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alonely-dreamer · 3 years

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Dangerous Creatures | Chapter 36: Dangerous Friends

Summary: Mackenzie and Elijah go to Marcel’s party

Pairing: Elijah x OC

Words: 3314

A/N: Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there. I’d like to thank @eywizard for beta reading this chapter for me!

Masterlist

On her knees, the seamstress focused on the needle, touching up the pants of her client’s suit as he admired himself in the mirror on his right.

“Damn, I do look good in a suit,” he said, making his friend in the cap laugh.

It wasn’t unusual for the seamstress to answer house calls, no, the only thing unusual about this client was the odd things he said. She felt weird as she focused on her work. She could hear the two men, but not quite comprehend what they were saying to each other, as if the words wouldn’t stick to her brain, turning into an alphabet soup she couldn’t read.

She thought she had heard names, Tina McGreevy and Joshua Rosza. What was the TV saying about them? Perhaps they were missing. No, it wasn’t that. Wait… who were they talking about again? Her mind was foggy and the more she tried to focus, the foggier it got.

“My guy at the docks is gonna come forward as an eyewitness, say he saw those two drunkenly fall into the Mississippi. They’ll be dredging for weeks, no one will come looking around here,” said the man in the cap, whose name she thought started with a ‘T’… Theo? Thibault? No… It was that.

“That’s good, considering one’s dead in a dumpster behind the county morgue and the other one’s a vampire now,” her client said with a chuckle. “Anything else?”

The words danced in her brain, refusing to form a correct sentence, refusing to make sense. As she tried to think back to what had just been said, she inadvertently pricked herself with her needle.

“Ow!”

She sat back on her knees and looked at her bloody finger. The man, whose name she thought might be Mark, crouched before her with a smile.

“Allow me, darling,” he said as he took her hand and brought the injured finger to his mouth.

She let him do it, even though her entire body was screaming at her to get up and go. Her mind was loud with alarms, screaming at her that it wasn’t safe, but she couldn’t say anything, couldn’t do anything but smile. His friend spoke up again.

“I sent four nightwalkers to look into a werewolf sighting in the Quarter. I haven’t heard from them since.”

Mark, or whatever his name was, lost his smile as he let go of her hand and sighed.

“That makes ten dead nightwalkers in the last week. You think the werewolves are back in town trying to start some trouble?”

“Look. I know you and Klaus are friends, but the fact is, since the Originals showed up…”

“Oh, come now, Thierry, you’re not still upset about that little toxic werewolf bite I gave you, are you?”

The seamstress barely registered the stranger who had just come into the fitting room. She felt like she was supposed to ignore him, to ignore them, to silence them out, and so she did.

“I see you’ve given him free rein of your compound now, too,” Thierry said with disappointment and disapproval.

“Yes. Well, seeing as my family and I lived here, built the place, in fact…”

“All right, come on,” Mark, or perhaps his name was Maxwell, interrupted their argument calmly, “you know the drill. Thierry is my guy, inner circle. Klaus is my old-time friend and sire. He’s also a guest here,” he reminded his friend. “Peace, all right?” he asked Thierry who nodded with a grimace. “All right,” he nodded as well. “What do you need, my brother?”

“I don’t need anything, just wanted to let you know Elijah accepted your invitation.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he smiled. “I hope you told him the rules.”

Klaus laughed. “He knows the rules, though I can’t promise he’ll follow them.”

“What about the witch?”

“Mackenzie? She used to love rules, would rather die than break them, actually. Now… not so much. But, no worries,” he added quickly to reassure his friend, “tonight is a party, no one expects a fight.”

“Right,” Marcel smiled unconvinced. “Let’s just have fun, eh?”

***

“So, how’s Matt?” Mackenzie asked, picking up a strawberry from the bowl on the kitchen counter right in front of her.

The cooks were busy cooking food no one asked, or wanted, compelled by Klaus to act like they were serving kings and queens. The kitchen was filled with desserts that Hayley was convinced would make her fatter than her pregnancy.

“Sleeping,” Rebekah’s voice came through the speaker.

“Where are you again?”

“We reached Amsterdam a couple of days ago.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“It is actually.”

“So, I guess you’re not gonna be there for my birthday, then…”

“My gift is already in the mail, it should be there in time.”

“I was hoping to see you.”

“Aw, do you miss me?” the Original vampire mocked over the phone.

“Don’t you miss me?”

“Of course, I miss you, but let me tell you, the phone system is definitely one of the best creations in the past century.”

“Yeah, well I was actually hoping to spend my birthday with my friends, you know, but Katherine said she had no intentions of coming anywhere near Klaus ever again, so…”

“So what? I’m your backup friend?”

“I’d have loved to have you both here but since you guys all hate each other, I think it would have just ruined the day.”

“You’re probably right. Just spend the day with Elijah, I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to do anything you want. Birthday or not…”

“Fine, don’t come, it’s not like we can actually have a party anyway, in our secret hiding place away from Marcel…”

“Why don’t you just come join me in Europe? Leave Nik alone, he doesn’t deserve your help…”

“Well, that’s true, but I can’t just leave Hayley here alone with him…”

“You’re right, that sounds like a particularly cruel thing to do.”

“Anyway, have fun in Amsterdam then.”

“And you have fun at that party of yours, show Marcel what you’re capable of.”

“And how do you suggest she does that, Rebekah?” Elijah asked as he entered the kitchen.

Mackenzie smiled as she saw him, and leaned into him as he went to place a kiss in her hair.

“Brother, finally, you deign to talk to your poor sister…”

The Original rolled his eyes. “You’re always so dramatic, sister.”

“That bastard little thief stole our city and declared himself King, maybe you should show him he’s nothing but an ingrate little…”

“Alright, alright,” Mackenzie cut her off with a chuckle. “It’s a charity dinner, ‘bekah. We’re expecting champagne, good food, and dancing, nothing more.”

“You’re so boring. No wonder Kol hasn’t come around to visit you.”

“Ouch,” Mackenzie frowned. “Now you’re just being mean.”

“Heard from him recently?”

“He’s somewhere in Brazil, I believe,” Elijah answered.

“What the bloody hell is he doing there?”

“Who knows what our brother’s got in his head.”

“You got that right… Well, Matt is waking up, I have to go.”

They said their goodbyes before hanging up, Mackenzie still eating from the bowl of strawberries that was almost empty now.

“Do you even want to go to this thing?” she asked.

“No. But Marcel must have something in mind, and I’d hate to go against his plans.”

She smirked. “That’s so nice of you,” she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I am very nice,” he whispered before placing a kiss on her lips. “In fact, I have many nice things I want to do to you right now.”

“Ew, please, stop.”

The couple turned towards the kitchen doorstep to find Hayley standing there with a look of disgust on her face. Mackenzie rolled her eyes playfully as she took a step back from the vampire.

“What can we do for you, Hayley?” Elijah asked the newest member of the Mikaelson family.

“Nothing, I just came to stuff my face with the biggest cake I could find…”

“We’ll leave you to it then,” he nodded before he gently took Mackenzie’s hand and led her out of the room under Hayley’s uncomfortable gaze.

***

So far, everything was going well. Elijah and his witch were behaving remarkably, the Original had already signed a check, and had been dancing with his companion ever since. Klaus was right. They looked unbearably in love. The silver satin dress she was wearing was remarkable as well, no doubt a gift from Elijah, and it complemented her set of diamond jewelry best. A swiss blue topaz gemstone rested above her cleavage, the necklace looked ancient, royal, almost, as if it had belonged to a generation of royalty and had somehow found its way to her. He figured many “lost” jewels had found their way in the Mikaelson collection over the years. He watched them carefully, tried to eavesdrop on them too, but they were smarter than to believe they’d get any privacy in a room full of vampires, and kept their conversation as polite and as normal as possible, as if they knew they had an audience. Eventually, Marcel had better things to do than to spy on the two lovers, and even managed to completely forget about them as Cami had finally joined the party.

“They spend their nights and days with Klaus - you’d think they’d be used to the presence of an Original by now,” Mackenzie complained about the pairs of eyes that hadn’t left them ever since they had entered the compound.

Marcel had gone above and beyond for this party. Dancers, acrobats, the finest chefs and the finest champagne… All the guests were having a great time and were happy to open their wallets to the charity of the night.

“I don’t think they’ll ever get used to us,” Elijah replied. “After all the stories they’ve heard about us, we were a myth to them until we arrived here.”

Mackenzie scoffed, wondering how long it would take for her irritation to turn into something more dangerous.

“If only they knew…” Elijah started.

“If only they knew what?”

“If only they knew they were worrying about the wrong person,” he grinned with pride.

She smirked back and nodded as she looked around at Marcel’s nightwalkers. “Indeed.”

That’s when she saw it, or rather him, a vampire she had come to learn was named Diego, entering the party wearing a shirt and jeans and an unhappy look on his face.

“Looks like something’s wrong,” she said as she watched him approach Marcel, obviously nervous about interrupting his time with Cami.

Diego whispered something into Marcel’s ear, and they could see on his face something was wrong indeed. Marcel started looking around and stopped as he found Elijah and Mackenzie surrounded by dancing couples. He frowned before he made their way to them.

“Something wrong, Marcellus?”

“Yes, actually, Elijah, something is wrong. Where’s Klaus?”

“I’m right here,” the hybrid said as he appeared behind him.

“Good, come with me.”

The three Mikaelsons looked at each other with an amused curiosity. Whatever was wrong, it wasn’t their problem, and if it bothered Marcel that much, it meant it was probably a good thing for them.

They followed him out of the compound, heard him order Diego to find as many nightwalkers as he could and join them at a place he called the Traps, which is where he was taking them.

“For a week now, my guys have been dying,” Marcel started his explanation. “There’s a werewolf in town who’s been killing my nightwalkers, and a witch or two have been helping it, using magic, undetected,” he informed them, barely concealing his anger.

“How is that our problem?” Elijah asked, not bothering to hide his lack of curiosity.

“Rumors are you’re at fault.”

“If we were killing your people we wouldn’t make a secret of it,” Mackenzie said in all honesty.

Marcel stopped in his tracks and turned towards her. Unbothered by his anger, almost bored, and definitely annoyed, she raised an eyebrow at him, defying him to attempt anything.

“Is that so?”

“That is so,” she confirmed, her eyes falling on Thierry standing behind him. “Want me to prove it?”

Marcel stared at her, put all of his anger in his eyes, tried to see something as she stared back, anything on her face, even just a little bit of fear, but he saw nothing. What the hell could she have gone through that had made her so tough? Or maybe it was arrogance? No, it wasn’t just that. She had something, she was someone, someone powerful, who wasn’t afraid of him, because he was no threat to her. Not only did she have Elijah’s protection, but she also didn’t need it, and that was scarier than Klaus himself, and as he finally found fear, it was unfortunately not hers, but his own.

“You were taking us somewhere?” Elijah eventually said after a minute of silence.

Marcel was trying to calm himself down, trying not to let the smirk that had appeared on the girl’s face get to him. He regained his composure, and his usual bright smile came and replaced the angry look on his face.

“But, as you are here, now I know you had nothing to do with the attacks on my men, and I thought we could go and see for ourselves who’s been causing so much trouble in my town,” he said as if he were offering them something.

“Sounds like a party,” Klaus smiled maliciously, encouraging Elijah and Mackenzie to relax.

Diego and a dozen nightwalkers had found them before they had even reached the Traps, and signs of a fight could be heard from down the street. Mackenzie could sense a werewolf and at least two witches inside, and vampires, dying one after the other.

Marcel gave Diego the order to attack, to kill whoever it was that was killing his own men in his own town. Among the screams of rage and fear were laughs - laughs Elijah and Mackenzie thought they recognized. She looked up at him and the look on his face confirmed her doubts. He heard it too, but she also felt it. A smile creeped onto her face.

“Call back your men before they all get killed,” she said, and he heard the amusement in her tone.

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s only advice.”

��Advice you should seriously consider,” Elijah added.

But Marcel shook his head no and ordered more of his men to go in with him. They couldn’t even see what was happening inside. The bar had no window, only a door that was now broken. But they could hear everything that was happening and that was enough to give them an idea of the scene. Mackenzie chuckled, seriously debating whether or not to intervene.

“Perhaps we should do something,” Elijah suggested.

“What is going on?” Klaus asked, obviously irritated he was left in the dark.

Mackenzie smiled as she moved to go inside. She snapped the necks of every vampire there with a wave of a hand, and they all fell to the ground. All but Marcel. The bar was completely destroyed. Only a couple of chairs and tables were still standing, but most of them had been used as a stake and were now resting in the hearts of a dozen vampires. She walked past a temporarily dead Diego and took in the scene.

A man, the werewolf, was standing at the end of the room, with blood dripping from his mouth, holding a stake in his right hand, the broken chair he had ripped it off of in his other. He smiled at her as he saw her, the blood on his face made him look funny and she held back a laugh. A blonde witch was near him, waving at her, her free hand magically pinning a vampire to the ceiling. The last witch sat on the bar, her hair, her face, her outfit spotless, as if she hadn’t been part of the fight at all, but Mackenzie knew she had the highest body count.

“Mackenzie!” they all greeted in unison.

Her smile grew bigger and a laugh escaped her. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We came for your birthday, of course,” Olivia said as she jumped off the bar.

God, Mackenzie thought. She looked so much like Margo.

“Mom says hello.”

“Does her Majesty know you’re here?” Elijah asked as he stepped inside the bar with his brother.

“Of course,” Felicity answered as she let go of the vampire she was holding against the ceiling. He fell with a cry, and her boyfriend seized the opportunity to stake him.

Marcel would have stopped him and killed them all, or died trying, if Mackenzie didn’t have him pinned to the wall.

“Lying to Margo is a very bad idea,” Oliver said.

Olivia gave Mackenzie a hug and whispered in her ear: “Heidi says hi.”

Mackenzie’s heart skipped a bit and as she backed away to look at the Princess, the witch winked. Elijah frowned.

“We have so many gifts,” Felicity said as she hugged the elemental.

“You don’t turn twenty-years-old every day,” Oliver continued as he approached them.

“Who are you?” Klaus asked dryly, tired of being left out.

“Klaus, these are my friends from Germany,” she introduced them, “guys, this is Klaus.”

“Well, you definitely picked the more handsome brother,” Oliver winked at her and was rewarded by his girlfriend’s elbow in his ribs.

Elijah chuckled. “You’ve been here for a week?”

“Yeah, we got here early, we wanted to meet the um…” Oliver stopped himself. “You know…”

“How do you know about it?” Mackenzie questioned.

“The oracles told mom. I mean, it’s not something you see every day.”

Of course the oracles would know about Hayley and the baby. It made them wonder who else knew, and if they needed to be more cautious.

“It’s just werewolf curiosity,” Oliver shrugged.

“Are Heidi and Alexander going to be joining us?” Elijah asked.

“And are they going to kill more of my guys?” Marcel worried.

“Not their type,” Mackenzie informed him.

“To be fair we wouldn’t have killed anyone if they had left us alone,” Felicity said.

“But they went on about how werewolves are forbidden in the Quarter, and that really pisses a werewolf off, if you know what I mean,” Oliver growled.

“Werewolves are forbidden in the Quarter,” Marcel snarled.

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“And you are?”

“I suggest you stick to giving your own men orders,” Olivia said with royal authority, “you are no match for us, as you can see.”

“We don’t take orders from vampires,” Oliver added salt to injury.

“I heard witches weren’t allowed to do magic in their own town,” Felicity continued, “another one of your rules, I suppose?”

“Shall we kill him?” Olivia wondered.

Klaus laughed. “Please, my friend here has been ruling over the Quarter for decades now, he’s just doing his job.”

“If his job consists of stopping witches from practicing their craft and hunting werewolves, then he is an unfit ruler and a change of leadership is needed,” Olivia said. “A good ruler promotes peace among all, and if you’re unable or too weak to achieve that, then you must be replaced.”

“I think there’s been enough killing for one night,” Elijah tried to defuse the situation. “Why don’t we take you to our place, so you can rest?”

“As you wish,” Olivia nodded. “We could use a home for the remainder of our stay.”

“I’ll let my brother show you to our place,” Klaus showed them out of the bar. “I will stay and help my friend clean up this place.” He gave them an obvious fake smile that neither of the three companions paid any mind to.

Mackenzie and Elijah looked at each other knowingly. Here went Klaus’ good mood.

**********

#the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvd #the originals #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #elijah x oc #oc #reader #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #elijah x reader

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wesleyhill · 3 years

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The Throne, the Coal, and the Voice

A homily on Isaiah 6:1-8, Psalm 29, Romans 8:12-17, and John 3:1-17, preached at Trinity Cathedral, Pittsburgh, on Trinity Sunday 2021

“In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the LORD sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of his robe filled the temple.”

May I speak to you in the Name of God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

In the eighth century BC, in ancient Israel, in the kingdom of Judah, there was a king whose actions became a warning to subsequent generations to tremble with fear and awe in the presence of God.

The king’s name was Uzziah, and at first — like so many new rulers who take the reins of power aware of their deep need for wise counsel and due caution for their awesome task — Uzziah was humble. But, as Israel’s Chronicler records, “when he had become strong he grew proud, to his destruction” (2 Chronicles 26:16).

Contrary to the law of Moses, King Uzziah bypassed the priests and approached the incense altar in the temple to bear the censer himself. The priests objected and tried to intervene, but Uzziah forged ahead anyway. He scoffed at the priests who stood in his way, and just at that moment a skin disease broke out on his forehead, right there in front of the altar. Then the Chronicler tells us: “When the chief priest Azariah, and all the priests, looked at [Uzziah], he was leprous in his forehead. They hurried him out, and he himself hurried to get out, because the LORD had struck him” (26:20). And he remained so struck until the day he died.

Like every other story, no matter how seemingly bizarre, in the Old Testament, this is ultimately a story about God — about the sheer mysterious otherness of God. The God we meet in this story of King Uzziah’s folly is a God of power and glory who will not be approached flippantly or arrogantly: “he [scatters] the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He [brings] down the powerful from their thrones” (Luke 1:51-2). This God is holy — He is “set apart,” lofty and exalted, morally pure (whose “eyes are too pure to behold evil,” as one of Israel’s prophets says [Habakkuk 1:13]), resplendent and radiant with eternal life and light: in a word, transcendent. As the book of Hebrews in the New Testament tells us, “indeed our God is a consuming fire” (12:29).

In the year that the proud and reckless King Uzziah died, with the skin disease he received in the temple still spread across his forehead, one of Israel’s greatest prophets received a vision of this fiery, holy, transcendent God. Isaiah the prophet says: “In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the LORD sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of his robe filled the temple.”

In the year that yet one more brash and arrogant human ruler passed away, his pride being no help at all against the inevitable forces of decay and death, Isaiah sees the God who remains unrivaled, sovereign, majestic, unchanging, impervious to the fleeting schemes of would-be usurpers.

No one can see this God and live, the Bible says, and yet somehow Isaiah is granted a vision of the LORD. He sees into the inner court of the heavenly temple: “I saw the LORD sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of his robe filled the temple.” And he sees fiery angelic creatures attending God’s throne: “Seraphs were in attendance above him; each had six wings: with two they covered their faces, and with two they covered their feet, and with two they flew.” And Isaiah hears their voices calling out to each other like the pulsing of an earthquake:

“Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.”

This chorus is so thunderous that Isaiah adds, “The pivots on the thresholds shook at the voices of those who called, and the house filled with smoke.”

And just like so many other characters in the pages of the Bible who encounter God’s searing holiness, Isaiah’s first response to this heavenly vision is to be instantly aware of how unworthy he is — more than that, how doomed he is because of his impurity, his complicity in the evil of his nation. “Woe is me!” he cries. “I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!” It is not only King Uzziah who is guilty before God: it is Isaiah, and it is all the people of Judah — it is, in fact, all the world, including you and me. As we think of God’s radiant, fiery holiness, aren’t we instantly confronted with the wreckage of our lives? Aren’t we like Peter when he came face to face with Jesus’ divine power and said, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” (Luke 5:9)?

“Woe is me!” If we were dealing with any other god, that would be the end of the story. Isaiah sees into the inner sanctum of God’s holy, fiery throne room, and he is undone by it. We are undone by it. But — contrary to all just deserts and all expected outcomes — that is not the end of this story.

Isaiah says that after he protested his unworthiness, “one of the seraphs flew to me, holding a live coal that had been taken from the altar with a pair of tongs. The seraph touched my mouth with it and said: ‘Now that this has touched your lips, your guilt has departed and your sin is blotted out.’”

Rather than being obliterated by the blazing holiness of God’s life, Isaiah is touched and made pure by it himself, made to share in God’s radiant purity, with fire from the divine altar. The white heat of God’s holiness does not destroy Isaiah but delivers him instead. The coal taken from God’s presence does not consume Isaiah but cleanses him. The sacred fire that touches Isaiah’s lips does not abandon him in his guilt and sin but absolves him — sets him free to live and speak in trust and hope.

Alexander Pushkin, the celebrated nineteenth-century Russian poet, once wrote a poem about this scene from Isaiah, and he pictures the coal not only touching Isaiah’s lips but reaching into his innermost self:

[God] split my chest with a blade, Wrenched my heart from its hiding, And into the open wound Pressed a flaming coal. (Ted Hughes trans.)

This heart surgery, where the poet sees the winged seraph invading Isaiah’s life with the burning coal of God’s presence, is what the prophet Ezekiel foresaw when he prophesied: “A new heart I will give you [the LORD says to Israel], and a new spirit I will put within you; and I will remove from your body your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. I will put my spirit within you” (Ezekiel 36:26-27). The flaming coal that Pushkin sees pressed into Isaiah’s heart is nothing other than what John the Baptist foresaw when he said about Jesus, “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire” (Matthew 3:11). The LORD who is lofty and exalted, who inhabits eternity, draws near to us who are lost, ruined, guilty, mortal. He touches us, cleanses us, forgives us, burns away our sin, and makes our hearts aflame with life and love by the fiery presence of His Spirit, the One Whom we name in the Creed as “the Lord, the giver of life.”

After the coal has touched his lips, Isaiah says, “Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?’ And I said, ‘Here am I; send me!’” Isaiah is not only touched to the depth of his being by God’s cleansing fire; he also hears God speak. He hears God’s voice. And as the rest of his prophecy makes clear, that divine voice conveyed to him God’s Word for the people of God. God speaks and sends Isaiah as His prophet to deliver His Word to us who cannot live without it. “The voice of the LORD is a powerful voice; the voice of the LORD is a voice of splendor” (Psalm 29:4).

This Word that God gives to Isaiah to speak to the people of Judah is the same powerful Word by which God brought the universe into being. It is the same Word that was with God in the beginning, the Word Who was God. It is the same Word Who became flesh and lived among us, full of grace and truth. It is the same Word Who said, “The Father has sent me… God sent his Son into the world… that through him the world might be saved” (John 20:21; 3:17, NEB). That Word is the human being Jesus, God in human flesh, God’s voice for us, God’s self-communication, God’s ultimate self-revealing. And what He says to us is, “I absolve you. Your sins are forgiven. Peace be with you. Behold, I make all things new. Believe in Me.”

According to the writer of the Fourth Gospel, what Isaiah saw when he saw the LORD of Israel high on His throne, reaching out to sinful humanity with His cleansing fire, speaking to sinful humanity with His judging and saving Word — what Isaiah saw was none other than the glory of the God we know and worship and call out to as the Father, “the maker of heaven of earth,” who sent His eternal Word, Jesus Christ, His only Son our Lord, to reconcile us to Himself, and the Holy Spirit, who pours God’s love into our hearts and by Whom we cry out, “Abba! Father!”: “Isaiah said [what he said] because he saw [Jesus’] glory and spoke about him” (8:41).

To Him, therefore, with the Father and the Spirit, one God in three Persons, be ascribed, as is most justly due, all might, dominion, majesty, and power, now and forever. Amen.

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let-it-raines · 4 years

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Catch Me If You Can (39/40)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

a/n: thank you to @resident-of-storybrooke for literally everything, to @imagnifika for this banner, and to all of you for all of your support on this story and on others. I never expected to get quite so attached to this one, so I like that you guys are too. Misery loves company and all that. lol.

I hope you enjoy the last real chapter. The epilogue will be coming soon! ❤️⚾️

(If there’s any weird formatting, hop on over and read on AO3. Tumblr is being funky with my formatting.)

AO3: Beginning | Current

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-/-

Outside, thunder rolls, quickly followed by a flash of lightning that illuminates the bedroom.

It’s raining.

Raining.

On the final day of the World Series.

Fuck.

Emma jolts up in bed so quickly that her head gets a little dizzy, all of the blood that’s supposed to be in other parts of her body very obviously in the wrong space, and she has to shut her eyes to keep from throwing up while the sound of rain continues to pitter outside, a continual drip that she doesn’t want to be hearing.

It cannot rain today.

After a few seconds, when Emma’s head feels normal again and not like she’s about to feel dizzy enough to fall down even without standing, she opens her eyes and twists to the side to make sure that Killian is still sleeping.

He isn’t.

In fact, he’s not even in bed.

For a moment, Emma wonders if she should bother to go and find him or let him be by himself wherever he is in the apartment. He was understandably quiet on the entire way home and through dinner last night, and she could practically see all of the gears turning in his head. There’s an unwritten list up there of how he wants to pitch to each and every batter on the Dodgers today, and Emma is almost positive that Killian is currently going through it and changing his game plan over and over again until he perfects it.

Considering the fact that her phone says it’s three in the morning, Emma is thinking that she needs to drag Killian back to bed. He may not fall asleep, but he can at least stay in bed so that his body gets a little bit of rest. Maybe he’ll fall asleep. Maybe he won’t. But it’s worth the effort.

Sighing, Emma pulls the thick covers off of her legs and adjusts her pajama pants so that they’re not hanging below her ass from where they shifted in her sleep. She doesn’t bother turning any lights on, the city and the storm bringing in enough that she can see without it, and after walking out into the hallway, Emma doesn’t even have to look in the spare bedroom or the gym to find Killian.

He’s sitting on the window seat in the living room, his legs pulled up to his chest and his cheek resting against the window as he looks outside, very obviously awake.

Killian is going to stress himself out far too much.

Quietly, she makes her away over to him, and while he doesn’t say anything to acknowledge her presence, he does let his legs fall open in obvious invitation for her to join him on the seat. She does, slowly adjusting herself to make herself comfortable while Killian wraps his arms around her stomach so that the warmth of his palms permeates over her skin to warm her from the chill of the apartment. It’s November in two days, but New York is already cold.

There’s a brush of scruff against her cheek followed by the soft press of lips against the underside of her jaw before Emma sees the reflection in the window of Killian resting his chin on the top of her head.

His fingers tap against her stomach in a pattern that she doesn’t recognize, but she doesn’t mind. She may have come out here to convince Killian to come back to bed, to get some rest so he won’t be like a zombie out on the field today, but there’s something almost soothing about watching the rain fall down to the ground to cover the street under the florescent lighting of the street lamps. Even with the thunder, the sound of rain is relaxing, and Emma can understand why Killian was out here being consumed by it.

(She’d still prefer the rain to stop.)

“What are you thinking about?” Emma whispers.

“You.”

“Liar.”

Killian chuckles, something deep in his belly, and she can feel it reverberate throughout her back from where he’s pressed up into her. “I mean, at this particular moment I was legitimately thinking about how good you smell, but no, I haven’t been thinking about you and the softness of your hair the entire time.”

“Damn. I thought our deal was that you always had to think of me and nothing else. Don’t you love me?”

Killian squeezes her stomach. “It’s too early in the morning for you to be so cheeky.”

“Says the man who probably never even went to sleep.”

“I did go to sleep,” he sighs, and Emma watches his eyes flutter closed in the window. “I maybe woke up an hour or so ago to use the restroom, and my mind just…it didn’t bloody turn off. I have changed mine and Al’s game plan at least seven times.”

Wow. She knows him so well. It’s almost a little ridiculous. Not that she’s complaining.

“Let’s…” Emma hesitates, not sure what exactly what to say that she hasn’t already said. “Let’s talk about something other than baseball, okay? We will talk about it after we’ve gone back to sleep and gotten some rest, but for now, this apartment is a no baseball zone. So, talk to me about literally anything else.”

His fingers keep tapping against her stomach, and Emma moves to place her hands over his, a silent reminder that she’s right here and not going anywhere. She may have run before, may have not known what to do when he lied about his shoulder and his accident and everything that came with that, but she’s not going to run now.

This entire relationship has been terrifying, but she’s glad that she took the leap. They’ve conquered some big freaking mountains.

“I’ve emailed someone to see what I need to do to finish my degree.”

Emma almost jolts forward so that she can turn to look at him, but Killian doesn’t let her, holding onto her that slightest bit tighter so that she loses a little bit of her breath.

“When did you decide to do that?”

“A couple weeks ago.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Wasn’t sure if I was going to go through with it. I’m…I’m still not sure when exactly I’ll go back. The woman said they could arrange online classes for me, and they can help arrange a different schedule. I don’t know if I’d start during the off season and see how many credits I can finish before next season starts up. Or maybe I’ll go all year round even while playing. I could always wait until I’m retired, but I don’t exactly want to do that.”

Emma tries to take it all in and figure out the best way to respond to him. This is obviously something Killian has thought about a lot. There’s not a reason in the world for Killian to have to go back to school. He’s not going to be a physics teacher or professor any time soon, if at all, so this is obviously something he’s decided to do for himself just to have as an accomplishment.

Killian deserves to get to do things for himself.

“I think you’ll figure out exactly how you want to do it, babe. I’m really proud of you for doing that.”

“It’s nothing to be proud of.”

“Too bad.” She pats his hand again and shifts her head back so that she can kiss the underside of his jaw. “I’m proud of you. Unless this is some kind of long con to actually become professor Jones so that Will can’t say it mockingly anymore.”

He chuckles, and she kisses his jaw again. “Damn. You’ve foiled my plan.”

“I knew it,” she yawns, unable to cover her mouth with her hands. “You know, when I graduated from college, I got some kind of fancy ink pen that I never used. They gave them to all of the journalism majors. What do you think they’d give physics majors? Calculators?”

“No, because we’d already own a hell of a lot of those. I might need to get some new ones, though. And possibly find some old books and go through them. It’s been almost a decade. I’m not sure I even remember anything.”

“We can go back to school shopping for you. We’ll have to take a picture of you in your cute little outfit with your backpack on your shoulders. I’ll put it on the fridge and everything.”

“You realize I’m doing this online so I’ll just be wearing my regular clothes sitting on my ass in here. I may not even wear clothes while I’m doing it.”

“Well, I can still put that picture on the fridge, but we’ll have to take it down every time someone comes over. No one needs to see that much of you.”

Killian practically purrs in her ear as he trails hot kisses down the side of her neck, and it sends chills down her spine and up over her skin. “You certainly do. You could see it now if you want to.”

Emma brings her bottom lip between her teeth and tries to rein in any budding arousal. “As tempting as that sounds, you and I are both deliriously tired, and I really only came out here to get you to come back to bed…to sleep. We should go do that.”

Teeth bite down onto her neck. “Fine. That seems like the sensible thing to do, and as an almost college man, I have to be sensible, right?”

“Or binge drink and then study all night for a test at the last minute even though you had weeks to study for it?”

“Do people still do that?”

“I think so.”

“We’re really old, Swan.”

“Yeah,” she sighs as she stands from the bench and pulls Killian up with her, “but I think we’ve still got it.”

Emma easily falls back asleep, especially when Killian closes the curtains and turns on the box fan to drown out the sound of the storm outside, and while she doesn’t really know when Killian fell asleep, he’s slumbering away when she wakes up, his breath coming out in small puffs and his hair falling over his forehead. The weight of the world isn’t on his shoulders right now. He’s not thinking about what he’s got to do today or not do today, and Emma hopes that he sleeps as long as he can.

Hopefully right up until he needs to eat breakfast and go to practice.

But hopes are not always reality, and in reality, Killian wakes up a little past nine and all of the tenseness in his body returns. She can see it in the set of his shoulders and the way that he carries himself as he does some stretches to loosen his body up before making breakfast and getting on with his morning routine. She’s terrified, her stomach absolutely in knots, but she’s not going to tell him that. Emma is sure that he’s aware that she’s in this and wants this for both herself and for him, but she’s not going to tell him and put any extra pressure on them.

It’s more than just one man out there. It’s more than just Killian, but Emma understands how Killian works. If they win, he won’t take any credit for it. If they lose, it’ll be entirely his fault. She’s sure he’s talked himself into thinking otherwise, but his brain will revert back to that.

The storm in the night seems to have disappeared, the streets beginning to dry even if large puddles of rain water are left in dips in the cement, and according to all forecasts, it should be dry enough for them to play today. There are supposed to be light sprinkles, maybe a scattered storm or two, but it’s all sunshine when the game is scheduled to start. If there are any delays, Emma hopes that they aren’t long.

Killian may very well lose his mind.

(She may too.)

He’s currently showering, and while she hasn’t been keeping track of how long he’s been in there, it’s been long enough for her to curl her hair. She’s entirely sure that the humidity is going to cause it to frizz and fall flat, and the network will probably have her hair constantly attached to a curling iron and hair spray until her hair is like a bird’s nest of tangles and product.

Whatever it takes to look good on TV today, right?

She’s supposed to wear a dress or a skirt, something form flattering and attractive for television, but since there are no technical rules as long as she stays dressed, Emma completely ignores that suggestion in favor or her favorite jeans, a pair of trusty boots, and one of Killian’s jerseys, buttoning it up and tucking the front into her jeans. She’ll have to put on a sweater later to combat the cold, but she doesn’t want to do that just yet.

It’s ridiculous, but putting on the sweater means it’s time to go and she’s just…she’s not ready. They need a little more time.

“Are you wearing my jersey?”

Emma jumps and clutches her hand against the chain around her neck that’s visible with the way the jersey is buttoned up. She did not hear the shower turn off or hear Killian open the bathroom door. But considering he’s standing in the doorway with a towel wrapped low around his waist, he obviously did.

“Yeah?”

“What about – ”

Emma shrugs, a smile stretching across her lips. “Fuck them. I don’t give a damn about what anyone has to say. I can do my job while also dating you. It’s not a mutually exclusive thing, and today is a big day. If I want to wear the jersey, I can wear it now.”

Both of Killian’s brows rise high on his forehead, but he’s smiling too as his arms cross over his chest so that his muscles bulge the slightest bit. “I think this is the most attractive you’ve ever been.”

“Because I’m wearing your jersey? I thought we’d gone over that before. I – ”

“No,” he laughs with a shake of his head. “Because you’re saying fuck ‘em to all of the people who we both know will say shit about you wearing that. I personally think they should all pull the sticks out of their asses, but then what would they have to talk about?”

“Happy things?”

“Nah, that’s too boring for them.” Killian walks toward her, a definite swagger in his stride, and the cool tips of his fingers come up to touch her cheeks as he cups her face and brings his lips down to move over hers, slowly and thoroughly kissing her until she can’t breathe. It’s the good kind of breathless, though. “I don’t know if I’m going to kick ass today, but I know that you are. It’s pretty much undeniable.”

“You’re going to kick ass. Think it into existence, twenty-nine.”

“Yeah, but I don’t…I don’t know. I – ”

Emma sighs, and she swears it goes all the way down to her bones. There’s only so much she can say. At the end of the day, Killian has to be the one to believe in himself.

“You know,” she starts as her hand reaches up to her neck so that her fingertips ghost over the cool metal again, “about two months ago I had this really big thing happen to me, and I don’t think I’d ever been that nervous. Well, that was until my idiot boyfriend decided to play with an injured rotator cuff because he was too dumb to say something to anyone.”

Killian playfully rolls his eyes, but she sees his jaw tick. Still such a stubborn ass.

“Anyways,” Emma continues as she reaches up to unclasp the necklace, grabbing onto it and the ring before guiding her hand up to his where they’re still resting on her cheeks. Killian’s blue eyes widen so that she can see every color in them, and they get the slightest bit bluer when she places the ring in his palm and closes his fingers over it. “I was given this really beautiful, special ring so that I had a reminder that someone was cheering me on even when I couldn’t hear the cheers. You had this for a lot of years. I think you might need it back.

Killian’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down before he starts shaking his head from side to side, his eyes closed so that black lashes land against his cheeks.

“No, no, no. I’m just…no, Swan. I’m not taking it back.”

“It’s your mom’s ring.”

He opens his eyes then so that she’s consumed by the blue even as he steps away so that they’re no longer touching each other. Has she done something wrong?

“Aye, my love,” he mumbles even as he opens up the chain and wraps it around her, easily clasping it back so that it hangs around her neck once more. “It was my mom’s, but I gave it to you. I’m not taking it back. It’s yours now.” Killian smiles at her, the soft one that makes his eyes crinkle that she’s come to know as her own, before bringing his closed fist to his chest and tapping right over his heart. “I know right here that people are cheering for me. I know that my mom, my family – I know that you are cheering for me no matter what happens out there today.”

Emma’s not crying. She swears that she’s not crying and that the tears in her eyes are allergies or something, but that would be a lie. It would because she loves him a ridiculous amount, and she’s proud of him over everything that he’s done and been working toward lately.

He’s a good man with a good heart, and he deserves all of the world.

Stepping forward, Emma reaches up to tuck his wet hair behind his ear as her thumb traches over the apple of his cheekbone. “I love you, and I don’t care what Liam or Elsa or Addy says. I’m your biggest fan in that stadium today, and I promise I’ll be cheering you on no matter what happens. Tonight, win or lose, you and I are celebrating, okay? We’re going to sit in our pajamas stuffing our face with all of the food that you’ve been stress baking, and we’re going to drink copious amounts of alcohol.”

He arches his brow. “This sounds unhealthy.”

“You’ll have either won or lost the freaking World Series. I think we deserve a little unhealthy.”

“I think you might be right,” Killian chuckles, dipping his head down to slant his lips over hers. “I love you too, by the way. I��m probably going to tell you that a lot today.”

“You won’t hear any complaints from me.”

“I don’t believe that at all.” He winks, and Emma swears that her heart flutters. “I’m going to get dressed, and then we can go to the stadium, okay? I want to get my practice in early in case it does rain again.”

“Yeah, sounds perfect.”

-/-

The stadium is nothing like it was yesterday morning. There’s no empty field that’s covered in morning dew with a quiet air around it that allows someone to simply sit out there and think about the history of this place that’s happened before and the history that’s still to come both for the team and for each individual player and for those who love them. People are bustling everywhere. Vendors are already in their stalls, executives are walking up and down the hallways in their suits, heels clacking along the tile, and players are seemingly everywhere. Emma wasn’t quite expecting anyone to be in the clubhouse, maybe just a few people, but they’re all watching old tapes, eating food, stretching, and bouncing strategy back and forth.

It’s like being thrown into chaos with no hope of getting out, but Emma manages to when Ariel pops up out of nowhere with a bright smile on her face that only broadens the moment she sees Emma.

“Perfect.” Ariel claps together her hands. “Just the couple I was looking for.”

Emma points to herself. “Us?”

“Yep. Things are about to get really crazy today, and I need the two of you to pose for a picture before we forget. It’s just perfect that you’re wearing his jersey.”

“Why do you need a – ”

“Just go with it, Swan,” Killian laughs as he wraps his arm around her waist and tugs her closer so that Emma can rest her hand on Killian’s chest. “When it comes to A, it’s best to obey.”

“That sounds like a great motto.”

“Kind of like a cult, though.”

“Just a little bit.”

“Shut up,” Ariel groans as she lifts her phone in the air. “And smile, I mean. Don’t look like I’m forcing you to do this.”

“But you – ”

Emma doesn’t get to finish her sentence before Killian is squeezing her hip and making her squeal as he brushes his lips against her cheek so that his scruff scratches at her skin like the asshole that he is.

But at least he’s an asshole in a good mood.

“Perfect,” Ariel sighs. “Now, Emma, I need you to come with me.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s about to get even crazier in here, and I’m saving you from the madness.”

Emma doesn’t even get a chance to tell Killian goodbye or good luck before Ariel is dragging her by her forearm out of the clubhouse and down the hallways of the stadium going on and on about everything that’s going to happen today like Emma doesn’t already know. Of course, there are several things that Emma didn’t know. Apparently, her plan for she and Killian to go home and eat junk food and get drunk isn’t really going to happen. He’s got press obligations that far exceed anything that she does, and then there’s usually some kind of team celebration that they all do together. It could be moved to the next day, but that’s usually reserved as an off day before the city does a parade and other celebrations and…

This is only if they win.

Emma points that out, and Ariel immediately corrects her and says “when.” She’s convinced that they’re going to win, and she will not take any other kind of thinking around her. Positive vibes only.

Emma and Killian are totally going home and eating junk food and possibly getting drunk before falling in bed. To sleep. Everything else can wait. And if it can’t, fine. They’ll deal with that and do all of the celebrations and be happy about it because it’s a really big deal, but at some point in the next week, they’re both locking the door, turning off their phones, and then not letting anyone or anything bother them.

Unless it’s the food delivery guy. He can bother them.

But that’s it.

She’s gained approximately ten new wrinkles on her face in the past two weeks, none of them coming from being a year older, and Emma very much needs the season to be over for her own sanity.

Without a doubt, she’ll start to miss baseball in no less than two weeks.

Ariel Fisher, however, lives and breathes baseball and managing baseball players and quite possibly being the most supportive woman on the planet – and that includes Mary Margaret Nolan and her continual positivity – and even if the Yankees sucked, she would somehow cause them to win by her willpower alone.

Emma has known her in a personal capacity for over half a year now, and she’s still not used to all of the never-ending energy. Ariel probably had a full night’s sleep last night. Or maybe she didn’t sleep at all, and she’s in that stage of sleep deprivation where everything is heightened and you’re hyperactive.

Emma would bet on the latter of the two.

But Ariel does eventually finish talking once they’ve made it far away from offices and weight rooms and restaurants up to the suites that Emma is so familiar with now. She’s also familiar with all of the people waiting inside. Killian’s family doesn’t joke around when it comes to baseball. There is no reason for them to be here this early, and yet here they are.

And suddenly Ariel has disappeared, probably off to talk someone else’s ears off.

“That isn’t rain.”

“That most definitely is rain.”

“Anna,” Kris sighs as he and Anna stand at the windows looking out to the field, “that’s rain. It’s this thing that happens when – ”

“I don’t need a science lesson. I need it to stop.”

“I’m pretty sure the entire team is doing some kind of rain prevention dance downstairs because I think we all need it to stop.”

Everyone turns to look at her like they didn’t hear she and Ariel come in.

“Emma,” Lucy shouts, scrambling up from the couch to run toward her and tackle Emma in a hug that’s quickly joined by Addy.

“Hey, girls. Are you guys excited?”

“I’m bored,” Addy sighs out, which is not at all what Emma was expecting.

“Bored? How can you be bored?”

“Because I want the game to start! It’s taking too long, and we’ve been in here forever.”

“It’s been fifteen minutes,” Liam tells Emma as he walks over to her and scoops up his daughter while bending to kiss Emma on the cheek. “But we’ve been very impatient with waiting even though whining isn’t going to speed up the game time.”

“So it’s been a fun morning in your house then?” Emma asks.

Liam rolls his eyes, and even though he and Killian don’t look too much alike, she can see the resemblance there. “Joyous. And from my chat with Killian this morning, I can tell it was about the same at yours with the sleepless night.”

“Well, it is a big day today.”

“Just look up the weather forecast, Anna,” Elsa groans as she moves to rest her head against the countertop. “It’s supposed to rain in the middle of the game. We have known that the entire time, but the sun is literally coming out. It will be dry enough to start play on time.”

Emma arches her brow. “Was Elsa the one not sleeping?”

“Yeah,” Liam mumbles as he adjusts Lucy on his hip, “yeah, she was. She and Addy sat in the living room all night because they couldn’t sleep. I expect them to crash soon.”

“I’m fine,” Elsa promises even as she takes a sip of coffee out of the largest mug Emma has ever seen. “I’m exhausted, but I’m fine. Where in the world did Ariel go?”

“I have no idea. She was here and then she wasn’t. I’m not even sure why she pulled me away from the clubhouse. It’s all been a bit of a blur.”

“Her nickname could be The Blur or something ridiculous like that. She’s always zooming in and out of rooms.”

“How’s Killian?” Anna asks as she steps away from the windows. “Is he freaking out? Has he tried to run away yet?”

Emma’s hand reaches up to toy with her necklace, moving the ring from side to side and choosing not to worry about the weather any more than she already has. “He’s fine. He’s freaking out, but he’s fine. All he needs is for the game to start so he can stop psyching himself out.”

“I want the game to start too,” Addy whines once more as she falls out on the couch and throws her arm over her eyes.

“Darling,” Liam laughs, “have we ever considered that we made her too big of a fan?”

Elsa shrugs. “I don’t think we ever even had a choice.”

Emma stays up in the suite talking and eating cheeseburger sliders and drinking hot chocolate for the next hour, and it’s enough distraction that she doesn’t really think about what’s going on and the nerves radiating deep from her stomach and out to every inch of her. That only really begins when she has to officially start working, leaving the suite to walk to the ESPN booth and get her microphone hooked up to her and prepped for the start of the game. They have her hair curled again, just like she thought, and Isaac and James most definitely eye the jersey she has on. Emma ignores them, even if she does put on her sweater and take the raincoat the network offers her, and leaves the booth to go find the spot they have saved for her behind home plate.

People are filling the stands, a hushed murmur covering the stadium as the sun continues to peek through dark clouds, and Emma’s eyes are stuck on Killian as he continues the last of his pre-game warm-ups.

This exact day last year was one of the craziest days of her life, and she doesn’t think any of it could compare to this.

“You look like you’re going to vomit,” Jeff murmurs as he sets up the protective cover over his camera.

“I kind of feel like I am. Don’t date someone on the team. It’s too much.”

“I think I’m safe in that department.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do,” he laughs, and Emma doesn’t miss the rare smile on Jeff’s face. “You ready to go?”

Emma adjusts her earpiece. “Yeah, I’m ready to go.”

-/-

The Dodgers score on Killian’s first pitch.

A home run right off the bat – literally – and Emma feels the collective groan around the stadium in her bones. That is not what was supposed to happen. It was supposed to be a strike, then two more, and an out. Easy as pie, right?

(Killian would tell her pie isn’t actually easy.)

But that’s obviously not how things are going to go today.

Sports have really got to be a little less dramatic. Her nerves can’t take it. Can’t things just be simple? Can’t they have gone back to the beginning and have won in four straight games instead of losing enough so that they’re in game seven of the World Series?

“If” doesn’t exist, especially in sport, Emma reminds herself. That’s what Killian would tell her, and that’s what she has to remind herself.

It only works a little bit.

One pitch at a time. It’s how Killian is going to be out there, and it’s how Emma is going to be sitting in the stands talking back and forth with the guys up in the booth thinking the same thing. It’s kind of hard to think that, though, when there’s a continual string of near hits and misses and Isaac and James up in the booth won’t stop being so damn negative that it makes Emma want to scream.

The score is 1-0 in the top of the third inning. It’s not the end of the world.

The looming dark sky overhead is kind of making her think that way.

“I’m too nervous, Rubes,” she mumbles while Killian winds up his arm to throw a pitch. There’s two men on base, both due to errors from King. She’d feel petty and a little glad if she didn’t need him to play well for the team. “Tell me about wedding stuff. Distract me.”

There’s static in her earpiece before Ruby’s voice comes in. “We’re getting married on a beach with no clothes on. Don’t worry. We can get waxed on the bachelorette weekend, so we’ll all be as smooth as babies.”

Emma huffs. “You’re not funny.”

“I’m hysterical,” Ruby corrects, and a part of Emma knows that Ruby and Graham might legitimately get married like that. “We haven’t planned any more than what we talked about last week. Small, intimate, and then a killer party with good food and drinks. Finding a location is hard. Everything is so expensive.”

“Destination wedding?”

“How is that cheaper?”

“I’m sure you can find a really inexpensive place in Nebraska or something.”

“You can get married in Central Park for one hundred dollars,” Jeff adds in, and Emma snaps her head away from the game to look at him. He shrugs his shoulders. “What? I know things.”

“I think the one hundred dollars is only if you want to get married in a certain spot, though,” Ruby sighs. “We’re going to keep looking. Graham said that he’d ask some of his buddies at the precinct if they knew of any spaces. It doesn’t have to be pretty since I know Mary Margaret will work her magic to make it that way no matter what.”

Killian’s pitch lands right in Will’s glove, and the umpire calls the batter out. Thank goodness. She doesn’t know what she’d do if someone else got on base. Then they’d be loaded with no outs, and things would pretty much be screwed from here on out.

Emma reaches over into her bucket of popcorn (she bought the jumbo size because she is stress eating) and stuffs a handful into her mouth instead of eating one or two at a time. One piece falls out of her mouth and down her shirt, landing somewhere in her bra so that she has to pick it out.

“You’re on the jumbotron right now, Emma,” Ruby giggles.

“Ah, fuck,” Emma mumbles as she looks up to see there be a replay of her digging in her shirt. “I hate everything.”

“That’s a little dramatic.”

“Me eating is like a running joke this season. I don’t get it.”

And she doesn’t really have time to get it before there’s the thwack of a ball against a bat straight past first base and away from everyone.

Shit.

It’s not good. Not at all. The two runners already on base get home, and the batter manages to make it to second.

It’s 3-0, and this is not at all how today was supposed to go.

Emma’s lungs are doing that thing again where they’re not taking in air, and there’s not enough popcorn in the world to make any of this better. If the tick in Killian’s jaw is any indication, she knows that there’s no one in the world more pissed at what’s happening than him. They don’t have anything together, and if they don’t get it together soon, they’re going to run out of time.

And then the sky opens up, little droplets of rain falling and landing on Emma’s nose, and that saying “when it rains, it pours” seems oddly appropriate right now. Her sadistic sense of humor is about to get worse.

They can’t lose. They can’t. she won’t allow it.

The rain keeps falling, a steady downpour of water, but it’s not enough to call for the rain delay. Not yet. And Killian is able to strike out the next guy and then get the third out of the inning with Eric catching the hit.

And just like the rain, the play stays steady. It’s not spectacular baseball by any means, mostly just a sludge match as everyone tries to keep their hands dry and the water out of their eyes, and the score slowly improves. Lance hits a good ball to get two RBIs, making it 3-2, and they manage not to allow any runs in the top of the fourth inning.

Good.

They’re creating chances. That’s what matters. They’re creating chances, and Emma can continue to eat her soggy popcorn while she freaks the hell out about what’s happening and continues to try to act like she’s a professional and not overly invested in the outcome of this game like she’s got money on it.

It’s the bottom of the fourth inning now, a chant of August’s name moving across the stadium so that it shakes in anticipation, and the bases are loaded. There are also two outs. Emma’s not saying that this could be the thing that changes the momentum of the game, but if the way that she’s gripping onto Jeff’s arm is any indication, she knows that this could change the momentum of the entire World Series.

“Come on, Booth,” Emma yells out as her free hand hits against her thigh, the wet denim clinging to her skin. “Be smart. Watch the ball.”

August obviously doesn’t know how to follow instructions because then it’s a swing and a miss.

Strike one.

There’s no chance for a strike two because while the rain has been sprinkling for the past hour, it’s pouring now. Jeff is mumbling about his camera and the cover not doing enough, but all Emma can focus on is all of the players running inside to the dugouts and fans shuffling inside while an announcement comes over the speakers that there’s an official rain delay.

An hour ago, she would have welcomed it. They didn’t have any of the momentum then. They do now.

This isn’t how things are supposed to be going.

Fuck.

-/-

“So how long is the rain delay going to be?”

“I don’t know.”

“But can you find out?”

“I can’t control the weather, Emma.”

“But you know things that we don’t, David,” Emma groans as she paces back and forth in a tunnel in the stadium, her hair frizzing around her face and her jeans completely soaked through. “It’s been an hour. Are they going to call the game? Are they going to continue it? This is agony.”

“You need to calm down.” Emma looks over to David with raised brows, and he holds his hands up in the air. “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean to say that to you, but you’re going to give yourself a heart attack if you keep worrying like this.”

Everyone they know is going to give themselves a heart attack, apparently.

“I know, I know,” she sighs, reaching up to hold onto her necklace and quieting down as some people pass by the two of them, probably looking at her like she’s a crazy person. “I’m nervous. This is really hard. I just…I want to be allowed into the clubhouse so that I can see him. He’s going to be freaking out. I just know, and I – ”

David walks toward her and places his hands on her shoulders while he looks down at her with a soft, reassuring smile on his face. She’s sure that he would hug her right now if she wasn’t soaking wet.

“Killian is fine, sweetheart. You are fine. We’re in the fourth inning. There’s still five more to go, whether it’s finished today or tomorrow or a week from now. They have time to come back. You, however, need to be back in hair and makeup because you’re supposed to be doing a clip on SportsCenter in fifteen minutes to fill the dead air time.”

“Shit. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I couldn’t get a word in. You were kind of having a meltdown.”

Emma practically has to run down the hallways, which doesn’t help her appearance at all, and she’s sure that here makeup is streaky and her hair a wild mess that can’t be tamed, and the entire world can probably see her bra underneath her jersey right now. There’s not a hell of a lot that the makeup department can do, especially without a change of clothes besides a dry raincoat to replace the one that got soaked through, but they try their best before she’s standing in front of a plain backdrop inside the stadium talking back and forth about what’s going on in the game, breaking it down inning by inning in a way that she hasn’t had to do quite some time.

Considering she does it all with last minute notice and no notes in front of her, she thinks that she does a damn good job.

None of that really matters, though, because right as they’re wrapping up the segment, they get the announcement that play will resume in the next twenty minutes.

It’s time to play some more baseball.

Emma shouldn’t have eaten all of that popcorn because her stomach is most definitely churning with nerves.

They can do this. They have to. They will.

-/-

August immediately gets struck out, and the fourth inning ends with the Yankees still down 3-2.

The next two innings are scoreless for both teams, and Killian wraps up his game after that. He played well. It wasn’t his best, the weather and the nerves probably impacting him, but she’s proud of him.

She’ll be proud of him no matter what.

And she really wishes that the network wanted her to do a mid-game interview or let her go into the dugout just so that she could see him and tell him that in person, but they seem to be determined to only allow her to stay on the sidelines by herself.

Emma: I love you, I love you, I love you.

Emma: You’re my favorite player (and person) no matter what, and I can’t wait to see you when this game is over and you’re holding that trophy.

He texts back almost immediately, and he must have his phone out on the massage table.

Killian: Will you go out with me if we win? Or if we lose?

Laughter bubbles up inside of her, and it’s the first time all afternoon that she’s felt this light.

Emma: Only if you ask me out on live television like the asshole you were when you did that last year.

Killian: I think I can do that.

Her stomach flutters again, and even though this is kind of the biggest game that Emma has ever watched in her entire life, her eyes keep switching between her phone and the game. It’s pretty much the only way that she can stay calm and keep getting air into her lungs without one of them collapsing and her having to go to the hospital.

This game is going on forever. Literally. Each inning is longer than the last, and the sun is beginning to set over the horizon so that the remaining gray clouds disappear into the dark of night. Florescent lights fill the stadium, lighting up the crowd and the players, and Emma can’t stop shivering, especially with the remaining dampness of her clothes and the chill that’s whirling around. It’s got to be forty degrees out here at the most, and if it weren’t for Mary Margaret brining down her coat for Emma to use, she’d turn into an icicle by the end of the game.

Probably before the end of the game.

Today is obviously going very well.

It’s not just Emma, though. The crowd is starting to get a little delusional now too. The game has been going on for over six hours now, the last three completely scoreless, and everyone is getting restless and antsy and probably very, very drunk.

Some rum or whiskey or several shots of tequila is sounding really good right now.

She can’t have any of it.

And she’s moved on from popcorn to copious amounts of hot chocolate to keep her warm.

It’s now the bottom of the ninth in what could possibly be the last inning of the game and the end of the season, and they’re still down by one run. It’s almost exactly what happened last night, and Emma’s dentist is going to hate her for how much she’s grinding her teeth.

Just one run to tie it up. One more to win the whole damn thing.

Easy, right? Right.

“Fuck,” Emma mutters underneath her breath, unable to keep the thoughts inside. This cannot end up like last night. They’re so damn close. They can do this.

Eric settles into his position in the batter’s box, his hands moving up and down his bat until they’re in the right spots, and Emma would probably give up her entire salary to know just what Ariel is doing right now up in the suite. She’s got to be losing her mind.

Emma is kind of losing hers.

One. Two. Three.

The ball flies off of Eric’s bat, straight down past third base so that it practically paints the line, and Eric is off like a cheetah, quickly passing over first base and turning so quickly that he nearly falls on his way to second base. Emma stands, unable to stay sitting down, and she can’t even hear herself yell over the roar of the crowd as Eric slides against the dirt to mark up his uniform and have his fingers touch second base right before the ball gets to him.

Safe.

Holy shit. They have a man on base.

And August is up next. God, she hopes that he doesn’t choke again. There’s been a hell of a lot of pressure on his shoulders in the past two days, and he’s crumbled underneath it after having some really big opportunities to close things out. As good as these guys are at playing in the moment, the past does have the ability to creep up around them and wrap around their neck to pull them back to the past so that they can’t move on.

August has to move on.

One. Two. Three.

Strike.

Shit.

One. Two. Three.

Ball.

Okay.

One. Two. Three.

Strike.

Fuck.

Emma cannot do this. She absolutely can’t. It’s too much. It’s all too much, and she has to bend down to put her head between her legs. She knows that her phone is going off, that she’s got texts and calls and emails, but she can’t look at any of them. If it’s something for work, Ruby will speak into her earpiece or Jeff will say something.

This is the worst. Who likes sports? This is just the worst.

One. Two. Three.

The ball thwacks against August’s bat, and it flies toward left field. Emma is positive that it’s going to go over, absolutely positive that it’s going to be a home run and that they’re about to win this game. But then it hits against the wall, and suddenly it’s back in play. It’s not a home run, not quite, but it’s enough to have Eric round third and run toward home, his body barreling as quickly as possible before he’s sliding through the dirt once more so that it flies up around him.

Safe.

3-3.

Holy fucking shit.

Emma can’t hear. She can’t. The crowd is that deafening, and while Emma isn’t jumping up and down, her knuckles are going white as they grip onto the sides of her seat. All she can focus on is the way that Eric runs straight into Killian just outside the dugout, the two of them jumping up and down and hitting each other’s backs and asses as every other member of the team surrounds them in a celebration that sends chills down her spine.

Her cheeks are warm for the first time all night, and Emma has to force down the emotion in her throat.

It’s not over.

But that’s a good thing. They have the chance to do this, to win this now, and Emma’s heart is pumping blood faster than it ever has in the entirety of her life. It may very well beat out of her chest.

She doesn’t even care.

The high comes down five minutes later when King is easily struck out, putting their first out of the inning on the board, and even Emma isn’t petty enough to want Arthur King to do poorly when him doing well is good for the team. She’s petty. Just not petty enough.

Will Scarlet, though, deserves the entire world, and all of the organs in Emma’s stomach shift again when he steps into the box and adjusts his helmet. Sprinkles of rain are falling down from the clouds and spitting against Emma’s skin, but it’s not enough to stop the game. Not yet. The momentum is with them again, the game and the championship on their bats, and Emma has never known Will to be scared of a little rain.

One. Two. Three.

A swing and a miss.

Strike One.

One. Two. Three.

No movement. Deep breath inhaled.

Ball.

One. Two. Three.

No movement.

Strike Two.

“Damn,” Emma mumbles under her breath as she tightens the jacket a little further over her arms, her legs shaking and tapping enough to power the electricity in all of the Bronx. She’s going to break the chain around her neck for how tightly she’s tugging on it. It’s fine. It’s all fine.

It’s got to be all fine.

The water is spitting a little harder now, Emma’s vision getting a little bit blurred, and it’s taking everything in her not to stand up right now so that she blocks the people behind her. Ruby is chattering in her ear cursing or hoping or something, her phone is still going off, and Jeff has to be complaining about how much Emma is crushing his forearm.

She doesn’t care.

Because Will is standing in position again, and he’s ready.

One. Two. Three.

There’s a sharp blow when the ball makes contact with the bat, and while the rain and the stadium lights make it hard to see, Emma already knows that the ball is going over the back wall and into the crowd.

Gone. It’s gone.

It’s freaking gone.

Will Scarlet is an absolute legend.

The Yankees just won the World Series.

Killian just won the World Series.

Everything is so loud around her, cheers reverberating and shaking the stands so that Emma can literally feel sounds, but she has trouble focusing on any of that over the sound of her heart pounding in between her ears and Ruby yelling in her earpiece that Emma has to get down to the field.

The field.

She has to get down to the field, and somehow, she does. Jeff must have carried her there or pushed her or something. It’s a madhouse, one Emma can’t navigate, and she knows that she’s supposed to be doing some kind of interview, preferably with Will, but there’s no way for her to find anyone. It’s a mass of players all huddled together and jumping up and down as coaches and wives and children all join in, the rain coming down even harder than earlier.

All Emma really wants is to find Killian and kiss him like she’s never kissed him before.

That’s saying something.

Emma sees him standing ten feet away from her on the outskirts of a pile of men embracing each other in happiness, his hair a mess like he’s been running his hands through it for the past two hours and his smile so large that it reaches his ears. He looks beautiful, ethereal almost, and Emma can scarcely breathe looking at him after pushing through so many people to find him.

That’s when he sees her through the people and the rain and the unending joy.

Killian pulls his arm up to tap his closed fist over his heart, and Emma’s heart stutters at the movement before a slow grin stretches across her lips while she reaches up to tap her fist over the ring and her heart.

She was cheering him on the entire time.

One. Two. Three.

Emma takes off toward him, ignoring Ruby in her ear and Jeff behind her with the camera, and in six strides, she’s pressing up onto her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck, holding onto him so tightly that her feet come off the ground and Killian’s hands scramble for her ass, barely holding onto her as he lifts her in the air and swings her back and forth as they both get covered in the continual downpour of rain.

She can hardly see, the water far too much, and when she cups Killian’s cheeks and slams her mouth into his, he tastes like water and spearmint gum and quite possibly all of the happiness in the world bottled up into one human being.

Kissing him and being here with him is everything she ever wanted and everything she never allowed herself to dream.

“Fancy seeing you here, Swan,” Killian laughs, his mouth still pressing against hers.

“What are you talking about, Jones? I was right here last year.”

“Yeah,” he smiles, the grin the most infectious thing she has ever seen, “but I think I like this year a hell of a lot better.”

“Can’t wait to see how you try to top this next year.”

Killian throws his head back in in laughter, his skin covered in rain, and he finally puts her down on the ground so that her feet sink into the soft grass below her, arms still wrapped around Killian’s neck so that she’s close enough to see the sparkle in his eyes and the smile on his lips.

“You know what, my love? I think I’m good staying right here in this moment for now. We can figure out the rest later.”

-/-

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#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fanfic #captain swan ff #captain swan fic #captain swan

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mayquita · 5 years

Text

Call Me (27/?) - The Final Countdown

A/N I still can't believe that four years have passed since I started this adventure. But I’m not only celebrating the fourth anniversary but also that with this chapter the story has reached 200k words!!! As always, my apologies for the delay, but to compensate you for the wait I bring you a long chapter. It was supposed to be shorter, but as usual, I got carried away a little. And here’s the result. I prefer not to reveal anything else about the chapter, but there’s a note at the end of the chapter with some explanations.

I’d like to express my gratitude to @saraswans and @onceuponaprincessworld for your advice and perpetual support and @chrissascorner for being my beta, thanks for helping me edit the whole thing. You three are the best. Thank you also to everyone else for your patience and for your support.

Summary: Emma loses her phone after a chase, but she finds a phone in a cafe just when she needs it most. Killian forgets his phone in a cafe when he is about to take a flight to Ireland. Killian makes a call to his own number hoping someone answers on the other end of the line. What will happen when Emma is the one answering the call?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8Chapter 9 Chapter 10Chapter 11 Chapter 12Chapter 13 Chapter14Chapter 15 Chapter 16Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26

FF.net Ao3

Chapter 27 - The Final Countdown

I was born to love you With every single beat of my heart Yes, I was born to take care of you Every single day of my life

Saturday, September 30, 2017

Queen's song echoed in the kitchen while Killian prepared dinner, the lyrics and their meaning slipping inside his mind and spreading a warm sensation all over his body.

A thought crossed his mind as he hummed and wagged his hips to the rhythm of the music, causing a wide smile to bloom on his lips. There was no doubt that Queen has been part of the soundtrack of his life since he was just a child, accompanying him in his childhood, changing and adapting to the experiences he went through over the years.

The band and their songs had been his only companions on his darkest nights, first when Liam had been about to die and then after losing Milah, when he had entered that spiral where he wasn't able to do anything but drown his sorrows in sex and alcohol, get into fights —in an attempt to replace the heartache for the physical pain— and wallow in misery while listening to the saddest and most melancholy songs he could find.

It's a Hard Life, Too Much Love Will Kill You, Save Me, Somebody to Love... He had listened to these songs in a loop, locked in his bedroom, repeating the same routine day after day until Liam had taken the reins, as usual, coming to his rescue and offering him the possibility of a new beginning on the other side of the ocean.

Now, five years later, he kept marveling at how his life had changed and how that was also reflected in his particular life soundtrack. He felt blessed to have found Emma for many reasons, but the fact that they shared musical tastes added an incentive to their relationship.

The change had been subtle at first, but after confessing their feelings two weeks ago, they had begun to replace their old companions with songs full of feelings and positivity. Once again Queen put the background music to a stage of his life, and this time he expected this stage to last as much as possible, something like forever.

His smile widened when the first chords of the next song resonated in the room, causing him to continue humming, shaking his head to the rhythm of the music while cutting the fresh tomatoes that would serve to make sauce for the pasta they'd have for dinner.

I want it all, I want it all, I want it all And I want it now.

He wanted it all with Emma. He wanted to sleep every night with her in his arms and wake up every morning with her at his side. He wanted the whole package, the happily ever after. He wanted and wanted. He was aware that it was still too soon — they would celebrate three months together tomorrow —but after so many years surrounded by darkness he was eager to grab every little bit of happiness within his reach that would keep him in the light. And Emma was pure light, like a beacon that kept him on the right path.

He couldn't be prouder of her. After her meltdown two weeks ago when she fell injured, she had been able to overcome her own fears, to open up to him even more, to be vulnerable and express her feelings. She was more affectionate, her smiles were brighter, the spark of her gaze more intense, causing his love for her to grow more and more if that was even possible.

That subtle change in her had not only been reflected in her behavior towards him, but towards the people around her. Now she was more willing to spend time with her friends, was more communicative with her boss and even took the initiative when organizing plans with their friends' group.

It was as if after the accident, she had been injected with a renewed energy to the point that it was quite complicated to get her to be on sick leave for more than a couple of days. In the end, she had agreed to stay away from the office for a whole week and do desk work during the following week, but she would start working at full capacity next Monday, now that she seemed fully recovered.

The memory of her accident caused a chill to run through his spine, especially when he thought she would be exposed to those dangers again. He had no choice but to resign himself, though, and trust her and her abilities. At least she had understood that she now had someone always waiting for her at the end of the day, no matter what happened, so it seemed that she was more willing to stay out of unnecessary risks and return to him every day.

That was precisely what he was waiting, for Emma to come home. She had decided to accompany Belle and Mary Margaret to go shopping since, according to the ladies, they needed to renew their wardrobe with the arrival of autumn. It seemed obvious that she was having a great time since several hours later she hadn't yet returned. He had received a message a while ago, though, informing him that she would arrive in half an hour and that it was better for him to have some dinner ready because she was famished — Her words.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips when the next song began to sound. Somehow Emma had managed to include the bloody It's My Life on his playlist, alluding that, whether he liked it or not, that song was already part of the soundtrack of their relationship. She was right, of course, he admitted to himself as he shook his head.

He cast a sideways glance at the wall clock as he filled a saucepan with water to boil the pasta. The music and his thoughts had kept him so distracted that if he didn't hurry, Emma would arrive before dinner was ready.

Something caught his attention before he focused his eyes on the food preparation again. His gaze shifted slightly to the calendar near the clock. September 30th. A strange sensation settled in his stomach, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to figure out why suddenly that date seemed somehow significant.

The realization came so unexpectedly that he felt as if he had been punched in the stomach while all the air left his lungs. Tomorrow would be October 1st, which meant that in just one month he would be flying to Ireland. For five bloody months.

He shouldn't feel so shocked, not considering that his trip to Ireland was something that had been hovering over their heads from the start. Hell, even the origin of their relationship had occurred when he was there.

He even had a continuous reminder in his usual talks with his family through video calls, in many of which Emma was present. Whenever his niece asked him when he would return he responded in the same way. Soon, sweetheart, soon.

The problem was that that soon seemed so far away at first, so, with the excuse that there was still a lot of time to worry about it, they had chosen to ignore it, not to let his possible departure affect their incipient relationship.

The date on the calendar now marked the beginning of the countdown on his inexorable path that would lead him to separate from Emma.

Just when he left the pot full of water on the counter, the player was silent for an instant before the next song began. He almost expected to hear the first chords of The Final Countdown, as a sign that the universe was laughing at him. Although that didn't happen, the next song did nothing to improve his sudden change of mood, rather the opposite.

Spread your wings and fly away Fly away far away Spread your little wings and fly away Fly away far away

Yes, definitely the universe was laughing at him.

A heavy sigh escaped between his lips as he ran a hand through his hair and swallowed hard in an attempt to drag the bitter sensation that threatened to crawl up to his throat. Unable to concentrate on food preparation, he started pacing the kitchen area driven by the growing uneasiness that had taken hold of him.

Fate was definitely cruel, at least to him. It seemed that all the stars had decided to line up tracing a net that would prevent him from fully enjoying his stay in his hometown, no matter what happened.

Before Emma, the bittersweet sensation and the constant pressure on his chest had always accompanied him a sign that, although he was going to visit his family, the ghosts of his past would always be present, stalking him and making sure to remind him of everything he had gotten and in contrast, everything he had lost.

Now, however, even though he had already left behind — or at least was on his way to do it —his old demons, that bittersweet feeling would still be present, since he couldn't wait to reunite with his family, but the feeling of leaving Emma behind was hard to assimilate.

Killian pressed his lips together to avoid groaning in frustration wondering if his heart would ever be at peace, if he would get the full happiness he thought he deserved, because it didn't matter that he was coming back, he was fully aware that during his stay in Ireland his thoughts would be consumed by a single person, Emma Swan.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he did not realize at first that a new song began to play. The sounds of the chorus finally reached his ears, bringing him back to reality.

Well, come on and let me know Should I stay or should I go? Should I stay or should I go now? Should I stay or should I go now?

An almost unstoppable impulse to throw the phone against the nearest wall seized him. Instead, he just pressed the stop button, leaving the room silent, the music was no longer appealing to him.

He was being overdramatic, he was aware of it, but he seemed unable to stop the spiral of feelings swirling inside him, while the lyrics of the previous song repeated in his mind in a loop. Should I stay or should I go?

Maybe it was a sign. Maybe he was worrying about nothing. Maybe it was best to stay this year in Boston, in this very flat, with Emma by his side. Why then did he feel that this was not the best solution? The mere idea of not seeing his nephews and his niece caused a twinge in his heart. He hadn't even made the decision yet and he already felt a sense of regret in the pit of his stomach. He not only had responsibilities back in Ireland but he longed to see both his family and his friends there.

He squeezed his eyes closed while rubbing his forehead in an attempt to relieve an incipient headache while wondering how he had come to this situation in an interval of only a few minutes.

He alone was to blame for not having dealt with the subject previously, but there was no point complaining now, He had to make a decision. At least before, he just had to worry about himself, but now that he was in a relationship he should also consider Emma's feelings. If there was something that had become clear after her accident two weeks ago it was that, despite her efforts to be more open, Emma still harbored trust and abandonment issues. His heart clenched at the thought of becoming one more on the list of people who left her behind.

A familiar sound caught his attention, pulling him out of the maelstrom of thoughts that crowded together in his head. The clink of the keys in the lock announced Emma's arrival, as if she had been invoked. Despite his inner turmoil, a soft smile tugged at his lips. She was home, finally. The need to get lost in her, to forget everything for a while, seized him, so he hurried to the front door to welcome her as she deserved — or rather as he needed.

Emma still felt strange with the weight of the keys in her hand. Not in a bad way but rather in an unusual sense. This wasn't the first time she had used the spare keys since Killian gave them to her a week ago, but she still had a hard time getting used to the fact that her boyfriend trusted her enough to allow her free access to him, literally. Perhaps the fact that no one had ever had that deference with her had something to do with that strange feeling.

Details like this made her wonder once in a while if they wouldn't be running too fast. They would be celebrating tomorrow that they had been together for (only) three months and Emma not only had the keys to his apartment — and he had hers —but spent half of her time there — most of her time, actually.

Those thoughts faded quickly, though. She just needed to open that door for a sense of peace to settle in her heart. She would be welcomed by the warmth that emanated from the interior of the apartment, by the aroma coming from the kitchen, and by protective arms that would embrace her, giving the moment of an aura of normalcy, a sense of rightness.

What Emma did not expect was to be received with such intensity the moment she crossed the door. She barely had time to close the door behind her when she was approached by Killian, who wrapped her in his strong arms while pushing her gently against the wooden surface, pressing his body against hers, his lips looking for hers as if he was hungry.

After the initial shock at the unexpected reception, she responded in kind, dropping the keys and the bags she was holding to place her arms around his neck while she returned the kiss with the same fervor.

Emma kept feeling amazed at how her body reacted whenever Killian kissed her. It was as if all her senses stopped working properly, leaving her in a state of daze where everything around her seemed to fade away. Well, that was not entirely true, it wasn't as if her senses stopped working but rather intensified, directing their focus to the sensations that flowed from her body as his lips devoured her.

This occasion was not going to be different of course, but before she fell completely intoxicated and succumbed to the sensations, a glimmer of lucidity crossed her clouded mind. There was something urgent, almost desperate, in the way Killian held her or in the intensity of his kiss. Making a great effort, Emma pushed back a little, her hands cupping his face as she searched his gaze.

"Hey, are you okay?"

His eyes were clearly darkened by lust but Emma also detected a glimpse of something else crossing his gaze. When Killian blinked that subtle shadow disappeared, though. Emma was distracted by his words, her eyes drifting to his lips. "Sure, love. I just missed you." A small smile appeared on his face but she didn't have time to appreciate it since his lips were on hers again.

He lifted her up with barely any effort causing her legs to circle his waist as he held her and began to walk towards his bedroom, his mouth never leaving hers.

Deep down, she suspected that something was not quite right, that his reaction seemed too intense, caused, rather than by pure desire, by something deeper. Whatever it was, Killian seemed to wake up suddenly, since, when they were halfway, he slowed his advance, loosening his grip until she rested her feet on the floor. He pushed back gently, his eyes searching for hers.

This time she did take her time to inspect his features. His brow was slightly furrowed, his cheeks flushed, his lips swollen from their brief make-out session. The shadow of his gaze reappeared more clearly, but again, Killian's hoarse voice caught her attention. "My apologies, love. I got a little carried away... I'm... sorry." He reached out to scratch behind his ear, as he averted his eyes, the blush of his cheeks becoming more pronounced. "Do you want this right now? Or maybe you prefer to just have dinner?" He asked, his voice dripping with uncertainty as he gestured toward the kitchen area.

Something was definitely not right with Killian. Emma tilted her head and studied him again through her narrowed eyes. The desire was evident, radiating from him in waves that reached her, sending electric shocks all over her body, blood running hot in her veins. She, of course, wanted this but she was also aware that Killian intended to use sex as an excuse to avoid, for a while, whatever it was that was troubling him.

She reached out to brush his cheek gently, pressing a little to force him to look at her. "I want this, believe me, but I also need to know what's wrong, Killian."

"Nothing." His lips curled up in an attempt at a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "It's been a long day without you and I... I just need you." The intensity of his gaze caused a shiver to run through her body. Emma was aware that his words hid a deeper meaning. The glimpse of pleading in his gaze contributed to that belief, causing her heart to tighten in her chest. He was saying without needing to express it out loud that he needed her to forget for a while. She couldn't refuse his request, not when she felt her skin burning, craving his touch and her lips tingling waiting for new kisses. She could do nothing but succumb to desire and hope that when the time came he would trust her enough to confess what was going through his head.

"Take me to bed, Killian." She whispered before fusing her lips with his, letting herself be carried away by the sensations in her attempt to offer Killian what he needed and get what her body craved.

Once in the shelter of his bedroom, they gave free rein to their passion so intensely that there was a moment when Emma felt slightly overwhelmed. She had learned from the experience of recent months that Killian was a generous person in bed, always trying to offer her all the pleasure before getting his own. This time it was no different in that regard, but his actions acquired a somewhat more desperate touch as he explored every inch of her skin reverently, recreating himself in every freckle, every corner as if he wanted to etch them in his memory.

Her old ghosts from the past made their appearance in the form of a sense of panic emerging inside her. His longing gaze did nothing to mitigate her growing unease. What if ... But then he muttered "I love you, Emma," her name sounding like a prayer and causing any worry to leave her body and her thoughts. He loved her and she loved him. Nothing else mattered.

From there she dedicated herself to enjoying one of the best sex sessions shared with Killian. He looked like a man on a mission, determined to extract every drop of pleasure from her body, playing it perfectly as an instrument, and paralyzing any coherent thought, her mind focused only on him and the intensity of her feelings towards him.

Both seemed insatiable that night. They only needed a few minutes to recover and started the second round. This time they made love more slowly sharing soft caresses, loving glances, and searing kisses while their bodies danced in a quiet tune until they reached sweet release.

Killian seemed calmer after their amorous activities. He lay on one side facing her, his fingers tracing delicate patterns up and down her back. His lips drew the first genuine smile of the night while his gaze seemed clearer, more serene, no trace of his previous agitated expression.

Emma was tempted to interrogate him, but she didn't want to risk clouding his mood again. She felt so sated and relieved to see that Killian had managed to relax that she thought it would be better if she left the interrogation for the next day. Even so, she didn't resist addressing him subtly.

"You know I'm here, whenever you feel ready to talk, okay?" She whispered as she gently stroked his hair at the back of his neck.

"Aye Swan. I know." His lips brushed hers for a moment before looking back into her eyes with a significant expression. "Tomorrow. I promise."

"Good." She snuggled against him, feeling a protective arm wrapping her. "I love you." She muttered while resting her head on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her ear.

"I love you, too. More than anything."

The last thought that crossed her mind before succumbing to sleep was that those words hid an even deeper meaning than it seemed. Something told her that she would soon find it out.

Sunday, October 1, 2017

The sun had not yet risen when Emma woke up the next morning, finding the room covered by gloom and a warm body behind her. After letting out a yawn, she cracked an eye open to check the time on the bedside clock. Too early.

Emma snuggled into Killian, feeling his strong arm on her waist and his chest against her bare back, not an inch of space between the two bodies. Although she couldn't see his face in that position, his soft breathing indicated that he was still sound asleep.

She felt like she was in a protective cocoon, all around her inviting her to go back to sleep. Just when her eyelids become heavy, her body decided to betray her, bringing her back to the world of consciousness. Both her bladder and her stomach protested due to the excessive hours of inactivity, making it impossible for her to fall asleep again.

In spite of the fact that her mind was still partly cloudy, some flashes of the activities from the previous night began to appear, causing her cheeks to blush. Emma also vaguely remembered that she hadn't been able to eat any food, since they had started their coupling as soon as she arrived home, just as her stomach was reminding her with a very loud rumble.

It was the memory of what happened a few hours earlier that led her to turn around carefully so as not to wake him up, with the intention of observing his features once her sight had become accustomed to the semi-darkness that surrounded them. Her heart fluttered as she checked his serene expression, only a faint wrinkle between his brows as an indication of his previous agitation.

She had no choice but to attend to her physiological needs, but, since it was Sunday, she wouldn't wake Killian. Not yet. After placing a feather kiss on his forehead, she got up and went to the closet, to the section that had already been reserved for her, and grabbed a shirt and panties, then headed to the bathroom with stealthy steps, so as not to wake the sleeping handsome.

Her stomach did a little somersault when her eyes landed on the two toothbrushes resting together on the bathroom shelf. She still had a hard time getting used to seeing her belongings occupying a space in his apartment. In other circumstances, she would have felt a torrent of panic and an urge to run. Too fast, she would have thought. That hadn't happened with Killian, though. In fact, since the first time she was in his apartment, she felt that sense of belonging, that she was in the right place.

That feeling had increased to the point that she was comfortable enough to have her own section in his closet or even she had now taken over one of the bathroom shelves. It was a matter of practicality after all. If she spent several nights a week there, it was logical that she had at least her toothbrush and a comb. And her favorite conditioner. And a bathrobe. Even a dryer. A girl likes to have her allies around, right?

After relieving her bladder, and refreshing herself a little — she had ended up so exhausted after their passionate lovemaking session that she had not been able to bring herself to remove her makeup —she went to the kitchen, her stomach growls getting louder and louder.

As she crossed the living room Emma noticed the various bags scattered on the floor while the memory of Killian's reception yesterday came to her memory, causing her knees to weaken and a warm sensation running through her veins. What an intense night!

Once in the kitchen, she found a similar scenario. There was a pot full of water on the counter, and the ingredients of what appeared to be the beginnings of a tomato sauce forgotten on the cutting board. It was like watching a scene frozen in time, as if someone, Killian in this case, had felt the urge to suddenly stop what he was doing.

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, a sense of apprehension settling low in her stomach as she wondered what could have happened. It wasn't like him, someone usually quite tidy, to leave the kitchen in that state. Could he have had one of his panic attacks? At least he had had the good sense to turn off the stove because otherwise, the apartment would have become fire fodder while they created another type of fire in the bedroom.

Emma shook her head to try to get rid of that disturbing feeling. Killian had promised to tell her what had happened, so she had no choice but to wait. After letting out a heavy sigh, she turned on the coffee maker and began to clean the kitchen, continuing with the mess of the living room.

A few minutes later, the delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee reached her nostrils, so after finishing cleaning everything, she went back into the kitchen, prepared a giant mug of coffee and looked for something to eat in the cabinet. Her lips drew a smile of satisfaction when she found the poptarts that Killian kept just for her.

The sunlight was already beginning to seep through the windows, but since it was still early, she needed to find some entertainment while waiting for Killian to wake up. If it wasn't because they were already in October and the temperatures had dropped considerably, she would have been tempted to go up to the rooftop, since it was one of her favorite places. Instead, she grabbed Killian's laptop, the poptarts, and the coffee mug and settled on the couch, ready to do some work.

In recent weeks, she had been feeling more and more involved in Killian's business, especially in the social media section. She could spend hours working on the laptop or with her phone, either managing the website of the business that had improved considerably thanks to her magic — Killian's words — or acting as a kind of community manager running all social media to try to attract more customers, especially now that the peak season was over, but several guided tours and excursions were still available.

Belle had pointed out, on more than one occasion, that Emma worked almost more than herself and that she should be rewarded by being turned into a proper employee with her consequent salary, something Killian agreed with, but she always rejected it. She did not consider what she was doing as a job but as a way to put her knowledge to good use, something that brought her full satisfaction, increasing her self-confidence.

She soon got down to work, losing track of time as usual. Just when she was focused, an unexpected sound coming from the laptop startled her to the point that she almost dropped the device. Liam was calling.

Her eyebrows furrowed while looking at the time on the clock. Wasn't it a bit early for a video call on Sunday? Maybe it was something important. Before answering though, she cleared her throat and straightened her back, placing the laptop on her lap. She didn't mind talking to Liam at all, but she couldn't help her stomach tightening into knots in anticipation before starting a call with Liam, especially if Killian wasn't present. After taking a deep breath, she pressed the answer button while forcing her lips to twist into a smile to mask her nervousness.

The slightly blurred image of Liam appeared immediately on the screen. It was fun, in a way, to watch as his expression transformed several times over the course of just a few seconds. He went from sporting a radiant smile, to changing his expression to one of confusion when he realized that it was she who was answering to finally turn into an expression of regret, probably realizing that it was Sunday, what meant that, obviously, Killian was still sleeping.

"Good morning, lass." The smile returned to his lips, but then his face again showed a worried expression. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

And just like that, all the nerves disappeared and Emma could relax. In these three months, she had been able to learn a lot about the Jones family and she already knew that Liam lived in a state of almost constant concern and had a tendency to overanalyze everything. It was a little exasperating, at first, hence her initial nerves before starting a conversation with him, but deep down she had taken a certain fondness for his behavior.

"Nope." She answered with a dismissive wave of her hand. "But your brother, you know, he's still navigating in the world of dreams."

He chuckled quietly and rubbed his eyes with one hand, as if he wanted to get rid of the accumulated fatigue, before addressing her again. "It's Sunday, I know. Forgive me, love, I have a lot on my mind lately."

"It's okay, I'd been awake for a while." She offered him a cordial smile before continuing. "How are all of you guys over there? How are the kids?"

"All good, but the beginning of the school year is driving me crazy. September has been a very long month." He certainly looked tired, even though it was barely lunchtime there. "Anyway, now it seems that we have all adapted back to the routine, so I hope everything will flow better from now on. But enough talk about me." He waved his hand in front of the screen, his lips drawing a soft smile. "How are you, lass? Is your shoulder fully recovered?"

"Everything's fine." She raised her arm and rolled her shoulder to prove her point. "I'm returning to work tomorrow at full capacity." Emma suppressed the urge to roll her eyes when Liam's brow frowned slightly, wearing the same expression as his brother when he tried not to show his concern. They were so alike that sometimes it became a bit overwhelming.

From there they held a lively talk on various topics, the kids, her new case or the end of the peak season. Despite those nerves of anticipation that always appeared when she started talking to Liam, a warm sensation seized her whenever they talked, as she felt increasingly comfortable and integrated with the Jones family, as if she was part of them too.

What Emma did not expect was that the conversation would take such an unexpected turn.

"Oh god, I almost forgot the real reason for my call." He hit his forehead with the palm of his hand as he shook his head. "See? These children of mine cause me to lose neurons by leaps and bounds." Emma couldn't help a laugh bubbling in her throat at Liam's overdramatic attitude, something he also shared with his brother. "Anyway... there it goes before I forget it again. Do you know if Killian has already bought the tickets?"

"Tickets? What tickets?" She asked tentatively. She honestly had no idea what he was talking about, but that didn't prevent a strange sensation from settling in the pit of her stomach, causing her body to go suddenly tense. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

"The plane tickets to travel to Ireland, of course."

Her stomach dropped to her toes while her smile faltered the moment her brain processed Liam's words and their implications. "There's only one month left and if he doesn't hurry the tickets will cost him an arm and a leg. As always."

Her eyes drifted for a moment as she took a deep breath in an attempt to pull herself together. He's leaving. Emma shook away that thought and pressed her lips together forcing a neutral expression before responding. "No, he hasn't bought them yet. I'll tell him later." She managed to reply in a carefree enough tone, or so she expected.

Although Liam continued speaking, Emma felt unable to process what he said, her mind occupied with other concerns. One month left. How had time passed so fast? Emma shouldn't be surprised, though. She knew, even before they started dating, that that was his life, that he spent half the year here in Boston and the other half back in Ireland. She knew that, they were both aware, but they had decided to live their relationship in the present without worrying about what might happen in the future. Also, back in July, November seemed so far away.

"Emma, are you alright?"

Liam's words brought her back to reality. Emma swallowed hard hoping to drag her unease down as she curled her lips up. In no way was she going to put more worries on his shoulders. "Yeah. I got distracted for a moment, thinking there is only one month left and we still have to finish some projects for The Jolly Cruises."

Luckily Liam didn't seem to notice her inner turmoil, as he smiled back at her, his face showing an expression of affection that caused her heart to calm down for a while. "That brother of mine has managed to involve you in his business, hasn't he?" He rolled his eyes, as his smile widened before continuing speaking without waiting for an answer. "You're doing an amazing job, by the way."

His compliment had an immediate effect on her, causing her cheeks to blush, a shy smile pulling at her lips. "Thank you. I was working right now on it while Killian sleeps."

"Oh, sorry for the interruption, lass. I'll let you get back to it, then." The conversation did not end there, though, since suddenly Liam's eyebrows arched and his eyes widened as if he were remembering something. "By the way, when Killian decides to buy his tickets you could take the opportunity to buy yours too."

"Mine?" What was he talking about?

"Well, considering that Killian will spend Christmas here, we assumed that you would come too." A warm sensation began to run through her veins as her heart swelled in her chest when she heard him. Both the expression of affection that appeared on his face and the spark of hope in his gaze only increased that feeling especially when she processed the true meaning of Liam's words.

"Eh..." She trailed off while swallowing hard to try to drag down the lump in her throat. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times but she was unable to make any sound. It was like she was so busy trying to curb the intense emotion that threatened to overwhelm her that her brain seemed unable to form coherent words.

She had never been invited to Christmas celebrations. Ever. She had practically ignored these holidays by keeping busy or locked in her apartment so as not to witness the happiness of others. She hadn't even considered that possibility when she started dating Killian so she didn't know how to handle so many emotions dancing inside her.

"You have to come, Emma. We will all be here." Emma had been so distracted for a moment that she didn't realize that Elsa had appeared on the screen next to her husband. Her expression was gentle, as always, but her slightly maternal tone, as if he were addressing one of her children, had the desired effect, as Emma managed to get out of her trance. "Christmas at the Jones' house is always special. It has been some time since we brought someone new so I'm sure that with you here it will be even more special."

She was totally doing it. Damn it, she deserved for once a good thing to happen in her life. It seemed such good things had not stopped happening since she had lost her phone. Now that her life seemed to have taken the right path she wasn't willing to lose more opportunities to be happy. And if she had to cross the ocean for the first time in her life to spend Christmas with her boyfriend and his family, nothing and nobody could stop her.

"Okay." She breathed out. "I guess I can use a couple of weeks of vacation since I’ve never taken one." She continued in a more firm tone while the corners of her lips rose slightly drawing a timid smile.

"That's amazing, Emma!" Elsa almost yelled, her voice dripping with excitement. "I can't wait to see you in person and finally hug you."

"Wait for the children to hear the news." Liam added, the wide smile on his face matching his wife's and probably also her own.

They continued talking animatedly for the next few minutes. There was something in common in all the members of this family, no doubt, that was their ability to spread their genuine enthusiasm to others. They got her to forget for a while about the implications of Killian's departure by having her focus instead on her own journey.

Only when she finished the call after saying goodbye and promising them that she would talk to Killian to buy the tickets did she realize that the smile hadn't disappeared from her face since they had begun planning her visit.

Her inner calm did not last long, though. The moment the living room fell silent again, the image of Killian made an appearance, causing her smile to fade and a feeling of unease to wash over her.

He's leaving. He's leaving. He's leaving.

After letting out a deep exhalation she set the laptop on the coffee table and laid back onto the couch, with her head on the arm while she massaged her temples in an attempt to eliminate those thoughts.

He wasn't leaving. He would only travel for a few months and then he would come back to her. She was sure of it, but that didn't stop her selfish side from making an appearance. He could always choose to stay. They both could travel a couple of weeks during Christmas and come home together.

No. That was not an option. She may have lived the last years selfishly, looking only for herself because she had no one to lean on, no one to fight for. That stage of her life had been left behind, though. The love she felt for him was so intense that his happiness had become one of her goals in life, because if he was happy she would be too. And she was fully aware that she didn't have the exclusivity of Killian's happiness. She could not take him away from his other great source in that regard, his beloved family.

The sound of footsteps coming from the hall drew her attention, so Emma raised her head slightly, directing her gaze in that direction. Killian appeared at that moment in her sight, as if he had been invoked.

He was... he was many things, but at that moment she could only think that her boyfriend appeared gorgeous in his sleepy state. Emma sat up a little leaning on her elbows to delight in the glorious image in front of her. His eyes were still partially closed giving him an adorable drowsy expression and his hair was completely disheveled. He was shirtless, of course —she wasn't going to complain at all, his bare torso was certainly a vision.

His lips moved subtly up when his eyes fell on her. "Morning." He mumbled in an almost intelligible tone and then, without giving her time to react, he laid on her, pressing his body against hers and burying his face between her breasts.

Emma couldn't help smiling while her hand brushed his hair. If there was something she had learned since the very beginning, it was that Killian despised having to get up early on Sundays. Whenever he had to get up early that specific day he ended up dragging an aura of moodiness for the next few hours. Today was still early for his standards.

"If you wanted to continue sleeping you could simply have stayed in bed."

"Nonsense. This mattress is much more comfortable." He muttered without bothering to move his head, his low voice muffled by her own body sending electric waves all over her skin. "Not to mention the pillow, magnificent." He raised his head, his piercing blue eyes fixed on hers and a smirk blooming on his lips. He then returned to his original position while making a satisfying sound as he settled back against her chest.

So he wasn't in a bad mood today, that was good. They continued in that position for a while, he emitting soft moans as she massaged his scalp and she feeling his warm breath on her skin.

There was something special in these little moments, where everything seemed to be calm and they remained in their own bubble of bliss, both together, enjoying each other, with nothing that clouded their happiness. Emma closed her eyes as she tried to etch this scene in her mind. She decided right at that moment that she was going to treasure as many more moments like this as possible, since they would be her companions when Killian was away, as a reminder that what she had experienced wasn't a dream, and also as a promise of future. They would share these experiences together again.

"Who were you talking to before?" Killian's hoarse voice brought her back to reality.

"It was Liam. The poor guy is still a bit disoriented with the schedule after the start of school." She bit her lower lip, doubting whether it was a good idea to explain the true reason for his call or not. At some point they would have to address the issue. Why not right now? After taking a deep breath, she kept talking. "He wanted to know if you had already bought the plane tickets."

His body tensed above her, while she held her breath waiting for his next reaction. He remained in the same position for a few seconds while her heart pounded so hard that Emma was sure he would be feeling it.

After a moment that became eternal, he let out a heavy exhalation before pulling up and sitting next to her. Without looking at her, he dragged a hand down his face and rubbed at his scruff.

Emma also sat up, crossing her legs in front of her, while carefully watching all of his reactions. "About that..." His voice trailed off as if he was deciding what to say next. He nodded in an almost imperceptible movement that didn't go unnoticed by Emma and then he looked into her eyes, the ghost of a smile adorning his face. "I've been thinking that maybe this year is better if I stay here."

Her eyes widened and her breath hitched as she tried to process the meaning of his words. His gaze remained fixed on hers, those piercing blue eyes capable of reaching her very soul. He was choosing her. He had made a decision. He had chosen her over everything — or rather everyone —else.

"I mean. Maybe I can travel for Christmas, since I wouldn't like to miss the holidays there. Or maybe I can arrange a couple of trips in alternate months. I don't know..." He was rambling, his hand reaching to scratch behind his ear in that characteristic gesture of his, but then, his eyes bore into hers while his features turned into a solemn expression. "I just know that I don't want to be separated from you for five bloody months."

Everything made sense at that moment. She realized what he had gone through the night before, his struggle as he tried to decide what he should do. She also understood how after making love, he seemed much calmer, his expression more serene, as if that inner struggle had ended with a clear winner. He chose her. I love you, too. More than anything.

She felt a lump in her throat, a surge of emotions rising in her chest as the back of her eyes began to sting. She allowed herself a few more seconds to remain in that sensation as if she were floating. Then, she squeezed her eyes to stop the incipient tears as she lightly shook her head in an attempt to not let herself be seized by emotions and to act rationally.

For once in her life, someone had chosen her, regardless of anything or anyone. She already had that, she could already treasure it as something precious. But she couldn't allow him to make that decision, at least not without first expressing what she felt.

"No." The word came out of her mouth before she even had time to process it.

"No?" His voice dripped with confusion as his brows furrowed.

She felt the irresistible urge to touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin under her fingertips, to make that wrinkle between his eyebrows disappear. She did not resist the impulse this time, so without thinking twice, she got up and sat astride him, her hands cupping his face.

"I appreciate your choice. You don't have any idea of what it means to me." The smile that blossomed on his lips almost made her melt into a puddle. She had to blink a few times to break the spell and be able to continue. "But I'm also sure that I won't be the cause of you being separated from your family."

He made an attempt to reply, but she brought her index finger to his lips and tapped them lightly. In response, he pressed a gentle kiss on her finger and remained silent. This was a decisive moment in her life. She was aware that by making this decision, she was ignoring her selfish side, the one who had helped her survive all these years ago. She knew she was taking a leap of faith, but she was also sure that no matter what, Killian would always come to her. After taking a deep breath, she continued talking.

"You should go. Your family loves you, they're looking forward to your return. Your niece asks every day when you're going back home. Besides you also have responsibilities there. We... We will figure out what to do next year, with more time to organize."

Both remained silent for a few seconds, while she watched as endless emotions crossed his gaze, the blue in his eyes more intense than ever. She felt his hands placed on both sides of her waist while caressing her skin under her shirt in a rather distracting movement. It was Killian who broke the silence, his hands never leaving her body.

"Next year... I like how it sounds."

It sounds like a promise. Like a future.

“So…”

He tilted his head and she mirrored him, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He then threw back his head and let out a deep sigh before his eyes fell on hers again. The intense flash of his gaze was a clear indication that he had finally made his decision. "Okay... I'll go with one condition."

This time it was she who looked at him in confusion. “What condition?”

"That you travel to spend Christmas with us."

She didn't even have time to explain, since Killian suddenly seemed extremely motivated, any inner struggle forgotten to focus on a new goal. "You can't turn it down, Swan. I'm sure Graham won't deny you a couple of weeks of vacation." The excitement radiating from his body was such that Emma did not dare to try to interrupt him again. "Think of it as a way to fulfill your dreams. You can finally travel to Europe and you can also live, even temporarily, near the sea. It's a perfect plan, love."

"Okay, I accept." She said simply while shrugging her shoulders in a nonchalant gesture. She pressed her lips together to stop the laughter that had begun to bubble in her throat.

"You do? Just like that, without objections?"

"I mean. You could have saved your speech. Very convincing, by the way. The truth is that I had already accepted before."

"Before?"

This time Emma couldn't help bursting out laughing. It was as if Killian was living in a state of permanent confusion since they had begun this conversation.

"What is so funny?" He asked in an amused voice.

"You keep asking with an expression of confusion like that." Emma made an attempt to imitate his expression with her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes narrowed, causing him to chuckle.

The liberating laugh subsided after a few seconds although Emma could still feel his vibrant body under her touch.

"That's because I can't figure you out today, Swan. You keep surprising me." The sound of his velvety voice and the tone full of devotion did something in her insides. "But you never answered my question, love."

"It was your brother." She admitted. "He and Elsa convinced me to travel and I accepted."

"So is it true? Are you going to travel to Ireland?" She watched his expression of disbelief, his eyes flickering quickly between hers, as if he still didn't believe it.

She nodded with a slight movement of her head, while her lips curled in what she hoped was a reassuring smile, her hand gently brushed his cheek.

The expression on his face became one of pure happiness, his sparkling gaze the last thing she saw before he pushed her against him and kissed her hard.

The last coherent thought that crossed her mind before getting lost in the incredible feeling of being kissed by Killian Jones, was the somewhat startling idea of flying for the first time over the ocean. She better get used to the idea of making the trip, because there would be nothing to stop her from flying to Killian and his family.

The countdown began. But instead of counting the days left for Killian to leave, she decided to focus on the days left to fulfill her dreams. She couldn’t wait to discover Europe, but what she was looking forward to the most was being able to enjoy the Christmas spirit for the first time, something that had been denied to her before but now, thanks to Killian, would finally come true.

Before you yell at me, Killian leaving to Ireland was something planned from the beginning, but hey, Emma is going to travel too and I have plans for them there. They will only be separated during one chapter, I promise (maybe I shouldn't, given my tendency to split chapters, but that's my plan anyway)

Thanks for reading :)

@rouhn @couldnthandleit @teamhook @malec4everr@kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke @suwya @thisonesatellite @lfh1962 @let-it-raines

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs au #call me #cs au ff #mayquita writes #my cs writings

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04/23/2020 DAB Transcript

Judges 1:1-2:9, Luke 21:29-22:13, Psalms 90:1-91:16, Proverbs 13:24-25

Today is the 23rd day of April welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I’m Brian it’s great to be here with you today as we do what we do and take the next step forward no matter what as day by day this journey pulls us forward and forward and forward through the Scriptures and through a year. And today is an interesting day because we’re kind of turning the corner in the Scriptures. We are moving into a new book, the book of Judges, but we’re also moving into a new era.

Introduction to the book of Judges:

Let’s talk about that for a minute because we really are turning the page. We’ve had kind of a singular leader for a while like Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and…and although they were family and tribal leaders, we knbw their stories. And then Moses comes onto the picture and we’re traveling with him and then Joshua. Things are gonna change now. Like, basically, that whole era is coming to an end and the time of the judges is emerging, and on the other side of the time of the judges will be the time of the monarchy, like they’ll want a singular leader again, they’ll want a king. So, we go into this book called judges and we can, by its name think, “well this is gonna be a book of judgment.” It’s actually more kind of a quick overview of the centuries that occurred after Joshua. So, Joshua has died, the land has been settled. Obviously, there's…he's…there’s still some land that isn't settled and conquered but the tribes have been all given their inheritance and things are settling down, but there wasn't a dominant leader that was installed. You know, like, Joshua comes after Moses. Moses puts Joshua in place and Joshua had been like the right-hand man of Moses for a long time. So, he took the reins of leadership but there was no dominant leader after Joshua. So, the tribes were just basically ruling themselves doing what they think is right in their own eyes, but a decline begins and they begin to do everything they were warned not to do - all of the mixture, the way that they were seduced…will be seduced away to false gods and who God uses, who God uses to bring the people back to rescue the people. Even those people, like we’ll go into their stories and go, like “wow! Very, very different character than Moses and Joshua.” But we’ll be able to see that the people are just doing what they…whatever they want. So, basically Moses and Joshua made things very, very clear - very clear who God is, very clear who their identity is, very clear where they're going, very clear who they belong to. And there’s all kinds of rituals and statutes and laws that kind of govern this awareness. And Judges will give us a picture of…well…of how that can disintegrate, and we’ll find a lot in the book of Judges for our own lives. So, let's dive into this new era. The page had turned. We’re reading from the Amplified Bible this week. Judges chapter 1 verse 1 through 2 verse 9 today.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word and as we…as we do kind of move into this new book, the book of Judges, review the last…the last things in Joshua's life and prepare to move forward and meet some new people, some interesting and some strange people, we invite Your Holy Spirit, We feel the changing of the seasons in the world and the seasons are changing in the Bible as well. And, so, we invite Your Holy Spirit into all of it in the days ahead. Come Jesus we pray in Your mighty name, we ask. Amen.

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And I guess what's going on around here is, you know, similar things to what's going on all around the world it’s just that here, this place is a safe place to gather and we’ve been gathering around this Global Campfire for years. And, so, it is such a joy that we can do this together and continue in community. And, so, yeah, dailyaudiobible.com is the place to go.

Like the Community section gives all the different links to where to reach out on social media. It also is the home of the Prayer Wall that is…that is always happening here. This is a community that…certainly we…we come around the Global Campfire to hear God's word every day, but we are also in this together and that has always been a distinctive. We are community that loves each other and prays for each other. And, so, no, don’t have…we don't have to be alone even though…even though we’re separated a lot of the time right now. So, anyway, check out the Community section.

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If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com as well. There is a link on the home page, and I thank you truly from…from my heart, thank you for your partnership. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address, if you prefer, is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement, you can hit the Hotline button in the app, which is the little red button at the top, or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hello Daily Audio Bible family this is Abba’s Grace I just had to call in because I just heard Val. I’ve been looking at the days and I’m like she said the 15th of every month, she’s got a call in to let us know that she is okay. And I’m just so glad to hear your voice. I was just overwhelmed with your call, not even because of what you are struggling with physically but mostly and mainly because of the lies that were consuming you at the time that you called just covered in shame, just…just like Adam and Eve were at the very beginning of time. The same exact lies that deceived us then is still carrying on today. And I just felt so sad and by how we were feeling from within, your inner man. So, thank you, thank you so much for calling just to hear your voice and just hear that praise and your encouragement to others stating that if He could do it for you, He could do it for all of us. He has done it for all of us. It’s done and it’s finished. All of us are loved. All of us have been rescued whether our physical body is being attacked or not, we can rejoice in the fact that our soul has been set free and that our Spirit is currently completely whole, completely healed, completely delivered. May we all awaken to that this year. That’s what this year is about. It’s about that awakening of the truth of what was finished on the cross.

Hello this is Jackie Saved by His Grace in Oregon. I wanted to thank Silver Lining Cindy in Seattle for her advice. Honestly, it’s made me look around and thank God for so many things that I just took for granted in the past. I think all of us are doing that and it’s drawing us closer to God and I know that God did not bring this virus, but He does have a purpose in that this virus is gonna draw…make many people closer to God. I just recently read a couple about to get a divorce that they’d been in the house together and got to know each other all over again and they canceled the court date. So, I want to thank God for all these things and especially Brian and his family and the Daily Audio Bible. Bye.

Dear God, I just want to pray for the anonymous lady that phoned in on April 20th 36 minutes into the program just crying out to You for help and for comfort for the emotional pain that she’s going through. Oh God, I can feel her pain and sister I want you to know that I feel your pain and I feel for you and more than that Jesus feels it. Jesus has felt your pain and carried you. Oh, dear God, I pray that this sister would feel Your arms around her, I pray that she would feel Your comfort. And thank You God for being there near her. Please hold her together and take her through this and please bring her back to a place of stability and safety and peace. God, please let her know that she’s loved. In Jesus’ name. Amen. Sister, please know that you are loved and not just by Jesus but through all of us who…who love Him and who love you. God bless you sis. Love you.

Good morning holy and beloved children of God who listen to the DAB. This is Allison from England. Although I’m a longtime listener I very rarely call in, but I just wanted to say how grateful I am that the DAB has been in my life this year as a constant, as a challenge, as an encouragement and I thank you for the relationship that I have with God through being in His word through this resource. I pray for you all, I listen to all your prayers and I join my heart with yours in vibrant prayer. Lord, so many people are frightened and afraid, so I want to wish hope for this community and for all those lives that are touched by the people of the DAB. May we know the joy and the peace and the hope that can only come from God as we follow You in our lives. Oh, Father son and Holy Spirit we praise Your holy name and we offer You our whole lives to be used in Your service. Support us, be with us, that we may be people of Your kingdom. Amen.

Hi my name is Soraya I and I live in Fairborn Georgia and I’m 10 years old, 10 and half and you guys do really, really good on the Daily Audio Bible and I hope that you guys keep on doing this because it’s really helping kids in the world and I’m very, very proud of you China and Mr. Brian. And like I said before my name is Soraya and bye.

This is Sharon from Kansas City. I just finished listening to April 20th and a lady called in in extreme emotional turmoil and could barely get words out for her tears. And I just felt so strongly that this is torment from the enemy and that she does not have to…to fight this battle on her own. The battle belongs to the Lord. And, so right, now I just take authority over these…this demonic attack against her that is influencing her emotions to cause her this emotional turmoil as she called it but it’s more than that it is torment and it is painful. And, so, I speak to that torment and I tell you to stop in Jesus’ name. Stop it right now in Jesus’ name. And I speak peace. Peace to your heart, to your emotions, to your thoughts, and we take them captive to the thoughts of Jesus Christ. We ask Lord that she would realize that she has been given a Spirit not of fear or torment or timidity or even pain but one of power and of love and of a sound mind. I speak a sound mind to you. Rest in the Lord. Trust in His name. Thank you, Lord.

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aikainkauna · 6 years

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Movie meeeehm

Thanks to @nitrateglow for these!

1: A movie you enjoyed as a kid that you don't now

-Probs some comedy I'd find awfully sexist/racist/homophobic etc. now. But of course, I can't recall a specific one, probs because the experience is so deeply squicky and traumatic. Oh, wait, I know. I adored The Great Mouse Detective as a kid, but have heard so many "bleh" comments about it later that I don't want to ruin it by rewatching it as an adult. Why take a happy, cherished, pure and joyous memory away, especially as there are so few of those in my life anyway in proportion to the bad memories?

2: A movie you disliked as a kid that you like/love now

-Not a movie, but I was literally too fucking terrified to watch Doctor Who as a kid on cable, because the Tom Baker repeats they were showing terrified me with the title sequence alone. That empty stare and howling, diddly-duming music were enough to give me nightmares. So I only got into Who in my late teens!

3: Your favorite movie as a kid

-Define "kid." I went through several. I loved the Disney Robin Hood, of course, and at puberty, Wayne's World (yes) and The Princess Bride were my own cult movies, before I had anyone to fangirl them with. Ah, the pre-Internet era.

4: An actor/actress it took you time to warm up to

I remember being weirdly terrified and disturbed by Jeremy Brett as a kid, but then I felt the same about Bowie, and... well. Clearly it was my baby self not knowing WTF to do with all this stirring, restless energy that later turned out to be my skinnyandrogynousbisexualguy orientation thingy. And while I'd first seen Caligari and Casablanca as a teen in the early 90s, I wasn't ready for Connie until he pounced me in 2012. I would not have "got" him the same way and as hard until I was a grown-up, with a wide variety of experiences from many areas of life and a boatload of books/learning behind me. Just... no way.

5: A director it took you time to warm up to

-If anything, I've cooled off various directors I was impressed by when younger. So much of the auteur stuff gets wanky and self-imposing, in this Arrogant Artist Guy "look at my GENIUS big VISION and also insecurity about my penis size" kind of way. I like directors who can be warm and have fun and who show some real humanity (not wanky anvilly/kitchen sink-y sort of "humanity" either). Maybe Branagh? I found him a bit annoying as a kid, but now fap all over his stuff because now I'm old enough to Get It. He is the best kind of fanboy director; his geekiness is catching. Listening to his Thor commentary was a real eye-opener into my realising just how massive a nerd he is, and in a good, "one of us" kind of way.

6: Top five favorite soundtracks of your favorite movie composer

-There isn't just one! But Clint Mansell and Debbie Wiseman turn to gold everything they touch. Debbie especially is hugely unknown still, but she has this most amazing, swellingly Romantic music full of sweeping emotion that I just can't rec her enough. Do check her out; she'll give you goosebumps.

7: Three movies that defined your teen/childhood years

-I think I mentioned those already! But as a teenager, Bram Stoker's Dracula, La Reine Margot and Heavenly Creatures were formative. There were others I obsessed about way more than those, but they weren't as influential--it's more like they were massaging buttons I already had.

8: Sci-fi or westerns?

-Blake's 7! AKA "The Dirty Dozen in Space."

9: Are there any movies you own more than one copy of?

-Ahhahaha. AAAHHAHAHAHA! Of The Thief of Bagdad, I own: The Criterion clusterfuck with the awful clumsy cover someone had their 5-year-old draw, the Nordic DVD, the German Blu-Ray because I live on the edge (what with those Veidt Eye Closeups in HD being a hazard to any uterus) and at least three different digital copies. Because I'm me. I also own two digital copies and one DVD of Casablanca, three digital and one DVD of A Woman's Face and don't get me started on the British telefantasy I have on both DVD and VHS. I have spare copies of both the Caligari Masters of Cinema release and the ITV DVD of The Spy In Black, so I guess I should throw them at somebody.

10: Physical media or streaming?

-Neither. Video files firmly saved onto and run from my hard drive. Fuck streaming with its choppiness (ruins the viewing experience for me) and physical media are usually beyond my budget (unless I save up for a Connie DVD). Besides, I rip my favourite movie discs onto my HD anyway. I want to be able to gif that shit, dammit!

11: Are there any movies you watch on special occasions every year (Christmas, Halloween, birthdays, your mother's aunt's wedding anniversary, etc.)

-Used to do Nightmare Before Christmas on Halloween, but not any more. I still attempt ToB every Christmas. And I used to do All Through The Night with wine on my birthday, but as I can't tolerate alcohol anymore, the experience of Watching ATTN Drunk is no more. Someone start a Halloween tradition with me where we watch either The Student of Prague or Eerie Tales (or both) every year?

12: What movie do you most associate with your best friend(s)?

-Gosh, so few have stayed, so it's more like "movie that reminds you of a broken friendship," yay...?! I've learned to try and not associate movies with people that way any more, because it's more painful than it's worth. Connie is my best friend. He's like Krishna that way.

13: Name a movie adaptation you thought was better than or equal to its source material.

-LOTR put in more facial features and characterisation than Tolkien ever did, and did the tales far less fucking tediously. Imagine if you'd had to sit and watch hobbits walking through the countryside for 6 hours with barely anything happening?! Yeah...

14: What genres do your favorite movies tend to be?

-Historical, fantasy, Gothic Romantic, just Romantic stuff on the whole. More old than new movies these days. Why watch shitty modern chick flicks when I have far better characterisation and far less narrowly defined female lives in old-timey "women's pictures?" And guys who actually fucking shaved, dressed in clothes that were tailored for them instead of rented and saggy, whose bodily expressions weren't frozen for fear of "fagginess," and who weren't pumped full of 'roids.

15: Are you a fan of period dramas and if so, what era do you enjoy best?

-Yes. I love me some costume dramas, but I am seriously picky about them--most post-90s ones have been fucking awful and tend to feature shitty costumes and unkempt hair that would've sent real historical people to Bedlam, wobblycam from hell, vomit-inducingly excessive modernisation to be "edgy", and that one painfully skeletal bint they shove into every period drama ever these days, so it's... slim pickings for a history nerd, these days. There aren't many good ones set in the 17th century/Baroque era, which I love the most: the two Baroque dramas I wholeheartedly love are both series. (The Devil's Whore and By The Sword Divided.) The Angeliques and Musketeer adaptations are riddled with flaws, but there are some glowing bits within. As for The Golden Age of Islam... bloody hell, there really aren't that many good ones out there, are there?! ToB and Jodhaa Akbar and Disney's Aladdin, obviously. La Reine Margot isn't "my" period but it's great, as is Dangerous Liaisons (also not my period)--those are so fucking perfect. And the Connie period dramas, well... I think of them as primarily "silent movies" or "old movies," actually. Of those, The Student of Prague, ToB and The Wandering Jew are the best "costume" ones, IMHO. (I'd probs enjoy Lucrezia Borgia and Carlos and Elisabeth way more, were the copies we have not so smudgy.)

16: Name a movie you love that you would recommend to just about everyone.

-Ah, but we know there are always cynical cunts out there who'd give even Casablanca two stars, so what's the point? I'd still recommend it, though. And The Lion King, I guess.

17: Name a movie you love that you consider an acquired taste.

-Honestly, I'm thinking of telly rather than movies again. You will pry my cherished copy of The Time Monster from my cold, dead hands. Does The Devil of Winterborne count as a movie or TV? That's how far back my love for Mark Gatiss goes. Um... Don't Be A Menace To South Central While Drinking Your Juice In The Hood makes me fucking cry with laughter (the comedic timing is what does it. *beat* "Ain't dat some shit!"). Of Connie's oeuvre, yes, I know Bella Donna is rubbish, but Connie and Mary are SIZZLING and horny and juicy and it's Valid as a BDSM porn movie. And the novel is actually good.

18: Name a film you like directed by/starring a filmmaker/actor you normally don't care for.

-Not so much actor/director, but I did *not* expect to love Thor as much as I did, because I expected a dumb popcorn movie but got great adventure cinema with a touch of Shakespeare instead. I really am not the right audience for regular Marvel features at all, before or after. Fuck Marvel up its dumb macho Republican ass. But Thor is fucking beautiful and operatic and poetic and majestic and Pagan and shit. Branagh knows what I like.

19: Name a movie that blew your mind.

-A Woman's Face (1941). Because. Holy. Fuck. How can I keep on finding yet more details in it six years after first watching it, having watched it countless times by now?! And obvs all the other stuff, like the shockingly good female POV, amazing and complex woman protagonist, amazing writing, amazing ensemble cast, amazing direction, amazing lighting, amazing evil Torsten Slinkypussy Barring and The. Goddamn. Attic. Scene.

20: What genre mash-up would you most love to see that either hasn't been done yet or hasn't been done enough?

-Feminist-savvy historical romance with fantasy elements and hot explicit sex that's not shit. Basically, like the stuff you see in my fics, but better paced and woven into coherent adventure movies.

21: The coolest movie you've ever seen

-Too, too many. But Bogie was the coolest. And Claude Rains had the best acting skills. And Conrad Veidt was Conrad motherfucking Veidt. So what with those three mountains of coolness all converging under the Moroccan sky, I'm sure it's safe to say "Casablanca."

#movies #personal #meme #i am leaving out tons i know #but i must attempt sleep nao #i was quoting don't be a menace to myself just yesterday ffs #every time there's an anvilly Point in a movie #i keep screaming 'mmESSAGE!'

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cntcrtainmcnt-blog · 6 years

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Okay I got a bunch of new characters(someone stop me please!!!) so here are their intros! I would love to plot for them so please like that post or just come screaming at me!

BRYAN ACKERMAN looks an awful lot like CHRIS WOOD. HE is TWENTY-SEVEN and while they're SWEET, they have a tendency to get pretty GOOFY. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to I MISS YOU by BLINK 182.

SUICIDE TW

Only child, born in Kola, at a young age he was already a big fan of football. Like that’s all he ever wanted. Nothing else mattered except that, although he did have a teeny tiny small geeky side. He just dedicated his life to the sport.

Younger, he used to be a nice kid, never said or done anything wrong, but then when he started high school, he realized all the cool kids were a bit meaner? And since he was a football player, it was kinda expected from him to stay popular or the guys on the team would start kinda hating him? So her started changing himself to fit in.

In sophomore year, he started dating another of the popular girls. It lasted until middle of senior year, and during all those years, her life just became worse and worse, but since he was so focused on sports, he never realized it. She wasn’t happy, and even with how much he loved her, it didn’t help save her. She committed suicide on the night of February 21.

That, obviously, destroyed him. He started losing focus, his grades dropped, and he was getting threatened he wouldn’t get a football scholarship. So just for that, he pulled through. But he was sad, and he just wished he’d paid more attention to the signs, but he was too self-centred for that. So he dropped the façade. He tried to just... become the nice kid he used to be again. People thought it was just his way of dealing with and he’d go back to “normal” sooner or later. But they never knew what really became of him because after graduating, he got his scholarship in Houston and left right away.

HE HATED HIS MAJOR(social sciences) but except football, nothing interested him? So he just continued because he had to be studying to be on the team.

But in his third year, he got an injury that left him in a hospital bed for a few weeks. When he came back, it just looked like he lost some of his skills. They were giving him less play time, and he was more often on the bench than anything. So after his third year, he just left. It was heartbreaking, but he couldn’t stand being sat on the bench all game, he’d rather just not be on a team at all.

So then started his long struggle to find a job. Since he never graduated college, he didn’t have a degree, so he couldn’t be hired in that field. So he just took on some small jobs, moved from city to city because maybe if he travelled a bit he’d find something he liked? But really, he didn’t, and he just ended up back in Kola.

He got a job, waiting in a small dinner, about a year and a half ago. But now he does both waiting jobs, but some nights he’s also a singer on stage.

CATHERINE WOLFE looks an awful lot like LEIGHTON MEESTER. SHE is THIRTY-ONE and while they're METICULOUS, they have a tendency to get pretty DESPERATE. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to I’M A MESS by BEBE REXHA.

Older of two girls, Catherine was always competitive with her sister, even if they were 4 years apart. She wanted to be the heiress of their dad’s company, she believed it was a right for her since she was older.

But she was always in competition with other girls at school. She wanted the best grades, the best clothes, the best friends, everything.

But it wasn’t enough, her sister still surpassed her, and she was the one to have the reins of the company.

That was the one thing Cathy wanted more than anything, but she couldn’t have it. She decided not to throw a tantrum about it(although she probably did in private, with her friends) and just tried to find a career path. She was good with social events, she had quite a lot of money, and her social network was incredible. So she just started hosting events to help different organizations. And that’s all she’s been doing, but she does A LOT of those.

CECELIA ROSE looks an awful lot like SHAILENE WOODLEY. SHE is TWENTY-SIX and while they're CREATIVE, they have a tendency to get pretty FRIVOLOUS. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to BOULEVARD OF BROKEN DREAMS by GREEN DAY.

Okay so as a kid, Cece was always super creative, and she had amazing writing skills. She’d write stories and her parents would just be amazed by all of that.

They started sending her short stories to magazines, some got published, some didn’t, but she always had positive feedbacks about those.

She was only 16 when she published her first novel. AND BOY WAS IT POPULAR! Sure, she finished high school(she was still in junior year at that time) but already she had colleges fighting for her, and internships propositions. One of those, she just couldn’t say no to.

So right after high school, she became an intern to a famous author, one that already had countless books to their name. But it wasn’t what she expected. It was so much pressure, so much negative feedback, her writing got worse and worse. By the time she left, nothing she published made any wave, barely even selling anything.

It was hard for her, and with what money she made, Cece left Philadelphia and started travelling around the world. She still took some notes down, but she was mostly focused on finding herself. That... honestly didn’t really work, by the time she got back to the States, she already had enough drabbles to write a few stories.

So she started writing again, but instead of going back to Philadelphia, she stayed in the South, in Kola, hoping maybe it would help her become the writer she once was again.

ELYSIA VAN HASSELT looks an awful lot like TAISSA FARMIGA. SHE is TWENTY-THREE and while they're INDEPENDENT, they have a tendency to get pretty BITTER. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to THE ONLY EXCEPTION by PARAMORE.

Her family is Dutch, her grandparents moving to Kola in their early 20s. They were friends, and moved next to each other. With the story of how her parents fell in love, with them being friends the moment they were born, she always believed they were soulmates, and everyone had one somewhere.

So as a kid, she was super sweet, kinda shy even, but she really tried her best to go to others because she still loved meeting new people, it was just hard for her to do the first steps.

She did amazing in school, and honestly she was really happy with her life and Ezra. Probs believed she found her soulmate just like her parents did.

But then he left, and it broke her heart. She distanced herself from people, claiming love didn’t exist and just became an overall meaner and bitter person.

She never went to college, her heart not in it anymore, and just started working in a music/film shop. She probs spends more time listening to music and watching movies in her room than outside.

FLORENCE KNEEN looks an awful lot like MADELAINE PETSCH. SHE is TWENTY-TWO and while they're OUTGOING, they have a tendency to get pretty DEFENSIVE. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to BREAKAWAY by KELLY CLARKSON.

Grew up poor, in a small town of Nevada, but had big dreams. Her parents actually didn’t want to crush her childhood dreams of becoming a big name in Hollywood, they just encouraged her smh.

So her original plan was to become an actress, but after staring in a few school productions, she realized maybe that’s not what she wanted? Instead, she started working backstage, and that’s where her true love was.

Even if they were poor, she always loved to be dressed nicely so she shopped in the best cheap spots and even if it was no big brands, in her small town, it looked super fancy.

But then she got a scholarship to go study film directing in Kola and she just looked like she was wearing cheap clothes all the time.

BUT SHE DIDN’T CARE BECAUSE SHE WAS DOING WHAT SHE LOVED. Throughout her studies, she produced a few short films, which were all pretty good and loved by everyone. Now that she’s graduated, she’s trying to become famous, trying to get more of her movies approved and shit.

Has no intention of ever going back to Nevada.

LIONEL RUBIO looks an awful lot like OSCAR ISAAC. HE is FORTY and while they're HARDWORKING, they have a tendency to get pretty UNDISCIPLINED. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to BELIEVER by IMAGINE DRAGONS.

Lionel was the youngest of three child. He had a brother(10 years older) and a sister(4years older). And both of the youngest were kinda scared of the oldest, since he was a lot ruder and more violent, ya know?

But Lionel was close to his sister, and she genuinely loved playing with him as a kid even if they were 4 years apart.

But then when he was 10, he kinda always had the feeling his brother was dipping in something illegal? And he was right. Their parents were gone for the weekend, so he’d been asked to watch over his siblings. But really he just brought a bunch of scary looking dudes with guns and what his 10-year-old mind thought was bags of sugar. But obvs it wasn’t.

His sister discreetly made her way to his room, and convinced him to sneak out(since he was smaller, he had less chances of getting caught) and go to the neighbour to call the cops. So he did, while she was trying to distract the men. So at 10 years, he got his brother arrested.

Then he just contemplated becoming a cop. Because the ones who came were really nice to him and they told him all those pretty words about how brave he and his sister were. So he just became a cop.

Skip a few years, he’s got a few issues following orders at times, but he’s probs the best cop they have in the station. He got approached then by the FBI and just... went for it. He still has troubles with orders at times, but he just puts his life on the line every single time, probs gets hurt a lot too.

PHILIP MCGEE looks an awful lot like DACRE MONTGOMERY. HE is TWENTY-THREE and while they're CARING, they have a tendency to get pretty VIOLENT. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to DNA by LIA MARIE JOHNSON.

ABUSE TW

Say hi to my broken boy Philip. He grew up in an abusive home, although it used to be only towards his mother. His dad was violent, but he never realized it was wrong because he was a kid and his mom pretended it was fine.

But then his mom left when he was 12, not saying anything, she was just gone. So his dad turned his anger on him, claiming he was worthless and all their problems were because of him. It was only verbal at first, but when he was 15, he started showing to school with some bruises(although he tried to cover them, or just said he was clumsy and fell in the stairs.)

People were suspicious, but honestly no investigation lead to anything, until he was 18. It was then that he finally confessed everything, and his dad was taken away. The reason: he himself got angry and punched a wall, and he got scared if it would go on like that, he’d turn just like his dad.

So now that his dad was gone, Philip was finally free to do what he wanted, and travel, which is something he was never allowed to(he never step foot outside his town before then).

He travelled a lot across the States, even some part of Canada, before settling in Kola 2 years ago. Because he enrolled in college there, in criminality.

Now he lives in dorms, and has a part time job. He still has some anger issues but he tries to control them because he’s actually the sweetest dude you’ve ever met.

#fckit:intro #suicide tw #abuse tw #drugs tw

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