#the police officer: you were in a collision?

[leham-n-daavocado]

George: Committed yes. Convicted no.

THIS MAN CANT LIE WHY ARE THEY DOING THIS TO HIM 💀💀

[rafeskai]

Life as We Know It — Rafe Cameron

Chapter One

Two opposites must navigate love, loss, and unexpected parenthood to discover the meaning of family.

Summary: When tragedy strikes, two very different individuals find their lives unexpectedly intertwined as they become the guardians of an orphaned child. As they navigate the challenges of co-parenting, balancing careers, and confronting their pasts, they discover that family can form in the most surprising ways. Through heartfelt moments and unexpected humor, they explore what it means to build a life together—one step at a time.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Character deaths & angst.

Author's Notes: Inspired by the movie "Life as We Know It"! Let's pretend Rafe, Sarah, and John B. had a good relationship in this one, okay?

Masterlist: Here

Your phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, the shrill ring cutting through the early evening quiet. You were in the middle of folding laundry, your small apartment illuminated by the fading sunlight streaming through the windows. It was a peaceful, mundane moment—until it wasn’t.

You wiped your hands on a towel before glancing at the screen. Unknown Number. Normally, you’d let it go to voicemail, but something about the pit forming in your stomach made you swipe to answer.

“Hello?”

“Is this [Y/N]?” a man’s voice asked, calm but with an edge that made your chest tighten.

“Yes, this is she. Who’s calling?”

“This is Officer Langley with the Outer Banks Police Department. I... I’m afraid I have some difficult news.”

The world around you seemed to blur. You clutched the phone tighter, your knuckles turning white. “What happened?”

“There’s been an accident,” he said. “Sarah Cameron and John B. Routledge were involved in a car collision earlier this evening. Neither survived. You were one of their emergency contact.”

The words didn’t make sense. They felt foreign, like they belonged to someone else’s story. Your knees buckled, and you stumbled to the couch, sinking into the cushions.

“What about Willa, the daughter?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

There was a pause, and then, “She’s unharmed. The baby was with a sitter at the time. But there’s... another matter we need to discuss.”

You barely heard the rest of his explanation, your mind spinning with the weight of what he’d just told you. Sarah and John B. were gone. Gone.

When the officer mentioned the will, your thoughts screeched to a halt. “I don’t understand,” you said, your voice hoarse. “What do you mean ‘co-guardian’?”

“They named you and Rafe Cameron, her brother, as Willa’s legal guardians,” the officer repeated.

The line went quiet as you tried to process the impossibility of his words. Rafe Cameron? The same Rafe who couldn’t string together a week of good decisions if his life depended on it?

“Is... is he aware of this?” you managed.

“We’ve been trying to reach him. He’s next on my list.”

As if on cue, somewhere across town, Rafe Cameron was staring at his own buzzing phone with a mix of irritation and curiosity. The caller ID was unfamiliar, and he let it ring a few extra times before finally swiping to answer.

“Who is this?” he barked, already annoyed.

“Mr. Cameron, this is Officer Langley with the Outer Banks Police Department. I need to inform you—”

“If this is about the stupid noise complaint, I wasn’t even here last night,” Rafe interrupted, pacing his living room.

“It’s not about that.” The officer’s tone was grave, and Rafe froze mid-step.

“What’s going on?”

“There’s been an accident. Your sister, Sarah, and her partner, John B., were involved in a fatal car crash earlier this evening.”

Rafe’s mouth went dry. He sank onto the edge of the couch, gripping the phone so tightly it felt like it might crack. “What... what do you mean, ‘fatal’?”

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” the officer continued, his voice gentle. “They didn’t survive the collision.”

Rafe’s world tilted. His first instinct was disbelief—this had to be a mistake. But the silence that followed the officer’s words told him otherwise.

“And the baby?” Rafe asked after a long pause, his voice low and strained.

“Willa is safe. She wasn’t with them during the accident,” the officer said. “But there’s something else. According to their will, you and Ms. [Y/N] are named as her co-guardians.”

“What?” Rafe snapped, his disbelief quickly giving way to anger. “That can’t be right. Why would they do that?”

“You’ll need to meet with us to discuss the next steps,” the officer said. “I’ll send over the details.”

Rafe barely heard the rest of the conversation before the call ended. He dropped the phone onto the couch beside him, running both hands through his hair as his mind raced.

Co-guardian? With her?

It wasn’t long before your phone buzzed again, this time with a text from Rafe. His message was short and sharp:

“We need to talk. Now.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The next few hours blurred into a painful haze. You and Rafe found yourselves sitting in the cramped office of the Outer Banks Police Department, a thin folder containing Sarah and John B.'s will resting on the table between you.

The room smelled of coffee and stale air, and the fluorescent lighting above only made everything feel more surreal. You glanced at Rafe from the corner of your eye. He was stiff in the chair beside you, his jaw clenched, eyes red-rimmed but steely.

Officer Langley sat across from you, his expression carefully neutral. Beside him was a lawyer, a sharp-eyed woman in a navy suit who looked as if she’d rather be anywhere else.

“The will is clear,” the lawyer said, her tone crisp and no-nonsense. “Ms. [Y/N] and Mr. Cameron are the appointed co-guardians of Willa Routledge. In the event of Sarah Cameron and John B. Routledge’s passing, the two of you are to assume all parental responsibilities.”

Rafe let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Yeah, that’s great. But let’s be real, you think either of us is qualified to raise a kid?”

“You don’t have a choice,” the lawyer replied without missing a beat. “Unless you want to contest the will, which would result in Willa being placed in temporary foster care until the matter is resolved.”

“No,” you said immediately, your voice firmer than you expected. “That’s not happening.”

Rafe shot you a glance, his eyes narrowing. “And what exactly do you think is going to happen here? You think we’re just gonna team up and play house?”

You didn’t have the energy to argue. “This isn’t about us, Rafe. It’s about Willa. She needs stability, and we’re all she’s got.”

Rafe rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. Whatever. But don’t expect me to know what the hell I’m doing.”

The lawyer nodded, seemingly satisfied. “We’ll arrange for a formal meeting in a few days to finalize the transfer of guardianship. For now, Willa will remain with her current sitter until the two of you are ready to take her home.”

The word home hung heavy in the air, an impossible concept when everything felt so fractured.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The hours that followed were a whirlwind. After leaving the police department, you and Rafe were directed to the funeral home to begin arrangements for Sarah and John B.’s services.

Rafe took the lead, though it was clear the responsibility weighed on him. He stood stiffly in front of the funeral director, nodding silently as they walked through options for caskets, flowers, and the service itself.

“They’d want it simple,” Rafe muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Nothing flashy. Just... something that feels like them.”

You could see the cracks forming in his composure, the grief seeping through despite his best efforts to hold it together.

“I’ll handle the guest list,” you offered softly, hoping to lighten his load in any way you could.

He nodded but didn’t look at you. “Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice tight.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Later, you found yourself sitting in the corner of the funeral home’s waiting area, scrolling through your phone to contact people who needed to know. It was an exhausting task, one that made the reality of the situation sink deeper with every call.

Rafe was pacing the room, his phone pressed to his ear. From the snippets of his conversation, you guessed he was calling his father, Ward.

“No, Dad, I’ve got it under control,” Rafe said, though his tone suggested otherwise. “I don’t need you coming down here and making it about you. Just... send what you need to send and stay out of it.”

The conversation ended with Rafe tossing his phone onto a nearby chair and sitting down heavily. For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the weight of everything pressing down on you like a physical force.

“She didn’t deserve this,” Rafe said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked over at him, surprised by the rawness in his tone. His head was in his hands, and for the first time, he looked utterly broken.

“No,” you agreed softly. “She didn’t. Neither of them did.”

Rafe didn’t respond, and you didn’t push. Grief was a strange, solitary thing, and you knew better than to try to force him to share it.

But as you sat there in the quiet, Willa’s face flashed in your mind—those wide, innocent eyes that didn’t yet understand what she’d lost. And you realized that no matter how fractured things were between you and Rafe, you’d have to find a way to piece them together. For her.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The morning of the funeral was gray and cold, the sky heavy with clouds that mirrored the weight in your chest. The Outer Banks, usually vibrant and alive, seemed subdued, as if the island itself were mourning.

You stood at the back of the small church, clutching Willa to your chest. She was dressed in a tiny black dress that Sarah had once bought “just in case,” her soft curls pinned back with a white bow. She didn’t understand what was happening, her chubby hands reaching for your necklace as if this were just another day.

But it wasn’t.

The pews were packed with people from all corners of the island—friends, family, neighbors, even people who barely knew Sarah and John B. Everyone had come to say goodbye.

At the front of the church, two caskets stood side by side, draped in simple white flowers. The sight of them made your stomach churn, a wave of nausea rolling over you as the reality hit again. They were gone.

Rafe sat in the front row, his shoulders hunched, his hands gripping the edges of the pew. He was flanked by Ward and Rose, both of whom looked perfectly composed, their grief hidden behind practiced masks. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of anger toward them—toward Ward, especially. How could he sit there so calm when Sarah, his daughter, was gone?

The service began with soft hymns, the sound of the organ filling the air. The pastor spoke of love, loss, and legacy, his voice steady but kind. He shared stories of Sarah’s infectious smile and John B.’s unyielding spirit, painting a picture of the lives they’d led and the love they’d left behind.

When it came time for eulogies, Rafe surprised you by standing. He adjusted his tie awkwardly, clearing his throat as he approached the podium.

For a moment, he just stood there, staring out at the crowd, his usual bravado nowhere to be found.

“Sarah wasn’t just my sister,” he began, his voice hoarse. “She was my anchor. She kept me grounded, even when I didn’t deserve it. She believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

He paused, his eyes glistening. “And John B.? He was... he was family. He took care of Sarah, made her happy in a way I couldn’t. He was my brother, even if I never said it out loud.”

His voice cracked, and he gripped the edges of the podium tightly, trying to steady himself. “They didn’t deserve this. They had so much left to give. But... they left us Willa. And I’ll do everything I can to make sure she knows how amazing her parents were.”

Rafe stepped back, his head bowed, and you felt an unexpected lump rise in your throat. For all his flaws, his grief was real, and it was impossible not to feel the depth of his pain.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After the service, the crowd filtered out to the cemetery, where Sarah and John B. would be laid to rest. The air was heavy with the sound of muffled sobs and the soft rustle of the breeze through the trees.

You stood a little apart from the others, bouncing Willa gently to keep her calm. Rafe was nearby, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, his expression unreadable.

As the caskets were lowered into the ground, you felt an ache so deep it seemed to hollow you out. Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t wipe them away. Grief deserved space, and today, there was nothing to do but let it exist.

When the ceremony ended, Rafe approached you, his face pale and drawn. He hesitated for a moment before gesturing to Willa.

“Can I hold her?” he asked, his voice quiet.

You nodded, carefully passing her over. She went willingly, her small hands gripping the lapels of his coat. For a moment, Rafe just stared at her, his features softening in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“She looks like Sarah,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“She does,” you agreed, watching as Willa rested her head against his chest.

In that moment, standing beside the fresh graves of the people you both loved, it became clear that nothing about this would be easy. But as you looked at Rafe holding Willa, you realized that maybe—just maybe—there was hope. For her, you would find a way.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

A few hours after the funeral, the weight of the day still hung heavy in the air as you and Rafe sat in the conference room of the law office. The small table between you seemed to represent the chasm that had always existed between you two—now more evident than ever.

The lawyers—two of them now, both stern-faced and clearly used to handling the messier sides of life—sat across from you, speaking in professional tones about the formalities. Child services was represented by a no-nonsense woman in her mid-forties who seemed to take notes every time either of you shifted in your seat.

Willa, still in your arms, had drifted off to sleep, her tiny breath soft against your chest. She had no idea that her life was being turned upside down today.

“Everything seems to be in order,” one of the lawyers said, flipping through the paperwork in front of him. “Guardianship has been transferred to both of you as per the will, and now, we just need to finalize arrangements for Willa’s immediate care.”

Rafe, who had been largely silent up until this point, suddenly leaned forward. His sharp eyes met the lawyer’s, and his jaw tightened as he spoke.

“We’ll be taking Willa home with us today. Both of us,” he said firmly, his tone brokering no argument.

The child services worker, Ms. Anderson, looked up from her notepad, her brow furrowed. “Mr. Cameron, I understand the circumstances, but we would like to ensure that both of you are prepared for the responsibility of guardianship. Willa’s safety and well-being are paramount. It’s important to assess—”

“I’m prepared,” Rafe cut her off, his voice cold and final. “I’m not asking, I’m telling you. She stays with me.”

The room went quiet for a beat as Ms. Anderson studied him. You could see the flicker of concern in her eyes as she turned to you, silently asking for your input.

You hesitated. Part of you was reluctant to let Willa stay in that house, with Rafe—the person who had been nothing but trouble for years. But the other part of you knew that, for better or worse, you didn’t have many options. You were in this with him now, and if he was willing to take on that responsibility, you couldn’t exactly argue against it.

“She’ll stay with me, too,” you added softly, catching Rafe’s eye. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea to let her stay alone with you, not yet.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened again, but this time, there was a flicker of something else behind his eyes. A flicker of understanding. “Fine. We’ll take her. But we’re doing this together. It’s not just your decision, [Y/N].”

You didn’t argue with him. He was right. This wasn’t just your choice anymore. You shared the responsibility, whether you liked it or not.

Ms. Anderson nodded, taking notes. “We’ll have to conduct an assessment in the next few days, and I’ll be following up regularly. But for now, if both of you are in agreement, Willa can go with you.”

Rafe stood abruptly, crossing the room and grabbing the folder of documents from the lawyer’s desk. “Good. Let’s get this over with.”

As he turned to leave, the lawyer called after him. “Mr. Cameron, please ensure that you maintain contact with child services for further evaluations.”

Rafe gave a terse nod without looking back.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The drive to the Cameron estate was a tense one, the silence thick with unspoken thoughts. You sat in the passenger seat, holding Willa close, her tiny body pressed against you as she slept. Rafe drove, his grip on the steering wheel tight as he focused on the road, the sound of the engine and the occasional rustle of Willa’s breath filling the quiet.

When you pulled up to the house, it felt like a different world. The sprawling estate loomed ahead, the grand, cold structure seeming to mock the chaos of the day. You could feel the heaviness of the house before you even stepped inside. It was too big, too empty. It had always been a symbol of something Rafe wanted, something that didn’t fit with the life you’d grown up with.

But now, it was where Willa was going to stay.

“Welcome home,” Rafe muttered as he parked the car and cut the engine.

You weren’t sure if he meant it sarcastically, or if there was something real underneath the bitterness.

He led the way up the stone steps, unlocking the front door with a swipe of his key. The house felt colder inside, and Willa shifted in your arms as the air conditioned chill wrapped around you. Rafe glanced over his shoulder.

“I’m not leaving her with you alone,” you said firmly, setting Willa down into the nearby high chair as you followed him further into the house. “You’re going to need help. You’re not capable of just doing this on your own.”

Rafe gave a sharp, humorless laugh. “Yeah, no kidding. I never said I was. But if she’s gonna be here, she’s staying in this house. So you’ll just have to suck it up.”

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to feel in this house with him—this house that was too much like a battlefield, and not enough like a home. But there was no escaping it now. You were stuck here together, as guardians. You took a deep breath and tried not to let the tension eat away at you.

For Willa.

"She’s still a baby," you murmured, brushing a stray curl from Willa’s face. "This isn’t about us. We need to figure it out for her."

Rafe didn’t respond, but he didn’t argue, either. He just stood there, watching you with that same unreadable look he always had. But for the first time, there was a sliver of uncertainty behind it.

And for the first time, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was a chance, however small, that you and Rafe might actually pull this off.

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[ifyoucandaniel]

I want to thank you for making your list of recommended long batfam fics. I have been making my way through it and I am really enjoying them! ESPECIALLY cards on the table (I also love Dark Matter but I had already read it). Please let us know if you ever get more long batfam fic recs 🥺

okay so ive been waiting to answer this until i had gathered a good chunk of new long fics and ive been getting a lot of similar messages asking for recommendations, so here is another list of my fav long batman fics!

Jason and the Three Terrors by @cdelphiki, 220k, ongoing, T. if i can get you to read one thing, let it be this. ohhh my god where to even begin, this is a fic where jason stays with the league after his dip in the lazarus pit for a little while and winds up being charged with getting damian, his cousin, and his sister out of the league safely. this fic is just so fucking good, cdelphiki always writes such seamless relationship growth and watching jason go from "im dropping these brats off first chance i get" to "im a single mother of three and i need to provide for my kids" is phenomenal. 1000/10, the writing, the kids, the relationships, please do yourself a favor and read this.

A Collision of Masks by Movaz, 169k, completed, T. !! guys. this is such a good dick grayson-centric fic. this is set in an AU where batman never joined the justice league so the justice league knows very little about batman inc. and consequently dick never joins YJ so the YJ team is tasked with checking out a new hero called nightwing in bludhaven and police officer grayson is tasked with helping the team in their investigation :) really good fic exploring dick juggling all his identities and finally gaining people he can rely on! i actually did a bind of it so you know i love this story so much

Life Happens by @cdelphiki, 176k, complete, G. ok so this fic is probably one of the most beautiful stories of growth and love i've read. its about tim and damian being transported from their world into ours where they're only comic book characters and they start to build a life for themselves here. cdelphiki is one of the most amazing authors, im currently going through all of their works, but this one has just stayed with me and i dont think anyone should pass it up. watching tim and damian grow together and seeing damian have a real childhood and just the whole concept of life happening wether you want it to or not is so beautifully done. cannot recommend enough.

Honoring Promises by LananiA3O, completed, 14k, T. okay this isnt actually a long fic, but its one of my favorite fics ever and i need it on this list. if you're like me and you love UTRH aus where instead of sticking around as red hood after bruce threw a batarang at his throat jason fucks off and disappears to live a normal life, this is for you. from dick's pov, he realizes jasons last letter was a last attempt at reaching out and stalks him until he finds out what really happened to his little brother. i think about this every day and wish it was 10000 words long

The Time Before by @cdelphiki, 80k, completed, G. at this point this is basically just a cdelphiki fic rec lmao when i said everything by them was good, i meant that shit. this is a fic where jason is sent back into time when he was 9 years old but still has all his memories from the future. he goes to bruce for help despite wanting to do literally anything else and is surprised to realize maybe everything isn't how he remembers it 10 years in the future and maybe theres a chance he can go home when hes older again. once again cdelphiki hitting me in the feels with this one, really amazing study on how time and pain can change how you perceive and remember things and also just forgiveness and fixing mistakes and accepting mistakes were made. very good, highly recommend

Good Fences Make Good Neighbors by Sophene, 80k, completed, batlantern, T. I have no excuse for this, this is such a fun and funny fic i love it so much. basically HOA president single dad bruce with his 10 million adopted kids and then hal jordan moves in next door and plays his music too loud at 10pm on a school night and throws parties and bruce has a stick up his ass about it. i really really love the shift in hal when kyle comes to live with him as his ward (? i cant actually remember if hes adopted or just a ward) and seeing him finally understand why bruce acts the way he does when it comes to his kids. also seeing bruce just being a tired dad 90% of the fic when he isnt glaring at hal is so good.

Option C by CasualGeek, 78k, completed, T. this has, in my opinion, a very unique and interesting premise. basically, what if instead of becoming red hood, jason comes back to gotham and manages to get Joker put on trial for the murder of sheila haywood and get the insanity plea thrown out. really interesting approach to batman and joker and jason technically doing things through the legal justice system and what that means for him and the people around him. very good, read it all in one sitting

butcherbird, fly away home by e_va, 41k, completed, M. lost days jason todd loml! basically what if when jason was off on his world tour one of his tutors kidnapped bruce wayne and jason has feelings about it against his will. "what if lost days jason was stuck in the same room as a sick bruce for more than 10 minutes and actually had to talk to him without punching him" AU and i throughly enjoyed it. @darlingatlas recommended this one and she never misses with the jason recs

this kind of weather by r_astra, 55k, completed, T. this is the fic something in the static was originally inspired by and if you know me, i love that series, and i love this fic too. another what if jasons mom didnt die until later and social services gets involved before he can bolt and bruce seeks him out with some very interesting news. i love fics that display jason’s relationship with crime alley and him being one of them. very good, i love jason so much

ok now these aren't actually long fics but i need to get them out here because i love them so much and highly recommend!

To My Brother by a_silly_gander, 7k, completed, T. Lost days jason au where he starts sending post cards from his travels to dick on a whim while we follow his time away and the people he meets. i love this one so much, please read it if you love jason and dick, its so special to me.

Enhanced Fashion Sense is a Perk of Being a Cat by 12pt_timesnewromanfont, 23k, complete, G. selina breaks into drake manor to steal a cat artifact and accidentally meets the drakes ten year old son they left home alone. then she starts keeping tabs on him and eventually adopts him and makes him stray. i really love selina finding tim before bruce and taking care of him <3 10/10 i wish selina would adopt me

[stxrrydreamss]

Aizawa/Hawks/Dabi/Bakugo

They find out you were in a car accident.

Part 1, Part 2

Authors note: This took me a few days to write, so I hope you all enjoy! I even made the gifs myself :)

•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧.˚ *•̩̩͙ ✩. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧. ˚ *•̩̩͙ ✩.

The night was enveloped in darkness as I navigated my way back home. The rain hammered against my car window, growing in intensity and size, until it obscured my vision completely. I hit the brakes, but my car lost traction and began to hydroplane. Frantically, I pumped the brakes and steered in the opposite direction, hoping to regain control. Suddenly, a black SUV, blinded by the heavy rain, collided with the back of my car, pushing it into the path of an oncoming vehicle. As the impact sent my car into a terrifying spin, I braced for the impending collision. The world turned upside down as my car flipped, and I slipped into unconsciousness upon impact.

Aizawa

Shouta had just finished his shift when he got a call to respond to a three-car accident nearby. He quickly accepted the job and hurried over to the scene. About ten minutes earlier, he had heard the crash, muffled by the rain, but it had still sounded terrible. He never expected to find your car among the vehicles involved. The SUV had pulled over farther down the street, its front end completely wrecked. The red sedan, which had collided with your car, was in even worse shape - its front end was completely gone, and the sides were scraped from flipping over and sliding.

The drivers of both vehicles sustained minimal injuries in the accident. However, you were still trapped in the wreckage of your car, and there was no update on your condition. The road was littered with debris from your vehicle, and the extent of the damage was evident. The roof, front, and back ends of your car were severely caved in from the collision with both a sedan and an SUV. Onlookers could see the shock on the face of a bystander who struggled to contain his emotions as he witnessed the emergency responders working tirelessly in the pouring rain to assist the accident victims.

He was struggling to keep his emotions in check, but he knew he had to remain focused on his responsibilities. After gathering information from the paramedics, he learned that the collision occurred when a black SUV hydroplaned and collided with their car. The driver of the red sedan, who was under the influence and speeding, also failed to avoid the crash. Upon hearing about the red sedan, Shouta's anger flared, but his priority was ensuring your well-being. Leaving the police and paramedics to handle the investigation and care for those involved, Shouta hurried toward your location.

Upon finally laying eyes on the wreckage of your car up close, Shouta swore he stopped breathing. The interior of the car was in disarray, with airbags deployed and debris scattered across the seats. He could even see your blood splattered across the airbags and the interior of the car. The door had been forcefully opened with a tool, and the grimace on his face reflected his distress at the scene. The ambulance had whisked you away not long ago, leaving him in a state of panic. The uncertainty of whether you were alive or not had his mind reeling. All rational thought escaped him as he stood fixated on the scene of the crash. Would they take a deceased person to the hospital? The sound of an officer calling out broke him from his thoughts, and he refocused to exchange information and resolve the situation as quickly as possible, eager to hurry to the hospital.

Hawks

Keigo had finally made it home after a grueling shift. He stood outside, shaking the water from his wings before stepping into the cozy space the two of you shared. Keigo cast his gaze around the house, searching for any sign of your presence, but found that you hadn't returned yet. Despite the concern that crept into his mind, he reassured himself that you were likely just delayed by the traffic compounded by the pouring rain outside.

Keigo let out a tired yawn as he extended his arms in a long, satisfying stretch before making his way to the bedroom. With a sense of relief, he placed his headset and glasses on the dresser next to his bed, then selected a comfortable set of clothes and made his way to the bathroom. After turning on the shower, he peeled off his damp uniform and jacket, feeling the chill of the room against his skin. Stepping into the shower, the contrast of the warm water against his cold skin sent a shiver down his spine, causing his feathers to puff up. As the warmth enveloped him, Keigo couldn't help but relish the sensation, taking a moment to soothe the sore parts of his body before finally proceeding to lather up and wash away the day's exhaustion.

Keigo reached for the bottle of shampoo as the sound of his ringing phone filled the air. He made a note to check it afterward and continued with his hair washing routine. As he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, the phone rang once more, but he chose to ignore it and focus on his shower. Finally done, he reached for a towel after stepping out.

As Keigo finishes showering and begins to dry himself off, he grabs a fresh towel and uses it to gently pat his hair dry. He then picks up his phone from the bathroom and heads back to the bedroom. Keigo unlocks his phone and listens to a voicemail left by someone who had called him earlier. Placing the phone on speaker, he sets it down on the bed and continues to dry off before changing into his sleepwear.

The moment Keigo heard the words "Yuriko Harusa calling from the hospital regarding your fiancé (Y/n) (L/n)" he felt a jolt of panic surge through him. His heart raced as he listened further, his mind unable to process the news. After hearing that (Y/n) had been in a car accident and was currently undergoing surgery, Keigo's sense of urgency was overwhelming. He ended the call abruptly, his movements becoming frenzied as he snatched his keys from the nightstand and sprinted out to his car, his mind racing with worry and fear.

Dabi

Dabi sat quietly in the shelter of your screened-in back patio, patiently awaiting your return. Draped in the throw blanket you had thoughtfully left on the swinging chair, he watched the rain cascading down and listened to the soothing sound of the water flowing from the gutters. As he glanced at his phone, a frown creased his brow. The time displayed on the screen stood out starkly: 10:42 P.M. His cyan eyes darkened with disappointment. It would have been much better if you had arrived an hour earlier.

What might have occurred to you? Were you captured by a villain? Or did a hero intervene and bring you in for interrogation? The foremost question on the villain’s mind was your well-being. With that, he rises from the rocking chair on the veranda, neatly folds the blanket before returning it to its place on the seat, and then pulls his hood up as he steps out of the enclosure and into the pouring rain.

Dabi trudged down the street, his expression twisted in anger as the relentless rain drenched him. After walking for what felt like an eternity, he rounded a corner and abruptly halted, ducking behind the nearest building. The flashing lights of a police car had caught him off guard. Peering cautiously around the corner, his heart sank as he spotted a tow truck hauling away your car. The vehicle dangled precariously above the ground, destined to join two other mangled cars on the truck's lift.

Dabi was taken aback as his eyes widened in shock, feeling a sudden surge of emotions that made him queasy. It was clear that you were not okay, and he regretted not ignoring his initial instincts and waiting outside the building where you worked. The thought of being in the car at that moment made him shudder at the realization that things could have been much worse.

After re-evaluating the situation, it's clear that having him present could have jeopardized your relationship and led to legal consequences for both of you. He evidently prioritized your well-being over his own, evidenced by his willingness to see you injured rather than facing a possible prison sentence due to his reckless actions. As his quirk was triggered by intense emotions of anger, worry, and despair, the burn of Dabi's skin hinted at the depth of his distress. However, the most important thing now is your well-being. Although you were roughed up, the important thing is that you're safe and will be home soon.

As one of the officers patrolled the area, he suddenly heard a strange hissing sound. Intrigued, he turned his head and headed towards the source of the noise. In the dim light, he caught a glimpse of a dark figure vanishing around the corner of a nearby building. Alarmed, he quickly drew his pistol and hurried after the mysterious figure. Rounding the corner, he found himself face to face with an empty, silent street. Perplexed, he scanned the area, trying to make sense of what he had seen. As he lowered his weapon, he noticed a solitary droplet of blood staining the concrete, slowly being washed away.

Bakugo

Bakugo was dealing with a group of powerful villains, one of whom had the ability to control vehicles. Two of the villains had already been captured, leaving only the remaining foe to deal with. As Bakugo prepared to blind the villain with a powerful blast to assist Izuku in capturing him, he suddenly heard a screeching sound followed by a loud crashing noise.

Exclaiming in frustration, he let out a strong shout as he successfully blinded the enemy, creating an opening for Izuku to swiftly employ black whip and restrain the adversary.

Amidst his struggle with the villains, he shouted, 'Can someone check on the civilians!' and swiftly called for reinforcements to take the villains into custody. He also requested ambulances to provide aid to the injured.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it," he yelled as he darted towards the direction of the crashes. He quickly made his way to a black SUV and checked on the family inside to make sure they were okay. After that, he rushed over to the man in the red sedan. The man seemed dazed but appeared to be alright, although there was a possibility of a concussion. Katsuki was taken aback to see your car in the midst of the wreckage.

"Baby! Hey!" He shouts at the top of his lungs while dashing as swiftly as possible towards the car. It had overturned, and you were dangling upside down in your seat, unconscious. He rapidly evaluates the scene before touching his headset to inform Izuku of the situation. "Three cars were involved in the accident. There's a black SUV with an apparently unharmed family, a red sedan with a man who may have a concussion, and (Y/n) is unconscious amidst the wreckage of her vehicle," he conveys urgently.

"Is she okay?" Izuku's concerned voice came through the speaker.

Katsuki's voice crackled through his headset, filled with anger and concern. "She better be okay. Otherwise, I will handle that villain myself," he growled. The thought of that damn villain escaping justice and reappearing filled him with fury. The mere possibility of encountering the villain again made him shudder with a violent resolve.

Izuku assured, "I'll take care of everything once these villains are apprehended and removed. You should accompany her to the hospital."

"Hey, come on, baby!" Katsuki cries out as he reaches through the shattered glass to unlock the door and gently unbuckle your seatbelt, catching you in the process. You were cold, and he could see the shock on your face. "Shit," he mutters as he quickly carries you beneath the awning of a building. With urgency, he gently places you down on your back and immediately checks for a pulse. A sense of panic sets in when he realizes that you didn't have one.

“Fuck! Fuck!” Katsuki's voice reverberates through the headset, his eyes brimming with tears, but he fights to keep them from falling. "She doesn't have a pulse!" His urgent cry pierces the air, mingling with the distant wail of police sirens against the backdrop of pouring rain. Without hesitation, he swiftly begins CPR, his every movement charged with a sense of desperate determination.

Katsuki's hands are firmly pressed against your chest as he starts administering chest compressions, then leans over to breathe into your mouth, repeating the sequence with urgency. "Come on. Come on!" He shouts while vigorously compressing your chest once more, then swiftly switches to exhaling air into your mouth again. His heart pounded in his chest with overwhelming fear. The thought of losing you was unbearable. It felt unjust that you were in this situation. The idea of losing you was inconceivable. If only he had been faster, he could have prevented this. Katsuki couldn't keep track of how long he had been repeating the same actions or when his pleas and tears had started. It was all a hazy blur. The ambulance whisked you away, and Izuku had to physically pull him away from you. He struggled against Izuku's restraining black whip as he desperately attempted to reach you. The memory of that moment was blurry as he sat in the living room of Kirishima's house.

Kirishima was seated with his legs apart and his hands clasped between his knees, leaning forward attentively as he observed Katsuki. Sitting next to Kirishima was Izuku, who also had his legs spread and was holding his head in exasperation with both hands. Katsuki sat across from them on the couch, seemingly catatonic, with his narrow, dark eyes fixated on the floor. Izuku had brought Katsuki over to Kirishima's house in an attempt to help him calm down and defuse the tense situation.

Kirishima had hastily welcomed them into his home and handed the two boys towels to dry off. Izuku quickly dried himself, while Katsuki disregarded the towel and flopped down on the couch, unmoving. His mind was consumed with thoughts of when you would return and be held in his arms once more.

[evans23]

You were his

Pairing : David Friedman x Reader OC

Summary : Sometimes, David wished you were more compliant but he wouldn't want you any other way.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Smut, insecurities, anguish.

A/N: Hello dear 😁 Hope you enjoy the more alluring Detective of all the time.

Also read on AO3

David and you met by chance two years ago. By chance... it is an understatement. Actually, you had crashed into his car because of your inattention. 

To be honest, you weren't a really good driver and you were thanking the Driving's God every day to let you get the precious license you yielded so much to obtain when you were eighteen. 

Now, sixteen years later, you still weren't a good driver but you felt it as a blessing because, without your lack of skills at driving, you would have never met David.

You could remember when he had jumped from his car, ready to murder someone, in fact, you, to have bumped into his old red car. Of course, you didn't know at the time he was a detective, not that it would have me any difference about the deplorable state you let his car in, but at least, you would not have freaked out as well, thinking your end was near for the mere reason than in your mind, a detective couldn't do any harm to another human being. David had disillusioned you about that at some point in your relationship. 

It wasn't love at first sight. Not for you and not for him either. None of you had a report to fill in about the accident, a thing you still teased him about for being such a neglectful Detective. 

Still today, he was trying to fathom how in hell he had such a leap of faith about another person. His job had made him wary of everyone and everything. Even his wife had betrayed him at some point. The only human he trusted was his only daughter. 

But this day, besides the fact that he was late for a peculiarly difficult case which tired him more than usual and if you asked him, he would tell you his tiredness was the only reason why he had let you go with his phone number and a quarter of his faith in you to call him back to fill in the report. However, he found it wise to specify he was from the Police. 

Of course, you were a trustworthy person and as a matter of course, you had called him as soon as you had arrived home. He invited you, or should you say he ordered you, to come to the precinct during the afternoon and you were compelled, a bit afraid of the consequences if you irked him too much. 

He was his usual self when you arrived : grumpy and gruff. He scurried towards you as soon as he glimpsed at you, leading you to his office for your biggest relief as it wasn't the interrogation room. 

If you were asked, you would probably say that it was the moment you began to feel butterflies dancing in your belly. He was so imposing, there in his cramped office, towering towards you while he was leading a mere formality like an interrogation. What’s your name ? What’s your car’s brand ? How old are you ? 

You had frowned at this one, not sure if the question was pertinent but you understood later that he wanted to be sure you were only lucky enough to look under 25 or if you were really under 25. By chance, not only were you 33 but it seemed like you had discovered the secret of the Fountain of Youth. 

His next question caught you off guard and if David was honest, he would say he was quite stunned by his ownboldness. But it had paid off since you had said yes when he asked you randomly as if the question was a part of his interrogation for a simple collision with not too much damage, can I invite you to go out later today, after my service ?

You were tempted to tell him : Can you or may you ? But you had already understood that David hadn’t the same sense of humour as the others and that your teasing could frustrate him and you didn’t want to blow out your chance with the Detective, not when the butterfly wings caused a lump of happiness in your throat just by hearing the unexpected question. Therefore, you simply answered yes.

You met him at 5, oblivious of the fact that for the first time in his life, he had delegated his work to a colleague for not having to cancel his rendezvous with you.

It was the first of far much more meetings. You learnt quickly how to manage David, his constant busyness and his grumpy mood, even though most of the time he was more than pleasant with you without even trying to be. You helped him to open up to you and you did the same with him. 

As an introvert, you knew how hard it could be to share your deepest thoughts and your wounds soul with someone else, but together you learned to do so. Even if he would never admit it, David fell hard for you after your first meeting and after the third he was head over heels for you.

For you, it had been faster since your heart was his after you had left the precinct with the feeling that he could definitely be the one you were looking for to complete you. 

And here you were, two years later, living with the over-occupied Detective, dealing with his sometimes ill-tempered, alleviating the pressure after a peculiarly complicated or dreadful case, loving him with all your soul. And even if he wasn’t the demonstrative type, you knew David felt the same for you. 

However, today, the Driver’s God wasn’t with you as your car ran down while you went to work. A lovely colleague of yours came to your rescue, dropping you off at your work while a car repairer had been called to take care of your vehicle. 

You supposed Mr Darcy, your car’s name, was tired of being so mistreated by your bad driving habits. You didn’t call David to let him know about the breakdown, aware of his busyness, anyway, he was probably chasing leads and you didn’t want to bother him unnecessarily. You could have texted him but you knew how he hated being distracted while he was poring over evidences and you weren’t oblivious that he liked to joke about your clinginess with his partner, Sadie, a former FBI agent who was now working effectively with him. 

You weren’t jealous as you got on pretty well with the woman since the first time he introduced you to her. Moreover, she had a boyfriend, who would probably become her husband sooner than later. But you were too self-conscious to bear being the butt of their joke as playful as it was. And after all, he would know soon enough your precious Mr Darcy had let you down.

So you worked without having a second thought about your bad start this morning, too enamoured with your job for staying worked up too long. You worked in a bookstore, a job which fitted you perfectly as you were such a bookworm. But as the day went on, you realised you should have secured a lift with one of your colleagues. Indeed, you were now doing the closure alone and it was pitch-black. While you were counting the proceeds of the day, you tried to figure out the best and safest way to come back to David’s house. Your house. 

You glimpsed at your watch, asking yourself if you should eventually call David but you decided not to. If he wasn’t working anymore, which was improbable knowing him, then he was probably winding down in front of the TV, maybe he had even nodded off.

“Come on [Y/N], you’re a grown-up woman, you don’t need your man to hold your hand. For God's sake, you have already come back home on your own in the past without any trouble.”

But it was before knowing David and the gruesome things his job made him see day after day. He warned you more than often about being careful, and beware about everything and everyone, particularly when the night has set for good. He often told you how careless you could be sometimes, reminding you that the world wasn’t a safe place and that you had to be more attentive to your surroundings. Now, with all his recommendations in your head, you felt a tad unease walking alone in the dark, yet it was only a twenty-minute walk, nothing to really wind you up. 

Therefore, you began to walk, slowly as you were wearing your favourite pairs of heels, the ones that make you taller than you were in reality and give your appearance more allure. The one David despised because every time you wore it, he was making a sort of wager between him and himself if yes or no you were going to strain your ankle. For his relief and yours, it had never happened. 

The cool air made you shudder a bit and you were beginning to regret not having taken a jacket with you this morning. However, how could you have known your car would let you down ?!

But your cold skin didn’t bother you too much as a cold shiver ran down your spine. Someone was following you. You accelerate your pace and the sound of soles behind you accelerates too. You put your hand in your pocket, encircling your phone without daring to take it out, lest to alert your pursuer about your attention. And even if you could reach David, what could he do ?

You accelerate a bit your walking, head down, hand gripping firmly your phone, asking yourself how you would run if needed with these stupid shoes, which made your feet ache in addition. 

And then, your heart stopped. A hand was on your shoulder and you froze, unable to even scream. Your whole body ran cold and your brain couldn’t work anymore. You were going to die here, in a dark alley, David and your parents would have to grieve you and all of that because of your genuine stupidity.

Incapable to move, you shut your eyes, waiting for the unavoidable when another hand grabbed your wrist and forced you to turn around.

“You are the most inconsiderate woman I have ever met ! Are you totally crazy or just stupid for walking all by yourself in this part of the town ? During the night on top of that !” 

You let out a sigh of relief, recognising David’s voice but when you met his eyes, you knew he wasn’t over with you.

Holding firmly your wrist, he led you towards his car, which was parked near the alley where you had the fear of your life. Thanks to the presence of Sadie, you escaped his wrath for some time. Not that you were afraid of him or of his anger but you didn’t like it when he was mad at you because it woke up all your insecurities, even though David told you a thousand times that even if sometimes you were quarrelling for more than often stupid things, never would he leave you for such a trivial thing than a little disagreement. 

But you had the feeling it wasn’t a little disagreement this time, you could see smoke coming out of his ears while his knuckles had turned white by squeezing the wheel for the purpose of containing himself in front of his colleague and friend, however, you weren’t fooled by his restraint, you knew you were in for a night with him wrangling over you about your little stroll in the night.

He dropped off Sadie and you shift off the backseat to sit in the front with him. He didn’t talk during the 15 longer minutes of all your life. He was still as the grave, glimpsing at you sometimes with a moody sigh. You didn’t try to reach him either. You didn’t want to have an argument with him whereas your head and your feet were aching, your stomach knotted and your insecurities overwhelming at the mere idea David was mad at you for something rather insignificant.

When you arrived, he opened the door and let you in first as usual. You took off your shoes, and your hair clippers in a vain attempt to alleviate the aching which was pounding at the back of your head and you strode to the kitchen where David was already sitting down at the counter. He offered you a glass of water that you accepted suspiciously but you didn’t have to wait too long before he lashed out his anger over you.

“Do you really want to kill me woman ?!”

It was a rhetorical question, so you chose to keep your mouth closed, but inwardly your answer was as ironic as is question. 

“Didn’t tell you how dangerous the town is at night ? Particularly THIS part of the town ?!”

He wasn’t shooting at you but David didn’t need to raise your tone to make an impression. His cold anger, clear and exaggerated articulation and his hazel eyes more cutting than a blade were enough to keep quiet the more impudent delinquent. But you weren’t one of his suspects, you were his girlfriend so you were not nearly so impressed about his intimating demeanour as you were years ago after having driven into his car. 

“David, you were the one frightening me, not one of your criminal…” you began but he cut you off.

“Fortunately it was only me ! You stupid girl !”

It was your turn to cut him off. You couldn’t stand it when he was insulting your intelligence, even though you knew he didn’t see you as a stupid person. 

“Stop it David ! Stop patronising me ! I am not a child !”

You could see the anger seething more and more in his eyes.

“Then don’t act like a petulant little girl who knows everything better than me ! How many times did I tell you this part of the town is dangerous ? Why in hell didn’t you call me ?!”

He was still scolding you in a calm, slow-paced tone while now you were shooting.

“I didn’t want to bother you !”

“You don’t bother me, you crazy woman ! What’s bothers me is you putting yourself in danger ! I already have a teenager who gives me too much white hair, I don’t need you to do so. I need you to come through for me. My work makes my life complicated enough as is !”

“I am supportive ! You can always rely on me and you know that ! I am a big girl, I can walk by myself without the need to have a man holding my hand !”

“Oh please, don’t set off with your stupid feminist revendication or I swear…”

For the first time since the beginning of your argument, his voice raised a tad.

“Stop treating me like a child ! I am not your teenage daughter, I am your wif… girlfriend,” you shouted back, caught up before saying the word wife, not wanting him to know how much you were yielding to be Mrs Friedman, even though David wasn’t dupe and already knew that. 

In fact, the ring had been hidden in his underwear drawer for two months.

“Yes, you’re my girlfriend, my wife like I like to introduce you when I talk about you and more than all the only one besides my daughter I love more than my life itself. And yes, you behave like a child ! All I want is taking you on my knees and giving you a good spanking to make this lesson stick in this stubborn head of yours.”

“Is it a promise ?” you asked, catching him off guard.

You see the twinkle in his eyes despite the fact he hadn’t finished with you. Nevertheless, you had succeeded in whetting his sexual appetite. 

“You, little minx !”

He drew nearer to you, almost threatening. You put a hand on his chest but he grabbed it, pulling you over him, capturing your waist with his other arm.

“It is what you want little minx ? You want to be in for a treat ?”

You forced him to lean towards you to kiss him widely. He responded fervently before pulling himself away. You moaned, saddened by the disappearance of his warm lips against yours.

“No !”

“What ?” you asked with wide eyes.

“Naughty girls don’t get rewards.”

“David ! Don’t leave me hanging like that !” you said, the wetness between your legs itching you.

“Apologise and maybe I’ll indulge you.” he blackmailed you.

“Never !”

You had your pride and you didn’t do anything wrong. You wouldn’t apologise just because he let his anger get the best of him. However, you knew it was the only way for him to express such a strong emotion as the fear he had felt when he had seen you all alone in the dark night.

“Then promise.”

“What ?” you asked suspiciously.

“Promise me, this is the last time you do that.”

His tone had softened and you frowned seeing the glint of worry in his eyes.

“David, what’s the matter ?”

“Promise,” he insisted.

You didn’t need to be a genius to understand something was on his mind.

“David, what happened ?”

“For God's Sake woman ! Once in your life can you accept to obey me even if it goes against your contradictory brain which can bear receiving any orders ?”

Now you could clearly hear his worry and your own anger melted out as fast as it had appeared in the first place.

“I promise.”

He dived his eyes into yours, probing your sincerity.

“David, I swear on our sharing love. I will never do that again. You have my words.”

His face softened in a flourish. He knew you well enough to know when you gave your words, one’s could trust you with their life.

“What happened ?” you asked again, pecking at his lips.

He snaked his arms around you, holding you as tight as he could, giving you a lingering kiss on the crown of your head.

“There was a murder this morning in this same alley where I saw you,” he merely answered. 

You felt your heart melt for the man in front of you, his concerned and sad expression leaving you hurt for him and the hardness of his job. He had been seeing so many horrendous things from corruption to murder, without even talking about blackmail, threatening and bribing colleagues. You sank into him, trying to comfort him by letting him feel how much you loved him.

“David, you shouldn’t let those things work you up so much. I know you have another vision of the world because of your job but you can’t let it lead up your life. Our life.”

“[Y/N], you don’t understand. I can’t put things in perspective to see the world in your way because I know this world doesn’t exist. It is easier for people like you to not think about it and breeze through their life as if it only happened to others, but I know all to well it is not the case. I was a loner before you. You know how much my divorce left me broken apart. I needed alcohol to forget the throes of my suffering and then you arrived and gave me the motivation to be a better man. I didn’t know I was still able to love before you but here we are and you put my life, my mind, upside down. If anything happened to you or my daughter… I… I… I couldn’t get over it. Never.”

You felt your eyes filling with tears by hearing his monologue. Oh God, how much you loved this man. Your heart swelled with a mixture of love and harm for his distress. 

"How did you know I was walking home ?" you whispered, your fingers caressing his cheek.

"I met Meghan at the gas station, your colleague, and she told me she had to give you a lift to go to work. She was annoyed with herself because she hadn't asked you if you needed her to drive you back home."

Out of kindness and worry, David had driven to the bookshop to see it was closed. Therefore, he drove in what was in all likelihood the way you would be likely to take to come back home. When he had seen you walking in the same alley he had to investigate this morning after the discovery by a jogger of a corpse, his blood had run cold. 

You listened attentively to him, trying to coax him with your lingering fingers on his cheek. Seeing that he was still upset about the whole thing, you step back and you tentatively took off your shirt. 

"What are you doing ?" he asked, amazed by your behaviour.

You were the shy type when it came to initiating any sexual activities. David had quickly learnt that if he wanted to make love with you, he would have to be straightforward with you and he enjoyed it most of the time. Being the one in control of your sex life made him revel in it. 

You didn't answer, instead, you took off his tie and you began to unbutton his shirt.

"What gets into you little rascal ?" he asked playfully.

"You. Only you. Always you." you answered, taking off your bra.

You tried your best to not cover your breasts. Even after two years, you felt quite coy under his piercing eyes. You always felt as if he could read your mind and it was likely true because he always knew when you were up for something before you had the time to even think about it. 

"I want to make love with you," you whispered.

His gaze, now burning with an ardent desire made your legs wobbling. 

"Weren't you in for a punishment ?" he asked playfully while he unbuckled his belt. 

"Everything you want," you genuinely answered.

"Everything ?" he repeated while taking off his shirt completely. 

You felt a shiver running through your whole body at the sight of his chest. You trace from the tip of your fingers the slight hair crossing his chest until his belly button, totally mesmerized by his handsomeness. 

"Yes," you whispered.

Without any warning, his lips captured yours and he gave you the most passionate kiss you had ever received. Then, in one swift motion, he lifted you off the floor and your legs encircled his waist. He led you both through the house to your bedroom where he gently threw you on the bed. 

You made a gesture to remove the rest of your clothes but he vividly stopped you. 

"No, I want to do that myself."

And so he began to take off your pants, then, slowly, brazenly, he put down your underwear, kissing down both of your legs during the process. 

When you were finally totally naked in front of him, he admired you for a while, making you blush. Then, eventually, he took off his own pants and underwear while relishing the sight of you totally ready for him, vulnerable and shy under his hazel eyes. 

He put his left hand on your ankle, slowly moving up to your tight. You closed your eyes, bottling up a moan while you felt his lips kissing your other tight. He drew nearer to your pussy, but whereas you thought he was going to kiss you there, he turned you around deftly, releasing a sounding slap on your ass. 

"David !" you almost screamed, surprised by what happened. 

He gave you another slap, harder than the first one and you tried to get up but he prevented you from doing that by poring over you.

"You asked to be punished, no ?" he rumbled to your ear.

You shuddered, aroused by his playfulness. You knew for sure he would never hurt you on purpose and all of this was just a game. An enjoyable game that made your wetness more and more significant. You needed him inside you. 

"David..."

"Hush ! Naughty girls don't get the right to talk," he said, kissing your now burning ass. 

You wiggled a bit beneath him but he stopped you with another slap before turning you over again. You were facing him now and he kissed you savagely, his thumb finding your clit. He rubbed your bundle of nerves at such a slow pace that it was a real torture for you.

"David, please..."

"Hush ! You said I could have everything I want from you. You may do what pleases you in your day-to-day life, but here, in your bedroom, I am the one in control, not you woman !"

You nodded once, acknowledging him the right he was requesting from you. You could let him take the reins in your bed, it didn't hurt you. 

Actually, even if you were to bashful to admit it, you liked his authority around you when you were in the intimacy of your bedroom, relishing in the love of each other, even though making love with David was sometimes quite intense. He could be a tender and passionate lover as he could be rough and intense after a hard day of work. You didn't reallymind because no matter his mood, he was always listening to you, your needs and your own desires. If you weren't in for a quick, rough sex party, then he indulged you without complaint. In fact, it didn't really matter to him as long as you were his. 

"Promise again," he said, making your desire grow and grow with his teasing thumb. 

"I pro... promise," you stuttered.

"You promise what ?" he asked, inserting his finger into you.

You moaned, unable to answer.

"You promise what ?" he growled before sucking one of your nipples.

"I... I won't do that again."

"Do what ?" he insisted, nibbling playfully your nipple.

"Please, David..."

"No reward until I get my answer," he said, kissing your forehead, both of your cheeks, then your lips while a second finger entered you, delightfully scissoring you. 

"I promise... I... David ! Mmmmh ! I promise to never walk alone when it's dark."

"And you will warn me when something happens or if you need my help from now on ?"

He pushed his fingers further, making you arching. 

"Yes, yes ! Yes !"

"Is it a promise ?"

"You have my words. I swear David, I will never frighten you like that again. Never."

"See how you can be a good girl when you want ?" he said, removing his fingers.

"David," you moaned, frustrated by the disappearance of his warm fingers inside you playing deliciously with your cunt. 

He rubbed your wetness along his cock to lubricate it, then, he delicately entered you. He was always careful with you, knowing how sensitive you were and how easily you could bleed if he was too brutal with you during the foreplay. 

He began to thrust at a slow pace inside you while one of your hands found her way to his back and the other to his neck. You made sure to not scratch him as he didn't like it. Instead, you buried your head into the hollow of his neck, kissing him and whispering how much you loved him.

"I love you too [Y/N]. So much that sometimes it is hurtful."

You looked up at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes before he fawned on you, kissing your face, your neck, your breasts.

"David, faster please," you managed to say, revelling the sensation of his warmness inside and over you.

As if it was the signal he was waiting for, he began to thrust inside you faster while your legs found their place around his back. 

"David, I'm coming," you said, trying to hold back your orgasm.

"Come, honey, come for me," he said in his baritone voice.

Two more powerful thrusts and you were totally submerged by your orgasm. Your eyes fluttered while white dots came up to cloud your vision under the intensity of your orgasm. You felt David coming after you, adding more pleasure than you already had. He groaned while his cock throbbed inside you. 

He kissed you while you came down, breathless and lost in the abyss of your love for him, regaining your senses little by little. He gave you a soft kiss on your lips, asking you if you were alright. David wasn't demonstrative in his words but his actions were far more sounding.

"I say the truth," you uttered while he leant up against the headboard. 

You cuddled up at his side, your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat which was starting to regain his calmness after the whirlwind of your passion. 

"About what ?" he asked, looking at you lovingly.

"I will not do that again. I don't like that when you are mad at me."

His features softened and he pulled you closer. You snuggled against his chest, a sigh of contentment escaping your lips. 

"[Y/N], how many times would I have to tell you that even if we argue, it doesn't mean it is over between us ? Didn't I prove to you time after time you could trust me ?" he chided you gently.

He knew it wasn't your fault and he knew you trusted him but you had gone through some hard times in the past and sometimes, because of your easy character and your almost contaminating smile, he tended to forget how insecure you were deep inside you. 

"I know," you answered.

"It is not our first argument and there will be another one. I think it is quite healthy in fact that we can have disagreements from time to time. Life would be boring if you were nothing else than a little obedient wife."

"So, at the end of the day you like my stubbornness ?" you asked brazenly. 

"I like the whole of you. The qualities and the shortcomings. How you smile each time you catch me looking at you, how you blush when I am teasing you but more than anything else, I like that you're always there for me when I need it and I know it is more than often that I asked you to come through for me."

"I am happy to be your person David. I understand how your job is stressful and I am honoured to be the one helping you to release the pressure of the day."

You were so proud of him, how he had fought his old demons to be in a happy and healthy relationship with you and you weren't easily deceived, despite his rough edge and sarcasm, deep down, you were well aware he was still hurt by the betrayal of his ex-wife and sometimes, he too was afraid to lose you for someone else, someone who could be better than him, even though for you David was the perfect one, the one you had looked for so long. For too long, if you were asked. 

"Am I forgiven ?" you whispered, the sleep catching you up.

"[Y/N], you have nothing to be forgiven for. I was just so afraid when I saw you there. Sometimes, only sometimes, I need you to listen to me."

"I promised you I will and I will," you repeated firmly.

David said something but you were already drifting into sleep and you didn't hear it. When your answer didn't come, he looked down at you to see your sleepy form lovingly snuggled against him, searching for solace in his arms. He kissed the top of your head with a fond smile.

"I love you [Y/N]."

Yes, he loved you far more than words could express it. His thought drifted to the ring in his drawer and he internally smiled. 

"And sound, calling you my wife will be more official than you can think," he whispered, conscious you couldn't hear him now that you were sleeping soundly against him.

He looked at your chest raising and falling slowly, a small happy smile on your lips and he felt a surge of happiness and affection. You were definitely the best thing that could have happened to him and he would do everything he could to keep you safe. 

Slowly, his eyes closed and he fell asleep still holding you firmly against him. You were his anchor. You were his lighthouse in the stormy ocean that was his hectic life, you were his light in the dark. 

You were his. 

[secret-spirit]

An Escape to Simon

A continuation fic based off of the I Can't Decide animatic i did.

Tw: Gore/Blood (not mild but still)

A gunshot was fired.

Clyde swerved the road from the sudden loud noise, the ringing stuck in it's ears for a few seconds before gripping the steering wheel tightly, it cannot afford to crash now.

It saw at the cars mirrors police cars just in the distance heading closer, the sirens finally registering after the gunshot sound, there were at least 4 police cars from what Clyde could see. It didn't expect they'd notice immediately one of the cars was off- it guessed it was the orange light.

Another gunshot was fired, making it's head start to throb, it saw at the corner of it's eyes Alex having their ears covered up with their hands, to probably block out the sirens and gunshots.

It vaguely saw their illusions slipping. Showing striped hands with claws at the tips of their fingers.

Clyde tried to focus on the road ahead, they were almost there, they just had to loose the cops in the forest-

Another gunshot. But this time Clyde heard a pop accompany it.

The car spun out of it's control no matter how it tried to steer or stop it, Clyde heard a deflating sound outside. It cursed under it's breath, they shot at one of the tires of this thing.

Clyde recognizing the forest up ahead, It let the car swerve left getting them off of the road and going onto the bumpy and rocky ground, It then focused on Alex who was now holding onto their seat. It unbuckled Alex's seatbelt and grabbed their figure, arms wrapped around them in a protective manner making sure not to touch any exposed skin as much as possible.

The collision hit harder than it expected, as the car had crashed into a tree. It took a moment to think, before unwrapping Alex and throwing their bag towards them.

"Go and run, I'll hold them off" Clyde said as it watched Alex unlock the car door.

"What? Go where-" Alex asked.

"Go north! Just- if you see a barn go towards it immediately" Clyde said with more urgency as it forced itself out of the front car's shattered window, as the door to the drivers seat was blocked by the tree that they had crashed into. It's clothes was getting tattered by the broken glass but it didn't pay any mind to it.

Police cars parked at the road and Clyde already began seeing many police officers run out.

"GO!" Clyde exclaimed which caused Alex to start bolting towards the direction it wanted them to go too.

A gunshot was heard which caused it's head to start spinning, it shook it off and faced the police officers having guns pointed at it.

It's many teeth showed through it's twisted smile, feeling the hunger as the police officer from before layed dormant in it's stomach, their screams finally quieting down and deforming, surely they'd like some company.

-

Alex ran through the forest, some part of them wanted to go back and drag Clyde with them but that sounded stupid even from all the stupid decisions it made throughout the months being around the demon.

North, see a barn, head there immediately.

They ran at a straight direction going past trees and other nature obstacles, they thought for a second they were doing fine.

A gunshot was fired.

Pain exploded in their leg and they began stumbling down, falling onto the wet damp grass. Alex groaned, turning around and sitting up to see blood soaking through their leg.

An officer came from behind a tree and began marching there way towards Alex, they began to crawl back before they felt their back hit a tree.

A gun drawn out and pointed at their face, they were cornered.

"Mx williams, if you try to resist more you'll end up like that demon" the officer said.

Alex felt the world spinning, the pain in their foot going numb as the blood soaked through even more, their head throbbed and their eyes ached from pain, it was too dark and too bright at the same time. Everything felt wrong in a way, as if they are hallucinating.

They saw through blurry vision the officer backing up, a fearful expression on their face. A crows caw was heard, and Alex could barely make out a large bird landing on the officer. Why was it... melting?

Alex covered their ears and shut their eyes from the carnage happening infront of them, the screams of the officer drowned out by static and ringing, finally having a moments of peace and quiet.

Despite their eyes being glued shut, they felt their vision expand, seeing the bird from the corner of their vision, before seeing a barn just near behind a fence. They saw pitch black once again as the headache grew worse and they could feel their wound again, the sick rotten smell finally getting to them.

They heard footsteps coming closer, but everything was to overwhelming for them to bear any longer. They felt the wave of exhaustion grabbing them whole, the warm thought of sleep clogging their head. They felt themselves slipping away as they let sleep consume them.

The last feeling they got was getting lifted up in the air.

-

A gunshot was heard.

Simon flinched from that, quickly recovering before hearing the Flock panicked caws and seeing from the barn flying towards the direction of the sound.

He sighed, one day he'll train it to behave well enough to not eat humans upon first sight. He layed the broom on the wall and exited the barn, quickly following the direction the Flock went off too, he guessed the sound was probably from a hunter going too near this area.

Simon heard the cries of someone getting mauled by the Flock, a pang of guilt hit him as he speed up his running to catch up towards his companion.

"Flock! No! Stop it!" He shouted but it was too late, carnage was everywhere in the area that barely looked like a human.

He noticed however the Flock didn't seem to have consumed a soul, it was looking at something else.

Simon turned to that direction and saw another human, one the Flock hadn't touched and seemed to be just staring at them. They are unconscious, blood leaking through their foot as they layed unmoving against the tree.

Simon walked closer to the human, crouching down inspecting the wound. Reality seemed to shift around the human which didn't make sense, he wasn't using hallucinations. Going back to the wound it wasn't lethal but it would definitely get an infection if it's not treated.

Simon got closer and lifted up the human with his normal hands, the clothes luckily acting as protection from skin contact but he made sure to keep watch of his spikes.

The Flock seemed oddly calm, tilting it's head at the human in an odd sense of curiosity, Simon was curious too, as to why the Flock was acting this way towards this human compared to any other human that stray far to close to the barn.

He stepped inside his home, gently laying the human down onto a hay bail with a pillow under their head as he goes to find the first aid kit.

A certain scent stuck onto the human, one familiar to a certain veldigun that he quarreled with.

But that begs the question, what had happened?

[my-own-walker]

Colin Zabel x Reader where the reader gets in a slight car accident (it’s not severe). BUT detective Colin to the rescue speeds his way to the collision and acts like she’s been seriously injured (when she’s only got little bruises). Rushing her home and taking care of her for the day. Just a very protective Zabel 😌

I'll Get To You

note: Ahhh wait I really love this request awwwww!!

warnings: mentions of car accidents, injuries, and a disgusting amount of fluff.

Omniscient perspective...btw.

+++

Y/N did nothing wrong. As soon as the light turned green, she drove straight, as one does. That was until some idiot in the opposing traffic lanes turned left straight into the back of the right side of her car. Her car spun out dramatically. She slammed on her brakes and her tires screeched, protesting against the sudden activity.

She was okay, minus some scratches and bruises on her face and arms from the airbags deploying.

The other driver was on his phone when he crashed into her. His car was totaled. He was also okay, though. His negligence, however, completely crushed her taillight and right side bumper.

Overall, they were both super shaken.

Y/N was just thankful to be alive. Grateful for the drivers behind her who had the wherewithal to stop dead in their tracks as soon as her car started spinning. No other cars were involved. It was a miracle everything turned out the way it did.

Police arrived on the scene quickly and ushered the involved cars off the road to a nearby gas station, Y/N and the offender in tow. She didn't even grab her phone from the car. Just the necessary documents to get the situation sorted.

+

'Uh we got an 11-79 on Newtown Road, on the northbound side,' the police radio rang out in Colin's car. It was around 9 pm. He was driving home from an emergency call to investigate a case he was working on. He was excited to get home to Y/N. They had big plans to sit on the couch and watch the new episode on Succession while eating way too many snacks.

'Tan Nissan sedan and green Subaru hatchback involved, change to 11-80,' the radio scratched again. Colin's heart dropped. Green Subarus are not common.

Y/N had a green Subaru. 11-79 means accident, ambulance dispatched. 11-80? Accident with major injuries.

His shaking hands reached for the mic. Giving his badge number, he asked 'what's the plate on the Subaru?' voice trembling. They wouldn't think anything of him asking that. Just in case it was relevant to his murder investigation, they'd give him any information.

'3 - 9 - 8 - Whiskey - Echo - Kilo.'

Her fucking license plate number.

Colin immediately took a right on the road he was on, turning on his lights and sirens to make a clear path for himself. His heart and mind raced as he sped along the road, trying desperately to get to Y/N on Newtown road.

He drove nearly 90 miles per hour down the backroads of Delaware County, thinking of nearly every possibility. He couldn't imagine the sight of here hurt. His stomach churned realizing that this could be very, very serious.

He got to the scene of the crash within minutes. He pulled up onto a scary scene. Two ambulances were already there. Two other officers and their cars were there, too. Pulling closer, he realized that the cars had already been moved from the road and into a parking lot. Her car was in bad shape, and so was the other guy's.

His eyes welled as he thought the worst. This was something he never wanted to experience. He parked and ran to the scene. Y/N was sitting upright in the back of an ambulance on its platform, legs dangling off the bumper. An EMT was tending to her, cleaning a wound on her face.

'Baby!' he shouted, jogging up to her. 'Y/N are you okay?' His brow furrowed, twisted into a look of sheer concern. His stomach was still a pit.

'Colin, hey,' she sighed, relieved that he was there.

The EMT stepped aside to give them their moment, leaving with a quiet 'you're good to go.' Colin stepped forward and took her face in both of his hands, staring tearily into her eyes.

'Baby, I was so worried. I heard on the radio in my car. I got here as fast as I could. Are you hurt? What did they say? Where's the other fucking bastard, I'll kill 'em. I'll-' he rambled.

'Colin, my love, I'm okay. I promise. Just bruises and scratches on the both of us,' Y/N assured him.

'Was it him? Was he the one that hit you?' Colin spat loudly, pointing in the direction of the offender.

'Shh, Colin, yes, it's okay. My car will be okay, I will be okay, I promise,' she whispered.

'I swear, Y/N, I will kill the son of a bitch. How dare he hurt you?' Colin dropped his hands and rounded on the man, who was speaking to the officers that were already on the scene. 'What the fuck is wrong with you, bud?'

'Zabel. Zabel. Enough,' Officer Clark said, putting a hand out to stop Colin.

'And you, calling this an 11-80? Are you stupid? I was terrified!' Colin yelled.

'No, Zabel, this was always an 11-81. Get your radio checked out, maybe the signal cut out on the 1. Minor injuries. Now get the fuck out of here before I tell Chief Carter, huh?'

+

The drive home was short. Colin rode with the lights and sirens on to get people out of his way. He just wanted Y/N to get home quickly and safely.

He guided her inside their home, making sure his hands never left contact with her body.

'Colin, I promise, I'm fine!' Y/N protested.

'Yeah uh huh, tell that to the gash on your forehead,' Colin insisted. 'On the couch, now.' He sat her down and grabbed a blanket out of the ottoman, wrapping her in it tightly. He rushed over to the kitchen and poured her a glass of water.

'What am I going to do with you?' Colin asked as he delivered the water to the coffee table in front of her. 'I love you so much, Y/N. You are so important to me. I can't lose you.'

'And you won't,' she smiled. 'I promise. I'm okay.'

'You look cold, let me get you another blanket,' Colin said, planting a kiss on her lips. He grabbed a second blanket from the back of the armchair in the room. 'Do you need a painkiller or something? I'm gonna turn the heat up I think.'

Y/N laughed from her blanket confines. 'How am I supposed to drink this if my arms are all wrapped up!' she chuckled. That chuckle turned into more of a cackle when she saw Colin come sprinting back into the room, pillow in one hand and a bottle of Advil in the other.

'I got it! I got it!' he declared. He propped the pillow up behind her and put down the medicine bottle, picking the glass up and bringing it to her lips. She could barely drink, she was laughing so hard.

'Colin, baby, this is why I love you,' Y/N laughed.

'This is no laughing matter, lady! Take your medicine,' he protested.

'You are so loving, and caring, and beautiful. I promise you, I'm all good,' she smiled.

His expression softened. He put down what he had in his hands and planted a giant kiss on her lips.

'Sorry, I got a little carried away, huh?' he resigned. She nodded, still smiling softly. 'Hah, 'm sorry sweetheart, I just want you to be okay.'

'And I am. Now can you please let me out of this straight jacket so we can cuddle?' Y/N asked.

'Oh, you don’t have to ask me twice!' Colin exclaimed, loosening the fabric's grip, hoisting her onto his lap.

+++

Yay! This was such a cute one. Thank you for the request! I described on of my own car accidents, lol. Personal experience pays off! 😅

[lets-try-some-writing]

can you write something where optimus is in a car crash

my brain needs something like that lol

Oh this should be good. I have wanted to write something like this for months.

Optimus's First Car Crash

Optimus has always taken every precaution when on the road with human drivers. Driving laws on Cybertron were seen as guidelines at best. No one could really stop a bot from driving or flying where they wanted, it would have been like herding cats (although by primus the cops did certainly try). As such Optimus and his team were used to having to push their way through just about everything, not caring about speed limits or traffic laws. Of course arriving on earth changed that for them and Optimus spent an enormous amount of time boggling over the many many rules regarding driving around the world.

Ratchet and the team ended up seeing the earth driving laws as a suggestion more than anything else. The Autobot medic has been forbidden from driving in city landscapes due to his blatant disregard for anything resembling a traffic light or a stop sign. The rest of the team are barely permitted and only because Agent Fowler forced them to go through rigorous driving lessons. This left Optimus, ever the gentle giant, as the only member of the team who actually gave a frag about driving properly. He has always taken driving among the humans very seriously and with extreme caution, never daring to stray from any laws. One wrong move on his part could lead to a crash, one that he would walk out of unscathed but would likely kill whoever he crashed into.

He has always been paranoid about driving among the humans, and so when his biggest fear regarding the roads became reality, he very nearly broke down. It wasn't his fault in the slightest, but being in the middle of the busy highway, one human driver got a little too eager to get ahead and ended up skidding directly into Optimus before he could even register what was happening properly. His first instinct was to try and blast the driver into oblivion, assuming it was an attacker. He was only barely able to stop himself and come to a steady stop on the edge of the highway alongside the car that had hit him.

The human driver got out immediately and started swearing up a storm and screaming at Optimus to "get out and talk". While Optimus had learned what he was supposed to do in such a situation, he still ended up freezing for a hot minute as the human driver continued to swear and call up police. It took around fifteen minutes of the driver demanding that Optimus get out before the police arrived, leaving Optimus in a bit of a panic. As the officers spoke with the driver who was exclaiming something about Optimus's unwillingness to exit his vehicle, Optimus hastily began creating a holoform. Having never done it before on such short notice, Optimus hurriedly threw together the only holoform he could conceive at the time and stay as calm as possible as he rolled down his window and spoke.

The officers heard and came over, only to immediately scream in terror and hold up their weapons. Poor Optimus being far too stressed to understand what the issue was, panicked at the possibility of being attacked and took off down the highway. It did not take long for the police to begin tailing him, lights and sirens blaring as they chased him. This only prompted Optimus to panic even more as humans are WAY out of the realm of his expertise. And assuming they had somehow figured out that he wasn't human, he drove for his life while hastily calling Ratchet.

Optimus: *in a panic* I need a ground bridge, quickly!

Ratchet: *looking a little shocked at Optimus's tone* I am locking onto your coordinates. What is going on over there?

Optimus: I got into a collision and now human police officers are in hot pursuit!

Ratchet: Alright, hold on.

Thankfully Optimus managed to turn around a corner and drove straight through the ground bridge before the cops could catch up to him. But upon entering base, he was met with many confused stares and an incredibly displeased agent Folwer who muttered something along the lines of "now we need to change your license plates". Once Optimus calmed and was asked about the situation and just what triggered the violent reaction from the police, everything became clear. It took him a moment, but as he winced as reproduced his holoform, there was no denying that any normal human being would have found the abomination terrifying.

In his panicked state Optimus had thrown together the most uncanny valley looking thing known to mankind. It was a strange mess of male and female proportions, it had blotchy discolored skin, an extra limb, and a terrifying smile. Not to mention the thing was huge compared to the average human due to just how unsettled Optimus was at the time. It was no surprise the humans were terrified. Even the team looked at the holoform with mild horror.

Fowler: *chocking on his coffee* What the hell is that!

Miko: *looking at the holoform in mixed fear and awe* It looks like a zombie!

Jack: *trying not to gag* How is that even supposed to be human?!

Rafael: *taking off his glasses and cleaning them again just to be sure that he is seeing correctly* How did you even make something like that?!

The Team: *looks at Optimus judgmentally*

Optimus: ...

Optimus: I may have panicked.

Optimus didn't go driving in any cities or highways for a while after that, too paranoid of dealing with the same situation again. He was also given a very stern lesson by June on what human anatomy should look like. And since then he has a prepared holoform ready to go and several scripts to read from in case he ever gets pulled over again. Still, he can't help the slight nervousness that pokes at his mind every time a cop passes by.

[officiallordvetinari]

I know you've all been waiting eagerly for it, and here it is: the first Wikipedia poll of the new year! Links and summaries below the cut as always.

On 29 September 1940, a mid-air collision occurred over Brocklesby, New South Wales, Australia. The accident was unusual in that the aircraft involved, two Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF) Avro Ansons of No. 2 Service Flying Training School, remained locked together after colliding, and then landed safely.

On 11 May 1812, at about 5:15 pm, Spencer Perceval, the prime minister of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, was shot dead in the lobby of the House of Commons by John Bellingham, a Liverpool merchant with a grievance against the government. Bellingham was detained; four days after the murder, he was tried, convicted and sentenced to death.

The Dorset Ooser (/ˈoʊsər/) is a wooden head that featured in the 19th-century folk culture of Melbury Osmond, a village in the southwestern English county of Dorset. The head was hollow, thus perhaps serving as a mask, and included a humanoid face with horns, a beard, and a hinged jaw which allowed the mouth to open and close.

The Ediacaran (/ˌiːdiˈækərən/; formerly Vendian) biota is a taxonomic period classification that consists of all life forms that were present on Earth during the Ediacaran Period (c. 635–538.8 Mya). These were enigmatic tubular and frond-shaped, mostly sessile, organisms. Trace fossils of these organisms have been found worldwide, and represent the earliest known complex multicellular organisms.

John Rykener, also known as Eleanor, was a 14th-century sex worker arrested in December 1394 for performing a sex act with John Britby, a man who was a former chaplain of the St Margaret Pattens church, in London's Cheapside while wearing female attire. Although historians tentatively link Rykener, who was male, to a prisoner of the same name, the only known facts of the sex worker's life come from an interrogation made by the mayor of London.

Norwich Market (also known as Norwich Provision Market) is an outdoor market consisting of around 200 stalls in central Norwich, England. Founded in the latter part of the 11th century to supply Norman merchants and settlers moving to the area following the Norman conquest of England, it replaced an earlier market a short distance away. It has been in operation on the present site for over 900 years.

Olive Elaine Morris (26 June 1952 – 12 July 1979) was a Jamaican-born British-based community leader and activist in the feminist, black nationalist, and squatters' rights campaigns of the 1970s. At the age of 17, she claimed she was assaulted by Metropolitan Police officers following an incident involving a Nigerian diplomat in Brixton, South London. She joined the British Black Panthers, becoming a Marxist–Leninist communist and a radical feminist.

Paul Palaiologos Tagaris (Greek: Παῦλος Παλαιολόγος Τάγαρις, c. 1320/1340 – after 1394) was a Byzantine Greek monk and impostor. A scion of the Tagaris family, Paul also claimed a somewhat dubious connection with the Palaiologos dynasty that ruled the Byzantine Empire at the time. He fled his marriage as a teenager and became a monk, but soon his fraudulent practices embroiled him in scandal.

The Royal baccarat scandal, also known as the Tranby Croft affair, was a British gambling scandal of the late 19th century involving the Prince of Wales—the future King Edward VII. The scandal started during a house party in September 1890, when Sir William Gordon-Cumming, a lieutenant colonel in the Scots Guards, was accused of cheating at baccarat.

In a protracted conflict during the Spanish colonization of the Americas, Spanish colonisers gradually incorporated the territory that became the modern country of Guatemala into the colonial Viceroyalty of New Spain. Before the conquest, this territory contained a number of competing Mesoamerican kingdoms, the majority of which were Maya.

[noiranamnesis]

An Artful Offense

closed starter: @retrograderesemblance for Bud

...

A light clicking of heels carried over polished tile, dark curls fastened in a low bun with a weathered briefcase in hand. On her left she was accompanied by a less than pleased Police Chief though she paid him little mind. Far too consumed by the thinly veiled chaos which seemed palpable within the police department’s walls. A scattering of men, badges, and files. Somehow it both met and defied expectations conveyed by Sheriff Miller days prior.

“Officer White.” The Chief abruptly stopped, Françoise avoiding collision by a narrow margin. “Meet Miss…” He trailed off, dismissive gaze shifting to her expectantly.

Glancing from the Chief to Officer White she gave a polite nod. “Miss Beauséjour-”

“Right.” The Chief’s voice was void of interest. “She’s been sent by the Sheriff’s Office about the string of art thefts. Apparently, she believes the pieces we recovered and returned were forgeries.” He practically ground out behind thinly veiled respectability. “Until we get this ironed out, consider her your shadow.” The look in his eyes made it clear he had every intention of smoking both her and the Sheriff’s influence out of their jurisdiction. “Understood?” He turned to Françoise then, flashing a strained smile. “Good luck, Miss.”

Françoise remained perfectly at ease, not bothering to smile in return. “Thank you, Chief.” Only when his heavy steps faded did she speak again. “I hear you have the case files?” 

[artdecosupernova-writing]

OC Kiss Week Day 6: Reach

WIP: Misfortunate Sol Pairing: Cal x Sol Timeline: an alternate universe version of events. this in no way spoils the real plot. CW: Fire, death, blood, gun violence. it's not that bad but it's better to err on the side of caution Rating: T Words: 2,150

***

Detective Calvin Logan entered the precinct at an unusually early time in the midst of utter chaos. He was so bereft of his first cup of coffee, however, that he didn't even notice the state of the place until he attempted to rectify his delayed caffeine situation.

He grumbled under his breath as he poured already-aging coffee into the first mug he got his hands on—a stout metal cup the police captain had brought in from his time in the war.

Cal looked up and squinted at the cops running around, papers flying, telephone operators being yelled at. He almost didn't catch himself in time before he overflowed the cup and coffee splashed onto the floor at his feet.

"What's goin' on?" he asked Officer Melvin Funkwhistle on his way past at nearly the speed of a barreling train. For a brief instant Cal mused to himself that perhaps the officer was running away from his unfortunate name, and he found he had trouble tamping down the distracted grin that formed on his face in response.

"There's something happening at the Majesty Hotel," Funkwhistle said over his shoulder. "Captain's sending out cars to handle it."

Cal frowned alongside his first sip of coffee and couldn't even enjoy it. "The Majesty? What's happening at the Majesty?"

Funkwhistle was already gone, but Captain O'Reilly stepped into his line of vision as a decent substitute. He tugged at his Sam Browne belt and addressed Cal with seriousness bordering unpleasant at such an early time of day.

"We got a call about an hour ago regarding a possible hostage situation," O'Reilly said, his thick mustache twitching. "We believe the guests and staff are being kept prisoner by an unknown assailant. There's been a fire allegedly set—"

Where the news of a strange person holding the hotel hostage previously did not jar Cal fully out of his bleariness, the news of a possible fire rattled him enough to send a drop of coffee into the wrong pipe.

He hacked around the offending liquid and pounded a fist into his chest. "A fire—Captain?!" He stared with wild eyes at his boss, disposing of his coffee and the cup into the trash can beside him. "I gotta...you gotta let me—"

"No," O'Reilly barked immediately, all but diving into the trash to retrieve the cup. "We have enough cars headed that way now. You'll get a chance when the situation is dealt with—"

All Cal could think about was Solomon Maxwell Iron. If the guests and the staff were being held hostage, that meant Sol, too. The strangeness of having had a heated argument with him the previous night about something trivial—about how Cal couldn't seem to leave the poor man alone regarding the deaths that followed him everywhere—and now he was likely in grievous danger...

"You got this call an hour ago?!" Cal roared suddenly. He felt the color leaving his face as surely as he felt disbelief boiling into rage in the pit of his chest. "And you're just now controlling the situation?!"

"The legitimacy—"

Cal did not think the captain was incompetent. He always respected him, held him in high regard in the day-to-day, which is why this display of suspicion surprised him.

All he could recall of the following sequence of events was grunting something about his acceptance toward being fired later, then tearing down the somewhat busy street in a screaming squad car, his arms burning from the urgency of cranking the siren and avoiding a collision all at once.

His heart leapt into his throat as soon as he careened around the final corner leading to the Majesty Hotel, and it had little to do with nearly flattening the officer directing traffic at that particular intersection.

A plume of thick, black smoke curled up from somewhere on the building, pouring into the sky not unlike Cal's unhelpful coffee into the frazzled captain's war cup.

"C'mon," Cal muttered partially to Sol, who definitively was not anywhere around, and partially to the living obstacles standing between him and the hotel. "C'mon, kid, please make a damn fool outta me."

By some miracle he managed to put the car in park somewhere he wouldn't remember later before sprinting into the gaggle of police gathered across the road from the hotel.

"Get me in there," he demanded, utterly disinterested in having a chance to catch his breath. "If that fire spreads—"

Sergeant Pickering swung around to aim a bullhorn in Cal's face. "The fire brigade is on the way," he said into the device, slowly and with force as if scolding a child for the tenth time in as many minutes, "do not even breathe at that hotel until I have given the all-clear, Logan."

"The fire brigade's on the way, meanwhile a possible mass murderer has a buffet of choice at their fingertips while we stand around waiting," Cal snapped.

"Which is precisely why we are not to rush in without a plan," Pickering retorted, waving some of his subordinate officers away. "This calamity is dangerous and sensitive. We can't risk anything going wrong, here."

Cal dropped steely eyes onto Pickering from his outside assessment of the hotel. He'd never felt this riled up, this feral with fear and determination before in his life. "Where's the assailant?"

"We've determined they're possibly based on the top floor, where the fire is located—"

"Are the elevators operational?"

"No, and furthermore—"

"If I fail, shoot me," Cal said before breaking into another sprint away from the assaulting bullhorn.

Instead of going through the front doors, he veered off to the left, keeping an eye out for the side entrance Sol had thrown him through in his attempts to get the investigations off his back. All of his effort to stop Cal from doing his job.

As he slipped through the unassuming door, the first thing he noticed was that the smell of smoke wasn't very strong in that portion of the hotel yet. The emptiness of the hallways proved eerie, sending a sprout of goosebumps over his arms.

He jogged through the kitchen and eventually the lobby, vigilant for any sign of life, his gun drawn and ready. He ascended the stairs, pausing beside a body laid out face-down on the landing floor.

He peered down at the body and his frown deepened. He didn't recognize him, but he wore a luxurious smoking jacket stained with a massive patch of blood on the back, and his hair was unruly, sticking up and out at odd angles. A guest, it seemed.

Cal's shoulders tensed and he felt a prickle at the back of his neck. Carefully, he turned toward the doors leading to the second floor.

A person wearing a Hallowe'en mask, a piece of leather with holes cut out for the eyes, nose, and mouth, stood at the door with an arm hooked tightly around Sol's neck, the muzzle of a pistol pressed against the side of his head. The masked person was taller than Sol, taller than Cal, and they breathed through their mouth as if the nose hole wasn't sufficient.

Sol coughed hard and regarded Cal with surprise, fingers gripping onto his captor's arm hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. "D-Detective?" he said meekly.

Cal ignored him. Had to. If he thought too hard about the dark, angry bruises around Sol's eyes, the officers outside would have to shoot his corpse.

He shifted his attention to the masked person, hoping the sheen of sweat forming on his forehead would go unnoticed. "...Is this what you wanted? To set fire to innocent civilians?"

"Innocent in what capacity?" they said. "Sapping society of a living? Marring the economy and deepening the Depression? You consider that innocent?"

The question confused Cal for a moment before he realized what was happening. "What part do the hotel staff have to play in that? They're just trying to make a living like anyone else."

"These people are a cancer," the masked person spat, jerking the gun in the direction of the guest's body on the floor. "And the ones working for them are even worse for providing their services. Why don't you understand?" Something dawned over what little could be seen of their face. "...I wish you'd understand."

"Don't," Cal growled in warning as the masked person cocked the hammer back on their pistol and pressed the muzzle once again into Sol's skull.

Cal lifted his gun and fired. The shot downed the person instantly, catching them between the eyes. Sol stumbled, nearly taking a header down the stairs before Cal lunged at him and pressed him backward, away from the bodies.

"Police are waiting outside," Cal said hoarsely. "Where are the hostages?"

"Top...top floor," Sol stammered. He looked at Cal as if seeing him for the first time. "There's a fire up there."

"Get outside," Cal ordered, taking Sol's hand in a firm grip and carefully turning him toward the front doors. "Stay with the cops. Stay safe."

"I won't leave you." Sol's eyes, not as swollen as they could've been, welled. He swallowed thickly. "I...don't want to leave you."

Cal's chest filled with something he couldn't decipher. A feeling of dread, something strong and intense, rotten and sour and warm and wonderful. His brow furrowed and he found his brain wouldn't form recognizable thoughts at first. All he could see when he looked at Sol was the anger and desperation in his face the last time they spoke. Despite their previous lighthearted interactions, Cal suspected Sol truly hated him in that moment, and he couldn't fathom ever seeing the expression of terror and worry on his face that he saw right now.

"I'm sorry," Cal whispered, squeezing Sol's hand. "For everything."

Sol stepped forward and drew Cal into a gentle, tentative, yet irrecoverable kiss. Then another one. But it was all quick, too quick, and Cal used the hand holding his weapon to swipe at his mouth when he stepped away.

"Get out of here before I have to let the cops shoot me," Cal said gruffly. "Will you go if I promise to make it out of here in one piece?"

Sol, fat tears streaming down his contused face and wrenching Cal's heart into a painful twist, nodded. "Go. Be careful."

Cal sniffed and swept through the doors leading onto the second floor, running through the hotel until he reached the blazing inferno on the second to last floor. To his surprise and relief, the guests were already there, hurrying down the stairs and obeying every direction Cal gave them. The group going down ran into the fire brigade going up.

"About damn time," Cal muttered on their way past.

"Wanna deal with the dead people or you want us to do that, too?" the fire captain retorted.

Cal let loose a surprised laugh painted with mild hysteria, ushering the guests and staff the rest of the way down the stairs.

The cops piled in to pull the civilians out of harm's way, ambulance attendants wrapping blankets around them and hurrying them to safety.

Cal pivoted to look back at the hotel, which, from that angle, looked unremarkable and untouched. Only when he backed up could he see the smoke rising from the top.

In doing so, he nearly bowled over Sol, who took his wrist and ran with him across the street, through the park, and under a bridge. The place was empty due to the crowd that had formed at the hotel, and Sol shivered violently under his blanket as he peered up at Cal with big, injured eyes.

"I figured they'd be angry at you," Sol said. "And I'm entitled to be angry at you, too, not just for what you did today, but after this..." He shook his head, gaze lingering on Cal's face. "It all feels so silly now."

"It's not silly." Cal realized he'd been holding the gun up to that point and he hastily opened his trench coat to holster it under his arm. "I needled you for quite a while. I wouldn't blame you for hating my guts by now."

"If something happened to you in that hotel, I wouldn't have been able to withstand the pain." Sol tipped his head, his expression unreadable. "...How could I hate someone who made me want to kiss them goodbye?"

Cal stared down at him, surprised once again. "Would you want to...kiss me hello?"

Sol looked as if he wanted to laugh and burst into tears simultaneously. He reached up to grasp Cal's face and brought him down, locking their lips together in a genuine, tender kiss that jellified Cal's knees and stole his breath from his lungs. Cal reciprocated, holding him close and gingerly as if Sol were fragile, and Cal decided he was very glad he didn't have to be shot by his colleagues after all.

[queenoftsage]

In other news....

I was just in a head on collision. However, my brother, mom, and I survived, because WE WERE IN A PARKING LOT. The dude that rammed into us, was driving way too hard. Like fuck him.

I'm still in shock at the fact that he didn't stop at all. LIKE DUDE... Did you not see us in front of your big ass truck? .... fucking hell.

I stayed in the car the whole time my brother was talking to the dude, mainly to avoid a confrontation because it made me even more angry to see him all relaxed and take out his fucking vaping thing. Like.... Give me a fucking BREAK! your big ass truck weren't hurt, so you were so relaxed. THE FUCKING AUDACITY! Of the WHITEXICAN CAUCASITY. Dude was also lucky it was just us three. If my father would have been in the car, this would probably have gotten really bad. My dad is the type that will start shit on the spot, so I was thankful for him not being there.

Also, I stayed in the car because I was trying to calm myself down. Not because I was scared, but because I was angry. I saw the dude just like... RAM into us. He didn't stop at all! Like, what the actual FUCK. And why would you do that in a parking lot? WHY? lol.

fucking hell... And then the car we were all in, is my car, and the ONLY car we have. Now we have to worry about it breaking down again in the future if that fucking dude messed up something in it. ALSO, there was a police officer lady that popped out of nowhere, and just asked if we were ok, but since they saw that we were ok, she left.

I'm like... DA FUCK just happened right now? What is this? Why is this? Either way, we're all ok, and the car is bumped in the front. The poor thing needs so much fixing and we're lacking the money as per usual. It's annoying to go through these things. Like, bitch, why? Why did you not stop when you saw us coming? Why did you just ram your big ass truck into our car!?

That's what I wanted to ask, but I chose 'peace' as opposed to going full 'KAREN' on the dude. My dad would have probably gone full 'KAREN' on him.

... *sighs* .... This just makes me wonder... What's next, 'God of the white people? What's fucking next? What you got up your sleeve? hnnnn?'

... yeah I'm fucking angry. Not even scared. The initial feeling was shock, then anger, instead of fear.

[raging-violets]

you've always been the most important person in my life. + kiley?

A/N: Saw in this post, that you were feeling nostalgic and it kicked my ass into gear to get this one up. There is also a Rated M/Explicit version of this I'm working on as well! And despite where I cut it off with a read more, this is not an heavy angsty piece, it's a fluffy one!

-

Riley had been sitting through a more than boring business meeting—who the hell actually cared what countries brought in the most clicks on their social media pages?—when she got the phone call.

Thank God, she thought, twisting her features to make an exaggerated expression of apology before slipping out of the board room. She could practically feel the jealous glares of her brothers and sister as she escaped the tedium of the day to slip outside.

Riley glanced at the number that came up on the screen and sighed lightly. Not recognizing it, a bit of trepidation rolled through her stomach. Most people had anxiety about talking on the phone, that never bothered her. She loved talking on the phone, but when it was unknown numbers, it was what made an eyebrow quirk.

Especially after that time some more than exuberant fans had managed to sleuth their ways through the internet and leak her phone number. A few well-timed cease and desist letters and strongly worked police involvement had nipped that in the bud.

Now, unknown numbers gave her pause. But something in her gut told her to answer it.

“Hello?”

“I’m sorry, to bother you ma’am,” came the voice on the other end of the line. Riley’s hackles immediately started to rise. No one called her ma’am. Her cheeks started to flush, ready to take on whomever decided to grab her number once more. Especially when it continued with, “but is this… Riley…?” trailing off a second as if they were determining if they’d actually called her, “Oh, Riley Jackson?”

She sucked in a deep breath through her nose, working to keep her temper in check and focused on the tone of the voice speaking to her. It didn’t sound young enough to be a fan, but that’d tripped her up before.

“Speaking,” she replied flatly.

“This is Mason Lee, I’m calling from the Los Angeles Sports Center.” Riley’s eyebrows came together. “And you’re listed as the emergency contact for Kendall Knight, I’m afraid there’s been an incident.”

All at once, Riley felt the heat leave her face as concern took over. “Is he okay?”

“He’s had a nasty collision while on the ice, so if you could come in, we could discuss the extent of his injuries.”

Riley pressed her lips together. Logan had always been vocal about what certain words of injuries meant. Not to mention her own dreams of being a doctor…and all of the time she’d spent in doctor’s offices due to her injuries from Robert. If a doctor wanted to speak to someone in person, it either meant there was a serious injury or a serious run of recovery that was needed.

“What the fuck did you do now, Hockey-Head?”

“Ma’am?”

Riley chuckled to herself, not realizing she’d said her mental questions out loud. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

 Riley quickly sent a text message to Ronan about leaving the rest of the meeting, and hurried to the sports complex.

When she arrived and was taken back to the medicine room, Riley twisted her fingers together. Her blood pressure rose with each step she took, breath coming up faster and faster. With every step she took, images of the time spent in hospitals and doctor’s offices flashed through her head. A broken arm here, a busted lip there, cuts, bruises, sprains, abrasions. All the ways one could be abused flew through her mind.

It'd been a few years since Robert had been removed as her foster parent and had been charged and sentenced, but the memories were always fresh. It was no wonder she’d frozen when taking the MCAT with Logan.

The terror she worked hard to hide must’ve been emblazoned across her face as she scanned the area because a Asian man wearing a grey polo with the complex’s name on the front strode toward her.

“Miss. Jackson?” He asked. “I’m Mason Lee.”

“You can call me, Riley, mate,” she said quickly. “Is Kendall okay?”

Mason Lee chuckled. “Kendall’s going to be okay. I just wanted you to be aware of what happened. Kendall was practicing on the ice and he got into an altercation with some other players out here. They went around a few times and went into the boards and they’ve received some injuries.”

Folding her arms, Riley jutted out her hip. “What was the bloody fight about?” She knew the answer before it was given, then nodded when Mason said, “From what I can understand, the other guys were giving him a hard time about being in a boyband and playing hockey…”

Mason smiled at the roll of her eyes. “He’s in good spirits, but he’s gotten a few injuries. He’ll need a lot of rest and he needs to stay off the ice for the next couple of weeks. He won’t be able to perform for the next couple of weeks as well.”

“Well, he’s sustained multiple injuries, but with plenty rest, and lots of pain killers, he’ll make full recovery in no time I’m sure,” Lance explained, lifting a weight off Merlin as he spoke, “he’s very lucky he came out of this with what he did, it could have been much worse.”

She nodded, still twisting her fingers together despite them being tucked out of site. The quicker she saw him, the quicker she’d be able to breathe.

“And as if it, we don’t tolerate fighting here so he’s banned from the complex for the same amount of time he’ll be in recovery.”

“I don’t expect he’ll dislike anything less,” Riley murmured. She ran a hand through her hair, briefly closing her eyes. When she opened them she asked, “Can I see him?”

“Absolutely, he’s been asking for you.”

They walked into the room Kendall was in and he immediately looked up and smiled when he saw Riley coming toward him despite the frustration and aggression that sagged his shoulders forward. He reached out a hand that Riley took and immediately wrapped him up in a hug. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close to him.

She breathed in deeply, taking in the scent that was him and feeling him strong and study despite the bandages coating a wrist and his foot.

“Are you okay?”

It took a moment for Riley to realize Kendall was asking her the question, not her asking him.

“Yeah,” she replied, pulling back to look him in the eye. Her expression softened into a mixture of compassion and frustration; much like any girlfriend would have for a boyfriend who managed to hurt themselves. “Are you?”

Kendall smiled a sweet smile, bringing his hands down to grab hers. “You’re shaking,” he said.

She was trembling like a leaf. He knew she hated hospitals. And it wasn’t even a fucking hospital. “You called me here!”

“And you came,” Kendall replied, sounding like a proud little boy.

Riley rolled her eyes. She grasped Kendall’s face and kissed him. “I came,” she replied. “Of course I would. What happened?”

“I got into a fight.”

“I can see that!”

Kendall shot her a look, his face softening the moment their eyes met, and he sighed, shaking his head. “It was stupid, I was just skating around. And these guys started to hassle me about getting into the junior leagues and being in a boyband and…it was dumb.”

“Fucking right, boofhead,” Riley shot back. “Your leg’s broken!”

“It’s sprained,” he said, trying to placate her. “And so’s my wrist.” He kissed her again. “I’m fine, Ruby, I promise.”

Riley sighed, her shoulders slumping. “What’d your mum say?”

He looked at her. “She doesn’t know yet.”

Her eyebrows flew up at that, dark blue eyes widening. “She doesn’t know?”

“No, I only called you.”

Riley thought for a moment, thinking back to what Mason Lee had told her. Emergency contact… She took in a surprised breath through her nose, then studied her boyfriend. Her blonde, bandaged, boofheaded boyfriend.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he added quickly, taking her silence for anger. “Not on purpose, Riles, I swear I wouldn’t scare you like this on purpose.”

But she wasn’t thinking about that. Shek new he never would. No, she continued to roll the words Emergency Contact through her head, almost as if it were a mantra. “You didn’t call your mum?” she asked. Kendall shrugged. “You put me as your emergency contact, yeah?”

“Yeah…” Kendall looked her in the eye. “You’re the most important person in my life, Riles. You’ve always been the most important person in my life. If there’s anyone I want by my side with this hockey stuff, the good and the bad, it’s you.”

Riley smiled and leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his, gently rubbed her nose against his. Ignored her want to make a comment about his nose poking out her eye, ignored her initial reaction to remind him that James would probably have something to say about that. Simply basked in the vulnerable moment with her boyfriend who she loved dearly, no matter how many stupid hockey injuries he would end up getting. He was about to go into the junior hockey league, it was probably going to happen more as time went on.

Time to get used to it.

“And if it didn’t hurt like hell to move right now,” his voice dropped to a low murmur. “I’d show you how important you are to me…”

“Fuck off,” she leaned back and pushed his head aside as he chuckled. She reached up and ran a hand through his hair. “Let’s get you back to the crib. I think you’ve had enough fun for today.”

After getting more care instructions from the facility’s medical team, Kendall and Riley went back to 2J, with Riley holding the door as he stubbornly worked his crutches through the lobby and up to the room. She motioned for him to sit on the couch before disappearing into the kitchen to get him some food.

She’d turned back around to find him stretched out on the couch, watching her carefully. “What?” She asked.

“Nothing, just…” Kendall smiled serenely, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She walked back over to him and leaned over, giving him a long kiss. “Especially because your call got me out of the most boring meeting I’ve ever sat through.”

“I’m so glad that both of us are getting something out of this.”

“What are you getting?”

“Time away from Gustavo.” Riley laughed at Kendall’s quick response. “And my own personal nurse.”

At that, Riley shook her head. She reached out for Kendall’s hand and hefted him to his feet before leading him toward the bathroom.

“What are you doing?” Kendall asked.

“I’m running you a bath,” Riley replied, her nose wrinkled, eyes flashing. “As much as I like it when you smell like sweat…you really smell gross.”

[charles-and-camilla-fanfictions]

All the Time in the World - Chapter 3

Birkhall, January 2020

The stormy weather, appropriately, hasn’t ceased all morning and the summons to Balmoral come before I have managed to calm him. I find it so difficult when I’m angry too, the emotions this whips up are so personal, wounds very deeply hidden and tightly bound. My hands are shaking when I reach up to kiss him goodbye.

“You never let me do this, what Harry’s doing. I begged you so many times.”

And here it starts. That guilt, that uncertainty, even at me. “It wasn’t what you wanted. I didn’t want you to destroy your family, your life, your birthright, because of me.”

“I should have fought for you.”

“You did, in your own way. I never wanted the destruction necessary to be with me.”

“I didn’t look after you enough.”

“Charles, when Andrew and I got divorced, you kept the roof over my head, both metaphorically and physically. You made sure I had food sent to me, a car and petrol so I could get about, every book published to entertain me… You looked after me.” 

“I didn’t keep you safe.”

“Yes, you did! I’ve had police protection since ’97…” My voice trails off. I neglect to mention why he paid for police protection for me, why he enfolded me into his household and he looks at me even more guiltily.

“Far too late… I should have anticipated the impact this would have had on you.”

To this day, I occasionally get nightmares about head-on collisions in a car. These twisted nightmares attribute blame to the people in my life I know would prefer me not to be where I am, but the day I lived that nightmare felt like I was hovering above myself, watching myself, in a state of complete terror. I still remember the shock when I turned the corner to see that other car, the jolt of the impact and the screeching and groaning of metal twisting and buckling. There was no pain. I realised I was alive and yanked off my seatbelt, kicked the door to get out of the car and staggered over to the other. It was upside down, the wheels still spinning. I took one look at the blonde woman at the steering wheel, blood on her face and I screamed and ran. At that moment, I thought I’d killed her. I ran until my lungs burst and then I collapsed upon the roadside verge and hysteria took over. At some point, I’d regained enough of my faculties to ring Charles, sobbing again and again that I’d killed her. It didn’t matter what he said, sense was not with me and I don’t know to this day how long it took him to figure out enough to send his protection officers to find me. They couldn’t console me when they arrived, nor get any sense out of me until they informed me that the woman whose car I’d hit was alive, more shaken than hurt, and angry that I’d left her upside down whilst I ran off, screaming. 

Charles was calm and gentle with me, downplaying the incident, but the parallels of the accident shook him to the core and made him reevaluate my position. From that afternoon, I relinquished a large chunk of my freedom for a chauffeur and my own police protection as it made him realise that I was a public figure now and that people might want to cause me harm. But it was as much for our reputation as for my safety. That cold rational part inside my brain knows that if that woman had died in a car accident because of me, nothing would be able to rehabilitate me. We would never be able to be together.

“I didn’t protect you from the press.”

His words pull me from the squealing of brakes and I’m grateful. “You couldn’t protect yourself. How were you meant to protect me?”

“That’s all Harry wants for Megan, I do understand that… But…”

“...Harry and Megan are perfectly safe here.”

“Yes… Harry doesn’t realise that not only was he allowed to marry the woman he loves, it was encouraged, celebrated.”

“It’s a different time.”

“He should be grateful.”

“No, he shouldn’t.” He’s no longer talking about Harry. His thoughts are firmly on our difficulties. “What happened to us was not okay. Everyone should be allowed to marry the person they love.”

“If you’d have married me in the first place…”

“It was a different time…”

“I don’t understand what more he needs.”

“He’s not you.”

“She’s not you, more like.”

“Good. I’m sure that would be illegal. I know we said we should be able to marry who we want, but there are steps too far and lines which shouldn’t be crossed.”

That makes him chuckle. “I’m certainly pleased you find it so abhorrent. There’s technically no law against it. You’d both be consenting adults.”

“I’m sure it’s happened in the past. Oedipus?”

He chuckles again, kissing me on the forehead. “Let me go, Darling, my own mother, who I have no intention of marrying, is calling.”

“Battle stations.”

“William will be apoplectic.”

“I’ll phone Katherine.”

“Since when do you two get on?”

“We’ve always got on.”

“Phone calls at times of strife to share gossip?”

“I’m a very good ally. I, actually, quite like her although I have to try really hard not to be insufferably posh and I think she’s warmed to me too.”

“She married a bloody Prince. Too posh? What was she expecting?”

“Shut up and go to your summons.”

“Everything in this bloody family is always such an absolute catastrophe.”

“Yes, you’re right.”

“I just can’t believe he would do a thing like this, and expect there to be no consequences. My mother isn’t going to be thinking about that little boy she used to chase about the room when she draws her sword.”

“Will you be sticking up for him?”

“I just don’t think it’s possible. I can’t exactly put my neck out for him because then that will be seen as a slight against William. And I’m so angry at him, Darling. What should I do? Tell me what to do.”

“What’s the most important thing?”

“The Crown. Always the Crown.”

“That’s your answer. William is your choice. But remember through your anger that he’s Diana’s boy.”

“I know he’s Diana’s boy. That’s never been the dispute.”

“No. I mean, in the eyes of the public. Don’t forget.”

He sighs, “I’m not bloody likely to, am I?” and then pushes his head into my neck, signifying the end of the conversation and I hold him to me, swaying slightly as though to some inaudible music, not wanting to let him go.

“What will you do when I’m gone?”

That makes me smile. “What I usually do when you’re away, prepping for the apocalypse.”

“But it’s meant to be our holiday, together, and I’m constantly away…”

“Life is like that sometimes…” 

“Hold on…” I smile at him as I see him register my words. “Apocalypse?”

“The Chinese virus.”

“You’re obsessed with that bloody thing.”

“No harm in being prepared.”

“Well don’t get another bright idea to install wifi or something else abhorrent in my absence.”

“Would I ever?”

“Yes… You absolutely would.”

“Go and see your mother. When you get back, we can put on wetsuits and go for a walk.”

“Make sure the fires are lit, I don’t want you getting ill with the cold and damp.”

“If you’d let me fully renovate…”

“Don’t be drastic.”

“Shoo… See you later…”

Not quite unbeknownst to my husband, I’ve used the time he’s spent in war cabinets with his family to plot renovations to the house to try to minimise the drafts and the damp and to brighten the place up a little. I’ve read through the briefings on my husband’s desk about the virus in Wuhan and I know that we’ll be sent here, away from everyone for his protection if it spreads. This house is barely livable but he’s against change of any sort so I’ve spent a considerable amount of time with colour cards, matching up the shades of the walls and ordering the correct paints. I’ve also booked a glazier and several carpenters to solve the problem of the drafts inside and I’ve secretly paid for a new boiler to be installed, bypassing his deliberations so it happens this century. Irritating the head gardener considerably, I’ve doubled the extent of the kitchen gardens to make us self-sufficient. If everything goes to plan, the estate might actually be livable by the end of January. I know from past experience how uncomfortable this house can be in the cold and there’s no harm in being prepared. 

2010, Birkhall

It’s so cold my breath is condensing in front of my face. Which, ordinarily, occurs outside, not whilst I’m sitting at breakfast with my husband. We’ve managed to seclude ourselves after the stress of Christmas in perfect isolation from the world, just the two of us and my sister and brother-in-law. No polite conversations with inclement family members or sycophantic social climbers. It’s bliss. Arctic style. The thermostat reached zero this morning for the first time since I can remember. I mention this to my husband who laughs at me.

“We use Celcius nowadays, Darling.”

“Tell that to your barometer.”

“I use the laptop to determine the weather. It’s more accurate.”

“I prefer the old fashioned method. What’s a laptop but a lump of metal and plastic?”

“Yet, connected to the internet and power, it’s technically precise.”

“How did you connect… Don’t answer. I don’t actually want to know…”

He smirks at me and blows out a plume of white condensation. It shouldn’t be this cold inside. The fire is flickering brightly but it’s not been lit for long and doesn’t have that residual heat it needs to be warming. The morning shines grey through the windows and I can see the ice growing in patterns up the glass, reflecting the light into odd directions, making the room feel dimmer. I’m wearing an ancient fur coat, one I’m not allowed to wear outside anymore, and I can see my husband’s concern each time I bring my fork to my mouth. I hover my scrambled eggs just above it to watch him wince and then smile as I eat my mouthful. I have this glint of evil inside me which makes me want to pour my breakfast down myself to watch his reaction. I don’t, of course. A cackle of laughter disturbs me and I turn to see my sister walk through the door, wrapped head to toe in a blanket of tartan.

“You look like the Empress of Prussia sat there in your Ushanka and coat, inside. All you need is a muff!”

“That’s because she’s probably wearing the last Empress of Prussia’s coat.”

“I found it at the back of a cupboard, left to feed the moths.”

“And now you’re subjecting it to eggs…”

I laugh. I knew it was bothering him.

“Well at least it’s sensible attire for the temperature.” Ever the conciliator, my sister. She plonks herself down next to me and starts picking at my eggs. “I looked at the barometer, it’s zero degrees!”

“Minus eighteen.” 

Charles almost makes me splutter my eggs down myself. 

“It’s not Antartica, Sir, that’s a little extreme.”

“Celsius. Goodness. Can you Shand girls not keep up with the times?”

“Speaks the living relic of an ancient time!”

I listen to them bicker through breakfast with a twinkle in my eye even if I’m quite aware I must keep out of the argument.

“Darling, did you hear what she just called me?”

“Temporary deafness, I’m afraid...”

“Darling Milla, your husband is quite incorrigible. Surely you won’t stand for what he just said.”

“I was stuck in a daydream, I’m very sorry…”

Skiing is not my usual passtime. We never went as children and whilst my sister took up the hobby like the majority of our generation with the ease of the flights and enjoyed the buzz of the resorts, I hated flying and my ex-husband, Andrew, never particularly wanted to go, at least not with me. By the time Charles and I were able to holiday together, I had no wish to learn alone on the nursery slopes at Klosters whilst Charles hurtled off-piste down a mountainside. Instead, I’ve been subjected to yearly torments at Aviemore before we finally compromised on Clashindarroch Forest. It suits his green objectives and for me it’s so much easier, not having to face death by careering down a run on wobbly legs. The skis are lighter, we spend half the time trudging uphill and the slopes are much more gentle. We both find the forest beautiful under the blanket of snow and we end up getting cold as we insist on stopping to watch a bird we spot or because we’re transfixed by the view.

This year, we are able to ski cross-country on the Birkhall estate. A blanket of snow six feet deep has covered most of Scotland and both post and supplies are being airlifted in, but here the snow isn’t so thick and it’s perfect to ski on. I think this is Charles’s idea of heaven, being the tour guide around Birkhall, on skis, with me and a captive audience. I’m actually a fair cross-country skier by now and to my absolute delight, my brother-in-law is struggling somewhat. So for the first time ever, I’m the person keeping up with Charles and we get these wonderful quiet moments to ourselves, listening to the sound of the snow falling from the branches with a thud to the ground, spotting the deer in the distance before the other two catch up. My sister is red in the face with the exertion of climbing up each hill but I’m used to him dragging me up mountains and even carrying my skis through the snow doesn’t feel too tiresome. He’s so happy to have me with him, his eyes are soft each time he looks at me and he stands as close to me as he can get.

“Look, the stream is running.”

“Of course.”

“But it’s so cold!”

“The spring isn’t far from here. It’s warmer underground and it’s moving so fast it hasn’t time for the surface to freeze.”

“Will the loch be frozen?”

“Loch Ullachie, yes, definitely.”

“Can we go ice skating?”

He laughs at me and glides to a stop by the side of the stream. “What? On the rusty blades left to die in the outhouse?”

“Yes.”

“I wasn’t aware you can skate.”

“No. You can teach me. You’re the one with the famous teacher. Taught by Torvill and Dean themselves.”

“I wasn’t taught by them.”

“I thought you were.”

“No. I was taught by their coach. Both Anne and I were. She said she thought I’d make a skater.”

I hit his arm. “She had to say that.”

“No. She said Anne should remain on terra firma. I, apparently, was a natural.”

“Of course you were. I can just see you in your tights and your spangly costume…”

“You’re only being bitter because you’re jealous of my ice skating career.”

“Teach me. We can be Torvill and Dean.”

“It was so many moons ago, I’ve forgotten how to stand up. Anyway, aren’t Torvill and Dean famous for lying on the ice? We can do that! That sounds achievable.” Then, without warning, he pushes me over into the snow and falls on top of me, both of our skis still attached and sprawled together. He’s such an idiot. We’ve fallen awkwardly and he’s too far away to kiss me, so instead he’s pouting and making slurping noises making me giggle until I wriggle closer and his lips are still in that ridiculous pout and it makes me squeal as he attacks me with this sloppy kiss. He manages to subject me twice to this ordeal before I push a handful of snow in his face and we’re both laughing as I wipe away the snow from his mouth to kiss him properly. I hear my sister moaning at our excessive display of affection but it just goads Charles and he pins me down in the snow to kiss me again.

“You’ll never be free. I’ve got you forever.”

“A prince will come and save me and then I’ll be freed from your tyranny.”

“Never, never, never.” He kisses around my face, making me giggle again and then attempts to get up, realises his skis are tangled in mine and he’s stuck and flops heavily back on top of me. “I think we’re stuck together forever.”

“However will we cope?”

[kaddyssammlung]

“if my fate is a bad collision”

Sleep Token - Euclid

I was in two car accidents. None of them were my fault. I got rear-ended twice. The funny thing? They both happened in 2019. The last one of them is the one that could have been the end of this incarnation. But it wasn't. I could feel something protect me.

Let's start from the begging.

I was driving home from home from work. There was a construction site on the road. I had to wait for the lights to turn green so I was allowed to go. Welp. I was just waiting there when I suddenly felt something. It was like a soft and gentle breeze. It felt nice. The next second? That horrible noise when metal crashes into metal. It's a horrible noise especially when you sit inside the car.

A car crashed into mine. That dude did not even step on his break. He came driving with 100km/h and ran into my car which was standing there.

You don't really realize what just happened in a moment like that. His car looked more fucked then mine but mine was also ruined. You could barley open a door. I don't have any photos saved. I did not want to. I don't ever want to look at something like this ever again.

The police came and sorted everything. This was one of those rare days where I could not hide any of my BPD symptoms. It was quite funny. The police officer had to hold me back at some point because I got so furious that I was about to hit that dude who ran into me. I still want punch him. I realize this now that I am writing this.

Anyway.

It all took quite some time. My dad came to pick me up because I had no more car.

I was really lucky. I was told a few times that it was a miracle that no one was injured given the states of both of the cars.

That warm gentle breeze? It was a guardian angel.

There are things you just know. You can't explain them and I understand why someone has trouble understanding this.

I just know.

[burritosandpeppermint]

One of the reasons we left San Francisco - besides the fact that it really had gotten too expensive and became full of too many ghosts for us - was that it was clearly becoming more conservative. And now these voting results are proving it.

From the article:

San Francisco voters appeared to have approved a controversial measure that would require welfare recipients to be screened for illegal drug use as the city lurches to the right amid a worsening addiction crisis. Under the ballot measure, Proposition F, welfare recipients who use illegal drugs would be mandated to undergo treatment or be denied cash assistance. If they were found to be using drugs, an addiction specialist and the recipient would agree on treatment options that include residential care, a 12-step program, individual counseling and replacement medication. Voters also backed more conservative public safety policies in Tuesday’s election. The drug-testing measure was one of two measures put before voters by the San Francisco mayor, London Breed, as the city grapples with the impact of a homelessness and addiction emergency. Breed, who’s up for re-election in November, faces three serious opponents who say her administration has failed to deal with drug crime, vandalism and theft. Breed has moved away from a harm-reduction model and instead backed more punitive policies. She has argued that the drug-testing measure would ensure “more people the help they need and change what’s happening in our city”. “We can’t just keep giving people money to overdose and die on our streets – we have to do more,” she said on Tuesday evening.

Yeah, SF is still a pretty city, and I do miss it sometimes, but over the last 20-ish years the politicians have been bending over backwards to appeal to businesses and tech workers to stay, put up roots, and raise families. But how can they do that when the ridiculous housing prices that have pushed former residents out of their homes cause the rampant homelessness that continues to plague the city? Set up more shelters and treatment centers in every neighborhood? Well, no, the voters flatly reject that at every turn, so now the city will become more discriminatory regarding the people it's helped to un-house.

Oh, and the police now have more powers:

The second measure, which also appeared set to pass, would increase police powers, granting officers greater leeway to pursue suspects in vehicles, authorize police use of drones and surveillance cameras, reduce paperwork requirements, including in use-of-force cases, and reduce the powers of the citizen police oversight commission. A recent analysis by the San Francisco Standard found that the collision rate for police chases in the city is the highest among all major cities in the state.

If you ever had a warm place in your heart for foggy San Francisco, cherish that memory, because unless you're making at least six figures they likely have their surveillance cameras pointed at you, a poor, and if the cops are called on you they'll be happy to run you over without fear of reprisal.