#man if only i finished it in time for ff anniversary. that would have been cool lol. but i didnt even know it was anniversary! ;(

[cosmicqueen10]

I'm in such a Ben 10 fever mood as of late! And your art on crossover goodness is amazing and inspiring so thank you! 😍

i will never get over how FusionFall put those two together to be in a tutorial introduction, because they were both 'cool kids' of that era, but objectively Ben10 is a dorky overly dramatic cool kinda vibe while Numbuh 5 is just the coolest kid on the block but is chill about it vibe. they would indeed make a fun battle team-up

also why tf Ben just fistfights his way out of his battles when his watch aint working, use a bazooka or smth dude smh

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Waterfall Memories by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 1/9

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly

Chapters titles are based on the lyrics from “Stubborn Love” by The Lumineers

Chapter 1: It’s Better to Feel Pain

Emma Nolan stared at herself in the mirror, the white gown hugging the curves of her hips as the material jutted out behind her, flowing into a long swirl of creamy white silk behind her. It was the wedding dress of her dreams. Growing up she never imagined she would get the chance to wear it, much less afford it. Lately everyone kept telling her what a fairytale her life had become and how lucky she was to be marrying Walsh Oz, billionaire extraordinaire, New York’s most eligible bachelor.

Lucky was one way to put it, but lately, Emma just felt trapped.

She knew she was being irrational and completely selfish. Women had been lining the block simply to get a hello from Walsh, and all she did was walk into one of his hotels and he was captivated by her. At first it was a dream come true. Walsh took her to all the best restaurants, the most lavish parties, even flying her to London on his own private jet to celebrate their one-year anniversary.

Her parents were enamored with her fiancé, she didn’t fault them for it. Her parents always wanted the best for their daughter. Walsh could provide her things they could never afford or even imagine owning themselves.

“Oh my God, Emma, sweetie, you look beautiful.” Emma looked in the mirror to see her mother’s reflection, her cheeks beaming red, her eyes full of pride. She managed a smile and flattened the material around her hips.

“What is it? Is it the dress?” Her mother’s expression turned anxious, and Emma bit her lip.

“No, it’s fine. The dress is perfect.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m getting everything I ever dreamed of.” She sighed. “Just…” Her mom stepped up on the platform next to her. “How did you know dad was the one?”

“Well…I don’t think it was one thing. When I met your father, I was young and stubborn. It wasn’t exactly love at first sight. In fact, the first time I met him, I thought he was so cocky that I threw my drink in his face.”

Emma laughed. “You did not.”

“I did, he walked up to me, and introduced himself with the stupidest pick-up line.”

“No! Dad was one of those guys?”

“I believe he told me that I could stop looking because I had just met the man of my life.”

Emma groaned, hardly believing that her dad had tried that on her mom. She had heard stories of her mom, strong willed, stubborn, and determined that she didn’t need a man in her life.

“And yet you still married him.”

“Let’s just say he grew on me.”

“Dad isn’t one to give up.”

“No, he definitely isn’t. I think that’s where you get it from.” Emma frowned. “Emma what is it?”

“I don’t know, I just…” She paused, unsure how to say what was bothering her. “Do you think I’m giving up. Getting married to Walsh?”

“Giving up? What do you mean? You love Walsh. Don’t you?”

“Of course, I do. I mean…I’d be crazy not to.”

“Emma…” Her mother started to fuss with the train on her dress.

“Mom, it’s fine, honestly, I’m just nervous.” Emma deflected, adjusting the veil on her head. She was getting married in a week. She was just getting cold feet, that was all. Of course, she loved Walsh. She’d be an idiot not to. She exhaled and stared at her reflection.

“You really are a beautiful bride.”

“Thanks, mom.”

“It’s ok to be nervous. Every bride is nervous before their wedding.” Her mom squeezed her hand. “When do you and the girls leave?”

Emma checked her phone. “Crap, Ruby is stopping by in three hours. I need to get home and pack.”

“Well, I think we’re all done here. You guys are going to be careful right? Don’t drink too much and get plenty of sleep.”

“Mom, it’s a bachelorette weekend, not a church revival.” Emma rolled her eyes.

“I know but it’s so close to the wedding.”

“Don’t worry, Ruby has everything planned out.”

“Yes, that’s what worries me.” She laughed.

“Belle helped her plan the trip, and you know that Belle would never do half the stuff Ruby does, so I think everything will be fine.”

Her phone began ringing on the chair next to the dressing room door. Emma stepped off the ramp and saw Ruby’s face pop up on the screen. She slid across the screen to accept the call.

“Girl, are you ready for some debauchery and drunken parties!” Emma closed her eyes and turned toward her mom.

“She’s joking.” She faced the phone. “Seriously Ruby, don’t freak my mom out.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Nolan, I’m just kidding, we are going to be doing a lot of volunteer work at a local church in…”

“Nice try Ruby.” Her mother said with a roll of her eyes. “Just make sure she comes back safely and in one piece.”

“You’ve got it, mom.” Ruby nodded. “You can trust me.”

“I trust Belle. I only partially trust you.”

“Ouch.”

“I still remember senior year.” Her mother continued and Ruby groaned.

“You make one mistake, and no one ever forgets it.”

“I hardly believe that 2 days in county lock up counts as a mistake.” Her mother pulled the veil from Emma’s hair and sat it on the chair. “Just bring her home in one piece, Ruby.”

“Yes, mom. I promise.”

“I’m headed home now to pack.”

“You haven’t packed yet? You are always the last to do anything. Belle’s been packed for 3 weeks.”

“Yes that’s because Belle is a control freak and has no life.”

“Just be ready by the time we get there.”

“I can’t do that until you hang up.”

“Goodbye, bitch.” Ruby’s face disappeared from the screen and Emma felt her mother’s hands on her back, unlacing the straps on the dress.

“Please be safe this weekend.” Her mother said softly.

“I will mom, it’s just a short road trip to Maine.”

“You know I worry when you go to the store.”

Emma laughed. “I’ll message you along the way. Will that make you feel any better?”

“I love you.” Her mom said seriously. Emma stared at her mom, a smile spreading on her face.

“I love you too, Momma.”

Emma finished getting dressed back into her clothes and left her mother at the front of the store. She drove back to her apartment, trying to remember everything that she needed to pack when she got back home.

Her phone rang again, and she clicked the button on her steering wheel to accept the call from Walsh.

“Hey babe.” She announced as the call connected.

“Emma, darling, have you left yet?”

“Nope, just headed home from my last dress fitting.”

“Do you really need to go today?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“I don’t see the point to this trip.”

“I just want to spend time with my best friends before we leave for Italy.”

“I don’t like it. Three women traveling across country alone isn’t safe.”

“We’ll be fine.”

“Why can’t you fly? I can have my pilot fly you there.”

“Because we want to do a road trip. Like we did our senior year.”

“But you have a jet, Emma. Driving is so…beneath you now.”

“We talked about this; I want to do this.” Emma sighed. She was tired of having this argument with him. Back in their senior year, Ruby, Emma, and Belle had taken an epic road trip on senior skip day. They just wanted to relive these moments before things changed. Walsh would never understand, he hadn’t been a normal teenager. He had been raised with wealth since he was born. He didn’t enjoy the mundane things like driving his own car or taking a trip without a personal chef.

“Just promise me you’ll be careful.” He paused before continuing. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay at my hotel up there? The penthouse would be much better than whatever room Ruby could have booked.”

“Would you stop that, Ruby saved for two months to afford to take me on this trip.”

“And I told you she didn’t have to do that.”

“That’s not the point, she wanted to do this for me.”

He groaned, “Fine, just call me when you get there.”

“Of course, I will.”

“I love you darling.”

“Yeah you too.” She said quickly, hanging up the phone and pulling into the parking garage. She lived alone in an apartment near the water. Walsh hated that she wanted to live there until after the wedding. He hated the fact that she lived in this area of town, but she didn’t see anything wrong with it.

Sure, there was a homeless guy who lived in the alley, but Emma thought Leroy was just a grumpy old man who was down on his luck. Sometimes she would make herself an extra sandwich for lunch and drop it off to him on her way to work. He would grumble and moan about not needing a handout, but he always thanked her when she returned home from work.

Her favorite part of the apartment was the balcony. She had the best view of the harbor that no amount of money could pay for. She spent her evenings sitting at the tiny table, drinking her cocoa, and watching the boats sail in for the evening. It was her tiny piece of heaven. And the one thing she was going to miss most about moving to Walsh’s city penthouse. She looked over at the easel propped against the wall, her latest painting still sitting unfished on the wooden stand. She ran her fingers over the majestic swan lightly etched in the center of the pond waiting for a coat of paint to give it justice. She would finish it once she returned home from her trip.

She took one last look at the docks in front of her and hurried back into her apartment to pack her bags before Ruby would arrive. Emma met Ruby Lucas on the playground in 1st grade. Emma was hiding under the slide, away from the teasing taunts of her male classmates when Ruby walked over to the biggest of all the boys, knocked him backwards into the sand and growled at him. They had been best of friends ever since. When Belle French moved to their school in 4th grade, her nose stuck in a book, a shy smile creeping on her face when anyone approached her, Ruby and Emma made it their mission to draw her out of her quiet existence.

The three had become inseparable once they reached junior high school. They had a pact that they would always be there for each other, no one would ever mess with any of them. And no male would ever come between them.

They had been tested throughout the years. Their pact threatened to dissolve when Belle and Ruby found out they were both sleeping with the same man. Graham Humbert never knew what hit him when instead of turning on each other, they confronted him and both women left him alone that evening.

When Emma was first approached by Walsh, she wanted to turn and run away from all the attention he suddenly thrust upon her. She didn’t feel worthy of all the extravagant gifts and flowers, but Ruby and Belle convinced her that she deserved to be treated like the princess she always dreamed of being. Eventually she got used to the way that Walsh showed his affection through a new diamond bracelet or an overnight trip to the Eiffel Tower. Even if sometimes she felt like he only did it for the cameras or to earn a positive write up in the paper whenever a negative news story was threatening to brew about one of his corporations.

Emma pushed the negative thoughts from her brain. Walsh loved her. He asked her to marry him. Emma Nolan was about to be Mrs. Emma Oz.

She scrunched her nose and groaned. It was such a stupid name. Oz. When she first heard about Walsh, she thought the last name was a joke, there was no way his last name was out of a storybook with a tornado and munchkins. When she finally met him and he told her the story of how he legally changed his family name of Oswald to Oz so that his business empire would be named the Land of Oz and he would be its ruler, she almost choked on her tea and walked out of the restaurant.

Emma Oz. Utterly Ridiculous.

Her front door swung open, and Emma heard Ruby and Belle’s voices through the hall. “I’m back here.” She yelled.

“Tell me you aren’t still packing!” Ruby exclaimed as she entered the bedroom.

“Of course, I’m not. I’m just…” She bit her lip. “Checking to make sure I didn’t forget anything.” She lifted the few items she had in the bag.

“Looks like you forgot almost all of it, Emma.” Belle teased.

“You have been procrastinating for weeks on this trip. Are you sure you want to go?” Ruby whined.

“Of course, I want to go, I would go anywhere with you two losers.”

“Aww, we love you too.” Ruby cooed, wrapping her arms around her waist and tugging Belle into their mashed-up bodies.

“Ok this is getting us nowhere. Let me finish up, I promise it’s only going to take me five minutes.”

The girls retreated to the kitchen while Emma finished shoving items into her bag. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been looking forward to this trip. She really did want to spend time with Ruby and Belle. But after this weekend, the only thing left was the wedding and maybe deep down she wasn’t really ready for that to happen.

She took one last look around her room to ensure she hadn’t forgotten anything and tossed the bag over her shoulder.

“It’s about time.”

“Hey now, I’m the bride, shouldn’t I get more time than the rest of you?”

“You’re the one marrying a billionaire bachelor, if anyone needs more time to get ready for this trip it should be us. We haven’t found our sugar daddy yet.” Ruby shrugged.

“Walsh is not my sugar daddy.” Emma scolded in reply. “So, are we going to waste more time, or can we get going now?”

“Are you ready to enjoy your final week of freedom?” Belle teased.

“One last week to get down and dirty.” Ruby replied as she bumped her hip against hers.

“Are either of you going to tell me what you have planned?”

“Nope.” Ruby said simply, grabbing her bag from her hand and walking out the door.

“I call shotgun.” She yelled, chasing after her friends.

Sitting in the car, singing at the top of her lungs, was everything she could have ever asked for to distract her from her apparent case of cold feet.

If you wanna be my lover You gotta get with my friends Make it last forever Friendship never ends

Belle and Emma continued singing loudly as Ruby pulled off the road suddenly.

“Please tell me this is not where we are staying?” Emma looked around at the forest surrounding each side of the small road they were traveling on. Ruby insisted they take an off-road route on their way to Maine. She called it Emma’s Exploration Highway.

“Of course, we aren’t staying here, this is just one of the stops on the Emma Exploration Highway Express.”

Emma groaned. “Stop calling it that.”

“Come on, what happened to that crazy girl we grew up with? Just because you are about to be hitched doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun.”

“Hey, I’m still that same girl.” She complained.

Ruby held up a bag in her hands and smirked. “Well then, let’s get adventurous.”

Belle hopped out of the car, popping the trunk, and pulling out a cooler and a blanket. Emma looked around anxiously at the lush forest surrounding them. She had no idea what her friends had planned but whatever it was, she knew she would never forget this week with them. She was lucky to have friends that cared so deeply for her. People she had known almost her entire life that still knew her as Emma Nolan. Maybe if she still had them, she wouldn’t lose her identity when she became Mrs. Oz.

“So, what exactly are we doing?”

“Follow me.” Ruby winked mysteriously and she followed her down a dirt trail to the edge of a mountain. She could hear water rushing loudly over the side of the cliff. Leaning forward to peek over the edge she saw a waterfall cascading toward the ground far below her. The water sped off down a quick moving river and through the dense forest below them. She could see where it split off down two paths into a larger river, with a fast-moving current tossing water against the rocks. Beyond that it was a mystery, the lush forest cradled together to hide the beauty it kept beneath it. The view was breathtaking.

“Ok future Mrs. Oz, it’s time to give your man a reason to miss you.”

Emma looked down at the items being dumped out onto the blanket and blushed. “No way. I’m not putting any of that on.”

“Oh, come on, live a little, I bet that man will jizz in his three-piece suit when he sees pictures of you wearing this.”

“Ruby, it’s supposed to be sensual, not dirty.” Belle corrected her friend.

“Oh my God, stop. I don’t want you to ever think about my future husband like that.” Emma pinched the bridge of her nose. She held up on of the lacey items in front of her face. Emma never really wore lingerie. It made her feel exposed, and Emma didn’t like to feel like she was not in control.

Emma was always in control of herself around Walsh. She wasn’t a virgin, but sex with Walsh was almost clinical. They had a way they did things, and they didn’t deviate from them. They always had sex in bed, removing the comforter before their clothes came off. Walsh would kiss her, touch her breasts, and then complete the act on top of her. Afterwards, he would insist they both shower so as not to dirty the sheets. He preferred things to be clean and tidy at all times.

At first Emma found him to be odd, almost robotic, but after a while she became acclimated to the process. At times enjoying the fact that she didn’t have to go out of her comfort zone to please him. He never seemed to want more from her, and she didn’t offer.

But she always wondered if after they were married that maybe he might be interested in more. One time during their initial dating period, she tried to coax him into having a quickie in a janitor’s closet at one of his hotels. At first he seemed intrigued, almost turned on, until she kicked over a mop bucket, spilling the dirty water all over the floor and causing Walsh to immediately retreat from the room in disgust.

She was sure that getting photos of her in sexy lingerie out in the middle of nowhere might shock him. Maybe it would be good to show a different side to him, give him a taste of the woman he was marrying. Maybe he would take her the moment she returned home. The thrill of a man tearing her clothes from her body because he desired her so greatly made her body shiver. She bit her lip, reaching for one of the long, black see-through nighties and slipping her fingers against the fabric.

Live a little, Emma.

“Oh, that one is perfect for your light skin. Hell, I’d do you in that. Remember 9th grade?” Her eyebrow rose and Emma blushed.

She slapped Ruby on the shoulder. “Hey, we said we’d never talk about that again.”

“Try it on.” Belle giggled, taking a swig of one of the beers from the cooler.

Emma peeled off her shirt, unclasping her bra and tossing them to the side of the blanket, she dragged the black lace over her head and slipped her arms through the hole. Standing up she slid her yoga pants down her legs and spun around. “Well?”

“You can’t wear those ridiculous boy shorts under it. You have to take them off, Em.”

Emma groaned. “Fine. But take these pictures quickly. I don’t want anyone else to see me.” She tucked her thumbs into her underwear and quickly dragged them down her legs, tossing them with the rest of her clothes and walking toward the top of the waterfall.

“Now what?” She turned back to her friends who were following her with Belle’s Nikon camera.

“Sit on that rock.” Ruby pointed toward the water.

“That’s in the middle of the creek bed. I don’t want to get wet.”

“But it has the best view. The water isn’t even that deep.” Ruby kicked off her sandal and stood in the shallow water. “Besides, the pictures will look so amazing with the backdrop.” Emma looked at where the waterfall slid over the side of the mountain. The view was almost ethereal. Even if Walsh didn’t like the pictures, Emma had never felt more beautiful standing in the cool water, the black silk material swirling around her in the stream.

She tiptoed out into the center of the creek bed, sitting down onto the large rock in the center and pulling the wet material up over her legs. The rock was slippery and cold against her flesh. She couldn’t believe she was actually doing this.

“Ok now you have to pose.” Belle laughed, trying not to fall in the water as Ruby crept closer to her with the camera pointed toward her.

“I don’t have the first idea how to do this.” She groaned.

“Just act natural.” Ruby began snapping pictures, moving around the angles carefully as Emma tried to casually move around the rock. She had no idea how to be sexy.

“I said natural, you’re trying too hard.”

“Ugh, Rubes, maybe this is a bad idea, sexy just isn’t in my nature.”

“Are you kidding, look at you, naked, sitting on a rock in the middle of nowhere. You are sexy.” She continued to click the button, even as she spoke, and Emma finally sighed.

“Ok, be sexy.” She whispered to herself, leaning backwards on the rock to push her lips into a pout for the camera.

“There you go, make him want it.” Ruby cheered.

Emma lifted her arms over her head, looking backwards at the sun above her. Suddenly the rock beneath her shifted, rolling backwards as Emma slid toward the water. She grasped for the rock, or anything to stop her forward momentum as she raced toward the end of the cliff. She looked back toward her friends as she went under a swell of water at the apex of the cliff, gulping as she swallowed and choked. Her nails scratched the nearby rocks, trying to get a grip on the rough surface.

The water seemed to get deeper and faster, and she was getting turned around, her eyes sought the sky, then she was under water, gulping, screaming, watching as the edge of the cliff came closer and closer, until she hit something hard, and everything went black.

[forever-rogue]

Honey & Velvet - Part 10 (Finale)

A/N: Hello friends! The time has come for our little conclusion to this story. I’m so glad so many of you liked it so much, it really means the world! I hope you enjoy, and as always, feedback and comments are welcome! xx

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: fl*ff

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7  | PART 8 | PART 9

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

Black lace and velvet.

It was almost laughable as you studied your reflection in the long, golden gilded mirror. The lingerie was almost too much, even for you, who had acquired which a collection of various pretty little pieces by this point. But you'd picked these number specifically for this occasion, knowing that it would pique Max's interest. You were excited to show him later, having teased him all week about a special surprise.

Leaning against your desk, you drummed your fingers against the small stack of Polaroids. They were freshly developed and ready for delivery to the man himself. Grabbing the camera that you stored in your office for handy times such as these, you returned it to its spot in your wardrobe, locking it safely back up.

You slipped back into your chair and and pulled a manila envelope from the top drawer, reaching for the pictures. Before sliding them in and sealing it tightly, you grabbed your personal favorite and pressed a dark red lipstick print on it. You had always been a little on extra before, but now, having been with Maxwell this long, you were all about being extra. Why not? The two of matched each other and it worked well, you were happy, truly happy.

Putting everything inside, you securely sealed it, and scrawled his name in elegant, slanted writing on the front. This was going to be some surprise, one you hoped he wasn’t expecting, and one you hoped that he would enjoy. Grabbing your dress from the back of your chair, you quickly slipped it on, along with your heels before walking out of your office to find Adina.

She was reading over some reports, but stopped instantly when she saw you standing over her with a sheepish little grin on your face. She took her glasses off of her face and pinched the bridge of her nose before letting out a sigh. If you didn’t know her as well as you did, you would have easily believe she was annoyed, but luckily you knew better. Sticking the envelope directly in front of her, you leaned against her desk and as she met your eyes and rolled them dramatically.

“You know I love you, right?” you put on a sing-song voice as you leaned in front of her and offered her your sweetest, most honeyed smile, “and you’re the most amazing person ever-”

“Of course I know that,” she leaned back in her chair as she studied the envelope, “now, what do you need? As if I didn’t already know...”

“Can you please, pretty please with cherries on top, deliver this to Maxwell? ASAP?” you pouted your dark red lips at her, offering up your most innocent doe eyes, “it’s...very important.”

“I’m sure it is,” she almost snorted with laughter as she picked up the special delivery and gingerly felt it up, “is this what I think...”

“Probably so, but that is for me to know and you never to find out,” a light blush bloomed in your cheeks as you turned away for a moment, “I’ll owe you big time. I promise I will make it up to you!”

“You better,” she agreed, standing up and grabbing the envelope, tucking it securely into her purse, “making me run around and deliver this filth!”

“Thank you!” you quickly pulled her into a hug as she just laughed at you, “you’re the best. And it’s tasteful filth!

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she joked, a knowing little smile on her face because if you thought this was some surprise, you wouldn’t believe what was yet to come, “I’ll be back soon. Perhaps it would be a good idea for you to some actual work done?”

“If you insist,” you sighed dramatically before walking back to your office as she headed off to Max’s. You closed your door, letting out a small squeal of delight before sitting back down. You already glanced at the phone, before chastising your over-eagerness; it would have been impossible for him to already have the photos and be calling. But there was still an exciting, wicked rush tingling through your veins as you anticipated his call. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Mr. Lord?” a timid knock came at his door as he rolled his eyes, looking up from the papers he was skimming over, and telling them to come in. His assistant, still as timid as ever, came in with a nervous expression, clutching something tightly against her chest, “this just came for you...it was a special delivery.”

“What on earth could be considered a special enough delivery for you to interrupt me? I told you I was extremely pressed today - I have work that must be done before I leave for my vacation,” he realized how harsh he must have sounded as the young woman’s face dropped slightly and she hung her head. He cursed himself internally as dropped his pen and held his hand out, “I”m sorry, I’m just very busy. You did nothing wrong.”

She nodded in acknowledgement before giving him the envelope and heading back towards the door as he murmured a small thank you. He wasn’t perfect, far from it, just as most people were, but he was working on it, working to be more gentle and not as quick to anger. 

Grabbing his golden letter opener, he undid the seal, a grin crossing his features when he recognized your hand writing on the front. Reaching in, he pulled out the contents in a single, fluid motion, easily figuring out what it was. His breath hitched in his throat as he skimmed through the stack of photos. 

“Exquisite,” he whispered under his breath as he studied them in turn. He could quickly tell that this was a new piece that you were sporting. He bit the inside of his cheek as he tried not to completely lose it in the middle of work. But your little present was making it increasingly hard to focused and not focus on you, or barging into your office and having you every which way. He had aimed on finishing work early to come and get and surprise you with a trip. He’d personally planned out a two weekend holiday to Greece, ready to sweep you off your feet and surprise you. 

Noticing all the papers on his desk, he gave them a dismissal look before almost yanking his phone off the receiver and dialing your direct line.

You had been so focused on the reports you were pouring over that the loud ringing of the phone almost startled you out of your seat. Considering ignoring it for a moment, you gave it an annoyed glance, but when you realized that your wishes might have come true, you let out a long breath before picking it up. Trying to keep a normal, even tone, you politely answered with a soft, “hello?”

“Hello darling,” Max’s warm, rich voice immediately reached your ears and you relaxed at the sound. You wrapped the cord around your finger as you leaned back in your chair, and rested your feet on the desk. You could just picture him doing the exact same thing as you bit your lip, “I received your little...surprise. Is that little number new? It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

“Happy anniversary, my love,” you were practically grinning from ear to ear as you imagined him looking through the photos you had taken plenty of time to perfect, “I hoped you liked them. And yes, it is brand new...I saw it and thought it would be a nice treat. Wait until you see it in person, it’s all velvet and soft, but just I think you’ll like what’s underneath even better.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” you could hear him flipping through the photos on his end as he let out an amused sigh, “they’re wonderful, I should really put them up in my office to display. Imagine how jealous everyone would be.”

“Maxwell! You wouldn’t dare!”

“Don’t worry,” he was laughing, and you just imagine the smug little look on his face, as you tried to picture someone walking in and seeing the very scandalous photos of you, “these are just for me. I’ll keep them safe and sound.”

“For your use,” you felt bold as you tapped your fingers along on the edge of your desk, “for when we can’t be together for whatever and you need to...find some release.”

“You little minx,” he sighed contently as you grinned to yourself, “happy anniversary to you, my darling. How’s work treating you today?”

“Boring,” you admitted, “terrible. It’d be so much better if you were here, and not just because I’ve been thinking about you fucking me in my office all morning. And I want to know what this little surprise is that you have planned!”

“If I told you, that would ruin the whole point of it being a surprise,” he had a point, but you didn’t want to admit it just yet, “you will see soon enough...I’ll be there to pick you up at five, just like I promised.”

“But that doesn’t tell me anything, Max,” you hoped he could sense your pout though the phone. His little surprise could literally have been anything; with Max, you never knew what to expect. While driving you slowly mad, the number of possibilities of what it could be left you feeling as excited as a child, “can I at least get a hint?”

“Hmm,” he mused thoughtfully for a moment as you were metaphorically leaning on the edge of your seat, “I don’t think I can do that...terribly sorry.”

“You don’t sound sorry at all,” you sighed dramatically, “are you really going to make me wait until this evening?”

“I’m afraid so,” there was no way he was going to budge and you knew there was no point in pushing him. He was as stubborn as a mule when he wanted to be, “I’ve got to go and finish some work, darling. But I just had to stop and thank you....you look lovely as ever. I’ll see you this evening.”

“Fine,” you reluctantly agreed, “I’ll see you this evening, Maxwell. I’ll miss you until then.”

“It’s only a few hours,” he promised, “you won’t even notice. Just be prepared.”

“Goodbye Max,” you slowly hung up the receiver, trying to figure out what his surprise could possibly be. It was going to bug and nag you until you could figure it out or knew exactly what it was. 

Little did you know that almost everyone knew what Maxwell’s plan was. Even Adina was in on it, having been roped in by Maxwell to pack your bags and have everything ready for you to leave on vacation that evening. She’d gone into your apartment when you’d been staying at Maxwell’s, utilizing her spare key and putting it to good use. You’d been so busy and wrapped up with everything that you hadn’t even noticed that anything out of place or missing from your closet. Your packed back was already with his, waiting to be used for your trip.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You took a look around your office and let out a triumphant little sound. Needless to say, you'd been busy all afternoon, keeping your hands and mind occupied for the last several hours. It just wasn't anything extremely productive...not really anyway. You hadn't finished your entire workload for the week, making the executive decision to pass some of it along to your subordinates; luckily it wasn't anything terribly complicated or time consuming, just busy work that you couldn't focus on.

Instead, you'd spent the afternoon cleaning and reorganizing your office. Everything was clean and pristine, put away and perfectly organized. You'd held out hope that Max might still somehow make an appearance to surprise you, but he never came. You tried not to let it bug you, but there was still the little bit of disappointment that lingered.

Luckily, the close of business had come around and now all you had to do was wait for Maxwell. Perching on the corner of your desk, you swung your legs back and forth as you stared at the slowly sinking sun.

A knock sounded at your door before it was slowly opened and Maxwell poked his head inside. You slipped off of the desk and almost ran over to him, pulling inside and throwing your arms around him, "Max!"

It took a moment for him to respond, so stunned he was almost bowled over. But he returned your hug, wrapping his arms tightly around you as he crashed his lips onto yours. He kissed with such urgency and passion that you refused to pull apart from him until you were breathless.

"Hi," he gave you his best megawatt smile as he touched your cheek, which you eagerly leaned into. You were like a keening cat and he was your sun, "now I can wish you a happy anniversary in person."

"You're here," you kissed the side of his hand, "that's what matters. I've missed you."

"You saw me last night, honey..."

"I know," you confessed, tugged on his lapels and pulling him along with you closer to your desk. You'd kept it cleared off for a specific reason after all, "but I still missed you."

"I'm afraid I'm going to disappoint you," he said as you tugged on his tie to bring him back to your lips. You stopped and shook your head at him before attempting to kiss him, but he artfully dodged your advances.

"What?" you huffed at him as sighed lightly, attempting to pull further back from you, "you suddenly don't want to kiss me? You definitely weren't saying that last night or a few moments ago...”

"I do want to kiss you," he was insistent as he put his hands on the sides of your face, cradling it delicately as a thumb brushing over your cheekbone, "trust me-"

"Well, you're not certainly providing evidence to support that," you gave him your best puppy dog eyes and he did his best to try resist. You knew it was one of his weaknesses, hell every part of you was his weakness.

"Sweetheart-"

"I thought you loved me, Maxwell," you were being melodramatic and over the top, but hell, you didn't care at this point. He'd been on your mind all day and there was nothing more you wanted then him. Throughout the day you'd grown needier and needier, all sorts of wild thoughts running through your mind as you did your best not to break down and touch yourself. No, that you were saving just for Maxwell. And knowing he wasn't in the mood, or something, for whatever reason was putting a little damper on your parade, and that was putting it lightly.

Max's dark eyes were locked on you with such intensity that you almost grew nervous as you tried to decipher his thoughts. Pushing all of his buttons was going to lead to something after all; you'd done it before, plenty of times in the past, just get a rouse out of him. It worked basically every time, and it gave you both what you wanted in the end.

When he was silent for a few long moments, you swallowed the lump in your throat, almost ready to apologize for being a brat. Almost.

But before you could even think about saying anything, Maxwell crashed his lips onto yours in a searing, passionate kiss that instantly knocked the breath from your lungs as your hands found purchase on his shoulders and his much larger ones went to your waist. He didn’t even give you a moment to react, trying to assert his dominance in a mess of tongue and teeth as he kissed as hard as he could. This was exactly what you had been waiting for all day. The way his lips felt against yours, how sweet he always tasted, and how perfect his body felt against yours, it all created a perfect harmony that left your body buzzing.

You reached for one of his hands and slowly started to push it under the hem of your dress, silently encouraging him to touch you.

Gods, if only you knew how much he desired to touch you. It was hard to keep his mind focused on anything all day, especially once he'd received your pictures. He had been almost desperate to touch himself, to let him self come undone to the wildest fantasies he had of you. But he had refrained, something the Maxwell of yesteryear would never have done. Instead he focused only on work, getting it done and out of the way so he could come to you. Then he'd have nothing but all the time in the world to spend with you, touch you - everything. It had been difficult, immensely so, an almost insurmountable task, but he managed to do so. Maxwell Lord was desperately in love with you, and he knew nothing would compare to waiting until you could finally be alone and be together.

Just...not right now.

Because almost as soon as it had started, it stopped, and Maxwell pulled back from you, his breathing ragged and eyes wild. You narrowed your eyes before lightly shoving at his chest, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

"Maxwell!" you almost groaned with how frustrated you were, "you cannot just come into my office, with this hot and cold act, kiss me like that and then just stop!"

"Honey..."

"No! Don't honey me, mister! It's our anniversary, shouldn't we be spending it together?" you sighed as you sat back down on your desk, "are you breaking up with me? I gave you scandalous photos of myself...and tasteful nudes, you fool!"

"Honey-"

"You didn't even get me flowers or anything," okay, now you were just acting like a spoiled child and you knew it, "n-not that I need them or should expect them, I don't mean it like that, but it's our one year anniversary, and I thought it would be special..."

"I didn't get you flowers on purpose-"

"Oh?! So you purposefully didn't get me flowers?" might as well through yourself a pity party now and get it over with.

"Honey, will you just listen to me for a minute?" his tone was sharp and firm, a quality he almost never adopted with you, unless the time called for it. Crossing your arms over your chest, you looked at him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for him to continue on. He stood in front of you and grabbed your hands, bringing one to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. His voice suddenly shifted to be soft and docile, "the reason I didn't get you flowers is because you wouldn't have been able to enjoy them. You would have had them one afternoon and then they would have stayed here and died."

"What...what do you mean?" you definitely weren't following his line of reasoning.

"I have a surprise for you, all planned out, and we need to leave," he glanced at his watch and noted the time, "very soon so we aren't late."

"A surprise? Late? I-I don't follow..."

"We're going to Greece for the next couple of weeks," he finally revealed as your jaw dropped open in surprise. You definitely hadn't expected this, not by any means, "I have it all planned out a surprise for our anniversary. You said you've always wanted to go, so I figured now is the perfect time."

"We're...going to Greece?" your eyes were wide with excitement as he nodded. Internally, you were squealing with delight, "but what about-"

"Everything's been arranged, darling," he promised as you stood up to throw your arms around him, "Adina helped and has your bags packed already. Everything's in the car and all we have to do is go to the airport and catch our flight. And we need to do that soon if we don't want to miss it."

"Maxwell," you wrapped your arms around him and held on as tightly as possibly. You had never expected anything like this, or even anyone to go out of their way to do something like this for you, "I don't even know what to say besides thank you."

"There's nothing to thank me for," he promised, giving the side of your head a delicate kiss, "I'm just happy that you're excited."

"I'm terribly excited," you admitted, "I can't even begin to tell you! I'm just...I'm sorry I acted like a..."

"A brat?" he teased as you gave him a sheepish nod, "I...understand your frustrations. Trust me, if we had the time right now, I would have taken you already. You look stunning, and knowing what's underneath, and that little stunt you pulled with the pictures today? It's proving to be quite challenging."

"So you did like them?" a blush bloomed in your cheeks as he nodded.

"I loved them," he stated, "but for now, we must go. Paradise awaits."

"Maxwell," he looked at you like he could easily read your mind and see right into your soul, understating exactly what you were saying without having to say anything.

"How would you like to join the mile high club?" he asked as you grabbed your bum and have it a firm squeeze. You made a small sound of surprise as he took your hand and started to lead out of the office. He had known exactly what you were thinking.

"I would love that," you grinned at him, already thinking of all the possibilities, "and you know what else? I love you, Maxwell."

"I love you too, sweetheart," he agreed, "I love you too."

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[unfolded73]

Husbands: Two Years In (3/5) - schitt’s creek ff

This fic is complete, posting every other weekday. While I'm including it as part of the "Labels" series, the preceding fics are not required reading. Previous fics in this series: Boyfriends; “I Love You”, Partners, Fiancés

Warning: This fic deals with depression as one of its major topics.

Rated Explicit, this chapter 5153 words. (ao3)

Thanks to @high-seas-swan for cheerleading and B13_MaybeThisTime for many valuable comments (and also cheerleading).

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 3: Summer

Wherever Patrick Brewer might have expected his the trajectory of his life to lead, even after he’d broken it off with Rachel and left his hometown, even after he realized he was gay and fell in love with a man, he could never have imagined a future that included walking down a sunny sidewalk in SoHo on an August afternoon with a woman like Moira Rose on his arm.

This trip to New York City had been in the works for months, planned for the break between the filming of Crows IV and the date when Moira would need to return to set for season three of the Sunrise Bay reboot. The entire Rose family had converged to visit Alexis on this trip, and this afternoon the plan was shopping, which Patrick had gone along with good-naturedly. He didn’t care about the shopping, but it was still fun to be in a city like this, to people-watch as Moira, Alexis, and David orbited around him. Johnny Rose, meanwhile, was meeting with an old friend and hadn’t joined them for this particular outing.

Alexis and David were several feet behind him and Moira, standing outside the Burberry store and arguing about the merits of a coat. Patrick assumed that even had he lingered to listen, what they were saying would have gone in one ear and out the other. So since Moira had taken his arm a few minutes before, he continued their slow promenade, figuring her kids would catch up when they got bored with their debate and noticed that they’d been left behind. Moira moved gracefully in platform heels and a vintage silver dress that probably cost more than Patrick’s entire wardrobe, a hat and large sunglasses obscuring most of her face as she attempted to avoid being recognized.

At the very moment that Patrick was thinking this, a middle-aged woman stopped in front of them, her hands flying to her mouth. “Moira Rose? Oh my god, I’m a huge fan!”

So the attempt to hide her identity only went so far, Patrick realized, watching Moira’s reaction. She pulled off her sunglasses and smiled. “I’m out with my family at the moment, but I would be delighted to pose for a quick photograph.”

The fan gave Patrick a once-over, seeming to consider and immediately reject the idea that he might be anyone important. Moira let go of Patrick and leaned in, almost but not quite touching the woman, and smiled wide for the two seconds that it took for the selfie to be taken.

“They didn’t really kill you off at the end of the last episode, did they? I mean, no one saw your body,” the woman said.

“Now now, surely you don’t think you can dragoon me into revealing spoilers for Sunrise Bay out here on the street like a common newsboy.” Patrick stifled a laugh at the idea of a newsboy out on the sidewalk, selling papers full of TV show spoilers. “But I do appreciate your apprehensiveness about poor Vivian. It would be an inauspicious ending for her if after all this time, her life was snuffed out at the bottom of that cistern, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Do keep watching!” Moira said with a flourish of her sunglasses to indicate that the woman was dismissed.

“My mom texted me with that same question about your character,” Patrick admitted, holding his elbow out again for her.

“I was trending the night that episode aired,” Moira said, tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow as they began walking again.

“You’re very kind to your fans,” he said.

“I remember what it was like to feel like I didn’t have many fans left,” she said in a lower register, her accent less ostentatious, the way it got when she was admitting something real, something true. “I don’t take this revival of my career for granted. Not for a second.”

His heart squeezed in his chest for her, for everything she’d gone through and everything she’d managed to claw her way back to achieve.

“Ooh, that’s a lovely handbag,” she said, leading him over to the window of another store.

Patrick thought it was hideous, but what did he know? “Do you want to go in?” he asked, looking down the street to see David and Alexis had finally started to wander in their direction, albeit slowly.

Moira shook her head, resuming their walk. “After those years of deprivation, I find I’m still not used to buying things on impulse. Isn’t that curious?”

“I mean, it’s no surprise those years left a mark. And being frugal is… wise.”

She smiled at him, then glanced back in Alexis and David’s direction. “Do you know, I find I’ve almost forgotten what David was like before he was with you, Patrick. He’s so… secure. It used to surprise me, seeing him like that, but now it’s who he is.”

He winced at the idea of taking credit for David’s growth. At the same time, he knew that David still had deep wells of anxiety lurking under the surface. Marriage hadn’t turned either of them into different people, much as they might sometimes look idyllic as a couple from the outside.

Before he could respond, Moira’s phone chirped from inside her large bag. “I bet that’s John,” she said as she rooted around for the device.

“There you are,” Patrick said to David as he and Alexis joined them.

“Yeah, no thanks to you, just leaving us behind,” David complained while Moira stepped away and spoke into her phone.

Patrick laughed. “We were a half a block ahead of you, David.”

David reached out and put his hands on Patrick’s shoulders. “Yes, but you’re new to the city,” he said with a crooked smile. “You could get lost. Or abducted.”

“I’m sure your mother would have protected me if it came to that.”

Moira finished her call. “I’m going to meet John back at the Plaza and have a little repose before dinner. Shall we reconvene later?”

“We could go back to the hotel too,” Patrick said to David. The Roses were paying for David and Patrick to stay at the same Manhattan hotel, a generous gift that meant they didn’t have to cram themselves into Alexis’ tiny apartment or rent a room in Queens, which David had recoiled at when Patrick suggested it. Pointing out that David had absolutely no logical reason to be picky about hotel rooms, all of which were a step above the place he’d lived for a few years, didn’t sway him.

“I’m still trying to get ideas for your anniversary present,” David said.

“My goodness, have you been married a year already?” Moira asked. “How time does fly.”

David brought his hands up to his cheeks and shook his head in disbelief. “Oh my god, we’ve been married two years, Mother. At least, in a few weeks we will have.”

Alexis reached over and booped Patrick’s nose. “And Patrick hasn’t even mentioned divorce once yet, David, which is impressive.”

“Mm, eat glass,” David said. Patrick grinned — he’d missed their ridiculous banter.

“There’s a gelato place across the street,” Patrick suggested, pointing. He wouldn’t have minded going back to the hotel to rest, but stopping for ice cream would be a good compromise.

David’s eyes lit up. “My husband knows me so well,” he said.

~*~

Patrick let himself be pushed down into the soft mattress, David’s naked body covering his, his mouth working, wet and insistent, against his jaw. “God, good hotels make me so hot,” David whispered.

Chuckling, Patrick ran a palm over the stubble on David’s cheek and back into his hair. “Then it’s a good thing that your parents’ room is on another floor,” he said. He was still a little tipsy from the wine they’d had during dinner at a very nice restaurant, and the process of getting undressed with David once they got back to their room had been a frantic blur.

“A very good thing.” David reached down and cupped Patrick’s hardening cock. “What are you in the mood for?”

Patrick thrust against the inadequate friction David was giving him. “Can I fuck you?”

David squinted an eye closed. “Don’t think I can do that right now, not with the way I’ve been eating today.”

That was fair; Patrick didn’t think he’d be able to bottom at the moment either, now that he thought about it. “Or you could suck my cock?”

“Mm, yes, I can do that,” David said, already sliding down the bed and positioning himself between Patrick’s legs like he didn’t want to lose this momentum, this sloppy, slightly drunken desperation.

The first flutter of David’s tongue against him had Patrick throwing his head back and groaning. But then it quickly became clear that David was in the mood to tease, to savor him, licking him from base to tip with swipes of his tongue like his dick was some kind of obscene ice cream treat, and then only taking him inside his mouth with the gentlest of pressure, not giving him enough suction to get anywhere close to coming. Patrick’s fist clenching in David’s hair only made David chuckle in the back of his throat, like Patrick’s impatience was exactly the goal.

David pulled off, replacing his mouth with his slowly jacking fist. “If you’d let me pack the way I wanted to, I’d have you tied up by now so that I could really take my time with you.”

“I wasn’t going to haul an entire suitcase full of sex toys through customs for a one week vacation,” Patrick said, his hips rising in time with David’s hand. “I wasn’t that interested in giving U.S. airport security a thrill.”

“Your loss,” David said, turning and sucking a bruise into the skin of Patrick’s inner thigh.

When his thighs were mottled with hickeys and David was still only giving him incomplete friction with his hand, Patrick surged up from the bed, flipping their positions. “Your turn to be tortured for a little while,” Patrick said, biting David’s lower lip hard enough to make him grunt.

He worked his way over David’s chest, nosing through his chest hair, pausing to suck hard on one of his nipples, scraping his teeth against the skin stretched over the side of his ribs, then further down to position himself between David’s thighs. He tried to hold out, tried to stretch out the time before he took David’s cock in his mouth, but he felt too hungry for it to wait long. The saltiness, the weight of it on his tongue, made Patrick moan. He still could remember the first time he did this, that night at Stevie’s, and how that final tiny doubt that maybe he wasn’t actually gay, maybe it was just some spell that David Rose had woven, evaporated in the face of how much he loved sucking cock. How he powered through that first blowjob fueled by determination and desire, a puzzle piece of his sexuality slotting into place.

Now he knew David’s responses so intimately, he could play him like an instrument. If Patrick wanted David to come in under two minutes, he could usually manage it. Or he could edge him over and over until David was clutching fistfuls of the sheets and begging, voice hoarse with desperation. Tonight he wanted to tease him, to pay him back for the bruises he could feel now on the inside of his own thighs, but his arousal was pushing him to suck harder, to take David deeper, the tip of his cock brushing along Patrick’s soft palate as he drew him in over and over, matching his rhythm to the shallow thrusts of David’s hips.

“Fuck, I love your mouth,” David gasped. “God, Patrick…” and then he was coming, Patrick letting it pool on the back of his tongue as he soothed David down, slowing and finally pulling off when David relaxed. Patrick swallowed as he wiped saliva from his chin.

“Come up here,” David whispered, gesturing vaguely with one hand. “Let me finish you off. Fuck my mouth.”

Even in the midst of his intense arousal, Patrick was tempted to joke that David was just offering that so that he didn’t have to move, but he elected to hold that comment in as he shuffled up the bed. David put an extra pillow under his head and then grabbed hold of Patrick’s hips, opening his mouth and letting Patrick push his cock inside.

Usually Patrick could grab hold of the strong metal bars of their bed when he did this, but in this hotel he only had the faux headboard that was affixed to the wall. He braced one arm against the wall and reached down to thread his fingers through David’s hair with the other, holding him gently in place as he fucked into his mouth.

“God, that’s hot, David. I love the way you take me,” he gritted out, trying to resist the urge to lose too much control, to thrust too deeply even though he knew David could tap out if he needed. Still, it was an overwhelming visual, the sight of his erection sliding into David’s mouth, and it didn’t take long for Patrick to tip over the edge, crying out as he came, fist clenching in his husband’s hair.

He collapsed at David’s side as David exhaled a long breath, ending on a giggle. “How is the sex between us even better now than it was three years ago?”

Patrick wasn’t sure if the question was rhetorical, but he thought about the answer anyway. While he thought about a serious answer, he gave a non-serious one. “It’s the hotel turning you on so much.”

David smiled. “It’s not, though,” he said softly, signaling his desire to have a sincere conversation.

Patrick rolled toward David and settled a hand on his chest, feeling for the thump of his heart. “Because we know each others’ bodies so well,” he said.

“Mmm. By that logic, when we’re in our eighties, our orgasms will be visible from space.”

“Visible?” Patrick asked, laughing.

“You know what I mean.”

Leaving that aside, Patrick said, “Well, by then I imagine that our aging bodies will have something to say about the sex being all that amazing.”

“Impossible. We’re immortal.”

Patrick lifted his head and pressed a kiss to David’s cheek, and then to his lips. “We’re not.” He knew it wasn’t what David wanted to hear, that he was killing the post-coital mood by saying it, but for some reason he couldn’t stop himself. “If we stay together for our entire lives then there will be messy physical stuff. There’ll be… one or both of our dicks will stop working—“

“Okay, that’s not going to happen.”

“It might happen at some point.”

“You can just feel free to smother me with a pillow if that happens to me,” David said.

“But David, if I murder you, I can’t be the beneficiary of your life insurance,” Patrick replied with a smirk.

“Mmkay.”

“I’ll love you even then, you know,” Patrick said. “When we’re old and wrinkled and have unreliable dicks.”

“That’s very sweet, but can we get back to talking about how great the sex is now?” David whined.

Patrick kissed him again. “The sex is excellent.”

David gave him a warm smile, one of those smiles that filled up his whole face and radiated out of his eyes. “It’s nice seeing you so happy.”

Something about the way David said it gave Patrick pause. He pulled back, putting a little bit of space between them. “You say that like it’s a rare thing.”

He could see a spark of worry in David’s eyes. “No, not rare. You’ve been… exhausted a lot this year, and… and I think this vacation came at a good time, that’s all. I’m glad you’re enjoying the city.”

“I am enjoying it,” Patrick said, but his brain was focusing on the first part, the part about how he’d been exhausted. How David had noticed. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want his mental state to be a burden to his husband, or to make him feel like he was in any way lacking. “I’ve been fine.”

“Okay.” David leaned up and kissed him gently. “Let’s get some sleep.”

Patrick shifted over onto his own pillow, watching as David rolled to face the opposite wall, scrunching his pillow under his head. Sometimes Patrick took it as an invitation to be the big spoon, but tonight he turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.

He just wasn’t getting as much enjoyment out of things these days, that was all. And that was to be expected, wasn’t it? They’d been running the store for close to four years, so of course the day-to-day tasks had gotten dull. At the same time, the stress of deciding whether it was the right time to open a second location was wearing on him, because no matter how much planning and calculating he did, ultimately it was a gamble. And Patrick wasn’t a gambler.

Meanwhile, the novelty of being a homeowner was wearing off a bit, and he’d found himself focusing on the downsides of it lately more than the upsides. Rather than spending his early mornings in their warm kitchen, looking out onto the back yard and feeling content, he was struggling to wake up when his alarm went off, brushing his teeth and noticing the water-stained vanity for the hundredth time, feeling inadequate because he hadn’t figured out how to fit replacing it into their budget when the Rose Apothecary expansion was looming.

But the truth was, even with all of that, sometimes he did feel happy. He’d been happy while he was planning for this trip to New York with the Roses, looking forward to seeing David with his family again and excited to see what the city was actually like with his own eyes. At times like that, it felt like depression was just in his imagination. It felt like maybe he hadn’t been depressed at all, or that he had been in the winter, but that he was over it now. But at the same time he could feel it lurking in the back of his mind, waiting for a weak moment. Telling him he was a bad son, or a bad husband, or a bad business partner. Telling him that he didn’t deserve David’s love, not when he couldn’t bring himself to get started on fixing up the bathroom.

Patrick lay awake for a long time, listening to David’s sleep-breathing, before finally falling into uneasy slumber himself for a few scant hours before waking with the early morning sun.

While David continued to sleep, Patrick pulled on some underwear and a t-shirt and shifted the curtains aside enough to look out. The view of Central Park from their room was breathtaking, and he paused to wonder how much the Roses had paid for rooms with that view. Unplugging his phone from the nightstand, he went back to the window and took a picture through the glass.

He looked from the window over to David, tousled black hair against acres of white bedding, bare shoulders on display. Patrick took a picture of that too.

After brushing his teeth and taking a shower, Patrick got back into bed to read until a more reasonable hour to wake David up. The rest of the morning passed with a leisurely breakfast and an Uber ride downtown to the Whitney Museum, which David had been talking about visiting for months. It had the added benefit of being close to Alexis’ apartment in Chelsea; they were planning to meet her later in the afternoon.

Patrick soon learned that he and David had different approaches to art museums. Patrick liked to read the placards about each painting, circling each room methodically as he went from painting to painting. David liked to take it all in for a while from the middle of the room before deciding which paintings to approach for a closer inspection, stepping forward and back as he looked for the best viewing distance. His failure to study the text about each painting didn’t mean he didn’t know things about them, Patrick quickly discovered.

“I love this one,” Patrick said as David approached from behind him.

“Mm, I knew you’d be a Hopper fan. What do you like about it?”

Patrick studied the sewing woman’s shoulders, the way her dress bunched, the prominent veins in her hand. “I don’t know, I just like it.”

David was waiting for him to say more, Patrick could tell.

“She looks delicate but also, look at her back and her arm. She’s strong.” Patrick glanced at his husband. “She reminds me of Alexis.”

David pinched his lips together, which could mean he disagreed, or it could mean he agreed but didn’t like that he agreed.

Patrick squinted at the painting again. “So what’s the meaning behind it?”

David waved his hand at that dismissively. “It’s something to do with the post-World War I isolation of the early 1920s, I seem to recall. But it means whatever you want it to mean.”

In the next room, Patrick gravitated toward a couple of strikingly colorful oil paintings of factories, criss-crossed with lines that carved out contrasting geometric shapes on the canvas. As he was reading the name of the artist, David joined him.

“Charles Demuth was gay, you know,” David said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm hmm. He started out doing watercolors of flowers and men in Turkish baths in the nineteen-teens and twenties. Then he switched to painting…” He gestured unhappily at the works Patrick had been admiring. “This.”

“You don’t like these,” Patrick said, although the answer was obvious.

“There’s a theory that he was attempting to shrug off the stigma of being an effeminate man with these Lancaster oil paintings. Also, the art world didn’t take his watercolors that seriously,” David said, twisting up his face like he smelled something bad, and… right. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why David wouldn’t like these paintings.

Patrick nodded, and stepped over to put his arm around David. “Do they have any of the Turkish bath paintings here?”

“Sadly, no,” David said with a smirk, still gazing at the oil paintings. “There’s also a theory that all those smoke stacks are just dicks.”

Patrick barked out a laugh.

Leaving the museum, they went to a nearby café to wait for Alexis. They sat at one of the outdoor tables, a wrought-iron railing topped with pots of white and purple flowers separated them from the foot traffic on the sidewalk. While they waited and David munched on a pastry, Patrick texted the picture he’d taken of Central Park from the hotel room to his parents, telling them that they were enjoying the trip. Then he texted a couple of the photos he’d taken of paintings in the Whitney to his cousin Justin. Justin usually didn’t respond to Patrick’s texts, but occasionally he did.

Justin 🌈: You should have gone to nyc in june for pride

Patrick realized that was a topic he’d never talked to David about. “Were you ever here for the Pride parade?” he asked.

David looked up from his book, eyebrows high on his forehead. “Sure, lots of times. I mean, I wasn’t down in the streets with the heaving mass of humanity, but I could usually get an invite to a party along the parade route, back in those days.”

Grinning, Patrick repeated, “Heaving mass of humanity?”

David scoffed. “You know how I feel about crowds.”

Patrick turned back to his phone. David doesn’t like crowds, he typed. I did learn today about a gay artist who painted a bunch of smoke stacks either to seem less gay or possibly to be super gay. Jury’s out on which.

Lol, Justin responded.

Patrick smiled at the fact that he’d achieved a successful interaction with his cousin.

“David Rose?” a voice called out, and Patrick looked up to see who was speaking. He got a quick impression of an attractive woman with a stylish haircut and clothes before he looked toward David to gauge his reaction to the approaching woman. As he watched, David put on a simpering smile, the one he used with difficult customers, and held out his hand.

“Eloise,” he said flatly. “What a surprise.”

“David, how dare you not tell me that you were going to be in town?” she said, ignoring the offered handshake and sitting down at their table without invitation. “Oh my god, how are you.” She phrased it as a statement, and Patrick doubted if she cared how David was.

“I’m very good — in town for a few days to visit Alexis.” Patrick felt David’s hand settle on his shoulder, scratching absently. “This is my husband, Patrick. Patrick, this is Eloise; she’s an old friend.”

Eloise’s eyes widened as she took Patrick in. “Hi, nice you meet you,” Patrick said.

“I feel like maybe I heard that you got married? And I didn’t believe it. David Rose wouldn’t get married, I said. No way.”

David’s eyes narrowed. “Well, I did. Two years ago.”

“But you’re not living in the city? Surely you’re not still in… where was it? Somewhere in Canada?”

Here it was, the thing that still nagged at Patrick every time David expressed displeasure with Schitt’s Creek. Every time he acted disgruntled about the lack of restaurant options, or grimaced at Jocelyn’s opinions at a social gathering. Because the reason they were ‘somewhere in Canada’ was that was what Patrick had wanted.

“Our store is in Canada, yes, so that’s where we are,” David said, and to his credit he didn’t look the least bit ashamed of that fact. His fingers continued to move over Patrick’s shoulder. “Patrick and I own a lovely cottage on quite a large plot of land out there for a fraction of the cost of a one bedroom apartment here. We love it.”

“But the culture, David. How do you live without the culture?” Eloise asked.

David smirked. “How much culture did we really take in back in the old days, Eloise? The VIP section at the hottest club of the season isn’t exactly the Guggenheim. Besides, we get back here to visit Alexis regularly.” Regularly meaning once in two years, Patrick thought, although they did intend to visit more often in the future, now that there was more money coming in from their online sales.

Eloise immediately started talking about herself, about parties she’d been to or people she’d seen. Patrick tuned her out — she hadn’t shown any interest in him and the feeling was mutual. He watched people passing by on the street, walking dogs or going quickly to jobs or moving slowly and hesitantly like tourists. Eloise quickly seemed to run out of steam, maybe because David wasn’t hanging as desperately on her every word as she wanted, and she stood from the table.

“I’ve gotta run, David, but how much longer are you in New York? We really have to catch up.”

“Absolutely,” David said, standing with her. “I’ll text you.”

They kissed in the vicinity of each other’s cheeks and Eloise loped away, her attention mostly on her phone.

David dropped back into his seat with a puff of air.

“Nice lady,” Patrick muttered.

“She’s a monster,” David said. “I’m not texting her.”

“Uh huh, I cracked that code.”

David laughed softly. “Wow, she was boring.”

“Probably not as boring as your husband, to be fair.”

That made David’s eyes flash. “You aren’t boring.”

Patrick chuckled, fiddling with a spoon on the table. “Yeah, I’m super interesting. Is it my knowledge of tax law or my books about baseball that do it for you?”

David looked a little bit hurt at that. “Everything about you does it for me,” he said seriously.

Alexis arrived at that point, interrupting them, and Patrick rose from his seat to accept her cheek kisses. David excused himself to the restroom.

Watching him go, Alexis said, “Is he okay?”

“Oh, some old acquaintance of his was just here.” He frowned; that wasn’t what had bothered David. “Actually, I think it’s me that’s been making him anxious.”

“Well, don’t do that, Patrick,” she said with a frustrated groan and a birdlike bob of her head. “Surely you know how to manage David’s anxiety by now.”

“No, I do, but…” What should he say? That he couldn’t exactly be the guardian of David’s emotions when he was struggling with his own? That he swore once, standing with David for the first time in front of their house, to make David happy, and that now he was doubting his ability to do so?

“Anyway, did you guys have fun today?” Alexis asked, unaware of his inner turmoil.

“Yeah,” he said, because he had. “David could have been an art museum tour guide in another life.”

Alexis nodded. “Because he talks too much and thinks too highly of his opinions?”

“I was going to say because he knows a lot about art, but sure, that too.”

“Well, I hope you didn’t wear yourselves out, because Mom and Dad have plans tonight and so we are going to go out and party like the young and vital people that we are.”

Patrick felt exhausted at the prospect of such an outing. “I mean, some of us are getting close to forty; I don’t know if young—”

Alexis flapped her hands. “Ugh, just David. You and I are young still.”

Laughing, Patrick consciously relaxed his shoulders. He could go with Alexis’s flow, surely. He was on vacation, after all.

Which was how he found himself a few hours later, a tiny bit drunk and grinding against David on the dance floor of a gay bar that Alexis had dragged them to. It was ridiculous and they were maybe too old for this and yet he loved it, loved getting to have this experience that he’d been robbed of by not figuring himself out sooner. Loved being sweaty and a little dizzy and watching a man with criminally nice arms dancing just over David’s left shoulder while David grinned at him.

“I love you,” Patrick shouted over the loud beat, euphoria swelling out from the bubble around him and David to encompass the other people on the dance floor and the DJ and Patrick’s sister-in-law, who appeared to be flirting with the woman tending bar.

David squeezed his ass in answer. “I’m glad you’re having fun,” he said against Patrick’s ear.

“I am,” Patrick said honestly. At a time like this, unhappiness seemed impossible.

(Chapter 4)

[lockdownuk]

Lockdown Diary Part 2

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.

Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online.

Day 31: I went to Tesco’s at Hampton at @8pm. It was weird. But I made it less weird by buying (amongst all the legit stuff I needed and some stuff for Karen’s mum) more booze. I have, atm about 30 assorted cans and 60 assorted bottles. I’m gonna stop buying booze now until I’m down to the last dozen. I don’t want owt to happen and I leave many behind!

Day 32: More than a calender month! I was rung up by a recruitment agent today about a contract with DHL as a remote support engineer to their aviation section. €400 a day! I’ve applied. Few beers tonight, watching a new Netflix release (Extraction) and catching up with Fog, Ham, Andy and Rog later at 10:30pm - yikes, might be pissed.

Day 33: Typing this on day 34. Dossed around during the day, few beers and another video call with fog, Ham and Rig plus I invited John Monk along. He was his usual self and signed off from the call with a moonie! Later on I had the pleasure of Scottish Louise video calling me! She was pissed, in her shed drinking den at her home with some neighbour called Ronnie and her daughter Ellie. She was her usual outrageous self who imaprted such gems as “Tim, you look old” and “Roger on coke is the only time I’ve taken it up the arse”. Nice.

Day 34: Today I skyped Laurie and ‘met’ Matthew and Nicholas for the first time. It was bloody fantatsic. Janine was there as well.I cannot believe it takes lockdown (plus an idea to get Laurie to add me to his regular Monday skype chat with Dad) that managed to get us doing something that should have happened years ago! It was so great to talk to them all face-to-face. Janine hasn’t changed a bit, Matthew is very quiet with Nicholas being the more gregorious twin. And Laurie is still Laurie. I’m reminded of how much I sort of miss him! It was all so comfortable. I loved it! Tomorrow is Dad’s 85th hence the 3-way chat idea. I hope it comes off!

Day 35: So dad and Laurie and I skyped. It was OK but my video feed was very dark, (still dunno why) and Lauire’s kept freezing. I dropped out so as to leave them to it, my thinking being the extra person takes up bandwidth, with the promise I’d call dad later. Before I could, Rita called me and suggested Dad and I skype, which we did. So, all in all, a good day of comms! And Dad seems his happy usual self - 85 years old! Amazing.

Day 36: I am really struggling to motivate myself this week. Today, I’ve done fuck all of note. That is all.

Day 37: A similar day to yesterday. All I have really managed to do is lay down audio from Pink Floyd (Absolutely Curtains) to a video I shot of a cow on yesterday’s walk. I am having a downer of a week without any good reason why, ld aside. I have worn my new walking boots today (’cos my old ones are leaking, I found out yesterday) and they fucking hurt, despite having tried to wear them in for months, albeit pathetically. Also, a few days ago (Friday 24th April), I got notification from HM Revenue & Customs that I’m getting tax rebate (from 2018-19) of £392. Yay!

Day 38: I received notification today that I’ve got a speeding ticket…last Thursday back from Tesco’s - 87mph somewhere between the A1 and Elton. I am hoping it’s a fixed penalty. I dunno whether it is yet, I just have to send the form off confirming it’s my car and I was driving. I spoke with Lynda from Woodfords asking her to ask for a rent reduction before I sign for another year. Plus, I let her know that I will be Howard and Sue’s eyes as the look at rental properties in Oundle - I do hope they return although it would be a shame for them that their plans have been scuppered (she’s lost her job in Oz due to Covid-19)

Day 39: Today I started another piece of exercise - up and down the stairs 26 times. Not sure why 26 - it was some thing online to do with the London Marathon, I think. It fucking killed. I used 13 clothes pegs for a counting system. I asked Karen to pick up some stuff when she was shopping (burgers, radishes) - Dan dropped them off, He was with Shaggy (driving his van) and going to see Jonah. That pisses me off - they should be social distancing, ffs.

Discoevered, today, that Cornershop, post-Brinful are fucking excellent. listening to the album ‘England is a Garden’ as I type.

Day 40: That 26 times up and down the stairs is fucking hard. I did videos about it today. My legs are aching like fuck right now.

Day 41: Just done Young Sam’s (Sam Clews) quiz. 3rd week running and it’s now become a habit and something I look forward to. Out of all the internet driven socialising I’m undertaking in ld, this is the weirdest - I feel totally detatched from all others taking part but, now, would feel pissed off if I didn’t or couldn’t join in. I got 47/70 this week. My best score and only about 8 off the winning score  -  most others aren’t doing it on their own!

Today’s walk was a cloudy one - I captured some fine, dramatic pics of the clouds. I am getting into this photography lark, albeit very amateurish. But, when I post any pics online (mostly FB), they seem to be widely appreciated, which is nice.

Day 42: Applied for a remote service delivery job with a firm called TTEC. £60k. Finished watching The Outsider. The creepiest TV show I have seen in years. Really great use of background music.

Day 43: Finished Mindhunter S2 last night. It’s so good but I cannot quite put my finger on why. Today has been a nothing day apart from day 2 of me not typing the letter ‘e’ in any post or comments on FB for a week. It’s hard.

Day 44: Watch Anna last night. A Luc Besson film that starts a kick-ass suprermodel. It’s right down my street. Today I have been lazy af. I need to pick up my online learning again…tomorrow, maybe! I watched Andy Murray Resurfacing. A documentary on Amazon. Fantastic. What a top man he is. Completely human and completely inhuman!

Day 45: Much talk in the news of possible lockdown relaxation. I am off the opinion we should stay the course until we are completely assured of beathing this thing i.e. a working, widely available vaccine. Dad and I Skyped - he is doing well, as usual. So is Rita. They both seem very happy in lockdown! Today has been a glorious day, weather wise. I had my walkk at 10ish this morming and it was very warm. Hottest day of the year so far I reckon.

Day 46: Bank holiday Friday (75th anniversary of VE day). Nice walk. Chat with Karen letting her know about being caught speeding just in case I am banned and need some out of town shopping. Watched second episode of DEVS by Alex Garland. It’s good and intriguing. Now, @7pm, gonna eat and hit the beers and smokes.

Day 47: Typing this at 15:45 on day 48. I had lots of beers and a good old chat with Rog…

Day 48: Today’s daily press conference was eagerly anticipated today with rumours of a relaxation in lockdown. It seems it was a fuss about nothing with no clear instructions - I didn’t watch it but, skimming the BBC news site, I shan’t be doing anything different over the next few weeks, not that I would anyway - furlough and self isolation are the order of the day and I won’t change that until I am sure it’s safe. Meanwhile people, including Danny flaunt the rules, it’s been pointed out to me plus I know he spends time with Jonah and Marc. It really fucks me off. So, the actions of the few mean I will lock myself down for as long, if not longer, as it takes. Attended Sam Clews quiz again. It passes the time. Also, I had half a scotch bonnet chilli with tea tonight (roasted veg, cous cous and sausages). Ridiculously hot!

Day 49: Received the speaker I ordered a few days ago (from eBay). It’s an AudioPro Addon T10. I got it for a very reasonable price from a German shop. As a result, the power lead isn;t three pin and that has seriously fucked me right off!

Meanwhile, I did my 26 stair climb before my daily walk today. It was easier than usual (surprise surprise) and I did 7km - but that was tough! ‘Cos I am on (yet another) free trial of Amazon Prime, I am ramping up watching stuff available. Last night I watched Booksmart - really nice little film with a great soundtrack. I am listening to Dan the Automater as I type. Today I watched half (3 eps) of The Night Manager and the film ‘The Founder’. The former is a superb series, the latter an OK film about Ray Kroc - the supposed founder of McDonald’s. Except he wasn’t; he was the wrong side of ambitious and a cunt.

Day 50: Stripped the 2 pin cable from the speaker I received yesterday and wired up a 3 pin plug and it worked. Win. And it sounds great. Win-win. Went to go shopping in Hampton but the car wouldn’t start. Loss. But it was the battery so I managed to borrow Karen’s jump starter which worked. Win.

Spent £107. Loss. But just under £40 was booze plus £10 for two big pizzas, two sides (dirty fries) and some dips. Win. Didn’t do any online learning - seriously fucking letting myself down. Loss.

Did my usual walking and 26 stair climb. The latter is hard but defo getting easier. Win. Day 51: Sam’s 51st birthday on day 51 - coincidence! Today I received my face mask from Lou - House of Stewart tartan. I’m pleased with it and that I have got a mask now. I managed to get up at a reasonable hour, just left 09:00, and revisit my web design course. Module 1, lesson 5 and I am fucking stuck. Trying to code an online CV with a side nav bar and I cannot get it to fucking work. Grrrrrr. Later, i got into a FB dispute (easily distracted due to the above) with someone over his statement of fact (Tim Martin’s treatment of Whetherspoons’ employees) when he doesn’t know it’s fact. It probably is, but that is not the fucking point.  I wish I could leave these sort of spats alone. I am drinking, at 20:45, peppermint tea as I type. Jeez, what’s happened to me?

Day 52: Well, last night took a swift chnage. Rog message me and, to cut a long story short, I hit the beers, also called Foggy later, got trashed. I got up today at gone 1pm. Sam posted on fb that Paul had forgort her birthday yesterday. Oh dear! The 26 stair climb and walking each day is noticeable for how knackered my legs feel all the time, I noticed today!

Day 53: My birthday! Nice comments and banter of FB. Rachael brought round a bottle of whisky; gobsmacked. Karen popped round some beers and sausage rolls. Sam sent a card, as did dad with a £50 cheque. Dan’s ordering me a pizza later.

Chuffed! Day 54: I went to bed late after a lot of beers, huge pizza and chips, a few smokes and a long call with WWJ and video chats with Fog then Rog. Got up around 1pm and dossed with my usual exercises and I made fish pie with a scotch bonnet. Day 55: Late one last night but up early today (11ish). Really fretting about hospital tomorrow. Nervous anyway but the safety aspect, in terms of Covid-19, isn’t helping.

Day 56: Hospital appointment was just for an eye scan so the consultant can review it. I was very surprised to see how few people were wearing face masks! I did two lots of washing today. (After the hospital) I went to Morrsions, Asda (queue too long though), B&M (queue too long though) then Tesco’s. All to buy a baseball cap ‘cos I’m fucked if I’m going to wet my hair each time I go out and want it to look presentable! In Morrsions (no mens’ clothing apart from underwear!) I stocked up of 10 cans of sugarfree apple Caraboa….I was only thinking of this drink just the other day. Yesterday I finished The Night Manager on Amazon. I liked it a lot but, also, expected much, much more from it consdiering the hype. Hugh Laurie has come a long way from comedy sketches with Stephen Fry!

Day 57:Received an email from Sueanne yesterday asking ( as designated spokesperson for everyone) how I am. The most interestring piece of news in a rather uninformative email was that the US has started to open resorts!

Day 58: I am writing this on Day 59. I started a two walk a day regime. The first walk I do is shorter, around 4km. my aim is to be ready for 1,000,000 steps Diabetic UK challenge (throughout July, August and September). I need to do just under 11,000 steps a day. The relaxation in ld rules makes this achievable. On that score, I am allowed to visit a friend’s house, as long as it’s just the two of us, outside, 2m apart. I went round Karen’s last night. I was desperate to have a Happy Hour (I allow myself a midweek beer - today (well, yesterday) is/was Wednesday!) of sorts with another human (rather than a video chat). I was there for about 2 hours, very enjoyable, and then came home. Then I had usual roasted veg with rice and sausages but I couldn’t eat it. I used half a scotch bonnet rather than the usual birdeye chillis. It was too hot, had to sling it! Had a few more beers and, hence, neglected my diary duties!

Day 59: It’s 01:20am. I don’t know why I am still awake and up, but I am. But, also, I am now going to bed. Nothing else to report, really.

Day 60: Half way through 12 weeks furlough. I was discussing this with Dad and Rita earlier - I am expecting that, at the end of 12 weeks, I’ll be laid off. I hope I’m wrong but I reckon it’s well on the cards. Off to have a beer round Karen’s in a sec which will be pleasant. Just a hour or so. It’s fucking windy today so I shall wrap up!

[shipmistress9]

FTLOAP - 36.5 - Interlude 4: Late Insight

Fandom: HTTYD

Theme: Hiccstrid - Medieval-style AU - Romance - Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Reduced to little more than a stable boy, Hiccup, despite his noble birth, has few prospects for more in life. But when he meets a girl who came to look at the horses, being a stable boy might not be enough anymore. Together, they have tough choices to make and great risks to navigate if they want to survive and be together.

Rating: Explicit

FF-net  -  AO3 -

Discord-server for discussions and questions

Part 1: Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11;

Part 2: Chapter 12; Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Interlude 1; Chapter 15; Chapter 16; Chapter 17; Chapter 18; Chapter 19; Chapter 20; Chapter 21; Chapter 22; Chapter 23; Chapter 24; Chapter 25; Chapter 26; Interlude 2; Chapter 27: Chapter 28 ; Chapter 29 ; Chapter 30; Chapter 31; Chapter 32; Interlude 3; Bonus 1; Chapter 33

Part 3: Chapter 34; Chapter 35; Chapter 36

Alpha/Co-author: @athingofvikings

. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .

AN: I'll be honest and say... the reactions to the last chapter completely blew me away! There were some great reactions, on FFnet, on AO3, and on Tumblr, thank you all so very very much! That's what makes all the struggles and hardships of writing worth the while! :)

Now, I know you're all eager to know what happens next with Astrid and that announcement. But before we go back there in the next chapter, here's another interlude, and I guess many of you can guess who's POV we're getting. There's been quite some anger and hate coming up after the previous chapter for the King but also for Daniel, and I hope I can disperse at least part of that... They don't mean bad...

. o O o .

…so I am glad to inform you that the construction work on the fortress of Redpeak proceeds as planned. Thanks to Uncle Spitelout’s help with organizing the logistics and his recommendations on more people to help, we were able to start with the alterations even sooner than I had hoped. By now, a part of those alterations are already underway and the preparations for the remainder are complete. I trust in the overseers’ capability to supervise their execution. Thus I am confident in being able to return to the castle as planned once this last mission is complete.

Daniel reviewed the lines he'd just written and nodded to himself before sealing the paper with wax. It was just a short note, to be delivered by pigeon, and there were many points he would have liked to add, but hadn’t due to the limited space. But he couldn’t change it, and it wouldn't be long until his return to the capital anyway.

Sighing, he thought about all the things that would await him there. The report and a renewed expression of gratitude to Spitelout, because without his help, none of his current work would have worked out as effortlessly as it had. But there were also other, less pleasant duties awaiting him.

Like investigating the death of the former Count Ravenledge, for example. Even though Daniel had received the message weeks ago, shortly after his arrival in Westhill, it still irked him. By all accounts, the old man had been found dead in his cell the morning after Daniel had left the capital, letting him escape the slow and public death he’d been sentenced to as part of justice for his crimes. Even more worrisomely, the report suspected poison. With how secluded and securely the man had been guarded, Daniel could only think of one sensible explanation that didn’t involve their entire personal security having been compromised: his father had arranged for it. It also explained why the former count had agreed to confess after stonewalling: because he'd gotten a new offer, a quicker death in exchange for information. Daniel could see the… the merit in this decision, even as he didn't like it. They had needed that information far more than they'd needed another public execution. But it irked him that he hadn't been included in the plan. His father had probably thought he would be against it, would have demanded justice for the people of Ravenledge. Well, he would have been right, but still. Not knowing about the plan had made Daniel give a promise he felt more and more reluctant to keep with every day.

He had promised not to treat Angus, Harold's older brother, any differently, despite the crimes his father and brother had committed. It had been an easy promise at that time. Nothing in the reports they’d received indicated that Angus, who’d left his family in early years to receive extended education as a squire and a nobleman, had been involved in any of those crimes. But since Daniel’s return to Westhill, the young man had changed. Not enough to warrant disciplining him, but it was still obvious that he was upset about losing his birthright to title and land.

With another heavy sigh, he rubbed his face. He knew all too well that focusing on this problem – no matter how real it may be – only had one purpose right now. It was to distract him from what he really worried about upon his return to the castle: how Astrid would react when she saw him. For the umpteenth time this evening he glanced at the calendar on his small travel desk, and his heart sank. This wasn’t the first year he couldn’t be there for his sister’s birthday, what with him being a knight for two years now and a squire for many years before that. It had always pained him to not celebrate this day with her, but this year, it was so much worse. Because he knew this year was different. Maybe it was right now that their father held his speech; about the anniversary to their grandfather’s birthday, the planned festivities, and all the other made-up reasons they’d come up with to mask the real event.

Astrid’s upcoming wedding, and the time before where her suitors were supposed to compete for her favour.

It was a sickening plan, but it would certainly be effective. The prospect of the Princess’s hand in marriage would be a potent bait, potent enough to lure out even the most hesitant conspirators, and by the time they realised that the accidental deaths were only hitting the enemies of the Crown, it would be too late. But it pained Daniel to use something that was supposed to be a happy day for his sister for such a purpose, and the only solace he could find in any of this was that she would still get to choose.

It meant that not that much would change, or might even change to her advantage. He still put all his hopes in Eret, in that he and Astrid would finally be able to look beyond their sibling bond and see how good they would be for each other. But if there was someone else among the guests they’d invited, another nobleman that caught her interest, then she would be free to choose him instead. That was good, wasn’t it? It gave her more freedom than she ever could have hoped for, and the fact that all this would come two years sooner than expected wasn’t really that bad… right?

Groaning, Daniel let his head drop onto the table. She would hate it! He knew Astrid too well to fool himself on this. She would hate being used like this. She would hate being reduced to just the royal figurehead, nothing but a puppet in this scheme. And she would hate that she had no say whatsoever in this decision that so immensely changed her entire life. Maybe it wouldn’t change all that much in the end if she chose Eret as he hoped, but still.

“Is anything the matter, my Lord?”

Daniel sat up straight in an instant, looking up at the young man who had entered his private tent.

“Milburn,” he greeted his squire, buying time to recompose himself. “Yes, everything’s fine. I… just finished the letter for the King.”

Without a word of explanation needed he handed the folded and sealed paper over, and Milburn directly walked over to where the last of his carrier pigeons was waiting in its cage. It took him only a minute to fix the paper to the bird’s leg, whereupon he went to the tent’s entrance and let it loose.

“I brought you the reports from the scouts,” Milburn said as he returned, handing him a letter, probably from the captain of his guard. “It looks like the area is clear of any Malarian raiders. There’s one group of bandits operating in this general area, but they aren’t big enough to pose a threat to us. Nothing should get in the way of tomorrow’s trip to that outpost.”

Daniel nodded mutely. He hadn’t expected anything else, but it was still good to have the confirmation.

“So, now that this is dealt with…” Milburn began hesitantly. “May I ask what is bothering you, Milord? Anything I can do to help? Get you a mug of ale, for example?”

Smiling weakly, Daniel let out a snort. For two years now, Milburn had been his squire, but it still surprised him on a regular basis how good an observer the young man was. “No ale, thank you. It’s really nothing of importance, just…” he paused, considering options, then let out a heavy sigh. By now, secrecy wasn’t important anymore. Tomorrow, all the previously spread letters would become public declarations, announcing the eighty-one days of festivities and the Princess’s wedding as the crowning highlight. Telling his squire now beforehand wouldn’t do any damage anymore – the official part and his own worries, at least.

“Actually, you’re right,” he said ruefully. “There is something bothering me, but it’s nothing you can help me with.”

Milburn, easily able to interpret his master’s tone of voice, quickly seated himself on a stool, and watched Daniel in anticipation. It wasn’t often that Daniel could talk about official or personal topics with him, but when he did, Milburn was always eager to listen and often even able to help with a good piece of advice. Daniel doubted that he would ever become a skilled fighter, but he certainly would become a good advisor in a few years.

“It’s nothing… heavily important for the Kingdom,” he began slowly. “I’m mainly worried about my sister.”

Frowning, Milburn cocked his head? “The Princess? Why? Did something happen to her?”

The reaction made Daniel smile inwardly.  If he hadn’t known better, he might have thought the lad had a crush on Astrid. But knowing that women weren’t of any interest to him meant that his honest concern was merely born of politeness and the tentative friendship they had developed over the years.

“No, nothing happened to her. Not as far as I know at least; she should be fine. But it’s her birthday–” Milburn nodded knowingly, “–and the King will make a big announcement today. You’ll hear all about it in the next few days, but in the end, it all boils down to her marrying in less than two months. And I’m worried how she’ll take the news. She didn’t know about this plan beforehand, so as to not trouble her. But with no time to get used to it, I fear it’s going to be a shock to her. Announcing her wedding without even knowing who her husband is going to be, and even two years earlier than is customary…” he trailed off, shaking his head. No, she wouldn’t like it, and it truly pained him that she would have to go through this and that he wasn’t there to help her.

“You don’t know who she’ll marry?” Milburn asked, a little incredulously. “How’s that possible?”

“It… it’s complicated,” Daniel sighed, unable to explain the whole scheme to lure out their enemies. “All that’s certain is that she’ll have to choose her husband-to-be from a group of selected noblemen.” Of which she barely knows anyone, he added inwardly, scowling.

Milburn’s sudden laughter took him completely by surprise. Daniel looked up, puzzled by this reaction, and tried to make sense of it.

“I-I’m sorry, Milord,” he gasped, visibly fighting to pull himself together but failing miserably. “It’s just… it isn’t even funny, but… but I’ve heard so much and… and… Oh, Gods, I’m so sorry.”

Daniel watched in bewilderment until his squire had calmed down enough to speak clearly again.

“I’m truly sorry, please believe me. I didn’t mean to laugh about a topic that upsets you so much, Milord. And I’m sorry for your sister as well, that can’t be an easy time for her. I was just laughing, because… well, I know of at least one person who will be absolutely heartbroken about the news.”

Daniel snorted. “Oh?” he asked, not really interested. Aside from her status, Astrid had grown into a beautiful woman. He wasn’t blind, after all. He was used to hearing about people being infatuated with her.

But Milburn’s enthusiasm was unwavering. “Oh, yes,” he went on, chuckling again. “You see, the guards you brought with you from the castle were talking about it a lot. Well, probably not to you, I guess, but, well… Apparently, there’s been this new fellow around the castle? And whenever he’s around the Princess, he can’t take his eyes off her. From what I heard, it goes far beyond a normal crush, he even frequents an Ástir playing the role of the Princess. He never grew past the point of endearing puppy adoration though, not disturbing at all, they said, or they would have dealt with him already, and some say he’s even friends with the Princess, though that’s just a rumour. Either way, he’s going to be devastated when he hears about this. Ah, but I better not laugh too much about this, or meeting him come summer is going to be awkward,” he added, chuckling in slight embarrassment. Then he looked at Daniel. “Sir? Is... everything all right?”

Daniel had listened to the whole speech with growing alarm. Had there been someone stalking Astrid without him knowing about it? Hearing that his men would have dealt with the man if he’d gone too far was reassuring, but still. He was still wondering who this man could be when Milburn's last addition made him look up in confusion. “You expect to meet this man? How? Is he one of the new recruits? We don’t even know where those will be going yet.”

“Oh, I know,” Milburn nodded, grinning. “But I expect to be working in close proximity with this one. As I understand, you and the ducal heirs are going to form a team, right? So I expect to spend a lot of time with Sir Eret’s squire.”

Daniel blinked. He blinked again. And then it was his turn to burst out laughing. “You’re talking about Hiccup?” he gasped out, disbelievingly. Oh, sure, there had been a time when he’d hoped for this option; it would have solved two problems at once. But by now, that hope was long gone.

“Uh, yes, that was his name.” Milburn nodded, clearly surprised by his master’s reaction.

Shaking his head as his amusement simmered down, Daniel sighed. “Believe me, Hiccup doesn’t have a crush on my sister. I can confirm the rumours: he and the Princess indeed became good friends over the winter. But his heart belongs to someone else. He’d told us about her once, you see? I’ve never seen a man that much in love before. I mean… I might have been a little intoxicated at that time, but I still remember enough. That dazed smile and the enthusiasm with which he’d talked about his beloved. No, be assured, there’s no place in his heart for anyone else.”

Milburn cocked his head. “Are you sure? I mean, no offence, Milord, and you certainly know him better, but the men were all pretty convinced he only has eyes for your sister. Ah, well, but if he told you who his love is then they must be mistaken. Less funny but also less awkward, and better for him anyway.” He shrugged.

“Actually, he never…” Daniel began, but trailed off again, his mind suddenly working with rapid speed.

Hiccup had never told them who his beloved was. Only that he would need to convince her father and brother of his worth before he could marry her… A picture was forming in Daniel’s mind, but it didn’t make much sense yet. That… couldn’t be, could it? Yes, Hiccup was seeing Cami, but not because she played the part of the Princess, but because they were friends. On that point, the rumours already were wrong. But what about the rest? What about Hiccup looking at Astrid more than most others, enough to draw the attention of the guards? If he’d had a crush on Astrid, then he probably would have hidden that from him and Eret. But from others? There would have been no need.

Could it be? Daniel sifted through his memories, trying to remember what Hiccup had said about his beloved.

She’s amazing! I only met her after we got here, but it already feels as if we’ve known each other forever. She’s so beautiful, her eyes gleaming as bright as the sky, and her hair… her soft skin, and those sweet lips. I could spend all day kissing her. But she’s so much more than just beautiful, also kind and funny, witty and smart, strong and brave. So brave… And I love her. Gods, I do. I love her so much.

Daniel swallowed, hard. It fit… He hadn’t even wasted one thought about this back then, but the description, vague as it was, certainly fitted to his sister. Was Hiccup in love with Astrid? Was she the one he wanted to marry, whose family he had to convince? But how was Astrid thinking about all this, what did that mean for her? Had he brought danger into her life by involving Hiccup into their activities? Had he brought another unwanted admirer who would upset her with his advances? But no… Daniel clearly remembered Hiccup’s words in the tavern that night.  

“I want to marry her. And I will marry her one day. She’s the one for me, I know it.”

“So she feels the same?”

“Amazingly, she does.”

Yes, those had only been his words. Sure, he’d gotten to know Hiccup as nothing but honest and honourable, but could he trust him in this? Could it be that Astrid felt the same? With these thoughts, another picture rose to his mind’s eye. The picture of Astrid hugging Hiccup tight at the Grand Blot. At that time, Daniel had been stunned by her seeking this kind of closeness to a man, so shortly after Harold’s assault, and then the fear in her eyes afterwards had convinced him that it must have been nothing but a thoughtless reaction. But when he thought about it now… It was remarkable how easily and naturally the motion had come, how she’d seemed to know exactly where to place her arms. How relaxed and at ease she’d been in that moment. And the fear… it hadn’t been directed at Hiccup, Daniel realised with a start. It had been directed at him!

“Oh dear Gods,” he breathed as everything clicked into place. With unseeing eyes he gazed into the distance as his mind raced through the weeks they’d spend together. Astrid had been so different. He’d written that off to Eret’s presence and the horses, but even with those explanations, the changes in her behaviour had surprised him. But if she’d fallen in love, for real, it all made sense. Her cheerful mood, her dreamy smiles, her enthusiasm and occasional distractedness. All that made sense when she and Hiccup had been in love all this time.

He gasped out a laugh, a disbelieving smile on his face. This was everything he’d hoped for. His beloved sister, happy and cared for by a man who truly loved her, a man he respected. And a new purpose for a friend who’d lost everything.

But why hadn’t she told him? Why had they kept it a secret? She used to tell him everything…

The answer came to Daniel with a painful sting. The fear in Astrid’s eyes. She’d been afraid of him, of his reaction. And after Harold’s assault, that even made sense in a way. Daniel would have punished everyone who would have dared to lay hand on her, and he even remembered how he’d warned Hiccup to not touch her again on that first night. But did she really believe he’d do anything if she was happy? Again, he tried to go through past events in his mind, how Astrid begging for mercy had only made things worse, how he’d sworn to himself to more trust in his own judgement in the future, and realised… Yes, she did believe that. And to his own disgrace, he couldn’t even say that he blamed her.

“What have I done?” he muttered, face buried in his hands. If Astrid didn’t trust him enough, then that was on him alone, he knew that. But if he’d known, he would have done everything to support them. Talk to their father, provide Hiccup with enough influence to make him eligible. It wouldn’t have been easy, but surely possible, somehow. It had to be. But now, it was too late, he realised with a start. The announcement was made, the group of suitors already picked. Astrid was to marry one of the invited men – and Hiccup wasn’t one of them. If only she’d told him!

But no, it was not too late! Daniel refused to believe that. His father was the King, for Odin’s sake! That had to count for something. And he had promised to support Hiccup in convincing his beloved’s family.

Hastily, he reached for another sheet of paper and his pencil, startling his squire with his sudden activeness. “Milburn, get another pigeon ready. I need to write another letter to my father.” There had to be something they could do. Maybe they could make Hiccup a baron or even a count. Or he could become an advisor of some rank, just putting him into any position that would make it acceptable for Astrid to choose him if that was what she wanted. If there was a chance for her to marry for love, then Daniel would do everything to make it possible.

He started to scribble a few quick lines to his father, explaining the situation and asking for his help, when Milburn clearing his throat drew his attention. The lad was still sitting on his stool, unmoving and with a look of discomfort on his face.

“I-I’m sorry, Milord,” he said in an apologetic voice. “But you can’t send another carrier pigeon; I just sent our last one off.” He shrugged helplessly, looking truly miserable for being unable to follow his command.

“Oh, for the…” Daniel cursed. He brought his fist to the table, making the simple construction tremble. No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening! Astrid’s happiness was too important to him; he just couldn’t give up. Not now, not if there was a chance that what he’d just put together was true.

But it wasn’t too late yet. There were still weeks before Astrid was to decide on a betrothed. With a grim expression and a stern face, he said, “Go, and tell the men they are to pack their things tonight already. We set out as soon as possible in the morning.”

Milburn stood up, nodding in understanding, but hesitated nonetheless. “Of course. But may I ask for the reason of this change of plan? I assume the men would react better to this news if they also got a brief explanation.”

Daniel nodded. “Calling this last mission off when we’re already so close to our goal would be stupid,” he replied grimly. “But as soon as it’s done, we’re heading back to the next fortification. I need to get hold of a carrier pigeon to the castle as soon as possible, and I won’t tolerate being held up by laziness.”

Milburn nodded and left the tent without another word, and Daniel stared at his resolutely clenched fists. He wasn’t happy about this delay, felt as if every day of waiting might be too much. But there was nothing he could do about it, and sending this letter with a delay of three or four days would certainly still be enough.   

Wouldn’t it?

. o O o .

So, a short one this week, but one that answered some questions from earlier, I think. And probably posed some new ones. As always, I'd be happy to hear about your thoughts and reactions. ;)

And I want to put a warning here. I don't want to switch to a solid two-weeks-schedule just yet, but I want to say that it's possible that two-weeks-gaps may happen more often in the future. If so, then there will always be a warning here.

Next Chapter

[pockets-of-peace]

Everyone has little bits of their personality that aren’t nice. One of my husband’s is that he gets sulky and resentful when we can’t afford to get him something that he really wants, usually a new video game. I try to make it happen as often as possible, but sometimes I just can’t budget in that extra $40-$60. And right now he’s sulky and resentful that we don’t have the extra $30 this pay period to finish off the two pre-orders he’s got going on right now. Have to pay rent today, plus car insurance, gas, and groceries. And make sure we have a little bit of mid-week money for emergencies. The little bit of extra money I did have bought some groceries last weekend, fast food out a couple of nights so I could take a break from cooking, and what I have left is going to pay for this month on mom’s storage and a little of her back balance. I still have to get Liam an entire new wardrobe this autumn, I’ve pushed his clothes as far as I can, and there’s Christmas on the horizon. We still have no idea when the life insurance will come through because they need the death certificate to get the ball rolling on that and the county still hasn’t issued us one! We don’t have credit cards either. We live paycheck to paycheck on. what. we. can. afford. Or we go without. 

I just.. I don’t need his petty resentments about not getting a $60 treat right now, and I don’t give a single fuck if the first half of the money was his father’s day gift from his parents. I. Don’t. Care.  

He’s also starting to get frustrated with how depressed I am. I don’t laugh, I don’t smile, I don’t tease. Most nights, if I’m not passed out early, I’m upstairs working through the small mountain of boxes I pulled of her house. The enormity of what I’m feeling right now can’t be explained. Not only was my mom beaten to death ffs, but we’re coming up on the year anniversary of my grandmother’s death. I’ve lost my actual mother, and the woman who was for all intents and purposes my emotional mother in the same year. Fuck it’s so bad that even one of the maintenance men from the complex noticed it, and asked me if I was ok!!! Seriously!!

All of THAT aside, I’m wrapping up the life of someone who left it mid-sentence. She had no intention of dying. I’m going through her paperwork, and figuring out her debt and finances, trying to figure out what what her assets were, and what we’re looking at losing through probate court. Cleaning out her home, and now, her storage unit. Planning a funeral and traveling to take care of all of the above. Working with the detectives on a homicide case, and trying to figure out what information I’ll need for a wrongful death lawyer. Rounds of phone calls keeping her siblings in the loop every step of the way. And in going through her things there’s the emotional toll of learning just exactly her state of mind at the time of her death. Learning just how deeply she was swan diving off of sanity. Learning things about her, and my dad!! that I never knew. Hell the woman kept knowledge and secrets around her like priceless treasures. I’m the only one doing this. I’m her only child. That’s it. Just me. No help. No sharing of the burden. Just. Me. 

You know.. something I found shortly after I got back from the first trip up there... At the bottom of a box marked with my dad’s name was a baby book she’d started for me, and one she was in the middle of making and I dunno, got bored or side-tracked and never finished it. There was pregnancy journal/calendar, and all the memorabilia from her baby shower, and the Christmas just before I was born. Things I’d never seen before, things I never even knew existed. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to read those baby books and that calendar??? I couldn’t. I. Could. Not. I got halfway through it and had to set it aside for good because I was sobbing too hard. It’s tucked away now. I don’t want to see it again for a very long time. 

There are so many things that will never be resolved, so many questions I’ll never get to ask. And through it all I have to live with the knowledge of what her last few days/moments were like. She knew she was dying, she knew she was having a heart attack. She was all alone. She lived in the fracking middle of no where with no neighbors, a fracking mile long poorly maintained dirt road through the woods before you even got to her place. The EMTs took so long to get to her. The drive to the hospital was 20 minutes long. Was she afraid? Was she ready to go? Would she have wanted to keep hold of life?  ..... Was she afraid?????  I’ll never know. 

All of that on my mind and I just can’t with his subtle annoyance anymore. He’s never lost a parent, let alone both, and the grandparent he was closest to died when he was 12. He has no clue what I’m going through and I’m fucking sick and tired of saying as calmly as I can “Just wait until you loose one”, or “Wait until both of yours have died... then you’ll understand.” 

And his fucking mother!!! Neither of his parents have asked to speak to me personally about what’s going on. Neither have offered condolences. His mother every time she calls she asks for updates, but it’s like she just wants the gossip. “How is she doing? So what’s the latest???” Like, OOooo, her mother died due to injuries from being beaten in a domestic violence incident, how juicy.  ..... I could be way off base with that, but damned if that’s not how she’s making me feel. And not even three weeks after mom died she had the audacity to ask us to travel up to Tenn because she was flying down to visit her sister, and then pitched an epic fit when he told her he had neither the money or the time off. Like, FFS MY MOTHER JUST DIED!! DO YOU REALLY THINK WE HAVE THE TIME/MONEY FOR THAT?!?!

He has been a good support at my back, don’t think he hasn’t. But I can tell it’s wearing thin on him. And I just. I can’t deal with that right now. 

I get that he has no idea how to handle depression, because he’s never experienced it. 

I get that he has no clue the magnitude of what I’m going through because both of his parents are still alive. 

Just ... my gods I didn’t need that silent hissy fit tonight because I don’t have an extra $30 for a game. I get he’s been looking forward to this release for months. I get that he might lose that money because it was put on the game from a gift card he’s not sure he has anymore. But my god man. I just lost my mom. IT’S APPLES TO ORANGES. BUCK UP AND GET OVER IT!!

I just needed to vent. 

[winterbaby89]

I’m Falling For You

Summary: All it takes is one text to make Killian’s world stop… one text from his best friend since college to simultaneously break his heart and breathe new life into him, effectively turning his world on its head.

Killian is Emma’s rock. The one person she knows that will be there for her time and again. When the break up from hell, and residual fallout, puts her best friend, once again, in the role of caregiver and comforter, Emma can no longer deny the feelings that have been brewing within her ever since college.

Can the magic - and questionable mixture of alcohol and pain meds - during the holiday season finally force the confessions they’ve both been suppressing for years?

Rated M

A/N: This fic was inspired by the song of the same name, by Chester See. If you haven’t listened to it, I recommend it.

I want to thank and give all the love to the lovely ladies that helped me get this fic finished, be it by beta-ing, cheerleading, or being the second set of eyes that I don’t seem to possess… So, THANK-YOU @hollyethecurious, @ilovemesomekillianjones, and @kmomof4.

**Special thank you to @hollyethecurious for creating the fantastic aesthetic to go with the fic for my birthday week reblogs.**

Line break indicates change in scene or POV.

Also on AO3 and FF

All it takes is one text to make Killian’s world stop… one text from his best friend to simultaneously break his heart and breathe new life into him, effectively turning his world on its head.

Emma : I need you. Walsh and I broke up. Can you come get me? I’m at Mass General.

Killian : I’m on my way love, are you alright?

Emma : I will be.

“Hey Li, I have to go. I’ll call you later, yeah?” Killian’s slight panic must bleed into his voice because Liam’s response on the other side of the line is his concerned papa bear tone.

“Everything okay Kil?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, but Emma’s just sent me a text from the hospital, I’m heading there now.”

“Oh! Okay, well I’ll talk to you later little brother. Go take care of your girl.” Liam promptly hangs up, not giving Killian a chance to correct him.

“Younger. And she’s not mine, no matter how much I might wish it,” he mutters anyway, to no one in particular.

The whole drive to the hospital he is on autopilot, his thoughts lost in a swirl of memories.

Northeastern University four years ago:

Killian was glad to be back on campus after his summer in New York, as much as he loved Liam, his older brother could be a bit much, plus being back meant he’d get to see Emma again. All last year he tried to deny what he felt for her, but as the saying goes, absence makes the heart grow fonder , and fonder was putting it lightly when discussing how head over heels in love he was with his best friend. Killian was planning to tell her just that, as soon as he could make it to her dorm, after dropping off his stuff in his own.

Knocking excitedly on Emma’s door, Killian was confused when a half naked guy answered the door instead of his Emma.

“I’m sorry. I guess I have the wrong room, I’m looking for Emma Swan.”

“No you got the right room buddy, but she’s kinda busy,” the shirtless guy all but sneered at him with an unimpressed look on his face.

“Oh!” Embarrassment colored his voice as he turned to leave, tossing out, “Sorry to have bothered you. Can you have Emma text me when she’s unoccupied?”

“Sure thing… who are you?” Killian could hear the condescension oozing from every word the guy says.

“Killian?”

At the sound of Emma calling his name, Killian  turned back around. Based on the look Mr. Rude and Pretentious was wearing, he could tell that the guy wasn’t expecting Emma to come to the door, and he wasn’t too thrilled she was calling out his name either. Emma continued on, oblivious to the tension, “Hey. There you are. Where are you going?” As he looked at his best friend, Killian noticed her look of confusion.

“I was informed you were busy, so I was going to leave you to it.” Killian’s tone was curt and clipped, trying not to let his heartbreak show, which only caused Emma’s confusion to deepen.

“Busy? No, Neal was just helping me get unpacked. Why don’t you come in.”

Killian could see plain as day on Neal’s face, that he didn’t want another man around. “Emma, I don’t think-”

“Oh! I’m sorry. You two haven’t met before, have you? Killian, this is Neal. Neal this is my best friend Killian.”

That day was the beginning of the hopelessly tortured road to the end for him. He’d had to watch from the sidelines as Emma dated Neal (controlling, cheating arse ), then Graham ( poor sod was hopelessly in love with their friend Ruby ), then August ( guy found himself a great boyfriend in the hatter’s son ), and up until tonight it would seem, Walsh. Walsh had lasted the longest of the four.

They didn’t all end badly, but over the course of four years Killian stood by and watched as each time she would excitedly enter into these relationships, completely unaware of the effect it had on him. When things did go bad, he’d be there to help her pick up the pieces and rebuild, leaving her a little more guarded and her walls a little higher than before. When it went bad, it was bad , and Neal, the bastard, was bad enough for a lifetime.

Little did Killian know that Neal would have nothing on Walsh…

Two Hours Earlier:

Walsh really outdid himself tonight, Emma muses. He’s made a reservation for them at Mama Maria’s for their eight month anniversary. Although Emma suspects this evening to also be his last ditch effort to convince her to go with him to his family’s estate in Connecticut to spend Christmas. He’s been trying to persuade her since before Thanksgiving, after she’d told him she would be spending that particular holiday with her brother, some friends, and their families. Killian’s brother had come into town with his wife Elsa, and they’d all shared a nice intimate holiday with old friends at David and Mary Margaret’s. Since then Walsh has been insisting they spend Christmas with his family, since she’d had Thanksgiving with hers, but she has been steadfastly refusing.

Dinner is a tense affair despite being a celebration, because Walsh keeps going on about the things they must see, or do while they are in Connecticut. Emma’s had enough, and is trying not to snap at Walsh about how she is absolutely not going home with him for Christmas. She’s impatient to get home to a large glass of wine, her favorite pj’s, and the Princess Bride. Maybe I’ll text Killian to see if he wants to join me after his weekly call to Liam, she ponders.

When the server comes around inquiring about dessert, Emma tries to politely pass, but Walsh is insistent that she try the tiramisu because apparently it’s the talk of Boston. Emma sighs agitatedly, acquiescing to the tiramisu.

When the server brings the plate around, Walsh grabs her hand and squeezes as her eyes land on the ring neatly set into the ganache.

“Walsh…” Emma trails off as her brain attempts to grasp what her eyes are seeing.

Walsh must take her stunned expression as a good sign, as he begins his pre-composed speech. “Emma, I know most people wouldn’t consider eight months a very long time, but I believe we know each other well enough. I see no point in wasting any more time. So, marry me, become Mrs. Walsh Osmond.”

“Walsh. I’m sorry. But… no.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“I can’t marry you. I didn’t realize you felt this way, but I thought you knew, I’m not ready for marriage, I’m sorry.” Emma pulls her hand free of Walsh’s grasp, then standing from her seat, she pulls on her coat and heads for the door.

Walsh comes bursting through the door just moments after her looking incensed. “How could you do that to me Emma? Do you realize how much of a fool you just made me look? All of those strangers staring at me with pity. We will be getting married, and you will come with me to Connecticut for Christmas, so we can celebrate our engagement with my family.”

“Walsh, I am not some Stepford Wife , at your beck and call, to carry out your every whim. We are not getting married, and I am not going to Connecticut. I mean, we’ve been fighting about Christmas for the last several weeks. In all that time, what made you think I was going to change my mind and decide to go with you?”

“I knew you’d change your mind once we were engaged. My family is expecting us to come together, they’re already planning an engagement party for us that weekend, at the country club.”

“YOU TOLD THEM?! Why did you tell them before you even asked me?”

“Because I knew it was a sure thing.”

“A sure thing?! A SURE THING?! Well, buddy, you got that wrong… now you have to go home with your tail tucked between your legs, and explain to your family how you misled them. Because like I said inside, I’m not marrying you. We are through.”

“Don’t be like that Emma. You know we’ll have a large wedding in the spring, in Connecticut-”

“NO! Just stop right there. Walsh I have told you no, numerous times, we are not getting married, I am not following you to Connecticut. WE. ARE. THROUGH. You are deranged, and I have no idea what I ever saw in you.” Emma turns away from Walsh, planning to put this boy and this night in the rearview. The next thing she knows there is a burning sensation in her shoulder as Walsh jerks her back to him by the crook of her arm.

“Get back here. We are not done.”

Emma struggles against his hold, intensifying the pain in her shoulder. “Let go of me, you lunatic-” Her next words are cut off as Walsh’s fist connects with her face. Thankfully, Walsh lets go of her arm as she falls back from the force of the blow. She stumbles backward until she hits an antique light post, she tries to protect her shoulder from the impact. “You bastard,” she grits out as an intense burning sensation blossoms around her eye.

“Emma, it didn’t have to be like this.” Walsh approaches, fists clenching, looking like he’s going to continue his physical tirade.

Before he has the chance to swing again, Emma thrusts her good elbow upward and catches Walsh’s nose. She knows she has hit her mark when blood starts gushing like Niagara, causing him to stumble back clutching his broken nose.

Moments later the cops and paramedics arrive on the scene, alerted to the situation by concerned patrons watching the scene from inside the restaurant.

Killian arrives at the hospital having worked himself up into a worried frenzy, but he’s trying to contain himself, for Emma. He parks in the first spot he sees, barely managing to turn the car off before running into the ER to find her.

He is directed through the security doors, toward the nurses station, where he can get more information. As he comes around the corner, he spies David at the end of the hall. As soon as David sees Killian headed towards him, he moves to meet him halfway.

“How is she mate, is she okay? What the bloody hell happened?”

David puts an arm around Killian’s shoulders, with a wary look on his face. “Here, come with me. She’s been treated for a fractured orbital socket, and they had to reset her dislocated shoulder. She’ll be okay. But it’s probably best you hear the whole story from her.” David leads him along the hallway to Emma’s room.

Killian wonders why David came to the hospital, but isn’t in the room with his sister. Probably on duty and can’t stay too long, Killian thinks.

Opening the door he walks into her room; seeing his best friend on the hospital bed looking beaten to hell shatters his heart. Emma has massive bruising around her left eye, a sling protecting her right arm, and is sitting cross legged on the bed with an IV in her right hand. Looking at Emma the rest of the world fades away, and Killian doesn’t even notice as David shuts the door to allow them some privacy.

“Love. What happened?” Killian asks quietly as he makes his way to her side.

“Don’t worry Killian, I’m fine, promise.” She tries to give him a reassuring smile, but he is not fooled.

“Fine?! Darling, you’re always fine. But there is nothing fine about this situation.” He tries for levity, to curb his distress at her current situation. He does not want to tax her any more than she already is.

“If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy.” Emma gives him a cheeky grin as she banters back.

“Guy?! What guy? I thought you were in an accident.” As the words leave his mouth he sees the smile slip from Emma’s face as she looks down at her lap.

Without looking up, Emma says, “I’ll tell you everything that happened, but you have to promise me you won’t overreact.”

The weight of her tone leads him to sit at the end of the bed. As she continues to avoid his concerned gaze, Killian reaches out to gently grasp her free hand reassuringly. “Alright Swan, tell me.”

She tells him the whole sordid affair, from the tense dinner, to the proposal, to the brawl in the street. Never once does she look up from their joined hands. He sits in stunned silence, processing everything he’s just been told. The quiet in the room is broken by the nurse coming in with all of Emma’s discharge paperwork, and prescriptions.

“We would like to give you a dose of something stronger to help with the pain, so you can get some sleep tonight. Will there be someone with you?”

Without looking away from Emma, Killian responds before she can say a word, “Aye. She’ll be staying with me tonight.” When Emma looks like she is going to protest, he speaks up a little louder, “Please don’t fight me on this Swan, take the medicine, so you can sleep tonight.”

“If you’d like sir, bring your car around to the entrance, and we’ll wheel her out in a few minutes.”

Killian nods and leaves the room to retrieve his car, while walking down the hall he sees David is still there. Realizing that he is in the exact same spot as before the reason why David wasn’t with Emma hits Killian.

“Son of a bitch!” Killian curses, knowing that David has Walsh in custody. “Bastard is still here.” Killian storms down the hall with a murderous intent for Walsh.

“David, mate.”

“Killian?”

“The bastard is in there isn’t he?”

“Don’t even think about it Killian.”

“Oh, I’ll do more than think about it. Go get a coffee, give me five minutes alone with him.”

“Emma has already pressed charges, we’ll handle Walsh. Right now Emma needs you, and you’ll be no good to her if I have to arrest you, too.”

“Then don’t arrest me.”

“Not gonna happen Jones. Go take care of Emma. If it’s any consolation, she shattered his nose.”

As he is about to retort that it’s still not good enough, he hears Emma’s concerned voice call his name. Deciding the low life isn’t worth it, Killian gives David a nod, then turns on his heel to go catch up to the nurse pushing Emma towards the exit.

The nurse wheels Emma out, and waits on the sidewalk with her as Killian quickly brings his car around. Pulling up right in front of them, Killian puts the car in park, and moves out and around to help Emma get up. By the time he makes it to her side she is half asleep, thanks to the meds, but still cognizant enough to slap his hand away as he tries to help her get up out of the wheelchair. Emma makes it to her feet, but doesn’t even get a step towards the car before she’s falling sideways into Killian’s chest.

“Easy there Swan.”

“I’mng good. Mmm-got it. G’off me.”

Realizing exactly how high she is right now, Killian can’t suppress the chuckle that rumbles up from the depths of his belly. “Whatever you say Swan. As graceful as your namesake you are. Up you go, let’s get you in the car.”

After getting Emma in the passenger seat, Killian has to reach across her to get her buckled in, because she’s already half asleep, again . Whatever they gave her didn’t take long, and I’m glad, she needs her rest after tonight , Killian muses. He has to take it slow on the drive home to avoid throwing Emma’s injured shoulder into the door as he’s taking corners.

Finally making it to their apartment building, Killian has to carry Emma up the two flights of stairs to their floor. Maneuvering around her dead weight to unlock the door, Killian finally gets the two of them inside his apartment. Traversing the familiar terrain easily, Killian safely makes it to his bedroom, depositing Emma on the bed as gently as he can manage. As he is getting her tucked in under the covers, Emma burrows her nose into his pillow and inhales deeply. Killian freezes as she mumbles on a breathy exhale, “Mmmm, smells so good, just like Killian.” His heart stutters in his chest at her not quite declaration, thinking that maybe there is hope for him after all.

Two Weeks Later:

Curled up in her corner of the couch, legs tucked up under her, nursing her now lukewarm cup of cocoa, Emma is lost in her thoughts. She recalls her moment of panic less than a week ago, when she realized that she and Killian had been successfully cohabitating in his apartment. Domestic, and perfect, and just not in the cards for her, because she’s in love with her best friend, and he will never see her as anything more. She had to run, she had to protect herself, because if she had stayed at Killian’s another day, she would have ended up doing something to fuck it all up. She couldn’t lose Killian, so before he could push her away, she ran; to protect herself, and her battered heart.

The only reason she’s nursing a mug of cocoa instead of something a little stronger is because she had agitated and inflamed her shoulder. She’d tried to do too much, too soon, just to prove she could, which landed her with another round of pain meds and a stern talking to from her brother, sister-in-law, doctor, Killian, and even Liam (via Skype).

Of course it had been Killian to find her crying on her bathroom floor, unable to put her arm through the sleeve of her robe, because of the intense searing pain. The faint flush of his cheeks when he found her like that had to have been from the residual heat of the shower she’d just left. Always a believer in good form, and gentlemanly behavior, he hadn’t even tried to sneak a peek under her robe as he helped her get her arm into the sleeve.

Since the day she re-injured herself, Killian had been crashing on her couch every night. He’d make his excuses to not have to leave, and supply her with all manner of coffee, food, and treats. He made sure she had breakfast and dinner daily, and ensured she took her pills before he’d leave to get ready for work. She loved the attention and doting, and the more fanciful part of her brain kept insinuating that it meant more. But she couldn’t listen to that voice, that part was an idiot, and couldn’t be trusted anymore. Emma couldn’t let herself hope; hope was a dangerous thing for someone like her.

Emma is brought out of her musings and self-chastisement by Killian ringing the doorbell. She opens the door to reveal the man of her dreams, also the man who torments her dreams; his hands are full of take out from their, her, favorite Chinese place around the corner. She gladly lets him into her apartment, helping him juggle all of the take out containers.

As he goes to retrieve the silverware and drinks, Emma queues up Princess Bride for them to watch as they eat.

After they’re done eating, Emma finds herself more focused on Killian than her favorite movie, noticing the small things more than she’s ever thought to. There’s nothing new about his arm slung across the back of the couch, his hand absentmindedly playing with one of her curls. Everything appears to be the same, normal even, but her thoughts from earlier, and what could be, keep coming back to the surface, making her inspect and scrutinize everything for deeper meaning.

She’s startled out of another such musing when Killian turns to look at her with a pensive look on his face, she hadn’t even realized the movie had ended.

“Everything alright Swan? You seem to be somewhere else tonight.”

“Yeah. Sorry. I’m fine, just tired I guess. Everything okay with you?”

“I’m fine Swan. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Or with anyone else.” Killian gives her a sweet smile, the smile she recognizes as her smile, before a slightly anxious look passes across his features, “Actually, there is something I need to talk to you about.”

“I find whenever a guy says that, I’m rarely in for a pleasant conversation.”

Smothering his chuckle, Killian sobers once more, “Nothing bad, I promise. I just wanted to let you know that I’m not going to be able to bring you dinner tomorrow, you’ll have to fend for yourself. I am finalizing those contracts that I’ve been working on with that big client tomorrow, and then it’s expected that I take her to dinner afterwards.”

“Big client? You mean Tink? From Pixie Dust Development? The handsy one?”

“Handsy? What are you talking about, Swan? But, yeah, if I land this contract, it will put Jones Bros Designs in the black for years to come.”

“You know what, nevermind. I hope that the deal works out well for your company. Come on, it’s late, and you have to get up for work in the morning, we should really get to bed.”

“Absolutely, love. Your bed or mine?” he teases. His over the top flirtatiousness usually draws a laugh, or at the very least a good natured eye roll, but her traitorous thoughts from earlier choose that moment to come back to the forefront, making her wonder, what if? When she doesn’t respond with anything but a tense silence, Killian asks, “Are you sure you’re okay Swan?”

“What? Oh… yeah sorry, like I said, just tired.” Emma vacates the couch so Killian can lay down, since the man refuses to sleep in his apartment lately. She hurries off down the hallway to her room, listening to Killian settle onto her couch for the night. She also hears his tossed out reminder to take her pain pills just before she shuts the bedroom door behind her.

Emma has a fantastic boss, and her dream job, but unfortunately because of her bastard ex she is on administrative leave through Christmas. She can’t properly do her job until she is fully healed.

Most people would think that being a social worker would be a less than desirable job, but for Emma it is her way to give back to the kids like her. Orphans. As soon as Christmas is over, because of all the foster families that wait until the holiday has passed to send the kids back, she knows that she will be busier than ever, which just isn’t right.

So she really should enjoy the quiet that she’s got now, but she can’t stop herself from thinking about Killian alone with Tink. Every scenario she comes up with is worse than the last. Finally, unable to stand the thoughts any longer, she goes in search of that half full bottle of rum that she knows is hiding in her kitchen somewhere. Prescription warning labels be damned.

The bottle of rum, now empty, sits on her coffee table. Emma can’t keep herself from wondering if Killian had accompanied Tink home. With a set purpose, she gets up from her couch on wobbly legs, and makes her way back to her room. She is a woman on a drunken mission.

Killian is glad to finally be home, excited, elated even, at having secured a massive multi-million dollar contract for his and Liam’s architecture firm. Tink had been a little more aggressive than anticipated, after she’d had a few drinks at dinner. Luckily they had all of the paperwork signed and completed before they had gone out; she had looked a bit perturbed when he’d rebuffed her advances.

Kicking his front door closed behind him, Killian contemplates making his way over to check on Emma after taking his shower. Weighing his options, he realizes that it might be nice to actually sleep in his bed for the first time since she got hurt. As he is contemplating that luxury, Killian makes it through his bedroom door, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight before him. Emma Swan. Naked. Passed out, on my bed. Naked. I’d recognize the drunk hicca-snore anywhere. Naked. Why is she naked, in my bed? This is my bed, aye? Doubting that he’s actually come into his own apartment, since he’s so used to being in hers lately, Killian goes back out into the hall to double check the number printed on his door. It is.

Making his way back inside the apartment, and ensuring the door is secured behind him, Killian makes his way to the linen closet to get a blanket for Emma. He knows he won’t be getting any answers tonight as Emma sleeps solidly through his attempts to cover her completely. He affords her the softest and warmest comforter he owns, so as to ensure that her supple backside won’t be subjected to the cool night air; and to protect her modesty should she turn over at some point while she sleeps.

Having resigned himself to another night on the couch, at least it’s comfortable, Killian proceeds with his plan of taking a shower, and if he should have the need to relieve some tension that had stirred to life at the sight of Emma’s delectable assets, none need be the wiser.

She wakes to the sunlight streaming onto her face, wondering, why in sam hell is my blackout curtain not working? Starting to take inventory of herself and her surroundings, Emma comes to several conclusions rather quickly. Oh shit! This isn’t my bed. Why am I naked? Damn my head hurts like a son of a bitch, what the hell happened last night?

As she thinks back to the night before, she tries to mentally retrace her steps. Emma remembers having worked herself up into such a state of agitation thinking about Killian and Tink together, that she drank every last drop of rum left in the bottle. The last memory she has is getting up off of her couch with determination. What the hell was I so determined to do? Everything after that is fuzzy.

How did I get to Killian’s apartment? The key, that’s right, he gave me his spare key… Taking stock of her current lack of clothing, surely I must have taken them off before getting in his bed, right? Looking around the room, there are no clothes scattered on the floor. I didn’t? I wouldn’t. Did I really walk across the hall naked and break in to my best friend’s apartment, and pass out on his bed? Was he home? How much of me did he see? How did he react? Fuck! How awkward is this going to be? Deciding there is nothing for it, she gets out of his bed to face the music, before he comes to confront her.

Making sure the coast is clear, Emma gets up and dashes for Killian’s closet to find something to cover herself with. Picking her favorite hoodie of his and a really soft pair of boxers, she heads out in search of Killian, only to find him in the kitchen. His back is to her as he works at the stove, making what smells like… pancakes? He’s making me pancakes?

“So wanna tell me why you were passed out in my bed, love?” He turns his head just enough so she can see that damnable quirked brow of his, “Not that I’m complaining about coming home to a beautiful woman in my bed… I’d thought Christmas had come early.”

“Yeah… sorry about that… I was upset,” Emma mumbles as she avoids Killian’s gaze, afraid of what she might find.

“Upset? What were you upset about?” Killian sounds genuinely concerned, but she still refuses to look at him.

“Nothing, I was just upset, and got drunk, and I think it reacted funny with my medication.”

“Swan. You know you’re not supposed to drink with your medication.”

“Nevermind, you know what, just forget about it. I’ll just leave you alone. Sorry for bothering you.” As she turns to leave, she feels Killian’s hand gently wrap around her uninjured elbow, turning her to face him.

“Emma, love, stop. What is going on?”

Well hell! Way to ruin things Emma, way to ruin everything, like always. He knows something is up, he actually is quite perceptive. Honestly this may be my last chance to say something, I may have already lost him, and I can’t let him go, without at least telling him.

Emma brings her panic filled eyes to meet Killian’s concerned gaze as she solidifies her resolve. Now or never Emma , “I’m in love with you. That’s what, and I don’t know how to deal with it, along with the fact that you don’t see me as anything more than a friend.” Her voice starts out strong, but as she reaches the end, it is quiet as a whisper, and cracking as she struggles to contain her turbulent emotions.

“Now where did you get an idea like that?”

“Like what?”

“That I don’t see you as anything more than a friend.”

“You’ve never said anything.”

“When would I have had the chance? The timing was never right.”

“Oh.”

“Emma, I have loved you for so long, I can’t remember what it’s like not to love you. So, to clear up any possible confusion. Emma Swan, I love you.”

In lieu of a response to his declaration, Emma is on him. Her lips are sealed to his in a passionate kiss that he’d never even let himself dare to hope for. Apparently, she was going for action rather than words, but she had already said those five fateful words, and he’d thought his heart was going to burst when she had.

If we’re going the route of action then . He picks her up and though she startles to the point of exclaiming his name in an octave higher than normal, her legs wrap around his hips of their own volition.

“Do you realize how mad you drove me?” he murmured against her lips, not wanting to pull away any further than that, now that he’s been granted the pleasure of her kiss. Killian is relying fully on muscle memory to guide them back down the hall to his bedroom. “Seeing you naked on my bed, unable to touch you. And this morning, seeing you in nothing but my clothing, a man can only take so much temptation.” He presses the evidence of her torments against her as he pins her against his bedroom door.

“You’re not the only one that’s been tempted Jones.” Emma veritably moans as he grinds against her again.

“What say you, to us re-examining your outfit from last night?”

“But I wasn’t wearing anything last night.”

“Exactly.” With Emma’s giggle, Killian finishes the trek to his bed. As things are ramping up, kisses more heated, touches roaming over every expanse, a disheartening realization comes to him. “Swan, wait… wait, wait. I don’t have any condoms. I wasn’t expecting-”

“It’s ok Killian… I’m covered. I’m clean, and protected .”

“Aye?”

Emma nods bashfully at his enquiry.

“I’m clean as well, so if you’re still willing.”

“Yes, I’m willing, now get a move on Jones. I’m tired of waiting.” At the vehemence in Emma’s voice, Killian leans up off of her to remove his shirt. He notes the look on her face as his shirt clears his head, and soars across the room.

“See something you like, love?” he asks with a smirk playing on his lips. It takes her a moment to peel her eyes away from his toned chest to meet his gaze.

“Yeah.” Her voice is much breathier than normal, which causes his smirk to widen.

He helps divest her of his hoodie, and is unable to stay his thoughts “You are an absolute vision my love.” One of his new favorite things has to be the blush that creeps across Emma’s chest and face at his words of praise.

With a roll of her eyes, she deflects by saying, “Whatever you say, Romeo.”

Willing to let it be, and get back to the more urgent matter at hand, Killian gives her another kiss before pulling back, and nudging her hips so he can help her shimmy out of his boxers. When she’s completely bare he leans back up and showers Emma in kisses. He starts with her pouting lips, then works his way down her jaw, and all along the length of her neck, intent on showering every inch of her body with his affection.

“Killian-”

He can’t help but smile at the way Emma whines out his name in frustration.

Pausing his trail of kisses long enough to look up into her emerald eyes, with pupils blown wide, he asks, “Yes, my love?”

“You are still far too overdressed.”

“All in good time my love, I plan on taking my time, and taking care of you the way you deserve. I’ve been dreaming about this for far too long to rush any of it. Ladies first, then I will take you; I promise.”

“W-Wait… you’ve dreamt of this?”

Killian chuckles wickedly. “Of course I have. You are quite entrancing.”

Killian rests his chin just above her delectable quim, glancing up, he catches her eye. He wants to make sure she is alright with this, not wanting to cross a line, and risk pushing her too far too fast; the thought of pushing her away is unbearable. When Emma smiles reassuringly, he closes the distance, licking a line with the flat of his tongue from slit to clit, eliciting a moan from both of them.

“My love, you taste divine, I’ll never get enough of you,” he murmurs into her core, not wanting to stop for even a second.

Emma wiggles and jumps with the sensations of his attentions causing him to place his left hand across her belly to keep her still. Alternating between long licks, penetrating her with his tongue, and sucking on her bundle of nerves, he’s quickly driving her to the edge of pleasure. As she gets closer he uses his mouth to focus his ardor on her clit while guiding his fingers in and out of her to work her to completion.

Emma comes with a cry of his name on her lips, and he swears he’s never heard a sweeter sound.

“Still with me love?”

She hums out a pleasured sound of affirmation as he hops back off of the bed and shucks his pants. Killian then lies down beside her, playing with her hair, until she opens her eyes to look at him.

Bringing himself above her, once she has recovered, Killian’s right hand trails down her side from her pert breast to her hip, anchoring himself to her there. He slowly runs his silken steel shaft through her drenched folds, savoring the wetness as he coats himself in her essence. After teasing the both of them a few moments more he delicately pushes his throbbing cock into her tight sheath inch by delicious inch until he is completely buried in her to the hilt. Pausing to give them both a moment to adjust, he leans forward to capture her lips in a kiss to trump all kisses. He keeps his pace steady, trying not to thrust too hard, wanting to make it memorable for both of them.

Feeling his release building quicker than he’d like, he reaches down to caress her clit and whispers to her, “Come again for me Emma, I want you to come with me.” As he circles her clit faster, he feels the enticing flutter of her walls signaling her orgasm.

“Killian. Right there. I’m … I’m … OH GOD!’’

“Let go Emma, I’ll catch you. Come for me.’’ Watching as Emma falls so beautifully over the edge, he lets her take him with her. Killian murmurs her name lovingly as he spills his release inside her.

“That’s it love, that’s it.’’ He relaxes above her, momentarily forgetting he is putting all of his weight on her. Regaining his senses, he rolls off of her and pulls her to her side so they can lie facing each other to catch their breaths.

“I hope I’ve not worn you out, love. I am nowhere near finished with you yet,” he growls into her ear.

They both lose track of the hours, too wrapped up in the feel of one another to care, they spend the rest of the day in Killian’s bed.

Waking from, probably the best sleep she’s ever experienced, laying snuggled into a still sleeping Killian, Emma thinks back on the perfect and pleasurable day before. Emma finds herself wanting Killian, again .

She takes advantage of his slumber to peruse every facet of his beautiful body. Her hand starts at his cheek before skimming along his chiseled jawline. She moves to his neck, and leans down to place a gentle kiss in the hollow of his throat, then continues with both hands now, to smooth along his toned chest. She loves his thatch of chest hair as it rubs against her palms, and even more when it grazes her hardened nipples.  

He truly is a work of art, and she wonders if he’d be upset if she tasted him. She’s wanted to take him with her mouth since she’d seen him bobbing hard and proud against his stomach. Deciding she is going to treat him, Emma delicately shimmies her body down his, so as not to wake him before she wants him to.

Once she is level with his already hardened member, she licks her lips in anticipation; gently taking his generous length in hand, she extends her tongue to lick a stripe from base to tip. Killian shifts in his sleep at this, but does not wake, emboldened by her desire she opens her mouth to take him in fully. Unable to stifle the moan that crawls up her throat at the sensation of him in her mouth, Emma begins to steadily bob up and down along his length. She feels the ache in her core and knows she is wet, but this is about Killian, and his pleasure, not hers.

By the time Killian starts to stir from the sensations she’s lavishing on him, she can feel the wetness pooling and dripping down her thighs. The sound Killian makes is a mix between a moan and grunt. His hand reaches out reflexively tangling in her hair as she continues to work him over with her mouth. Voice still heavy with sleep, Killian finally speaks up, “Emma…” His voice trails off as another moan escapes his throat, and he gives a slight tug on the hair in his grip. “Love stop, or this will all be over too quickly. I’ve no wish to leave you unsatisfied.” At that Emma picks up her pace, intending to make him fall apart for her, just as she had fallen for him the day before. Any further protestations from Killian are staved off by another moan torn from his throat as he begins to spill himself down her throat. Emma tastes his release and swallows down every last drop before releasing him with a soft pop. She grins up at his sated smile like the cat that ate the canary.

After a few moments of quiet, with nothing but Killian’s labored breathing to be heard, Emma shimmies back to her place, snuggled into his side. “Well. Swan, wow. Christmas really did come early. But have no doubt, I will get you back for that.”

“I look forward to it. Best Christmas ever.” Emma hums out as she snuggles into Killian’s chest.

~ Fin ~

Walsh’s POV

Tagging some lovelies that have asked to be tagged, as well as some I believe might enjoy. Please let me know if you do, or don’t wish to be tagged. Happy reading.

@artistic-writer @captain-swan-coffee @flipperbrain @gingerchangeling @ilovemesomekillianjones @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @laschatzi @seriouslyhooked @smutqueen27 @teamhook @ultraluckycatnd @xhookswenchx @yayimallamaagain

[seriouslyhooked]

The Lady in Red

A/N: Reader requested fic for the song ‘The Lady in Red’ by Chris De Burgh. This is an AU where Emma and Killian have long been best friends but Killian has always loved Emma and was biding his time before making a move (can we tell that my muses are leading me in a similar direction lately?). He’s decided tonight is the night to tell her just as soon as this company gala they have to go to is finished. Only Emma shows up in a red dress meant for distraction and the plan goes a little off the rails. Will there be smut and an M rating to go along with all the years long pining? You know it! Anyway, hope you all enjoy and this chapter, and the rest of the mixtape collection, available on FF Here.

“Remind me again who thought it would be a good idea to throw a gala in the midst of our busiest selling season?” Killian Jones asked as he worked to get the bow tie that this tux required knotted up to satisfaction.

It wasn’t the formality of the evening that was off putting to Killian. After all this was just a step above the usual suit and tie that running a company as large as Jones & Co. required, but it was the call to his time and attention. The purpose of this evening was to bolster morale after a mightily successful year on the anniversary of the company’s founding forty years ago. Over the past few years Killian and his elder brother Liam had taken their already strong family business and brought it that much further into the 21st century. Now they were competing on a level that had seemed out of reach only a short time ago, and though Killian was proud as hell of him and his brother, he was also starting to realize that he needed more to his life than his work. He’d put too much on hold to help build up the empire, and now all he wanted was a chance to try at different segments of his world. He only hoped that the moves he was planning would be well received, since most every hope of happiness he clung too all hinged on one person – the girl he’d loved nearly half his life, who he’d foolishly never made a move on.

“That would be Elsa, sir,” Killian’s assistant, Belle, replied as she scanned her iPad, no doubt handling any and all last minute emergencies that might be headed his way. Thank God for Belle. Lord only knew where he would be without her.

“Ah, right. Well in that case there was never any chance of avoiding this, was there? Once Elsa has an idea, Liam will stop at nothing to make it so.”

“True,” Belle agreed as she flicked her gaze up and smiled thoughtfully. “But I bet she’d prefer that he just man up and ask her out already.”

Killian laughed heartily at that, shaking his head at Belle though he knew she was dead on with that analysis. Liam, brilliant and bright as he was, was somehow even less given to emotional risk taking than Killian, and if Killian was a slow mover then Liam was glacier-like in his pacing. It didn’t matter that Elsa, their company’s head of marketing, was clearly and obviously in love with him. Liam was so wrapped up in his own silent pining he never could seem to read the signs and take the plunge.

“He’ll get there…” Killian stated evenly before qualifying that statement. “Eventually.”

Belle muttered something to herself that Killian didn’t fully hear, but that sounded like this familial quirk of theirs was starting to get old. He scratched behind his ear at the comment, knowing that in his case it was right too. Try as he might to conceal his true feelings for the woman in his life, Killian knew his assistant, and damn near everyone else, could tell the way he felt. He might not be as bad as Liam, but he was nearly there, and since he hadn’t told anyone of his intention to finally confess how he felt this evening, he probably seemed just as hopeless a case as his brother.

“Well, I think we best be off then. No need to face a scolding about punctuality again, especially since Liam’s rented out space in this very building. Can you imagine his horror at our tardiness, Belle?” Killian feigned a shiver as he took a final look in the mirror that lined the inside of one of the cabinets in his office. He looked sharp as he could given a twelve-hour workday, he expected, and that would just have to be good enough.

“I think it’s best we all avoid thoughts like that. But there’s one thing before you go, sir,” Belle said as Killian turned his attention to gathering the last of his things, knowing that in just a few moments his date – his love – would be arriving and the rest of his life would be just at the horizon.

“Whatever it is can wait until tomorrow, can’t it?” Killian teased, assuming there was nothing truly daunting heading their way.

“It’s about Emma,” Belle offered and immediately Killian stopped. Emma Nolan, his best friend, and the woman he also happened to be madly in love with, was always the exception to every rule, and whatever Belle was about to say, Killian was suddenly desperate to hear it. Thoughts of the gala were long gone, though the one thing that had made the whole idea bearable was that she’d be coming tonight and he’d have his chance to tell her how he felt.

“Emma? Is she all right?” Killian asked, panic shooting through him until Belle nodded.

“Yes, she’s totally fine,” Belle said quickly, helping Killian to breathe again. “She’s just running a little late. She got held up in court and she said to meet her down there. Actually her exact words were ‘he can brave the stuffed shirts for ten minutes without me and I promise I’ll make it up to him.’”

Killian laughed aloud at that, knowing that was exactly Emma’s way. It didn’t matter that she was pretty much New York royalty given her parent’s wealth and pedigree. Emma never cared for any formal affairs where there was schmoozing or undue flattery of any kind. She tolerated it, and damn did she play the role of high society princess perfectly when she had to, but the real Emma was so much more than most people could fathom. She was raw and real and adventurous, and her life had bigger dreams and ambitions than the tiny bubble of Manhattan wealth could imagine.

“Let me guess, she won the case didn’t she?” Killian asked, hearing the pride and amusement in his voice as he did and now it was Belle’s turn to laugh aloud at the stupid question.

“Well of course she won. She’s not just any old public defender – she’s the best damn public defender in the city!”

Killian grinned at that, knowing that Belle’s praise had been hard earned on Emma’s part. Perhaps there were not means of scientifically measuring who could be ‘best,’ but of one thing Killian was certain: there was no other lawyer out there who cared so much for her clients as Emma. She gave her heart in every trial, taking on the cases that often seemed hopeless but that were the most worth fighting. It was grueling work, but never had Killian heard Emma complain about how much had to be done. She simply charged forward, carrying not only the weight of her world on her shoulders, but the hopes and dreams of the people she was charged to help and their families. That was not a role that Emma took on lightly, and her unwillingness to ever give up on an innocent person in a bad situation had earned her the nickname of ‘savior’ in certain circles. To Killian the name wasn’t hard to accept by any means. After all, Emma had been his savior since they were only children.

It had been years since the fateful day when Killian and Emma first crossed paths. He’d just relocated to America, with him and Liam being taken in by their long estranged uncle after the passing of their Mum. Technically Killian’s father was alive enough to fulfill state requirements, but he’d never had any interest in being a caretaker and Killian and Liam had never had any love for the man who let them down at every turn. Their uncle, though not particularly warm, had been a vast improvement to their father and he’d sent Liam and Killian to finish up school at one of the best private prep academies in the city. It was there that Killian had met Emma, and he’d forever be grateful for her immediate kindness, charming sense of humor, and vibrant wit that made his first day and every day thereafter bearable. In what should have been some of the darkest times of his life, after losing his mother and the home he’d always known, Killian had found a light to rival the sun, and that light had never faded in all the years he’d had Emma in his life.

It was hard to pinpoint at what point the love of a friend had shifted to more, it was such a gradual process that it felt that he had always been in love with her, but the past few years his true feelings became inescapable. Killian had had a few casual relationships in his life, women who filled a role when Emma had suitors of her own, but a day had come when Killian realized they would never be enough. Perhaps he wasn’t ready to give Emma all that she deserved, and he was honestly terrified that this love was one sided and would not be returned in the same way, but he wouldn’t be dating anymore. Indulging in anything that wasn’t the magic he knew was possible with Emma seemed a betrayal to the woman he loved, and so Killian had sworn off dating until he’d reached the goals that he and Liam had put in place for the company. That choice had made for a sharply improved work ethic, but it had also been lonely. The only consolation was that Emma hadn’t had anyone serious in her life either, but now all Killian could think was that he was wasting precious time.  Maybe she would reject him, but if there was even a chance that she wouldn’t Killian didn’t want any more days to pass where he didn’t get to be as open and honest about how he felt with Emma as he could.

These hopes for what could be with Emma were a near constant in Killian’s life now, and they stuck with him as he made his way to the ballroom downstairs and greeted his brother. He began the routine of shaking the right hands and thanking the right people, but time was dragging and his mind was elsewhere. Until Emma got here, Killian would feel uneasy but even when she arrived Killian knew that anxiety would linger. It wasn’t every day that a man went up to his best friend and told her that he loved her and this would change everything. For better or worse the truth would be out there once their commitments this evening were fulfilled and Killian could only hope that Emma would accept his heart and his love now that he was brave enough to give it.

“You sure everything’s all right, Killian?” Liam asked him at one point and Killian turned to his brother, knowing his agitation must be far clearer than he anticipated.

“Aye. Or rather it will be, at least I hope.”

“This wouldn’t have to do with a certain blonde savior you’ve always been mad for, would it?” Killian raised a brow in quiet questioning and Liam only smiled before nodding across the room. “Because she’s here you know. Just walking in now.”

There were moments in life that Killian would always remember – the highs, the lows, the truly out of the ordinary – but this one right here topped them all. Seeing Emma for the first time across the ballroom tonight felt like it had always been meant to happen. All this time spent grappling with his feelings about what he wanted and what Emma deserved were dropped away now, and all that remained was an intense rush of love and appreciation for the woman he adored more than anything the world over.

Gorgeous on any day and in any state, Emma was truly a vision this evening. Her long blonde hair flowed in delicate waves, casting that golden hue in the light. It was almost too pure a sight, matched only by her eyes and the gleam of excitement in the green depths that Killian could see from here, but that was the purity ended. Because right now Emma was donning a dress that had one purpose and one purpose alone – to bring Killian to his knees and have him cursing himself for not already having her in his arms right now. A scarlet red color, the floor length gown hugged every curve of Emma’s lithe curves just right, and yet the sexiest part of all of it was that Emma knew from the look on her face aimed right his way that she was the most beautiful woman in the room. The confidence of her smirk and the challenge in her expression was the final straw and the next thing Killian knew he was in motion, making his way across the room as Emma did the same. There was only one problem – it appeared that Killian wasn’t the only one who had his sights set on Emma, and before Killian could get to her, another hand reached out to stop her.

“Not fucking likely,” Killian growled out loud enough to startle the couple next to him dancing, but Killian didn’t stop moving, and though Emma made eye contact with Walsh, a smarmy but still financially desirable client of Jones & Co., she quickly removed her hand from his and looked back to Killian where her gaze remained. By then Killian was only steps away from her, but it wasn’t near enough to avoid giving Walsh a chance to speak.

“A pretty lady like yourself shouldn’t be here all alone. Why don’t we head back to my place and -,”

Whatever ridiculous and unacceptable solicitation Walsh was about to offer to Emma, Killian wasn’t about to hear it, and instinct told him that he couldn’t wait any more. Maybe it would be more proper to say something first, but what was there left to say that he couldn’t show her right now. As soon as Emma was within arms reach he pulled her into him, feeling her body flush against his and the way she went from initially startled to immediately relaxed. Her face began to flush, her eyes searched his with question and a mix of something that looked a lot like hope, and then she licked those tormentingly tempting lips of hers and he was lost. He dipped in to kiss her, a kiss years and years in the making, and the spark that was unleashed was instantaneous. Doubt could no longer linger in the face of such a kiss, not when Emma met him stroke for stroke and arched just as closely into him as he did with her.

For a span of time that Killian couldn’t comprehend everything around them slipped away, and a wave of blindingly bright sensation came rushing in. The high of it was dizzying, intoxicating, and addicting and pulling away from Emma and the kiss was too hard to do. The only way Killian could bare to do it was because he knew before they had so much as said a word that Emma felt this too. There was no faking that kind of reaction, and as much as Killian needed this, Emma had needed it too. That filled him with a sense of pride and honor and when they did break apart, Killian couldn’t keep the giant grin from appearing on his face.

“You just kissed me,” Emma said dazedly, her voice filled with a total sense of astonishment as her fingertips came to touch her lips gently. “Wow I can’t believe it actually worked.”

“Worked?” Killian asked confused and then Emma giggled in that way that was all too rare now but still was the sweetest thing Killian had ever heard. She’d been more prone to it when they were younger, but whenever that laugh came it signaled Emma was filled with a real and tangible sense of happiness. To know he had given her that meant the world to him, and he yearned to hear it over and over again.

“Yeah, um, I’ve kind of wanted you to do that forever now, and Ruby said when in doubt wear red so…”

Killian ran his thumb across the corner of Emma’s mouth, wanting so badly to kiss her again but holding back since they were still very much in the middle of a business event and being watched no doubt by everyone they cared about. Even with the audience though Killian didn’t know if he could hold off for long. It felt like a dam had broken free and now all of the feelings he had been tucking away had to come out. He had to make Emma see the truth of what he felt for her, but being here right now was hardly suitable for the kind of moment that they should have.

“Forever is a long time, love. You know all you had to do was ask,” he said, pulling an eye roll from Emma even as her hand ran over his chest and rested just above his heart.

“And what about you, Jones? That kiss didn’t just come out of nowhere.”

“No it didn’t,” Killian admitted before taking a look around the room and seeing that yes, everyone was paying too close attention to them. As a response he took Emma’s hand in his and asked her a question he already knew the answer to. “Do you trust me, love?”

“Always,” Emma promised, and with a quick kiss to her palm Killian led them out of the ballroom and to the elevators.

Emma looked surprised when he chose to head back up to his office instead of down to the garages below, but truth was Killian needed guaranteed privacy and he didn’t think he could wait to get her home. Emma seemed to understand though when he silently tried to tell her that with a look, and the softness in her eyes coupled with the brief kiss she placed to the corner of his mouth set him alight. Gods this was perfect – she was perfect – and Killian just had to try and figure out a way to make him seem even half as good a candidate for love as Emma was for him.

“Think anyone is still up here?” Emma asked, her voice a silky whisper as her hand remained in his and Killian led her to his office across the way.

“No. Liam’s orders. Everyone was to attend the party. Night staff too.”

“Hmm a whole office to ourselves. Whatever shall we do?” Emma teased and Killian chuckled too as he pulled her inside his office and locked the door behind him.

“That remains to be seen, love. First I have to say something I should have said a long time ago.”

“You love me,” Emma filled in with a smirk and Killian’s jaw dropped for a moment before he regained some composure. He ran a hand through his hair as the other held onto Emma’s hip.

“Aye. You knew?”

“Not for certain,” Emma said as she shook her head. “But I hoped you did. And then that kiss… well that kiss told me everything I need to know.”

“Did it tell you about the part where I intend to marry you and spend my whole life trying to deserve you?” Killian asked, taking this about a dozen steps further than he ever intended to, but he was so pleasantly thrown off from Emma’s understanding him that he couldn’t seem to care. Her smile never waivered even as the surprise registered on her face at his bold words.

“Not quite, but I think that can be arranged. After you take me on a ‘proper date’ of course,” she said making a mockery of his lingering accent as her hands came to untie the bow he was wearing with deft precision.

“Of course. God I love you, Emma,” he said as his hands ran across her body and Emma pressed a kiss to his lips lightly before whispering the sweetest words he’d ever heard.

“I love you too, Killian. So let’s not wait anymore, okay? We’re ready now.”

He’d never agreed with anything more, and though a part of him reasoned somewhere in the far reaches of his mind that he should slow this down and make this first time with Emma more romantic, it wasn’t to be. Putting off how they felt for this long had broken down his resolve and it had clearly done the same for Emma as she worked to unbutton his shirt as quickly as she could even as she pulled him close to kiss him. Killian was ready to do much of the same, starting with figuring how this damned enticement of a dress came apart, but before he could maneuver it off of her Emma took a step back and smiled at him, a look of challenge in her jade colored eyes that set his already heated system that much more into a frenzy.

“You know I’ve thought about the two of us in this office a lot over the past few years…” Emma said as she came around to sit on the edge of his desk playfully. Killian’s hands balled into fists in an attempt to keep him grounded even as he moved towards her. It seemed Emma wanted to tease this out a little, and hard as it was to keep from shoving everything on his desk aside right now and taking her, he’d indulge her. Hell, he’d give her anything her heart could ever want so long as she was his.

“That makes two of us, love. All those lunches we shared here, I always had other ideas about what should be on the menu,” he said, boxing her in and nipping lightly at a spot just under her ear that made her shiver as her hands came up to run over him.

“Show me,” Emma whispered and that plea was enough to have Killian in motion. It was his clearance to take the reins, and now that he was leading the charge, the only thought in his mind was to see Emma satisfied. The only question was how to go about it. The setting called for something fast, a stolen moment floors above a party that the two of them should really be at, but this first time Killian needed something like slow and languid. He wanted Emma to know after this that he was the right choice for her to build a life with, and that required a certain level of demonstration of his ability to make her taste the bliss she was always offering him.

He started with another heated kiss as his hands roamed over her body, and after finding the zipper at her back, he eased it down just enough to let the sleeves slip off, revealing her full, pert breasts to his gaze. What he wouldn’t give to strip her of the garment all together, but that would have to wait until tonight when he had her in his bed. And he would have her; that was a guarantee. Despite her want for dates and a courtship, which he would certainly grant her, Killian had no intention of spending another night away from Emma. He’d convince her right now that she wanted the same thing, and he knew it wouldn’t be difficult to do when his mouth trailed kisses down to nip and suck her in this most sensitive place.

At the same time that his mouth and fingers teased Emma’s breasts his other hand wandered south, pushing through the slit of material the dress provided until his fingers traced the edge of the lace that kept him from her sex. She was wet already, so riled up that Killian couldn’t help but growl, and the distraction of Emma’s desire demanded he kneel before her, clearing the material from his view of her and inhaling her sweet scent as his mouth watered. How long had he wanted this? How long had he dreamed of scenes just like this with Emma trusting him and giving herself so willingly to him like this? He didn’t know, but the reality of having Emma in his clutch was more intoxicating than all the fantasies he’d allowed himself over the years. It was also more vivid and real than anything his mind could ever conjure, and at the look of need and love and lust in Emma’s eyes Killian was spurred on to taste her slick flesh and pleasure her further.

“Killian!”

Emma’s cry of his name was loud, louder than their location should have allowed, but hell if Killian cared. He wouldn’t give a damn if the whole bloody place heard Emma’s moan of ecstasy. Let them all know that he had done this, that he could please such a spectacular woman, but in the back of his mind Killian remembered that no one was here, and that at least for tonight he and Emma could indulge in such heated displays. The thought only fueled him further, and when Emma was at her peak and falling over Killian didn’t let up, only giving her just enough time to come down from her high before riling her up again and demanding she give him another release. When she had Killian debated demanding another, but her earnest plea that he take her erased that idea. Seconds later he was up and releasing his impossibly hard length, anticipating easy access but finding his love intent on some teasing of her own. Her hand gripped him with just the right tightness, and the softness of her skin had Killian hissing out a breath.

“Fuck, Emma. If I promise you can have your way with me when we get home, will you show mercy?”

Emma grinned at that before nodding and pulling him closer and then he thrust inside her and the immediate sensation shocked his system so completely it felt like every nerve was sensing the realest kind of pleasure. To say that sex had never felt this way was unnecessary; this was clearly earth shattering and Killian could tell from Emma’s expression and the flush on her skin that it was just the same for her. The unyielding spark and crackle of the chemistry between them kept them hot and on edge as they came together over and over again, and only when Killian thought he couldn’t take a second more without coming Emma begged him to fall with her and he did.

“That was…” Killian began, not having words to articulate just how amazing how that had been.

“Just the beginning,” Emma said happily as her hand cupped his cheek.

“Aye, love. Just the beginning.”

And the beautiful thing was that beginning grew into something so much more. Killian and Emma ended up getting everything they wanted, and after all that waiting the life they built proved more beautiful and more magical than either of them could have ever dreamed.

…………

I've never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight I've never seen you shine so bright I've never seen so many men ask you if you wanted to dance They're looking for a little romance, given half a chance And I have never seen that dress you're wearing Or the highlights in your hair that catch your eyes I have been blind The lady in red is dancing with me, cheek to cheek There's nobody here, it's just you and me It's where I want to be But I hardly know this beauty by my side I'll never forget the way you look tonight I've never seen you looking so gorgeous as you did tonight I've never seen you shine so bright, you were amazing I've never seen so many people want to be there by your side And when you turned to me and smiled, it took my breath away And I have never had such a feeling Such a feeling of complete and utter love, as I do tonight The lady in red is dancing with me, cheek to cheek There's nobody here, it's just you and me It's where I want to be But I hardly know this beauty by my side I'll never forget the way you look tonight I never will forget the way you look tonight The lady in red, the lady in red The lady in red, my lady in red I love you

Post-Note: So it’s been quite some time since my lovely reader, @kmomof4 , asked for this chapter, and FINALLY getting it out there makes me a happy camper. Because I have started a new multi-chapter story, there will also be some more delays in my mixtape chapters for a while. But not to worry! I have a few written already and planned to be posted this semester so I hopefully shouldn’t have the same huge writing gaps I did this fall. Anyway, hope that you all enjoyed the smut and fluff and thanks to all of you who send me love for every chapter and who send your prompts and song requests my way. You are all awesome and I am wishing you a lovely rest of your weekend. Thanks again!!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103,Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158,Part 159, Part 160, Part 161, Part 162, Part 163, Part 164,Part 165, Part 166, Part 167, Part 168, Part 169, Part 170

[thedreamingreaper]

One year anniversary

Today marks the first anniversary of Final Fantasy XV.

I’m already starting my second playthrough of the game to commemorate. Even though I got work in about what a few hours?

I want to start off with a little story time. During my freshman year of high school I was currently playing Final Fantasy XIII, I don’t remember how long it took me to complete the game but it was nonetheless amazing. After having post-game feels, I went on the internet to see if Square Enix had any plans for another game. I can’t remember much, specifically, but I DO remember going on Youtube watching the FFXIII trailers. So while the trailer was playing in the background something caught my eye. “Final Fantasy Versus XIII” Mhmmm this is different. Versus XIII?? Oooo is this a sequel???? I clicked on the video, waiting for it to load cause my internet back then was CRAAAPPP. Anywho, the video starts with a black screen and a small quote that resides on my blog, “This is a fantasy based on reality“. Then transitions to a tunnel with a (nice) car, cut to the inside.

(!!!) LOOK AT HIM, LOOK AT FREAKING BADASS NOCTIS!!! SWEET BABY JESUS. When I saw him my fucking heart leapt in my chest. The first piece of music that played during this trailer was “OMNIS LACRIMA” and holy crap I got goosebumps. Though when Final Fantasy XV released I was hoping and praying that Omnis Lacrima would make itself known in the game and surprise surprise IT WAS! Back to the trailer, our heroine Stella Nox Fleuret appeared. At first, I was like ugh really? But I grew to like her so much that I drew her.

Yeah please excuse this, it an old drawing. But she seemed badass. Noctis walking down the stairway to a small fleet of soldiers firing bullets and he just nonchalant continues while invisible weapons protects him. THEN THEN MY MOST FAVORITE MOMENT EVER.

HIS EYES TURNED FUCKING RED. (Now that I think about it I think this is where my eye kink for Noctis started) I SHIVERED. OOOHHH MANNN. Cut to the doors opening to the room where they signed that peace treaty in Kingsglaive and the camera does an overhead shot of people at the table. INSTANT YAKUZA VIBES. The fighting scenes in this were much more brutal then the previous ff games I played before with the introduction of blood and breaking of limbs. I LIKED IT. 

VERSUS!Chocobros how much they changed <3 BUT OHHH MAN Noctis in a freaking suit near the end Ohhh my lord. ALSO ITS FREAKING GROWN UP SASUKE!!! I’m sorry this was ALSO the same time I was introduced to Naruto. Then it ends with “There is nothing good or bad but thinking makes it so“- William Shakespear. Only on Playstation 3 Worldwide...

....Okay SO I MIGHT’VE re-watched the trailer as I was typing this, but still this was a start to something so amazing.

Years went by, I every so often checked on the status on Final Fantasy Versus XIII. Looking to see if Square was gonna do something with this. I wanted this to be a game that I could play. Pastry school 2015, my first quarter, I was having a final that day. Why do I mention this? I checked my Tumblr out of the blue and what do I find on my feed THAT FINAL FANTASY VERSUS XIII WAS TO BE THE 15TH GAME!! COMMENCE THE SCREAMING and Final Fantasy VII Remake!!!! SWEET JESUS!!! 2015-2016 I went on Youtube and any other websites for updates. Watching the Japanese trailers of FFXV I was ecstatic! Though something in me was getting the vibes that this was going to be a sad yet amazing game. I was surprised that they chose “Stand By Me“ and honestly it was quite fitting. The way Florence sang it and how it was arranged, brought tears to my eyes.

When the game was available probably mid- 2016? I immediately pre-ordered it at Gamestop. I was hyped! Around early 2016 I was playing Final Fantasy Type-0 and in it was a code for the FFXV demo Episode Duscae.

Uploaded it on my PS4 and then the magic happened. The graphics, the environment, the music was SO. FUCKING. P R E T T Y. But I can’t forget the most important thing, what the bros sounded like. When I first heard them with my ears I swear that I heard four beautiful unicorns. I SCREAMED that could rival a banshee. OH SWEET JESUS. I just about DIED. After going through that I then later found out there was another demo thanks to TeamFourStar, the Platinum Demo.

By then I was counting down the months, the days , the hours, the minutes until the game would be in my hands. October 27th Square releases The Omen trailer oh my god I was in the process of giving my soul to EVERY being that it was soo close. To prepare myself for the release date I bought the Kingsglaive movie along with the Brotherhood anime. November comes, Thanksgiving and Black Friday came and went. Then 29th. The game is released. I never thought that this was happening. Opened the case, popped it in and started a journey with four people.

I just- what can I say. The story of a prince traveling with his friends to his fiance for a wedding. Only to find out that his kingdom has been attacked and the Crystal taken. Playing this isn’t like any other game that I played before. I got to know each character. What their story was. The relationship they had. I laughed, I cried, I seeked vengence for a fallen loved one, and I cried my soul. Everything that they went through, I felt. I knew that this game would break me and it did. What turned out to be a simple roadtrip ended with a lifelong adventure. All four of the Chocobros I can identify with each of them. Prompto, he is my inspiration. He struggled with losing weight and fitting in with everyone yet maintained a positive attitude. Ignis, his love of cooking and taking care of everyone. Gladio, the protective nature that he has. Finally Noctis, he’s shy, insecure, but playful, sassy, goofy and just all-round human.

I played this since December to mid January. I was so so sad when I got to the end. I didn’t want this to end. I grew too attached. I cried so many tears when the credits rolled. The day after I finished the game I cried all morning. I didn’t know what to do with myself.

But it has lead me to so many new things.

The discovery of LoudAnnoying, fanfics, DLCs for the game, and a new friend, I wouldn’t trade any of that for the world. Would I do it again for a second playthrough? Yes, yes I would. Final Fantasy XV is my number video game. Waiting ten years for this was worth every second of it. And you know the sad thing is? There will be no other game to match this. No other that I don’t feel attached to.

So as I started my second playthrough I know that all those feelings will come back with full force.

[lastbluetardis]

And Baby Makes Three (6/6)

And here we are, at the end of Ainsley’s section of this series! There will be a short epilogue that I’ll post probably tomorrow.

This was beta-ed by the incomparable @chocolatequeennk. Thank you!!

Ten x Rose, Soulmates AU, NSFW (most of this chapter is nsfw, as James and Rose celebrate their anniversary).

With the decision to try for a baby made, James and Rose eagerly look forward to this newest chapter of their lives.

AO3 | TSP | FF | Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Epilogue

James and Rose spent the next week decorating their house for Christmas, which they had decided to host alongside Robert and Jackie. When the decision had first been made a few weeks before Ainsley’s birth, James and Rose had wanted to be in a familiar environment, both for themselves and for their baby, and they hadn’t wanted to make the long journey to Scotland with a baby they thought would be barely a week old.

Jackie and Robert arrived at the house on Christmas Eve morning to help finish decorating, begin the meal preparations, and dote on their growing granddaughter.

“Want to show Gran and Grandad what you learned to do, sweetheart?” Rose cooed when they first arrived.

Ainsley rewarded them with a beaming smile, and an enthusiastic flailing of her arms.

“Oh, how beautiful!” Robert praised, tickling the bottom of her feet. “So gorgeous, sweetheart!”

“Yeah, she is, isn’t she?” James said proudly from where he was standing on a chair to put the star atop the tree.

Christmas day found their house bustling with people as family members arrived for Christmas dinner. While it was exhausting to entertain so many people and keep a six-week old baby happy, James and Rose delighted in being able to show off their daughter and introduce her to their family.

“So precious!” James’s grandmother said as Ainsley smiled her way around the room, contentedly tucked away in her father’s arms. “Can I hold her?”

James nodded and passed her off, before he wandered back into the kitchen to check on dinner.

“Where’s Ainsley?” Rose asked as she sampled a bit of the turkey that was ready to be carved.

“Ainsley?” he asked, feigning ignorance. “Who’s Ainsley?”

Rose smirked and rolled her eyes.

“Oh, you mean the gorgeous baby everyone is cooing over? I left her with my grandmum.”

“She really has everyone falling in love with her, doesn’t she?” Rose said, peeking into the living room as grown adults crowded around their baby and babbled nonsense at her.

“’Course! She’s the most loveable human in the universe!” he exclaimed proudly. “Just like her mum.”

James wrapped his arm around Rose’s waist and pressed a firm kiss to the side of her head.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Always,” he said, grabbing a fresh bottle of wine from the fridge.

“Are your dad’s parents still around?” she asked. “It’s just… I’ve never seen them, or even heard of them. And I’ve never been able to bring myself to ask.”

James sighed and scrubbed at the back of his neck.

“His mum died when he was just a baby,” James said. “And his dad… Well, let’s just say he was a product of his era and his parents. He drank a lot and wasn’t a very pleasant man to my dad. Dad left as soon as he turned eighteen. Moved into my mum’s parents’ basement, actually. They cheated with the whole “no meeting your soulmate ‘til you’re eighteen” rule. But Mum was only ten months younger than Dad, so no one really said anything.”

“I’m sorry,” Rose said, feeling her heart break for Robert.

“Yeah,” James said. “But Mum’s family adopted him like one of their own. He hasn’t heard from his dad since, and I don’t think that really bothers him.”

Rose nodded and glanced into the living room where Robert was on the floor on his belly, mirroring Ainsley’s position as she practiced lifting her head up. It flopped to the ground after a few seconds, but even her small victory earned her an enthusiastic round of applause.

Later that evening after dinner and dessert and gift-giving—wherein everyone brought mostly things for Ainsley—Robert and James retreated to the kitchen to clean up from the meal.

“That went well,” James said, rinsing the dishes before loading them into the dishwasher. “As well as can be expected with a young baby.”

“Ainsley did great,” Robert agreed. “And so did Rose.”

James smiled softly, having just left his wife napping on the sofa, exhausted from the day’s events.

“So,” Robert said, “your anniversary is coming up. Any plans?”

James turned to face his dad and smirked. “You angling for a babysitting job?”

“You know I love that little girl to death,” Robert said, shrugging. “So, yeah, I wouldn’t mind keeping her overnight if you and Rose want a proper date night or something for your anniversary.”

“That’d be brilliant, actually,” James said. “Though I need to talk to Rose and see if she’d want to be away from Ainsley for an entire night. I’ll let you know, but one way or another, it’d be brilliant if you could keep Ainsley for a bit on the thirtieth.”

oOoOo

“You look stunning,” James breathed as he stepped into their en suite as Rose was touching up her makeup. They’d taken Robert up on his offer to babysit Ainsley overnight, and James had made reservations at one of their favorite date night restaurants, one they hadn’t visited in months. “So stunning.”

Rose beamed at him through the mirror as she capped her mascara and fixed her hair.

“Might I interest you in a pair of earrings?” James murmured, stepping up behind her and opening a velvet box. “You picked a perfect dress for these.”

Rose eagerly spun around and opened up the box, revealing a pair of drop earrings. Two diamonds led the way to the main ruby gemstone, and Rose delighted that the earrings would match perfectly to the deep burgundy gown she had donned for the evening.

“James, you spoil me,” Rose said breathlessly as she put on the earrings.

“It gives me such pleasure to do so, my love,” he murmured into her ear, and the gravelly tone of his voice and his warm breath made her shiver. “Come on. Don’t want to miss our reservation.”

“But I haven’t given you your gift yet,” Rose protested.

“Is it something I can use or wear at dinner?” he asked. At her negative shake of her head, he said, “Then you can give it to me when we get home. That all right?”

At her nod, he took her hand, led her to their car, and drove them into town for dinner.

For it being the end of December, the night air was refreshingly cold rather than unbearably bitter, and they didn’t mind the short walk from the carpark into the restaurant.

“Ah, so lovely!”

Rose turned and saw a late middle-aged man walking towards them.

“My youngest is pregnant with her first. When are you due?” the man said before he touched his hand to Rose’s belly.

“Oi!” Rose batted his hand away as James tightened his hold around her waist. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I had my baby seven weeks ago!”

The man had the decency to look embarrassed as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“My apologies. I didn’t realize…”

“You know, even if she was still pregnant, that doesn’t give you the right to just come up and touch her,” James snarled. “Her body is her own.”

“Let’s just go inside, James,” Rose murmured, stroking her hand along his arm. “Come on.”

James huffed out an angry breath, but turned away from the flustered-looking man and the passers-by who had stopped to see what the raised voices were about.

“What a wanker,” he growled, leading Rose to their table. He helped her out of her coat and into her chair before plopping into the seat across the table.

“Yeah, he was,” Rose said simply, reaching out and taking her husband’s hand. “But forget about him. This night is about us, yeah?”

His face softened, and he smiled and brought her hand to his lips for a kiss.

They spent the rest of their evening enjoying each other’s company without having to worry about being interrupted by a baby. It had been too long since they’d simply reveled in being alone together, and while they missed Ainsley, and sent Robert several check-in texts—to which he always replied with a photo of their daughter—they appreciated being able to celebrate their anniversary in peace.

After dinner, dessert, and dancing, they returned home, warm from the good food and wine they’d drunk, and with the anticipation of what was to come. With Rose cleared by her doctor to resume sexual intercourse, there had been an underlying buzz of excitement and arousal all evening, spurred on by the teasing touches and smiles they gave each other throughout dinner.

When Rose had tugged him in for a sensual kiss on the dance floor, scraping her nails through his hair and teasing his bottom lip between her teeth, it was all James could do to not drag her to the loo and shag her against the wall. Only the desire to make sweet and tender love to his wife all night long had kept him sane as she seemingly tried to unravel him, and he had hastily ushered her out of the restaurant and to their car, barely remembering to pay for their meal before they left.

She hadn’t been much better in the car, and her wandering hands and flirty glances had him aching with need by the time he pulled into their driveway. The cold night air cleared his head enough to be able to get them inside the house before he pounced.

He pinned her against the front door and pressed every inch of himself against her, letting her feel how much he wanted her, as though his hungry kisses weren’t evidence enough.

“Shall we at least get to the bedroom?” Rose murmured as he unfastened her coat and slipped his hands around to her back before dropping them to her bum.

“Why?” he asked, rocking against her as he caught her lips in short, hard kisses. “No one here but us. Feels so good. Bedroom’s so far away.”

Rose hummed lowly in agreement, but she didn’t fancy their first real shag after three months of celibacy to be against their front door.

“Please, James? Please take me to bed.”

James groaned, never being able to resist her when she said “please” like that. He rested his forehead against hers and took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself before he stepped away from her. He shrugged out of his own coat and took Rose’s to hang them up by the door, before he took her hand and guided her down the hall to their bedroom.

They toed off their shoes and as Rose reached back to undo the zip of her dress, James grabbed her hands and moved them away.

“Let me,” he pleaded softly.

Rose’s breath hitched at the lust burning in his eyes, and she swallowed against her suddenly dry mouth as she spun away from him. Goosebumps broke out across her skin as he let his fingertips brush across her bare shoulders before walking their way to her zipper.

He inched the zipper down tooth by tooth, before he slipped his hand between the fabric and her skin and helped it fall to the floor. Rose stepped out of the dress, and watched James carefully put it back in their closet.

“It’s a beautiful dress,” he explained when he saw her smirk. “It’d be a shame for it to get all wrinkly.”

He then stepped towards her and reached around as though to remove her bra, but Rose stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“My turn,” she said simply when his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “There’s a severely unfair clothing deficit in this bedroom.”

“Well, by all means, please level the playing field.”

Rose reached up and slowly unknotted his tie, letting the dark navy silk slip between her fingers.

“Always love undressing you,” Rose admitted as she pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders. “S’like unwrapping a present.”

“Yeah?” James asked, his eyes fluttering shut as Rose slipped her fingers under the waistband of his trousers to untuck his shirt.

“You haven’t noticed?” Rose teased, letting her fingers slowly slip all of his buttons from their holes.

“Well, yeah, but it’s still… Even after all this time, it feels nice that this part of our relationship hasn’t changed,” he admitted, a faint pink blush staining his cheeks. “Making love… It always feels as special and intense as our first night together. At least for me, it does.”

“For me, too,” Rose assured, lifting up on her toes to peck a kiss to his lips.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close to him as he deepened the kiss, letting his tongue tease its way around the inside of her mouth. He knew exactly where to dance his tongue to pull a delicious shudder from her, and he used her distraction to unclasp her bra and tug it free.

“Oi!” Rose rasped, her lips red and kiss swollen. “Cheater!”

“Can you blame me?” James asked with an impish grin.

“Incorrigible, you are.” But she was laughing and still undressing him, so James let his lips continue tasting and exploring his wife.

He squeaked and bit her neck in surprise when Rose popped the button of his trousers and immediately stuck her hand into his pants to stroke him.

“Sorry,” he murmured, pressing a delicate kiss to the teeth marks he’d left on her skin. “Surprised me, is all. Eager minx.”

“Glad I can still surprise you,” Rose said, slowly stroking him to full hardness within the confines of his pants.

“Oh, love, you surprise me every day,” he said, resting his hands on her hips as he rocked into her touch.

Rose continued teasing his erection as she one-handedly worked his trousers down his legs, and James helpfully stepped out of them.

“Leave it,” he said when she made to pick up the pile of clothes.

“They’ll wrinkle,” she protested.

“Nothing a good startching and ironing can’t fix,” he growled, tugging her firmly against him. “I’m in the middle of making love to my wife.”

“You’re in the middle of combusting your wife from sexual frustration,” Rose corrected, resting her hands on his shoulders for balance as she wrapped a thigh around his hips to grind herself into his erection.

He groaned deep in his throat and clutched at her hips to help them move as he dropped his mouth to the join of her neck and shoulder. He smirked against her skin as she shivered in his arms and dug her nails into his skin, moaning in pleasure.

“Let’s get in bed,” James suggested. His legs were shaking as he was consumed by his arousal and his need to be inside Rose. “Before I make a mess of my pants and our evening.”

“Oh, I know you better than that, James,” Rose purred, continuing to rub against him. “You’d be ready to go again in no time.”

A thrill of pride and self-satisfaction shot through him, but he still tapped her thigh to get her to drop her foot back to the floor.

“Be that as it may, I want to properly make love with you,” he said. “Please, Rose. I really want to be inside you.”

She sighed, and reluctantly stepped away from him to walk to their bed. Even through their pants, she’d worked herself into quite a state, and she was impatient for him to continue touching her. She slipped off her knickers as she saw James working the elastic of his boxers over his erection, and she playfully tossed them at James, giggling when they hit him square in the jaw.

“Nice aim,” he said dryly, crawling onto the bed with her. “Nine out of ten.”

“Only a nine?” she squawked.

“Mhm.” He pressed long, sucking kisses to her legs as he worked his way up her body. “Would’ve been a ten if you’d centered it around my nose.” He scraped his teeth across the soft skin of her inner thigh before laving his tongue across the seam of her hip and thigh. “You smell so good, love.”

Rose shuddered in desire as he pressed kisses to her labia before inhaling deeply. That once would have made her blush and squirm in embarrassment, but now it only made her wetter and desperate to feel him inside her.

“Get up here,” she croaked, sitting up so she could tug on his shoulders.

“Aww, do I have to?” he whined, but he dutifully kneeled between her legs.

“Yep. You’re being a bloody tease.”

She smacked him lightly when he hummed happily. How could he look so put together when she felt like she might implode if she didn’t get him inside her in the next two minutes.

“I wouldn’t look so pleased, love,” she warned.

She reached out and grabbed his erection, rubbing him in short, firm strokes she knew he loved while she also licked and sucked her way across his chest and around his nipples.

“Oh, Jesus,” he choked, shuddering bodily as Rose bit down hard on the skin at the side of his neck.

“No students to hide these from,” she mumbled into his skin just moments before she sucked hard enough for his eyes to roll back in his head from the overwhelming sensations she was making him feel.

He whimpered and as much as he wanted her to continue, he felt his tenuous grasp on his control slipping. He knew he could go a second round—and he intended to, if Rose was amenable—but he didn’t want to come to just her fingers.

“Bloody hell, Rose,” he gasped, prying her hand away from his cock. “Can-can we get to the main event? Please?”

Rose nodded and turned away from him to root around in her nightstand for the box of condoms she’d put there that afternoon. She crowed triumphantly and faced James once more, holding up a little foil packet.

“Can’t forget this. I wouldn’t mind having another baby with you, just not quite yet.”

James nodded in agreement and gestured down to his erection. “Care to do the honors, my love?”

Rose pursed her lips as her cheeks went pink, and she said, “Don’t make fun, James.”

He furrowed his brow, wondering what he’d said to embarrass Rose.

“I don’t understand,” he admitted.

“Never put on a condom before,” she mumbled. “You know that.”

“Well, it would be a little hard for you to wear one, I’ll admit,” he said breezily.

She snorted and rolled her eyes, and James grinned, pleased to see her embarrassed blush fade.

“C’mon, I’ll show you,” he said, taking the condom from her. “You know you don’t have to be embarrassed about anything around me. If you don’t know something, just ask. I’ll never make fun of you for it. Especially this. I’m sorry, I truly didn’t realize you would have no idea how to use a condom.”

“Then how do you know how to use one?” she asked, biting her lip. “I mean… we’ve never used one before. Always relied on my birth control.”

“I’ve never used one with someone else, if that’s what you’re asking,” he said flatly, clenching his jaw.

“No, I know,” Rose assured, cursing herself when she realized how her question sounded. “I know you’ve only been with me. But that’s my point. We’ve never used one.”

James’s cheeks pinkened and he chuckled self-deprecatingly. “Want to know a secret? I practiced putting one on in the few weeks prior to your eighteenth birthday.”

Rose stared at him for a moment, then giggled at the absurdity.

“Oi, you’re not supposed to laugh at me,” James growled, dropping the condom so he could tickle his fingers across her ribs.

“Sorry, that’s just so sweet,” Rose gasped as she suddenly got a mental picture of James fumbling around with a condom as he Googled how to wear one.

“Wanted to be prepared, is all,” he said, shrugging. “Right, ready to do this?”

“So romantic,” Rose snorted. “Let’s get you ready again.”

His erection had wilted slightly in the interim, and he sucked in a breath as she pushed on his shoulders and forced him to his back. She laved her tongue across his nipples, nipping at them as she covered his cock with her hand. She massaged him softly as she trailed her tongue across his chest, down his stomach, and to his hips.

“Oh, blimey,” he panted as she bit and sucked his hipbone until she left a bright red mark he knew would still be there the next day. He felt himself hardening beneath her palm, and he hummed in pleasure as she teased the tip of her tongue across the head of his cock. “I-I’m quite ready now.”

Rose hummed in acknowledgement, and she pressed a long, open-mouthed kiss to his cock before she sat back on her knees, grinning cheekily at him.

“Minx,” he rasped, sitting up. He fumbled around in the sheets, looking for the condom they’d dropped, and he crowed in triumph as he found it. “Right. Condom application 101. Ready?”

“Yes, Professor McCrimmon,” Rose said sweetly, biting her lip.

James’s hands shook as he ripped open the foil packet, and took out the condom.

“Hold onto the tip,” he said, swallowing thickly as Rose cupped his balls in her hand and rolled them gently. “Are you paying attention, Miss Tyler?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, snapping off a salute. “Just steadying your cock for you. Aren’t I being so helpful?”

“Extremely,” he muttered, his eyes fluttering shut as she continued playing with him. “Right. Keep hold of the tip, and place the condom on the head of the erect penis.”

Rose watched him settle the latex on his erection.

“Then smooth it down,” he instructed, still pinching the top of the condom as he stroked it down his erection.

“Need some help with that, sir?” Rose asked, bumping his hand out of the way so she could work the condom down to the base of his cock while giving him a few teasing squeezes as she did so.

“Oh, brilliant,” James sighed, rocking up into her fist. “And that’s it. Simple. Hope you were paying attention; this’ll be on the final exam.”

“Hmm, not sure I completely followed,” Rose murmured, straddling his hips so his erection settled against her lower belly. “Might need a few tutoring sessions. Some hands-on practice.”

“I think that can be arranged,” James mumbled, tugging her flush against him and moaning when he felt the heat of her radiating against him. “C-come to my office hours.”

James reclined on the pillows and reached over for the bottle of lube on his bedside table. He handed it to Rose and said, “Use as much as you need.”

Rose took the bottle from him and drizzled some lubricant down on him.

“I’m driving?” she asked, slowly rubbing his cock through her folds, enjoying the slippery feeling of him, even if she wished she could feel him skin to skin.

“Yep. Following your lead on this. If at any point you want to stop, just say so,” he sighed, rocking his hips against her, chasing her heat.

“Trust me, we’re not stopping,” she said, feeling her need for him growing exponentially as she ground down against him. “Ready?”

“Been ready all night,” he sighed, clutching her hips as she lined him up.

She sank down slowly on him, and he tensed his muscles to keep from thrusting up into her in one quick move. God, she felt so good. Her muscles gripped him tightly, squeezing him so deliciously in a way he hadn’t felt in three months.

“You feel good,” James gasped, tightening his grip on her hips.

“Do I? Really?” Rose asked, and James’s heart stuttered at the uncertainty in her voice.

He opened his eyes, and saw an odd expression on her face, but it most certainly wasn’t an expression of euphoric rapture.

“Everything okay?” he asked, rubbing his hands up and down her thighs.

“It feels… different,” she said, tightening her muscles around him.

“Good different, or bad different?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Just… different.”

“Am I hurting you?” he asked worriedly, ready to lift her off of him, but he breathed out a thankful sigh when she shook her head. “Want to stop?”

She shook her head again, and James couldn’t help but feel relieved. If she’d said yes, of course he would’ve agreed and stopped, but he really, really wanted to make love with his wife.

“Go as slowly as you need to,” James encouraged when she rocked tentatively against him.

“I want this to be good for you,” Rose argued.

“It is,” he promised. “It always feels brilliant to be inside you. I want this to feel nice for you, too. Just… do what feels good. I’m just along for the ride.”

Rose snorted at him, but planted her hands on the bed on either side of his head as she started to really move.

James sighed in pleasure and his eyes rolled back at the hot, wet friction. Her breasts swung in front of his face, and he reached up and palmed them. They were much bigger than he was used to, and he enjoyed squishing them around in his hands and tugging at her nipples and…

“Shit, James, stop,” Rose said, sitting up just as liquid squirted into his palms. “I’m sorry. Shit.”

James glanced up at her, his hands soaked with milk as more of it dribbled out of her breasts as she helplessly sat on top of him.

He imagined they looked completely ridiculous, and the absurdity of the moment made him break out in peals of laughter.

“God, we’re a right mess,” he giggled, wiping his hands on the sheets.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, crossing her arms across her leaking chest.

“Hey, do you see me complaining?” he asked, reaching up to cradle her cheek in his palm. “It was my own fault, anyway. Keep forgetting those aren’t mine at the moment.”

Rose smiled wryly as swiped drops of breastmilk off of his chest.

“Now, if you’re all done trying to drown me in Ainsley’s breakfast, d’you think we can keep going?”

Rose rolled her eyes at her daft soulmate.

“Hands to yourself,” she warned as she once more moved against him.

“You sure about that?” James asked, ghosting his fingertips across her hips and down to her bum. “Are absolutely sure about that?”

He gave her arse a quick squeeze then dropped his hands to his sides.

“You nutter.”

“But your nutter,” James said happily. “And anyways, you said to keep my hands to myself. So… hands to myself…”

He raised his hands and tweaked his nipples and scratched at his chest hair. He moaned loudly and arched into his own touch, even though it didn’t feel nearly as good as it did when Rose touched him like that.

“My nutter indeed,” Rose mumbled fondly, recognizing his false and exaggerated moans. She reached down to tease her fingertips around his nipples. “Hands off the tits. Is that clearer for you?”

“Mhm,” he murmured, shivering as she scraped her nails across his chest.

He reached out and grabbed her arse again, squeezing and squishing her firm flesh in his hands.

After a few minutes of her grinding slowly down on top of him, he tentatively thrust his hips up against her as he tugged her hips closer to him.

Rose understood his request, and she braced herself with her hands on his chest as she started thrusting on him more quickly. His sighs and moans of pleasure began increasing in pitch and tempo, and the sounds made her own arousal roll to a boil low in her belly.

He started chanting her name pleadingly, as his eyes squeezed shut on their own volition, and the telltale furrow appeared between his brows. She tried to keep watching him, loving when she could see him tip over in pleasure, but she was so close to her own climax that she let her eyes flutter shut and let her pleasure consume her as she heard and felt James’s orgasm overtake him.

When she returned to awareness, she shakily lifted herself off of James and flopped down on the bed beside him.

He curled up against her instantly, and as he tried to wrap his arms around her, Rose murmured, “Take care of the condom first.”

He grumbled, and reached down between his legs and removed it before he tied a knot at the top of the latex and dropped it over the side of the bed.

“James,” she chastised, hearing the wet thud.

“I’ll get it in a minute,” he promised, finally wrapping her up in his arms. “Just let me hold you.”

Heat and love pulsed through her heart, and she couldn’t refuse. He was trembling beside her and still breathing heavily, and Rose had forgotten how much she missed these post-coital cuddles.

“That was fantastic,” she murmured, nuzzling her nose into his hair.

“So bloody fantastic,” he agreed, humming happily. “Good thing Dad took Ainsley. I think we’d’ve woken her up.”

“Guess we’ll have to practice staying quiet,” Rose mused.

“Guess so,” James agreed, pressing soft kisses to the swell of her breast. “Not tonight, though. Tonight, Rose Tyler-McCrimmon, I plan on making you scream again and again and again.”

oOoOo

The next morning, Rose frowned as she poked at her belly, the words the man in the restaurant had said echoing in the forefront of her mind. She still looked like she could be at least six months pregnant, and the skin was saggy and stretched, and she grimaced as she was able to gather up a handful of her stomach.

“All right there, love?” James asked, stepping out of the shower behind her.

The sated, goofy grin on his face made her feel marginally better, but she still felt a spike of self-consciousness. They’d made love quite enthusiastically last night and that morning, and James never once seemed to be bothered by her figure, but she knew that he would be too bloody nice to ever say anything about it.

“I’m flabby,” she muttered, looking back down at her stomach.

“You’re gorgeous,” he countered, stepping up behind her to look at her through their mirror.

“No, I’m not,” she scoffed. “Bloody hell. You must be incredibly horny if you’re at all turned on by me right now.”

“Hey, now,” he chastised. “That’s my wife you’re insulting.”

“Seriously, James. Look at me,” she said, taking her stomach in hand and rolling the loose flesh around in her fingers. “This is disgusting.”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with what that arsehole at the restaurant said last night, does it?” he demanded, frowning at her.

She felt her cheeks heat up and she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze.

“He’s a wanker,” James said softly, covering her hands with hers where they rested on her belly. He smoothed his hands across her skin, encouraging her stomach to rest naturally. He stroked his fingers up and down her stomach, tracing her stretch marks as he went. “Listen to me, Rose. Your body has just done an amazing thing. It nourished and cradled our beautiful daughter for eight months. It had to grow and expand as she did. It’s only been seven weeks, love. It underwent eight months of changes; you can’t expect to look like you did before Ainsley overnight.”

“Yeah,” Rose mumbled, feeling an uncomfortable mixture of embarrassment and self-consciousness. She knew James would love her no matter what she looked like, but she still felt a little uncomfortable in her body that hadn’t been her own for the last nine months.

He nuzzled his lips against her neck and pressed kisses to her skin as he murmured, “And while I still think you are the most stunningly gorgeous woman in the universe, if it really bothers you so much, we can start an exercise regimen, if you want. I’ll do it with you. We can tone your tummy until you’re satisfied. Or if you don’t want to do it with me, I’ll be on baby duty so you can work on looking the way you want to look. Whatever you want.”

Rose sighed and nodded, and leaned back into his touch. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and careful cradled her stomach in his hands.

“I love you,” he whispered, sweeping his lips across her neck. “Saggy belly and all.”

He gave her stomach a playful pinch, and grinned at her when she elbowed him in the gut.

“Git,” she said, but James was pleased to hear the laughter in her voice. “Come on, I’m starved. And I still owe you an anniversary gift.”

James eagerly followed her into the kitchen and together they whipped up a full English breakfast.

Later, as they sat on the sofa with their empty breakfast dishes, Rose hopped up and disappeared down the hall to the home office. She returned a moment later with a wrapped box, and James took it from her with a thank you kiss.

He ripped off the paper to reveal a box with her company’s logo on it, and he excitedly opened the box, knowing some sort of art lay within.

He pulled out a long, rectangular picture frame that had two pictures side by side. The one on the left was a black and white photograph of him and Ainsley asleep on the sofa. Ainsley was naked save for her nappy and she was curled up on his bare chest, and his hands were cradling her tiny body as they slept.

The picture on the right was a fully-colored digital art rendering of the photo to the left. James marveled at the soft colors Rose used to make the photo come alive.

He ran a reverent eye over the photo and the portrait; the love behind each piece was so obvious, it made him ache.

“Oh, Rose,” he whispered, a lump of emotion lodging in his throat.

“Do you like it?” she asked, biting her lip.

James breathed out a disbelieving laugh, and he leaned forward to press a grateful kiss to her lips. How lucky was he to have such an artistic soulmate who could beautifully document every stage of their life, and their child’s life?

“I love it,” he whispered, continuing to press kisses to her lips. “I love it so much. I love you so much. I love our daughter so much.”

Rose grinned beneath his mouth and twined her fingers through his hair to deepen the kiss.

oOoOo

James grunted in her ear as he moved more quickly on top of her, chasing his release in sync with the countdown on their television. She’d come too quickly, much to James’s satisfaction, and he was now thrusting into her with abandon, focused on his own pleasure.

Rose loved being able to watch him like this. She was drowsy and sated from her own orgasm, and his movements felt so good inside her, sending delicious aftershocks of pleasure through her body. She worked on helping him lose himself in ecstasy by clenching her inner muscles as tight as she could as she held him closer, knowing he loved being surrounded by her.

His grunts turned more urgent and his hips stuttered, and it was all Rose could do not to laugh and break the mood as the countdown hit ‘four’.

“Come on, James,” she whispered in his ear, making her voice breathier for him.

She squeezed her thighs around his hips, dug her nails into his scalp, and nipped his earlobe, and that was enough to tip him over. He buried himself as deeply as he could go as shudders rippled through him before he arched his back and let out the most beautiful sounds of pleasure.

Rose held him through his release, gentling her touch on him even as she still squeezed him tightly from inside.

He flopped down on top of her, still letting out the occasional sighing moan.

“Lift your hips,” Rose murmured, stroking his hair away from his face. “Just for a second, I promise.”

He grumbled but dutifully pulled out of her so they could take care of the condom. Rose tugged it off of him and wrapped it in a few tissues before dropping it onto the floor, then she urged James back on top of her.

He nuzzled his face into her neck and sighed happily.

“Happy New Year, Rose,” he whispered, pressing lazy kisses across her skin.

“Happy New Year,” she replied, mindlessly running her fingers through his hair. “And guess what? You got it this year.”

“Yeah?” He lifted his head to look at her, a daft grin on his face.

“Mhm. I think the countdown got to two just as you started.”

He hummed deep in his throat. For years they’d been trying to time their shagging so their orgasms would hit right when the countdown ended.

“Gonna have to work harder to get you to come on schedule next year,” he mused sleepily.

Rose snorted. “You worked too hard this year. I was finished a full minute before you were.”

He giggled proudly, and Rose felt her chest get warm and heavy with her love for him.

She pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead, before nudging him off of her so they could clean up then get ready for bed. But just as they stood on still-shaky legs, the pop of fireworks began, far closer to the house than they were anticipating. The froze, and glanced at each other, then the baby monitor just moments before Ainsley let out a startled cry.

“I’ll get her,” James said, wiping himself clean with his discarded boxers. He slipped on a fresh pair of pants and a t-shirt and made his way out of their room.

Rose used the loo and slipped into new knickers and one of James’s shirts just as her husband returned with their still-crying baby.

“Oh, shh, darling, you’re all right,” he soothed, bouncing slightly. “You’re all right. Daddy’s here. Daddy’s got you. Those fireworks are pretty scary, huh? And loud. But they’re so pretty and colorful. When you’re a bit older, we’ll take you to see some. But for now, let’s just have a cuddle in bed until they stop.”

A particularly loud boom echoed through the house, and James winced as he felt Ainsley flinch against him and let out a wail.

“Shh, I know,” he murmured, rocking her slightly as he pressed kisses to her hair. “But don’t you worry, darling. You’re completely safe. I’ll always do whatever I can to keep you safe.”

Rose joined her family in bed, then flicked off her bedside lamp. The only light came from the nightlight in the hallway and the occasional burst of color outside their window.

“Must be setting them off in the park,” James mused, moving so he was lying on his back with Ainsley on his chest.

Rose stroked her finger down the back of Ainsley’s hand, then tucked it into her palm. The baby clutched Rose’s finger tightly for a few minutes, before letting go to stuff her fist into her mouth.

“Want me to put her back in her crib?” Rose asked when she saw James’s eyes droop shut.

“Nah, she’s fine for now,” he replied, his eyes still closed. “Reckon fireworks will be going off throughout the night. At least for the next hour or so.”

“M’kay.”

Rose tugged up the sheets and draped them over James and Ainsley.

“Love you,” she mumbled, resting her head on his pillow to better cuddle with her family.

“Love you, too,” James murmured, turning his head to kiss her forehead. “And happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary, James.”

Eighteen years ago, her life had changed dramatically overnight when she’d been marked as soulmated. It was the best day of her life, knowing she had someone who was hers and hers alone, and that she was completely and utterly his. And now they had a little someone who was theirs.

She never knew she could love someone so much that it felt like she might burst apart because her body couldn’t possibly contain it all. That feeling grew and strengthened every day, and not just for Ainsley, but for James. She felt as though she fell in love with him all over again whenever he smiled at her, or made her a cup of tea just the way she liked it, or tucked a blanket around her when she got too immersed in her art to realize she was getting chilled.

There was no better feeling than being with her soulmate, and she was so pleased to find that despite having spent almost every day with him for the past six and a half years, she still wanted to spend all of her time with him. He made her feel so safe and loved and comfortable. They had made a home in each other, and now it had grown to encompass their daughter.

Rose sighed contentedly and let herself drift off to sleep, tucked in beside the two people she loved most in the world.

If you’re curious, these are the earrings James got for Rose.

[hkvoyage]

Fic: Butterfly Wings - Chapter 32

Story summary

A fashion blog started at University launched Blaine Anderson’s fortune and fame. As Vogue���s new editor-in-chief, he is struggling to find an original angle for an upcoming issue. Kurt Hummel has recently arrived in New York City after finishing high school, and is having no luck building a musical theater career, so he decides to explore another passion of his: fashion. He applies for an internship at Vogue, and Isabelle sees in him the perfect fresh face to liven up the magazine, and convinces him to try out as a model. Kurt meets Blaine, and in spite of their 10-year age difference, sparks fly. Can they overcome misunderstandings and sabotage to find their happily-ever-after? Klaine model AU.

Rating for this chapter: General (overall story is mature)

Word count for this chapter: 5,623

Can also be read on A03 / FF  

Master post is here.

Cassie at @cc-graphics​ created animated artwork for the Skype conversation in this chapter. Please leave her some feedback here.

Thank you to the amazing @lilyvandersteen for the beta work and support.

*****

“Maybe we needed to break a little, so we could put ourselves back together more beautifully than before.” ― Leah Raeder, Cam 

April 

Kurt wakes up with the late afternoon sunlight streaming across his face. He remembers that he’s in Antoine’s studio, but can’t for the life of him think why he’s in Antoine’s bed. He quickly sits up to assess the situation.

“Non, non, mon chouchou. Don’t move!”

Antoine is standing at the foot of the bed… behind an easel… with a paintbrush in his hand. Kurt quickly pulls the sheet from his waist to the top of his neck. Kurt now remembers that he finally agreed to pose for Antoine for a painting. He must have dozed off during the sitting. Life has been so busy working full-time at Bellerose, taking two fashion courses in the evening and spending time with Antoine on the weekends.

“Why do you cover yourself? All that pale skin is parfait. Those rosy lips and cheeks, mmmm…”

Kurt smiles and slowly lowers the sheets to his bellybutton. Kurt isn’t quite ready to allow Antoine to paint a full nude portrait of him. They’ve become closer over the past month, with a few hot make-out sessions, but Kurt isn’t willing to go further unless he’s in a committed relationship. Kurt doesn’t know what their relationship means to Antoine, and it’s starting to bug him.

When they go out with Antoine’s friends, everyone assumes that they are together in an exclusive relationship. Antoine is attentive, warm and caring, and has eyes for no-one but Kurt. It’s casual and nothing that’s overly complicated – after the situation with Blaine, it had initially seemed ideal. However, Kurt is getting to the point where he wants some sort of commitment. They have never discussed it, and sometimes words speak louder than actions.

“The afternoon sunlight… C’est idéal. T’es si beau comme ça. Je t'aime (It’s ideal. You’re beautiful like that. I love you).”

Kurt freezes for a few moments, hardly believing what he’s just heard. Did Antoine say that he loves him? Did he mean it or was he just caught up in the moment with his painting? One thing Kurt knows for sure is that he has to find out the answer.

“Y-you love me, Antoine?”

“Oui, mon amour. You are perfection on my canvas. You inspire me.”

“So you love me as a model?”

“Bien sûr (Of course). I also love spending time with you. Seeing Paris through your eyes is magical and like a breath of fresh air. It’s like viewing Paris from a new perspective, and that makes me more creative.”

“D-does this mean we’re boyfriends?”

“Oh, mon chouchou, I’m not into labels. I cannot do relationships.”

“What do you mean by that, exactly? What are you looking for, then?” Kurt asks, sitting up and covering his chest.

“Boyfriends, marriage and children. Pha! So bourgeois. I’m a free spirit and my art is the most important thing in my life. I can’t be creative if I have to worry about a husband and children. I’ve seen it with other artists. They worry about the mortgage, the schools, and other unimportant things in life. Soon their art is nothing but a hobby and they settle for some boring desk job. Non, that is not the life for me.”

“That sounds a little lonely to me,” Kurt replies. He can’t imagine a life without a husband and family, and establishing roots in a community. Kurt is a little nervous asking the next question.

“Where does that leave us, Antoine?”

“I may be a free spirit, but I’m not a philanderer. I enjoy the company of only one man… at a time. However, my art is my mistress and her call is more powerful than any man can be.”

Kurt has had enough of the modeling session. He wraps a bathrobe around himself before getting out of bed to use the bathroom. While Kurt is in the shower, he thinks about Antoine’s philosophy of life. On paper, it sounds ideal – being caught up in the moment with one man without society’s labels. But Kurt’s heart is telling him something different. It’s not something he really wants in the long-term, but can he settle for this type of relationship as long as he’s in Paris?

*****

Kurt adjusts his tablet so that his image fills the little window in Skype. “Blaine, can you see me?”

“I certainly can. You look amazing, Kurt. Can you see me okay?”

Kurt smiles because he has spent a lot of time making sure his hair is perfect before their prearranged Skype call. It’s one thing to tweet, e-mail and talk on the phone, but another thing altogether to see each other on Skype. Kurt’s heart flutters when he sees Blaine fill the screen. He can tell Blaine has taken some time with his hair as well, because the loose curls have a luxurious shine. Blaine is wearing a simple T-shirt, but its snug fit accentuates his biceps, and those distressed jeans he loves so much. However, it’s Blaine’s warm sparkling eyes and smile that capture Kurt’s attention. Blaine looks at him as if he’s the single most important person in his life. After minutes of silence have gone by with nothing more than them staring at each other, Kurt clears his throat.

“Who’s your buddy? I didn’t know that you now have a dog.”

“Oh, Sundance isn’t mine - he’s Bentley’s. I agreed to dog sit for him this week. It’s Bentley and Marge’s 20th wedding anniversary and they went to La Jolla. Marge has a cousin living there and they’ve always wanted to visit California.”

A vision of a house surrounded by a white picket fence, two children and a dog flashes through Kurt’s head. He’ll have to convince Blaine that cats are better than dogs… Kurt quickly shakes these thoughts out of his mind and continues the conversation.

“I read the editorial you did on accessories you sent me, Blaine. It’s really good… Exceptional even. You know my views on fashion having no gender.”

“Yeah, you’ve proved that time and again. Your views certainly influenced the editorial. What do you think? Did I go too far with my examples?”

“No, you didn’t. If your readers take on your ideas, the jewelry industry will have a lot to thank you for. Have you picked the photo to go with your editorial?”

“Umm… We’re using the usual headshot of me. Why?”

“As cute as that photo is, it doesn’t push any boundaries. Why don’t you get a special photo taken, wearing some of the accessories you describe in the editorial? I don’t think scarves really suit you, but I bet you could really pull off wearing some bracelets and rings.”

“You think I look cute in that photo?” Blaine asks with a twinkle in his eye.

“Is that all you got from what I said, Mr. Anderson?” Kurt huffs, embarrassed that he let that slip.

“No, of course not. You don’t think I’d look silly? I’m not a model,” Blaine giggles nervously.

“That’s exactly the point! If you really believe that accessories can be worn by everybody, you have to lead by example. Show people that they’re not just meant for supermodels to adorn a magazine spread. It’s a look that a successful businessman can pull off as well.

“You know, Kurt, I think you’re onto something. I will get a new photo taken. I knew you would have a good idea to make the editorial come to life. Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome. Now tell me about the Monarch House. My dad sent me some photos of the after-party. I loved your T-shirt, by the way. I wonder where you got that idea? Snooping around Rachel’s YouTube channel?”

Blaine throws his head back in laughter and describes his evening of watching New Direction videos on YouTube. He then relates a few stories about the Monarch House opening day and its activities since. The conversation is light and easy, and for the first time, Kurt feels like maybe their friendship survived Klainegate…. Maybe there’s even hope for more… Someday…

*****

May

Kurt enters the Bellerose Boutique early on Monday morning, with a café au lait and un pain au chocolat from the Petite Patisserie, below where he lives. He limits himself to one chocolate croissant on work days, and brings two chocolate éclairs to Emmeline’s every Friday night. He climbs up the stairs instead of using the elevator, hoping that he’s working off some of the calories.

Kurt’s workstation is in front of Christophe’s office, and he starts up the computer before taking off his jacket. Springtime has come to Paris and Kurt is thankful for the warmer weather, and the tulips and daffodils in bloom. It looks like the cherry trees will be blossoming by the weekend.

Kurt loves his new job at the Bellerose Boutique – it’s everything he could possibly want. Sure, there are boring administrative duties – answering the phone and organizing Christophe’s diary – but the other aspects of the job more than make up for it. He loves seeing the new designs come together, and he’s even made a few suggestions that have been used. His nighttime courses in fashion design are also helping to formalize his knowledge of good design structure. Christophe reviews all his design coursework and makes useful suggestions. He has even hinted that a couple of Kurt’s designs might be used in the next winter’s collection.

One thing that has surprised Kurt in his new job is how much more he prefers working behind the scenes. He doesn’t miss the spotlight, both on and off the set. He can see how this type of career could blend in so much better with raising a family. While Fashion Weeks and new line debuts are busy times, requiring every waking moment of the day, they are predictable. With good planning, the Hummel family could still work smoothly.

When the computer is ready, Kurt opens Christophe’s diary. The morning is relatively light, but Christophe will be out of the office after lunchtime. Kurt then opens Christophe’s business e-mail, flagging messages that require his boss’ immediate attention. There is one from the fabric supplier in Thailand and one from the ad agency in Paris. Kurt takes a sip of his coffee and nibbles on his chocolate croissant, and continues browsing through the new messages. Kurt’s eyes pop when he reads the subject line ‘Opening of the LA Boutique next month’.

Kurt knows that Christophe plans to open a boutique in LA, the first shop in the US. However, Kurt didn’t realize that it’s happening so soon. He opens the message and reads about the LA Boutique, and the detailed plans for the opening day and its fashion show. Kurt raises an eyebrow when he reads that Sam Evans has been confirmed to be a model on the runway.

“Bonjour, Kurt. I see that you’re up with the birds this morning. Any interesting e-mails today?’ Christophe asks as he walks past Kurt into his office.

Kurt makes Christophe a coffee with the shiny new Nespresso machine by his desk. He grabs his tablet and rushes into Christophe’s office.

“I flagged the e-mails that require your attention this morning. The Thai supplier wishes to confirm the amount of silk material you’re ordering. The ad agency wants a meeting to go over the budget for the next collection. And…umm… Jayden Robinson has confirmed the details of the LA boutique opening.”

“Fantastique! I need you to book four first class air tickets to LA for next month. There will be myself, my wife, Mademoiselle Monette, and yourself.”

“Me?! I’m going to LA with you?”

“Of course I want you there. I’ll need you more than ever in the days leading up to the opening. When you make the travel arrangements, make sure you book your own flight back to Paris a week or so later.”

“Why is that?”

“You want to see your father, non? Perhaps some other family and friends? I know how difficult it can be sometimes to live so far away from your home. So, book yourself the long way back through Ohio and New York City. Consider it a birthday present from me.”

Kurt practically skips out of Christophe’s office. He can’t wait to tell his dad the news that he’ll be home for a visit. And yes, he’ll go to New York City and surprise Blaine. Christophe was amazingly kind with the extra time off work.

Best. Boss. Ever.

*****

“That’s fantastic news, kiddo. I can’t wait to see you. Do you want me to come to LA for the boutique opening?”

“Maybe it’s best if you don’t, Dad. I’m going to be super busy and I won’t have any time to spend with you. Why don’t we wait to see each other the following week in Lima? I’ll be home for my birthday. I’ll then spend a few days in New York City before I return to Paris.”

“Anyone in particular you wish to see there? I hope it’s not that Sebastian fellow from Elle magazine. You’ve got your life sorted out now and you don’t need to be partying with him all night.”

Kurt rolls his eyes at his dad through the computer camera and hopes that Skype picks up his expression.

“No, Dad. I won’t see Sebastian. We haven’t talked since I moved to Paris. I want to meet up with Blaine.”

Kurt can see his father’s lips turn into a huge grin and look up as if he’s thanking the gods.

“I know you are Team Blaine’s biggest cheerleader, but I’m not sure what’s going to happen when I see him. I’m hoping that we can be friends. Blaine has a new man in his life now.”

“Come off it, son. I’m Team Kurt all the way. Every. Single. Time. My respect for Blaine has nothing to do with you. He’s a decent young man and is doing a lot of good for Ohio. The Monarch House in Westerville is a huge success. I’ve been making noises about how the next house should be in Lima, and Blaine is listening.”

“And that’s the only reason you like Blaine?”

“Look, buddy, I’m not going to lie. I liked how happy you were when you and Blaine were friends. He really cares about you. I don’t know anything about a new man in Blaine’s life, but he certainly doesn’t come with Blaine to Ohio. All I know is that man is still in love with you. He always asks me about how you’re doing.”

“I miss him a lot, Dad. I know I still want him in my life. We need to meet up and see how that could or might work. This boutique opening is giving me the perfect opportunity to see him.”

“You’ve got a hell of a jet-setting lifestyle, bud - Paris, LA, New York City. I’m glad you can squeeze in Lima, Ohio to see your old man.”

When the Skype call finishes, Kurt makes a list of things he needs to do before flying to LA. There are presents to buy, school to notify of his absence, a wardrobe to be planned, and he needs to contact Rachel so they can meet up in Lima. Kurt looks over his list, wondering what it’s missing. It’s only after dinner that he figures it out – Antoine.

Of course, Kurt needs to tell Antoine that he’s going to the US for a couple of weeks, but Kurt knows that he needs to tell him more than that. Their conversation last Sunday had been a real eye-opener. Kurt had thought they were heading to some sort of commitment, only to find out that Antoine doesn’t ‘do’ relationships.

As much as Kurt enjoys spending time with Antoine, he knows that the relationship will go nowhere. Sooner, rather than later, Kurt will get frustrated with Antoine’s casual and free-spirited philosophy. Kurt really wants to matter in someone’s life. He wants his partner to be so much more than just a friend and a willing body to pass the time with – boyfriends, then husbands, and then fathers. There’s no way that he and Antoine will have a happy ending. If Kurt ends things now, there’s a chance that they can remain friends.

And then of course, there’s Blaine.

Kurt’s thoughts have revolved around Blaine since he heard the news of the trip that morning. His heart flutters in a way that it never has for Antoine. It might be seven months since he’s last seen Blaine, but Kurt knows he’s still deeply in love.

Kurt arranges to see Antoine the following evening for dinner, ensuring that they will be alone to speak. There’s no easy way of doing this, but he’s got to break up with Antoine before he leaves for LA.

*****

“This beef bourguignon is simply delicious. One Friday night, you’ll need to teach me how to make it.”

“Oui, I can do this for you. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” Emmeline cackles.

“Don’t forget that I won’t be here for the next three Friday nights, because I’ll be in LA.”

“Mon petit, you leave so suddenly! Does this have anything to do with Antoine? He told me you agreed to be friends only. I was hoping that your love would blossom, but it wasn’t meant to be.”

“I like Antoine very much and enjoy spending time with him. However, we both have different views about what love is, so what might have blossomed would have died at the first frost.”

“The heart knows what the heart wants. And I think that you know who you want. That homme américain (American man)?

“I’m not sure, but I haven’t seen him in seven months and I miss him so much. I’m hoping that we can meet up during my visit and then we’ll see what happens.”

“Ack, the affairs of the heart. Si compliqué (So complicated)! If you love him, go after him! And I want to know every single little detail when you get back.”

*****

“I thought you didn’t want to model any more. What made you change your mind, Sam?” Blaine asks. He makes a point to touch base with Sam each week to not only catch up with his news, but to find out how Mercedes and his future godchild are doing.

“Dude, do you know how expensive baby stuff is? Mercedes took me to Babies-R-Us a couple of weekends ago. I can’t believe how much a newborn baby needs. I thought they just slept, ate and pooped. Mercedes says I have a lot to learn. I’m doing just the one modeling job so that we can buy all the crap for the nursery.”

“So tell me more about this modeling gig? Is it for a designer that I know?”

“I’m not sure. It’s some fancy French boutique called Bellerose.”

Blaine has heard rumors through the fashion industry grapevine that Christophe Bellerose plans to open a boutique in LA, however he didn’t realize that a firm date has been set. Blaine isn’t sure whether Kurt will be attending, but if there is any chance, he’s determined to be there.

“Kurt works at Bellerose in Paris. What’s the date of the opening?”

“May 23rd. I know what you’re thinking, Blaine...”

Blaine quickly looks at his calendar and there’s nothing in it than can’t be moved around those dates.

“I’ll be at the opening. I’m going to clear my diary for the next week as well.”

“Yessss! Let’s hope that Kurt will be there as well. Can I ask you a favor, bro?”

“Anything, Sam.”

“Would you mind taking Mercedes to the opening? She’ll be seven months pregnant, and I’d feel a whole lot better if you were looking after her.”

“Absolutely. I haven’t seen Mercedes since you two got married. Besides, it will be a good time for her to whisper the baby wish list to me. Godfathers always give awesome presents.”

Blaine is secretly grateful that he’ll be going to the boutique’s opening with Mercedes. She’ll give him the support he’ll need if Kurt is there.

“So, did you see the amazing reaction to the newest comics in the Surfs Up! series? I now have over 140,000 followers.”

“That’s so cool, Sam. I can’t believe all the fanart that people are making to go with the webcomic as well.”

“It’s not only the fanart, Blaine. There is even fanfic about them. Most of it is the fluffy stuff about making cupcakes together, but there’s one author that’s different. His name is JiffyFeels. You don’t think that it’s KrianFeels writing by another name?”

“Well, tell me something about the story, Sam.”

“It starts like the rest of them, with Biffy and Jamie making cupcakes. But then the whipped cream, cherries and sprinkles don’t end up on the cupcake. Instead, they’re spread along Biffy’s body and Jamie takes his time licking and getting Biffy off. Not sure what’s going to happen in the next update.”

“That sounds like KrianFeels alright. We do know what’s going to go down in the next chapter. Sex on a surfboard? Fucking in the kitchen while the cupcakes are baking? Is Mercedes letting you read this stuff?”

“She only banned KrianFeels. She didn’t specifically mention JiffyFeels. Promise me that you won’t tell her.”

“Your secret’s safe with me. Just don’t go too crazy in the bedroom,” Blaine chuckles.

*****

“So how are the circulation numbers for the ‘pushing boundaries’ issue?” Blaine asks Tina when he enters Vogue’s executive suite.

“They are higher than we expected. I e-mailed you the stats. I think you have a few days before you need to decide if we need another print run. I’ve also sent you links to fashion blogs that have reviewed the ‘pushing boundaries’ issue. Most bloggers are positive about it. Donald Trump of course thinks it’s perverse and things like this shouldn’t be published.”

“If Trump isn’t happy, then I’m ecstatic. Even Trump and his cronies couldn’t possibly change the freedom of speech. Thank god the Supreme Court is there as a check and balance.”

Blaine taps on Tina’s desk nervously and then says, “I’m going to LA in a couple of weeks. I’ll let you know the dates. When you book the flight, can you make sure that the return journey is flexible? I’m not exactly sure when I’ll return.”

“Is this trip business or pleasure?” Tina asks, annoyed that she hasn’t heard about this before.

“A mix. I’ll be going to the opening of the first Bellerose Boutique in the USA. Sam will be working as one of the models.”

“Hey, isn’t that the same fashion house that Kurt works for in Paris?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Is Kurt going to be in LA? Is that why you don’t know when you’re returning?”

“I don’t know if Kurt will be there, but if he is, I want to see if we can be friends again.”

“I knew that you weren’t over him. Wake up, Blaine! You were never ever just friends. If you do meet again, don’t let him escape. Tell Kurt exactly how you feel. I never, ever want to go through your lovesick pining again. None of your friends do, for that matter.”

“Frankly, I don’t want to go through that again either. However, Kurt is very independent and knows his own mind. There’s no way I can force him to love me.”

“I don’t think you’re going to need to force Kurt - at the least the Kurt that I once knew before he abandoned ship and made your life a living hell. I’m not sure I can forgive him as easily as you do.”

“Then it’s a good thing that you’re not the one after Kurt.”

“Where do you plan to stay in LA? With Cooper or Sam?” Tina asks.

“Neither. I think I’ll stay at a hotel. Can you book one close to the Bellerose Boutique? Sam and Mercedes have a lot going on at the moment, with the baby coming. And as much as I love Cooper, I think I’ll be better off staying by myself.”

Blaine hums as he enters the office. He carefully looks over the stats for this month’s issue, then the links to the influential fashion blogs. Most reviewers like the ‘pushing boundaries’ issue and applaud Vogue for its cutting-edge reporting.

Blaine thinks back to the phone conversation he had with Michael Saiger, the founder and creative director of Miansai, on the way to work. Saiger called to thank him for wearing one of their signature bracelets for the editorial photo. Internet orders have soared as a result, and Saiger offered him a lot of money to model for their next ad campaign. Blaine had politely turned the job down, reciting conflict-of-interest rules, but suggested that he book Kurt for the ad campaign. Although Kurt is now working behind the scenes at Bellerose, he might like the money on offer for this one-off photo shoot. Blaine returns to the issue’s stats, but his concentration is broken when his cell phone starts to ring.

Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl… With yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there…

“Sam! You’re up pretty early given that it’s 9 a.m. in New York.”

“I’m going surfing this morning, dude. When I woke up, I checked my e-mails, and I received one from the Boutique Bellerose.”

“And?”

“Kurt is coming to LA! He’s going to be here a week before the opening to help set up the boutique and fit the clothes on the models before the show. What do I say when I see him? Does he know you’re coming to LA?”

“Sam, that is fantastic news! I wasn’t sure whether Kurt would be in LA or not. No, don’t tell Kurt that I’ll be there. I want to surprise him.”

*****

“So let me get this straight. You’re going to LA for the opening of the Bellerose Boutique, the exact same fashion house that your ex -  but not really ex – works in Paris. You don’t want me to join you because you’ll be spending your free time with Sam, and you’ll be too busy taking care of Mercedes at the opening. Kurt will be there and you don’t know when you’re coming back to New York City. You’re going to decide after the opening… After seeing Kurt, I presume.”

Blaine meekly nods and bows his head. It sounds even worse when Connor puts it like that. Blaine isn’t sure what to say. Fortunately, the coffee house is pretty busy and no-one notices them tucked away into the corner.

“Do I factor into any of that? Or your life for that matter?”

Blaine doesn’t dare look up at Connor and see the expression on his face. Blaine can tell by the bitterness in Connor’s tone that he’s not happy.

“Don’t answer that, Blaine. I’m not sure I could handle it. Look, you were honest with me from the start about Kurt. I thought that you were getting over him, but obviously, you’re not.”

“I’m sorry, Connor. It’s not quite like that. Kurt and I were never boyfriends, but he’s very special to me. I haven’t seen him in seven months and I would like to think that we can become friends again.”

Connor picks up his coffee stirrer and starts playing with it.

“Are you really that deep in denial, Blaine? You’re in love with Kurt. Always have been - ever since you first met him - and always will be. Do yourself a favor and admit it to yourself.”

“B-but…”

“But nothing, Blaine. I think we’re done here. We could have been something great, you know?”

“I know, Connor. You’re a pretty terrific guy. I thought I could do this – do us – but I can’t. And you’re right -  I’m still in love with Kurt. I need to see if I can make things right between us. I never meant to do this to you. I really, really care about you and I wanted it to work out. The truth is, I don't know what I'm doing. I’m so sorry. I…”

Connor places his hand over Blaine’s to get his attention.

“Stop rambling, Blaine. It’s adorable but I don’t think I can listen to any more. You go off to LA and see what happens. But don’t call me unless you’re sure you want me. I can’t keep sharing you with Kurt.”

Connor abruptly gets up and gives Blaine a kiss on the cheek, before quickly leaving the coffee house. Blaine feels horrible that things ended like this, that he hurt someone so nice. However, Blaine is relieved that it’s over and that he can concentrate on getting Kurt back.

*****

“Blaine, I can see your body practically humming with excitement. You spent all yesterday planning your LA wardrobe. I’ve never seen you fully packed a week before a trip.”

“I can’t help it, Amy. I’m going to see Kurt again. I’m finding it hard to concentrate on anything else. Friday can’t come soon enough.”

“Why don’t you do something with all that energy? I haven’t heard you play the piano since you found out that Kurt will be in LA.”

Blaine nods and quickly goes to the piano. After doing his warm-up exercises and playing Debussy’s Clair de Lune, he walks over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looks down onto Central Park. A few raindrops start to fall, but it doesn’t dampen Blaine’s mood. All he can think about is that rainy weekend when he was he was lying on the couch with Kurt and watching James Bond movies.

He starts humming, and soon the tune becomes a chorus. He rushes back to the piano and plays around with music. He then starts to sing about spring days, falling in love and dreams… And, of course, butterflies. He sets up his mic, and when he’s satisfied with the song, he records it. Records the first song of hope about Kurt.

*****

“I had to call with you with the news. Meagan gave me the forecasted figures for the Monarch House, and it will start breaking even next month.”

“I wasn’t expecting that to happen so fast, Dad. I had put away cash to support it for the first twelve months. How did that happen?”

“Meagan and I met with the Social Work Department chairperson from Ohio State University. She applauded our efforts and is 100% behind the Foundation. Starting next month, there will be seniors doing their field placement at the Monarch House. Since they will be given course credits for working, the staffing is easier, and they don’t need to be paid. The chairwoman also said that starting next semester, they’ll include a case study of the Monarch House in the junior year coursework to get ideas on how to fundraise and support the community further.”

“But how will we cover other costs like electricity, the Internet and stuff?”

“The grant from the Legacy Fund came through to cover most of the running costs. We also have donations from people and businesses in Westerville. There’s a lot more support for the Monarch House than we had thought there would be. Meagan is looking into what other grants might be available.”

“Wow. I guess we better start thinking about what happens next. I wasn’t expecting to open another Monarch House until I got my next bonus in January. We can use this time to put together a blueprint for future Monarch Houses and do some fundraising.”

“I have news on this front as well. Burt Hummel has contacted me and he is very keen to have a Monarch House open in Lima – something about wishing it had been there for Kurt when he was in high school. Anyways, he’s lined up some donations from local businesses and is making a lot of noise with the Lima City Council.”

“I hope Burt realizes how much money is needed to open a Monarch House,” Blaine comments.

“Burt does know, and the donations so far don’t cover the property purchase. However, I can help as well.”

“What do you mean?”

“I checked with HR at work and the company will match my charitable donations. I’m selling the fund I set up for Cooper’s college education. He’s now in his late 30s and I think we both know he won’t be going to college. With the matching donation, I think we’ll have enough money for a couple of Monarch Houses.”

“You would do that for me?” Blaine whispers, desperately trying to hold back his tears.

“Yes, I would. But it’s not only for you. I can already see how the Monarch House is helping people in Westerville. Besides, I like working with you on the project. It’s a whole lot better than fixing up a car, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, that it is.”

“Great. I’ll fix a time with Burt when we can look at properties for a potential Monarch House in Lima.”

*****

“Don’t just stand there. Come in,” Sebastian barks, after his assistant knocks on his office door.

“I thought you would be interested in this newsfeed. Bellerose Boutique is opening its first store in LA. They are having a high-profile event next Saturday.”

“And why would this interest me? French boutiques are a dime a dozen in the US,” Sebastian retorts.

“Kurt Hummel works at Bellerose Boutique. I phoned the boutique manager in LA, and Kurt will be there. When I asked about the guest list, the manager confirmed that Blaine Anderson will be attending as well.”

“Why didn’t you say so earlier? This reunion looks like it could be interesting. Get me a ticket to the Bellerose Boutique opening.”

Author’s notes

Sam’s ringtone – Copacabana by Barry Manilow

Next up: The Bellerose Boutique opening in LA. Blaine and Kurt see each other for the first time in eight months! It will be posted on Saturday. I think you will like this chapter :) :)

[skypalacearchitect]

is that an outfit redesign u see? yes. yes it is. im just having fun after remembering my delight for this game

now im brimming with ideas for outfits for my fav characters of this game

man if only i finished it in time for ff anniversary. that would have been cool lol. but i didnt even know it was anniversary! ;(

also just in case ITS NOT A SHIP its A FRIENDSHIP!!!! born on a battlefield for their world because they were thrown into a fight together

or more like ben is intimidated by this much younger than him knd agent because she is cooler than him and tries desperately to prove that

he is just as cool and abby is like: u might have saved universe several times and probably would have made a great knd operative but u

r such a dork mr ben 10. in other words ben wont survive the burns because abby would see through him in a second

i will never get over how FusionFall put those two together to be in a tutorial introduction, because they were both 'cool kids' of that era, but objectively Ben10 is a dorky overly dramatic cool kinda vibe while Numbuh 5 is just the coolest kid on the block but is chill about it vibe. they would indeed make a fun battle team-up

also why tf Ben just fistfights his way out of his battles when his watch aint working, use a bazooka or smth dude smh

[lockdownuk]

Lockdown Diary Part 3

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.

Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online.

Day 61: Writing this in the afternoon on day 62. An exercise driven day. Two walks and stair climb as usual plus I popped round Jeff’s early evening. First time I’ve been to his house, 1 Garden Row, Elmington. It’s further than I thought so, with walking there an back, I managed a daily total of 14km. It was good to see him and have a social (but social-distanced) beer. When I got home, @9:45pm, I made thai green chicken curry, watch The Report (a great, if worrying film) and then TikTok-ed until gone 5am!

Day 62: Typing this on day 64! Beer round Karen’s. Missed Sam’s quiz.

Day 63: Typing this on day 64! Beer round Karen’s. Again! Well, it is bank holiday Monday! Had dirty pizza for tea and watched The Heat. Again! It is the most piss funny film.

Day 64: Well, I have been feeling guilty about treatung the bank holiday w/e l;ike a bank holiday w/e. It’s dawned on me that that guilt is way too self-disiciplned. I got up about midday, usual two walks and stair climb but that’s it. I need to clean the house from top to bottom, get on top of my online courses, get the garden done, get the car fixed, go shopping…fucking hell - if only I had the time…

Day 65: Today I swapped Amazon prime free trial for about the 5th time in my life. Same card and address - will they get wind of my skullduggery. This is all so I can finish watching Hunters and catch Homecoming S2. I went shopping at Asda near Raunds. I wish I hadn’t, it’s no good for a comprehensive shop. Received an email from RCI inviting me to a Zoom meeting with Pal Mulcahy for a business update. I fear the worst. And it’s at 10:00am, FFS!

Day 66: Logged in an attended zoom forum with Paul Mulcahy and over 250 RCI staff this morning. The message was that there is going to be redundancies. I expected this and expected to fall victim. All staff that are going to be put through cionsultation would be contacted today. I however wasn’t! Very, very surpised. meanwhile, Nick Reilly asked to connect via LinkedIn (including become a LinkedIn staff team member -  that’s new to me so I’ll see what it is but I accepted the invitation) Later, I WhatsApp-ed him and asked who has been affected from IT. All he could tell me was no one on Jon Rodger’s team is under threat. Also, Mark C emailed - I’ll respond tomorrow. I got up at 09:00ish and had my mornming walk before the 10:00am meeting. I am now, at 09:30pm, fucking knackered. Dinner and then bed, methinks but not before one more episdoe of Hunters!

Day 67: Typing on Day 68. Got pretty drunk last night. I’ve got blisters from walking (new boots) so I don’t think I’ll walk tomorrow (well, today!).

Day 68: I did fuck all today. Got up after 1pm, no walking. I did manage to clean the bathroom (and smash my little mirror) and do my 26 stair climb. I am typing at 9pm and I feel whacked!

Day 69: I have an abscess. It’s not too painful (today) but I am going to call the dentist tomorrow (Monday). I think antibiotics are in order. I watched a film, which I actually started yesterday, called The Voices starring Ryan Reynolds, Gemma Arteton and Anna Kendrick. Fuuuuuuuuuuuucking weird. The closing credits are the most bizarre, in context, I’ve ever seen. But, in general, a very good film. Back to normal exercise regime today plus hovered the hall and stairs. Get me. It’ll be interetingh to see my Google Fit figures for May tomorrow.

Day 70: Contacted the dentist who advised salt water rinsing and ibuprofen. But, tbf, it’s a lot better today and the swelling has gone right down. The dentist I called was the Oundle House (Rodericks) one. I was not hopeful since last time I saw them they referred me to their Northampton clinic for root canal work which was quoted at over £600. However, the dentist was very nice, had my x-ray to hand from that last visit and seemed more interested in making sure I’m OK than gaining a paying customer. He still wants to see me when possible though! I must mention the weather. It has been glorious weather nearly every day throughout May (it’s June 1st today). Seriously sunny and like a holiday every day. The news mentioned it today - the level of sunshine throughout the transition from spring to summer is unprecedented, apparently. My T shirt tan is, quite frankly, ridiculous!

Day 71: Today’s ‘must mention’ is what’s going on in the US and it’s not particularly related to Trump. There was a black man killed while under arrest. George Floyd died Monday 25th May (8 days ago) A policeman, who knelt on his neck for minutes while he complained of not being able to breathe, has been charged with murder. Now there are riots and curfews and military intervention all over the country. It’s similar to the English riots of 2011. It’s worrying, sad, scary and not what the fight against the pandemic needs. Most of all, it’s racism rearing its ugly head yet again. I’ve had a normal-ish day. received an email from Jim checking in, talked to a recruiter about a promising job lead (although the hours are 8-5 which I am not happy about), talked to Barry across the road and sent Barzzy a WhatsApp. And I logged in Shaw Academy and started lesson one of module 2 of web Design. It’s been a while, so long overdue, but I only did about 15 minutes. Must try harder / do better! As I type, late (10:10pm) I have dinner cooking and a strange pain in my left side and am in the middle of No Country for Old Men. Don’t think I’ve seen it since the cinema (13 years!)

Day 72: As soon as (well, within a couple of days) I mention the weather, it turns. It’s rained a little and is a lot cooler (15° rather than mid-20s). Much better for walking, I have to say. I finished Hunters today (Amazon Prime series). While I enjoyed it, it got too surreal at the end. It is loosely based on the real story of Nazi hunters in the US in 1977 but the straying from loosely based to down-right ridiculous fiction annoyed me. If it goes to S2, I will watch it, however. Received some of my rental deposit back today (the law changed so that only 5 weeks rent can be demanded as deposit). Over £600. Nice.

Day 73: I made a short video for Marc and Clare’s 26th wedding anniversary. I ‘dressed up’ for it. I enjoyed doing it and I think it was appreciated.

Day 74: Typing on Day 75 for no other reason than I couldn’t be bothered on day 74! I received a letter either today or the day before (well, yesterday or the previous day!) from Mr Minos at the eye clinic informing me that, while there is some stuff going on in both eyes (garnered from the photo scans done at the last hospital appointment), he wants to see me in three months. Always a refief when that happens. Been getting into two series on Amazon: Alex Rider and Modern Love. One is a male Hanna, the other is soppy affairs of the heart based on real life stories (from essays written in the NY Times). Both enjoyable for totally different reasons.

Day 75: Lazyish day. Well, not really, just that I only went for one walk, alebit 6km andI got pissed on. Wehn the rain hit, it was also fucking freezing! Some of the clouds were stunning today, made for great photos. As I type, it’s 21:12, I’m listening the wonderful Phoebe Bridgiers. Now, I’m gonna make some tea and sup a few ales, I reckon.

Day 76: Done lots of walking today (over 13,000 steps) I made sausage casserole with too much chilli (scotch bonnet and birdeye). I had an online (fb) debate with Sam over whether the George Floyd murder was a racial.

Day 77: Received a new (used) wing mirror for the car. £18 with delivery, I reckon that’s a bargain. I cashed in £20 from Prolific as well, so I’m satisfied at the financial full-circle. Dropped the car off at Barnwell (Nene Valley Body Shop) and walked back - 7km. Just about to dive into tea - finishing the blazing hot sausage casserole from yesterday. Then I’m going to do some more Rubik’s cube practice with my recently acquired GoCube.

Day 78: Lots of daily walking, 26 stair climb, press-up and late nights watching TikTok (gone 3am this morning) are making for a constantly knackered Tim Stubbs. Today I made veg soup and cooked up some meatballs. Both are delish. How did I ever to learn how to conjure up such stuff? The Rubik’s cube learning is coming along except that I need good daylight to distinguish between the yellow and white faces on the flipping thing!

Day 79: Listening to Radio 6 most the day and the news is making for dire listening. Forecast of severe recession, especially if there is a second peak of the virus, which I think there will be. Plus, an offshoot of the George Floyd murder and the #BlackLivesMatter movement, institutions and town councils are being lobbied by campaigners to remove statues of anyone associated with things like slavery (one was toppled in Bristol at the w/e) and rename buildings etc. that were named after historical characters with any links to something that now is deemed wrong or offensive. I agree with it but it’s not pleasant to hear amongst other bleak news. Walked to Barnwell to collect my car - front trim reseated and new wing mirror fitted, £20 - bargain (I source the replacement wing mirror). But, also, forked out £165 on car tax! Cleaned the lounge from top to bottom. Knackering!

Day 80: Chatted with Dad and Rita - he’s pissed off with the slavery backlash but otherwise they are both OK. I saw Baz in the Tesco queue where I mentioned my disgust at the Thursday market being allowed (I found I could not maintain 2m at all times just walking to Tesco’s!) and that I really don’t want to catch Covid19 as I will probably die. Maybe a bit dramatic but he messaged me later today to say he’d been thinking on what I said and offered to shop for me. I replied that I am OK to shop but am scared at how people are taking things so much less seriously than when lockdown started yet the virus is still out there just as it was then! I am very touched at his massage. I thoroughly cleaned the bedroom and changed the bedclothes today. House work really knackers me out!

Day 81: Spare room cleaned today. Not much else to type about. It’s Friday, I making curried mince and I don’t feel like a beer. How I’ve changed!

Day 82: I did have beers last night. Ended up going to bed with daylight and dawn chorus for company. Today, when I woke, gone 1pm, I have been greeted by what can only be described as thoroughly depressing news from every quarter. This includes violence in the capital, further virus outbreak in Beijing. Fog’s political posts on FB make for depressing (but vaild) reading. I’m feeling thoroughly fed up today. Not even music can lift my mood…

…but, I am currently listening to Craig Charles on BBCR6 and, I have to say, he’s putting in quite an exceptional effort - there may be hope that my mood might lift, even at gone 8pm! I might have a beer or two and grab something postivity and enjoyment from the day after all.

Day 83: Another late one last night but up before noon today. Started watching something called Condor on Sky One. It’s OK - there’s stuff I wanna waytch on Amazon Prime but, more often than not, it keeps telling me there’s ‘a problem’ when I try to play anything. Pissing me off. I just checked and I have two weeks of the initial 12 of furlough to go. I shall started asking the questions about what might happen on the Connections website.

Day 84: Typing this on Day 85. On the way back from dropping off some shoes for Sean Davies at his brother’s (martin) I met Karen and she said why not pop round for a beer so I did. Certainly not used to a drink on a Monday so that, and the genral upheaval to my evening, while good fun and a nice change, put pay to my usual diary entry! I sorted Amazon Prime out by leaving the TV turned off for over an hour. Day 85: Tim did the garden today and it looks great. The pipes in the bathroom have been knocking loudly, on and off, for a couple of weeks now. Last night, they were so loud that today I took it upon myself to resolve it or ring Woodfords. So, having turned off the water, run the taps dry to get rid of any trapped air and then turned the water back on slowly, I discoved it’s the cistern and its pipes. Woodfords are arranging Corvee to visit. Meanwhile, leaving the water turned off at least stops the noise which is, otherwise, costant and unbearable! I emailed HR a couple of days ago about what’s happening in a couple of weeks time in terms of furlough when the 12 weeks will be up. Sue Cockimngs got back to me attaching an email Deryn sent on 15th May which I never received. Basically, they’ll extend furlough if need be and an update should be forthcoming late May/early June. Well, that time has passed, so who knows what is going to happen. The furlough scheme (CJRS) has been changed by the govenment, I’ve read, and it looks like any new people would have to have been furloughed by June 10th (it’s the 16th today) so no furlough rotation, which is annoying. The CJRS ends 1st October with employer contributions required from 1st August - that’s D-Day as far as I am concerned….so job hunting will have to step up a notch! Day 86: Pete’s birthday and he bought himself the same speaker as me. When I asked if it lived up to his expectations he mentioned it’s better through WiFi than Bluetooth. That confused me as I haven’t got WiFi available on mine…..long story short, I bought the wrong fucking speaker. I got a AudioPro AddOn T10 instead of C10. To say I am fucked off is an understatement. To think I was so pleased at the cheap price I paid. Now I feel like I have wasted  €200. Bollocks.

Day 87: Finished Alex Rider last night. Another series that started off so well and ended a litte weak but, overall, not bad. I’ve started keeping strange meal times…lunch very late (4pm) and dinner really late (11pm). I need to sort it ‘cos it’s playing havoc with my sugar levels. I had a huge hypo while having my second walk today, second day on the trot that’s happened. My late dinner was Chinese chicked curry with a quarter of a scotch bonnet and two birdeye chillies. Delish.

Day 88: I have managed to be bitten yesterday or the day before on one of my walks. There are strange, itchy lumps on my right inner forearm. And I do mean itchy. I trimmed my sideburns today, I was very pissed off with them. My hair looks just a little less shit. I did a shop at Tesco in Corby today. Mainly booze as follows: 20 cans Sam Miguel £18 18 cans Stella £15 20 bottles Bud £10 8 cans Tyskie £9 3 lrg bottles Warsteiner £5 £57 Bargain.

Day 89: Lazy day. One short walk and usual stair climb. Howard and Sue popped round to give me a pressie - bottle of Monkey Shoulder. I’m building up quite a collection of whisky!

Day 90: Dad called and we chatted for an hour or so. I had to apologise for not sending a father’s day card! Dan messaged me and offered to pay for a pizza delivery which I declined.

Football has started again this past week…Prem and Championship only. L1 and L2 season was cut short and Posh missed out on the play-offs by one place. As I type, Everton v Liverpool is on Sky Sports on a Sunday evening - it’s very strange with no crowd. There’s crowd noise being played thorugh the tannoy.

[seriouslyhooked]

A Pirate’s Perfect Birthday

Short Post 6-B fic where Emma throws a party for Killian (and gives him the best possible gift). Also available on FF here.

A/N: Hello everyone! Surprise! I know I am on vacation AND to top it all off my laptop died earlier this week (so I am dealing with a whole lot of denial about the work I lost) BUT I could not let today come and go without some CS fluff. Because I have a number of readers with birthdays today (hi Jenn!) and coming up, it seemed fitting to write something new, and since last year I did a birthday for Emma, this year I’m making one for Killian. . Anyway hope you guys enjoy and thanks for reading!

Staring at the fully decorated and brightly lit living room within her and Killian's home, Emma had to admit that things were going better than she'd at first anticipated. 

When she originally came up with the idea of a celebration in Killian's honor done in the style and with the purpose of a birthday, she'd had understandable concerns. After all her husband, fond as he was of celebrating her and the other members of their family and friends in town, wasn't usually predisposed to moments celebrating him or providing him with what he felt for were undue accolades. For a man who was so charming and who often played at roguish swagger Killian would rather not be the center of attention at the end of the day. But Emma knew in her heart that Killian more than deserved to be celebrated and that even if he resisted today's activities, she would be sharing a gift with him that would make it all worth it.

"Are you sure you don't want to go a little bigger with the decorations?" Her mother asked in a genuine tone, pulling Emma from her quiet musings as she did. "You know it's not too late for us to embellish the theme a little bit. We could do something with sailing or the ocean or anything really... Oh I know! Pirates of the Caribbean! Killian’s seen those movies, right?"

Emma smiled her mother's ideas knowing that Snow meant the best when she put forth plans for an extension of the party's merriment, but if she gave her mother too much leeway then Emma would run the risk of ruining the party before it even began. If they went too flashy or too big that simply wouldn't be a party for Killian and that would be a shame, especially when Emma believed that she had found the perfect balance that would make this party both enjoyable to Killian and to all of their eager guests as well. It was old world meets new world in many ways but there would be good food and music and even a cake with rum infused frosting for dessert.

"Everything looks perfect as is, Mom. You've already done such a wonderful job and you've been a big help."

That response allowed Emma with a way out that didn't hurt her mother’s feelings, and she hoped that her Mom would believe her praise because Emma meant every word. The truth was Emma wasn't exactly cut out for party planning and none of these little details and thoughts had ever mattered much to her or ever came naturally. In this marriage there was one partner who was predominantly the thoughtful one with grand gestures and big surprises aplenty and that was Killian, but now Emma was trying to take a cue from his playbook so to speak.

"I think this is incredibly sweet Emma," Belle said as she approached from the kitchen where she had been getting much of the food for the evening plated and ready to go. "And it’s also very symbolic. After all, this is the anniversary of when he came back to you, right?"

Emma nodded, unsurprised that her and Killian's friend had figured out Emma’s underlying intentions. One year ago today in the midst of some of the worst pain Emma had ever endured, where her heart has been broken and all hope seemed lost, light returned to her world once more when Killian was brought back to her through a magic too strong and too powerful to fully comprehend. That day had been the start of a whole new chance for both Emma and Killian to do this whole true love thing right and they had made the most of that opportunity living every day like it might be their last but hoping all the while that they would have the happily ever after that was promised to all heroes. In many ways both of them had been reborn on that day, and so it only seems fitting that a day like that should be cherished and remembered and that on this day Emma should try and make her husband see just how much he meant to her.

"It is, yeah. But it's crazy to think how different our lives are now. We might never be ‘normal’ but this whole not constantly fighting the forces of evil thing... Well it’s pretty amazing."

"It's nothing less than you both deserve," Emma's father quipped from the other end of the room. "I think this family and this town have had just about enough trouble to last a lifetime."

Everyone easily agreed with David's shrewd analysis and Emma felt a surge of warmth  in her chest at the thought that everyone she loved and everyone she cared for truly had found peace in the aftermath of the final battle. Each person here had played a role in Emma’s being strong enough to overcome her fate, but the one person who had done the most and whose love had shown throughout every moment no matter how dark with unwavering strength was Killian. He had been her rock when times were hard and he had been her faith when all hope seemed lost, and Emma knew that he would always continue to be her biggest fan and most adamant supporter as long as they lived.

At that moment the front door flew open and in a rush that was unexpected Emma watched as Henry came clamoring through with an earnest look on his face. For a second fear overtook her and there was a return to the old worries of the past. A look like that might mean there was some big bad knocking on their door poised to wreak havoc or that someone might be in grave danger, but then Emma noticed that though Henry seemed frazzled he wasn't truly upset and her gut told her that whatever he was about to say she could handle.

"Henry what's wrong?" Snow asked quickly but Henry's eyes stayed on Emma. 

"We've got a slight hiccup in our plan. I know I was supposed to bring Killian after we were finished sailing on the Jolly, but he wanted to stay behind and short of saying you were in trouble I don't think there was anything I could do to get him to come."

“Well this is typical. We throw the pirate a party and he’s too wrapped up in that precious boat of his to even come,” Regina said with attempted sarcasm that Emma could plainly see through. No matter what she said, Regina had grown to consider Killian a friend and she did care about him underneath all of that dry wit.

“I tried to get him here, I really did. I even floated the idea of letting him make that mackerel stuff he’s always talking about for dinner, but he didn’t bite.”

Hearing more of what had happened and just how much enticement Killian had denied to avoid coming home made Emma smile despite herself and she began to piece together parts of the puzzle that might escape the others in the room. If she had to guess Emma would say that Killian, smart and ever observant as he was, was likely onto them and trying to stall, but there was a way to get him here and Emma knew the time had come to make her move. 

"That's all right kid I've got it from here," Emma promised as she gave Henry a hug before saying goodbye to the others and heading out the door in search of the docks. She chose to walk instead of using magic and the journey was quick and the weather outside was mild enough that it was more than pleasant, but the best part undoubtedly was when she was finally aboard the Jolly Roger and was reunited with the man she loved.

"So... where you planning on returning to us land bound folk any time soon, or is this your move to get the hell out of dodge?” Emma asked after quietly sneaking up to the deck and watching Killian for a few seconds where he stood at his perch at the ship’s edge. When her voice sounded out between them he turned immediately and Emma could see even through the clear intensity he was grappling with that he was relieved to be reunited with her again. It was just the way he always was, and that quiet but ever present concern was an amazing and unspoken reassurance that Emma was loved completely by her husband and that nothing would ever change that.

“You joke, love, but you know there’s no leaving for me. Not without you at least.” Emma let out a light laugh at the thought of them leaving every care and responsibility behind them for a life on the high seas before stepping forward to take the hand he offered willingly and feeling that spark of connection as soon as they were joined. “What do you say we set sail and go wherever the winds take us?”

“I say it sounds pretty perfect as long as I’m with you, but tonight’s not so good. We’ve got plans.”

"Aye, I know about the party, Swan,” Killian announced, as if somehow he’d been keeping that little fact secret when his awareness was written all over his face.

"I figured as much when you gave Henry the slip with no clear reason," Emma confessed, prompting a surprised look from Killian before understanding infiltrated his piercing blue eyes and a softness returned to his features once more. Instinctively he pulled her into his arms wrapping her up in his embrace, and Emma welcomed that, stepping into him and into the place that had come to feel most like home to her in the whole wide world.

"It's not that I don't appreciate the gesture, my love, because I do, and timing it so precisely with my coming back from the Underworld was brilliant on your part. As I’ve said before my life truly began anew when I was given another chance to be by your side, and it’s as good a day as any to be grateful for. I just... Well truth is I've never had one of these, at least not one I can remember."

Hearing that (even though Emma had anticipated that might be the case) stung in a painful way and her heart went out to Killian as she thought about the stories she had heard from his less than happy and wholesome childhood and the largely unfortunate years that followed. They were very alike in this, in how life had robbed them of so many simple pleasures a person should know, but now Emma was hoping to rectify some of those old wounds and also share new joys that would grant them more of those miraculous second chances their love was prone to creating. 

"There's no better time to try it out than now," Emma offered as her hand came to cup his cheek and she smiled at him and the feelings of rightness only he could bring into her life. 

"Oh really? And why is that?" Killian inquired, teasing a bit more as he did and allowing himself to leave behind his earlier worrying. It was a beautiful sight for Emma to see him do so too, for she knew how hard it was to battle ghosts of lives past and she was always in awe of Killian’s willingness to try even when the going was tough.

“Because I'm hoping we will have at least another sixty years together and it’s only fair that we both get a birthday to celebrate," Emma murmured, picturing in her mind’s eye where they would be ten, then twenty, and fifty years down the line. The visions were hazy of course, and they were open to changing since she couldn’t really see the future, but the one thing Emma was certain of was that she and Killian would be a team and they’d be happy. "And besides, this year I have the perfect gift to give you.”

“You needn’t have troubled yourself, Swan. You know the best thing in the world is you. What else could possibly compare to calling you mine?”

His words were touching and heartfelt and Emma let them wash over her skin as she felt the rumble of his lilted voice flow over her as well. Tears pricked at her eyes and she could feel the swell of emotion inside her brought not only by the good fortune she was about to share, but by this unique and remarkable man who loved her so. Killian didn’t try to be perfect by any means, and he was clear with her and with everyone that he was only human and that he would make mistakes, but for Emma he was every ideal made real. He loved her with everything in him, brought passion and joy into her world every single day, and he looked at her as he did now - like she was the rarest gem of all - so often that it was almost commonplace. But this feeling in her heart would never be common, and the magic they’d found together would never dull in any way, especially not in the sight of what she had to tell him now.

“Maybe finding out you’re going to be a father?”  Emma whispered, her hand taking Killian’s in hers and bringing it over her tummy that hadn’t yet begun to show but was destined to do so soon since right now a little girl or boy was growing bigger and bigger with each passing day.

“I’m going to - a father – you mean – you’re – I mean we… Swan?!”

The mumbled words and incoherent babbling was so unlike Killian in every way, but to Emma it was beyond endearing, and watching the whole host of reactions that crossed his face was brilliant. He went through every phase she’d been in since finding out she was pregnant, excitement, glee, a little bit of trepidation, but mostly there was this love infused thankfulness that only someone who had lost everything before could know. The two of them had seen the darkest depths of what life could offer, and so it made this moment where things were so totally and completely good all the more wonderful.

“Yup. You and I have roughly six months to get ready for a new addition to the Jones family, and then you’ll get a new, slightly less ‘colorful’ moniker: Daddy.”

That was evidently the final straw for her husband, and the next thing Emma knew she was being pulled closer, her lips crashing against Killian’s as he kissed her with so much feeling and emotion that it superseded all other things. It was heated and yet sweet all at once, intimate but unabashed in its publicness, and truthfully Emma couldn’t tell where she ended and where Killian began because she was so wrapped up in him that she lost the ability to decipher anything but that she loved him and that she was really and gloriously happy.

The rest of the world faded away for a while then as one kiss turned to two and then three and then more than Emma could count, and all that remained in the meantime was the two of them, both thrilled and elated at the new adventure they had waiting for them and this next chapter of their lives that would be so worth all that hard work and fighting they’d put in the past few years. This was a part of that whole happy beginning they were after all along, and with Killian by her side Emma knew she was more than ready for this new challenge and this next step they would take together.

“Every day you give me more and more reason to love you, Emma, and today has been no different,” Killian said when they finally pulled apart, their foreheads resting against each other as Emma closed her eyes and just soaked in this perfect moment with her one true love. “I don’t know how a man can possibly be this blessed, but I swear to you this child will know just as you do that there is nothing and no one above our family to me. This, right here, is the most important thing, and it always, always will be.”

The power of those words for Emma, a woman who had at one time had considered herself to be nothing more than a lost little girl, was immense, and again those happy tears fell, spilling over her cheeks before they were wiped away by Killian as he whispered more words of affection and love. In response the only thing Emma could think to do was tell him that she loved him too and then kiss him senseless all over again, waiting party guests be damned.

Eventually, however, the two of them did face the music, arriving at the party and telling everyone the good news (because Killian couldn’t bear to keep the secret). There was, of course, the obvious hope and joy Emma had expected from their family and friends, and in the end the night was a great one that was more than worthy of remembering because of all the laughs and enjoyment that was had amongst them all. And every year from that point on when that same date rolled around, Emma didn’t hear any complaints from Killian about his ‘birthday,’ because he agreed that there was more than enough cause to celebrate and more than enough blessings to keep the Jones family happy and grateful forever more.

Post-Note: So there we have it, another fic where I give Emma and Killian more pieces of the happily ever after puzzle I am so hoping they manage to find. I truly don’t think I can write enough of these, but I will certainly try in the absence of seeing it on the show itself. Anyway I hope that this chapter found all of you in the midst of good days. Thank you all for reading and happy birthday to my lovely readers celebrating in the coming weeks!