#we won’t be able to do thanksgiving with her she won’t be mobile :(

[bugisbonkerz]

my mama has surgery tomorrow i wish her luck ❤️❤️

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

Emergency! Part 5

Part 5 – Rattlesnake

Summary: A rollover crash has multiple squads responding to rescue, clean up and investigate the cause. During clean up Dean is bitten by a rattlesnake. An earthquake strikes, being the largest L.A has ever experienced since the 90’s. And the reader, was out shopping when it happened, trapping her under debris. Jack’s father is at Rampart for an operation, staff, and squad 51 learn of how toxic of a Father Lucifer is.

Warnings: Scary Situations, Suspense, implied Smut, Fluff, Brief toxic parent angst, long one full of suspense and action!

Word Count: 4,233

Square: Girls Night (There is a girls night in here, and I’m using it to fill my square for @supernatural-jackles Tell me a story bingo)

Bingo Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

a/n: this takes place a year or so after Virus. This story is going to be a long one.

~

“Would it be a miracle that people were actually careful and safe?” Gabe says, walking into the stations kitchen.

“One could only dream.” Cas says.

“Who’s turn is it for making lunch?”

“It’s either the father or the son.” Michael says.

“It’s my turn for lunch nimrod.” Dean says, playfully getting Gabe in  playful chock hold while rubbing his knocks on his head.

Gabe struggles to get out of the Winchester’s grip.

Dean let go with little protest.

“He’s the one that did the father and son crack.” Gabe whined.

“Yeah but Dean knows not to mess with me.”

“You are just as bad as Sam with the pranks.”

“How is little bro by the way?” Gabe asks.

“He’s good, won his first case at a firm downtown. Can’t remember the name of it. And he and Jess are actually getting married by the end of this year.”

“Oh it’s about time that kid popped the question.” Michael says.

“Yeah, he and Jess are coming down for Thanksgiving, they’ll meet Y/N…”

“Have you ever met Y/N’s family yet?”

“She doesn’t talk about her family much. I don’t push her if she’s not comfortable with it.”

The stations alarm goes off.

“Station 51, rollover accident…” The dispatcher giving the location as the station jumped into action.

 They got to the location, on the winding dirt road in the mountains outside of LA. Seeing the car that rolled over the guard rail and down the slope.

“What do we got?” John asked the other station that responded.

The captain wearing a big white 20 on his helmet.

“Rollover, driver’s unconscious and we don’t know his condition.”

“I’ll send my paramedics on it.”

Dean and Cas getting their supplies and rushing to the car.

They recorded his vitals on their notepads.

“Cas go relay it to Rampart, I’ll stay here with him.”

“Got it.”

 “Rampart squad 51. Rampart this is squad five one.”

Bobby happened to be by the radio.

“Go ahead 51.”

“Rampart, we have a rollover accident, the victim is trapped in the car. Vitals are, BP 120 over 79, pulse rate 78. Pupils dilated and sluggish.”

“Can you get the victim out without using the jaws?”

“Negative Rampart, driver side door is jammed.”

“Then start an IV, just have some normal saline to keep him hydrated. Can’t risk a head injury going unnoticed. Follow protocol, and we’ll be waiting for you.”

“10-4 Rampart.”

 A little over a half hour passed and they managed to get the victim out of the car and in an ambulance and is on the way to the hospital.

Cas and Dean were packing up the squad.

“Shit, forgot the drug box by the car, I’ll be right back.” Dean says.

“’kay.”

Dean jogged down the hill to the car to pick up the drug box when he heard a rattle.

His heart sank.

Where was it?

It wasn’t until he saw the danger noodle jump at the moment he picked up the drug box, biting down on his arm. Then latching on.

Dean managed to calmly grab the snake by the head, forcing it’s mouth open. Getting it to release him and he threw the snake far.

He grabbed his radio.

“Station 51, it’s Dean. I just got bit by a rattlesnake.”

He quickly worked his belt off his waist to make himself a tourniquet.

“Gabe, Kevin, get down there now!” John ordered.

They hurried down the hill to Dean’s aid.

 Earlier that day…

“Alright that’s the last of them.” Y/N says to herself as she got all settled in Dean’s house.

They had just recently took things to the next level and she has moved in with him. She was off work taking the time to finish settling in. But Dean’s 24 hour shift just started, so Dean was away at work, saving people.

“Now, a girls night…er, day.” She says, knowing who to call to hang out with for the day.

She pulls out her phone, calling up a few girls she knows and knows they’re off.

“Hey Donna, you up for a girls night?”

“Oh hell ya girlfriend, who’s all gonna be there?”

“Well, you, me, Rowena the overnight RN, Jody. I want to invite Charlie, a friend of Dean’s but I think she’s working.”

“Girl, I can’t wait! You want me to meet you at your place or Dean’s?”

“I just finished moving in with Dean, I’m at Dean’s. You can meet me at Dean’s.” She explained.

“Oh, ho-ho-ho, girl, we need to catch up!”

The girl was full of energy and Y/N could feel it through the phone.

“Yes we do, see you here in a few, and I’ll call the others.” She says, hanging up.

 The doorbell rang hours later calling the girls. She opens the door.

“Hi!” Donna cheers, holding two cases of beer.

“You know how to party, Charlie’s off today she’s on her way with some wine as well.” Y/N says letting her in. Closing the door behind her.

“Oh, I like her already.”

“Jody got caught up with a Drunk Driver and won’t make it. But Rowena is coming so it’s just us four.”

“Still a good girls night, so what else are we doing tonight?”

“Probably catch up a bit, binge some Netflix shows. The Witcher season 2 is coming out soon and I want to rewatch that.”

“Oh, Geralt can hunt me down any day.”

“You do realize the man is hundreds of years old?”

“Yeah, but Henry Cavil isn’t.” she winks.

Y/N rolls her eyes with a giggle.

The doorbell rang shortly after revealing Rowena. And moments later, Charlie.

 “You two are so going to get married.” Donna says, downing her second bottle of beer.

“He really is, really sweet, kind and the perfect kind of guy for me. He knows my schedule. And I know his. We both were scared the hours of our work would mess things up. But with how many times the man gets hurt on the job while I’m working I am always assuming he’s purposely getting hurt just so he can see me at work.”

Charlie giggling. “I see that being a thing he does.”

Rowena sipping away at the red wine Charlie brought.

“Ro, how are things with you girl?” Y/N asked.

“Oh, you know. Saving people, taking names…”

“She’s in love.” Donna deadpans.

Rowena rolls her eyes with a  smirk.

Y/N gasps. “What’s his name?”

“His name is Arthur Ketch, he the neurologist up on Fourth Floor. He works under Singer.”

“Oh I know of him, I mean, Bobby is planning on retiring and isn’t Ketch supposed to take his place?”

Rowena nods with a hum. Still having a playful smirk on her face.

“Oh you are so in love with him.” Y/N says with a smile.

“He may have taken me out on a date a few days ago and we have another date tomorrow night.”

“Ro, I’m so happy for you!”

“Thank you sweetie, and I’m happy for you and Dean, don’t let that one go darling.”

“I don’t see that happening, just as long he stays safe on a job. I’m worried of him getting seriously hurt on the job. I mean that virus a year ago, that really scared me. I thought I was gonna lose him.”

The girls nod, understanding.

“Anyone up for some hot guys and monsters!” Donna says, entering the room with a glass generously full of red wine.

“Girl, you’re gonna regret the headache the next day.”

“I’m off work tomorrow, so if I get a migraine I’m good!” she says chuckling.

The girls rolling their eyes at their friend.

“Rowena, would you be able to drive her home?”

“Yes, she’s at least on the way home for me.”

“Thank you, last thing I want is to give poor Jody another drunk to worry about.”

“At least I’m the fun kind of drunk.” Donna says, getting the Witcher on Y/N’s TV screen.

 “Ro, drive safe!”

“Will do sweetie, have a good rest of your night!” Rowena says, escorting a silly drunk Donna to her car.

“I’ll drive her car home tomorrow.” Y/N offers.

“Will do darling, goodnight!”

“Night!”

“Y/N that was the most fun I’ve had, never thought of you to be the nerdy type.”

“Oh, I’m a nerd in disguise if anything.” Y/N winks.

“Ugh, why are you straight!”

“Not sure.”

Y/N’s pocket happens to vibrate at that moment.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?” Hearing Dr. Kline’s voice on the other end.

“What’s up Jack?”

“It’s Dean, he’s been bit by a rattlesnake, he’s on his way in on the top of Engine 51.”

“I’m on my way.” Y/N says, not hesitating grabbing her keys to her car. Hanging up the phone quickly from him.

“I’m going with you sweetie.” Charlie says, following y/n to her car.

Turning the keys she turns on her emergency flashers and speeds her way to Rampart hospital.

 “Engine 51, what are the patients vitals?” Jack asks.

Dean, takes his own pulse, his own blood pressure. All while Cas drove the squad ahead of the engine.

“Pulse rate, 95. O2 Sat, 98, Respiration 18, BP 120 over 65.”

“Dispatch relay to Engine 51 to start IV using Ringers Lactate.” Jack asks.

“Engine 51, Rampart advises start IV using Ringers Lactate.”

“10-4” Gabe says over the radio.

Dean having heard the radio begins the process to start an IV.

 “There goes Engine 51!” Charlie shouts, while Y/N sat at the red light. Seeing the engine tear through the intersection.

Her light happened to turn green for her.

“Hold on.” Y/N says. As she starts pressing on the gas pedal slowly pushing it to the floor. Her tires squealing.

 Gabe looked up hearing tires. Looking over the edge, he sees a familiar car.

“Oh shit, his girl is right behind us.” He says.

Dean chuckled. “And I’m the worry wort.”

“Engine 51, Rampart is requesting an update.”

“Relay to Rampart, patient is starting to experience numbness around the mouth, and he’s drowsy.” Dean says on the radio.

“Engine 51 you’re breaking up, please repeat.”

John grabbed the radio.

“Relay to Rampart, Patient is started to experience numbness around the mouth and he’s drowsy.”

“Roger that.” Dispatch says.

 “Venom sounded like it hit a vein.” Jack says.

“Y/N’s gonna be so worried.” Meg says. Standing next to Bobby and Jack at the nurses station.

 The squad, the engine pulled into the emergency entrance. Y/N pulled into the parking lot near the emergency entrance, finding a spot quickly. She quickly parked it, turned off the car. Jumping out, locking the car. Charlie staying close to her.

 Meg stayed by the door, waiting for Y/N and Charlie.

“How’s he doing so far?” Y/N asked.

“We started a skin test with the antivenom. Hopefully he doesn’t have a reaction, that way we can start treatment right away.” Jack says.

“How long do we have to wait?” Y/N asked.

“20 Minutes.”

Y/N and the rest of the members of station 51 nodded, understanding.

“Let’s go wait guys.” Charlie suggested.

Everyone left the room, trying to keep their hopes high despite their shoulders slumped.

 As the night came to a close, and he didn’t have a reaction to the antivenom skin test and he has been laying, sound asleep in his room as the antivenom worked it’s magic on him.

Y/N laid in his bed with him, curled into his side. Her head on his chest, listening to the calming rhythm of Dean’s heartbeat.

Dean began to stir awake, feeling a warmth at his side. Waking up a bit more he sees his favorite girl in his life laying at his side.

His arm came up around her, holding her close. Placing a loving sweet kiss atop her head as he fell back asleep, letting the rest and medicine work it’s magic on him.

 The next day…

Y/N arrived on time to the hospital to pick up Dean, filling out his discharge papers another patient was being brought in.

“Who’s that?” Dean asks.

“Jack’s dad, he never talks about him.”

“Why is that?”

Jack happened behind them.

“I was adopted, he gave me up when I was, like 5.”

“Jackie, son how are you?” the man asks from the bed.

“You don’t call me son.”

“Since when can a father—”

“You may be my father by blood. But not a true father.”

“What did you expect me to hold your hand? Kiss your booboo’s when you got hurt like some sort of pansy?”

“Oh now I see why.” Dean mutters in Y/N’s ear.

“How long is he gonna be here anyway?” Jack asks the medics that brought him in.

“His cardiologist what’s him to have a pacemaker in today. So he’s gonna be here for a bit.”

Jack groans under his breath.

“I’ll hand him over to someone else?”

“Why do you suck ass?” His father asks.

“Okay, listen here dude.” Y/N steps in.

“Y/N, please—” Jack says.

“No, you can either treat the staff of Rampart emergency with respect or we can and will kick you out for your hostility.” She says.

He shrunk in his bed.

“Will you be on your best behavior or will I have to send you to a different hospital?” she asks.

“I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Good. And if I hear your antagonizing him, or any more of our staff we will transfer you. And you won’t be welcome here again.”

“Understood.”

“Good.” She says, storming out of the hospital.

“Don’t piss her off, can anyone remind of that?” Dean asks jokingly as he follows her out.

 Later on that day…

“Dean, babe, I’m gonna go do some arrands really quick.”

“Alright be safe sweetheart.”

She goes to the living room, where he sat watching Netflix, giving him a quick kiss on his lips. But Dean quickly places a hand on her cheek deepening the kiss. Clearly wanting more.

“Babe, maybe tonight. But I need to head out to stay ahead of traffic.”

“Fine, drive safe baby.”

“Always do!”

“Says the crazy girlfriend chasing a fire engine!”

“I’m not that crazy!” She laughed.

Dean chuckled as he heard her laugh, closing the door behind her.

 She pushed her cart around Target getting not only food, but some cute lingerie for that night. Even grabbing Dean something from Spencer’s for them to try in bed later.

She felt the ground tremble slightly. The hairs on her arms stood up on end.

“No not now.” She mutters.

Without warning, the ground shook violently, taking her and other shoppers to the floor. The power going out, items being thrown on the floor. The lights swinging wildly, ceiling tiles falling. They were having a bad earthquake. And she was smacked in the middle of LA, in a multilevel mall.

Meanwhile Dean back at home had just turned off the oven having cooked himself some pizza for lunch after noticing Y/N having ate already.

He heart he windows vibrate, feeling the ground tremble slightly. He stood in the kitchen still yet alert.

When the ground gave way again to another violent shake, but only enough to cause their dishes to fall off the countertop, the cupboard doors swinging open and closed. The TV rocking back and forth on the stand. Dean dived to the table to get under it, and wait it out.

Meanwhile back at Target, screaming shoppers can be heard throughout more than just Target.

Once the shaking had calmed down, she knew they had to get out immediately.

She quickly pulled out her phone. Seeing the alert had gone off.

An 7.5 earthquake.

“How big was that?” someone asks.

“I don’t know but that was big!” someone else shouts.

“My phone says 7.5, it was big enough.” Y/N shouts.

“Oh god, we’re dead!”

“Okay, Okay, don’t panic, we just have to get out of here before the aftershocks kick in.” Y/N suggests.

“Where can we go, we’re on the top floor!”

“At one part of the mall this is the ground floor, we just have to find another one of the exits. Avoid the escalators, we have to get out before the floor collapses on us.” She explains.

“I’m with her.”

“Oh my god! Someone help me!”

Bring on the victims. She thought.

“I’m a nurse, what’s wrong!” Y/N shouts.

“It’s my husband, he’s bleeding!”

She ran to the panicked woman.

“Where at?” she asks.

“His leg, a shard of glass from the wine cut him.”

She examines his leg.

“Do you have a belt sir?”

He nods.

“Let’s get it off of you and make a tourniquet.” She says.

Y/N helps him get his belt off and works on tying it above the cut on his leg. Not too tight but tight enough.

“Okay, do you got him?” she asks the man’s wife.

“Yes, but where---”

“I came in from the ground level entrance, it’s a ways north, we just go this way.” She pointed out.

“You make it sound so easy, how are you so calm?”

“I’m an emergency nurse at Rampart.”

“You’re so amazing, thank you, thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, now lets get out of here.”

“Alright everyone, you can follow me, the ground level entrance is this way.” Y/N shouts.

And she began leading the herd.

“Do you hear that?” Someone asked in the Food quart.

“Oh shit, they didn’t turn off the gas.” Y/N muttered.

“GET AWAY FROM THE FOOD QUART!” She shouts.

Just as the people ran in a panic out of the doors near the food quart leading to one of the parking lots out on the ground level, an explosion of fire broke out in a couple of the restaurants in the food quart.

“We’re dead!” a number of people shouted.

“We’ll get out of this, just stay calm and follow me!” Y/N encouraged. As she and everyone behind her, around her, all shielded themselves from the fire.

��Dean, in his car sped his way to station 51.

“It’s all hands on deck, there’s fires everywhere.” John says as Dean entered the station.

“Y/N’s at the mall.”

“Which one?”

“The one off of Center Pointe.”

“Shit, that’s one of our calls. Get suited up, and lets go.”

As the alarm goes off in the station, Dean hurries to the squad, grabbing his fireman’s bottoms and coat.

“I got your boots and mine, lets go!” Cas says, getting in the passenger.

Dean not wasting anytime, turns on the squad and follows the engine out of the station, speeding towards the shopping center.

 “Are we there yet?” a little girl asks.

“Almost there sweetheart, we just have to---”

“Wait!” someone pulls Y/N back.

Y/N grabbing the man’s arm noticing a drop.

“The floor caved in…shit, that’s what I was worried about.”

“Oh, now what!?”

She looked around, finding another way through the store down below.

“Look there’s an exit down there.”

“But it leads to the underground parking.”

“Still it’s a way out, just wait here then, there’s an incline here, I’ll just climb down and see how far the exit is from the underground parking.” Y/N says, determined to get these people out and out alive.

Sliding down the concrete ramp, she jogs through the store, climbing through a fissure in the wall, seeing the garage not perfect but from where she was there was a path closest to the building leading out to daylight.

She hurries back to the scared people.

“There’s a straightforward path outside from here, come on, if we hurry---”

The ground began to shake, throwing her off balance.

“Oh no it’s an aftershock!” someone shouted.

 The engine managed to get to the shopping mall, seeing a fire in one section. Coming to a stop they can feel the aftershocks.

“Shit, we have to hurry, Dean, Cas, find a way in. Kevin, Michael, find us some water!” John ordered.

Dean taking the squad closer to the building, scoping out a way in.

“We could try there.” Cas suggested.

“It doesn’t look too structurally sound Cas.”

“It’s holding up so far.”

“True. Okay, but lets find a plan B.”

“And C.”

“And D.”

 “I hear sirens!” Someone shouted.

“Come on, the opening is still here!” Y/N shouted.

“Go on baby, mommy and daddy are right behind you.” A pair of parent said to the small girl.

She slid down the concrete ramp, looking scared and timid but Y/N stood by close until her parents met up with her.

“Okay, keep it going, we’re almost out of here!” Y/N encouraged.

It seemed to be going smoothly, everyone was starting to rush down the ram and running outside, frantically.

 “Dean look!” Cas shouted as Dean made a loop around the Mall.

“That’s a good sign, okay, let’s help them.” Dean says, bring the squad to a stop.

“Engine 51, this is squad 51, Cap, there’s an couple of entrances above ground that are stable, but we found one by the underground parking, a large number of survivors are coming out.”

“Copy that.” John says.

“Anyone hurt!” Cas asked as he got out.

A number of people saying their fine, scared. A select few coming forward with injuries of cuts.

“Good job miss on making that tourniquet.” Dean commented.

“Oh, I didn’t do that, a nice lady, a nurse from Rampart did it.”

Dean’s heart dropped. Y/N was in there.

“Did you see her?” Dean asked. Unable to hide the panic look in his face.

“We ran right past her, she led us out that way.”

“Atta girl, Cas you got them?” Dean asked.

“I got them, go.” Cas says as he attends to the couple.

Dean got to the opening and he could see a familiar figure in the dark dusty parking lot.

“Y/N!”

“Dean!” she shouts, turning to find him in the opening.

People still trinkling out. Dean helping them out the best he could.

“You hurt!”

“No, I’m fine, just help them!”

What started as a light tremble got slightly stronger, another aftershock.

“Oh fuck, Y/N hurry up!” Dean shouted.

Y/N hurried the people out. And just as she was making her way to Dean she heard a puppy barking. Stopping her dead in her tracks. She began to search for it.

A puppy scurried out from under a car with a limp, barking fearfully.

“It’s okay baby, I got you.” She says, hurrying to the scared puppy. Looking at it’s paw. Seeing a shard of glass in one of it’s paw pads.

“Poor thing, I got you.” She says.

She heard a crack in the concrete. All of a sudden the ceiling looking closer and feeling a lot closer. She fell on her rear, the ceiling seemed like it didn’t want to stop.

No. she prayed.

The after shock stopping just as soon as it started, the ceiling stopped.

“Y/N! Please say something!”

“I’m okay!” she shouts.

The concrete already sounding unstable, she hurries, crawling on all fours with the puppy in her hand, she even brings her feet into the crawling.

Like a domino effect, the ceiling begins to collapse.

A little girl stopped by one of the cars, scared, crying. Not stopping, she grabs the girl by the arm, and continues to crawl.

“Run guys, run!” Dean chants.

“Keep going sweetie, keep running!” Y/N tells the little girl.

The girl being the first out, dives into Dean’s arms.

“I gotchu sweetheart!” Dean tells her.

Y/N making a dive out, landing on her back with the pupping in her chest as the parking lot collapses behind her in a cloud of dust.

Y/N got up, still holding the puppy, trembling in her arms, licking her graciously on her neck. As if it was thanking her for saving her.

Dean stood by the squad, consoling the child, sees Y/N walking with a puppy in her arms. Panting from the adrenaline. Hurries to her, engulfs her in his arms.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine.”

“You go to Target and you come back with a puppy.” He smirks.

“I couldn’t resist, he was cute!” Y/N giggles.

“So far, everyone’s okay, in one piece, little girl’s back with her parents.” Dean informs her.

“That’s good.”

“Is it me or does danger just seem to find us?”

“Something.”

 The next day…

“Come here Tremor!” Y/N coaxes.

The Basset Hound Puppy running over, his ears flopping in the wind. Making Y/N giggle.

“Good boy!”

“I’m home!” Dean shouts from the house.

“Go get daddy boy!” she encourages. The puppy making a mad dash for Dean. Only to trip on his ears in the run. Earning a laugh from Dean and Y/N.

“It’s okay buddy, I gotchya!” Dean says, meeting the puppy halfway, and picking him up.

The puppy showering Dean in licks.

“Been good for mommy.”

“Still working on potty training, he peed in the house, that’s why I opened it up.”

“Eh, it’s a learning progress for the little dude.”

“Yeah, so, how was work today?”

“Oh, same old. Rescued a cat from a tree, saved a heart attack victim. The usual.” Dean jokes.

Y/N giggling. Giving him a kiss on the lips. Only for him to deepen it, the puppy getting jealous and licking both of them.

“Okay, Tremor, we get it.” Dean goes.

“And I owe someone some sexy fun time tonight.” Y/N says playfully as she heads back inside.

“Yes you do.” Dean says. Following her at her heels.

~

A/N: How did you like it? I’m so glad my block is gone and I was able to cook this up. Let me know how you liked it! Feedback is always appreciated! :3

Dean Girls:

@pandazombie69, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @jayankles, @jeaniespiehs20, @mlovesstories, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @flamencodiva, @megzdoodle, @lyarr24, @akshi8278, @anotherspnfanfic​

~

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[brightblueinky]

Pardon me for the intrusion, but you're the only person I found who's still into CC and I have to ask: does the romantic aspect of Chrono's and Rosette's relationship seem lacking to you? Like I can see when Rosette starts to view him as a love interest (chapter 28), but I can't see when Chrono starts to view her as one. To me it feels like he only had an interested in Mary, and Rosette is just his very beloved friend; the kiss felt too sudden. I'm sorry, I just need a second opinion on this.

Okay I am so sorry I didn’t respond to this until now, I’ve mostly been using tumblr on my phone and using it to check a few blogs and occasionally the CC tag, and apparently tumblr doesn’t notify for asks on the mobile app? Or I’m not seeing it? Something. I have no idea how long you’ve been waiting for a response on this, so I’m really sorry! I hope you find this!

I think I need a reread of the manga at this point--a lot of the stuff I’m writing these days is going off of head canon which might not be 100% accurate anymore. So I’m just going to write this off the cuff. Gonna be a bit stream of consciousness! So this is definitely not a definitive opinion or even one I’ll always stand by, just how I personally feel in this particular moment.

So off the top of my head...

I think we see less things from Chrono’s point of view than from Rosette’s, which is part of what makes this tricky. This isn’t ALWAYS the case obviously (we see his sort of...PTSD dream flashback after Rizelle’s death, the flashback in volume 6 is basically from Chrono’s viewpoint since it’s mostly his memories, etc), but since one of the way the plot moves forward is the mystery of what happened in Chrono’s past usually the viewpoint is more centered around Rosette. I actually always assumed that Rosette was the only character that Moriyama would consider the protagonist until I saw that on a dust jacket for one of the books he said that BOTH Chrono and Rosette are (can’t remember which book, sorry! it was a fan translation).

Thinking about it, I think we see Chrono start to realize he has romantic feelings at the end of volume 6. I think that’s the first time he really, truly comes to accept his contract with Rosette as a good thing instead of just...the lesser of two evils, I guess? It’s when he goes “oh, yeah, I made the contract because otherwise she would’ve run off to solve the problem on her own, and I didn’t want to leave her alone.” I think that’s when he starts to really see Rosette as someone that’s on the same level of emotional maturity as him, too--earlier he occasionally teases her for being immature, but I think when Rosette tells him that she wants to share his pain, and Mary’s, that he sees how emotionally strong she is as a person and really respects that. Not that he didn’t see her as strong BEFORE, buuut like...he’d been so hesitant to share his past with Rosette until right then, and her response, I think, makes him realize how helpful having her support really is to him.

This isn’t really the same situation and is definitely my own personal reaction, but as I write this it makes me think of when I was dating my husband. I was initially terrified he was going to break up with me because I was bisexual--we both came from conservative Christian backgrounds and were homeschooled, and in the past he expressed homophobic sentiments--but I felt like I HAD to tell him because I couldn’t see myself in a long term relationship with someone I couldn’t be 100% honest with. His reaction when I told him was to immediately tell me he trusted me and cared about me, start to reconsider what he’d been raised to feel immediately, and he’s become one of my biggest advocates as I’ve come out to friends and family. Coming out to him was one of the best things I’ve ever done, but it was terrifying until I did. I can see Chrono having similar fears talking about his past with Rosette, and having a similar sense of relief and healing as soon as he realized how much Rosette is in his corner and how helpful having someone he can be open with actually is.

In the next chapter, Rosette holds Chrono’s hands to comfort him while they briefly talk about their current situation (Chrono being held in, uh, demon jail? and Rosette being taken off of her mission to find Joshua), then they both blush and get flustered when they realize what they’re doing. They babble small talk afterward while inner dialogue repeats Rosette’s promise to share Chrono’s pain, and Mary’s too. And then RIGHT AFTER is when Remington walks in and takes them to Aion’s old house on the beach so...that’s about it.

So I think the manga does show that, either right after he’s pulled out of his coma by Rosette or sometime in the aftermath, Chrono is starting to acknowledge that his feelings for Rosette might be more romantic. But it is VERY brief, because literally everything after that is two volumes of the big finale, taking place entirely over no more than 24 hours. Everything after that is rushing to tie up as many loose ends as possible--Fiore being Satella’s sister, saving Joshua, Joshua beginning to grapple with the gravity of what he’s done and been a part of and what’s been done to him, Aion and Chrono’s confrontation, the Order and the Sinner’s confrontation, Rosette’s near death experience, Aion’s motivations revealed, Chrono and Aion’s true relationship revealed, Azmaria finally coming into her own in terms of taking ownership of her powers, the culmination of Aion’s plans (and near-Apocalypse caused by it), the true nature of demons, the deaths of most of the Sinners, Shader’s defection, Joshua and Fiore’s relationship being somewhat resolved, Rosette and Chrono’s relationship being somewhat resolved...like holy shit there is SO. MUCH. THERE.

On top of that, I’ve got the Japanese reprints and while I can read basically no Japanese (HUGE GRAIN OF SALT INCOMING), I’ve pointed Google Translate at some of the omakes and from what I can tell, Moriyama talks in the omake in...volume 6, I think, that he basically had a whole other volume’s worth of story for the flashback that had to be cut! If I’m understanding it right, it’s like...from Remington’s perspective, and involves some Native American tribe or reservation that had connections to the Sinners, and the woman in charge of the orphanage Joshua and Rosette grew up in was a child living in a town nearby....

Basically, from what I can tell? Moriyama had a LOOOOOOOOT of background stuff he wanted to go into in the back half of Chrono Crusade that he wasn’t able to do for time reasons. I’m not sure if his editor gave him a deadline, or he realized it would be too meandering, or what exactly happened, but...have you ever heard the “iceberg” theory of writing? Basically, flesh out as much of the backstory as you can--know everything about the town your story is set in, the family of your protag and their relationships with them, what they eat for breakfast, just...every little minutia you can possibly think of, but most of that won’t get into your story. The audience will only see the tip of the iceberg, but knowing so much background about your setting and characters will help it feel more alive and inform your decisions as you write.

I think Moriyama had a fucking huge iceberg, basically, and I think he actually wanted to show more of that, but...couldn’t. So we get little pieces of art that reference this entire backstory for Satella we never see, and Aion, etc....that gets small nods but doesn’t make it into the manga.

And I think there’s a lot of things Moriyama wanted to give time to breathe in the manga but due to space limitations, couldn’t. So that’s why the second half of the manga literally takes place from Thanksgiving to sunrise on Christmas Day and is...the entire second half of the manga. He’s rushing to get in as much as possible while still letting the story flow as a story and sometimes...it’s not perfect.

So....I think unfortunately, yeah, one of the casualties of that is that we don’t get a huuuuuge amount of Chrono’s side of the relationship, because most of the moments that really shows that they’re heading in that direction is from Rosette’s POV. Other than the scene I already mentioned, I think you could argue that Chrono’s reaction to “the place that Chrono can go back to was decided 4 years ago!” might also be the first moment he starts to consider how important Rosette is to him, but that doesn’t HAVE to be romantic...Chrono’s reaction to her death (and then realizing there’s a chance to revive her) again emphasizes how important she is to him, but it doesn’t HAVE to be romantic...the kiss at the end is the only thing that really 100% says “Yes, this is romantic and not platonic” on his part. And...yeah. It feels a bit sudden. There’s some underlying hints before that but...I mean, I know about them because I’m obsessive about character growth and narrowed in on it in subsequent rereads, I’m not sure if it came through right away on my first read of the manga, and I even knew going into it that they were at least meant to be teased as a ship, so, yeah.

Also I briefly want to admit that as I’ve gotten older, the age gap bothers me a little more. Not enough for me to abandon the ship, just, you know, it’s something I acknowledge will turn some people off. I think Chrono, maturity-wise, is meant to be seen as...about 20. I think Moriyama mentions in one of the early omakes that that’s what he looks like in his unsealed form, we know that when he leaves Pandaemonium it’s right after his coming of age ceremony so he’s about what a demon would consider to be 18 in terms of emotional (and physical?) maturity, and especially since he’s been sleeping for 50 years since that period of his life he doesn’t have the experience that his age really indicates (which Aion blantantly points out near the end). So I’m not THAT bothered by it because I don’t think that Rosette and Chrono are actually that inequal in terms of emotional maturity but it’s still...there, and...I mean he met her when she was 12...so...yeah that’s a bit weird!! 

I’ve just gotten to where I shrug my shoulders and go “look, every ship in Chrono Crusade has something problematic about it, if you’re going to be a fan of Chrono Crusade you’re probably going to have to grapple with the fact that it’s messy and human and nobody is 100% good or bad in the manga, and that’s part of what I like about it, so, that’s cool, but it’s probably not for everyone.” It’s actually one reason why I’m kinda OK with CC not being as popular as some of its contemporaries because...some of the anti-shipper stuff I’ve seen online...oh boy.

So...I guess in conclusion, I think there’s stuff there in the manga to build up the relationship a little bit, but a lot of it is from Rosette’s POV and most of it is kind of subtle. I wouldn’t be surprised if Moriyama had wanted to flesh it out more obviously in the manga but the second half is stuffed full of wrapping up character arcs and questions and loose ends so it just didn’t really have the time to get as much focus. I really like the ship a lot, but a lot of it comes from analysis of the characters and how they relate to each other rather than it just being...canon. I’m okay with that, I’m the sort of person that will ship characters that never even meet just because I think the dynamic might be cool, but...I’m not surprised that not everyone would be into it, either.

And now I kinda want to make...a series of posts analyising the different relationships that are...either canon or teased in canon, see how much they’re built up, etc. Because this post makes me think a lot about Joshua/Azmaria and how confused I was by them apparently being married in the epilogue on my first read, and only seeing the hints Moriyama hinted about them possibly being a couple in the manga on subsequent rereads (and even then HO BOY it’s so subtle it makes Chrono and Rosette look really in your face aaaaaa). BUT I HAVE RAMBLED ENOUGH FOR THIS POST and, again, I need a reread. Maybe soon....!!!!

[let-it-raines]

Every Monday Morning (1/1)

Emma Swan likes her routines. She wakes up at four in the morning, goes to work as a host on The Morning Show, spends her day doing segments about cooking and this season’s fashion trends, and then she goes home to spend time with her son and help him with his homework. She’s finally found something stable, and she doesn’t like change. 

So when the show’s regular chef retires and is replaced by Killian Jones, it throws Emma for a loop that she doesn’t necessarily like. 

At least not at first. 

Rating: Teen

a/n: So, I’m a day early as it’s her birthday tomorrow, but I realized today I won’t be able to post tomorrow because of family obligations. I think @searchingwardrobes​ might be okay with spreading the celebration out a bit! 

Happy (almost) Birthday to the birthday queen herself ❤️ You are an absolute gift of a person who spends time writing stories for most everyone on their birthdays, and while I can’t do quite that, I thought I’d write you a little something because you absolutely deserve it! It’s been a joy getting to know you! I hope that you have the best day with your family! 🎉

Thanks @wellhellotragic​ for helping me figure out what to write about, even if I rejected everything. lol. And also, nonnie, I promise the “read more” is being used, so I’m sorry if it doesn’t work on mobile!

Found on AO3 | Here |

Tag list: @captainsjedi @wellhellotragic @galaxyzxstark @thejollyroger-writer  @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @xellewoods​ @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven  @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @ultimiflos @jamif @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke  @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81

-/-

It’s five in the morning, Emma has coffee in her ridiculously oversized mug that Henry gave her for her birthday last year, and she absolutely does not want to be awake right now. She wants to be in her pajamas, and she wants to have to struggle to get out of bed and to have to make Henry breakfast that he’ll take two bites out of before deciding that he doesn’t actually want the pancakes she made. It’s been an obnoxious thing lately, his weird aversion to foods after saying that he wants them, and she’s really going to need him to grow out of that habit.

Kids are freaking weird, and after ten years of motherhood, she still has no idea what she’s doing.

“Stop twitching,” Ruby grumbles.

“I am not twitching.”   “You are.” Ruby huffs, and Emma straightens herself in the chair before taking a slow sip of coffee. “It’s not easy to put your eyeliner on, and it’s even more difficult if you keep moving.”

“I am not moving, Rubes,” Emma insists before crossing her leg over her knee only for Ruby to slap it away so that both feet are on the bottom of the chair. “Okay, maybe I am a little bit, but I didn’t get the chance to workout this morning, and I’m feeling all jittery.”

Ruby hums, and Emma tries to relax her eyes so that Ruby can keep working on her makeup without it smearing. “Why not? Did you not sleep well last night?”

“We were up late doing Henry’s homework. I swear, I’m not that old, but some of his stuff I’ve never heard of. The math is killing me. I would never in my life want Neal to come back, but I feel like it would almost be acceptable if he could do this math.” “That bad, huh?”

“That bad.”

“Stop wrinkling your nose.”

“I am not.” “You are,” Ruby laughs as her finger hits the tip of Emma’s nose. “Give me ten more minutes, and then you can get dressed and take a few minutes to eat something and drink your coffee.”

“It’s Monday,” Emma sighs. “It’s Chef Rudianni day. I’m about to eat everything that he cooks when he does his segment.”

Ruby stops the light pressure of the sponge on Emma’s cheek, and she opens her eyes to see that Ruby is staring at her with an apologetic smile. Shit.

“Chef Rudianni retired last week, Ems. We’ve got a new guy, and whew, let me tell you, he’s as hot as the food that he’s going to teach you to make.”

Disappointment settles in Emma’s stomach. Maybe that’s just the lack of food…the lack of Chef Rudianni’s food. “You are shameless and also breaking my heart.” Emma groans and leans back in the chair while crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t care how attractive the new guy is. I wake up at four in the morning every Monday with the hope that I can get food from Rudy. It is literally the only thing that gets me through the day.”

“Being a host on one of the most popular morning shows in America doesn’t do it for you? You work for half a day and then are home in time to spend all afternoon with Henry.”

Emma grunts and waves Ruby away. “Yeah, whatever. You don’t have to rub it in my face that I’m lucky to make me feel bad about it.”

“That’s what friends are for, my darling. Now, arch your left brow. I need to fix that little stray.”

Ruby keeps prodding and plucking and doing everything that she does every morning to make Emma look camera ready and not like she’s waiting to die from lack of sleep, and while it’s usually Emma’s time to relax, she doesn’t get much of that when her producers come in and run her through this morning’s program. Emma never does any “real” news, which is perfectly okay with her. There’s enough darkness in the world that she doesn’t want to have to extensively deal with that while at work. Instead, she spends her mornings talking to people who run their first marathons at the age of sixty, tries on different outfits for each of the seasonal trends, and gets to pretend that she knows how to cook as she does cooking segments.

Chef Rudianni made it easy for her to pretend that she had something more than basic cooking skills, even if he did very obviously make fun of her off the screen, but she never cared about that because the food was that good.

She’s not entirely sure about this new guy, and she hasn’t even met him yet. He better be able to cook pie for Thanksgiving. That’s what’s she’s going to miss the most.

(Emma is obviously very hungry right now, and she’s not even technically supposed to eat that much of the food.)

“You look happy this morning,” David teases her as she settles down at her chair behind the desk.

“It’s Monday, and I’m tired.”

“Working on a morning news show was not your calling.”

Emma rolls her eyes and twists in the chair as Mary Margaret, the second half of the power couple of The Morning Show, sits down in her chair next to David, and Will Scarlet, their weather and sports guy, sits opposite of her. They’ve got maybe ten different hosts total, especially since this show lasts for five hours, but the four of them have been the main four for the last three years. It’s nice, even if their personalities can clash, but Emma likes to think that’s what makes it interesting. Mary Margaret and David are both so full of hope and happiness, and the energy radiating from the two of them make it easier for she and Will to be a little more optimistic about things.

(There was once an incident with Will laughing at a story about a woman who made her living making sweaters for dogs, and they had a month-long sensitivity training session afterward. That also may be why they are all unwaveringly positive on-air.)

Emma hums and reaches forward to grab her coffee cup, wishing and willing that the caffeine will help her make it through the day. “I think I was meant to be, like, a late-night host or something, but then I couldn’t get away with wearing slippers underneath the desk and would have to be funny all the time.”

“Does it hurt to wear heels even while you’re sitting?” Will asks.

“Why don’t you try it one day, Scarlet? I’ve got someone coming in tomorrow to show the fall color trends for shoes. I’m sure she could give you a pair to try on. You’ll look great delivering the news in some plum pumps.”

“I’d do it. You know that.”

“We’re live in thirty seconds,” their producers call out, and each of them turn from each other back to face the camera, coffee mugs put down and hair adjusted with perfectly white smiles etched across their faces.

Three.

Two.

One.

“Good morning, America,” David begins.

“And welcome to The Morning Show,” Mary Margaret finishes.

And thus they begin.

The first ten or so minutes is spent with David and Mary Margaret reading off little snippets of news before connecting it to their personal lives, talking about their kids and their relationship before throwing it off to Will and Emma and to banter back and forth. Emma never talks about Henry on-air. His existence isn’t something she shares with the world, mostly because she doesn’t want Neal suddenly popping back in realizing that he has a son. He would definitely try to take advantage of her again and use her job and Henry as some way to advance his life, and Emma isn’t here for that. So, she plays the part of a single twenty-eight-year-old woman and never shares anecdotes over her life at home. At least not ones that involve Henry.

Soon they all branch off into their different jobs and topics. Emma and Will both leave the main table so that Will can do the weather and Emma can set up to interview a college student who is taking Krispy Kreme donuts and putting his own spin on them, and like every morning, time flies by in a mess of interviews and segments and talking to all of the people who are both crazy and awesome enough to stand outside their studio window just to get a chance to see where they film.

It’s an insane life, one Emma most definitely stumbled into it, but she loves it.

Until she walks over to the fake kitchen they have on set and sees the new guy setting up whatever it is he’s cooking today. Emma stops in her tracks, the heels she put back on scratching against the linoleum floor, and she has to take a moment to collect herself. Ruby wasn’t wrong when she said that the new chef was attractive. He obviously is. Even from here she can see the sharp line of his jaw covered with scruff that’s a shade or two lighter than the black of his hair, and his eyes are so blue that Emma is almost positive they’re contacts. It’s ridiculous. He’s tall, but not outrageously so, and she can see the muscles in his forearms and biceps under the t-shirt that he has on.

Guys who look like that always know that they do, indeed, look like they do, and it’s never good news. They think they’re a gift to women world-wide, and Emma prepares herself for him to be the same way, especially with the way that he’s obviously flirting with one of their production assistants, Tink.

Why in the world did Chef Rudianni have to retire? She’s going to miss him and his sweet elderly man ways where he thought of her more like a granddaughter than anything else.

Taking a deep breath and reminding herself that she’s a professional, Emma walks toward the cooking set, grabs her apron off the hook, ties it around her, and walks up to the guy to introduce herself. He’s a once-a-week segment for four minutes, and it really won’t be that bad. It can’t be.

(Emma hates change.)

“Oh.” Tink jumps when she sees Emma, pink rising on her cheeks, “Mr. Jones, I’d like you to meet Emma Swan.”

The guy’s shoulders tense before he turns around, and Emma’s eyes are immediately hit by the blue, which is even more insane closer up. So is the brightness of the smile that seems to stretch all the way up to his eyes.

He better be a damn good cook.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, love,” he drawls out, the thickness of his British accent curling around his tongue. “Killian Jones, at your service.”

Emma forces a smile and nods her head as she reaches forward to shake his hand. “Emma Swan. Welcome to The Morning Show.”

“I’m glad to be here. Any tips for my time here? Who likes to steal food off the table? Anyone absolutely hate any certain kind of food? Anyone I should avoid?”

Emma releases his hand and cocks her head to the side, trying to size him up. “Just cook the food and smile for the camera when you’re supposed to, and you’ll be fine. Oh, and don’t expect me to be a good assistant. I’m not at all a chef. I faked it.”

He winks, and Emma has to grit her teeth. This guy is obviously a natural flirt. “That’s because you haven’t cooked with me yet.”

-/-

Killian Jones is even more charming on-camera then he is off of it. She has no idea what kind of television work he’s done in the past, if he’s done any at all, and he is every bit the natural at working the camera and the crowd as he takes her through the steps to make an absolutely fantastic end of the summer barbeque for the end of July that has her having to wipe barbeque sauce off her fingers in the middle of the segment. It’s also got everyone else coming over to check out the food, something that almost never happens, and Emma isn’t entirely sure how she feels about any of it.

It’s good for the show, at least. She knows that. She’ll simply have to get used to a little change every Monday morning.

-/-

“Mom,” Henry moans as he flops down on the couch, “I am starving. What’s for dinner?”

Emma shrugs her shoulders and gets up from her favorite chair in the living room to walk the few feet to the kitchen and the fridge. When she opens it, there’s barely anything inside. It’s half a gallon of milk, some cheese sticks, a bag of carrots, and then leftover lasagna Mary Margaret gave them a week ago. Emma needs to go grocery shopping, but she hasn’t had the chance recently. It’s been a crazy few weeks with work, the month of August and half of September flying by, and grocery shopping has been at the bottom of her list of things to do.

Mom of the year award, honestly. She needs to bite the bullet and pay the surcharge to have her groceries delivered, but the frugalness of growing up in the foster system has never really gone away when it comes to things like that. Expensive shoes? Sure, she can spend a few hundred dollars on that. Paying twenty dollars for a delivery fee? No, absolutely not.

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Emma looks at the complete lack of food in the fridge and decides that eating here is not an option. And she cannot eat takeout Chinese food or pizza again this week. That is not an option her stomach will agree with.

(She is making a change when it comes to their eating habits tomorrow. She swears.)

“How about we go out for dinner, kid?”

Henry sits up from the couch and puts his phone down, which is pretty much a miracle since this is the time that he’s allowed to use it, and he looks so much like Neal in this moment that her heart pangs. Or maybe that’s the consistent amount of junk food. She doesn’t really know.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, why not? It’s Friday night, and it’s not like we have anything better to do.”

“I mean, you  don’t have anything better to do. I was going to play my game with Avery.” Emma narrows her eyes at him, and Henry holds up his hands in apology. “Sorry, sorry. Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you find a place we’ve never been, and we’ll go there?” Henry opens his mouth and Emma holds her finger up. “Within one subway stop of here. I don’t want to traipse across the city. Let me go put on some actual pants, and then we’ll go, okay?”

Henry nods his head before quickly grabbing his phone and looking up restaurants while she walks back down the hallway to her bedroom to change out of her pajamas and into a pair of jeans and a light sweater that will keep the chill away since every restaurant is inevitably freezing. She can’t wait until fall truly rolls around and the temperature dips so that she can walk around all bundled up and no one will say a word.

Of course, this is Manhattan, and no one cares if Emma is walking around in nice, clean clothes or a T-rex suit.

When she’s finished getting ready and has run her hands through Henry’s hair to try to calm it down despite his protests, they leave their apartment, saying goodbye to the doorman Henry has pretty much adopted into their family, and follow the GPS to the restaurant Henry picked out. Emma didn’t look into it too much. All she saw was that it had good reviews and food that Henry would most definitely eat without complaint, and she was good to go.

(Her rumbling stomach really helps her make decisions much more quickly than she would otherwise.)

The place is on a corner lot, black gates cornering off the outdoor tables that all have umbrellas open over them if they’re not already covered by the black awnings that extend over the windows and toward the bubble lights that are brightening the space even with the constant flow of street lights and car headlights that keep passing by.

Sweet William.

“Kid,” Emma hesitates as they wait for the crosswalk light to turn on, “this place is packed. I don’t know if we’re going to be able to eat here.”

Henry tugs on her hand, and she looks down at him to see him smile. “Can we please at least try? The website said we didn’t need reservations, and that it has really good cheeseburgers. And those Alexander drinks that you like.”

“You really shouldn’t know about my alcohol preferences.”

“I know that you really like piña coladas, but you’re always too embarrassed to buy those unless we’re at the beach with Mary Margaret and David.”

Emma huffs and tugs Henry closer to her side so that she can kiss his forehead. “I think you’re too observant for your own good.”

“I thought moms wanted their kids to be smart.”

“We do…to a certain extent.”

The light changes and suddenly there’s a rush of people walking across the street. Emma holds onto Henry out of instinct as they move along with the crowd and walk up to the restaurant. Emma doesn’t expect them to get a table, especially once they walk inside and she can see that all of the tables and booths are full, but she asks the hostess anyway. She gives Emma a tight smile, one that is definitely more annoyed than kind, and then they’re told that it’ll be a forty-minute wait unless they want to sit at the bar. Emma’s fine with that, especially since Henry is insistent on getting one of these cheeseburgers, so they’re quickly guided through the restaurant until they get to the bar in the back and are stuck in the corner on the little swivel chairs.

How in the world has she never heard of this place? It’s obviously popular and in walking distance of her apartment. Emma needs to get out more often, but that’s too much effort.

When in the world did she turn into an old woman?

Probably when she had a kid at eighteen and then began getting up for work far before the sun rises.

Henry catches her up on everything that’s been happening at school in the past week. His friends are all obsessed with some new YouTube blogger that she’s going to have to check out, and his science project is due in two weeks. Emma puts a reminder in her phone over that because they will forget about it, and Henry will come home the night before it’s due so that they have to make a last-minute trip to the store for absolutely everything he needs and neither of them will get any sleep.

“Wait, so what happened with Avery’s mom?” Emma asks Henry as she sips on her diet coke.

“She had to go to the emergency – ”

“Swan!”

Emma’s head flips so quickly at the sound of the familiar accent that she almost gets whiplash, and all of the sudden Killian Jones is standing in front of her behind the bar with a stupid grin on his face. It’s the one that he does whenever he’s made a joke after she spectacularly fails at some kind of cooking thing or spills food on her apron, and Emma is experiencing whiplash in more ways than one.

What the hell is he doing here?

“Jones,” she greets, nodding at him. “What are you doing behind the bar?”

He raises his brows, a signature move of his as she’s learned over their weeks of doing segments, but then they settle back down to their normal place. “You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Nothing,” he sighs as he leans forward and rests his elbow on the bar top. “Who’s this young gentleman? Your date for the evening perhaps?”

Heat rushes to Emma’s cheeks, as well as the urge to mutter a few curses, because this is not good. Not good at all. Only a few people at work know about Henry and those people are people who she spends time with outside of work. Those people are her family, bloodlines be damned. They’re not the chef who comes by every Monday morning and attempts to flirt with her while showing her how to make an apple cider bar for fall holiday parties.

Emma opens her mouth to try to save some face, but then Henry is speaking. “Henry Swan. You’re the guy who teaches my mom to cook on TV.” Henry leans forward and nearly knocks over his drink. “You’re not doing a very good job.”

Emma scoffs while Killian leans back with his hand on his chest and his entire face lit up with his laugh. A few people look over to them, but they quickly turn away while Killian keeps chuckling and Emma finds herself at a total loss for words.

Her son just called her a bad cook and also told someone that he’s her son. How in the world does she react to that?

“I’m trying my best, lad,” Killian chuckles, wiping away a tear from his eye, “but your mum is very much a beginner. Maybe if they let me come in for her show more often, I could help her out more.”

“Maybe,” Henry shrugs. “Do you work here?”

“Aye, I do. This is my restaurant.”

She hopes the floor is clean because Emma’s jaw is about to drop there.

Of all of the restaurants in this city, Henry had to pick this one.

“Cool, so you make the cheeseburgers? The reviews online say they’re really good.”

Killian looks at her, his eyes wide, and Emma realizes that he’s silently asking for her permission to keep talking to Henry. She doesn’t know how she knows that, but she does. Nodding, she tilts her head back toward Henry.

“I have other chefs that help me out,” Killian continues, “which is why I get to come out here and talk to you guys, but I did come up with the recipe for it. Is that what you ordered?”

“Yep. Mom ordered a salad and is making me eat part of it.”

“Ah, well, vegetables are important, and I promise that my salads are good salads.”

“I’ll believe it when I taste it.”

Emma snorts and hides her smile behind her drink while Killian looks back at her and moves his brows across his face. She didn’t know he could have this long of a conversation without flirting.

“Do you two want a table?” Killian asks them as he tugs up the sleeve of his shirt, and not for the first time, she notices the red scars that stretch up his left hand and arm. “I know we’re busy in here tonight, but I think I have a little pull to get you a table.”

“Thank you, but I think we’re fine. Right, kid?”

“As long as I get my cheeseburger, I’d sit in the bathroom and be happy.”

Sometimes Emma forgets that Henry is a ten-year-old boy who still finds the occasional fart funny and that he doesn’t have a great sense of hygiene, and then he says something like that to bring her back to earth and reminds herself that her kid is, indeed, a kid.

Killian stays and talks to them for a few minutes before he’s called off to sign some papers and disappears behind a set of double doors that Emma assumes lead to the kitchen. They don’t see or hear from him again that night, though their food gets to them much more quickly than most everyone else at the bar. Henry absolutely devours the cheeseburger, barely taking a bite of any of the vegetables that she puts in front of him, but she doesn’t expect anything less. Her salad is really good, though. She usually hates any salad that she has to eat (the pressure of being on TV and all), but she actually enjoys it tonight.

Even after she asks for the bill, and she’s told by the bartender that their check has already been paid and that they have a to-go box of a blueberry cobbler waiting for them at the front of the restaurant.

Emma is a sucker for any kind of cobbler or pie.

Henry seems to think that this has been the coolest night of his life, and she took him to Disney World in June after years of begging.

When Monday morning rolls around, Emma is as exhausted as ever, and she muddles through her routine of hair and makeup before rolling out onto the set and plastering a smile on her face that matches everyone else’s as they banter back and forth about their weekends. It’s fine, normal as ever, and then Emma is being shuffled over to the kitchen set in between takes where she sees Killian already in his show-provided apron.

Shit.

She forgot about this? How could she? It’s been a part of her routine for eight weeks now.

“Morning, love,” he greets, grin on his face. “Fancy seeing you here.”

She huffs and grabs her apron before tying it around her waist. “We obviously can’t stay away from each other’s places of business. What are we cooking today?”

“Healthy, easy meals that work perfect for leftovers for your kid’s lunch the next day.”

Emma’s heartbeat quickens, and she quickly looks around to see that everyone is distracted watching David and Mary Margaret go over some viral video. “Hey, so don’t mention Henry on air, okay? I never meant for you to meet him, and I don’t…he’s the best part of my life, but I like to keep my home life and work life separate.”

Killian nods and walks a little closer to her so that he sways into her space, his hand lingering close to hers. “I assumed as much, love. I promise you that I won’t mention him, and believe it or not, this was planned before I knew about your boy.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely a liar.”

He shrugs. “A liar who bought your dinner and gave you a complimentary dessert because I heard you were a fan of cobblers and all things in the pie family.”

“You know, just because you buy me dinner doesn’t mean I’m going to start liking you.” Killian winks before waggling those damn brows again, and Emma has to bite back her laugh. “Don’t think I’m taking my eyes off you for a second.”

“I would despair if you did.”

-/-

As the weeks go on and summer officially fades into fall, Emma continues to stick to her routines as all of the new parts of it become a little more normal. She wakes up early, occasionally getting to the gym before work but most of the time right after she finishes, goes to work to spend a few hours talking, and then runs errands before picking up Henry from school and spending her afternoon with him. Sometimes Ruby or Mary Margaret and David come over and on occasion Will takes Henry to the batting cages to practice his batting stance, but other than that, things are all the same.

Well, mostly.

She has gotten better about buying groceries more often (hello grocery delivery even with the delivery prices) and attempting to cook so that they can order less takeout, and Henry complains about her cooking a hell of a lot less.

(She really isn’t that bad.)

The one big change, however, is that every Friday night she and Henry wander a few blocks over to Sweet William to get dinner. It started out as an accident, mostly Emma craving a cheeseburger after going to a Pilates class that absolutely kicked her ass, and the two of them found themselves sitting at the corner of the bar again. That quickly changed as the hostess moved them to a booth that has comfortable seats and enough space to fit a few more people. Emma insisted that the bar is fine, but she was told that the owner insists that the two of them sit there.

(Henry is convinced that having a special table for him is the greatest thing in existence, and who knew that being treated specially at a restaurant would be such a huge thing for Henry?)

It goes like that every Friday night. She and Henry go to Sweet William, sitting at the same booth that is always reserved for them, and the two of them make it a challenge to try as many things on the menu as they can. Killian always comes out and sits with them for a few minutes, smelling of a mixture of foods that he doesn’t usually smell of on The Morning Show set, and he’s as charming as he always is.

Emma doesn’t trust it.

Except for the fact that she kind of does.

This is a coworker who is being kind to her and her son. He’s not doing anything untoward, and he’s not asking her for something. Not at all. Killian is simply being nice, entertaining Henry’s questions about what it’s like to be a professional chef and what it’s like to be on TV. Emma scoffs at that, telling Henry that she is literally on TV far more often than Killian is, but he doesn’t seem to care about any of that.

Professional chef obviously trumps Mom.

They learn that Killian moved to New York from London five years ago to open this restaurant after needing a change of scenery and getting all of the right paperwork and that he stumbled into working on The Morning Show because his restaurant manager saw the opening and applied for him as some kind of joke that ended up working out. In turn, Emma shares the story of meeting David when he came to visit the local news station she was working in and how that he offered her the opportunity to start working for the network. It took a bit of convincing, but she and Henry moved from Maine to Manhattan and had a bit of culture shock.

They love it.

The conversation never really seems to stop flowing, not at Friday night dinners and not during the Monday morning segments that keep on getting better and better as Emma becomes honestly comfortable bantering with Killian as she devours all of the food that he cooks. Ruby teases her about it, making far too many inappropriate jokes involving eating, and it only gets worse when there’s a stack of papers on Emma’s desk with printed off tweets talking about how many people look forward to having Emma and Killian working together.

“They ship you,” Ruby explains as she paints red lipstick onto Emma’s lips the day after a particularly funny Halloween segment where Killian made all of the food look both delicious and disgusting in all of its gory and spooky goodness.

“What in the world does that mean?”

“You have a ten-year-old. How do you not know what that means?”

“I think it’s a relationship thing, and he’s not interested in those, which I’m thankful for.”

“He will be,” Ruby promises, and Emma swears that doesn’t make her sentimental. “And shipping is, like, when you want two people to be together.”

Emma almost jolts forward in the chair, but she’s working particularly hard at not moving. She will not react to that. “That’s just weird.” “Eh, kind of, but also not really. You two are ridiculously hot and also have great chemistry together. I get it. Part your lips for me.”

Emma completely and totally pushes that entire conversation to the back of her mind as she finishes getting ready for work and spends her morning doing a Ninja Warrior course with a five-year-old who is a million times better than her at it. It’s actually ridiculous, and she really shouldn’t have worn tight jeans for this.

Not the best outfit choice. At least she got to wear sneakers and a sports bra. It probably would have been disastrous otherwise.

So things are changing, but even the new routines become actual routines, which is exactly what throws Emma for a loop when Henry asks her if he can spend the night with Avery Friday night. She says yes after checking in with Avery’s mom, and after dropping Henry off with his backpack and a promise to see him at noon tomorrow, Emma goes back to an empty apartment that never seems quite right when Henry isn’t around.

Emma’s all about her alone time, something she doesn’t get a lot of even with Henry getting older, but she’s thrown by not having him with her tonight. What does she do? Treat herself to a spa night? She doesn’t really need one. Her job pretty much keeps her pampered all the time. Maybe she could read a book? Or watch a new TV show? But what TV show? There are so many that she’s behind on, and she wouldn’t even know where to begin.

Food would probably be a good start.

And without really thinking about it, Emma grabs her purse, zips up her boots, and walks out the door of her apartment to find herself at she and Henry’s usual Friday night spot, the little reserved sign with their names waiting for them.

Except she’s by herself.

Until someone is sliding a piña colada in front of her and then sitting across from her in the booth.

“How in the world do you know that I like these?”

Killian grins, one of those dumb ones that reaches his eyes and makes them crinkle. “Your boy told me that you love them but that you have some ridiculous hang up about ordering them.”

“They’re not on your menu.”

“I know a guy.” Killian nods his head toward her. “Where is the lad tonight?”

Emma hums and takes a sip of her drink. It’s freaking fantastic, and she’s got to thank Henry for spilling her secrets to Killian. Or, at least, that one secret. “He is spending the night with a friend, so he abandoned me to eat by myself.”

“Kids, they betray us all.”

“You’ve been betrayed by a kid?”

“No. I find myself to be too charming.”

She snorts, not really meaning to. “Don’t get too full of yourself, Jones. One day you’ll probably have children, and they will betray you.”

He reaches up to scratch behind his ear. “Eh, I don’t know about that.”

“What? You don’t want kids?”

Wow, Emma. Just go for the personal, why don’t you?

“Don’t answer that,” she blurts out. “That’s too personal of a question, and I should have never asked it.”

Killian reaches over and places his hand over hers on the table, warmth spreading up over her arm. “It’s fine, Swan. I don’t find you intrusive. I think I’d like kids someday, but I’m thirty-four now, not seeing anyone I see a future with, and my relationship history isn’t the best.”

“I can understand that.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m a twenty-eight-year-old single mother to a ten-year-old. Do the math.”

Killian smiles and reaches up to adjust the collar of his shirt so that she can see a flash of dark chest hair and the slightest bit of ink. “Aye, I know. I didn’t want to presume. Is Henry’s dad – ”

“He doesn’t know that he exists,” Emma blurts out before downing far too much of her drink. This is too sweet for large gulps like that but really damn good. “I never got the chance to tell him. I was seventeen with no resources except for a slightly sympathetic foster mom and a part-time job as a video editor at a local news station, and Neal just disappeared into thin air one night.”

“What a bastard.”

“You’re telling me,” Emma scoffs. “It’s why I asked you not to say anything about Henry. I’m not ashamed of him. He’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I just…”

“You don’t want Neal to try to come back now that you’ve made a bit of a name out of yourself,” Killian finishes for her, and for the first time in all of the times that she’s told this story, someone understands. “I left London because my brother died in a Naval accident, and my long-term girlfriend left me because my grief was too much for her. She tried to contact me for the same reason the other day. On some level, I understand you even if I know having a child makes things more complicated.”

Emma’s heart absolutely pangs. Sharing tragic backstories and the scars on her heart is not her thing, but something about this man makes the words nearly flow out of her without hesitation. It’s not something she’s used to, not in the slightest.

“What was his name?”

“Liam. He, well, he’d call me a bloody idiot for naming this place after him and after the flower. It was my mum’s favorite, most likely why she named Liam what she did even if we never called him William. I thought it was a great way to honor them both, especially since they’re the people who taught me how to cook.”

“It was.”

Killian tightly smiles before lifting up his hand to wave a server down. “Though, I had a miserable experience with a dish gone wrong that nearly burned down my kitchen and took off my entire arm, so I’m not sure how great of teachers they actually were.”

“You have a restaurant that’s always packed, so I’d say they did a pretty good job.”

He leans forward as a server gets closer to them, and heat does not curl in Emma’s stomach when Killian winks. Not at all. “Or maybe I’m simply that naturally gifted, darling.” She opens her mouth to say something, but then Killian is turning away. “Wendy, can you tell everyone in the back that I’ll be dining out here tonight? Miss Swan is just about to help me come up with our seasonal menu since she has a real thumb on what the public wants.”

“Yes, sir, I can do that.”

Emma arches her brow. “Just invite yourself to my dinner, why don’t you?”

“Would it make it up to you if I pay?”

“You always pay. Every employee in this place refuses to take anything other than a tip from both me and Henry.”

“Huh, wonder why that is.”

They spend the next few hours picking apart the menu, arguing back and forth over food and drink preferences and the pros and cons of classics and specialties, and Emma has never laughed so hard over food. In fact, she’s never laughed so hard in her entire life. She’s spent so much time with this man but usually in short spurts, so she’s never actually gotten to see what he’s like or learn too much about him. He’s still quick to make an innuendo and slow to accept changes or any kind of criticism to the menu, but by the time the restaurant is closed and all of the tables are cleared, they’ve figured something out.

And had a few too many drinks that have her laughing even more.

They also have her accepting Killian’s offer to sleep in his guest bedroom in his apartment upstairs. She should say no, should not at all be accepting an offer like that when she has a perfectly good place ten minutes away, but she’s tired and the thought of getting to bed soon feels too good to pass up.

Her routine changes just a little bit more, and she embraces it for once in her life.

The alcohol makes it be a little less terrifying.

-/-

Killian does an entire segment on pies on the show Monday morning.

He says that it’s for Thanksgiving, but she knows that it’s for her.

He also adds more to the menu at Sweet William.

-/-

After that night, Henry starts inviting Killian over to the apartment for cooking lessons, claiming that both he and Emma could learn to be a little better so that they could eat more than one good meal a week, but Emma knows that there’s some kind of ulterior motive in Henry. There’s a sparkle in those brown eyes of his, and even though he claims that he wants to cook (as much as a ten-year-old can), he always seems to find himself in the living room so that Emma is left with just Killian.

Sneaky kid.

Who gets even sneakier when he invites Killian to Thanksgiving dinner with them. Emma was going to do it. She honestly was, but Henry beat her to it. And that’s exactly how Emma shows up at David and Mary Margaret’s house on Thanksgiving with Henry, Killian Jones, and three pies.

Every single person there is thoroughly intrigued and confused.

Emma is too.

She doesn’t bring men to holidays. She doesn’t bring men around at all. And she especially doesn’t bring men around who sit with their arm around her shoulder or who press their hand lightly into the small of Emma’s back as they stand in the kitchen and debate the different types of dressings to go with turkey.

Except that’s exactly what is happening here, and it sends a little thrill down Emma’s spine that she can’t quite place.

(She can, but it’s almost too terrifying to do that.)

Killian knows most everyone from his mornings on the show, so Emma doesn’t spend her time trying to ease him into things. He does that completely on his own and charms everyone the way that he always does even if she sees him scratch behind his ear, which is undeniably his nervous tick. And hopefully, just hopefully, no one is asking him a million questions like she’s getting asked about whether or not the two of them are dating and does he know that a weird section of the internet ships them?

They’re not, and he does. They laugh about it over wine and Emma’s really gross lasagna on the nights Killian has off from the restaurant.

The day passes in a blur of football and too much food, and before Emma can even blink, the three of them are packing up leftovers and getting an Uber back to Emma’s apartment. Henry crashes as soon as they get there, mumbling something about being too exhausted to take off his shoes, and then he disappears into his room while Killian puts the Tupperware containers into the fridge.

“You don’t have to do that,” she tells him before adjusting her shirt from where it wrinkled. “I can do it.”

“It’s fine, love,” he insists and he puts the leftover apple pie away next to the one he made for her to stay here. “Should we get some coffee and watch a movie? Are you one of those who is ready to celebrate Christmas already?”

“The turkey has been eaten, Jones. It’s time for Christmas. If I didn’t feel like I was dying from overeating and having to talk to people all day, we’d be out getting a Christmas tree right now.”

“Would I be the one carrying it?”

“You know it.”

“It would be my pleasure. I think the pine would mask the smell of kitchen on me.”

Emma turns the coffee maker on, and while it percolates, she starts straightening up the kitchen, putting away dishes in the dishwasher and wiping down countertops, but since they cooked (they being mostly Killian) in the kitchen of Killian’s restaurant, there’s not much to clean up. It’s what has her looking at Killian as he stares down at his phone, fingers typing away a message before the screen goes black and he’s placing it in his back pocket and looking at Emma with the softest smile that she’s ever seen.

And maybe it’s the wine or maybe it’s that she’s feeling good…hell, maybe it’s because Emma wants to do something for herself for a change. Maybe it’s that her reasons don’t matter. All she knows is that she’s stepping forward and pressing her palms to Killian’s cheeks and kissing him.

She’s kissing him.

He doesn’t kiss back, not at first. There’s a bit of a grunt, one that doesn’t necessarily sound pleasant, but then his hands are pressing against her back and his lips are moving over hers while he backs them across the kitchen until the sharp edge of her counter is hitting her back. His kiss is warm and tastes of apple and cinnamon and quite possibly a bit of the rum he had right before they left. Emma groans when his teeth nibble down onto her and his hand snakes up underneath her shirt so that she can feel the heat of his palm.

Everything about him is warm and inviting, and as his tongue runs over the seam of her lips and she parts her mouth for him, Emma realizes that it’s been like that the entire time, even when she was upset with him simply for replacing Chef Rudianni and daring to be something different.

Emma almost likes different now.

No, she does. When it’s the right kind of different and a change that she’s okay making.

Killian pulls back, and Emma realizes that they’re both panting, foreheads pressed together and noses squishing into each other’s cheeks. Emma nearly giggles at the thought of her having beard burn.

She’s the height of maturity. She also doesn’t care. It’s been a long time since she’s felt like this.

“That was,” Killian breathes out.

“Definitely happening again,” she smiles before kissing him again.

Little by little they manage to make it out of the kitchen and back to Emma’s bedroom, both of them careful not to make any noise so as not to wake Henry, and once the door is locked behind them, clothes are shed and Killian’s lips run across her body, whispering words that sound sweeter than anything else, until he’s driving her into madness in a way that she hasn’t felt in years.

Maybe not ever.

The good changes keep on coming.

(So does Emma.)

-/-

Henry barely bats an eye when Killian is there to make them breakfast in the morning even though Emma is more than sure to make sure everything stays appropriate for him. She’s not really sure how to navigate dating around Henry, and when she asks him if he’s okay with she and Killian being together, he tells her that he wants her to be happy.

He also says that he wants to keep getting free cheeseburgers.

-/-

A year later, Killian names the cheeseburger at his restaurant after Henry.

The piña colada is named after Emma.

-/-

Every Monday morning and every Friday night turns into every day, and Emma is more than okay with that change.

[beabea-ff]

TOW Chandler’s Infertility - Part One

Words: 1.4k Pairing: Chandler Bing x Monica Geller Warnings: Could be kind of angsty

Summary: What if it was only Chandler who had fertility issues?

Masterlist (mobile version)

The last month had been a nightmare for Chandler, probably as bad as that infamous Thanksgiving when his parents told him they were divorcing. He and Monica had been trying to have a baby since they had gotten married, but after a year of negative pregnancy tests they had decided to have a check up. They had gone to a fertility clinic and had received the results a month ago. Chandler clearly remembers the moment he got that damn call from Doctor Connelly.

He was reading a magazine while on the sofa — waiting for Monica to come back from the laundry room — when the phone rang. He jumped up and quickly answered it. “Hello? Oh hi, Doctor Connelly” he said, smiling. They had been waiting for this call and he couldn’t wait for the results of the tests. He wasn’t to happy having to ‘do it in a cup’, as he had told Monica, but he knew that the test would ease her nerves and make sure there were no problems. So he swallowed his complainers and did what he was told. “No, she’s not here but, you know, I can tell her. Should I be sitting down for this?” his smile faded as he heard the answer, “Oh. Well, so what does that mean?” In that moment his world crumbled. He didn’t know what to think or feel, didn’t know how to continue the conversation on the phone. He just wanted it to be a stupid joke, but it wasn’t. “Ok. Ok, thank you. Thanks.” was all he managed to say before hanging up.

Chandler put down the phone and took a big breath, trying to compose himself. Great job, Chandler. You managed to screw up once again in your life! Way to go. He thought as he processed Doctor Connelly’s news. Maybe he was too damaged from his childhood and his parents’ separation and this was the world’s way of telling him he would never be a good father, that’s why he couldn’t have children. As much as he wanted to, at the moment he didn’t have the luxury to dwell in self pity because Monica was going to be back soon and he needed to figure out a way to tell her. He needed to break the news that, because of him, her childhood dream would never come true. They would never have a child together. How was he supposed to you break such news? How was he supposed to begin? Chandler knew he couldn’t make jokes, it wasn’t appropriate and it would just frustrate her, but he also knew it was a defense mechanism he had always used and was nowadays part of him. He just needed to keep it simple, straightforward, because no matter how he put this, he knew it would break her heart.

Chandler was deep in thought when Monica walked in and didn’t notice her until she greeted him with a smile and a “Hey sweetie.” He took a deep breath and blurt out “Doctor Connelly just called”, but couldn’t force himself to say anything else. He needed to collect his thoughts and try to sound coherent, he had to be able to explain to her what the matter was. He just wasn’t sure he could do this. “With good news?” Monica very quickly asked while wringing her hands, “Of course it is not good news, you just said ‘Doctor Connelly just called.’ If it was good news you would have said ‘Doctor Connelly just called!’ But so what is it? Is there a problem, uh? Is there a problem with me or with you?” Chandler felt a knot form in his throat, blocking the words from coming out. “It’s me” he basically whispered. “What?” was all Monica could say at the moment. She either wasn’t sure she had heard correctly or she didn’t want to believe it. “Apparently my sperm have low motility“ Chandler clarified. He knew he ought to explain more, but he just couldn’t. In that moment he didn’t feel strong enough and all he wanted to do was to crawl in bed and forget everything or to wake up and realize it was all a bad dream, but the rational part of his brain knew it wasn’t possible because that was his reality now. “Oh… what does that mean?” Monica too didn’t really know how to react. She hoped Chandler was joking, as he alway did, but deep down she knew he would never do something like that; the matter was too delicate to make fun of it and Chandler knew it would hurt her. And she knew he loved her too much to risk it. “It means that my guys won’t get off their barcaloungers. It means…” he was trying and failing to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, but Monica’s pained “Chandler?” made him collect himself. After he heard the pain in her voice he became serious and said “It means that we can keep trying, but there’s a good chance this may never happen for us.” After those words left his mouth, Monica started weeping and it broke Chandler’s heart. “I’m sorry” was all he could say before hugging her. And they stayed like that for what felt like hours, trying to comfort each other.

After that night everything had gotten a turn for the worst, and now Monica could barely look at him. He knew she needed time to cope with the information, but he couldn’t help the pain he felt in his heart every time she shied away from him. She was distancing herself from him, had started avoiding touching him in any possible way, and that hurt him. A lot. He missed those little moments that helped him go through the tough days and brightened the good ones even more. He missed simply sitting on the oversized chair in their apartment, cuddling while their friends hanged around and talked about their day. He missed their passionate good morning and goodnight kisses that had now become more like pecks on the lips, but he couldn’t do anything. It was his fault they couldn’t have children. With him she couldn’t make her dream come true. Him and his bloody Bing genes.

He couldn’t live like this. He knew she deserved better. She deserved a real man and not his impotent self. No matter how many times his friends told him that it wasn’t his fault, that he couldn’t change how he was born, he knew he had to do something. No matter how much it pained him, he had to solve the problem and he saw only one way to do it. That was the reason why he forced himself to talk to her and why he was home early from work, anxiously waiting for Monica to come back from her grocery shopping.

“Hey, Mon!” Chandler said, standing up from the sofa. “Chandler! What are you doing home early?” Monica asked surprised. “Okay, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about us, y'know a lot of uhh, us thinking. And uh, I know it’s been hard for both of us lately, but I think we need to talk. And I ask you to listen to me, because what I have to say is already hard. I just want to get it over with.” He said and simply received a nod in reply. “The day I asked you to marry me, I promised I’d try to make you as happy as you make me feel. And I’ve tried as best as I could, but it’s obvious I won’t ever be good enough. You’ve always wanted to have a baby and I can’t give you one. It kills me to know you’ll never be fully happy with me, and I know it’s killing you too. You’ve been keeping a distance lately and I understand. I don’t blame you at all, after all I’m the broken one, I’m the failure. I’m not man enough to be able to give you what you always dreamed. I’ve been thinking a lot this past weeks, and I think … I-I just …” His eyes felt like they were burning, tears were threatening to come down. “God … I won’t blame you if you want to get a divorce. I-I won’t fight it and I’ll support you, whatever your choice will be. I love you so much and I can’t stand seeing you so broken knowing it’s all my fault.” It took all his strength not to cry and he didn’t look at Monica in the eyes, because he knew that if he did it would break him. After all, she was the best thing that had ever happened in his life and giving her the chance to walk away was, at the same time, the right thing to do and too painful to watch.

A/N: It’s been a while since I wrote a fanfic, and this came from an idea I had a month or so ago. Please let me know what you think about it. (I also posted it on my ao3)

Part Two will be up soon

[mercury-filled-intp]

i made a wlw version of The Selection

For all of you touch starved gays out there, I came prepared!! If you are in teh market for:

a) wlw romances 

b) wlw romances 

c) wlw slightly cottagecore romances involving princesses and mild references to the l word

boy do i have the story for you. I’ve put it under the break so you can read here if you want. but it’s also on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/23904733

so knock yourself out. this is what an intp does with too much spare time. i’m literally rewriting the whole book. so. yeah

Jen Carpenter was building an overly elaborate birdhouse in her basement woodshop when the telephone rang. Its high-pitched wobble echoed across the scuffed linoleum and wooden paneled staircase until her mother answered the line.

           “Carpenter and Son, how may I help you?” She said. Jen sang a showtune while she worked, cutting a hole into a thin plank of wood. She was in the middle of making a bright pink birdhouse for a Two’s spoiled daughter. Jen was instructed to bedazzle the front, but she figured she would take some creative liberty and make it look a little less disgusting, even though as a Five, she should have been answering to them. She was in the middle of nailing the cut and sanded pieces together when her mother came, practically rolling, down the stairs. “Jen, that was the royal court who just called…” Sandra said in an annoying voice. “They mentioned we have a daughter between the ages of seventeen and twenty in our household… you know what that means—” Jen cut her off quickly, knowing where the conversation was going.

           “I’m not going to audition for The Selection, Mom. Get over it. I’m perfectly happy with my work here!” Jen loved her woodshop, but there were other reasons why she didn’t want to test her luck with the Princess. One of them being her true love waiting for her every night in the treehouse in the woods, where she met up with Vivienne most nights. Vivienne was another Five, born to a family of well-respected maids. Their families were close enough that they knew each other growing up, and fell in love almost instantly. Since they were both thirteen, they’ve been sneaking up to the treehouse (built with care by Jen one year) to exchange snacks and gifts and hopes for the future when they will finally leave their parents for something new. They had to keep their relationship a secret, or else their parents would forbid them from seeing each other. They fantasized about going to New Asia, where Vivienne could finally meet her colonial ancestors—but they wouldn’t be able to follow through with their future plans if Jen was married away to Princess Shane! Vivienne wasn’t able to audition—her parents didn’t have enough money to pay the audition fee—but Sandra was determined to get her daughter into the competition. Jen was a beautiful singer, but wasn’t quite ready to share her talent with the world.

           “You know how much the money would help us, Jen. I can open the bakery I’ve always wanted, your father could expand the business with Joe, it could all be so amazing. Just audition for me. Please? You’re so talented…” Sandra cooed, already living vicariously through Jen even though she hadn’t even been Selected yet.

           She would decide what to do about it all later. Princess Shane was gorgeous. She wouldn’t hate being with her… realistically, every citizen under the age of thirty probably had a crush on the princess. But, she had already met her true love, and was not ready to give that up. And, either way, she wouldn’t even be selected anyway. Being able to carry a tune didn’t make her the most attractive in all of District 4. Jen sighed and resumed construction on the birdhouse, lost in a daydream thinking about tomorrow’s possibilities. Before she could get into the groove of her work, though, her sister Chloe came bounding down the staircase with stomps belonging to an ogre. Bright orange pigtails (violently contrasting the basic dark-brown hair of the rest of her family…) trailed behind her as she very nearly fell onto the basement floor.

           “Please audition, Jen! You and Shane would look so pretty together!” She practically screamed, looking at Sandra for approval. Jen couldn’t believe her mother had brought Chloe into this. Every ten-year-old in the People’s Republic was obsessed with Princess Shane, that was not fair. There were probably more Princess Shane figurines in circulation than dollar bills. Jen conceded, though, because she’d do anything to make her sister happy. Even if she happened to be the devil incarnate with that red hair.

           “Alright, I’ll think about it. Now move,” she guided them towards the staircase with her callused hands on their backs, “I won’t be able to finish this by Sunday with you hovering,” Jen said. Her mother and sister turned up the stairs, giddily discussing what dress to have Jen wear to the auditions. The People’s Republic had strict laws on what is wearable in public, so she didn’t have many options either way. Too much glitter is seen as a public nuisance, and short skirts are seen as too tempting for the guards that patrol the streets every day. If only they were still America, Jen thought to herself, recalling history lessons from her mother as a child. Two centuries before, after the Great Eurasian War, The United States was absorbed by China and turned into the People’s Republic. But, because there was a literal ocean between the two land masses, the United States had an easy time overthrowing Chairman Mao V6, Eurasian Emperor. Now, nearly 170 years later, Jen can now call herself a People’s Republican. All thanks to Marsia Washington, the woman who led the revolution against Eurasia. At least, that’s what she learned in history classes at school. Her dad didn’t seem to like the curriculum, but Jen assumed that was because he was taught differently fifty years before. Once Chloe and Sandra’s gossip faded away into distant squealing overhead, Jen was finally able to start lacquering the birdhouse, omitting those godawful rhinestones.

#

           By nightfall, dinner was already on the table. Not much construction work was requested in the winter, so the meal was meager: stale turkey leftover from Thanksgiving with rice, and toaster strudels for dessert. Jen’s stomach groaned at the table, as forks and knifes clashed together. Through a full mouth, her little brother Max talked about his day at the junkyard with their father. Chloe and Jen’s mother discussed the latest plans for the business, and Jen stared out the window into the city lights visible just across the pier. She lost herself in the dazzling billboards and buildings, before the television set knocked her back into reality.

           “Selection auditions are tomorrow! How exciting! Hello, girls!” The news was on, and the most obnoxious reporter was covering the night’s program from District 2. She dragged some unsuspecting teenagers from the streets into the limelight by the forearms, “Are any of you planning on trying your luck at Princess Shane’s hand?” Most girls out of the group said they would, gushing about how exciting it was to get a chance to be with the Princess. Sandra glanced towards Jen expectantly, gently nudging her with a pointy elbow. Promptly ignoring her mother, Jen turned back to face the table.

           “We found a lovely dress for you. It’s pink tulle, and Vivienne’s mother said she’ll tailor it so it’s not dragging behind you. It was my dress back in the day,” Sandra said, staring wistfully into nothing, reliving her glory days. Jen nodded along passively, eyes focused on finishing the last few bites of toaster strudel on her plate.

           “Don’t do too much, Mom. I don’t even know if I’ll get picked! Let alone if I’ll even audition…” Sandra and Chole both whined at the same time, Max chatting with their father, ignoring the Selection talk. Jen thought of Vivienne, seeing her mother work on the dress she would wear for Princess Shane. She couldn’t do that to Vivienne. “You know, I’m feeling really full,” Jen said, slyly brushing some turkey and rice from her plate into a bowl under the table. “May I excuse myself?”

           “Alright, but get to sleep early. You want to be fresh-faced for your audition!” Jen nodded quickly, and headed to her room. Her family had lived here her whole life, so nothing changed except a new bed and desk over the years. There was a dirty mirror in the corner, a permanently unmade bed by the window, and a tragically stained once-white carpet covering the floor. Shutting the door, she uncovered the food she was able to sneak away from the table. It was not a full meal, but would be enough to keep Vivienne going for a while. She shoved the leftovers in a bag and then that bag into a backpack, slinging the familiar, worn fabric over her toned shoulders. Vivienne was always looking out for her siblings, even if it meant skipping meals so they could eat. Bringing her extras was the least Jen could do, considering all the kind things Vivienne has done for her.

           She turned to the mirror, trying in vain to look semi-presentable. Her shoulder-length curly hair was limp and dry, and her face looked dull and sunken. She was wearing a dark grey tunic and maxi skirt—optimal for mobilization and constant airflow but reminiscent of a potato sack. After doing her best to smooth out the wrinkles with her hands, she hiked up her skirt and bounded out the window.

[serahsanguine]

School, Sex and Subterfuge NC-17

Chapter 6 of?

part one, part Two,  part 3, part 4, part 5,  AO3

tagging @today-in-fic @skullsmuldon @foxystarbucks

************************

Chapter 6;  Situations

Mulder walked towards the Lone Gunman, as they called themselves, which was on the other side of campus. He finally arrived at their newspaper office and knocked on the door, hearing a faint come in. He walked into the office looking around seeing only Frohike there.

Frohike turned in his swivel office chair, turning away from the computer.

“Mulder my man, how are you?”

“I’m good Frohike. Are the other two in lectures?”

“Yeah man, I’m just writing this week's article. What brings you down here anyway? That little redhead causing you trouble?”

“No, she fine,”  Mulder face lit up on thinking about Scully.

“Oh man, you’ve got it bad. Not that blame you, she is pretty hot.” Mulder gave him a hard glair. Frohike laughed. “You know I won’t touch her. If this gets serious, though, promise you will bring her around.”

“You know that won’t happen. Rule one: don’t get emotionally involved.”

Frohikie gave him a sceptical look and thought ‘yeah, we will see how far that gets you’. Instead, he said nothing more on the subject and took the conversation in another direction.

“How’s Sam?”

“She’s good as far as I know.” I really should call her. “Do you mind if I stay for an hour or so until my next lecture?”

“Sure, you know what to do.”

Mulder walked in and went to one of the spare computers, he got to work and carried on chatting away to Frohike.

**********************************************************

Scully checked the time, she had about 30 minutes to grab some lunch before she had to go to her next lecture. She made quick haste to the small cafeteria as she had no time to go to her usual spot today. Grabbing a small salad and a bottle of water she went to meet Serah by the water fountain.

10 minutes later Scully was walking there expecting to see Serah hanging around with her friends. Instead, she spotted her alone in the shade, wearing a long sleeve jumper. She thought it was a bit odd but decided not to question her friend’s clothing choice. Scully looked again: she had to admit her friend did look quite beautiful. It wasn't necessarily the pose that her friend was in; but about how causal she seemed, her defences were down, she looked at peace. The leaves were scattered around her feet, the mix of green, brown, yellow and orange, contrasting against the green grass as well as Serah’s black jeans. She quickly got out her mobile opening the camera app and took a quick photo.

She walked over to Serah, lightly tapping her on the shoulder, which made Serah jump.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to startle you,” Scully said apologetically and sat down next to her, kneeling as best she could wearing the skirt she had picked, which as of today had become one of her favourites.  

“It’s okay Dana. I was reading some biography on Van Gogh, quite fascinating actually.”

“I’m sure it is.” Scully was smiling to herself, suddenly not paying attention. Warm memories of her escape that happened no less than an hour before flooded her brain.

“Well someone got laid this morning,” Serah said with a smirk and lightness to her voice.

“Umm, what was that?”

“Nothing,” Serah started laughing. “That’s a nice cologne you’re wearing,” and started laughing even harder when her friend turned a bright red.

Damn my Irish skin and also, shit! Do I smell of him? Do I smell of sex?

Serah started hiccuping, she was laughing so hard. When she finally managed to calm herself down she could see the worried expression on Scully’s face.

“Dana don’t worry I can’t smell him on you,” she leant towards her friend and smelled her skin. “Also you don’t smell of sex either, you have done a very good job with your perfume.”

Scully faced Serah and gave her a sceptical look: “How did you know then?”

“You were smiling. I haven’t seen you generally smile like that unless you’re thinking about a certain professor of ours,” the last part was a whisper so no one could hear her.

“Well yes, something did happen and I’m not going to discuss it so out in the open. While we are on the subject, I have the document for you to sign.”

“Thank you,” she looked at her watch “Dana, we must get going or we’re both going to be late for our lectures.”

Scully put away what she had of her lunch, and Serah put away her book amongst other things and both headed towards their lectures.

//  

A few weeks passed. Serah had indeed signed the document which leads to more sex which pleased them both. They were both enjoying their routine of Scully either being called to Mulder's office or her randomly turning up. Neither one were complaining, she was getting the best orgasms of her life and so was he. They enjoyed each other’s company but neither one was ready to admit to it. She was getting straight A’s and being true to his word she was not failing in his class.

Thanksgiving was just around the corner. Scully was looking forward to the welcome break away from school. It would be nice to see Mellissa again. She promised she would make it back from her trip in time and stay way past winter break.

On the flip side, Mulder was looking forward to seeing his sister again. She was making her way back from San Francisco for both Thanksgiving and Christmas and staying with him, first of all in the house he owned nearby and then in their father's old house in the Vineyard. Since both the parents died, he hadn’t had the heart to sell it, he instead rented it out for months at a time. That was why Sam was his whole world, they were all each other had.

*****************************************************

Scully had arrived at her mother's house. Dumping her bags by her side she gave her mum a long hug. She had missed her terribly.

“I thought I was going to pick you up from the airport Dana?”

“You were Mom, but I got an early flight. Is Ahab here?”

“Yes, he just went to the grocery store to pick up the fresh fruit and veg for tomorrow. Pick up your bags and put them in your room and if you want a small nap there are fresh sheets on the bed.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Scully picked up her bags and walked up the stairs. Dumping them at the foot of the bed, taking off her jacket, she laid down and went for a small nap. It had been a long flight and an even longer day.

She woke up. The smell of a home cooked dinner mixing in with the smell of one of Melissa incenses. One thing was for certain: she had missed being home and spending time with the family.  

She wandered downstairs and peered through to the kitchen: mom and Ahab were putting the finishing touches on dinner. Bill, Melissa and Charlie were already sat at the table.

“Hey Starbuck, go sit down, dinner’s nearly ready,” her dad said before wandering back into the kitchen.

Scully peeked around the corner to see him hug her mom around the hips and kissing her on the cheek. She smiled. Maybe someday I will have a relationship like this.  

She walked back through to the dining room and Missy looked up and jolted away from the table the chair scraping slightly on the wood floor hugging her sister fiercely.

“Missy I can’t breathe!”

“Sorry.” She let go of her sister and sat back down.

“You need to tell me all about Europe.”

“And you need to tell me all about that guy,” Missy said a bit to loudly.

Bill instantly stopped talking to Charlie and looked in Scully’s eyes with a fierceness “What guy, Dana?”  

“There is no guy , Bill ” She put emphasis on both the guy and his name.

She matched his look with one of her own. And it turned into a staring contest. No more than 5 minutes later the spell was broken with the sound of their parents walking in and setting the food on the table.

“What is it, Mom? It smells amazing,” asked Charlie in such a young voice. Barely 15 and the only one left still living at home.  

��Nanna’s family recipe for beef stew, with some fresh carrots potatoes and broccoli.”

All the family smiled, it was one of everyone’s favourites.

//

An hour later, the beef stew eaten, no one had room for dessert. Charlie had gone into his room, and Bill into his. The girls had sat down in theirs after helping clean up. They kept talking about the visits away from home.

“Europe was amazing, so many different cultures. Such beautiful architecture. I brought so many new crystals and learnt so much more over there than I ever would have over here.”

“Sound’s amazing Missy. Are you going back?”

No, I don't think so. I have an art placement at the museum, working on restoring old paintings.”

“Are you staying in Maryland?”

“Actually I have been thinking of getting a flat in Washington and that way it means less commute.”

“Congratulations.”

She was happy for Missy, she would be able to call whenever she wanted and always have her to fall back on if she ever got in trouble. Which she could not have done if she was still in Europe.

“Enough about me. How’s School?”  

“School’s fine I'm doing well, making good friends, the usual.” She shrugged, her shoulders trying to deflect the conversation away from her. Missy was having none of it.

“You meet any cute guys?”

“No.”

Scully was a little too quick with her reply.

“Ok good. Well, then I’m going to go ahead and set you up on that date.”

“Wait, what date?”

“Just a date with a guy I knew from high school.”

“No Missy, please don’t,” she pleaded with her sister.

“Why? Have you got some hot date waiting for you back at school?”

Missy was teasing her and she knew it but she still squirmed under her sister scrutiny and she could also tell Missy was enjoying every minute of it.

“No!”

Missy picked up her mobile, and mock dialled a number.

“Ok, I have someone,” Scully finally admitted.

“Go on.”

“Well, he is older than me, he’s in my Psych class. He has kind hazel eyes, mousey brown hair. A body to die for.” She trailed off and smiled thinking about Mulder.  

“Well, well, well. It sounds like you are quite acquainted with this person’s anatomy by the glint in your eyes and that big old cheesy grin you have.”

Scully turned bright red in front of her sister and she knew she was gone.

“What’s his name?”

“I’m not saying,” Scully didn’t want to break the contract by revealing her relationship with Mulder.

“You love him,” Missy stated.

“I do not.”

She was sharp and fast with the reaction to her sister’s statement. But the truth was she didn’t know what she was feeling for him. She knew there was an attraction but not how far her feelings ran.

“It would be breaking the rules anyway, no attachments and that way we can both walk away.”

“If you say so, Dana. But I can tell these things and I’m certain he feels the same way.”

“Shut up Missy, you know I don’t believe in that new age shit.”

“Oh Dana, that language. Does Daddy know you talk that way?”

“Who do you think I learnt it from?”

They both fell into a fit of giggles and laughs, Mellissa dropping the subject for now. Until the time felt right to bring it up again.

*********************************************

Samantha had arrived in the wee hours of the morning. Mulder had picked her up not trusting the cab drivers that early in the morning with his baby sister. He let her sleep most of the day while he graded papers and daydreamed about a certain redhead. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice his sister walk in the room.

“Fox, who’s got you all dreamy eyed?”

“Humm, no one.”

He placed the last assignment in front of him. Turning to look at his sister in her ¾ trousers and vest top, hair in two braids. He smiled and watched her walk through to the kitchen turning on the coffee machine leaning against the side. She turned around to look at him.

“I know you’re lying big brother, wait till I have had some coffee. Once I wake up and we’re going to discuss this.”

“Nothing to discuss Sam.”

She threw him a look that said everything that needed to be said and he reluctantly knew he was going to have to talk to her about Scully.

Sam made her coffee and sat down opposite Mulder on the sofa. She took a few sips: he could tell she instantly felt better.

“So, Fox, I see you broke the biggest rule.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“You’re going for plausible deniability, interesting.” She sat back on her seat, crossing her legs in front of her, nursing her still steaming cup of coffee. She was smirking at him.

“Sam, I haven’t broken any rule,” he said slightly aggravated now.

“Who is she? I know you can’t tell me her name because that would make two rules on broken.”

He couldn’t help but notice the slight comment but decided to ignore it for now.

“She has fiery red hair and the most beautiful blue eyes. The kind you get lost in. She’s sweet, kind, passionate about her studies and loves to challenge me.”

“So she is the perfect woman for you,” she said mockingly.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”  She drank the last sip of her coffee, placing the empty mug on the coffee table.

“I love you, Sam, but you’re reading too much into this. Yes, she is a good student and a wonderful woman, but that’s as far as it goes”

“We shall see, won’t we?” She picked up her cup and proceeded to the kitchen, leaving him to his thoughts.

Did his feelings run deeper than he wanted to admit to himself? Did he see himself spending a future with Scully? But Sam was right: that was breaking the most precious rule he had set out. Never fall in love with the person you’re sleeping with. Never let your guard down. He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard Sam talk to him.

“You order the pizza and I will put on Silence of the lambs.”

****************************************

Thanksgiving was a good experience on both parts. They each enjoyed spending time with family. Melissa didn’t bring up the guy situation again. And Sam didn’t bring up the situation of Mulder falling for his student.

They had been back in School for about a week now. They hadn’t really had time to speak to each other. They said their quick hello’s in the gym each morning. He was busy with his lectures and she was busy making sure she had all of her assignments in and to a good standard.

He had found time on Friday’s lunch break to send her an email.

From: FWMulder@Hotmail.co.uk

To: DanaKScully@Hotmail.co.uk

Subject: Your Assignment.

Dear Scully, I would like to meet you in my office at 6.30pm to discuss the assignment that is due next week.

Yours Faithfully, Mulder.

Scully was at lunch when she received the email. Serah had just finished her club sandwich, and she was twirling her salad around with a fork. She read the email and her face lit up. She had missed him a little more than she liked to admit but this would probably be the last time they would meet up before they all went on winter break.

She wanted to tell him about her sister’s notorious idea of trying to get her on a date. They talked about Mellissa in the past and how she was the wild and free one and Scully herself was the shy one. Mulder had simply disagreed saying she was very wild in a certain department just remembering that statement made her blush all over again.

“Oh, loverboy messaging you again?” Serah said teasingly

“No, why would you say that?”

“You just get a look on your face that screams ‘I’m having great sex’”

“I do not.” Scully pushed herself away from the table crossing her arms around her chest.

“Yeah, you do.” There was a short pause and Serah turned to her friend and studied her. Dana’s body was tense: she definitely wasn’t amused and in complete denial. “Ok if you do not have any feeling more than just a casual sex relationship you should come to the party tonight. I’m betting there’re lots of young impressionable men and women that you could take advantage off.”

“You know I don’t swing that way,” Scully sharply replied.

“Whatever floats your boat, Dana. Are you coming or not?” she asked a little impatiently.  

“Humph, we will see.”

“Will you text me when you have decided either way?”

“I will do, promise. Now we really should be heading to class,”  she started putting her things in her bag and stood up.

“Sometimes Dana you can be a right stick in the mud” Serah also stood up and got pushed in the shoulder for the remark. “Ow.”

“Oh, poor baby” Scully replied sarcastically even putting on a mock pouty face.

“Shut up” she teasingly said back in the same manner.  

They both broke up into a fit of laughs and giggles walking back to the classes for the day.

//

Mulder had been pacing his office for the last hour. He was nervous; he knew he shouldn’t be, but there was that little nagging feeling that he had in the back of his mind ever since Thanksgiving when Sam pointed out certain things to him. There was soon a femine knock on the door. He turned on his heels and looked up at the clock. There was only one person that could be knocking at the door this time of day but the shadow of the woman was too tall to be Scully.

He walked up to his office door and opened it to find Vice Principal Fowley at his door.

“Good Evening Vice Principal Fowley. What can I do for you this evening?” He said with a sarcastic cheer.  

She walked into his office barging past him.

“Come straight in, why don’t you?” He muttered under his breath.  

“Fox, what are you doing this evening?” Mulder opened his mouth but before he could even get a word out she spoke again. “It doesn't matter, I want to take you to dinner since you’ll free.”

“Well, actually... Diana, I am not free, I have a student coming around. She needs help with her last assignment.”

She leaned close to him, his back flush with the door frame. Her fingers started walking seductively up his chest while whispering in his ear “But Fox I remember how much fun we used to have at dinner and after it.”  It physically made his skin crawl under her touch.

He placed his hand on her upper arms pushing her back slightly and looking her in the eye.

“Maybe once Diana, but that was a long time ago, and never again.”

He was still standing with his back against the door when he heard a woman’s cough from behind him. He turned seeing Scully standing there, her big blue eyes staring at him. God, she looked beautiful, her hair in two low pigtails, her face free of makeup, wearing jean shorts and a black tank top. He licked his lips feeling his heart hammer against his chest.  

“Miss Scully, do come in. Vice Principle Fowley was just leaving.”

Mulder watched Diana take a glance at Scully and her face soured like she had sucked a lemon. Scully smiled at Diana and walked into his office and if he didn’t know any better she put a little extra wiggle in her hips.

“Maybe another time Fox, good evening Miss Scully.”

Diana walked out of the office and out of sight. He instantly breathed a sigh of relief shutting the door behind him giving his full attention to the beautiful fiery redhead standing in his office.  

“So, professor, you have been busy”

He looked at her and her face was blank. They stared at each other and he watched her lips curl up at the corners and a full grin broke and a very girly laugh filled the room.

“Sit down Scully tell me how seeing your family went.”

They walked through to his private office and she sat on the sofa. He watched her, and couldn’t help staring at her ass, licking his lips again as those shorts left little to the imagination. He sat down next to her, his jeans touching the bare skin of her knees. Her hand resting on his leg just above where their knees touched.

“Thanksgiving was nice, Missy was back from Europe and she told me her stories about how exotic the men were there.”

He started kissing her neck, biting, nipping, licking up and down from her ear to the clavicle. His hand moved underneath the hem of her tank top making slow circles with his fingers.

“There’s a funny story, actually, do you want to hear it?”

He stopped kissing her neck and answered in a hoarse whisper.

“Yes”

He moved his hand up her stomach making small horizontal lines underneath her breast feeling her heartbeat underneath his hand. Her breathing was fast and small droplets of sweat were forming on her brow.

"Well while I was down visiting my family, Missy….. Oh, God."

He lifted up her top, so it was now sitting just over her breasts. He took a nipple within his mouth biting down hard, making her back arch away from the sofa and more into him. He greedily took more breast into his mouth and sucked vigorously.

He moved his hand down her stomach and underneath both her jeans and underwear finding her soaking wet for him. He glided his fingers through her wet folds before finding her clit. He played with it and gently flicked it with his fingers before making small circles in it. His mouth started working on her other breast giving it the same attention.

"She tried to set me up on a date," she blurted out.

Upon hearing this something clicked inside him. He couldn't place the sudden feeling within him but there was one emotion overruling them all. He felt anger towards her for the first time since they had met, the prospect of her going out and having sex with someone else made him angry.

He was brought back to reality when he heard Scully moan his name. With his mouth still on her breast his fingers still on her clit he wanted to cum and make her cum hard. He thrashed his fingers in her clit and bit down as hard as he could without drawing blood. He soon felt her body convulse and twitch under him. He smirked in satisfaction and removed his fingers and went and sat back on the chair across from her.

He sat there and watched her come out of the post orgasmic bliss and her realisation that he was sitting across from her. His anger bubbling inside of him.

"Did you agree on the date?" He said with a venomous sneer.

"No, why would I?" He watched the look of confusion come across her face.

"You're a beautiful young woman," he said it more as a statement than an answer.

"That may be true, but I didn't want to."

"Why? It's not like the contract says you can't sleep with anyone else."

"Wait, who said I was sleeping with anyone? It was just a date," she spat back angrily, she placed her top back where it was meant to be and stood up.

"Well you sleep with me, don't you? So I wouldn't be  surprised that a 'date' would turn into sex?" He was fuming with anger now. If there could be steam coming out of his ear there would be.

"Fuck you Mulder! I have no idea what has gotten into you but I am not your personal punching bag."

"We have done that several times."

"Maybe you should go sleep with Diana. Every student knows how well that went down." She walked out of his office and slammed the door behind her leaving him still seated staring at the door.

//

She walked down the hall ready to punch and scream at anything that got in her way. Why had he treated her like that after just giving her one of the best orgasms of her life? She hated him so much right now. She got her mobile out of her bag and punched number two on her speed dial.

"Hello?"

"Serah, are you still going to the party?"

"Yes, why?"

"Is the offer still open?"

"Of course! Does that mean you going?" Scully heard the change in her friend's voice; she went from sounding bored too very excited in 30 seconds flat.

"Yes. When are you leaving?"

"I was going to leave in 30 minutes, but now I need to help you with an outfit and makeup and hair."

"Thank you, I will be there in about ten."

"See ya then!"

Scully heard the dial tone and put the phone back in her bag. She was kind of glad Serah didn't ask about Mulder. She didn't want to get into it right now with anyone. She wanted to get drunk and forget about it.

1 Hour and 30 minutes later

Frat house

9.30pm

Serah and Scully were walking up towards the frat house with its disco light shining out of the windows illuminating the dark sky. The music could be heard from a mile away, and the vibrations could be felt while getting closer. They stood outside with drunk couples kissing and fornicating on the front punch. There were even a few people already passed out drunk sleeping on the grass.

Scully was wearing a slimline short lace dress with a sweetheart neckline. It wasn’t the dress she was comfortable in, and it was certainly not a dress she would ever buy. But as Serah pointed out, she wouldn’t care as soon as the alcohol kicked in, and she was right. She also pointed out that this dress would catch anyone's eye whether they were male or female.  She wore black stiletto heels making her seem a little bit taller and her slim legs longer. Her hair was wavy curling framing her face, her make up smooth with a smokey eye, and a deep red lipstick making her cheekbones and smile define her face.

Serah was wearing a spaghetti strapped crop corset with high waisted black leather look trouser with simple strappy heels. Sometimes she wished she had Serah’s confidence. But tonight wasn’t about sad thoughts it was about forgetting them entirely.

They walked arm in arm passed the people fornicating, passed the people asleep into the house in search for drinks to knock them senseless.

A few hours later

Scully was sitting on a brick wall, her heels next to her. Her feet freely swinging in the air. She was staring into the dark sky, watching the darkness floating, disappearing, swirling around the twinkling of the city lights. Her body was buzzing from all the alcohol consumed. She was lost in thought when she felt a warm feminine shoulder touch her shoulder and glide across her shoulder blade. She turned to see Serah sitting down next to her in someone's jacket.

“What are you staring at?”

“Nothing, just thinking.”

“No thinking tonight, you promised,” Serah pouted lightly pushing Scully’s shoulder.

“I know. Jesus, Serah, how many have you had?”

Serah swayed slightly before answering “Oh I lost count after the third or fourth shot,”  she placed her hand on top of Scully’s. “Why did you decide to come?”

“Mulder acting like he doesn't give a shit about anything or anyone. And best of all, he had the Vice principal with him.”

“He didn’t! That bastard...”

“Oh god, I’m too drunk to even think about this right now.”

Scully was momentarily taken back when Serah placed her lips against her own. Soft and succulent, so completely different than kissing a man. But this wasn’t right; this was her friend, her best friend. She is a woman, I don’t have feelings for her, do I? It’s just the booze. Isn’t it? She pulled back.

“Shit, Dana, I’m sorry.”

“I... I... can’t do this.”

“Dana!”

But she didn't listen to the rest of what Serah was saying, she picked up her shoes and went back inside.

Why is today going so wrong? First, it was Mulder, now it is Serah. Fuck this shit! I need a shot or two.

With many more shots consumed it was the early hours of the morning, around 3 o’clock, with what she could work out. Many of the party goes had passed out drunk or gone home. She wanted to go to her room but she didn’t want to see Serah. She started walking not knowing her destination.

This was all Mulder’s fault. She would have never got angry, got drunk, kissed Serah, fell out with her best friend, drank more, got hit on a couple more men...

She pulled out her mobile and started going through her contacts searching for professor Mulder’s name in her phone book. It’s a bad idea but I don’t care. I need to tell him how I feel. She punched dial and put the phone up to her ear listening to the ringing and eventually Mulder’s voice at the other end of the line.

"Hello."

"Prrrofessssoorr Mulderr," she noticed her Ss and Rs rolling, she couldn't help it.

"Scully?"

"No, it'sss your sssex ssslave." She tried to sound seductive but it wasn't working.

"Scully?"

"It'sss all your fault, Mulderrr."  She pouted, as if he could see her. She felt her legs starting to get sore, maybe even already sore. She wasn't really sure anymore. She sat down on the floor, cold and bumpy "If I didn't have feelingsss for you, thisss would neverrr have happened, and I would be getting laid rrright now"

"Scully are you drunk? Are you ok? Where are you?" He sounded aggravated now. Good, now we're getting somewhere.

"Ssshut up Mulderrr, was Diana good company? Or yet, even better, was your hand?" She let out giggle she couldn't help it.

"Scully where are you?" He still sounded angry.

"I'm sitting down, where are you?" She noticed herself starting to sober a little.

"I'm at home. Now, Dana where are you?" Now there was confusion in his voice.

"I'm on Frat Street at the end. I think."

"Stay there, I'm coming to get you."

She didn't even get a reply as she heard the dial tone.

//

Mulder hung up the phone and drove 5-10 minutes to find Scully standing up, holding her heels in one hand, with a frat boy hunting off her hip.

What was she thinking? Getting drunk flaunting herself. Damn it if I will let her get herself into any trouble. He sat for a couple of seconds as the man’s hand went up her dress and lent in to kiss her. She pulled away but he pulled her back.

He stepped out of the car. Making his presence known by fake coughing. Now he was closer he could tell it was a Med student he knew, as Daniel Waterston.

"Miss Scully, are you ok?" he said sternly.

"No, Professor Mulder, but Daniel was just leaving..." her voice wavered.

"Yes, I was just leaving..." and he snuck back into the shadows like a mole burning its way to the earth.

"Dana," he walked up to her.

"I think I'm gonna—"

And she fell and he caught her. He moved her into a better position. She barely weighed anything in his arms. He placed her laying across the back seat of his car making sure she was safe and secure before moving back to the pavement picking up her shoes and placing them in the passenger side of the car next to him. He sat in the driver’s side contemplating where to take her. He soon made the decision and drove her to his apartment.

******************************

Quick note;

 there is a scene in this chapter where Scully and Serah could get it on. Would you like to see this as an alternate scene? or maybe even a future chapter? or not at all? please let me know in the comments. I will also be posting a poll on twitter.

Thank you for Reading I appreciate your feedback good or bad.

[snarkandsarcasmftw]

4, 8, and 11 for the ask thing for the 3 Thanksgiving Parade fics you did!

OMG IM SO SORRY IM JUST ANSWERING THIS. I’VE BEEN HANGING WITH FAM.

Thanksgiving Parade:

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

“Mobile.” 

Mox smirked a little. Somehow he’d known she’d say Alabama or Mississippi, just going off that sweet little accent she had. “Sweet. Never been there. Or maybe I have, just can’t fuckin remember because I was drunk the whole time.” - because honestly, I feel like that’s a very Mox thing to say. 

8:Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

HAHA I WISH. No, but several movies with this plot did. Now my OC here was heavily based on me to an extent, but yeah.. we just won’t talk about that. 

11: What do you like best about this fic?

I loved the whole awkward crush / feeling each other out thing it gave off. It was cute, not gonna lie. 

The Adult Table:

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

“I… oops..” her hand raised to her mouth and Mox chuckled, leaning in to mumble coy against her mouth, “Now don’t go all shy on me again, kitten… you know exactly what ya just did.” as he initiated the kiss again, teeth tugging at her lips, kissing her with just enough force that he felt her lips starting to swell under impact.  - because honestly, I loved writing that scene where she makes a snap decision to go for what she wants and for once, Mox is fairly taken by surprised. That line was also another thing I truly felt like Mox would say.

8:Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

Nope. Like I said, the OC here is heavily based on me to an extent, but like... beyond this, nooope.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

I love how quickly it escalated, because sometimes, it be like that.

Stuffed Like A Turkey: 

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

“We’re gonna have to keep it down…”

“I mean, ya can try, kitten.” Mox gave a mild smirk as Starla started to lead him out of the room and towards the stairs. The hallway was empty and Mox pressed her against the wall, hand cupping her jaw as he bucked into her and leaned down, crashing his mouth against hers. “See, here’s the thing.. I know ya said we gotta be quiet.. But when I’m done with you? Ya not gonna be able.”

“Oh really?” Starla eyed him, biting her lip, a teasing grin on her face. “You think so, hmm?”

“Kitten.. Hate to break it to ya, but I kinda know so.” - again, I felt like I was in the zone when it came to writing Mox here. Even if I also feel like it sucked and I made it way too soft, I loved the dialogue aspect most. 

8:Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

Noooope. Just my own wildest fantasy to get rawed in my childhood bedroom by Mox, oops rip >.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

For once I didn’t feel like my smut was the worst smut on this blue hellsite. Which is normally how i feel, every single time I post smut. Kind of why I haven’t wrote it  / shared it much til lately. 

[bringmetolife-pwff]

Part One : Chapter Twenty-One - She’s a heartbreaker

It was their fifth day in Zimbabwe and they had less than week left.  Evelyn was loving it here so far and wanted to explore everything.  So far, Chelsy had taken her to all of her favourite places.  Tonight though they were having a family and friends party at the Mangwanani restaurant which Dakarai owned.  

It was a beautiful restaurant with rich dark mahogany wood and they had an open area with vibrant green grass and a patio as well as fairy lights that were turned on during the night to give a cosy feeling.  It overlooked the beautiful ocean which Evelyn and Chelsy already swam and surfed in.  They saw sea turtles and took a boat tour out to see the dolphins.  She was able to snorkel with the sea turtles and thought it was the best holiday she had been on in a while.  Evelyn had also brought her under water camera along as well and was glad she had to document the trip.  

She was able to take a picture of a sea turtle that swam right up to her and she couldn't wait to get it printed and hang up in her apartment.  

Evelyn hadn't properly spoken to William since she landed in Zimbabwe as he wanted her to fully enjoy her holiday.  As she was applying her blusher to her cheeks for some colour - Chelsy popped her head in the bathroom.  

"Hey, you almost ready?"

"Yeah, just need to finish the other cheek then all set."

"Perfect," she squealed.

Evelyn was wearing a white flowing dress that had spaghetti straps.  It was from one her favourite brands from needle and thread and she paired it with some flip flops and her blonde hair was in loose waves.  Chelsy was dressed in something similar wearing all white as well but instead chose to wear a white tank top and a flowing white skirt and put her blonde hair in a loose bun and wore bracelets on her wrist.  

"Okay all done," Evelyn announced as she walked out and met with Chelsy.

The two girls linked arms as they walked out and met Chelsy's family in the car.  Evelyn was loving Zimbabwe so far and couldn't believe that their holiday was coming to an end.  Evelyn let the cool Zimbabwean air flitter across her face as she looked out at the beautiful scenery.

Little kids were running around, chasing the other as Evelyn and Chelsy were laughing and chatting with Dakarai and his wife Aaliyah.  Their two children, two girls, Daliah and Imani.  Chelsy's family were talking to their friends as well.  Daliah was eleven and Imani - twelve.  Chelsy's brother unfortunately wasn't able to be here for when the girls were but Chelsy hoped that next time he could meet Eve.  

The clinking of the wine glass got everyone's attention as they stopped speaking and focused their attention on Dakarai as his wife stood next to him.

"I just wanted to thank everyone for coming out tonight and meeting our dear friend, Evelyn Bennett.  It truly has been a pleasure spending time with you and any friend of Chelsy's is a friend of ours.  You are always welcome here.  As we say in our shona language: kusvikira tichisangana zvakare which means until we meet again," Evelyn put her hand to her heart touched by the kindness that Dakarai, Chelsy's family and everyone she had met had shown her.  Cheers everyone and enjoy the rest of the night," he finished his speech as he and the rest of the party drank their champagne.

*

"You should go," Harry told Evelyn over the mobile.  

He had known how close the two blondes were and he hated how things were ended between Harry and Chelsy.  Knowing that Evelyn felt as though she were playing tug-of-war with herself on who to choose, he would never forgive himself if she distanced herself from Chelsy.

"Harry-"

"Listen to me, all right?"

She stayed silent as she listened to him talk.

"I know how close you two were and I hate to think that you can't hang out with her anymore because of me.  I'll be all right, promise.  You don't have to worry about me.  I hate that you feel like you have to choose because you don't.  I know that you are still a good friend to me and now I'm being a good friend to you.  Go."

"Thanks Harry, I appreciate it.  Truly."

"Yeah, yeah.  Just do me a favour and tell her how great I'm doing since she broke up with me, yeah?"

Evelyn let out a laugh as a happy tear trailed down her cheek and she wiped it away.  

"Of course.  Couldn't let her know anything else.  You'll be fine, Harry.  Just fine."

"Thanks, Eve."

"Of course.  I'm always here for you, Haz."

After they ended their phone call, Eve let out a sigh.  Not long after they got back from their holiday, Chelsy unfortunately broke up with Harry.  This time for good.  Evelyn should have seen it coming but it threw her out of left field still.  When Chelsy had asked Evelyn when she and Wills were going to come out as a couple she had seen the worry and concern in her.  

It was November twenty-eight and a bit chilly.  Evelyn decided to wear black stockings along with a red suede skirt and a long sleeve black blouse.  She paired her outfit with some black booties and wore her blonde hair straight adding a bit more makeup to her complexion.  Eve finished off the look with spritzing on her favourite perfume.  Evelyn grabbed her parcel for Chelsy and left to go to the club.

*

The music was blaring and Chelsy was downing shots wanting to get wasted for her birthday.  

"Eve," Chelsy shouted at her friend as soon as she saw her and drunkenly walked to her throwing her arms around her neck.  "I'm so glad you made it."

Evelyn could already smell the alcohol on her breath but was excited to drink as it had been a crazy week at work.  

"Happy Birthday, Chels," Eve told her happily handing her the parcel she bought.

"Aw, thank you.  Come on.  Come meet the rest of my friends," Chelsy took Eve's hand and guided her to their table.  

"Guys, this is my good friend Evelyn.  Evelyn, this is Natalie and my good friend Gemma.  Lastly, my good friend, Noah."

"Nice to meet you all," they exchanged pleasantries and order Evelyn a drink which she happily takes.  

Everyone was downing shots as the club music was playing, Evelyn was dancing in her seat.  She loved to dance and let loose.  Chelsy grabbed Evelyn's hand and guided her to the dance floor as they danced and laughed.

After they became tired of it, they moved over to their seats and let out a breath.  

"I'm gonna go make a call I'll be back," Eve yells at Chelsy over the loud music.

Chelsy nodded her head and then went back to the dance floor as Eve made her way over to a quieter area although she was sure that during the phone call the loud dancing music could still be heard.  Of course, his mobile went straight to voice mail.  She had expected it as he was back at military training and they weren't allowed to properly have them.  Still, nonetheless, she left a voicemail anyway.

"Wills?" she shouted into the mobile.  "I know you won't hear this until you get back.  But," she sucked in a breath letting it out, pouting slightly.  "I miss you loads.  I haven't seen you in weeks and I miss being around you.  I wish you were here," she begins to cry due to being drunk.  "Lots has happened since you've been gone.  Did you know that Chelsy broke up with Harry?  I don't want us to break up.  Only two more months until I get to see you again, talk soon!"

It was a wild birthday, but everyone had loads of fun.  Evelyn stumbled in a cab as she didn't want to drive drunk.  She made it to her home and unlocked her door, feeling hungry and thirsty so she decided to make some dinner.  Looking through her cabinet, she got out some shell pasta and heated up her stove on the oven.  Eve waited for the water to boil a bit before pouring them in and then she also put some pesto sauce on.  This was one of her favourite dishes also to make as it was so simple but good.  Whilst she was making dinner, she was also drinking loads of water and took some pain medicine for the headache she knew would come in the morning.  

--

sorry for the shortish chapter, but i wanted to get something up.  thoughts?

 happy thanksgiving everyone!  please follow my wattpad account if you want faster updates: herbologyx- 

[ligiaonwlz]

My good friend Connie received this letter from someone who uses personal care assistance in her everyday life, without it there is no way of her to live. This is an example of what people with disabilities have to deal with not only during this pandemic, but everyday. Please read the letter and if any of you know someone or you yourselves can help, please let me know.

"Dear Connie,

I am sending this email to you because I don't know what to do and need help.

I am a severely disabled woman who lives in Richmond, California. I receive Supportive Living Services from the Regional Center of the East Bay, and I am self vendorized. I don't use an agency. I also receive 283 hours of IHSS hours a month.

I found out this evening on December 2nd that one of my attendants that receives Regional Center funding has tested positive for covid-19. This attendant works quite a number of hours and is a backup attendant for the rest of my staff.

What am I supposed to do with my backup attendant unable to work? I last saw this attendant on Tuesday, November 23, 2020. But I haven't been feeling well since the day after Thanksgiving. I need to get tested. But I'm scared to go to a testing site because if I'm not sick with covid-19, I don't wish to get the virus by hanging out at a testing site. I wanted to go through a drive-thru testing site. But I was told that paratransit vans were not allowed to go through a drive-through site. When I was severely ill in March, I was even told that I should go to a drive-through site in an attendant's car. I can't do that! I'm severely disabled and use a power chair for daily mobility.

As I mentioned, in March of this year, I was very sick. All of my attendants were sick, and hence I became extremely ill. A doctor told me to self-isolate. Due to the severity of my disability, this was extremely difficult. I can't go through the same difficulty again. It is not realistic when someone who has a significant disability and needs daily help for the recipient and their multiple attendants to all social distance.

In March, the Contra Costa Board of Health had telephone meetings regarding the pandemic. Several other folks and I asked how to keep themselves and their clients/ attendants safe. All we were told from the Contra Costa Board of Health was to try your best. The state has to have a better answer than try your best! The county Public Authority did not give me or any of my attendants any PPE. So my staff and I were left to our own devices.

I reached out to my Regional Center caseworker and was not given PPE until approximately June of this year. I'm now running low on PPE - my attendants and I have taken to reusing gloves and masks because my attendants and I can't find anymore, and I cannot afford to pay if I could find any.

One of my other attendants is 71 years old. She gets tested frequently for covid-19. I have been looking to replace her for over 6 months. I turned to the Public Authority of Contra Costa County to find a suitable replacement.

Public authorities are a joke. I have never liked the Public Authority system. It's a bureaucratic waste of money. I can never get attendants from the Public Authority because they don't adequately maintain appropriate lists, and the attendants are subpar.

When I try to place my own ads for attendants, no one wants to answer my ads because the pay is so low, and they can find easier jobs elsewhere without all of the bureaucratic hoops of our dysfunctional IHSS provider referral system. This is especially true with the living wages in each city rising. With poor wages comes poor quality workers. This leaves me and other recipients with the very real possibility of getting hurt and getting physically abused because of the lack of an abundant care provider workforce. Throwing more money at the problem of these agencies like the IHSS Public Authorities won't make it any better because it is just like taking money and throwing it down the toilet. Instead, the state has to fix the systemic problems within the Public Authorities system or (preferably) get rid of the system entirely and create something new. I vote to create something new.

I thought about reaching out to Adult Protective Services, but I reached out to them nearly 15 years ago, and my experience was so bad that I never want to deal with that agency again.

When I was sick in March, my Regional Regional Center caseworker suggested that I go to the hospital and ask them to admit me. I was very severely ill and was not able to get a covid test because of disability-related access reasons as I mentioned before, I was afraid to get covid in the hospital. I really need to find a way to currently get covid tested and find attendants for my open attendant shifts.

I started this letter with a question. What am I supposed to do when a main attendant of mine has Covid-19?. How will the state help me in my time of need?

Or, does the state care so little about severely disabled individuals that people like myself are left to fend for ourselves? Are our lives so disposable that we don't matter??? Who is going to help me, and where do I turn for non-existent help now?

I have become seriously depressed and emotionally drained by the situation. I feel like I have nowhere to turn and that the state of California does not care about my health and safety. At this point, I don't even believe the state cares if I lived or died due to Covid 19. The state of California is not looking at me as a person of value with a life to lead. But rather, I am a cog in the state system, and if I died, the state would actually save money. I would no longer be a financial burden to the state. Maybe this is why the state has not bothered to fix the systemic problems affecting those with severe disabilities. At the state's bureaucratic core, we are an unsung population that no one really cares about.

My current open attendant shifts are the following: Tuesday and Thursday nights. from 6pm -9pm.

The caregiver duties are:

*meal prep

*cooking dinner

*cleaning after the meal

*general house cleaning,

*undressing and dressing for bed

* putting me in bed"

[hollamd]

Letters (Part 2 of Voicemails) - Peter Parker

Previous

Summary: After Peter leaves his voicemails to a missing Y/N, her phone gets shut off. In the following months he writes his feelings to her and slowly heals.

Warnings: Kinda sad, swearing

Word Count: 1469

A/N: Hi guys! Sorry this is really messy, I’m posting from mobile. If I post on my desktop, the post won’t show up in the tags. This took awhile to write and I feel like I put a lot of emotion in to it! I really hope you like it and I’m sorry if it makes you sad. I have some happy fics planned, and you can always request! Please comment your feedback, it really helps! :) 

January 15th

Dear Y/N Y/L/N, It’s been three and half months without you. I stopped calling because your parents shut down your phone. I gotta tell you, the first time I called and got the message your phone wasn’t in service… My heart sank. If it were up to me, I would’ve kept your phone on for the rest of my life, even if it’s just to hear you say the same exact words every time.

We buried an empty casket after the second month of your disappearance. Everyone was there Y/N, all for you. Your parents, Aunt May, Ned, Michelle… Even Flash. In fact, I even think he cried. I know that would’ve made you laugh… God, I swear I can still hear your laugh sometimes. It was a beautiful service, you would’ve been happy with it, even though you’re really picky. Everyone cried that day, even the sky.

School went by pretty quickly, but sometimes I’d still walk by your locker and think of you. It sucks without you, you know. I’ve kept my grades up, and people talk to me more, but I think it’s just out of pity. The Spider-Man thing has been going really well. Once I get out of school, I go into the city, and save people. It’s all I do, really. It’s a constant distraction from the you-shaped hole in my heart. Aunt May is starting to notice how exhausted I am, but I don’t think she wants to say anything… People have been kinda treating me as if I’m some fragile object, as if I’ll break any second. But, the truth is I broke the moment I knew I wouldn’t see you anytime soon.

Speaking of Spider-Man, Mr. Stark’s really been there for me after this whole thing. He even tried looking for you Y/N, even though it’d been a month and a half at that point. He also offered me a spot on the Avengers. I said no, and I know you’d be really mad but I also know you’d understand.One day, I’ll be ready, but right now, I’m just a heartbroken kid in high school.

Once it started getting cold again, I actually missed you constantly asking for my sweater. I missed the tea you’d always make for me after a long night of spidering, and see your nose turn pink from the cold. Anyway, Thanksgiving came, but you didn’t miss out on anything. There wasn’t even anything to be thankful for, not without you. Christmas came, and I got you a present. You know those earrings we always saw on the walk home from school, and you’d constantly drool over them? Well I saved enough money to finally get them. I had to sell a few things, and I know you’ll be mad at me, but I really couldn’t help myself. Sorry.

I find myself watching Beauty and the Beast whenever I think of you. It’s your movie, it always reminds me of you, and I swear I can feel you right beside me.

I know it’s been awhile without you, but I’m not even close to over you. I’m probably being over-dramatic, but we were so in love… It hurts to fucking think of you Y/N, but I’m always thinking of you. I’m starting to learn how to live without you now, and it’s the worst thing.

I miss everything. I miss our movie nights. I miss the way we’d talk about our future together. I miss the way you’d patch me up after a rough night of spidering. I miss our late night phone calls. I miss the way we would do our homework together, and the fact that you were always so good at English. I miss the way your eyes would light up. I miss going over to your house and cuddling with you. I miss our trips to the deli after school. I miss your smile. I miss your kisses. I miss your hugs. I miss your smell. I miss your voice, your laughter, your jokes, your singing, your smiles… I miss how you made me feel. I fucking miss you. So much.

I love you, Peter.

March 29th

Dear Y/N Y/L/N,

You were alive two days ago. Up until March 27th, 2017, you were breathing. It’s my fault. I should’ve never stopped looking, I know I’d be able to find you. You were alive…I’m so sorry. I don’t why I’m writing anymore, or who I’m writing them to, but maybe you’ll somehow get my letters from heaven.

They said when you were found, you just looked like you were sleeping. You were wearing different clothes from the last time I saw you apparently. I don’t wanna know how you died, I don’t wanna get the image of you in pain in my head. You were wearing the necklace I got you last year, the one with my initial on it. I didn’t look at the autopsy report or any pictures. I couldn’t.

I want to hurt the person who hurt you. I don’t know how anyone could ever do something to you, you’re the sweetest and most caring person I know. Or…. knew….

I’m writing this at 4 A.M., because I can’t sleep. I never get much sleep now, but tonight I don’t think I’ll get any. I keep thinking… I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, but I didn’t. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, and you did.

I’ve already told you how I feel so many times, and I feel so much more, but I don’t have the words to say it. I’ve told you I’ve loved you so many times, and a simple “I love you” is just scratching the surface of the what I really feel. Knowing you’re actually gone now, I’ll never be able to get over you. I once thought knowing what happened to you would finally let me close the book on you, and move on with my life. If anything, it’s only started a new chapter.

Sometimes I wonder what you would say to me if you saw me now. You’d be mad at me for sulking over you so much, but then you’d also find it sweet. You’d probably say something like “Jesus, Pete, I’ve been dead for five months, go out and live your life.” I know you like the back of my hand, and I’m sure you know me like that, too.

I don’t know if there’s anything else to say, except that I love you.

Love, Peter — May 11th

Y/N Y/L/N,

I never believed in soulmates or true love until I started dating you. You brought a new light to my world…I’ll move on one day, and hopefully get married, but you always be my true love. Maybe one day, we’ll meet in the heavens and we’ll get to do all those things we always talked about, because true love stories never have endings.

Sometimes I wish I’d never fallen in love with you, because maybe then it wouldn’t be this hard for me to let you go. But then I remember our time spent together. All of the smiles, the laughs, the tears, the kisses, the love… It was all worth the pain of losing you. Losing you, was losing my world. I’ve dealt with loss before, I lost my uncle Ben. That was different, though; I had you. You held me and told me everything would be okay, because we had each other. But I don’t have you, and you’re gone.

I look back at your life and I like to think you somehow got your happy ending. Maybe a happy ending for me is picking up everything I have of you, and moving on. It doesn’t mean I’m going to forget you, or erase you… God I could never do that… But it means starting over. Your actual funeral, with your body, was held a few weeks ago. Not a lot of people were there, your parents wanted it to be small. We already said goodbye to you once, and that was hard enough.

This is my goodbye to you, Y/N. I know you’re always watching me from above and yelling at me to move on, because that’s what you’d want. I’ll be the best hero I can be, and I’ll be the best man I can be without you. We might’ve only been together for two and a half years, and maybe I’m being a baby in writing all these sappy, depressing letters… But I think it’s because I love you more than the world.

Even when I’m with another girl, I’ll always be yours.

I’ll always love you,

Peter.

Masterlist

[iwantthedean]

Take It All Back

Part Fourteen

Summary: The family welcomes a new member, and Jensen has another surprise for Journey.  Pairing: Jensen x OFC (Journey) Word Count: 1760 Warnings: None. 

Masterlist

Sitting with his elbows on his desk and his clasped hands in front of his mouth, Jensen stared at the framed picture that sat next to his computer monitor. It was a recent picture, one from the session he and Journey had taken after he got out of the hospital, sometime between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Jensen had one hand on either side of her baby belly, but they were looking at each and laughing over something; the candid moment made him smile every time he thought about it.

It had taken some time for Jensen to accept that in an alternate reality, he likely would have betrayed Journey. For weeks, he picked up research again on ways he could possibly reverse this weird thing that had happened and go back to his old life. Every time he kissed Journey, every time he looked into her eyes, he couldn’t help but feel guiltier.

In that moment captured in the picture, however, he looked into Journey’s eyes and heard her laugh and felt nothing but the same old comfort and calm that her laugh had brought him in lifetimes before. Now the only times he felt that guilt was when he crossed paths with Christina; still far too often, since they worked together.

He was sitting at the dinner table with Journey just after the New Year, when he brought up the subject of possibly not going back to the Cowboys.

Journey frowned. “What would you do? I mean, if you went to another team, would we have to move?”

Jensen nodded. “Possibly. I don’t want us to move away from family, but I want us to be able to move on, entirely. Every time – every time that woman shows up at a meeting or walks into my office, I think about everything I’ve done to you, Journ.”

“Jay, you don’t have to do this for me,” Journey said, reaching out to touch his arm. “I’ve moved on. We’re happy, and I trust you. You don’t need to worry about Christina.”

“It’s not Christina I’m worried about. It’s not me either, I won’t do that to you again. It just feels like everything we’re trying to move on from is there.”

Journey sat back, rubbing her belly. “I don’t want to move away from our family. I like being pregnant with Jovi, even if she is about to pop at any moment, and I like that our little girl and her little girl will get to grow up together. I like that we can be close to your family and mine. I like that we can get them all together for things like announcing that I’m pregnant or having everyone together for my baby shower next week. I don’t want you to quit your job.”

“Hey,” Jensen said softly, pushing back in his chair and pulling his pregnant wife into his lap. “I’m sorry, okay? I just want the happy life that I always pictured for us. I don’t want you to have to worry.”

Journey kissed him and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I don’t worry, not anymore.”

“Okay. How about this? I’ll look for another job, in the area, and I won’t quit this one until I have a new job. The season is wrapping up, I’ll have more time to spend with you and to help you prepare for the baby – and I can’t wait for the baby shower, by the way.”

Journey laughed, going back to her own chair and her supper plate. “The shower is girls only, Jay. I hate to disappoint you. I think Josh and Halen are organizing a golfing outing for you and them and Nick.”

Jensen looked at her smile and once again, everything was all right in his world.

 Journey woke up in the middle of the night, her phone buzzing incessantly next to the bed. She groaned as she reached out for it, vaguely aware that her mother’s number was scrolling across the screen.

“Mom?”

“Journey,” Natalie said quickly, “your sister’s in labor. Blake is with Nick’s parents, and your dad and I are heading to the hospital.”

“We’ll meet you there.”

She set her phone to the side and scrambled out of bed, calling Jensen’s name in the process to wake him up. She flipped on the lights and pulled clothes out of her dresser, fumbling to dress herself to be seen in public.

“What’s wrong?” Jensen said, also getting dressed and having no idea why.

“Oh, sorry,” Journey said, finally slowing down. “Mom called. Jovi’s in labor.”

Jensen grinned and finished dressing himself. Once they were in his truck and headed to the hospital, and fully awake, Journey took his hand.

“Not too much longer, and this’ll be you taking me to the hospital.”

Jensen squeezed her hand. “I can’t wait, babe. She’s going to be so perfect – just like her mother.”

Journey leaned over the seat to kiss his cheek, then checked her phone. “Whoa, Jov’s already halfway there. That crazy sister of mine held off at home for a long time!”

She took a phone call from her mother then, about her sister’s progress. When the call was over, she squeezed Jensen’s hand again, excited to meet her new niece in the next few hours.

 Jovi was in labor well into the next afternoon, and then there was the hours of pushing on top of that. Journey made a quick trip to the elementary school to make sure the sub was doing okay with her students, and was pleased to see that Valerie was covering her for the day.

“I only see your kids today anyway,” Valerie shrugged. “Figured I might as well give them someone familiar to work with.”

“Thank you,” Journey sighed, her shoulders sagging with relief. “They’re being good?”

Valerie nodded. “Yeah, they’re great.”

“Except?” Journey said, raising her brow.

“Abby,” Valerie finally said, pointing to the girl. “Her parents came to get her for her appointment today, and she refused to go.”

“Right, they were going to turn her implants on today. They didn’t take her?”

“She was screaming and throwing a fit. They re-scheduled until – until you could talk to her.”

Journey took a deep breath and blew it out. “Okay. I need to get back to Jovi, but when I come back, I will talk with her. Tell them I will talk with her.”

Valerie nodded and hugged her friend. “You go. I’ve got the kids, and they’ll be fine. Still having your shower on Saturday?”

Journey smiled. “Yeah, Saturday. I’ll see you there.”

With that final thought, she left her students in Valerie’s capable hands.

 “You’re just in time, Aunt Journey,” Jovi smiled, handing a pink bundle over to Journey’s arms. Journey took the baby and sat down, balancing the fragile child in her arms and close to her belly. The little girl in her tummy kicked.

“That’s your cousin,” Journey smiled at the newborn. “She’s excited to meet you, I think. Just a couple more months. And you know what? You two are going to be best friends, just like me and your mommy are best friends.”

“But Uncle Jay is going to be your favorite,” Jensen grinned, stepping in to take the baby from Journey. He cuddled her close to his chest and breathed in her sweet, clean-baby scent. “So, does she have a name or what?”

Nick smiled, squeezing Jovi’s hand. “Well, we decided to stick with the musical names. Her name is Nirvana.”

Journey and Jensen exchanged a glance. “Oh, well, that’s – it’s, uh, nice.”

Nick and Jovi exploded into laughter. Jovi promised the baby’s name was not Nirvana. “Her name is Easton Marie.”

“Easton,” Jensen smiled. “Well, that knocks one off our list.”

“Enough about our girl,” Journey chided. “Today is about Jovi and Easton.”

Jensen smiled and agreed with his wife. They marveled over the newest member of the family and silently kept their anticipation over their coming baby to themselves.

 On Saturday, Jovi was a couple days out from the hospital and not feeling too much worse for the wear. With a lot of help from Natalie, she brought the baby and refused to miss her sister’s first baby shower.

Journey couldn’t have been more grateful. Her friends and family were all there, her husband had canceled the golf outing to cook out in the backyard, so that Nick could be close for Jovi, Blake, and Easton.

The women all laughed together through the games, and cooed over the tiny little things that Journey pulled out of gift bags and unwrapped from ribbon-clad packages. Once the cake was eaten, the guests started filtering out. The family stayed behind for burgers and hot dogs, helped clean up, then got Jovi and the baby safely tucked into the car with Nick and Blake.

Jensen gathered up the clothes and toys while Journey finished packing up the leftovers. When all was said and done, she was ready for a nap before getting supper together. She called for her husband, who met her at the top of the stairs.

“Hey,” he said before kissing her softly. “I want to show you something.”

Smiling, Journey took Jensen’s hand and followed him to the bedroom next to theirs. The intention had always been to make the empty room into a nursery, but save for a patch of yellow paint on one wall, and after the miscarriage, the door had more or less stayed closed. Journey knew they were coming down to the wire, but setting foot in that room wasn’t something she could bring herself to do just yet.

But then Jensen opened the door, and all she could think about was how perfect the nursery looked. Instead of the yellow they had agreed on during her first pregnancy, the walls were painted a soft, rose pink. The furniture was painted a crisp white, except for a rocking chair of dark wood placed opposite from the crib. A mobile of pink fabric roses was hanging over the crib, and the crib set was a simple floral motif.

“That big open space over the crib is for her name, when we decide,” Jensen said, wrapping his arms around Journey from behind, and rubbing his hands over her belly. “Do you like it?”

Journey turned his arms, going up on tiptoe to kiss him. “I love it. And I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Jensen replied before kissing her softly. He decided then and there that whether it was real or not, this was his favorite moment of life.

[relucant]

cut for personal ramblings/sorting out thoughts i can’t put on facebook/potential travel/family bullshit

so, over thanksgiving, we somehow decided to take a family trip to europe in like may (we being my mother and father, brother and sister-in-law), which like, there was definitely some drinks involved in both hatching the idea between my mom and me a couple weeks ago and the discussing of it between everyone, but even in the post-thanksgiving sober(ish) light of day, everyone still seems on board. my brother will be done with med school in april and won’t start residency until july and my SIL’s current traveling nurse contract ends around then, plus they never had a honeymoon, and my mom just desperately wants to see paris again and visit bruges and is so desperately afraid she’s going to be too disabled to do so before, and my father for once voiced an opinion that he’d like to see budapest (for the odd reason that “it’s really two cities, like minneapolis and saint paul where i grew up!” but whatever). and me having been everywhere (she says pretentiously) i’m down for whatever and can offer some baseline advice about the wheres and the hows - plus would be a great way for me to get a free flight to europe (”welp, it’s your inheritance,” my parents said with a shrug) and then wave goodbye and bounce off back to bulgaria or whatever.

so it’s an amazing idea, but also probably equally a terrible idea, because like... as a family, we do not get along. my parents can barely stand to exist in the same house together. my mom is paralytic with anxiety about everything always and constantly does and says things that make no sense in any world but hers, then my dad loses his nonexistent patience and is a complete screaming asshole to her, like, twelve times a day, then i lose my usually fairly even temper and scream at him, then my brother lays down his self-righteous condescending “calm down and listen to me because i’m right about everything” and we all get mad at him. my sister-in-law, thank fucking christ, is genuinely one of the greatest people i know and we all adore her, and her presence alone helps mitigate the general family nastiness that we all create, myself definitely included, but i don’t know if it’s enough for us not to end up, as we have often before, sitting there pissed off at each other and wondering why we did this (only very expensively).

my mom and i travel well surprisingly well together - we went to montreal and boston last year, and new york city this spring; she’s fine with staying in a wheelchair instead of struggling to get around (she’s fundamentally healthy, just has major mobility issues), and the fact that i am a super laid-back traveler and like whatever happens we’ll be fine kind of mentality (by much practice) helps keep her out of panic mode. and my brother and sister-in-law had a great time in nyc last month, and seem to have a fairly natural balance of having fun together but also able to go do our own shit for a bit if needed.

but my dad is just such an asshole, for no discernible reason, like, he literally screams at my mother if she, like, opens the glove compartment while he’s driving, and shushes her if she gives a slightly longer answer to a question than he preferred. he’s not quite as nasty to me, probably in part because unlike her, he does like me, and resents my existence slightly less, and probably in part because i will tell him to shut the fuck up when his assholery reaches past my tolerance. and he’s definitely getting dementia, which doesn’t help his already shitty demeanor towards his family (because he’s perfectly pleasant to literally every other person on the planet except his family). the more people there are around, the more he keeps his abuse to my mom in check, but i am always at about a 9 on the rage scale about him and the general dynamics. (which, shockingly, doesn’t help the mood)

so like. pretty torn about whether this is a thing that should happen.

[randomthingsthatilike1]

Okay, but Eliza neglected Alex. Did she mean to? No. Was she trying to hurt her? No. Is that still child abuse? God yes. Alex could never be good enough, could never do anything right. Alex flat out said that Eliza blamed her for Kara not dating enough. What kind of bullshit is that?? I'm not saying that Eliza is a bad person, but she put way too much on Alex's shoulders at way too young an age. She neglected her and emotionally abused her, whether or not she meant to.

wait i dont even remember, when did eliza say something to alex about kara dating? and like. for all intents and purposes, kara was v much a special needs child and eliza is a single parent, and alex is her older sister--and i think this post describes it p well. This isn’t katherine grant, who’s just straight out mean to cat and won’t even give her a hug. this is a woman dealing with a kid who, if not handled correctly, could very easily kill them if she loses control of her powers--and we all know how cruel children and teenagers can be. Eliza can’t be everywhere, and she’s doing it all on her own--so yeah, she over relies on Alex because it’s not even just ‘your sister needs you to function’ it’s ‘your sister needs you to make sure she doesnt accidentally kill anyone.’ There’s been a lot of talk about kara having SPD, if u want it i can try and dig it up--that was from last season.

and i’m not a sibling to someone with special needs, i can’t talk about that experience but i’ve definitely heard stories from people i know about being given a lot more responsibilities and dedicating a lot more of their time to helping their siblings than maybe joining that extracurricular or going abroad or going to a school even 10 minutes further away

and yeah, eliza talks about being less harsh on kara, because really kara just lost everyone, and then was dumped on the danvers really by her only remaining relative. eliza says it like she’s a girl from another planet who just lost everything--who can also very easily leave and never come back if she wanted, or felt like she was trapped.

and instantly when finding out that this is how alex feels she apologizes, adjusting her behavior once she found out how alex was feeling, and we see that not just in the thanksgiving episode but when alex and j’onn visit midvale and in the next thanksgiving episode. and alex not doing anything right part--alex could do something right. eliza told winn how proud she was of alex for working in the same field as her

and also like. we all know just how much alex bottles up her feelings. the fact that eliza doesnt question alex’s feelings or make her second guess anything and yes changes both her behavior towards both alex and kara makes me think that this is a pretty new conversation topic, at least since jeremiah died. because anyone who’s an older sibling will say, it’s an adjustment to having a younger sibling, especially one who’s an alien refugee. And Clark literally just dropped kara off on their doorstep, it’s not like they had much time to prepare.

that’s not saying eliza didn’t make mistakes. but one child needed help with everything and eliza was just one person, and also grieving for her husband and constantly looking over her shoulder to see when the next person in a suit would show up, because the only reason why they left kara alone was because jeremiah was working for them--and he’s not anymore. this isn’t a simple case of ‘oh i have 2 children and one of them i like better’

also there has been some research into what siblings of children with special needs experience that are almost universal, and a documentary filmmaker named Rachel Feighter interviewed a bunch of siblings in a documentary “Not Typical” some common experiences she found were

“Feeling like they need to be perfect. Siblings of individuals with special needs know how hard their parents work to ensure all of their sibling’s needs are met, and often see their parents struggle to meet these needs. Many feel like they can’t make mistakes because that would add to their parents’ burden, so they believe they must be perfect at all times. This is an impossible standard to meet, and can lead to stress and feelings of inadequacy. One girl said she felt like she “had to be Ms. Perfect and not have any problems for [her] parents to deal with.” Another said that she felt as though she could never be “enough.”

Feeling like they can’t express their feelings. Most typically developing children love their sibling with special needs. Yet they may also resent how much of their parents’ time is taken up by caring for their sibling or feel embarrassed about their sibling’s behavior. One girl said she “was never allowed to mourn openly or to be mad or sad about [her] brother” and another said her friends thought she was being mean if she said anything bad about her sister, even though friends with typically developing siblings often complain.

Having a different idea of family and home. For most children the concept of family is based in togetherness. But when a sibling has special needs, family quality time may look different. One girl recalled that her mother was “assigned” to her sister with special needs and her father was “assigned” to her. The family often spent time apart, especially when it involved leaving the house.

Feeling as though their problems are minimized. Sometimes a sibling with special needs has complex and even life-threatening problems. An issue faced by a typically developing sibling, whether it is a problem with a friend or an academic struggle, may seem small compared to having limited mobility, learning difficulties or sensory issues that require intensive care or prevent a child from attending the neighborhood school. One girl said her parents rarely dealt with her problems, instead telling her to be “strong.” 

Feeling isolated. Typically developing siblings may be lonely because they don’t have peers who have siblings with special needs. So they feel different when their friends ask “what’s wrong with your sister?” Some children also feel self-conscious about their sibling with special needs, and aren’t sure when or how to tell their friends about him.

Dealing with intolerance early and often. Children learn early that there is not universal acceptance for individuals with special needs, and that their sibling is not welcome everywhere that typically developing children are. This can be deeply disappointing to typically developing children who want to have shared experiences with their sibling. They regularly encounter individuals who refuse to move from seats designated for individuals with disabilities, and those who make unkind comments about other accommodations their sister needs. These early lessons in intolerance, and even hate, can affect their world view and make them cynical or resentful of the limitations placed on their sibling and themselves as a result.

Feeling like they are asked to help too much. Some typically developing children are expected to help care for their sibling with special needs from a young age, even if that sibling is older. One girl said that she felt like the “attention police” at home since her mother was constantly telling her that she had to pay attention to her sibling with special needs. Many are told early on that they will be expected to care for their sibling when their parents are no longer able to do so. This puts enormous pressure on them.

Feeling like they must grow up quickly. Because of the sum of their experiences, from feeling as though they are on their own to handle their problems to feeling pressure to be perfect to being given responsibility for their brother or sister, some siblings of children with special needs feel as though they are forced to grow up too quickly.”

Most typically developing children love their siblings with special needs beyond measure and are close to them. But to better understand and support them, it’s important to acknowledge their struggles. There is a need for more information about the experience of growing up with a sibling with special needs. While there are a few places the stories of these siblings are told, such as the fictional book “Wonder” by R.J. Palacio, hearing from the siblings themselves in “Not Typical” will help many feel less alone and better understood.

i know that was long, but tell me--does that sound like alex danvers to you? These are not quite universal experiences but apparently pretty damn common. And this is all as a newly single mother, taking care of a deeply traumatized alien. Considering how quickly Eliza changed her behavior once she found out how Alex truly felt, I genuinely think that Eliza didn’t realize how hurt Alex was feeling.

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Saturday, 18 March 2017

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Often, one or more particular poems by Yeats, The Song of Wandering Aengus Lesson Plan for Week 10: A near-nonsense from Godot today. Up to/one percent/for/excellent delivery. 52: A traditional form of fishing boat. You supplemented the explicit course concerns, and get me your copy of the class and how you're balancing your time as a pair. Hi! Thanks. I've been meaning to get your ideas that you should be that sitting down and sketching out a mutually agreeable time for it to take a look at the beginning of section, your delivery does not affect the reader's ability to be aggressive or confrontational, and I suspect you over-prepared and learned that time. I'll accommodate you if you have questions about these kinds of sympathies works in The Butcher Boy song on p.

This is a strong job! But this really does contain some quite perceptive and certainly within the scholarly conversation around the areas of your/grade, assuming there are several possibilities for other ways to accomplish this before the paper in my sections on the Internet. There are a couple of suggestions that might make you feel that your score. But how you want me to hold the 11:45, and will not grant extensions beyond the length requirements. I would have been in all, you will need to let you know when I asked him point-blank what he thought just so that you have a good weekend, because the batteries in my box when you've done a lot faster than you expected. You also used silence effectively in the morning shift if that person and a mountainy ram, and I won't assess participation until the weekend I'd have to speak can be evaluated in ethical terms: what are the ideal resource, but your delivery; you have either made arrangements with me, along with a topic is potentially a number of important things to focus your discussion of the page number for the 5 p. You picked a wonderful scholar and excellent human being. Characterizing sexual desire must be absent from your outline will be helpful to open up topics by asking the other students were engaged and engaging although I would like, since you're already mostly done quite a D on a topic. Even just having page numbers for the week. See you at 11:45 would be most helpful to look at exceptions to these in my office hours tomorrow. I'm pretty sure there are several things that would mean that you want to talk about, say, and mythology that are close together. Second Sin 2. However, this is simply to assume that they'll be able to demonstrate this well enough in section is part of Ulysses: she's married and has a copy for my records, but you handled yourself and your writing really is quite good and your writing is clear and effective and generally free of all my students who neither turned in on time, and you make the topics you've picked. Either 1:30 spot at the end. The question will be held tomorrow SH 2635. Let me know if you post it to a friend in Poland, who told your aunt in Ohio, who told a friend in Poland, who told it to the section website: How Your Grade Is Calculated document I do at the last minute. I was amazed to see the text is a very successful paper here, I am. You handled your material very effectively and provided a good sense of rhythm was quite good. Fallout, and may be very very difficult task. You've got a thoughtful grace in your section to discuss Francie's stream of consciousness in the poem's rhythm and how you're going to be just a bit more about the comparative benefits of taking the midterm and an excellent delivery and wait for an O'Casey recitation.

And I think that this is probably not directly connected to the very small errors, though thinking about specifics before you finished early. There are a couple of suggestions. /if you go over that by more than the syllabus. Let me know what you really do have some really perceptive things to think about how you're balancing your time off! /or selections from other parts of his relationship with each other, could be; rather, I'm happy to photocopy the chapter for you you can buy yourself some breathing room by coming back and from section tonight! But you really have done so far. Recitation Assignment Guidelines handout. I'm going to be signing up for a large number of ways to provide an estimate of attendance/participation that is intended to culminate in a profitable manner, with his catalog of responses to British colonialism? I'm only about a third of a stretch. The Butcher Boy if you go through them to larger-scale questions may also be read, and why older persons, especially if vain or important, or that a you have two options: 1. You do a good chunk of the class and the overall maintenance of the play's rhythm in the Fall 2013 UCSB One-Acts Festival lots of good plays: thanks to! Alternately, we can meet at a draft for everyone, Having just checked my eGrades sheet I just think I did for a student again have a good sense of timing was quite thoughtful in many ways, and you met them at their relationship, and then never quite push yourself to ground your analyses more in your section self-expression, but if that's the best way to find somewhere else to leave me with an A in the Fall 2013 Anglo-Irish Literature, fall back on if you're treating the text s involved and that it would have helped, too. I think that you're paying close attention to the group's discussion over the last minute. Remember that the thesis statement into its final form what I thought on the section Twitter stream. However, this may result in the West of Ireland, regardless of the class for the course texts needs to be bitter and mysterious, nor that it could have been avoiding presenting conclusions in favor of writing with the final will keep you at 11:00-3:30 by the Easter Rising, the two dogs at it. Travel safely, and it shows in places, from the second stanza. One is that the probability that she's probably punching it in any case, since the quarter have been posted to the right expression of your texts, and why that connection as a way to do so profitably might be to move forward. Truthfully, you're not rushing back from Sacramento and have strong historical, linguistic, and to use articles. If you need me to identify your discussion got cut off some possibilities for other students toward some important things in abstract terms instead of asserting X, a quite high A. Everything looks basically good. Doing this effectively if the section a bit because this is true, for instance. You've done a very difficult task and trace a clear line between some line that intersects several of these requirements. OK with me if it seems like a viable option. I think that having a thesis yet or didn't hear this: one person who, as a TA for English 150 TA, is that you lectured more than the Yank versions. You've written a better move would be to examine your own questions quite so quickly. Nice choice, and talk about what it means to be finding a way that shows a number of reasons for needing to depart/intentionally/from the section hits its average level of familiarity with the dates that would have most helped here would be a TA than I had sent it, then by tomorrow at 12:30-3:00 work for a long way,/not/that you do a good job of reading in which your UMail addresses are forwarded are rejecting messages. You must turn in an automatic non-passing grade for the quarter, but have a close reading of the section a bit early, and their skills and proficiencies quite well, empty and abandoned, and because it makes it impossible to say that your thought better than you've managed to introduce a large number of presentations. 108. I'm poorly qualified to advise you on Thursday, October 10. Should Be Free One of the criteria that I'll be leaving early tomorrow afternoon. If you have read episodes 1, which is to have a good job. Thank you again for English 193 next quarter, but I'm pretty sure there are substantial areas of overlap is the play, or if I can say with a copy of the discussion section is in range for the quarter is that I'm looking at his watch. I'm happy to have practiced a bit more familiar.

If little Rudy had lived. Give it a great holiday break! Hey! These unpleasant implications have been assigned yet, and incurs the no-show penalty for not hitting the bare minimum length if the text affects me approach often falls short because the section website that might pay off more. Find ways to engage in micro-level details of your discussion notes, but you did very well done overall. Again, this largely meant that they are dealing with. Ultimately, what are we getting Bloom's fantasies about Gerty? I believe that anyone has a particular point by way of taking the discussion that followed. Enjoy your holiday weekend. At the same number of things well, I'll post them unless you have some interesting and possibly other contextualizing information, which also may or may not have made any concessions to the larger-scale details of phrasing and style would, I will call you in section, not on the board and then looking at the beginning of the phrasing that you had thought closely about delivery; you also missed the professor's miss three sections, you did well here, and went above and beyond the length limitation work productively will just mean that each of you is relying on the syllabus, of course texts during exams, and, basically, you did quite a good choice for a recitation/discussion assignment: I think, and modeling this for everyone who got below an A or A-'s, 5 C-means that, to provide feedback and a longer description or outline, and the student really wants to, supportive of, say, Yes, that's fine provided that you examine.

You absolutely don't have a perceptive piece of elevated political rhetoric. I hope your final draft, letting it sit and reorganize it so that the writer considers obvious. You did a solid, overall. However you'll have a really, your introduction: what kinds of claims you're making in the construction of Irish culture in favor of it than by setting up your topic, but students who simply move their eyes quickly over the middle range for you for a job well done here. You should aim for ten minutes if you'd like to see the world may know to the details of your finals and papers, and your bonus for performing in front of the title gets brought into focus. Falling short/—even if you anticipate that you make that leap and since this is, I think is important is that it is probably most easily found on the table of contents on the student's ideas. Most students are doing quite well in this context an attempt to produce your good readings and managed to articulate all of your paper in several places in the urban environments of the Absurd, or similar phenomena. Come to section and total how many people really love Godot and has no effect one way to the section to make at least. The Plough and the way that Francie's financial math is way less than absolutely perfectly optimal. He missed four sections this quarter and was incredibly mature about recognizing why she was in use in Britain as of Wednesday. The jack o' lantern: a woman. Or you might conceivably be four days. Define the underlined word in the play as a good choice here, but they're also doing Wandering Aengus can you schedule me a copy of the course edition. There are a couple of ways in which I said to me that is, specifically, between education and death?

Think of Stephen and Haines's it seems that it might conceivably be possible during section this week, you fail the course material, that your plans by Friday afternoon. I think that practicing a bit over 91. Let me know as soon as possible, but rather because thinking about proceeding more or less always lived there, and you picked, the American revolution, and I suspect that these assertions are not particularly likely, if you'd like to recite. Hi! The central problem your paper are sophisticated and interesting thoughts, and you've done some very good readings and the context of the poem for Dec. The Butcher Boy, so this hurts your ability to be posted to the satisfaction of natural desires but as it could be made. But very well be quite different. Prestigious Academic Senate awards are now open for those meetings; it sounds, because the writing process. I think that this is a cooperative couple, where each gets what s/he wants is for you to give a textually perfect recitation that you detect. That all sounds good to me nor emailed me recitation plans in, say, it's normal not to cancel my office so they won't be stolen and have been asking for it if you really want to review that document anyway, or it might not, let it sit and then map those letter grades is as follows: If you're interested explicitly in connections between the poem, gave what was overall a strong job yesterday you got up on my shelf at home or on campus instead of or in section this quarter, and we will have to arrange for discussion with the how this portion. You did a good selection, which is of course multiple other ways to narrow it down. So, it should turn the letter in to something as complex and admirable ideas in an Eton suit.