#yes this is about riverwalk

[descendantofthesparrow]

question; if the job i worked at early this year-switched companies in the beginning of march-and it seems the W2 i got only accounts for the (2)months i worked under that new company....should i get a W2 from the og company/boss i worked under?

cuz i cannot find my W2 for paychex anywhere and last year it was available within the first week of january

[keeps-ache]

i don't wanna take over the world, it sounds like a lot. but you know, laying siege to a golf course sounds really nice sometimes

[lemoncrushh]

Too Far From Texas | Chapter Five

STORY PAGE

Word Count: 5691

As soon as Lorelei and I arrived at our hotel, I was already in need of a nap, and it was just barely lunch time. On the drive, I’d told Lorelei that she could pick the music, and she surprised me by saying she wanted to listen to Harry’s CD which was still in my player. Though she was somewhat familiar with One Direction, she didn’t really know their music, but she was curious to hear what solo Harry sounded like. By the third or fourth song, she was already lying back in her seat with an approving smile on her face.

We’d stopped once for a bathroom break and to fill up on gas, and that was when I took the opportunity to check my phone. The day before had consisted of a series of short text conversations with Harry, him telling me he had landed in Chicago, me telling him to have a good day, and him wishing me luck on my San Antonio trip. That morning I awoke to one more text which I figured he’d sent very late, after I’d gone to bed, saying he was thinking of me and missed me. I wasn’t really sure how to feel about that, but I sent him a text back saying me too. So far he hadn’t sent anything else.

Lorelei rolled her suitcase next to the bed she’d designated as hers and announced that we should go have lunch on the Riverwalk. Despite my arguments that I wanted to get some shut eye, she insisted we needed to eat.

I’d just ordered my food and was people watching as I sipped on my mojito when my phone alerted me of a text.

In San Antonio yet?

I smiled as I picked up my phone to reply.

Yes. Having lunch. How are you?

Great. On my way to lunch too. Just wanted to say hi.

Hi :)

I’ll call you tonight. When I’m back at my hotel. If it’s not too late.

Ok. I should be up. I’m actually going to take a nap after this.

Ok baby x

The texts were short and to the point, but it was the term of endearment that had me grinning like a fool, staring at my phone screen for a few more seconds.

“Earth to Stacey!” I heard somewhere in the distance. I looked up to see Lorelei with her eyes wide.

“What?” I asked, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

She blew out a puff of breath. “Damn, that boy has you smitten.”

“Stop,” I rolled my eyes, laying my phone back down on the table.

“Please. Don’t tell me you didn’t deliberately have your phone out, hoping he’d text you. And when he did you gawked and giggled like a teenager.”

I took another sip of my cocktail. “I did not.”

“Uh huh. You are a smitten kitten.”

I glared at her. “Who was the one who said I should let myself be happy? Was that you? I forget.”

Lorelei chuckled. “I know I did, hon. I’m not putting you down for it. I’m glad to see you like this.”

I grinned sheepishly, pressing my cloth napkin flat in my lap.

“He calls me baby,” I admitted.

“He does?” Lorelei leaned forward.

I nodded, nervously covering my mouth with my fist. “Is it too soon?”

Lor sat back again with a shrug. “No. I don’t think so. I think it’s cute.”

“I mean, nobody’s called me that since...Tod.”

“It feels good, huh?”

I bit my lip. “Yeah.”

“He’s sweet.”

I merely nodded, feeling myself start to blush. Fortunately, the waiter came by with our food, and our conversation changed to plans for the book signing the next day.

Lorelei, always the most energetic person I’d ever known, declared that she was not the least bit tired, so she was going to stroll down the Riverwalk while I took a nap. I felt bad for abandoning her, but after the drive topped off with a relaxing lunch and alcohol, I was beat and had a dull headache.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep when I heard the sound of the door unlocking and Lorelei stepped into the room.

“Hey sleepyhead,” she greeted me. I noticed she was carrying a couple of shopping bags.

“Hey,” I rubbed my eyes. “What time is it?”

“Nearly four,” she replied.

“Damn,” I muttered, sitting up. “What’d you buy?”

Lorelei smiled, digging into her first bag and pulling out a long necklace with a pretty turquoise pendant.

“Very pretty,” I nodded.

Then she reached into her second bag and pulled out two t-shirts.

“For the girls,” she said.

“Lor, you didn’t have to do that,” I remarked.

“I wanted to,” she shrugged, dropping the shirts back into the bag and setting everything on her bed as she sat down.

“That reminds me,” I said, reaching for my phone. “I need to check in.”

I send a quick text to Tod asking if the girls were okay. He immediately responded with a yes, saying that Emery was wanting to go shopping for a costume, but he didn’t have time, he had to teach. With a frown, I texted him back.

I took her yesterday. She didn’t see what she wanted. You might have to order her something if she’s really wanting to be that Steven Universe character.

I’m not ordering her a costume. She doesn’t have to be that character. She can pick something else at the store.

Well then if you don’t have time to take her, I’ll have to take her Friday.

I guess so.

I wanted so badly to throw my phone across the room. Fucking Tod! Instead, I dropped my phone on the bed and walked to the bathroom, practically slamming the door behind me.

“You okay, hon?” I heard Lorelei call from the other side.

“I hate him!” I yelled back.

“Well, that’s nothing new.”

I washed my hands and splashed water on my face, trying my best to calm down. I was in another city, away from Tod and there was nothing he could do to me if I didn’t let him. So with a deep breath, I ran my fingers through my hair and opened the door.

“Let’s go out!” I announced.

“Yes!” cheered Lorelei.

Lor was in her element. I felt like a fish out of water. Which might be an ironic phrase to use considering the inside of the night club looked like an aquarium.

After a lovely dinner, we’d decided to have a drink at the bar of our hotel. But soon Lorelei got restless and asked the bartender if there were any fun night clubs nearby. He’d suggested one just a couple blocks away, and within minutes I found myself in a cab on my way to a club, the first time I’d been to one since my marriage.

The beat was starting to get to me, despite the shots of tequila Lorelei had bought when we’d arrived. I wasn’t drunk and the room wasn’t spinning, but the scent of perfume and sweat mixed with the loud bass of the music made me want to gag. It was probably the first time since my twenties that so many bodies were within close proximity to mine, except for maybe that time I had floor seats for Green Day and there weren’t actual seats. I felt light-headed and in need of hydration.

“Gonna get some water!” I yelled into Lorelei’s ear as she swayed her hips, a young latino giving his approval with his eyes.

She nodded at me, though she continued to flirt with the guy with her dance moves.

“What can I get you, Red?” asked the bartender. Normally I would have rolled my eyes. Like I hadn’t heard that one before.

“Just a water, please,” I replied with a sugary sweet smile.

I sipped through the straw as though I hadn’t had anything to drink for days, quickly reaching ice. I heard a voice next to me, and it took me a second to realize they were talking to me.

“I’m sorry?” I turned my head to see a man, his shirt and chest sweaty. He was somewhat attractive, but not really my type. If I had a type. Did I have a type?

“Let me get you another one of those,” he offered, pointing to my empty glass.

“Oh,” I chuckled, shaking my head. “It’s okay. It’s just water.”

“Well, then, let’s put something in that water.”

Before I could protest, the guy turned towards the bar and ordered something. When he handed me a glass with a grin, I smiled back and thanked him. Taking a hesitant sip, I quickly noticed it was nearly pure alcohol and most likely had no water in it. I drank it anyway, hoping the sooner I did, the sooner the man would go away.

“You have gorgeous hair,” he remarked, stepping closer to me.

“Thanks.” I just kept sipping through my straw, hoping he’d take the hint that I was not interested.

“What’s your name?”

I eyed him. “Stacey.”

“Beautiful name, Stacey,” he said, his hand suddenly brushing across my back. “I’m Chad.”

Of course. He looked like a Chad. He also looked really young. Too young for me. Or at least I thought, until I suddenly remembered Harry. Okay, I didn’t suddenly remember him. I thought about him a lot. He just didn’t seem as young as this Chad guy. Even though he was probably younger.

“Nice to meet you,” I nodded. I took the last sip of my cocktail, making it a point to slurp it as loudly as possible before setting it on the bar.

“Wanna dance?” asked Chad, leaning in.

I blinked. “I’m sorry. I really have to go to the ladies’ room.”

“Oh, okay,” Chad cocked his head.

“Excuse me,” I said. I started to walk around him, then thought perhaps I was being a bit rude. I turned back to look at him. “Thank you for the drink.”

There was a line for the bathroom. I fanned myself with my hand, wishing I hadn’t drunk Chad’s cocktail. I leaned against the wall and pulled my phone out of my pocket, ready to text Lorelei, even though she probably wouldn’t notice. My heart fluttered in my chest when I realized I had a missed call from Harry, and he had left a voicemail. I knew I wouldn’t be able to hear it in the noise of the club, so I waited until I was inside the stall to listen to it.

“Hi Stacey,” he greeted me. “I got back to the hotel earlier than I thought I would so I reckoned I’d ring you. Guess you’re busy. If…if you get a chance, call me back okay?”

I heard him sigh then, and I’m not sure why, but it turned me on. “I miss your voice. Is that weird?”

No, I shook my head. God, why was I sitting in a bathroom stall in a noisy night club when I could’ve been in my nice hotel bed talking to Harry on the phone?

“Talk to you soon, baby,” Harry said, completing the message.

Without hesitation, I quickly texted Harry, letting him know I was out with Lorelei but would call him as soon as we got back to the hotel. I didn’t wait for a reply as I pulled up my pants and left the stall. I was washing my hands when I heard Lorelei’s voice.

“Hey, there you are!” she exclaimed, taking the sink next to mine. “I saw you with that hunk at the bar.”

“Hunk?” I laughed out loud. “Hardly. More like frat boy.”

She made a face, seductively sticking out her tongue. “Those aren’t so bad.”

I nudged her hip with mine. “You’re awful.”

“Okay Miss British Boy Band Hottie.”

I side-eyed her as I grabbed a paper towel. “That didn’t even make sense.”

She giggled as she followed me out of the ladies’ room. The music hit me in the face once again as the blue and red lights bounced off the walls.

“Can we go?” I asked.

“Sure,” Lorelei shrugged. “My sexy latin lover has found another partner anyway.”

We took another cab back to the hotel where I kicked off my heels and stripped out of my jeans as fast as I could. Then I scrubbed off my makeup and got into bed, prepared to call Harry. But when I laid down, I noticed he’d replied to my text.

Let me know when you get back.

I texted him with an “I’m back” and within two seconds, my phone was ringing. Only it wasn’t for a regular call.

“Holy shit, he’s wanting to FaceTime,” I cried.

“Who, Harry?” Lorelei asked as she rubbed lotion on her hands and arms.

“No, Donald Trump,” I snapped, finally answering the call.

“Ewww,” Lorelei sounded just as Harry’s face came into view.

“Hi,” I chuckled.

“Hi, beautiful,” he grinned.

I half covered my face with my hand. “Oh my God, I’ve already taken off my makeup.”

“And?” Harry raised a brow.

“I look awful,” I groaned.

“Oh give me a break,” Lorelei jested from her bed. “Like you’re never gonna let him see you without makeup.”

“You hush!” I pointed at her as I heard Harry chuckle.

“I just called you beautiful, do you want me to say it again?”

“Oh God, he’s so freaking cute!” exclaimed Lorelei.

“He can hear you, you know?” I glared at her.

“Good!”

I shook my head as Lorelei rose from her bed and headed to the bathroom, mouthing that she’d give us a little privacy.

“How are you, Harry?” I asked him shyly.

“I’m fine. How was your evening?”

“It was...interesting,” I laughed.

“Yeah? What’d you do?”

“We um...went to a club.”

Harry smiled. “Oh yeah? Do you dance, Stacey?”

“Not so much,” I replied. “A little maybe. But it just wasn’t really my kind of place. Too loud. Or maybe I’m too old.”

“Doubt that.”

“Some guy hit on me,” I giggled, covering my face with my hand again.

“Now that I don’t doubt,” Harry commented. “Just one guy though?”

“Harry,” I shook my head.

“What?” He had a smug look on his face, his eyebrows raised as he jokingly mocked me. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“The bartender might’ve been flirting with me a little bit.”

“Mmm hmm,” Harry nodded.

I felt myself start to blush so I looked at the painting on the wall to my right.

“Anyway, while we were there, I got your message, so we came back here.”

“You left the club just so you could talk to me?”

My breath hitched in my throat. Had I just confessed something unknowingly?

“Well...you know…” I stumbled. “I’d had enough to drink, I was ready to go.”

I dared to shift my gaze back to him, and when I did, his face broke into a wide grin, his dimples just about making my heart stop. I bit my lip, knowing without a doubt my face matched my hair.

“What time’s your book signing?” asked Harry.

“Ten,” I replied, sitting up and scooting back against the headboard. I lifted my knees, and resting my forearms against them, holding my phone.

“Same store chain?”

“Barnes & Noble, yeah.”

Harry nodded.

“Don’t think I’ll be as lucky this time to bump into another pop star at Starbucks, though,” I quipped.

“Heyyy.”

I giggled. Again. This guy made me laugh a lot. Mental note taken.

“You never know,” he shrugged.

“Pretty sure that was a once in a lifetime scenario,” I remarked. “Actually more like once in a few lifetimes.”

Harry shifted his eyes, and I could tell something was rolling around in his brain, but he didn’t voice it. Instead he asked me how my kids were.

“Good, I guess,” I answered with a sigh. “As soon as I get back I have to try to find a Halloween costume for Emery. We didn’t find anything yesterday and apparently her dad’s not going to take the time to get her what she wants.”

“What was it she wanted to be?” inquired Harry.

“Lapis something. From Steven Universe. She loves that cartoon.”

“Oh, okay.”

“It’s probably something I’d have to special order, and I don’t think I’d get it in time,” I explained. “So I guess she’ll have to pick something else. Something we can get at the store.”

Just then, Lorelei re-emerged from the bathroom, crossing the room to her suitcase.

“Don’t mind me,” she said, waving her hand. “Just getting my book, then I’m going out on the balcony.”

I smiled at her gratefully as she closed the sliding door, giving me a thumbs up.

“I should probably let you get to bed,” Harry said softly. “It’s one in the morning.”

“I’m actually in bed,” I teased.

Harry smirked. “I meant sleep.”

“I’m not that tired,” I shrugged. “I had that nap today. But I bet you’re tired.”

Harry cocked his head from side to side. “Kinda.”

“Mmm,” I nodded. “Get some sleep, Harry.”

“I like talking to you,” he stated, though I wasn’t sure if he meant he didn’t want to hang up yet.

“You do?”

“It calms me,” he said.

I grinned as I wrapped a strand of hair around my finger. “That’s funny. Because I feel anything but calm right now.”

Did I just admit that out loud? My heart was practically beating out of my chest, my face so warm that he surely noticed the red shade of my skin.

“Why?” Harry asked. “Do I make you nervous?”

“Not really nervous…” I hesitated, trying to think of the right word. “More like...excited.”

Harry raised his brows, a tiny movement that was enough to make my pulse jolt. “Excited, I like that. Excited about what, exactly?”

I pulled the covers up to my chest, tracing the edge with my finger. “You know,” I muttered.

“No, I don’t. Tell me.”

I licked my lips, avoiding his gaze.

“Baby…”

I shut my eyes, taking in a deep breath. “I...I really like you.”

“I thought we established that already,” Harry chuckled low.

“And I’m very attracted to you,” I added.

“Kinda reckoned so by that kiss.”

I finally lifted my eyes then to look at him. The expression on his face was indeed calm, with a hint of question.

“I guess so,” I agreed.

“Tell me what you’re excited about, love.”

I let out another breath and rubbed my eye. “Well...I guess...you and me,” I said. “Us.”

Harry’s dazzling smile returned to his face as I saw him shift in the camera, seemingly lying back, his arm behind his head.

“What are you doing?” I asked, most definitely nervous now.

Maybe I shouldn’t have confessed that just yet. Maybe there was no “us”. Maybe we were just two people chatting, passing time while we traveled. Maybe this meant nothing more than I was lonely and lucky enough to have a cute guy flirting with me over the phone.

“Getting comfortable,” Harry replied. “I wanna hear more.”

Okay, he had said he was trying to woo me.

“More of what?”

“More about us,” he said, his accent making “us” sound more like “ooz”.

I couldn’t help but giggle as I slid down the bed, my head hitting the pillow.

“Stay like that,” I heard Harry murmur.

“What?”

“Just like that. Your hair spread out on your pillow, that gorgeous smile on your face. You’re so pretty, baby.”

“Stop…” I rolled my eyes.

“No, you stop. Don’t move.”

“Huh?”

“Look at me,” he instructed. “Hold your phone a little closer.”

I moved my hand slightly until he told me to leave it there. Then he leaned closer into the screen until all I saw was a blur of his lips as he attempted to kiss me through the phone. When he moved back to his original position, he had a pout on his lips.

“Not as good as the real thing, but it’ll have to do,” he sighed.

“Harry…”

“Yeah?”

I swallowed hard, trying with all my might to relax and not make a fool of myself by saying the wrong thing.

“You definitely have this wooing thing down,” I commented.

Harry smiled. “Just imagine what I could do if I was there with you.”

“No,” I quickly shook my head.

“No?”

“I refuse to imagine that.”

“Why?”

I shut my eyes again and breathed out my nose slowly.

“Because...I’d want it too badly. And then I wouldn’t be able to get it out of my head. And it would just be torture.”

“Stacey…”

“We should probably go to sleep now,” I announced.

“Alright, baby. Talk to you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “Goodnight, Harry.”

“Night, love.”

I rested my phone on the night stand and headed to the bathroom just as Lorelei opened the balcony door. I didn’t make eye contact with her until I returned and crawled into bed.

“Everything okay?” she asked me.

“Uh huh,” I nodded with a sigh.

“Smitten kitten,” she teased as she reached over to turn off her lamp. “That’s what you are.”

“I am,” I giggled leaning my head back. “God, I so am.”

Like the Barnes & Noble in Houston, this one was also cold when we arrived. It had also rained during the night, the overcast weather making it even chillier. I was grateful that everything was already set up when we got there, no sweating woman carrying boxes. Lorelei and I were able to take our seats right away.

“Good morning!” a young, chipper brunette with a ponytail walked over to us. I noticed she was wearing a Starbucks apron. “My name’s Melanie, and I’ll be assisting you with any beverages you’d like today. Can I get you started with something Ma’am?”

Lorelei sat up straight. “Oh gosh, that would be great. Could I get a tall, non-fat caramel macchiato?”

“Sure thing!” piped Melanie, scribbling something on a pad. “Lorelei, correct?”

“Yes.” Lorelei dug into her purse and pulled out a ten, attempting to hand it to Melanie.

“Oh, no ma’am,” she shook her head. “It’s all taken care of.”

“Oh,” Lorelei stared ahead. “Thanks.”

Melanie then addressed me. “And you’re Stacey?”

“Yes,” I nodded.

“Grande soy white chocolate mocha?”

I glared at the young girl. “Yes. How did you-?”

“Got it!” Melanie beamed, turning back from where she’d come, her ponytail bobbing behind her.

“What in the world?” I turned to Lorelei.

“That’s nice,” she said. “Complimentary drinks.”

“No, I mean, how did she know my order?”

Lor shrugged. “Beats me. Maybe the Houston store told her.”

“I doubt that,” I shook my head. “I’ve never heard of-” Suddenly it dawned on me. “Harry.”

Lorelei’s lips turned up into a smile. “That kid. He did this.”

I sat back in my chair, folding my arms, my own grin on my face. “He certainly did.”

Melanie brought our coffees and shortly afterwards, the store was officially open for the book signing. Just like before, we had all age groups of readers, all eager to tell us how much they enjoyed the book. Some hoped we were releasing a sequel soon, some wishing for a completely new story.

During a small break, Melanie returned to ask if we’d like anything else. I just asked for a water while Lorelei ordered a slice of lemon cake and another latte.

“What?” she voiced when I eyed her. “Your boyfriend would want me to.”

I poked her in the side with a sneer. “Boyfriend?”

Lorelei widened her eyes and fluttered her lashes. “Fine, so maybe you haven’t given it a title yet, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re getting close.”

I shook my head and excused myself to go to the bathroom. While inside, I considered my friend’s words. She was right, we hadn’t exactly confirmed what we were or where this...whatever this was...was going. But what if…? What if Harry Styles became...my boyfriend?

Oh God, I was being ridiculous. We had one semi-date and hadn’t even seen each other since, other than the FaceTime call the night before. I had no idea if and when I’d be with him again. And it looked as though both of us would be busy for a while.

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder. What if…?

After the book signing, which turned out to be lucrative, Lorelei and I went out for Chinese. I was on such a high, feeling great about the book sales (and admittedly Harry and his thoughtfulness), I ordered wine with my dinner and proposed a toast.

Lorelei seemed to enjoy my glee and enthusiasm, and even commented that I had loosened up a bit.

“So glad to see you like this, hon,” she said, raising her glass. “I think Harry is good for you.”

I smirked. “It’s not just Harry. I’m happy for us. And I’m grateful for you.”

“Aww,” she sounded, tilting her head.

“I love you, Lor. You’re my best friend.”

“I love you, too,” she echoed, clinking her glass with mine. “Now let’s eat before you make me cry.”

It might’ve been some really strong wine, or it might’ve been the fact that I hadn’t consumed anything all day except for coffee and a muffin, but after only two glasses of wine I felt more drunk than I had the night before at the club. I stumbled out of the elevator and waited for Lorelei to unlock the door. I groaned as I plopped down on the bed, covering my eyes with my palms.

“Do you need some coffee or something?” I heard Lorelei ask.

“God please, no more coffee!”

I heard her chuckle. “Alright then, Advil?”

“Yes, please.”

“Gonna get some ice. Be right back.”

When I heard the door click closed, I took in a deep breath and released it slowly. Between the wine and the Chinese food, I had horrible heartburn. So much for the high I’d been on.

I suddenly heard a knock on the door and my first thought was that Lor had forgotten her key. I groaned again as I rose from the bed to open it. But what I saw was not Lorelei with her bucket of ice.

“Ms. Barnett?” smiled the tall, blonde woman whom I recognized as the concierge that I’d spoken with when we’d first arrived. In her hands she held a beautiful vase full of flowers.

“Yes, hi,” I greeted her, eyeing the bouquet.

“Flowers for you,” she said, handing the vase out to me.

“Oh!” I exclaimed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Have a good evening.”

As the woman turned away, Lorelei passed her, giving her a nod and a smile. When she saw the flowers in my hands she whistled.

“Wow, look at you!”

I followed her back into the room, the door closing behind us. I inspected the bouquet, finding a small card. Setting the flowers on the table, I pulled the card out to read it.

Can’t get you out of my head. But I wouldn’t call it torture.

Until I can be with you… H

I shut my eyes, pressing the card to my chest as I took another deep breath.

“Don’t think I need to guess who those are from,” said Lorelei.

I shook my head, my eyes still closed.

“They’re lovely,” she added.

I nodded.

“Here,” I heard her whisper as she tapped my shoulder.

I opened my eyes finally to see her with a glass of water in one hand, two Advil in the other. I told her thanks and took them from her after replacing the card.

After a little cat nap to nurse my headache, I felt better and texted Harry to thank him for the flowers and the coffee. He replied so quickly it was almost as though he’d been waiting to hear from me, though I knew he hadn’t. He said he was on his way out and most likely wouldn’t get to talk to me before I went to bed, so he told me goodnight and to have a safe trip home.

Lorelei and I watched a movie before going to sleep, even though I was only partially paying attention. I’d hoped it could be a distraction, but no such luck.

I had to admit, I wasn’t sure how to interpret these feelings I was having. I knew I liked him. I knew he liked me. He made it very obvious. The truth was, I wasn’t used to being treated this way. Not even Tod had been so thoughtful and attentive, even in the beginning of our relationship. Was it too much? Was I setting myself up for heartbreak? It was almost like a fairytale, or at least like a romance novel. But even fiction didn’t always have a happy ending.

“You’re going without me?” I shouted.

“It’s not my fault you didn’t call your mom to babysit, Stacey. I told you about this a week ago.”

Tod stood beside the closet, buttoning his shirt.

“But that’s not fair. I told you I forgot!”

Tod ignored my admission, his jaw set as he sat on the bed to put on his shoes and strap his watch around his wrist. I felt the tears begin to fall as my chest shook.

“So just because I didn’t get a babysitter, you’re still going?”

“He’s my friend, Stacey. Not yours. It doesn’t really matter if you go.”

“Are...are you serious?” I felt like he’d just punched me in the gut.

With a look of hatred, Tod rose from the bed and walked around me. When he reached the top of the stairs, he told me he’d be home later, but didn’t know what time.

For reasons unknown, I followed him in silence down the stairs and watched him walk out the back door, shutting it behind him. It was only then that I noticed my cheeks were soaked, my bottom lip trembling. Yet inside, all I felt was pure rage.

Running for the door, I swung it open, the sound of an engine revving up coming from the driveway. I pounded on the driver’s side window when I reached it, begging Tod to roll it down even though no sound came from my mouth.

Finally, the window descended, the driver behind the wheel not Tod, yet someone else I recognized.

“Please!” I screamed. “Please don’t do thi-”

“Don’t do what?” he asked, his green eyes blazing with anger.

“Don’t….don’t…”

I sat up in bed, the breath knocked out of me. My hair was stuck to my face, wet from sweat, or perhaps tears. Though the room was dark, all I could see were circles, shapes blocking my vision.

“Stace, you okay?” I heard to my left.

Blinking, I turned my head to see an outline of Lorelei, lying in bed.

“Yeah,” I exhaled. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

She sat up, reaching for a glass on the nightstand. “Need some water?”

I nodded as she flipped on the lamp and handed me the glass. I blinked again, adjusting my eyes to the light. Taking the water, I drank it all in two gulps.

“Another dream?” Lorelei murmured, sitting on the edge of my bed.

“Yeah,” I sighed, running my fingers through my hair.

“I’m sorry. A repeat or a new one?”

“Repeat,” I said. “But the end was different.”

“Oh. How so?”

I looked at her. “Harry was in it.”

I’d never been to therapy. Lorelei and a couple other people told me I should have. At least while I was going through a divorce. Lor had seen a psychologist during her divorce, even though her marriage had only lasted a couple years, one she insisted had just been a dumb mistake. But she swore by her therapy, saying it was the best thing she’d ever done. It had opened her eyes to so many things about herself, not just her marriage.

It wasn’t that I was afraid to go. I knew it probably would have done me good. But at the time, I was struggling with trying to make the best life for my kids and me, and financially it just didn’t seem like a priority.

Two years later I felt like I was finally where I wanted to be, or at least getting close to achieving that. The only blip was that I somehow still let Tod get to me.

Tod never hit me. He never abused me, not really. I suppose a therapist might try to get me to admit that I was emotionally abused. And that might’ve been true. I just felt like because we had children together, it wasn’t fair for me to play the victim. He was a great father. Our girls loved him, and I believed that what was best for them was to have both parents still equally a part of their lives. But I couldn’t deny that he still made me want to spit in his face from time to time.

I continued to have dreams about him. When we were dating, before we ever got married, I would have dreams where he would leave me. Sometimes he’d be really mean and angry in the dream, sometimes just a cocky asshole. And sometimes in those dreams, he was leaving me to go back to his ex-wife. When I’d wake up, Tod would hold me and promise me that would never happen, that he was mine forever and he loved me.

I didn’t know exactly why I had those dreams, but I figured it stemmed from some kind of fear of abandonment, much like my mom had suffered when my dad left. I just wanted to be wanted.

As the years went by, I had the dreams less often, but every once in a while, I’d wake up in a pool of sweat. They’d finally dissipated until one night after the divorce I’d had another. And another. I continued to have them sporadically, but this was the first one I’d had that included a different man.

I knew what it meant. I didn’t need therapy to figure it out.

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[i-spaced-sorry]

River Dye Day:

Today (March 16th is the day the Chicago River dyes green! In keeping with the theme of writing one shots that are pertinent with what is happening holiday event wise (I've done the Baseball opening weekend, Easter, and The Festival of the Lights), I thought it would be fun to do the craziest holiday event! So enjoy

"Mom! Mom!" exclaimed Will, while rushing into the house.

Mrs. Halstead looked up from doing laundry and smiled at her 12 year old.

"Yes?"

"Timmy Taylor today told me that tomorrow they turn the river green, is that true?"

Chuckling, Mrs. Halstead replied, "yea, we see it green every year."

Jay, who had been kicking his shoes off, walks into the conversation and goes "we know that mom, but can we actually go see it be turned green?"

Mrs. Halstead knew this day would come, thought it would have been sooner, but expected it nonetheless.

"We can, but I'm warning you it going to be very crowded and we probably won't see much. It's not going to be like the festival of the lights I took you to when you were little."

The boys looked at each other and had a silent conversation between the two of them. Apparently Jay was arguing with Will and Will was trying to convince his brother it was worth it.

"We don't mind!" Stated Will finally.

"Okay, we'll leave at 8 tomorrow morning to get there so hopefully you'll see something."

The next day, the family of 3, Pat had to work at the construction site last minute, all made there way downtown.

Getting a spot near the Riverwalk on Wacker, they had a prime spot to watch.

When the event started, the boats began to speed around shooting out green dye, the boys leaned forward and watched on in awe.

"This is so cool" stated Jay while turning to look at his mom.

"I'm glad, but let's take a photo and then move so other people can see" stated Mrs. Halstead, while she looked around and noticed the giant crowd.

The boys quickly took their photo and entered into the crowd.

For the rest of that week the boys couldn't stop talking about how they saw the Chicago River turn green!

[keepsdeathhiscourt]

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature (18+ Only)

Story Summary: It's been ten years since Lucie LeMarche last set foot in New Orleans. But when she's forced to return to bury the woman who raised her, she finds herself pulled into the midst of rising supernatural tensions in the city. Entangled in a web of intrigue and seeking answers, Lucie must learn to navigate a powder keg of warring factions, family secrets, and old wounds if she hopes to survive.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Language, Death, Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Family Drama, Gore, Depictions of Violence, Death

Series Masterlist

Read on AO3

Chapter 5: Dealing with the Devil

The rain is a drizzle when they reach Elijah’s car, an SUV with sleek, black angles and pristine leather seats that cost more than she made in two years of waiting tables in Albuquerque’s South Valley. 

Lucie presses a borrowed handkerchief against the side of her neck and listens to the erratic cadence of water droplets hitting the windshield. 

Tap. Tap. Taptap. Tap.

The world beyond the rain-streaked windows is an oil painting of damp brick and shiny streets. She shifts in the heated seat, pulling the cloth away from her neck. It comes away red, but less saturated than when she’d first accepted it from Elijah after rejecting his offer of his blood. It tells her that the bleeding is slowing, the mess on her neck coagulating as she repositions the handkerchief and reapplies pressure. 

The inside of the vehicle is warm and silent, a refuge from the gathering storm outside. Neither occupant has spoken a word since he deposited her onto the plush upholstery and left the carnage of the Riverwalk behind. 

The engine is a steady hum, the drive smooth as they wind through empty streets.

Her eyelids are heavy as she spares a sidelong glance at the driver. His expression is as enigmatic as it’s been all evening, shadows and light casting over him in alternation as they pass under streetlights and out again. His grip on the steering wheel is loose, with all the surety of an expert. The gold of his ring glints as they round a corner, the blue stone black in the faint light.

She rests her head against the passenger window, the cold glass a balm to her aching head. The vibration is a focal point for her swimming thoughts, a respite for the worst of her lightheadedness. 

If circumstances were different, she might sleep. Even now, the allure is there, a testament to the ordeal she’s just been through. But she won’t allow it. The nature of the danger may have changed, but its presence still lingers. 

Yes, she’d allowed him to steer her away from the river, leaning into him for support as the raindrops washed away the bloody sidewalk until streams of diluted pink carried all evidence into the river. She still doesn’t understand why she’d taken his arm when he’d offered it. Perhaps it had been exhaustion in the wake of all that had transpired. Or maybe she had been tired of making live or death decisions, and the appeal of placing all of it in someone’s hands, just for a little while, was too appealing to turn up. Either way, the expensive fabric of his sleeve had been smooth beneath her fingers as she’d delivered her unwieldy body weight into his care. He had been a steady presence at her side, guiding them through winding, uneven streets. 

She’d been aware of the odd image they cut. Elijah, immaculately dressed and exuding a calm confidence in a designer suit. And Lucie in her tattered, bloody clothes, unsteady on her feet and clinging to him like a foal. Many things can be said about the inhabitants of the French Quarter, but they are skilled at minding their business. And so, they had passed through undisturbed. 

By the time they crossed over Canal Street, he’d been practically carrying her. But if Elijah had any complaints about her inability to literally pull her own weight, he never expressed them. And when she hit her limit, knees buckling and legs refusing to take her another inch, he didn't miss a beat, simply hooked an arm under her legs and swept her against his chest in a single fluid motion and murmured that they would be there soon. There was no energy to protest, and she’d been secretly grateful to be off her feet.

She’d contented herself to listening to the drizzle rap against striped awnings, to the soft whoosh of runoff that turned potholes into dirty puddles, to the clack of his shoes against the wet pavement as he maneuvered them around both until they reached his car, parked on a side street.

Yet despite his helpfulness, his willingness to assist her with a stalwart patience, the truth of the matter is that Elijah is an unknown quantity. An Original vampire who knows too much about her and had appeared at the most opportune of moments to play the savior. The role of avenging angel suited him from the rough dispatching of those who would harm her to the gentleness in which he’d handled her since.

And while Lucie is thankful for the intervention that had saved her life, she isn’t so naïve as to think it was done out of the kindness of his heart. She knows no matter how the rest of the evening unfolds, her actions will determine if she lives to see morning. She’s no longer dealing with fledgling nightwalkers, but a cunning and infinitely powerful being. As someone who's often struggled with curbing a sharp tongue, she needs to be careful.

So she resists the misguided urge to roll out of the moving vehicle and take her chances with the harsh asphalt and allows him to drive her to whatever secondary location is waiting for her.

That destination, much to her surprise, is the La Maison Blanche, her residence during her short-term stay in New Orleans.

The vehicle pulls into a parking space and Elijah’s only just pulled the key from the ignition when he’s opening her door and guiding her out onto the sidewalk. Raindrops dissolve against her hair. He doesn’t lead them into the lobby right away, not until he shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around Lucie’s shoulders. 

“To avoid uncomfortable questions,” he explains, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt to hide the stained cuffs. 

The garment dwarfs her, cuffs stretching comically past her fingertips and lapels settling high on her neck, but that seems to be the point. The dark fabric covers the worst of her injuries and disguises her torn clothes as long as she’s mindful of her motions.

A hand settles on her mid-back, guiding her through the entryway as the automatic doors shudder and slide open for them.

The light of the lobby is bright after so much time spent under a cloudy night sky. Her eyes blink against it until she can see the sparkle of quartz beneath her feet that gives the faux marble tiles a golden finish. The air in here is stale, with the distinct damp smell that all structures take on in Louisiana after a decade or two. Built at the height of the roaring 20s, La Maison Blanche is the pinnacle of Jazz Age opulence. From the brassy, fan shapes of the art déco light fixtures, jeweled-toned wallpaper, and heavy discolored curtains, the entire place gives off a distinct out-of-time feel. Even the doorman, Murphy, in his gold-edged, red button-down jacket seems to have stepped right out of a low-budget Great Gatsby.

He greets them as they enter with a smile for Lucie and a wary gaze at the man at her side.

“Good evening, Lucie,” he says, seated behind the concierge counter. There’s no word of welcome for Elijah, only a nod of acknowledgment. Lucie’s heart warms a fraction at his protectiveness. 

The portly older man has shown her nothing but kindness since she checked in, showing her to her room with stories about his childhood spent in the city, lighting up like the Fourth of July upon finding out she had been born in New Orleans as well. He had a daughter her age, off at college somewhere on the East Coast. Studying music, he’d told her, beaming with pride. She’d also learned his wife had passed two years ago and with his daughter so far away, it wasn’t a stretch to guess he was lonely, pouring his heart into his work and the revolving door of hotel customers.

“Hi, Murph,” Lucie replies, jacket sleeve sliding down her arm as she gives him a little wave. “Slow night?”

He hums in consideration, fingers smoothing down the bristly hairs of his salt and pepper (but mostly salt mustache). “You could say that. Not much in the way of guests. You get caught out there in the rain? You look half drowned.” 

The answer is already apparent from the damp strands of hair that cling to her face, a halo of frizz blooming in all its glory. Though the jab is subtle and delivered with all the precision of Southern manners, it’s clear who Murph faults for her bedraggled appearance. 

“We were out on the town when we were swept up in the sudden deluge,” Elijah explains, taking the rebuke in stride.

Murph huffs. “Glad you stayed out of trouble. I don’t know what it is about weather like this that brings out all the miscreants.”

Elijah, who had been moving to usher Lucie toward the elevator, freezes. Turning back to the older (but not really) man, he asks, “Did something happen here?”

Murph leans forward in the rolling desk chair, lacing his fingers together as rests his arms against the counter. “Some out-of-towners, come in here kicking up a fuss and causing a problem,” he shrugs. “Looked like they’d been roughing in the backwoods for a bit.”

Lucie’s breath hitches in her throat. “Did they hurt anyone? Are you alright?”

“There was no one here but me. Gina’s got a sick baby at home,” he says. “You know how young men are: cock-sure and looking for a fight.” He looks pointedly at Elijah. “Wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. Besides, I always keep the old twelve gauge on hand.” He pats the underside of the counter. “This is New Orleans, after all.” 

She doesn’t miss the way the vampire beside her goes statue still or the subtle way he positions himself between her and the entrance. “Do you know what they wanted?”

The soft tufts of gray hair around his ears flutters as he shakes his head. “Seemed pretty adamant about getting upstairs, but I can’t say what for. They scattered like roaches when I threatened to call the cops. Strung out on drugs, if you want my guess.” 

"Do you know what they looked like?" Elijah asks evenly. 

The doorman considers, lips pressed together. "Strange. One real tall, dressed like he'd just come from one of those goth club. The other looked like he was trying out for Saturday Night Fever."

Lucie and Elijah exchange a glance, loaded with meaning. 

“It’s safe as can be now. You don’t need to worry, Lucie,” he chimes in, mistaking the meaning behind their silence. 

“I know,” she says with a strained smile. “Thanks for looking out for me, but I…uh…just realized I left my wallet back at the restaurant.” 

She pats her pockets for emphasis. 

“I told you to put it back in your purse,” Elijah replies, feigning a good-natured jab. “We’d better go get it before they close.”

Lucie nods, glancing back to the doorman. “Thanks for looking out, Murph. I’ll see you later.”

“You take care out there. I’ll be off by the time you get back, but Charlie will be here. You just give him a buzz if you need anything.”

Exchanging goodbyes, the pair steps back out onto the street. The storm has ramped up in intensity, rain lashing against the ground and the covered overhang. Elijah opens the car door and ushers her in before rounding the vehicle. Settling into the driver’s seat, wrists resting against the wheel, he turns to face her. “You cannot stay here.”

She knows that, of course. And she agrees, but the command needles at her already frayed nerves. “Any chance you know of some super secret, vampire-proof hideout we can go to?”

The words come out sharper than she intends, and she sighs, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes.

There's no immediate response. It tells her he doesn't have an answer

Then it comes to her, crashing into her lap, and she winces, not wanting to put a voice to the idea.

She sighs, resigned. “I know a place.”

____

Elijah follows Lucie’s directions to the Lower Garden District. Keen ears catch her pulse. It seems to race harder with each turn signal, each mile passing under the tires. It forces him to wonder where it is that she’s taking them.

By the time they turn off of St. Charles and onto the tree-lined tunnel of a sleepy residential street, her heart is hammering like a hummingbird. The car slows, a mix of Creole Cottages, Double Shotguns, and Victorian Townhomes slipping by in his periphery. 

He remembers this neighborhood, back when it had been little more than a ramshackle cluster of shacks in the shadow of the palatial Greek revival mansions only a few blocks over. The entire Garden District had cropped up around one central point, the handful of square city blocks that made up Lafayette Cemetery. They pass by the high gates as they wind deeper into the neighborhood. It’s the second time he’s been by it tonight and this time, he’s thankful to let it slip into the review mirror without stopping. He wonders for only a moment if the witches are still there, keeping vigil over their fallen sister. Then the cemetery vanishes from sight and he allows the thought to disappear along with it. 

His attention turns to the girl fidgeting in the passenger’s seat. He glances at her, but Lucie's gaze remains fixed forward, her eyes unseeing even as she murmurs that he should take a right. Her face is blank, but he does not miss the way her fingers pull and twist at the fabric of his jacket. 

“Are you alright?” Elijah asks. She takes a moment to answer, lost in whatever thoughts are whirling around in her head. He breaks his gaze from the road to look at her more fully. He sees the instant where the question lands. Her head pivots towards the sound of his voice, eyes wide and distant. 

Her heartbeat stutters, then evens out, though still fast. She must not be able to trust her voice, for she nods, knowing he’ll catch it. And he does, answering with one of his own. He asks no more questions, doesn’t pry, even as she points to a home on the right side and he pulls the vehicle to a stop against the curb out front.

There’s no light on when Elijah helps her out of the car. Her constitution has improved steadily since they left the River Walk. She wavers only for a second when she steps out, but he imagines that has much more to do with whatever trepidation is plaguing her than any physical side effect. Her skin is less peaked, the flush returning to her cheeks. Elijah has to admit to a small amount of relief, spending the first half of their time together debating whether to take her to a hospital, which would have been undoubtedly complicated. The set of her jaw is determined and her fingers are only trembling a little when she takes his proferred hand.

They make the quick journey across the tiny front lawn and up the steps of the elevated Central Hall cottage in relative darkness. The sensor trips when they reach the top landing and the flood light illuminates the deep-set porch.

He releases her hand, allowing her to lead the way. It’s clear that whatever her connection is to this place, she’s battling a maelstrom of emotions. He’s determined to let her engage with it on her own terms. 

Near one of the tan pillars, be watches her as she lifts the welcome mat, slides the plate back on the wall scone. She finds what she’s looking for underneath a terracotta flower pot with a huff of triumph. He spots the glint of a key and feels a flicker of doubt about whether he can trust her determination of safe places if hiding a key on the porch is her idea of security. But he lets the matter rest for now because she pauses in before the front door, peeling and forest green. 

He recognizes the posture, the slow inhale and even release of breath, knows she’s steeling herself as the key turns in the lock. She jiggles it, leveraging her weight against it. He’s halfway through an offer to help when the door swings wide and she takes her first tentative step beyond the darkened threshold.

He crosses the porch in two strides, halting just before the doorframe, an invisible barrier preventing him from entering.

She turns around with a quizzical look and then understanding dawning on her delicate features. “Oh right, vampire.”

Yet she hesitates, assessing him from head to toe and then fixing her gaze on his eyes, searching the depths as if trying to discern the nature of his soul. He does not fault her for it. She seems to have good instincts, from all he's seen so far.

Her teeth worry at her bottom lip and finally, as if against her better judgment, she says, “Please, come in.”

There's a shift, the release of that particular magical energy, and follows her into the house. She closes the door behind him, the lock sliding into place with a click of finality. He almost reminds her that a piece of metal won’t do much to protect her from the supernatural, but he holds his tongue. The girl has been through enough for one night. To deprive her of something that might bring her some peace of mind -no matter how small- would be needlessly cruel.

And so he turns his attention to his new surroundings, brought into sharper clarity as she flips a light switch somewhere just beyond his shoulder.

The home opens on a main hallway that gives the architectural style its name. Its passage is narrow without feeling cramped, rich eggplant walls rising on either side of the pine floors. His shoes echo against the wood which is light in places from centuries of foot traffic, but the planks remain a deep, lovely brown. 

She turns to him, arms folding protectively over her chest. Whether in an act of self-consciousness or at his intrusion upon a sacred space, he isn’t sure. They both hover near the front door, locked in an awkward sort of impasse.

Elijah is the first to break the silence, clearing his throat. “Perhaps there’s a first aid kit?” he ventures, gesturing towards her neck when she seems confused.

“Oh, yeah. In the kitchen, I think.” She inclines her head, a wordless message to follow. And he obeys, careful to keep a few paces behind and his footfall loud enough for her to hear. 

They progress down the hall and his gaze slides from one side to the other, taking in the decor. A smattering of hangings cover both walls. Framed paintings selected by someone with a discerning eye for quality, dried flowers, and hanging crystals he imagines capture the light and cast the walls in rainbows in the late afternoon. But it’s the photographs that catch his eyes, that add the touch of the personal. 

The first one he passes is a small print, color washed out from sunlight within the wooden frame. Four children stand in front of a fountain in Audubon Park, arms wrapped around each other in a chain of broad smiles. The two girls on the end are mirror images, identical from their freckles to the long copper braids that hang over their overalls. Next to them is another girl, smaller than the first two. Dark eyes crinkle around the corners and her front teeth were missing. On her other side is a boy, lanky and taller than the other children by at least a head. 

Elijah wonders at the people in the photo, frozen in this vignette as perpetual children, but now surely adults with lives and aspirations. 

He moves on, following the photos like a visual narrative of someone else’s life. Graduation photos and birthday parties, mostly of the dark-haired boy and girl, but the twins as well. And a woman with thick auburn hair and stern green eyes set in an oval face. Pausing there, he scans the features of her thin mouth, and her high cheekbones with a dull sort of recognition. He’s still trying to make sense of it when Lucie’s head pops from a doorway at the end of the hall and he realizes he’s fallen behind. 

Leaving the hall behind, he follows her into the kitchen.

Lucie LeMarche as she flits about the room, a contrast to the stationary position he's taken up against the far wall. Pale yellow cupboards open and close with a dull thud as she searches for a first aid kit. Despite her unease and her radiating anxiety, she seems to belong here. As natural a fixture in the home as the latticed window above the sink or the beams holding up the roof. 

Something akin to alienation wells up in him, a profound sensation of being out of place. It’s as if the house itself is reacting to his presence, resenting his intrusion upon it. 

“Found it,” Lucie proclaims, straining to reach a red tin box nestled on the highest shelf. 

Elijah stamps down the unsettled feeling and moves  to assist. “Allow me.”

____

Lucie winces against the sting of the antiseptic as Elijah wipes the cotton pad against the sensitive skin on her neck. His jaw is tight, dark eyes narrowed in focus as he attends to the wound with the precision of a trauma ward surgeon. He tends to it with the same care he’d used to address the cuts and gashes on her arms, her leg. 

She watches from her perch on the counter as he sets the soiled pad on the table behind him, his makeshift triage center. It joins the other red smudged cotton discards.

“It doesn’t bother you?” she plucks up the courage to ask, curiosity overcoming shyness at his proximity. When he quirks a brow, she adds, “All the blood, I mean.”

“No, not anymore. I might have struggled once, as all new vampires. But I’ve had centuries to perfect the art of controlling my hunger.”

Lucie half-nods, unsure sure what to say to that. Content to leave at that, Elijah returns to the wound at her neck with a fresh pad, and they fall into silence. 

The pressure is gentle beneath the familiar sting. The side of his hand ghosts against her skin and she responds with an involuntary shiver. He is unperturbed as a consummate professional, even as his breath fans against her collarbones. 

The silence is oppressive and the questions that have only been building since they met bubbling over the surface. 

“You said we had a lot to talk about,” she prompts, struggling to find the right approach. 

He doesn’t answer until the work is through, cleaning up the mess and washing his hands before sinking into a metal-framed kitchen chair. 

“We do,” he concedes with a nod. He weighs his words before asking, “What do you know of my family?”

That they were the root of all evil. That Klaus terrorized this town while his siblings watched on before fleeing as Royal Street burned. 

Instead, she says, “I know you’re the first vampires, created by a powerful witch, and that you helped build New Orleans before disappearing.”

“Tactfully put,” he says. Lucie isn’t sure what inflection she hears under the even delivery. “As you know, it’s been a century since my family left this place and I had never intended to return. That is until a witch lured my wayward brother here.”

The revelation of Klaus’ presence in town and how he got there land like twin blows.

Dread makes a home in her belly as she asks, breathlessly, “What witch?”

But she knows the answer, knows what he’s going to say even as he tells her, “Jane-Anne Deveraux.”

Her head swims, the implications rippling out like a stone dropped off a pier. 

A few pieces fall into place at once. Monique’s death and her mother’s desperate gambit to cast a spell. Marcel’s brutal retaliation. All of it is inextricably linked to Klaus’ arrival in town-

“But why?” 

“Witches brought Niklaus back to town in hopes that he might topple the supernatural hierarchy that’s allowed Marcel to keep the covens in subjugation.”

“That explains why he killed her,” Lucie says. “But not how she was able to convince your brother to come here in the first place.”

Something akin to surprise flashes in his dark eyes, like he’s seeing her for the first time. “No, it does not. During the duration of my stay, I have learned that the witches have gained some kind of leverage over Niklaus. But there are still questions that need answering.”

“You mean like how Marcel Gerard went from vampire mob boss to supreme overlord of the French Quarter overnight?”

His head tilts a fraction to the right, considering, and she’s struck by what a strange sight he is in the kitchen of her childhood home. What’s stranger still is that he doesn’t seem that out of place. 

“Precisely. As well as what events precipitated this whole sorry situation. I find myself curious as to what could prompt such rash actions from the witch faction.”

Lucie knows the answer, knows deep in her gut that the Harvest Ritual started this whole affair and that the answer to Marcel’s secret weapon are connected somehow. 

It’s a revelation she isn’t ready to share, not until she knows what it means and what the man across from her wants. She shutters her expression but not quick enough it seems, for Elijah rights himself in his chair, keen as a bloodhound at the scent. 

“You know something,” he states, gaze burning into her. “What is it?”

She goes still, caught in his sights. Resentment flares. She doesn’t appreciate feeling cornered. “I’ve answered plenty of your questions. I think it’s only fair that you answer mine.”

He hasn’t released the thread of conversation, she knows that, but he shifts in his chair, crossing his ankle over his knee, and says, “Very well. What would you ask of me?”

“You knew my name,” she starts, not missing the sharpness behind his pretense of forbearance or the renewed crackle of danger around him. “You’ve been following me. I want to know why.”

His hands rest against the boomerang pattern of the table, long elegant fingers folding over each other. “You were not the only one hiding in the shadows when Marcel Gerard took Jane-Anne’s body. I heard your heartbeat, knew Marcel allowed you to escape. I wanted to know why.”

Her fingers wrap around the edge of the countertop, scarcely daring to breathe. “And what did you find out?”

His eyes lock on hers as he leans in, the motion almost imperceptible. 

“Very little,” he admits, and she exhales. “I know your name is Lucretia LeMarche. Your parents were both professors at Tulane until their death. At which point your great-aunt, a prominent member of the Garden District coven, took custody of you. And that her death brought you back here, despite your apparent disconnect from the witch community in New Orleans.”

“So it was you,” she says. It chafes, listening to the broadest strokes of her life repeated back to her as if read from a textbook. “Watching me.”

“Yes. I thought it best to keep tabs on you until I could determine your level of involvement in all this.”

“And?” 

“And,” he stretches the word out. “I’ve decided to offer you a deal.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but he cuts her off. “Please, allow me the courtesy of hearing me out.”

Her lips press closed. She nods at him to continue.

“You are a witch with intimate knowledge of this city and the inner workings of the nine covens. However, you lack any of the protection the witch community affords to its members, putting you in a rather vulnerable position.”

“Is that a threat, Elijah?”

“It is a fact, Miss LeMarche,” he says matter-of-factly. “Just as it is a fact that had I not intervened earlier this evening you would be dead.” 

Her cheeks flush and she has to admit the truth in his statement.

“So, what are you suggesting?”

“Your position, however precarious, also offers a unique opportunity. You can move through the circles of the city’s supernatural factions without the burden of any particular loyalties.”

“But as you just pointed out, I’m a sitting duck,” she interjects, following the path he’s laying out. 

“Yes, though not quite in those terms.” his mouth twitches at the corner. “That is where my offer comes into play. What I propose is this: you be my eyes and ears in the Quarter and, in turn, I will not only extend to you my protection but also any resources at my disposal to help you figure out who sent the men who came after you this evening.”

She says nothing, just watches him from her place on the counter. A part of her wants to say yes, that small foolish fraction of her heart that tells her to trust, that begs her to not be alone. 

She stamps it down, remembering the long line of witches that had been collateral damage in the game of vampire politics. He’s not a savior, not an unlikely ally. He’s a jailer, another person holding the key to a cage she’s fought tooth and claw to be rid of.

Anger crashes over her, a sudden and unexpected tidal wave of resentment. At Violette for all her secrets, for dying and robbing her of her guidance. At Arabella for withholding the truth and pulling her into all of this at the same time. And at Elijah for sparing her life and darkening her doorstep, for hiding his motives behind heroics and deals.

She hops off the counter, standing in front of him with hard eyes. 

But she feels it still -beneath the anger- that small thread of safety, of trust, even as she tells him, “No.” 

“No?” he repeats, a hint of surprise as he wraps his lips around the syllable. 

“No,” she says again, firmer this time like she can make the both of them believe it.

“Might I ask why?” 

She bats the delicate thread between them away like a cobweb. “What guarantee do I have that you’ll keep your word or that I'm safe from you? You’ve already admitted to following me.”

He blinks, arching a sharp brow as if he’d misheard her. “Need I remind you I just saved your life?”

“You did,” she acknowledges. “And I’m grateful.”

“And that isn’t enough to prove my good intentions?” 

“No,” she says, and the chair protests as he rises to his full height before her. He towers overhead, grave and cold like marble. She wonders if she’s made a terrible miscalculation. 

“I see.” His posture straightens in resolution, a picture of cold professionalism. “And what is your plan, if I may ask? To hole up in this cottage as you did at the hotel and hope that no one comes to carry you off in the night or that Marcel doesn't kill you for the magic you used earlier this evening?”

Her temper flares, rising to meet his. Her jaw clenches hard enough that it feels as if her teeth might break.

The judgment smarts, both in how close it comes to the truth and also from the delivery. Original or not, this man doesn’t know her, doesn’t understand the agony or the joy between the neat facts he’s learned of her life. She knows she should keep her mouth shut, that's she toeing a very treacherous line, but she won’t let him shame her, not here. 

She squares her shoulders, tipping her head back to look him in the eye. “It’s late. And unless you have any more glaring flaws of mine that you’d like to point out, I think you should go.”

It’s a challenge. They both know it. She’s testing the waters to see if he’ll comply with her request or force her hand and prove himself unworthy of trust. She isn’t sure how long they stay locked in their tense tableau, but he relents first. His posture eases and he steps back, allowing air into the room once more.

“Then I suppose that leaves me only one option,” he says with finality. He’s angry at her. She can tell by the rigidity of his shoulders, the tick in his jaw. Yet, he doesn’t allow it to carry him away.

“And that is?”

“I’m afraid I have no choice but to honor your decision — misguided though I believe it to be.” He turns his back to her then, and she follows his retreat down the hall. Hand on the doorknob, he pauses. “I will respect your wishes, Miss LeMarche. But as someone who saved your life, I’m asking you one last time to tell me what you know. For my family’s safety.”

“Is this the part where you compel me to do it, anyway?” she asks, trying to hold on to her anger with both hands. 

“I think you and I both know that won’t work,” he smiles, or maybe it’s a grimace. “I recommend you don’t return to your hotel. Someone will be along tomorrow with your things. Consider it a parting gift.”

She’s stunned into silence, unable to do anything but watch as he opens the door. He’s through the threshold before she calls out, “Elijah, wait.”

He meets her eyes over his shoulder in a wordless question. 

She steels herself for what she’s about to say, for the act of treason it feels like she's going to commit. “The Harvest Ritual,” she says, voice clipped. “Start there and I’m sure you’ll find your answers.”

He searches her face, and her eyes for a long moment and then inclines his head. “Thank you. Take care of yourself, Miss LeMarche.”

Then, the door clicks shut behind him, leaving Lucie alone in the empty house. 

[ashes-and-ruins]

concept: i’m in chicago, walking the riverwalk. the trees are just starting to turn colors. i love how the buildings warm me by wrapping me up. i am walking hand in hand with the person i adore most and we are laughing about something stupid. we have an apartment together. we talk about our dream house all the time. i am a successful author and we are both pursuing our dreams. the air has that chill we both love. we kiss over steaming cups of tea. i hold her in the early morning light. we pretend the drone of the cars is actually the crashing ocean waves and the beach is right outside our window. i am going to propose to her soon. i hope she says yes. i love her more than anything on the earth. everything in my life has been worth it because of her.

[alia15]

Chicago, 2023.

I once blogged about a quick work trip I took to this city in June 2018, and mentioned how I fell in love with it at the time. I fell in love with it so much, in fact, that it was always on my list for another visit at some point.

Well, five years later, I did get to go back -- and this time, with my favorite travel partner! We crammed a LOT in within three full days in Chicago, but I wanted to share our faves/highlights from the long weekend, in case you're thinking of visiting:

Must-Do's

A ball game at Wrigley, if you can! Leo is a baseball fanatic, so the goal is always to see a world renowned stadium wherever we travel in the US. You'll get to see a historic ballpark, the famous "seventh inning stretch" where the crowd sings "Take Me Out to the Ballgame," and even get to experience some of the cool bars and restaurants in the area, including one with a batting cage inside.

Architectural boat tour -- can't recommend it enough! Chicago looks very similar to New York City with its amazing skyscrapers/buildings, but as a New Yorker I gotta say: their buildings are SO much nicer than ours. So much history, incredible designs, and so aesthetically pleasing (minus that comically large TRUMP tower that lurks over the river). Doing a boat tour on the river allows you to take in all the gorgeous views, get a history lesson on the city and its architecture, AND even have a cocktail while doing it.

Navy Pier. We didn't have a LOT of time here, but if we had another day we would have went back. Fun area to walk around, explore, and even get on a ferris wheel, which we did ;)

Food tours! Leo and I LOVE these and do them often, even in New York where we live. It's a fantastic way to see a city/neighborhood, experience it's culinary specialties, meet people and....well, get your steps in. We did Bobby's Bike Hike on our first night there and got to see all the big landmarks (the "Bean," the Chicago theater) and try all the quintessential Chicago foods: a deep-dish pizza (loved it), a Chicago hot dog and an Italian beef. YES CHEF.

Restaurants/Bars

Girl & the Goat. Don't miss it if you're a foodie, love a trendy spot, and love a "different" kind of menu (one of the dishes we ordered was "pig face). The food was out of this world -- along with the service -- and even though we were seated very close to other patrons and the noise level was up there, this was a huge highlight for us. Great meal, dessert AND cocktails.

Rooftop bars: Cindy's and LondonHouse. The former has a great view of Millennium Park and The Bean, and the latter overlooks the river and all the surrounding buildings. We had drinks at both and highly recommend for the views alone!

The Franklin Room. Another great dinner here (River North area) in a more unassuming spot that felt like a more local, neighborhood joint but had great food.

The Riverwalk: we spent a lot of time here and bopped in and out of so many places -- I recommend The Northman Beer & Cider garden which is a cute outdoor brewery area, River Roast (we came for a drink/charcuterie but looked like a nice restaurant with great water views), and TacoRio. There are so many others we didn't get to stop in that looked great: Beatnik, Tiny Tapp, City Winery, O'Briens. On a nice day you really can't go wrong enjoying the scene and you can easily access all the locations.

We stayed at the Kimpton Monaco downtown which also has a restaurant attached (Fisk & Co.) and enjoyed our stay there. We were in a prime location and the room was nice, plus the staff.

Chicago is an awesome city, and if you've never been, I would DEFINITELY add it to your list.

XO,

AA

[amnotaqueen]

The Difficulties of The Day (Aug 9th)

Today was full of issues as usual. We went to Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico. As we walked through the cave, we marveled at what we saw. As Jehovah's Witnesses, we believe in a Creator who designed life and everything. He is the Maker of the oceans, the mountains, the caves, the skies, etc. As we walked through, my husband made a comment to the effect that Jehovah designed each rock formation, each crevice, each hole, each nook that we saw down there millions,billions, trillions or whatever years ago and it looked exactly the same as we were seeing it at that point in time as it did when God first created them. I told him that how it looks now down there was not exactly how it looked thousands of years ago. I tried to explain to him that land topography, landscape, and physical appearrance of the earth and its structure are changing constantly. He refuted me saying that the only changes to earth's structures are due to things that mankind has done to alter it.

He doesn't believe that the earth's appearance is changed by wind or water erosion. For him, saying that over many, many years rocks have been worn down, smoothed, and re- shaped over time by dripping and running water and calcification deposits was like saying there is no Designer. I do not see it that way. Yes, Jehovah created or designed the earth with its mountains, trees, rivers, caves, rocks, but he also designed natural processes like rain and blowing winds that slowly change the appearrance of our landscape over time. Not all changes are due to something mankind has done. He believes that the rock is too hard to be molded or worn down by a little water. I told him that the sky and clouds are changing appearance daily, hourly, even by the minute, constantly due to natural processes. It didn't matter what I said. I was wrong and he was right.

We were given instructions by the park ranger not to touch the walls or rock structures. Just the oil on our hands can harm the preservation of the structures. My husband was touching them, rubbing on them. In front of our son, too whom we want to be compliant with our own rules and rules at school. He is definitely a do as I say, not as I do type of guy. Rules do not apply to him, he thinks.

My husband had not brought long sleeves for our hike in the cave and he is usually cold. He had not researched anything about where we were going. I brought a jacket he could wear while I wore a hoodie. I gave him my jacket. He acted appreciative, but I noticed that he never put it on inside. He didn't want me to think that he needed me for anything. He didn't want to make it look like he had been irresponsible and unprepared while I had been prepared.

Later on, we took our son to the Riverwalk to let him swim in the river. He had fun for the most part. I did notice that my son wanted me to stay nearby. I completely knew why. His father had previously tried to 'teach him to swim' by forcefully pulling him to deeper water and just letting him go while he is terrified and panicking so that he could figure it out on his own. He physically held me back from assisting our son on one occasion he did this when we were swimming in a lake in Georgia.

I made sure to stand by to be able to help my son if need be. It was like, the whole time he was intent on making our son go into the deeper water. It was shallow enough for our son to stand most of the way out until you got right to within a few inches of the rope. Our son was not comfortable and I was not trying to force him to do anything that he was petrified to do. My husband needs to control. He needs to make people do what he wants them to do. He wasn't going to just be happy playing with our son having a good time.

My son could not make him happy unless and until he met the challenge put upon him by his father. Most kids want daddy's approval. My son is no different. He tried very hard to please his dad. I had to pull him away from his dad when he had grabbed him and was pulling him against his will to the deeper side. He jumped in the water on the deeper end eventually, though. I made sure that he knew I would be there. I held his hand at times, and I told him repeatedly that he didn't have to if he didn't want to.

Now, our son didn't eat very much at breakfast. He ate only half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a fruit cup for lunch. We walked at least 2 miles or more in the cavern. He burned a lot of calories playing in the water and on the playground. We were going to get something to eat around 5:30 pm but my son was complaining about the sand in his swim trunks. The feeling of the sand was bothersome to him, so much so that even though he was hungry, he said he wanted to go to the hotel to bathe before going somewhere to eat. Plus my husband wasn't dressed appropriately, so we had to go back to the hotel. We were planning to drive back to the Caverns so we could see the bat flight. We didn't have time to get dinner to eat before going, so I gave our son a snack bar and some celery hoping to tide him over until after we saw the bats. He only ate some of the snack bar and celery before we left while I was in the shower. I tried to give him the rest ( it was just a small piece remaining) when we were still in the parking lot getting ready to walk where we needed to go to see the bats. Although he was expressing he was hungry, he was saying he didn't want the snack bar. I implored him to go ahead and eat it because I knew he was hungry. He said no and I asked him why he wouldn't eat it if he was hungry. He pointed to his stomach and said that his stomach was big. He was looking at his dad when he said that. So, I believe my husband has been discouraging him from eating, telling him that his stomach is getting big, to not eat the snack bars mommy gives him. I told my son right then and there that his stomach was NOT big. That he can have a snack and it's ok because he had not eaten much all day and had been very active. I then asked my husband if he told our son that his stomach was big. He said no. I don't believe him.

Well, when we got there to see the bat flight, it was explained that no noise should be made so that the bats won't get freaked out and stop coming out of the cave. Knowing my son is prone to impulsivity, can't sit still, can't be quiet long, loves attention, loves to be loud, I knew this would be extremely challenging for him. So I used all the tools at my disposal to get him on board with being quiet and not disturb the occasion for others. He was already tired and hungry. So I was telling him that if he remained quiet, I would give him a fruit snack and let him have my cellphone afterwards to watch a movie. He had been asking all day to have my cellphone and I told him 'no'. If he remained quiet to see the bats he could have it to watch something. It worked. He was on board. We got a chance to see the bats leave the cave.

Well, on the way out, going back to the car I felt bad because my son was hungry and had his dinner delayed because I, especially, wanted to see the bats. As promised, I gave him a pack of fruit snacks. It is a package of small gummie pieces, about 8 pieces in a little pack, about 60 calories. Feeling that the snack package was small and being so pleased with his efforts of being quiet after telling us he was hungry and tired before the flight started, I gave him another fruit snack pack. His father protested saying that he wasn't going to eat dinner having the snacks. I told him that he didn't each much today but had so much activity. I gave it to our son anyway because, as I told him, 'I already opened it.' My husband snatched the fruit snack from our son. Our son started to cry, asking why he couldn't have it. I asked my husband to give me the pack he took from our son. He didn't want to, but I told him I wasn't going to give it back to him. I mainly didn't want him to throw it away. When he gave it to me, there was only one or two pieces left in the pack. My son had already eaten most of it because he was so hungry.

It seems, this is the point where we descended into the most toxicity we had experienced all day. When we got in the car, my son was expecting me to fulfill the other part of what I said. If he was quiet during bat flight, he could watch something on my phone. Well, I gave him my phone because that is how positive reinforcement works. As soon as my husband saw he had my phone to watch something, he flipped out, screamed at our son in a rage, and snatched the phone away from him. My son, screamed back at him in a rage, in tears.

When my son screamed at him, it sent him into a fury. He had been driving down the road, but stops to pull over the car to the side of the road. It's getting dark outside, too. He pulls over, yelling and screaming. I tried to intervene. I wanted to tell him about the arrangement or agreement I had made with our son to get him to be quiet and patient during the bat flight. I said, 'let me tell you something.' He said, 'No! Don't tell me anything!' Basically, tells me to shut up. He ends up storming out of the car and opening the rear passenger door. He screams some more at our son who is scared and trying to apologize or say he will stop so that his dad will calm down. I see how mad he is and I'm concerned so while he is screaming and ranting at our son I start recording him on my phone.

Outside eyes, having outsiders aware of his behavior is the only thing that influences his behavior a lot of the times. He wants to keep a certain image or mask on for others to see. Immediately, when I start recording him on video, his volume drops, he is no longer screaming. He becomes so infuriated that he can't do what he wanted to do because I was recording him that he snatches the phone from my hand.

I grabbed a second phone I had ( the first is one without internet service provider and the second has an internet provider) I struggled to turn it on ( we had to turn off our phones during the bat flight). My husband threatened to smash the phone he took from me. I reminded him that the phone he threatened to smash was one purchased by myself with my own money. He gave it back to me. When I was recording, he got quiet. But when I turned the recording off, he started bad mouthing me talking about he was going to give me a reason to use my recordings. I told him to do what he felt was necessary.

The park ranger stated that the speed limit was 30 mph driving at night and to drive carefully due to certain animals in the area. My husband was driving 45/50 miles per hour. I reminded him that we were told to drive 30 mph on the way out. He ignored me. I felt very unsafe.

We headed to eat dinner at a Chinese buffet. Hardly a word spoken between us. My son was saying, 'Be happy daddy.' He just wanted to be on good terms with his daddy again. My son was trying to talk to him. My son asked him something as we pulled into the Chinese restaurant parking lot (I forgot what he asked) but my husband said to him, 'Don't be stupid! Shut up!' My son didn't hear or understand his father's rude words and was smiling as he asked his dad what he said. I think he thought daddy was talking to him again and was getting happy. I told my son not to ask his dad anything at that time.

We ate. Afterwards we were supposed to go back out to the Caverns so I could see the stars in the sky. The night sky is supposed to be clear and the stars very visible in the area we were supposed to go. It was the plan to see the night sky long before we left for New Mexico. I had told him I had not ever seen starry skies like those I'd seen in pictures online. He said he would take me weeks ago. Earlier that day he said he would take me. After swimming, he said he would take me back to the Caverns to see the stars after we ate dinner, when the sky got darker. But instead of going to see the starry skies, he drove us back to the hotel. I asked if he had forgotten to go back to see the stars. All he said was, 'no.'

Then he was good. We got to our room. He was soon sounding playful with my son again. He asked somebody, I don't know if he was talking to me or our son or himself, if the TV only had one channel. He played some sports videos loudly on his phone. Then he laid down and went to sleep, content at having gotten even with me in his mind, inflicting his revenge, hurting me as he imagined I had hurt him (by giving our son fruit snack gummies when he was obviously hungry? Or by trying to defend our son from his nonsensical rages?). His way is not the Christian way of turning the other cheek, returning evil for evil to no one.

[spark-glow]

2, 7, 23, 32, 41, and 42 for Secilia (:

― SECILIA MARINO .

2.) Do they wear perfume/cologne? If so, what scents do they prefer? -

Secilia might as well own stock in the perfume trade at this point. As one might expect, she's very fond of natural scents, especially ones that're similar to the ocean or bodies of water. Pink hibiscus, evening riverwalk, bayside cedar. Stuff like that. This is both for the allure factor, and to also cover up the scent of anything that might be lingering after feeding.

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7.) Do they have any unusual fears? -

Her greatest fear has gone far beyond that by this point, devolving into a pure unbridled delusion. She is fully convinced that she is slowly dying, and that is the entire driving force for why she does what she does. She is unimaginably terrified of this 'fact', and will stop at nothing to change this fate that she believes she has.

Though, if you know Secilia, then that's not new information. What might be new is that she also, funnily enough, really does not like magnets. I don't know if i'd particularly call it a fear or just something she has a strong distaste for, but they still make her feel Bad on a deep level since strong ones hardcore mess with her ampullae of lorenzini.

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23.) Would they ever betray someone for money? -

Funnily enough, I don't really think so.

It's not the betrayal part. She'd happily stab just about anyone in the back (except for Laz of course). It's just that she just... doesn't personally care about money. She cares about keeping track of the gang's money, but she doesn't care if she owns a cent or not.

Truth is, she'd betray you for far less than a few dollars.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━���━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

32.) If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be? -

Change something about herself? Oh, no. She's perfectly happy with her looks, her personality, her place in life. She wouldn't change any of it for the world! ( See question 7 for a more accurate answer. )

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41.) Do they learn from their mistakes? -

On some level, yes, but it's very controlled.

She learns from every encounter that goes wrong, and she learns meticulously. She will pour over every single detail until she can totally and entirely diagnose the root of the problem, and then she will NEVER make that mistake again. She MUST appear human, and it must be done PERFECTLY. NO ONE can be the wiser.

However, I get the feeling that she is never allowed to learn from her bigger mistakes on purpose. Because if she did, then she might be able to one day wake up and realize that she's on a road to nowhere and Laz is the one sending her down it. So, every situation is discussed in a very specific way, and she is manipulated into never really seeing the bigger picture. Just the smaller ones.

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42.) Can they speak multiple languages? If yes, which all do they speak and why? -

Secilia wasn't living with humans long enough to learn more than English and a large portion of Spanish. She certainly could branch out further if she wanted to, but well... Things happened.

Being multilingual helps with business.

[thestarrynightslover]

How to Say I Love You

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,582

Warnings: Smut implied.

Summary:  One day, Jay takes it upon himself to be an extra-cute boyfriend. The reason? It takes (y/n) a while to find out.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Posting super late because the day was hard. So, just some more Jay fluff to brighten our days. Hope you like it!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

As soon as you woke up, you felt light kisses being pressed to all of your very exposed skin, and an inevitable smile came to your lips.

“Good morning, princess.” Jay whispered in your ear with a husky voice.

“Good morning for you too, baby.” You answered him while bringing his face closer to yours. On that movement, before you could kiss him, you caught a glance of your bedside clock. “Oh my God, Jay! Look at the time! I thought we’d agreed to get as much sleep as we could after last night!” You quickly reprehended him. “Or have you forgotten that both of us still have to go to work today?” You asked, trying to sound annoyed at him when the most you managed to do was breathe out was a moan, as he nibbed your earlobe.

“Oh, I know how much you like sleeping, babygirl. But I know that there are a few things you’d give up your sleep for.” He stated in a very sexy tone.

“And what exactly makes you think that you’re one of those things?” You teased your boyfriend, hoping he’d respond to it like you thought he would.

“Ah, just a little something,” he teased back while slowly putting his hand between your legs, not even bothering to lift the hem of the shirt you were wearing, “like this.”

“Oh, Jay…” And, just like that, you were completely fine with waking up early.

                                                          ---

Throughout the day, you just couldn’t keep the smile off your face, as your boyfriend took it upon himself to be the cutest person in the world. Why? You had no idea. All you knew was that he'd gotten the day off but, since you couldn't the same, he'd decided to go to work nonetheless.

His romantics for no apparent reason started with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a note that read:

“Will you be my lunch date today? *blinking face*

P.S.: 12:00 - 13:00 is all I have. Sorry, doll :(

Meet me at our spot?

⎼ Your bae.”

He used bae. If he wasn’t so cute, and if you didn’t love him so much, you would have cringed at the choice, and he knew it. Ah, that man...

A few hours after that, you went to meet Jay for lunch at your spot ⎼ which was one of the benches along the Riverwalk, where you’d first met ⎼, absolutely decided on calling him out for being so mushy. But, as you walked closer towards him, you could see that your boyfriend was holding a picnic basket in one hand, and a bottle of champagne in the other, and, as corny as that was, you couldn’t help but grin. 

“Drinking on duty now, detective?” You asked, raising your eyebrow at him.

“Nope. This one’s without alcohol. And, trust me, you’ll like it.” He told you, a sweet smile on his lips.

“Hum, maybe... But I wouldn’t really mind if it was bad either.” You half-whispered at Jay.

“Oh no?” He asked you with a smirk this time.

“No. The company makes up for anything else.” You said while moving to kiss him.

“Geez, babe, you're such a dork!" He said, making fun of you after the kiss was over.

"Really? That's what you're going with?" You, the dork? Big joke.

"What else can I say if it's the truth?" Jay asked you through his lashes, an innocent expression in-face.

"Look who's talking!" You said while rolling your eyes.

Not long after that, he put an end to your little banter. Saying that he didn't wanna spend another second of the few moments the two of you had until the evening arguing was an understatement. You agreed, even though you knew that both of you secretly enjoyed the bickerings as well as you did everything else.

Later, on that same day, when you were about to leave work, you decided to call your boyfriend.

"Hey, babe." He answered, on the fourth ring, voice letting on some tiredness.

"Hey there, handsome! I'm already leaving work, think I’mma go swim a little. Unless… There's a chance you're getting off a little earlier yourself?" You tried your luck, thinking about making him relax a little before you two left for dinner.

"Uh… Sorry, babe, I don't think I'll be able to." A deep sigh. Something was wrong.

"Jay. Is everything okay?" Another sigh. Shit.

"It's nothing for you to worry about, baby. Just a pain-in-the-ass case we can't seem to solve. When all I wanted to do was be home with you." He confessed.

"Huh. Now, tell me, who's the dork?" You heard his muffled laugh over the phone.

"I am. You know it. I know it. Everyone who knows us knows it." At that, you were the one who giggled. "And, believe me, I bear the title with pride." More laughing, from both of you this time.

"Okay, then… So, um, is there anything I can do? Maybe we cancel that dinner reservation?"

"No! No, not at all! You just… Go do your swimming and don't worry about me, okay?" Jay sounded a bit weird this time, but you brushed it off, thinking that it was just the stress of the day.

"Okay…" You replied, still unconvinced. 

"Alright, I gotta go now. Love you."

"Okay, bye. Love you too. Be safe!"

"Always, baby." With that, he hung up quickly, which he never did ⎼ always dragging the conversations for as long as he could. But, once again, you decided to do what your boyfriend told you to and not worry about it.

It was already a bit into the evening and you were stretching your body to leave the swimming pool, when you saw him. Jay. So you got out and walked over to him.

"Fancy meeting you here, miss (y/l/n)." He greeted innocently.

"Well, this is a surprise. Yet another one. On the same day." You said, just to let him know that his weird behaviors weren't going by unnoticed.

"Ah, you know what they say… Gotta keep the relationship interesting!" Ha, ha. He was up to something. So you just gave him a suspicious look. To which he answered with a huge smile, saying: "What?"

"Nothing. Nothing besides the fact that you're up to something. What is it?"

"Oh. My. God." Jay said emphatically, faking offense. "I'm offended. You think that poorly of me?"

"What do you mean?" You asked him, a bit confused this time.

"You really think that I can't just try and brighten my princess's day?" He said, walking closer to you this time.

"Well, I guess that I wouldn't object to that, but what I'm saying is tha-" Before you could finish your sentence, he was pulling you towards him, pressing your bodies on a tight embrace and kissing you passionately. 

"Oh no, Jay, you should let me go! I'm all wet!" You squeal out as Jay keeps holding you up in the air against his firm abdomen.

"I don't mind." He told you with a shrug of shoulders. "I'm used to having you like this." He, then, whispers in your ear and you can feel his smirk, as he kisses your neck.

"Jay!" You hissed in fake disapproval. "We're in public! You can't be saying these things to me in public!"

"Sorry, baby. But you know that I just can't help myself around you." He tells you, deliberately taking his time. At that, you just throw back your head in laughter. "Besides, it doesn't seem to me like you're feeling all that bothered with my actions…"

"But I am!" You said assertively. But then you remembered your conversation from earlier and asked him, in a softer tone: "Hey, um, how did the case go? Are you still feeling up for the dinner thing?" As soon as the words left your mouth, you watched Jay shift his entire demeanor.

"Yeah! We're definitely still going! And, as I told you before, the case was just a pain in the ass, nothing more." He sounded nervous. Weird. Like he was hiding something.

"Jay…"

"Let's just go, okay? Cause we still need to get ready for dinner. I already put your stuff in the duffel bag. My car's right outside." Jay told you quickly, like he didn't wanna give you time to make any conclusions.

"Okay, then…"

                                                           ---

“C’mon, (y/n/n)! We’re running late!” You heard your boyfriend shouting for you to come out of your shared bedroom.

“Hey! Don’t you dare to rush me! Not when you’re the reason I’m running late in the first place!” You sharply answered, stepping out into the living room whilst putting your earring on. “Besides, that place we’re going is just too fancy. I need to look perfect.” You added more calmly, only now realizing how Jay was staring at you. “What? Is something wrong?”

“Wha- wrong? No! No!” He quickly assured you and closed the distance between the two of you. “You already look perfect. Every single day.”

“What? Jay, I’m serious!” You pouted, giving him an annoyed glare.

“I am too! You look gorgeous, baby.” He told you with that glorious smile of his. “And, really, there’s just no place on the planet that could make you look any less gorgeous.”

“Okay, now you’re just trying to get me to hurry up!” You accused, hitting him with considerable strength in the chest.

“Ouch! That hurt! And, yes, I am trying to hurry you up! Because we have a reservation!” He yelled at you in response. If it was any other time, you would’ve argued with him, of course. But even you had to admit he was right, you were on the clock.

“Okay, okay! I’m just gonna grab my purse and we’ll go!” You shouted back, already from the bedroom.

After that, the two of you managed to leave your apartment and get to the restaurant on time, due to Jay promising the cab driver a doubled pay if he went faster.

As soon as you arrived, though, you saw it was worth it. You still had no clue of what got in your boyfriend’s head to take you out on this kind of date for no apparent reason like that, especially after everything else he’d already done, but you obviously weren’t about to complain either.

 The maître walked both of you two to a table on the upper floor of the establishment, it had an amazing view of the city and it was a pretty reserved space. So, right after you'd placed your orders and been left alone, you half-squealed at Jay:

"Oh. My. God." Your smile was wide and your eyes were shining. "This place is incredible, babe!" He looked at you with devotion, clearly amused by your reaction.

"I know right? I'm really glad we got to come here." He stated, his whole behavior letting you know that he was just as impressed.

And, like that, the evening flew by and you caught yourself stifling yawn after yawn.

"Baby, you’re not too desperate to go home, are you? Because there's still one thing I wanna show you." Your boyfriend said, pulling you by your hand to get up. Then, he guided you to that part where you'd been able to view most Chicago, earlier in the night.

"Wow," you said, leaning against the balcony to see the details, "this really is great, babe." When you’d walked past this part you wondered about why they hadn't put any tables there, only a small couch, but now you knew. They didn't want to make that space ⎼ that landscape ⎼ prisoner of one couple, or one family, that would most likely stay there the entire night.

"It is." He agreed with you.

"You know, I hadn't brought it up yet, because I thought that you'd eventually tell me on your own, but you've been acting a little weird the whole day. This morning in bed, the flowers, then the picnic lunch, picking me up at swimming, and now this… You didn't sound too good on that call either, and I gotta admit that when you said we were going out for a fancy dinner, I didn't think it'd be here, where it's practically impossible to get a reservation. So, just… Talk to me, Jay."

"(y/n/n)... Would you even believe me if I told you that that's what I've been preparing to do the whole day?" He asked you with a shy smile.

"Will you be mad at me if I say no?" You asked, a bit apprehensively. He just laughed.

"Nah, not really." He told you jokingly. "But I have." He said, more serious this time. “Baby, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” He started telling you.

“Jay-” You whispered nervously, sort of anticipating what was about to happen.

“No, just- just please let me finish. I need you to understand how important you are to me, princess. Hell, I know that words aren’t really my strongest suit, but you deserve to know that you’re my light, my lifeline, my happiness… You’re my everything, (y/n/n). My entire world. And, because of you, now I think that it is actually okay to dream, to hope for a better future, for a future. That’s why I wanna ask you, tonight, to be my future, just like you already are my present.” At that moment you couldn’t keep the tears off of your face anymore, and you would’ve jumped him right then if he hadn’t gotten down on one knee. “Will you marry me, (y/n) (y/l/n)?” He asked you with a timid smile and teary eyes of his own. As you took in the man you loved, kneeled before you, holding an open box with the diamond ring you’d recognized as being his mother’s, you just stood there crying, not managing to say anything. “B- baby? Please say something.” Jay spoke again, letting out a nervous choked laugh. So you forced yourself to answer him.

“Oh m- my God, yes!!” You squealed out.

“Yes?!?” He repeated what you said, still on the ground.

“Of course, yes!!!” You confirmed, pulling him up to kiss you. While at it, your boyfriend, now fiancé, almost dropped the small velvet box he was holding.

“Okay,” he started, chuckling, after the two of you parted a little, “let me put this thing on your finger before you back down!”

“Ha, ha. As if I was going to! You’re only in a hurry because you’re scared you’ll drop your mom’s ring.” You bickered a little, letting him know that you recognized the jewelry, to which he responded with a bright smile, saying:

“It’s your ring now, princess. And, trust me, she’d love you almost as much as I do if she were still here.” He told you, shining eyes meeting yours, as he slipped the stunning piece in your finger.

“Jay.” You breathed out as the tears resurfaced in your eyes. “It is so beautiful…” You told him looking down at the ring you had in-hand. “And… You really mean that?”

“100%, princess. If I’m being honest, there are a lot of times when you actually remind me of her…” He said, tearing up a little.

“Awww, babe...” You said throwing your arms around him again.

And that’s how you two stayed. Just holding each other, under a very starry night in Chicago. More than ready to start walking down that new road together.

[stevenbasic]

“hey….<pant, pant, gasp>...wait up!! Wait up!!” Scottie “Two Times” Hempsted had called, now lagging behind his two curvy running partners by twenty yards or more. He’d raised his labored voice loud enough to cause onlookers, people sitting in the park on this beautiful October Sunday afternoon, to turn their heads. “C’mon..! C’mon!! <pant, pant> Girls..!!”

God they’re in really good shape, he marveled. Missy he’d known since high school (why she’d never agreed to date him, he still couldn’t figure out...wasn’t for his lack of trying haha), and Josie was a cute-as-hell friend of hers, worked with her. Younger by five years or so. Also not interested in him, he’d quickly come to discover.

“He really can’t keep up, can he?” Josie quipped, eyes still fixed on the paved path ahead but privately addressing the tall, well-built brunette jogging alongside her.

“No I guess not…” Melissa answered with a thin smile, herself also well-focused on the run, “I kinda knew he’d...have trouble…”

Scott Hempsted had been an athlete, they both knew that. He’d played baseball and basketball back when he and Missy were in High School together, and was always considered half a jock (the other half? wiseguy). He’d claimed to keep himself in good shape, since then, but was hurtin’ for certain today, four-and-a-half miles in.

“Should we let him catch up?” Melissa asked, barely breathing heavy. She’d never really considered herself a runner, but the time she’d spent recently on treadmills at Evolution during her testing sessions had shown her what she was capable of these days.

It was nineteen miles, up and down the riverwalk, just last Sunday.

And Josie was obviously no slouch either.

“C’mon!!” the younger, lithe woman called, suddenly turning around and bouncing on her feet, jogging backwards for a moment to call for their male counterpart, “Can’t you keep up with two girls???” Her long ponytail bounced along as well, right in time with the joggling of her chest, which she caught him - even from twenty yards away, even in his exhaustion - ogling. Two sports bras were necessary for sure, now, to keep things in order.

When Josie turned back around, she and Melissa’s gazes met for a second, and they both smiled secretly at each other.

“Faster,” Josie urged.

People on the benches, couples on blankets, heard the two giggling as they picked up their pace.

“Hey…!” Scottie could have been heard, from behind, “Hey!!”

“So, Missy…” Josie began, starting to breathe a bit heavier now. This was a longer run for her, but she’d been able to keep up surprisingly well so far. “You heard about what...Randi and the other girls did with him last night?”

That gave Melissa a start. “Ah haha yes,” she answered, narrowing her eyes and unconsciously picking up the pace even a bit more, “after I left the office, they had some fun.”

“Fun?” Josie laughed, as they ran into a shady grove of evergreens, “I heard Marisela basically raped him.”

Nnnngh, Melissa nearly groaned, picturing it: him, Marisela, Amelia, Randi. Picturing his skinny little body trapped under their bigger ones. The image lit fires, and suddenly she could feel the strength, the vitality, the energy bulging and nearly bursting from the pounds and pounds of flesh she’d developed, the extra weight in muscle and fat that she carried now. It jiggled with mass as she ran, in her leggings, even under her three sports bras, all this. She knew it all had purpose, that she was growing like this for something. Someone.

He deserves the biggest. It should have been me.

Haha Missssssy c’mon he’s still m-married.

Yes but nnnngh nnnngh his little body pencil neck skinny arms legs like twigs compared to miiiiiine

Give it tiiiime

Get those papers siiiigned

Take his hand, hold his chin

Put his head in my fucking mouuu-

“Hey whoah…<pant, pant>… slow down..!” Josie laughed, stopping her friend from accelerating; she’d begun to quicken to a fuller sprint, and there was no way the younger woman was going to keep up that pace.

“Haha sorry..!”

The two ran in silence, at a more regular stride, emerging from the pine grove and back onto a path where they could see the river. They ran by a young family walking a dog; both girls felt the father’s eyes turn to them as they passed, and fall to their shapely behinds.

“Mommy she’s tall,” they heard the older child say in admiration, as they pulled away.

Both girls smiled. They ran.

“So, are you kinda…jealous?” Josie asked, eventually, as they jogged, “I mean, I totally am. I wish I was there…”

Melissa took a moment to feel the air filling her lungs, feel the strength in her legs. She considered her feelings, which she’d been having a harder and harder time reconciling these days. “Jealous?” she began, “well, maybe yeah a little..!” She let herself giggle. Melissa knew that her close friends - Randi, Amelia, Shanette, Josie here - understood how she felt about him.

“You love him?” Josie asked, plainly, through her breaths.

“I…I…” Melissa began, “I want to protect him…I want to take care of him…” They were back on the path aside the river; the sun felt nice, energizing. “But I also want to…I dunno…”

“Sit on his face?”

Melissa snorted.

“Break his hips??” Josie added, “Crack his ribs?”

“Haha kinda!” Melissa responded, “But I also want to…look in his eyes, know how he feels, know what he’s thinking…” She paused, felt the air filling her powerful lungs. “I think about him all the time.”

“So…you love him?”

After a moment’s thought, Melissa answered. “I guess I do…” she replied, with a secret little smile. She thought to herself, quietly, for a bit, and then spoke again. “The end’s right up here…”

The two young women reached the end of the trail, slowing to a gentle jog, then a walk, and finally a stop.  It took less than a minute for them to catch their breath. Both were positively glowing from the endorphin rush, the runner’s high that made their muscles ache in that oh-so-pleasant way.

“So you love him?” Josie beamed, a big smile that glittered with not only warmth towards her friend but something else, more mischievous, “Of course you do...we’ve all known it this whole time. You’re like a big, lovesick...I dunno...moo-cow…”

At that, Josie laughed playfully, darting away just in time as Melissa swatted at the space where Josie’s behind was just moments ago. “Stop it!!” the tall brunette laughed, as they heard someone calling to them.

“h-hey…<pant, pant, pant>...girls….girls..!” came a voice from behind. They each turned their heads, still giggling, seeing him just coming out of the pine grove. Scottie. Putting on a good a show as possible in his final yards and utter exhaustion, he finally staggered up next to them. His hands went to his knees, and he drew breaths in great gulps. “Whu...whu...wow…” he managed, “Good run, good run.”

“Yeah,” Melissa answered, head cocked, looking down at the poor guy.

He looked up at her. Josie had begun stretching to loosen the building tightness in her legs and calves. Both girls barely looked like they’d broken a sweat, and he was about to puke. Still, eventually his voice came back to him, and he figured this was as good a time as any. “So, heh heh, uh, Shanette. <gasp, gasp>?” he asked “...is she…seeing anyone?”

==============================================

more GITJ goodness at my Patreon

[shelby-love]

HANK VOIGHT

Dating the Big Boss.

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warning(s): mentions of r*pe and p*dophilia (it's a tough case)

Author's note: I had a lot of fun writing this one. Especially since everyone is a lot older so I could play with maturity a little. Hope you enjoyed and sorry for the long wait! I'm just starting to get back to writing.

~

"What's up with him?" Erin whispered when she saw Voight barge into the unit's personal quarters. Hank didn't look at any of them as he strode into his office with a frown on his face.

He was angry, that's for sure.

Still hot on his tail, your senior detective self arrived right on que with him. Every pair of eyes was on you, knowing that you were the only one who had magic to calm him. You waved your hands, dismissing their burning questions all at once. You just crossed your fingers for them all to see and walked into your lover's office without knocking.

"Hank let's talk about this," You approached him carefully.

"There's nothing to talk about here Y/N."

"Yes, there is." You sat at the edge of his desk casually, although your heart was still racing upon hearing the news delivered to you this morning. "We have a serial rapist and pedophile out there. It's okay to be affected by it honey."

"Well I don't have any leads on this case," He told you strictly, although the anxiety was visible on his shoulders. He had his back turned to you and face focused on the city in front of him. The wheels turning and working in his brain were practically visible for the whole world to see.

"Then maybe we should look into our contacts and see who can help us," You proposed quietly. "This is far from over Hank. We can still turn this around."

You could see him nod, which instantly calmed you down. "Come here."

He, as surprising as it may sound, listened to your words, and walked over to your arms.

He placed his rough hands on your thighs while you ran your hands over his arms soothingly. Eventually your cold hands grasped his face as you gave him a soft look, "Do you want me to brief the team?"

"Thank you," You giggled, still not used to those words leaving his mouth.

The two of you shared a kiss before you left him alone with his thoughts to brief the team. Upon joining them you felt tension rise again, it made you remember what you were meant to do at that moment. "Is he alright?" Erin asked you quietly. You only managed to nod your head before ushering her to her seat.

Then you took a stand in front of them, a file filled with gore pictures secure in your hand. "A few days ago we found a female that was beaten, raped and murdered just outside the Riverwalk area. She was found in a dumpster just outside the Belle Hotel. Roughly 9 years old and unfortunately not the only case."

You spoke with authority that matched Voight's to a certain level. As a senior to all of them it was your job to deliver the details loud and clear. "There have been a few more cases similar to this one. Brody Thompson declared as missing just over a week ago was found two days ago in an area like this one. His left pinky was cut of just like the first victim's..." You placed a picture of a little boy on the board.

"Same MO?" Erin asked, scribbling things vigorously into her notepad. You nodded sadly.

"Are all of the victims children?" Burgess asked from the other side of the room. When you bobbed your head to her in confirmation you could practically see the heartbreak that struck her.

"We believe that we're dealing with a serial rapist and pedophile." You sighed.

"The MO is unique, and it doesn't look like he's been very careful with where he dumps the bodies," Jay notes. "It should be easy to find him since he's bound to make a mistake."

"That's where it gets tricky," You tell him, appreciating his quickness in noticing the details. "These are only cases reported in Chicago within the last few weeks. If we expand the search, which we did, there are dozens of other reported cases all around Ohio, Virginia, Rhode Island and lastly… New York."

A cool cloak of silence fell over the room once you've finished marking the spots. "Some date back to 10 years so we're looking for someone in his early to mid-forties. Maybe even older. Virginia State Police was only able to give us cases within the last 5 years, and we've hit four matches so far."

"Why are they handing the case to us? NYPD should be able to handle this." It was Alvin who had asked that question to which you opened your mouth to answer immediately.

But Hank, your boyfriend and partner, was quicker.

"Because we're the most qualified to do it," He explained, voice booming across the room. He joined your side and placed his hand on your hip; it was that after all, only the members of this very unit knew about you two. "Now, I've pulled out some old contacts from New York. They should be arriving here on the first jet they get their hands on. Until then I want you guys everywhere."

When his gaze slid to yours a twinkle of determination shone within his irises, "Let's get this son of a bitch."

***

"Sargent Benson," you greet the woman that just descended the stairs of the jet. The only people on the tarmac are the two of you and the officers you brought here. "Thank you for coming on a such short notice."

"Voight sounded stressed when he called. Is he alright?" She asked you quietly, matching your footing and walking toward the black SUV next to you.

You shook your head, "This case has been really hard on us is all. It's not every day we have cases like this one."

"Well, our job isn't pretty." She agreed. "Rape cases are already hard on their own."

"But when it's kids…"

"Do you have kids, detective?"

"None that are my own."

"Then I guess you're lucky."

"I suppose so."

***

The drive back to the district wasn't all that comfortable. Benson carried an air of importance around her that would get some rookies sweating with nerves.

Decades in this line of work showed just how good of a match you were for her.

"Hey Trudy," You greeted your friend in passing. Benson was hot on your heels as you lead her upstairs.

Upon reaching your destination you felt her walk straight pass you into Hank's arms. She brushed her hand against the lapels of his jackets when she asked him how he was doing. You felt your chest rise with jealousy but that diminished quickly when you saw him lead her to his office.

"You're not seeing that?"

"Seeing what Jay?"

The younger man narrowed his eyes at you, "She's obviously into him."

You sent him a glare. "We're not kids Jay, we're adults that lived long enough to see what's worthy being petty about and what's not."

"If you say so."

You rolled your eyes, but still went to retrieve your man, nevertheless.

***

You knocked twice before Voight let you in. "Sorry detective, this is a private conversation."

It was Benson who had told you this. You fought an eyebrow that wanted to rise.

"Y/N runs this unit as much as I do," Your boyfriend interfered. "She can stay."

You smiled, that not being able to suppress. "What do you have?"

"A possible location," She told you, still eerie about you being there.

You perked your eyes at that, taking your usual seat in Voight's office. Hank came to stand behind your chair, hands on the back of it. Olivia eyed you quietly and came to retrieve some papers. With her back turned to you both you turned your head, eyes travelling to Voight. Silently, you asked about what was going on. He only shook his head and pressed his hand against your shoulder, rubbing it in comfort.

Olivia saw the interaction and raised her brow.

***

You held your M16 in your hands securely. Officers were bustling all around you, greeting you in passing. The house in front of you looked like a fortress having god knows what protecting it. "We don't go in by force. There are still kids inside."

While the members of your unit nodded in agreement, a few voiced their distaste.

"We go in now. Cut off his ability to retaliate."

"I understand Olivia, but-"

"Sergeant."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm your sergeant. Let's keep it that way."

You gritted your teeth, seemingly offended by the fact that she had used the chain of command to put you in your place.

"My sergeant is Voight. I answer only to him," You corrected her. "I just want those kids to come out of there alive, and that's not going to be possible if we barge in. He'll panic. Kill them instantly."

"Why don't you go in then?" She proposed. "Scope and give us inside information so we can work our way around it. You find the kids and let us do the rest."

You thought about it. "I need –"

"Nothing." Your sergeant appeared by your side, eyes hard and body as still as a rock. Unlike Benson, you could see his anger. You almost reached out to calm him. "You're not doing it."

"This could be our shot." You told him.

He only shook his head, "Trust me it's not. A word, sergeant?"

She nodded and followed him.

You watched as the distance became bigger.

Jay and Adam came to stand next to you, Adam at your right side and Jay at your left.

"Holy hell." Adam muttered.

"She almost got you killed." Jay commented after him.

"Holy hell indeed guys."

***

"Hank I'm trying to do right by these kids!"

"The hell you are," Hank outright yelled at her. As the only person at the scene that had guts to stand up to her, he took the chance to put her in her place. "The way I see it you want Y/N in direct danger with no back up."

She stayed silent.

"You don't get to boss around my unit. Especially not my most trusted detective."

"Oh, come on Hank." She sighed, not quite believing what she was hearing.

"You're here to assist. The case is still mine so don't get ahead of yourself."

And with that, he left her to be.

"We're waiting for him. SWAT is on standby."

You smiled gratefully at him before mouthing a thank you.

***

"You did great today," You complimented him, smiling from ear to ear. All the children that went missing within the last few weeks have been found alive. Wounded yes, but alive. And the man was, much to your satisfaction, shot dead when he tried to run. By none other than yourself. Being able to put down a monster like him brought you satisfaction.

It brought Hank pride too.

He pulled you in by the hip and rested your back against the wall. Chicago was lightly lit up outside, bringing peaceful atmosphere to the district. Your fingers brushed against his rigid jawline; eyes locked with his.

Kisses between you two were shared ever so often at work. While you would both usually leave to the privacy of your home, today was a day you both needed reassurances immediately.

Your lips were pressed together and moving in a way possible for only people with experience.

When someone opened the door without knocking, you pushed him away in fright. Hank didn't even stumble as he narrowed his eyes at the person who had intruded.

"Sergeant Benson?!" You shrieked, cheeks flushing a bright red.

"It all makes sense now." She mused.

MASTERLIST

[mysterytickingegos]

Roadtrip

Pairing: Wilford Warfstache x Reader

Genre: Fluff. Like so god damn fluffy. The fluffiest thing this angst-lover will ever write. TOOTH ROTTING- okay you get the point.

Word Count: 1,710

Summary: Your relationship with the strange TV personality naturally leads to some pretty fun adventures, but this one might just go down in history as your favorite.

Anonymous Request: If you have time, could you please do 10, 17, and 20 with either Wilford or Yancy (and they/them pronouns)? 🥺👉🏼👈🏼 I love your writing btw ❤️

Authors Note: I think it’s safe to say I’m out of the ficlet mindset after this one. I got an idea and got waaay carried away but hopefully no one minds!  Maybe a bit out of character? I’m not completely sure.

Want to read more?

[Image Description: A gif of Wilford Warfstache from the short “Warfstache Interviews Markipler” screwing with his hair. End Description.]

The sun wasn’t even up yet, that was your biggest concern. Not that there could be some kind of emergency but that someone had the audacity to knock on your door before the sun was even up. You swung the door open to see Wilford standing there, looking much more casual than usual and grinning the moment he saw you. “Good morning, sunshine! Ready to go?”

You sighed and let your defenses down. “To go?”

“Yes, to go! To go to the big thing in Chicago!”

“Yeah I remember that, I thought we were leaving at six thirty.”

“It is six thirty.” He said, glancing down at his watch to check.

You stared at him for a moment in sleepy confusion before it finally hit you. “You meant six in the morning??”

“Well of course I meant the morning, can you imagine the traffic that time of day?” He chuckled at the thought and let himself inside. “Besides, the network made it very clear I can’t miss this. Best not to take chances.”

“...You’re lucky you’re cute.” You grumbled, fighting back a yawn as you left to get dressed and grab the bag you packed the night before.

You’d been dating Wil for somewhere close to two years at this point, and you’d been friends for longer than that, and you still never had any idea what to expect from him. There was always a new adventure or shenanigans for him to pull you into, just waiting around the corner. This was one of those times.

When you came back downstairs he took your bag, and your hands in his once it was securely over his shoulder. “Come on, cheer up! I know you took the week off so I made sure this would be worthwhile, planned some stops, made sure we had plenty of time.”

You stopped to lock up your apartment before you two started walking downstairs. “What kind of stops?”

“Sweetheart, you are just gonna have to wait and see.” He told you with a wink.

MONDAY

If Wil hadn’t stopped at a gas station, you probably wouldn’t have been able to keep yourself awake at the start of the drive, but thankfully you took the opportunity to get yourself some caffeine and something for you both to eat. After that it was pretty fun, with music blasting and the windows cracked. Every half hour or so one of you would turn the music down and get into another conversation. You had both been so busy the past few months that you had plenty to talk about. Though, the entire time he made a point to keep a folded up piece of paper out of your reach.

The first detour was through the Las Vegas strip, the only stop being a cozy barbecue place off of an exit. But it was fun to see the grand casinos and attractions nonetheless.

“Okay, this is amazing,” You said, pointing to what was left of your sandwich. “What’s the story behind this place?”

“I’ve actually never been here before, just saw it had four and a half stars.” In the middle of his explanation, he swiped a fry off your plate. “I actually haven’t stayed in Vegas since before all the smart...google...haberdashery.”

You stopped halfway to taking a drink, biting back a smile. “Haberdashery?”

He smiled back, shaking his head at you. “Don’t start.”

“So you really planned this out then, huh?”

“Yeah! I have a whole list of places we’re stopping. Did you expect anything less from me?”

“I probably shouldn’t answer that.” You teased. He gasped in mock offense before both of you burst out laughing.

“Fair enough.”

Once you got back on the road it was an extremely long eight hours, at least in the second half after another gas station stop. Your legs were cramped up and the music was getting a bit tedious and had to be turned down. Wilford assured you it was the longest stretch in the whole trip, but even he was tired by the time you guys got to stop in a small Chinese restaurant on the border of Colorado.  “I should’ve picked a closer hotel.” He mumbled through a yawn, waiting somewhat impatiently on the ‘meal for two’ special. “I really didn’t think it’d be this late.”

“How far is it?” You asked, spinning your straw in your glass.

“‘Nother two hours, I think.”

You nodded, deciding to step in. “You could barely keep your eyes open when we pulled in, you should let me drive.”

“You’re probably right...” He seemed hesitant, but neither one of you wanted this to end in a car crash. “But don’t look at the list.”

“I won’t, I won’t. Jeez”

The next two hours were nice, as it was dark now and there were hardly any cars. It didn’t take more than a few minutes for Wilford to doze off in the passenger seat after he put in the next address and you played an audiobook at a low volume to keep yourself focused. Finally the GPS buzzed; “Your destination is on the left.”

You pulled into the lot of Riverwalk inn and nudged your partner’s shoulder until he finally started to stir. “Hey, c’mon we’re here.”

TUESDAY

You heard an alarm start going off on the other side of the bed and let out a groan, pulling a pillow over your head. “What time is it?”

“It’s eight, get up and get dressed and I’ll find someplace to eat.” And with that Wilford was up and out of bed, no problems.

You on the other hand... “We can’t even sleep in a little bit?”

“Not unless you want to start crossing places off the list, my dear.” He started going through his things to look for something new to wear. “We still have to make it there by Friday...for the thing.”

You grumbled some more, finally dragging yourself out of bed after hearing a couple promises of fresh coffee. “Wilford Warfstache, this ‘thing’ better be the best thing that’ll ever happen to you.”

“I already know it will be!” He said in a sing-song voice as you grabbed your bag and vanished into the bathroom.

“What’s the plan for today anyway?” You called out.

“Nothing much, a couple breaks here and there but it’ll take most of the day to get to-” You heard him cut himself off, “to...the next place. But things’ll get good tomorrow, I promise.”

And when you drove into Oklahoma city that night, you pondered all the possibilities.

WEDNESDAY

It was much easier to get up early, mostly out of excitement. After you two stopped at a random chain restaurant to get something for breakfast, you pushed for answers again. “Come on, you have to tell me now that we’re here.”

“Well, actually I couldn’t decide.”He tore his napkin in two and pull a pen out of what seemed to be thin air. You were about to ask if he even realized he did that, as he usually didn’t, but he held both his now-paper-filled hands out. “So, you pick. Left or right, whatever the paper says is what we’ll do.”

“Okay...left.”

He tossed the other paper over his shoulder and read what yours said. “Ooh good choice.” You tried to lean over the table to see it but he closed his hand quickly, leaning closer to you. “Now, Y/n, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you want to kiss me.”

“I’ll kiss you if you tell me where we’re going.”

He laughed at you and slipped out of the booth without hesitation. “Nope! Not ruining the surprise.”

He was very insistent that it didn’t happen, even convincing you to close your eyes once you were close. He guided you out of the car, and finally let you open your eyes. You looked up at the big green sign.

“OKC Zoo and Botanical Garden.”

“Oh my- are you serious?” You had to stop yourself from jumping up in excitement, and grabbed his hand to pull him inside.

You were still beaming hours after you two left, showing him how all the photos turned out over dinner in Kansas City.

THURSDAY

The audiobook had hit a lull, and you were too sick of pop music to switch it. Wilford was much more quiet than usual, so you kept to yourself for a while after lunch, eventually nodding off for a good half-hour.

“We made it!” Your boyfriend cheered, shutting off the car as you sat up straight. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t even realize.”

“Nah it’s fine. We’re here?”

“Yep! We are officially, finally in Chicago. Ready to stretch your legs?” 

You bought some ice cream from a Dessert Dealer before driving down to the architecture center to walk around, even deciding to catch a movie before you checked into the hotel.

“This was the best. week. ever!” You exclaimed, flopping onto the bed.

Wil chuckled and laid down beside you. “It’s not over yet.”

“Well you said no detours planned on the way back, and you’ll be busy with the thing tomorrow, so...safe to say we can call it.” You shrugged, flipping onto your stomach and laying your head on your arms. “What is it anyway? A speech? Big grand opening?”

He didn’t answer you at first, contemplating the answer. “Truth be told...” He started. “The network has no idea I’m here. I just wanted to surprise you with all of this. Because...”

“Because?”

He put up a finger, staring down at his watch until-

FRIDAY

“Because, happy anniversary.” He said with a grin,

You had to pause, doing the math in your head, before sitting up straight. “That is...the sweetest thing anybody’s ever done for me. God, I love you.”

He pulled you into a hug before you started tearing up. “I love you too...In fact I didn’t think it was possible to love someone so much.”

“Me either,” You admitted, pulling back to wipe your face with your sleeve. “Happy anniversary, Wil.”

Little did you know that despite the list being complete, there was still one more surprise in store.

You know, considering the ‘top secret list’ you couldn’t look at was just to keep your attention away from the tiny black box in his suitcase?

[ncssian]

the perfect male

A/N: this is a verrry messy, unedited drabble that i wanted to post just for fun. i really like this scene concept and am planning to rework a much better version of it into a full-length fic later, but these are just my initial thoughts/ideas.

Description: Cassian learns who Nesta’s perfect guy is, and it’s not him. Crossover AU.

***

Cool air drifted off the Sidra, entangling with Nesta's scent and the sound of her laugh as she and Cassian made their way down the riverwalk.

"And you?" Cassian nudged Nesta with an elbow. "What's your idea of the perfect male?"

Nesta leaned into Cassian as they walked, her arm tucked into the crook of his elbow. "Oh, I already have the perfect male."

Cassian raised his brows in question and surprise.

"Hunt Athalar," she said simply.

Cassian almost choked on river air. "The captain of the 33rd Legion? The half-angel half-demon with the--?" He wiggled his fingers to indicate lightning.

"That's him."

"Doesn't he kind of look like..." Cassian trailed off.


Nesta narrowed her eyes at Cassian. "Don't flatter yourself. I knew Hunt years before I even met you. He's always been my ideal backup male."

"Backup male?"

"You know," Nesta trailed. "The person you turn to when people in your life inevitably let you down. I always keep one on speed-dial; they're cheaper than ice cream and therapy."

Now Cassian was really intrigued. "And how does Hunt Athalar qualify to be the perfect backup male?"

"For starters, the perfect male is always there for me. He provides companionship and understanding and good sex during times of crisis, and I provide the same for him when necessary. He's always on my side, which is never difficult because he isn't a part of my usual social circle. There's no chance of him having loyalties or duties that conflict with his loyalty to me."

Cassian could visualize her checklist of needs in his mind, and he could see even clearer how he didn't meet any of those needs. He swallowed. "And you thought the son of the Star-Eater was the best choice of backup male?"

Nesta shrugged, as if Athalar's heritage meant nothing to her. "He understands me." She nudged Cassian's bicep with her head at that. "You know how hard it is for me to find people that can do that." Something in Cassian twisted at that, because yes, he did know. It was visible every time she blended into the background at a dinner party or family event.

He tried to come up with a comment that didn't reveal his utter incompetency. "That sounds...hard to top."

"It's not," she said, refusing to look at him as they walked. Her voice had hardened imperceptibly. "People just don't want to bother to put in the effort. That's why I need a backup male in the first place." She might as well have stabbed him in the chest and walked away. Even then, her logic wasn't clicking with him.

"If Athalar's so perfect, then why is he a backup?" Cassian said. "Why don't you just make him your boyfriend?"

Nesta's answering smile told him there were some things that he would never understand. "He's not it for me. Don't you hate it when that happens, when a perfect person comes along and you just know it can never work out with them?"

Cassian watched Nesta closely from the corner of his eye, how she walked and talked as if she was completely oblivious to how her words shook his earth. "I think I'm beginning to understand," he said, so low she must have missed it.

Cassian didn't know what to do with everything Nesta had handed to him. All this time, he'd thought he wasn't worthy of her because he was a bastard. In reality, he wasn't worthy of her because he was a dick. Nesta wanted--needed-- an ally, and he couldn't even provide her with that basic necessity. Not while he still worked for Rhys and Feyre.

They reached the door to her apartment building and slowed to a stop. Nesta's arm slid from Cassian's, the act unintentionally fanning the flames of his anger. Not at her, never her, but at himself. How was he incapable of providing her with something so simple as friendship and understanding?

"Cassian?" The sound of his name from her voice snapped him out of his head. "Are you alright?" Her face was as withdrawn as ever, but Cassian had watched her for long enough to notice the furrow of concern in her brow.

Cassian blinked. "Just thinking," he said. He needed to try--for her if not for himself. Not that Nesta needed him, clearly.

"Um," he tried to collect his scattered thoughts into a comprehensive sentence, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. Nesta only raised an eyebrow as she patiently waited for him to pull his shit together.

"Crescent City is pretty far from here," he finally said, dumbly.

"I'm aware," Nesta said.

"So if you ever need ice cream and therapy in this city..." He felt stupider by the second. "I'm free."

He rushed on before Nesta could smile politely and shoot him down. "I know I don't even meet, like, half the things on your list, but it doesn't have to be like that. I can--I can try...to be whatever you need," he finished weakly.

Nesta was frowning, now, in that way she did whenever she was taken aback. Cassian wished desperately he could read her beyond that.

It was quiet between them for the longest time. Slowly, very slowly, Nesta nodded. "I'll think about it," she said carefully. She didn't sound like she was lying to be nice.

Cassian wanted to tremble with relief. All she'd said was that she would consider confiding in him more often. "Okay," he breathed. "Okay."

"So...next time I date a shitty guy or get into a fight with my sister..."

"I'll be there," Cassian finished. "I'll be there." He couldn't stop repeating himself.

Nesta seemed to think about it a second longer. Finally, she reached for the building door.

"It's a difficult job," she warned him as she pulled the door open. "No benefits, and you'll have to work overtime to prove yourself."

"Good." He wasn't about to half-ass the once in a lifetime opportunity he'd just been given.

Nesta nodded one final time, and just before she slipped through the door and went inside, Cassian thought he saw the hint of a confused smile on her lips.

a/n: i wrote this at 2 am with my eyes half-closed sorry. i saw a theory on tumblr that said hunt’s father is the star-eater and it’s pretty much canon for me at this point. also credit to those who recommended hunt be nesta’s ‘backup’ guy, b/c that was interesting to write. 

tagging: @sjm-things @ladywitchling @nikolai-lantsovs-bitch @thewayshedreamed, tell me if u wanna be removed at any time pls

[fandom-necromancer]

I hate you means I love you in android Part 2

This was prompted by the amazing @get-me-a-coffee-dipshit! I guess no fluff without angst with me, but I hope you still enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 [Part1]

‘Hey, Nines!‘ Gavin turned his chair slowly to face the android on the opposite desk. He had the plush kitty on his arm, trying hard to incorporate a mafia-boss petting it slowly while grinning at him. Nines looked at Gavin, the toy and then back at Gavin, lifting a brow. ‘Any plans on the weekend?’ ‘I never don’t have plans, Detective’, he answered dry as always. ‘Okay, I’ll word it differently then’, Gavin said and sat the kitty back on her spot on the table. ‘Mind changing those plans?’ ‘Depends.’ ‘On what?’, Gavin smirked. ‘On what you want from me.’

‘The way I understood it you want something from me, buddy’, Gavin laughed, winking at the android. ‘I don’t know what you are talking about.’ Nines averted his eyes just a second too quickly for Gavin to be convinced. Gavin took the cat again and sat it so the plush looked at Nines from underneath his screen. ‘What happened to I care about you, too?’ ‘I didn’t write that.’ ‘Oh, really?’ Gavin was short of laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. ‘You can’t prove I wrote that’, Nines corrected himself, looking at Gavin threateningly.

‘Come on. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about’, Gavin tried to be diplomatic. ‘Everyone feels something. Even a big bad machine like you.’ ‘That’s not what I’m embarrassed about!’, Nines hissed. ‘Perfect! Then how about going out for a coffee with me?’, Gavin caught him. ‘Or I don’t know wherever you want to go.’ ‘Why?’ Gavin groaned. Had he not known better he would have thought Nines really wasn’t interesting. ‘I thought it would be nice, okay? Spend some time together outside work, maybe talk about what you are embarrassed about if it isn’t feeling stuff…’ He sighed. ‘I won’t press you for it. But it’s an offer, okay?’

He saw Nines’ LED go red and stay on it for quite a while. Right as Gavin wanted to ask if everything was alright, the android nodded. ‘Okay. Coffee. Talking. Good.’ Then he went back to working. ‘Okayy…’

~

Saturday at exactly 4 PM Gavin had received the cryptic message Detroit West Riverwalk. Entrance from Orleans Street. On the hill. Bring a jacket. 19:00. At 6:58 he parked his bike at the side of said street and hurried to the park. It was only a short walk until he could see the android sitting on the hill looking over the river. Gavin followed his eyes and got stuck on Cyberlife Tower standing on the other side illuminated by the setting sun. It looked breath-taking, but somehow Gavin questioned whether that was the goal here. Carefully he approached the android and sat down next to him. ‘Hey.’ ‘Hello.’ ‘Err… Nice view you chose.’ ‘Thank you.’ The android lifted a shoulder bag to his side and opened it, handing Gavin a takeout cup and taking a blue bottle out for himself. ‘Got you coffee.’

Gavin took it with a smile. ‘Thanks. Just what I needed.’ They sat in silence. Gavin took a sip of his coffee appreciating the warmth rush into his body. Nines began refilling his thirium too. ‘Hey, you sure you are alright?’, Gavin asked in the end. ‘We don’t have to do this.’ ‘We have to’, Nines shook his head. ‘This is what I want and I won’t wait any longer.’ Gavin lifted his brows, hoping for an explanation. ‘I had a… A crush, I believe is the word, on you for a while. I never told you and this… gift misunderstanding was the end of it.’ ‘Hey, no hard feelings’, Gavin laughed. ‘It was adorable.’ ‘You think so?’, Nines asked. ‘Oh, hell yes! It’s nice knowing someone cares for you. Makes you feel appreciated. And it says a lot about you that if that hadn’t been my brother, you’d be respectful about the whole thing.’

Nines sighed deeply. ‘For me it’s just another proof how much control they still have over me.’ Gavin cocked his head questioningly, but realised Nines was once again watching Cyberlife Tower. He swallowed making the connection. ‘You want to talk about it?’ ‘No’, Nines said, watching the grass between his feet. ‘No, I don’t want to talk about it. I would love to bury it so deep I myself forget about it, but that’s what I’ve been doing until now and it isn’t working.’ Gavin side-eyed the android, but concentrated on drinking his coffee, giving him time. ‘Hey, I’m here. You can tell me; I won’t tell anyone.’

Nines nodded. It still took a while for him to speak up: ‘I was designed without the ability to feel anything. Compassion was what made my predecessor fail, they thought. I was supposed to set an end to deviancy, to never deviate myself. But I had access to Connor’s memories. To his feelings. And although I had never been programmed to feel something, I did experience feelings through him. It was fascinating for me. I wanted to know more and searched for what allowed him to feel in his code. No surprise they weren’t to happy finding out I did that.’ ‘Cyberlife?’, Gavin asked. ‘You were in development during the early days of the revolution, right?’ Nines nodded again. ‘Yes. They found out the first time and deleted it. But they didn’t know the source where Connor’s memories, which they left me. So, I could reclaim the programming again. Until they found it once more and rewrote my code again. It was difficult, but I once again surpassed the barrier they sat me. Of course, they found out. They found out I had stolen and modified my code every time. But I got better at hiding it too. I guess in the end the revolution saved me. At one point they would have found out the RK800s memories where the source of the problem.’

‘But you still have these feelings, right?’, Gavin asked. ‘They didn’t succeed.’ ‘Yes, I still have them. They fled the city before they could take it away from me again. But… When you are told you are not allowed to have emotions and are constantly corrected so you don’t have them… When you are trying to keep your emotions and feelings a secret, just so you can keep them… I guess they did succeed in the end. Even free like I am now, I am scared to show them. Because there is still that irrational fear someone will notice and take them away.’ ‘Holy shit’, Gavin cursed, coffee forgotten. ‘What a bunch of assholes.’ Nines smiled. ‘Cheers to that.’ He took a sip from his thirium and cupped it again to put it away.

‘So you are feeling something for myself, but this shit keeps you from voicing it?’ ‘Something like that’, the android said. ‘I have problems emoting in public. Feelings had always been something private. I was waiting for a situation where I could tell you, but I never met you outside of work. Seeing you with these packages made me… I was envious and frustrated, angry at myself. For never getting over my fear and just telling you.’ Silence spread, and Gavin couldn’t help but smile gently looking over at Nines.

‘You could tell me now’, he suggested. ‘Look around, we are completely alone here.’ Nines did look around and the way his eyes were unfocussed, Gavin suspected he scanned the area. As he was finished, he stiffened up and Gavin feared he might have said the wrong thing. But there was a minute change in the android’s expression, and he angled his body to get more comfortable and look at Gavin.

‘Detective Gavin Reed. I love you from the bottom of my mechanical heart and I wanted to tell you for so long. I love the way you smile. I love to see how your heartbeat fastens when you solved a case. I love how calm you look when you fall asleep, although I would advise getting more sleep instead of falling asleep on your keyboard at work.’ There was a small smile on those normally unmoving lips. ‘I love how cute you can be. And I would like to spend more time with you.’ Gavin grinned and put down his coffee to lay his hand on Nines’. ‘Love you too, you goddamn softy.’