#Boston pastimes

[th3-0bjectivist]

Boston BRUINS vs. Winnipeg JETS - 22DEC22 (A Photographic Study into Mania)

I’m leaving Boston, MA soon and will be headed to North Carolina after Xmas.

So, my old buddy Steve (17+ year relationship, we’ve done radio and written stories together) offered to buy tickets to a hockey game, that being my favorite regional sport. Above is Exhibit A: pre-game, both of us are clean and sober. 

What a light show! Period 1: Winnipeg very quickly scores two goals, demoralizing the Bruins and sending both my friend and I into spasmodic laughter, we begin drinking. 

Above, Exhibit B: One double Jack-and-Coke down per person.

Period 2: Boston played a sloppy game at first, but I began rooting for the underdog as I do, hoping Boston would win just for the sake of seeing Boston win a game, as we often do, one last time, live. Boston manages to equalize, bringing the score to 2 - 2. 

Above, Exhibit C: Two double Jack-and-Coke down per person. Steve manages to pull off the same dopey face as the first time and apparently, I’ve become a swashbuckling evil pirate. This is what being exposed to Boston sports does; it slowly turns you mad, especially when you add alcohol. 

Conclusion of Period 3: Boston beats Winnipeg’s jabroni ass 3 - 2.

     Above, Exhibit D: Three double Jack-and-Coke down per person. An accidental photo I obtained exactly when Boston scored the winning goal, upsetting my Canadian team loving friend and sending me feral, knowing I watched Boston beat the ever-loving snot out of yet another hapless and witless opponent. We exited the arena. When I drove my friend home, we discussed writing another story together and staying in contact. Steve, you’re my brother from another mother. Peace be with you and your wonderful family. Many more friends to say goodbye and hello to in days shortly to come!

[capyclub]

.

[afictionalwhor3]

Daddy's Little Girl

A/N: Ik this isn't top gun but I was looking through my drafts and thought this was the cutest ever so I decided to post :)

Warnings: Reader and Chris get into a little argument and Chris is a little sad but other than that fluff.

Mob!Dad!Chris Evans x Wife!Mom!Reader

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You missed the days when all Bella could do was babble incoherently in your and Chris' arms. She had recently turned four and you felt like time was going so fast. Too fast. She was more talkative than ever and just as curious. She was always asking questions and learning new words. Bella's new favorite pastime has become interrupting Chris when he has meetings at home.

Since before Bella was born, you knew she was going to be a daddy's girl. Chris has been promising her the world since the day you two found out you were pregnant. If it wasn't for you, she would probably already have an island named after her and a pony. The man could run all of Boston and more, but when his little girl wanted ice cream for breakfast, she got ice cream for breakfast.

No matter how hard he tried he couldn't tell his little girl no. Even when she would come and interrupt his meetings. He didn't have the heart to look into her eyes that reflected yours and say no. Time was always going by so quick and sooner than he'd like to. There's going to be a time when she doesn't come running to him, so while he still can he will always welcome her with open arms. You know how serious Chris' meetings can get, and because he can't say no, you do your best to keep her as far from his office as possible.

Chris was having one of his most intense meetings yet. He had told you of some of the problems they were having with shipping. Product was going "missing", getting stolen on routes, and mysteriously "disappearing". They had been going at it since dawn so you have done your very best to keep Bella distracted all day. You took her to the park this morning, then to your get nails done, then ice cream, until she started to get tired and you had to come home.

After her nap, you had to come up with new distractions. It started with dinner and then watching TV together, and now you and Bella are playing dolls together in her playroom. You had reservations about leaving her alone, but you really needed to pee. It was only thirty seconds. You could leave her alone for thirty seconds, but you knew you'd have to be quick.

"I gotta run to the bathroom Bella. Stay here, don't move" You say and Bella doesn't pay you any mind as she continues to play with her dolls. "Bella Grace look at me," You say and she finally looks you in the eye "Do not leave this room okay?" You say looking at her pointedly as you stand up.

"Yes mama" She says then goes back to playing. You take another look at her before quickly making your way to the bathroom.

All Bella had to do was wait for the bathroom door to click and she bolted out the door. She made sure to stay as quiet as possible while she quickly sprinted to her dad's office. She couldn't help herself. She hadn't seen him all day.

"I don't give a shit about that Grillo! Where the fuck is my product?! It doesn't magically go missing!" Chris says standing up and slamming his hands down on his mahogany wood desk. Grillo was in charge of all the shipping and exports. At this point, Chris was fed up with his b.s excuses. He and his top men had been at this since the sun came up. He hasn't eaten, or seen his wife or his little girl all day and the best they could give him was excuses? Unacceptable.

"Maybe you should calm do-" Anthony starts to say before Chris cuts him off. He could feel the vein sticking out of his neck

"You want me to calm down? We've been going at this all fucking day and we aren't any step closer to figuring out what the fuck is going on! One of our most profitable forms of revenue is falling to pieces! All of you are lucky I don't fucking fire you! I pay you all for what?! So you can sit here and waste my fu-" and it's Chris' turn to stop when he sees the door start to open. He figures it's you and now he gets worried because he knows you would only come in if it was an emergency.

Chris' team looks at the door expectantly when all they hear are giggles. Chris lets out a breath and tries to hide a smile as Bella's curly hair comes into view. Chris hears her laugh and her little footsteps as she runs around the expensive leather furniture to her dad. Chris picks her right up and kisses her forehead while she smiles like it's Christmas morning. Bella lays her on his shoulder pushing her hair out of her face and Chris can't help the own smile that takes over his face. He's spent quite literally all day pissed off and in a bad mood, so seeing one of his favorite girls is definitely already making him feel better.

"Where's mama baby?" Chris asks kissing her forehead. Any rage Chris might've been feeling suddenly dissipated while the most trusted members of the Evans family mob watched on. Almost all of them were used to the soft side of Chris that he reserved for you and his little girl.

"Bathroom. I escaped" She says giggling and Chris sighs just as you come through the door. You look around and Chris can see the worried look on your face.

"It's okay y/n. I got her," Chris says as you see Bella resting in his arms. You walk over and place your hands on your hips.

"Bella Grace I thought I told you to stay put. You can't keep disturbing your dad while he's working." You say putting your hands on your hips.

"It's okay y/n. She came in at the perfect time" Chris says looking at you. You hated when he undermined you like this, but you knew this was not the time or place to bring this up. "Meeting over. All of you get the hell out of here and find the answers I want," Chris says as everyone gets up to walk out. Anthony and Sebastian hang back to briefly talk to Chris and say hello to the two of you. After a few minutes however, they join the crowd and leave. When you look at Bella again she is on the verge of sleeping when Chris says,

"Go lay down. I'll put her in her bed for the night. I'll meet you in the room in a minute" He says kissing you softly before you pull away and make your way to the room. Chris can tell you're pissed at him but for now, focuses his attention on getting Bella in her pj's and in bed.

Getting back to yours and Chris' shared room you fall on the bed suddenly realizing how tired your are. The plush of the comforter welcoming you in. Keeping a wild four year old entertained all day was a lot harder than people sold it out to be. You could feel your eyes starting to drift closed when you hear Chris walk into the room.

"Hey I'm sure you're pissed I didn't do anything about her coming in the room but y/n I really can't say no to her. And she really did come in at a good time because I swear I was about to blow a gasket." Chris says coming to stand in front of you so you sit up.

"That's great Chris but you know I hate when you undermine me like that. Not only in front of the guys, but in front of Bella. It teaches her that she doesn't have to listen to me or anyone because you are always gonna be there to bail her out. I love your relationship with her I really do but it's unfair that I constantly have to be painted as the bad guy when I try to introduce any form of discipline," You express to Chris trying your best not to turn this into a screaming match. Chris gets down on one knee so he's eye level with you.

"I'm sorry y/n I really am. It is never my intention to undermine you I swear to that. It's just when I look at her I see so much of you. It's not an excuse but I can't tell you no either, I never could and I never will. And with Bella, she's only gonna be this small for so long. I can't even believe she's already four. Eventually there's gonna be a point where she doesn't run to me. Where she won't care enough to interrupt my meetings or she'll get too big to jump in my arms. I think I'm so scared for that day I don't want her to have any reason to start any sooner." Chris says looking at you his blue eyes slightly glossy as he looks at you and you sigh. You pull him into you and he wraps his arms around your frame and rests his head on your chest. You use one hand to play in his hair,

"I'm sorry Chris. I honestly never it saw it from your point of view. And I don't want you to think I'm mad at you either, it's just I don't want to be seen as the bad guy all the time cause I'm tryna prepare her for the world. I know you're scared about her outgrowing you but I promise she won't Chris. No matter how old or big she gets, she will always be daddy's little girl. And whenever she needs advice you will always be one of the first people she runs to. I can promise you that Chris," You say as Chris looks up at you. You press a soft kiss to his lips,

"Thank you y/n I really needed to hear that. And I promise to do my best to start trying to enforce rules with her as well. I promise." He says and you smile giving him another kiss.

"Thank you baby. Now when was the last time you ate? It's late and I need to make sure you get something in your system" You say looking at him curiously. Chris picks you up forcing you wrap your legs around his waist and gasp.

"I got a perfect meal right here," He says making you giggle as he lays you higher on the bed and spends a better part of the night pleasuring your body. While you lay soundly asleep on his chest he already has plans in motion for the cook to make all your and Bella'a favorite breakfast foods. Because at the end of the day, he wanted nothing but the best for his two favorite girls.

[dev1lm4n]

offering

pairings: jackson-era!joel miller x f!reader

summary: angsty; joel thinks more of your accidental visit, you think he still views you as one of his whores.

pt. 2 to winter coat

word count: 2.1k

warnings: explicit (18+), mentions of sexual actions, sorta manipulative n emotionally unavailable joel, but nothin' too dark, age gap if you squint.

notes: i'm sorry for taking ages! i got accepted in college so things r easier now. pls let me know if u want a smutty pt.3 lol

In the beginning, Joel Miller thought that it was pity.

Morbid curiosity was a close second. It’s like being stuck in a Monday morning traffic jam on the highway and as you creep along at a snail’s pace, a terrible collision happens. Although there’s nothing in particular that’s knotting you and the accident, you feel the sickening curiosity to observe the damage. To stare, to take a good look at the misfortune. For him it’s more than peeping, it’s sticking his nose in the messy pie. Swirling the jam with his dirty, bare fingers. 

He liked to watch you crawl out of the grimy one-bedroom flat you like to call your home. A pretty smile snug on your lips, smelling like the 2003 Bath & Body Works vanilla body spray you got from him. He enjoyed you making pathetic attempts in being friendly with him. You always made sure to pursue, pursue, and pursue, even when the thin line under his unruly mustache was an obvious no. Always made sure you brought him a can of old soda, a half-empty tin of mints, or unlabelled cassette tapes whenever you’d return from wherever it is you go to scavenge. The things you’re offering him sometimes still baffle him.

With a twinkle of admirable optimism, you’d try to bribe your way into Joel’s collection of things. A winter coat first. Then, gloves and expired Christmas cookies. It was a small collection per say, but it’s much better than the left over items you find on your so-called ‘runs’ around Boston. Things are always already picked out everywhere in the city and you could never seem to build up the courage to leave the gates. You’re too weak and foolish to route your way out in the wild. A kiss with death wasn’t exactly your thing. It was Joel’s thing.

He relished in the fact that you and him both knew that deep down; you’re tethered to him. 

Joel Miller pitied you with every inch of his aching body and perhaps that’s why he’s constantly finding himself waiting for you. Legs spread on his half-sunken couch, vodka in hand as he expected you to knock on his door. Three was the number you’d always knock. Thursdays and Sundays were your favorite days since you’re usually free of duties. Ten was the amount of steps you took. Sweet was your scent and darlin’ was your name.

You’re his favorite pastime show. That’s why he's bothered when you stopped coming on schedule, stopped following the sacred routine. Joel’s first instinct was of a petulant child. At first, it was reaping new helpless damsels to pamper. Then comes the unnecessary aggression. Quarrels that had him littered in royal blue bruises and everyone that crossed him dead in a ditch. But you never came. Never knocked on his door again.

Until now.

You’re gone before he knows it. Cookies were your offering this time, decent ones that don't taste like sandpaper. Does this mean you’d need him again? He swore he tried to wait it out. Tried to sit still in the qualms of his home, hoping for you to be the one to relapse into his tousled salt-and-pepper and sharp pine scent. But you didn’t. You hadn’t come over to knock three times on his door on a Thursday afternoon and took ten steps to get wrapped up in his fingers. 

He’s now actively seeking for you. Asking around as subtle as he could to figure out what exactly you do these days. Tommy said a seamstress, others said preschool teacher, then a few said stablehand as well. Every time he barged his way into a shop, calmly asking for your whereabouts, he’d always be met with a head shake. You’re a ghost it seems. The more he searched for you, the more you delve deep into nonexistence. That or you’ve deliberately played cat and mouse to avoid him. Afraid that he’d be dragging you back to the trenches of Boston, of who you and him were.

It’s not hard to catch a whiff of Joel Miller when he’s coming your way. He’s tall and brooding. A cloud of grump, stomping his way through town. People will talk. Anytime someone mentions his trudging footsteps, you’d be out of that facility in a second. Your role in the commune was to help out in a multitude of jobs, which means endless hiding spots from the thunder that’s tailing you around. You knew that scurrying away from him means avoiding him for just a limited period of time. You knew that he’d end up figuring out your pretty little tactics like he’s always had, but it’s better than the alternative: confrontation.

An odd rush of dread coursed through your veins at the mere sight of him. 

Everything came back to you in an instant. The thing is, there used to be a locked chest on the back of your head. A place where you managed to compress the terrible things you’ve witnessed and comprehended throughout all these years of surviving. All the death, vile gore, the things that teared away every inch of your humanity. It’s all jumbled up with the scarce romance and twisted affection you received in between. Your Pandora's box has grown dusty from the years you’ve spent in Jackson, draped by a blanket of comfort and pushed even further into where no one could reach. Sure, it’s unresolved, but at least you don’t have to look at that ugly part of you ever again. 

Those steely eyes of his was the key and even without having him say anything, he’s unleashed the flipside of what you are. Alarms blared in your head. The red and blue lights flashing brightly in the gathering gloom of winter evening. He was trouble and you knew it.

You were quick to shut the door close again, but he was even faster in lodging his arms between the door and the frame. He didn’t push forcefully like he’s interested in breaking in. He’s just stopping you from closing the door, effectively creating a gap. Carrying heavy logs of wood and slabs of meat might’ve increased your strength by a bit, but Joel was no match for you. It’s impossible to beat him in the one thing he’s good at.

You gave up.

From your warm lungs came white clouds as you heaved in front of him, knuckles grown equally white against the edge of the birch wood. You looked up at him. He’s looking down at you and now you two are engaged in some fucked up version of a staring contest. Three apparent lines of horizontal wrinkles appeared on his forehead, then a couple in between his knitted brows. You could watch his rounded brown eyes droop, a gleam of hope flourished. He’s silently begging you to undo your resolve.

You gave in.

Your front door creaked open. The dense brick wall you’ve built for five consecutive years was torn away at his arrival. Brick by brick, little by little. Your bodies’ slight tilt to the side was your idea of a warm welcome into the heavenly space you’ve considered home. It’s infinitely better than the flat you owned in Boston. It’s a lot more personal; cluttered with old photographs, borrowed books, and lukewarm herbal tea. Most of it was just ways to fill the empty shell you’ve become. He took a step forward, then politely toed his muddy work boots off near your neatly arranged shoe rack. Wordlessly at that.

“Joel.”

The older looked back at your imposing figure, heart pounding against his ribcage at the trivial mention of his name.

“What are you doing here?”

You sounded distant, unlike the cheery version that came up to his doorstep the previous day. Yet your tone still reeked of the same old youth and innocence.

He swallowed thin air, hoping that it’d relieve the bitter taste on the back of his tongue.

“Your cookies.”

He uttered like it held some sort of relevance. When he’s met with a cute quirk of your eyebrow, he tounged the insides of his cheek. Nervous.

“It’s an offering, isn’t it?”

He questioned. Joel was unsure, you knew that much from the way he’s searching behind your expressive eyes. 

An offering was a phrase you haven’t heard since you’ve last met him. Flashes of memories replayed like old film shot on an analog camera on the back of your head, blurry and vague. You remembered the heat of the summer, the busy chirps of cicadas. He joked about how you’d always bring him an offering every time you needed something. How it reminded him of a fat tabby cat who’d always bring him dead rats in exchange for tuna treats back in the day. You remembered how you sulked, all pouty, because he’d just compared your small gifts to a dead rat. He’d then comfort you and peppered heated kisses. Scruff against the smooth of your skin.

Why are you remembering all this?

“No, Joel. It wasn’t– I don’t.. I don’t do that anymore.”

Your gaze grew pensive, wondering if he thought you're still the same girl you were. The same girl who’d suck his cock for a stupid periwinkle winter coat. There wasn’t anything wrong with prostitution, especially when it’s the only thing keeping you alive and well. It’s just that you’ve grown so much from that place. Your hair stopped shedding from the terrible diet you used to survive on, a bite of a dehydrated protein bar and tap water. Your cheeks were fuller, even when it’s still flushed with the exact same hues. You weren’t constantly freezing and jittering. Jackson shaped a new person out of a broken mold.

“I wasn’t.. implying on that. I was just– Well, I thought..”

He took a sharp breath.

“I thought you needed me.”

He confessed. Joel took another risky step forward, wooden boards creaking an ugly tone beneath his feet. You felt raw at his confession. The scabs were picked and yanked apart at every edge. There was nothing to hide your throbbing pain away with. No blankets of kind words. It bled quietly under his longing gaze. You knew where he's heading and no matter the name of the town it's nowhere good. 

“I’m not the same girl, Joel.”

“I know, it’s just–”

“I don’t need you to protect me from anything. Do you think all my problems get solved when a big strong man shows up? Well, guess what–”

“No, I–”

“No. You listen to me.”

“I need you.”

You scoffed at what he said. A look of disbelief curved your eyebrows upwards and left your jaw slacked, as if you just heard the world’s stupidest joke coming from the world’s largest asshole. Did he really think sweet dolled-up words would help him get you right back in his lap? Ready for him to use whenever and wherever he pleases. Ready to get discarded once again as if you’re some sort of one-use paper cup in a shabby office. He took another step forward. This time, the light from the fireplace hit him in a way that made him look the same way he did five years ago. The glint of hope, the unspoken words, the twisted sense of belonging.

“Don’t say you need me when you leave and you leave again.”

You swore you could feel the agony making its way to the lilt of your voice. It’s bitter against the back of your throat. It didn’t matter that you were the one who physically left him when you disappeared out of Boston. He’s never even there to begin with. Not one inch of his heart was ever present when you were splayed out naked on his mattress, or when his fingers curled around your plush insides, or when your legs hooked around him, or when you told him how much he meant to you despite only being a quick fuck for him. 

Silence fell over the both of you. You felt his frown and the way his warm ragged breath penetrated the cold air. You heard the ticking of your clock as you counted every second passing and the heavy, doubtful steps he took. You saw him curling a large hand against your skin to cup your cheek, testing the currents and seeing whether he’d managed to crack your resolve like he’d always have.

Everything felt so right. So familiar. Even when it’s wrong.

You’re crumpling, slotting right into the safe net he’s providing. A tear rolled down your cheek. The crowbar swung in slow motion, even when you’re doing everything to stop it. Joel Miller rendered you helpless. He made you feel like the girl you were. Then, like a poorly edited movie, there is no impact or sound of breaking glass, only a raining down of fragments sharp enough to pierce your firmness. 

You sobbed. He cradled you in his arms, gently, like you actually mattered for once.

[suchathrilltobeagirl]

“Hi and Good Morning Girlfriend!”

You are exactly 150% correct that Jesus didn’t come to this world in the flesh to judge anyone whatsoever. Jesus’ whole purpose in coming was our, everyone’s, salvation by becoming “our sin” as “His sin” on the cross. That is totally what Jesus’ mission was and what Jesus completely accomplished by taking “my sin” away from me by washing it away by His blood when I obeyed Him in the waters of baptism and being sealed by my Sweet-Sweet Holy Spirit. Faith in God thru Jesus has saved me! I chose the narrow gate that leads to eternal salvation. That is the choice I took being “clothed in Christ”! “Praise be to God Almighty that the blood of Jesus took away God’s wrath and reveals God as my adopted Father and His Son continues walking with me thru my Holy Spirit in dwelling forever within me as One. That no one can ever take away from anyone. Thank you for your heart and spirit Katie!

I will be traveling this weekend with my wife to the mountains of Colorado. We will be gone a week. Seeing God’s marvelous creation. Although I see His marvelous creation in Kansas almost every day as well. I’ve never been to England, although I would love too. What part of England do you live in girl? I praise God for you as I believe He gave you as a beautiful gift of friendship in this relationship of heart and spirit.

Heather Caroline H., “the gal Jesus loves!”

Hope you have a blessed time in the Colorado mountains! I love it there, the serenity, the 'loneliness'! Just bear in mind that, at 5,000 feet, the air is much thinner and oxygen levels reduced. You will tire more easily and you must rest whenever you feel the need to do so. It could also be an age thing!

I live near Cambridge in the south of England, and I love it here. It is much like Boston in that it is a university city, but it has a much longer history, as you can imagine. Cambridge University was established in 1209 (!) and was England's second university behind Oxford, which was established in 1096, 30 years after the Norman conquest and almost 300 years before England colonised the New World (aka America!)...

What you can see in the foreground is a favourite pastime in Cambridge and it is called 'punting', pushing a long narrow boat using a pole, bit like Venice but less stressful. If you ever make it over here and fancy having a 'punt', I'd avoid wearing heels - in case you make a hole in the boat, and make sure you do not wear a short dress, else your dignity will be lost should you sit down. I speak from experience on the latter!

Katie xxx

[jerzwriter]

Picture This

This beautiful commission is from the lovely @/artbyainna on Instagram. Once again, she is just magnificent.

Book:                   Open Heart (Post Series)

Pairing:                Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Kaycee)

Rating:                 Teen +

Warning: A little frisky at the end, but nothing crazy at all.

Category:            Fluff

Summary:   Ethan and Kaycee are off to take engagement photos, but Ethan's reluctance is putting a damper on the mood.

Words: 976

A/N: Ethan & Kaycee became engaged in This Christmas. It was an impromptu proposal, and Ethan gave her a temporary ring (that Kaycee will always cherish more than any ring to follow). I don't see either of them as wrapped up in traditional/commercial ideas of romance. The love they share together is what matters most to them. So, while he's anxious to take her ring shopping, their busy schedules have made it difficult, and it just hasn't been a priority. There was one aborted attempt when pushy salespeople had Kaycee close to saying, "No ring!" That brings us to this fic where a well-intentioned gift from their best man stirs a little something... I hope you enjoy it!

“This is preposterous.”

Kaycee glanced impishly across the table at her finance. Eventually, biting her lip to keep her giggles at bay. Perhaps it wasn’t polite or even kind, but watching Ethan Ramsey get so incredibly flustered was now one of her favorite pastimes. Particularly when it was over nothing at all.

“Ethan,” she said, gently stroking his arm. “You’re making entirely too much of this. What’s so horrible about walking around Boston and taking some pictures together? Unless you’re embarrassed to be seen with me?”

His head flung in her direction, unable to believe what he had heard.

“Embar… Embarrassed? To be seen with you? Please tell me you’re joking, Kaycee.” 

And that was it… she could have bitten her lip until it bled, but it wouldn’t have been able to hold her back now. He wanted to be angry at her, at least annoyed, but with eyes shut tight, face turned cherry-red, and clenching her from giggling so hard… he would be miffed if she wasn’t so damn adorable. When she finally came up for air, she wasn’t greeted with a scowl but a delightful smirk, and Ethan could only think of two words: she wins.

“Ethan,” Kaycee gasped for air. “You’re just too easy, dear. Why are you getting so upset over taking some pictures.”

“Because there is no need to do them today.”

“Yes, there is. Because Tobias’s brother is in town today, and your best man to be offered his services to us. It’s not every day we have a world-renowned photographer at our service… for free!”

“So we’re clear, I have plenty of money. If you want me to hire a photographer on another day, I can.”

“I’m aware of the size of your impressive… net worth,” she coughed. “But really, this is getting out of hand. Why are you making so much of this? Do you not like Jordan?”

“I like Jordan just fine. If we’re being honest, he’s the least annoying of the Carrick brothers.”

“Then why are you being such a grump!”

Ethan took Kaycee’s hand and pulled her onto his lap, releasing a deep sigh of surrender.

“I know I’m acting like a child….”

“Nooooooo!” Kaycee interrupted.

“Can I finish?”

After a quick peck on the cheek, Kaycee nodded. “Of course, my love.”

“I just don’t feel like we should be taking engagement photos today.”

“Why?” Kaycee gasped in mock horror. “Please tell me you’re not having second thoughts.”

“No…NO! You know I’m not.”

“Yeah, who else would put up with you,” she grinned. “But seriously, we’re engaged… why shouldn’t we take engagement photos?”

“Because…. Because I haven’t gotten your ring yet.”

Kaycee pulled Ethan’s signet ring, which she wore on a chain around her neck, from underneath her sweater.

“Uh… this little guy here begs to differ. It’s a ring, is it not?”

“It’s a temporary ring until we get your real one. And since we haven’t been able to go shopping yet… wouldn’t you like to have a big diamond on your hand in these photos?”

“Oh, Ethan,” she said with sincerity. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Some people get married and never even get an engagement ring? It’s not really necessary.”

“Well, not my fiance!”

“I’d marry you without a ring… that’s not important to me. I don’t need a big rock on my finger for these pictures to be perfect. All I need is this big hunk on my arm.”

Ethan’s face softened, and he began to caress her cheek.

“I am sort of a hunk, aren’t I?” he teased.

“The HOTTEST hunk in all of Boston!”

“Only Boston?”

“New England!” She countered, only to receive a raised brow. “The East Coast!”

“I was aiming for the world, but I’ll take it.”

“Hey,” she laughed, pulling her face closer to hers. “You’re the only hunk in the world for me. And can’t wait to see how beautiful these pictures will be. I assure you, no one will need a ring to see how in love we are.”

“So, I should call Jordan and tell him to disregard the message I left canceling today?”

Kaycee hit Ethan’s shoulder a little harder than she intended. “Ethan Ramsey! You did not!”

“No, I didn’t,” he laughed. “And you say I’m too easy?”

Kaycee clutched the front of his sweater with two fists and straddled her legs over his hips. 

“Oh, you are pushing it today, buster. Don’t make me rethink saying yes to you.”

Ethan’s hands found her hips, holding them firmly in place as he playfully rubbed up against her. She tried to keep her cool as an electric charge shot through her, but Ethan could tell she was already withering.

“Sure about that MacClennan?”

“Ah, you know you’ve got me. I’m pathetic. A simp, really. I’m all yours, and you know it.”

“And you’re the woman who has me parading around Boston like a schoolboy today….”

“School boys don’t have engagement shoots….”

“May I finish?”

“Of course…”

“You’re the one who gets me to do things I never would have imagined, and I’m overjoyed when I do them. Even if I huff like a petulant child before giving in. Do you know that?”

“I do,” she beamed as he reached up and kissed her lips.

“I do,” he whispered. “I love the sound of that.”

~~~~~ 

I HC that after this, they met Jordan and had a wonderful day. Ethan enjoyed it as much, if not more than Kaycee, but he’d only admit that to her. When the photos arrived, Dr. Ramsey was most moved by them, and this one sat on his desk for the rest of his days. Every so often, Kaycee would come in and admire it. 

“A beautiful shot,” he’d smile.  “It is,” she’d reply with a wink. “If only I had my ring.

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@choices-february2023 Day 18 Romance

More tags in RB

[khoicesbyk]

The Royal Romance.

Forevermore.

A/N: this is the next chapter in the journey of my OTP. Follow along for the fun.

Rated: Mature (at times can and will be Explicit. I'll be sure to change the rating when and if that happens). | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual. Y'all should be used to this from me by now 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: King Marquise Rys (LI) and Queen Shanelle Miller-Rys (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and original characters created by me and/or other authors [their characters have been mentioned and/or used in the story with their permission] ) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 8,600 words. (may be slightly more or may be slightly less. Look, I stop counting after editing and re-editing and driving myself insane. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or DM me and I will gladly add you! 😁😘

This series is rated Mature and/or Explicit. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!

Missing a chapter or want to read a chapter again? I got you covered! Click ——> Here!

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations

Sorry this is wayyyyy late! I thought I had uploaded it last month. Oh well! 🤦🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️

Chapter 5.) Joy Of Winter.

It's December in Cordonia. And many in the kingdom were abuzz for the annual Cordonia Winter Festival. It has become somewhat of a national pride and many were ready to celebrate. None more than Marquise. He loves the event and the fact that it has become his wife's newest pastime brings him joy. 

December wasn't just the month of the Winter Festival. It was also the month of his graduation. He was to finally graduate with a Doctorate in Psychology. He was excited and couldn't wait to go to Boston. But first, before he could celebrate he had business to attend to. 

It was a few weeks removed since his mother-in-law had gotten into a physical altercation with Countess Alicia. With many of the nobles beginning to take Lady Alicia's side and wanting Shantel to be removed from her post. But Marquise knew better. And after the security footage of the fight was released, he had both ladies meet him in his office to discuss and remedy the issue. 

"Good morning to you both. Thank you for joining me. Please have a seat." he said to them both. 

"Thank you for having us, Your Majesty," Shantel replied. 

"Yes. Thank you." Alicia agreed. 

"You're both very welcome. Now that you both are here, we can get down to business. Apparently, you two have an issue that needs to be resolved. Now."

Alicia huffed. 

"There wouldn't be an issue, Your Majesty, if someone here had remembered her place." 

Shantel rolled her eyes. 

"If by 'remembered her place' you mean that I should've remembered that I am a Duchess and you're not, then yes you're right I should have, and by doing so I should've had you thrown out of the palace."

"You have no authority there!" Alicia sneered. 

"No, I don't. But my husband, perhaps you know him, his name is Prince Damien Miller, he does. And so does my daughter. The Queen. After all, it is HER palace. Not yours. And certainly not your step-sister's." Shantel shot back. 

"Your husband is a coward and idiot!" Alicia seethed. 

"If by that you mean he chose better and by that I mean he chose me and not a bottom feeder like you. Then yeah you're so right he is."

Alicia's face contorted with disgust. 

"Why you no good god awful Jezebel!" Alicia snapped at Shantel. 

"You're still mad that he didn't want you then and still doesn't want you now!" Shantel spat back at her. 

"Why you–" Alicia started to say before Marquise cut her off, "That is enough! Have some decorum! You're both grandmothers for God's sake."

Shantel raised an eyebrow. 

"You know what? You're right, Your Majesty. We should know better. Especially me. After all, my sweet granddaughter is the Crown Heir. I have an example to set for her. I wouldn't want her to see me act like this." 

Alicia scoffed. 

"This is why you are not and never will be worthy of your so-called title and station as Duchess. You think because you slept with Damien that you belong among us. You are nothing but a commoner. A low-brow American commoner at that."

"Correction: you slept with him. And according to him, you were never really that good. Unlike you, I married him. I love him. Something you have always been incapable of doing."

"Ladies!" Marquise warned. 

"I don't even know why I'm even here. We both know you'll do nothing but side with this sad excuse of a noble." Alicia said to Marquise. 

Marquise took a deep breath and straightened his spine. 

"You're here because whether you like Shantel or not, whether you like the fact she is married to Damien or not, she is still an active member of The Royal Family. And you decided to put your hands on her. Knowing that it's against the law to do so." Marquise said to Alicia. 

"She started it!" Alicia protested. 

Shantel rolled her eyes. 

"Countess, with all due respect, I have seen the security footage and heard the accompanying audio as well. You antagonized her after she, my father-in-law, and Commander Devereaux were situated and settled into their rooms and when she snapped at you for your rudeness during dinner, you threw a drink in her face. Which ended quite badly for you." 

Alicia rolled her eyes and Marquise raised an eyebrow at her. 

"Did you just roll your eyes at me, Countess?" he asked. 

"Of course not. I'm not a heathen. Unlike some people." she replied while gesturing to Shantel. 

"I'm not so sure your actual husband, Earl Amos, would agree." Shantel shot back at her. 

"Ladies! Last. Chance." Marquise warned. 

The two women glared at each other but said nothing. 

"Now this issue between you two needs to be put to rest permanently. You are both nobles of very high society, given you both have close proximity to King Dominic and Shantel has close proximity to myself and my wife."

"So just what are you proposing, Your Majesty?" Alicia asked. 

"After speaking with both of your husbands I let them decide what the best course of action is to take," Marquise replies. 

"And what did they decide?" Shantel asks. 

"Your husbands decided that you two are going to work together."  Marquise replies. 

They were stunned. 

"What?!" Shantel asks. 

"Excuse me?!" Alicia asked. 

"Allow me to explain, because Shantel is the Education Minister, she needs a second in command. That's where you come in Alicia. Because as of this moment, per your husband's request, you are no longer Head Of Staff at the palace in Cloutier."

Alicia blinked. 

"What do you mean by his request?!" Alicia asks. 

"What I mean is Earl Amos requested you be fired from your position as Head Of Staff for embarrassing and potentially jeopardizing his house, social standing, and name. And I will honor his request. Effective immediately. Instead, you will serve as Shantel's second in command. Consider it fair and well...karmic punishment."

Their jaws dropped. 

"So you're saying that I have to work for that?!" Alicia asked, gesturing at Shantel who rolled her eyes. 

"Yes. This was the solution both men came up with and as King, I signed off on it." Marquise replied. 

"Unbelievable. I can not believe that no good coward would turn on me!"

Shantel shook her head. 

"Next time pick on someone who can't fight. You know, like your step-sister?" Shantel quipped. 

Marquise turned his attention to his mother-in-law. 

"As for you madam, you said it best. Your granddaughter is the Crown Heir. And it is up to you to set the greatest example for her. And as her father and your King, I expect you to act like it. Now as far as Alicia working for you is concerned, I expect you to be a fair leader. Is that clear?" Marquise asks. 

"Of course. She's not the first combative person I've dealt with in a workplace and she won't be the last."

Alicia scoffed. 

"This is humiliating! I shouldn't have to work with her!" 

"Not work with her Countess. Work under her. She is officially your boss. But as she has just assured me, she will be fair. And I expect that you will be compliant."

"And if I'm not? What then? You forget I'm protected by my brother-in-law." Alicia asked. 

"First of all, his detail does not extend to you. And hasn't extended to you since he lost power. And secondly, I could just forgo the solution and go with Damien's original idea," Marquise replies. 

"What idea?" Alicia asks. 

"That I strip you of your title and lands. That was Damien's original idea. The only reason he didn't push harder for it is because of your grandchildren. He as well as your husband didn't think it would be fair for them to have to lose what's rightfully theirs because you want to be a 60-going-5-year-old." Marquise replied. 

Shantel snickered quietly.

"It's no wonder why many of the nobles don't respect you, Your Majesty. You let worms like her get away with murder, while you punish their betters for no reason." Alicia sneered at him. 

"Oh, I definitely have a reason. It's called I'm the King and this is my kingdom! Now if you're that unhappy with how I rule and run things, you are free to live anywhere you'd like. Just know that it won't be here in Cordonia."

Alicia huffed. 

"Are we done?" Alicia asked. 

"Get out of my office!" Marquise hissed at her. 

Alicia got up and stormed out. Slamming his office door. 

"Well, that was fun," Shantel said. 

Marquise raised an eyebrow at her, causing her to shake her head. 

"I'll be fine, son."

"I know. But I meant it when I told her that you would be fair. Do not make me look like a liar."

"I would never do that to you. You know this. I know how hard you work to balance everything." 

"Good."

"You know she's going to run and tell the first noble she comes across that you have been unfair to her right?" Shantel asked. 

"I'm betting on it. But I've been in power long enough to know how to deal with these wealthy idiots." he replies. 

"What if she tries to gather enough support to oust you and my daughter?" she asks. 

"Unless she can somehow convince the 5 heads of the Great Houses of Cordonia to support her cause, I doubt it. Also, Countess Madeleine, Duchess Kiara, Duke Bertrand, Duchess Olivia, and Duke Landon pledged their support to the crown when Khari was born and reaffirmed that pledge when my boys were born."

"Madeleine took over for her mother?" Shantel asks. 

"Mmhmm. Duchess Adelaide has kidney cancer on top of having Cirrhosis." Marquise replied. 

"Oh my God!" Shantel said with a gasp. 

"Her health struggles haven't been made public yet, but due to her rapidly declining health, she quietly passed the duties as Head Of House over to her daughter when the boys were six months old." 

"Is it terminal?" Shantel asks. 

"That I don't know. I do know that Adelaide is on the donor list. I also don't know how high up the list she is." Marquise replies. 

"Does my daughter know?" 

"Yes. We went to see the Duchess a few weeks ago."

"How can Madeleine be Head Of House if her mother is still a Duchess?"

"Her health. If a Head Of House ever falls gravely ill, they can pass their duties on to their heir. Maddy won't officially be Duchess of Fydelia until her mother officially passes."

Shantel nodded. 

Just then there was a loud commotion outside of Marquise's office door. 

"What in the world?" Shantel asks. 

That's when Earl Amos Barbaroux came in with Countess Alicia hot on his heels. 

"May I help you?" Marquise asked. 

"Yes, yes you can. You can tell my so-called husband that the deal he made with Damien is off!" 

The Earl rolled his eyes. 

"Please my King, I apologize for intruding into your office. But my wife is being unreasonable."

Alicia whirled around on him. 

"Unreasonable?! You are trying to dehumanize me by forcing me to work for someone who is way beneath my station!" Alicia yelled at her husband. 

"You don't have a station!" he yelled back at her. "I have a station!"

Shantel and Marquise looked at each other as Earl Amos took a deep breath. 

"If it wasn't for me, you'd still be the same noble whore, that your parents passed around, family to family, until they found mine, specifically they found my father, and begged him to match us together!" 

This left the King and his mother-in-law speechless. 

"You—" Alicia started to say before her husband cut her off, "I have had to put up with you and your constant disrespect and condescendence for decades. And now is when I put my foot down!" 

"Enough! Whatever the issue is or issues are between you two, will not and can not be solved by you two having a shouting match in my office. So if you two don't mind." Marquise said to both of them while gesturing to his office door, "Thank you."

Earl Amos nodded. 

"Yes, you're right Your Majesty. I apologize for my behavior towards you and Duchess Shantel." he replied to Marquise before addressing Shantel, " and speaking of you Duchess, I would also like to extend my sincerest apologies for my wife and her unbecoming and unscrupulous behavior towards you all these years. I have never been more ashamed or embarrassed."

Shantel nodded. 

"Thank you for your apology, Sir."

Earl Amos gave her a small smile and nod before turning his attention back to his wife. 

"His Majesty asked us both to leave his office. So let's go," he said calmly to her. 

Alicia crossed her arms as she glared at him. 

"I am not going anywhere with you! You no good traitor!" Alicia sneered at her husband. 

"Well, you're certainly not going to be staying in my office all day so you and Earl Amos can both take your leave."

Alica scoffed at Marquise. 

"Countess, I will NOT repeat myself," Marquise warned her. 

Alicia huffed and began to turn on her heel. But not before saying one last thing to her husband. 

"I should've had Edward kill you when I had the chance!"

The Earl scoffed.

"Well, now you can't. And until our youngest three children have finished their studies and are off to university, I am stuck living with a shrew of a wife better known as you."

Alicia stood there with her mouth open as she watched her husband walk out. Then followed behind him not too long after. 

"Well that was certainly eventful," Shantel said to Marquise. 

Marquise only shook his head. 

"Too eventful."

"What happened to them?" Shantel asks, "From all I ever heard he's been nothing but good to her." 

"He has. But she's never been any good to him."

"But why? What has he done that she hates him so much?"

Marquise looked at his door for a moment.

"Off the record? The three youngest children he mentioned...aren't biologically his."

"What?!" Shantel asked. 

"Their biological father was a man Alicia had been having an affair with for years. He worked on her and Amos's estate staff. And rather than risk the scandal of divorce, he's raised them as his own." Marquise replies. 

"Do you think their children know he's not their biological father?" Shantel asked. 

"I doubt it. I don't think he wants them to know."

Shantel nodded. 

"I can understand why. It would break his heart. Where is their biological father?"

Marquise exhaled slowly. 

"You don't know this but your brother-in-law had him executed when the man threatened to go public about his and Alicia's affair."

"You're joking!"

Marquise shook his head no. 

"Nope. And Edward made sure to have this man erased from all public records. And he even told Amos that he was to raise the children as his own until they became of age."

"Edward, had every trace of him erased?"

"Yes. You forget he had A LOT of unchecked power then. No one would have been stupid enough to question him. It took me a while but I did find the man's name."

"What was it?"

"His name was Yohan. But that's all I have been able to recover about him."

"Surely the man had a family."

Marquise exhaled slowly. 

"If he did, they were silenced by either execution or exile."

Shantel shook her head. 

"So is that all nobles do? Cheat on each other and drink themselves to death?" she asked. 

"No. They also brag about their insane wealth and power while thinking it rivals mine."

"And we both know your power is unmatched."

"Exactly. So now that all that ugliness is over, how about I treat you to lunch?" Marquise asked.

"I would love to have lunch with you son-in-love." 

"Perfect!" 

Later that night Marquise had caught Shanelle up on his very colorful morning. 

"Alicia was cheating on Earl Amos?" 

"Yes. For years. And she was able to get away with it."

"How?"

"She knew he could never challenge her because all she had to do was run to either Edward or Genevieve and she'd be safe. So he knew it was safer to keep quiet."

"Yikes!"

"Yeah." 

Shanelle took a sip of her wine. 

"Now are you sure this Alicia woman working under my mom is a good idea?" 

"Absolutely. I trust your mother, I especially trust in her judgment. I also trust that Alicia will remember that she has more to lose than gain if she defies the decision that was reached."

Shanelle nodded. 

"Now onto more exciting things. Like your graduation next week."

Marquise snickered. 

"I am so excited. I can't wait."

"Same! We've been waiting for it and now it's here. How do you really feel?" she asked. 

"Honestly, I'm relieved. It's been a long journey. But it's been worth it. And now by this time next week, I will have my degree in my hands. And then we and the kingdom will celebrate our favorite kingdom pastime."

"I know I'm so excited. I love seeing the palace and the orchard all decorated. And it'll be the first Winter Festival that the boys will be able to participate in."

"They were at the one last year."

"They were with Nina all day. She kidnapped our boys."

"Not that you minded my Queen."

"True."

"But you're right. They will have a blast."

"And of course, there's my favorite: the annual snowball fight."

Marquise raised an eyebrow at his wife. 

"What do you have planned for this year, my love?"

"Battle of the sexes!" 

"You mean I get to throw a snowball at you?"

"No. It means you will finally be dethroned as the defending snowball fight champion."

Marquise snickered. 

"May the best team win my Goddess."

"I know I will."

Marquise rolled his eyes good-naturedly. 

Over the next few days, the couple spent time together before His Majesty had to get ready for his solo trip to the States. While he was excited to go, his children weren't. They had never been away from their dad for that long. So the Princess came up with a great idea for her and her brothers. They would go with him without him knowing. She pulled out one of her Daddy's biggest suitcases and did her checklist. 

"Okay, boys! We have our snacks, our juice, and our chocolate milk! Now do you have your blankies?" Khari asked her brothers. Both boys held up their blankies. 

"And you have your touchdown bears?"

The boys held up their bears. 

"Alright! Let's hop in!"

All three climbed into the suitcase and shut it. 

"Okay, boys! We gotta be quiet so Daddy doesn't know! So shhh!" she whispered to her giggling brothers. Who tried their hardest to quiet down so they wouldn't get caught. Sadly they were caught when their parents couldn't find them and looked all over the palace for them. But they discovered the suitcase they were hiding in. 

"Babe?" Shanelle asked over her shoulder. 

"Yeah?" Marquise replied. 

"Is this one of your suitcases?" 

Marquise looked at it.

"Yeah, but I never packed this one." 

"Then why is it closed?"

Marquise went to open it when he heard familiar giggling. He shook his head and started to chuckle. 

"What's so funny?"  Shanelle asked. 

"I just figured out why we haven't been able to find the children."

"What do you mean?"

"Take a listen."

Shanelle leaned in and heard the same giggling. 

"No, they didn't."

"Yes, they did."

Shanelle shook her head with a smile. 

"Let's play along."

Shanelle nodded. 

"There's my suitcase! I've been looking all over for it!"

"Good, I'm glad you found it. Now you and my dad can go on your trip."

"Yup now let me just zip it up."

The giggling intensified when he zipped up the suitcase. 

"Say, my love, have you seen the children?" he asks. 

"No, I can't say that I have," she replied.

"Oh well! I'm sure we'll see them before I leave."

Marquise picked up the suitcase and carried it down with the children giggling inside and him and Shanelle snickering the whole time. When they got to the main hall where Shanelle's parents were waiting they heard the giggling. 

"What in the world is going on?" Damien asks. 

Shanelle told them and asked them to play along. 

"Well, Your Highness. I believe we're ready to leave." Marquise said to Damien. 

"Yes, my King. It seems that we are ready. It's just I haven't seen the kids. Shantel and I looked everywhere for them."

"Y'know that's funny! Their mother and I were just saying the same thing." 

"Where could those kids be?" Shantel asked. 

Shanelle just shook her head laughing softly. That's when Margo walked up. 

"Are you ready to leave my King?" she asked Marquise. 

"Yes. We will be leaving shortly. Do me a favor. Take a listen to the suitcase."

Margo took a listen and heard her grandchildren giggling. 

"Why are they in the suitcase?" Margo asked. 

"Because apparently, they think they're going with me. So we're playing along." Marquise whispered. 

Margo nodded. 

"Mama, since you're here have you seen the children?" Marquise asked. 

"No, I haven't. I thought they were with you and their mother." Margo replies. 

"No. No one has seen them. Damien and I can't leave without saying goodbye to them. Oh well! Let me take my suitcase and Damien and I can take our leave." 

"That's an unusually large suitcase, my son. What do you have in it?" Margo asked. 

"You know I don't remember what I packed in it. Let me check." 

Marquise opened the suitcase and there were his children and their giggling. 

"There you are! What are the three of you doing in my suitcase?" Marquise asks. 

"We don't want you to leave so we're going with you Daddy," Khari replied. 

His heart exploded as he helped them out of the suitcase and sat down with them. 

"My love you know you and your brothers can't go with me."

"But!" Khari pouted.

Marquise put a gentle finger to her lips. 

"My love. I love you and I love Zyon and I love Kylo. But you three are too young to go with me."

"But we don't want you to go Daddy."

"I know you don't. I won't be gone long."

He hated seeing the looks on their little faces. 

"I'll see you three Thursday."

"It's not the same Daddy," Khari said, shaking her head sadly. 

"Dada..." Zyon whined. 

Marquise took a deep breath. 

"If it's one thing you three know how to do perfectly, it's tugging at Daddy's heartstrings."

He gathered the three of him in his arms.

"I love you. I love each of you. I don't like to leave you but sometimes Daddy has to. But I promise I  will never ever be gone for very long."

Marquise looked at his children and smiled before clearing his throat and singing softly. 

"Come now my sweet babies please don't cry. Let's wipe those tears from your eyes. Let's see those smiles so they brighten up the day. Always remember no matter what, Daddy is never too far away."

He held his children close before Kylo looked up at him then went and grabbed his blankie. 

"Blankie!" he said as he held it up to his father. 

"You want me to take it with me?" Marquise asked. 

Kylo's only answer was a smile. 

"Thank you, my love. I will take great care of it."

Zyon followed suit by giving his father his touchdown bear. 

"My! I'm being spoiled today. Thank you."

He held his two boys close to his chest. 

"My two sweet loves. I love you both more than I could ever tell you. I will see you both soon. I won't be gone for long."

He kissed them both on their foreheads before sending them to their mother and turning his attention to his daughter. 

"Come here, my love."

Khari stood in front of her father with a sad look on her face. 

"Are you mad at me Daddy?" she asked. 

"Never. You are allowed to feel whatever it is you feel. I could never fault you for that." he replied. 

"So I'm not in trouble?" 

"No. You and your brothers kinda gave yourselves away when you first started giggling. We couldn't help but play along." 

"You knew that we were in the suitcase the whole time?"

"Yes, my sweet one. We did. Your mother and I couldn't help but play along."

"Oh..." Khari said dejectedly. 

Marquise tilted his head before gently tilting her chin up. 

"You have no idea how much I adore you. I adore the way you love your little brothers. I know why you feel the way you do. I used to feel that way whenever my mother had to leave for a short period."

"Really?" she asked. 

"Yes. When I was 8 years old, Mother had to go on a leaders fellowship to Namibia for three months and I missed her terribly. Every day I would ask everyone on her staff when she was coming back." 

"You did?" Khari asks. 

"Ohh yes. Every single day until your grandmother returned." Margo replied. 

Khari giggled. 

"My point is I know what it feels like. I know you don't want me to go but I have to. It will only be for a few days."

Khari looked down at the ground. He pulled her close to him. 

"Do you know what happens next Saturday?" he asked her. 

"Your graduation?" she replies. 

"Yes. Do you know why I'm excited about it?"

"Because you worked really hard for it?" 

"Yes. But that's not why I'm excited about it."

"Then why Daddy?"

"Because you and your brothers will be walking across the stage with me when I get my degree."

Khari perked up.

"We will?" 

"Yes. I asked if it would be okay and the committee I spoke to agreed." 

Khari nodded. 

"Look at me, my love."

Khari looked up at her dad.

"I will only be gone for a few days. I know you're sad but we'll be together again on Thursday."

"You promise Daddy?"

"I swear it on my heart, my life, and my soul. I will never be away from your side for too long." 

Khari chewed her bottom lip and then nodded. 

"Okay."

Marquise wrapped his daughter in a loving hug as he stood up. 

"I love you, I adore you. My sweet beautiful Princess."

Khari gave him a big kiss on the cheek. 

"I love you too Daddy. I'm sorry we tried to trick you."

"No need to apologize, my love. Now go to your mother. Okay?"

Khari nodded. 

"I will call you and your brothers tonight okay?"

"Pinky promise?" she asked, holding up her pinky. 

"Pinky promise," he replied, hooking his pinky to hers.

With a soft kiss on her forehead from her father Khari was at her mother's side. Marquise stood up and looked to his father-in-law.

"Your Highness, NOW we can leave."

"Of course," Damien replied with a small chuckle. 

With final goodbyes to their loved ones. Marquise and Damien were soon on their way to the airstrip. Once in the air Marquise silently became curious about his children's plan to go with him. 

"Something on your mind son?" Damien asked. 

"Just wondering where Khari got the idea to pack herself and the boys in a suitcase," Marquise replies. 

Damien chuckled. 

"From me. It's an old story that I told her when she asked me if her mother had ever gotten into big trouble as a child."

"What do you mean?" Marquise asked. 

"Shanelle was 4 years old when she didn't want me to leave on a trip home. So she packed herself into my suitcase and fell asleep." 

Marquise snorted. 

"And I nearly missed my flight because Shantel and I couldn't find her." Damien replied. 

Marquise nodded with a smile. 

"I guess she thought she'd succeed where her mother failed." Damien quipped. 

"She would have if she and the boys weren't giggling so much."

Damien simply nodded with a smile. 

His Majesty and Prince Damien's US trip began when they touched down in Tennessee. There they were taken across the state line into Kentucky, where they visited His Majesty's Bourbon Distillery. They toured the facility and even got to taste the special holiday blend. As well as touring the four adjacent horse farms. That's where His Majesty got the idea for the name of the distillery. Terre de Chevaux. Which means Land Of Horses.  

That night he called to check in with his children. 

"Hello, my little ones! I miss you so much."

"We miss you too Daddy. How is your trip?" Khari asked while holding the phone so her brothers could see. 

"It's been fun. I toured the distillery and the horse farms around it and do you know what I found out?" Marquise replied. 

Khari shook her head no.

"I met some of the horses. And I learned their names."

"What are their names?" 

"One is named Esther after my grandmother. Another is named Victor after my uncle. And the last one is named Ellie."

"Like Grandmother?"

"Exactly my love."

"Wow! Will we get to meet them, Daddy?"

"I hope so."

"Where do you go next Daddy?"

"I will go to the capitol in Washington D.C. tomorrow, where I will get to speak to Congress, and then your grandfather and I will be in Boston. Where I will see you three Thursday."

"We can't wait! Right boys?" Khari asked her brothers who were trying to take the phone from her. 

"It's time for bed my loves."

"Okay, Daddy. We'll talk to you tomorrow."

"I love you all. So much."

"We love you too! Right boys?"

Later after putting their children to bed, Shanelle had a quiet conversation with her husband. 

"Finally! They're all down for the count."

Marquise snickered. 

"I miss you. You know that right?"

"Yeah, I know. I miss you too, handsome. But like you told the kids we'll see each other Thursday."

"Indeed we will. It's amazing that we've been to Boston twice in one year."

"I know you should go play the numbers while you're in the States." 

Marquise snorted. 

"Yeah sure I will."

Shanelle let out a small yawn that she failed to hide. 

"Go to bed, my Queen. I'll text you in the morning."

"Alright. Goodnight Handsome."

"Goodnight my Goddess."

"I love you."

"I love you too Shanelle."

After blowing her husband a small kiss, Shanelle went to bed. The next morning, His Majesty touched down in Washington D.C. to re-sign the Cordon-America Act of 1985. After signing the act Marquise got the chance to speak to Congress. Something he only ever dreamed about. 

"Good Morning everyone! My what a dream come true this is for me. I actually get to speak to Congress as a whole. If only my Poli Sci professor could see me now."

In his nearly 45-minute speech, Marquise highlighted the importance of the act and the continuation of the shared goal between his kingdom and America. A free, safe, and fair world for all to live in. After his speech, he and Damien toured The Library Of Congress, where he saw the original Declaration of Independence. Once the tour ended, they traveled to the Maryland National Cemetery so Damien could lay flowers at his in-law's graves. 

"I haven't been here in a few years. It's good to see them." Damien said as he laid the flowers on each grave. 

"Thank you for bringing me here. Shanelle talks about them all the time. Especially your former mother-in-law."

Damien snickered. 

"Yes. Mom is where Shanelle gets her personality from. That Jamaican fire runs through my daughter's veins."

"And mine," Marquise added. 

The two shared a chuckle. After a short flight that evening, His Majesty found himself back home in Boston and getting ready for his graduation. The next day, his wife, children, mother, and mother-in-law arrived from Cordonia. And he couldn't wait to hold his babies again. 

"I've missed you three so much," he said as he hugged them. 

"We've missed you too Daddy! How has your trip been?" Khari asks. 

"It's been good but it's better now that you three are here. And just like I promised you, we're together again. And you and your brothers can explore the house." Marquise replied as he led his family into the living room. "But before that, I believe I have a few items to return."

He pulled out Kylo's blanket and Zyon's bear. 

"I believe that these belong to the two of you."

Later that night after a big dinner and getting his children off to sleep. His Majesty went to check on his mother who was just settling into her bed. 

"Are you alright Mama?"

"Yes, my love. I'm fine. I am perfectly happy."

"Happy eh?"

"Yes of course my son. By this time Saturday, you'll have your Doctorate in hand. And will be able to display it in your office back home."

Marquise chuckled. 

"It means the world that you're here with me."

"It means the world to be here. To represent our kingdom and our family."

"It's funny. I look around this room and I can't help but miss Papa. I wish he could be here."

Margo took his hands in hers and looked at him with a warm smile. 

"I know you do, my son. The last time I was here was with him when you earned your bachelor's degree. He would be thrilled to see you earn your Ph.D. As a matter of fact, the whole flight he would've had the children in stitches and excited about your graduation. But it's just Papa that you miss is it?"

Marquise took a deep breath. 

"No. My heart aches for her. I miss her. I wish she could be here as well."

"She is here my love. She's so incredibly proud of the man you have become. She would be filled with such pride at all you have accomplished in your life. And so would Papa. They look down from heaven with smiles as bright as the sun and as wide as a Cheshire Cat."

Marquise shook his head with a smile before kissing her forehead softly. 

"Thank you, Mama. You always know what I need."

She kissed his cheek. 

"I'm your mother. I will always know what you need."

"Get your rest, Mama. I'll see you in the morning."

Margo smiled at him as he left the room and returned to the master bedroom where his wife was. He climbed into bed with her and wrapped himself around her. 

"My big ass baby."

"I've missed you."

"I've missed you too but you are way too heavy. Now get off of me."

Tried as she might, but Shanelle could not get him off of her. 

"Marquise...I...can't...breathe! Get off me!"

He finally let her go.

"Big ass creep!" she said as she caught her breath. 

"Your big ass creep. Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah." 

She snuggled into him. 

"How are you feeling?" she asks. 

"Relieved. It'll all be over soon. All the hours of study and presentation and research will have all paid off."

"Mmmhmm. And soon you will officially be a Doctor and a King."

Marquise snorted. 

"Very funny."

"You love me."

"Indeed I do. I will say I can't wait to see our children walk the stage with me."

Shanelle shook her head with a smile. 

"Their little cap and gowns came the day after you left. So Khari has been teaching the boys how to walk the stage."

"Please tell me you got it on video."

Shanelle handed him her phone. 

"See for yourself, Your Majesty."

Marquise watched as his daughter tried to teach her brothers how to walk a graduation stage in hilarious fashion. 

"Well...she tried."

"Yup. They are cute though."

"Very," he said with a small smile. 

As he lay in bed with his wife, Marquise became contemplative. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" she asks. 

"My thoughts are worth more than all the literal gold in our vault. But since it's you, sure," he replied. 

"What's really on your mind? Is it your mother?" she asks. 

Marquise sighed. 

"Yes. I can't help but wish she was here. I can't help but want her to be here. I want to see her celebrate with you, Margo, and your parents. And I want to see her standing behind our children. Cheering them on." he paused to clear his throat, "You would think that after 26 years my heart would have healed itself by now. But it hasn't. That void in my heart is still there. That need to see her, to be around her, to be able to hold her hand or hug her is still there. I just hope to God that I've made her proud."

"I know it is. And I know in my heart that you have made her proud. Everything that you've accomplished in and with your life has made her proud. This is just another accolade to add to the list of things that she's proud of you for." 

He kissed her forehead softly. 

"Thank you, my love."

"It's what I'm here for."

He smiled at her as he held her close. 

That Saturday was the big day for His Majesty. After getting dressed himself, he hilariously got his children dressed in their caps and gowns. With both boys being so enamored with their caps. Once everyone was ready it was time to head to the university. Once they arrived Marquise took a very deep breath for this was it. Everything he'd worked for had led up to this very moment. And it was a moment that didn't disappoint.

He finally got to do the one thing he had been dying to do. Walk the graduation stage. But what made it even more special was his children walking with him. He was proud as they stole the show. Afterward, he found himself in his mother's arms. 

"I am so proud of you, my love. So proud! You've done it, my boy! You've really done it!" Margo said proudly. 

"Thank you. I'm still in shock but I am so thankful to have you here. By my side, to celebrate with me."

"My love, there is nowhere on this earth that I'd rather be. I got to watch you achieve yet another one of your dreams."

Marquise closed his eyes and laid his forehead against hers. 

"Look at me, son."

He looked at her. 

"I wholeheartedly believe that Eleanor is jumping for joy right now. She is elated that her son is not only a King but he's also now a Doctor. You are her greatest dream come true. Her smile is as bright as the sky and as wide as a canyon. And so is Papa. You know he is in heaven just bragging about his boy doing it yet again. Telling every angel he comes across that his son has become a Doctor."

He pulled her close. 

"Thank you. For every single thing. I would not be where I am, I would not be the man I am, without you. Please don't ever forget that."

"I never have and I never will my son. Now go celebrate my love. Go on."

Later that night after hours of celebrating with his family. He spent time with the one he loves most, his wife. They were nestled together on the couch in the living room. 

"I'm so proud of you. You know that right?" she asks. 

He placed a sweet kiss on the palm of her left hand. 

"I know. You've been one of my biggest cheerleaders throughout all of this. When I wanted to stop or give up you told me to keep going. Or else you'd slug me." he replies. 

Shanelle snorted. 

"Mission accomplished." 

Shanelle took a look around the room. 

"Our story began right here. In this house. On this couch because someone's big ass pulled his hamstring racing a bunch of teenagers."

He punched her. 

"Ow!"

"That's what you get!"

"Jerk!" she hissed. 

"Chicken, shrimp, or goat?" he asked.  

"You're lucky I love you."

"I really am. Because at the time we got engaged, there was a part of me that feared you would've turned me down."

Shanelle took a deep breath. 

"Please don't hate me for this."

"For what?" he asked. 

"There was a part of me that wanted to tell you no. A HUGE part. I wanted to run away from you and not look back." she replied. 

"Why didn't you?" he asks. 

"Because I love you. That's why. I couldn't let you go even when my brain was screaming for me to do so. You showed me what true love is. You made a promise that you have never broken. You promised to love, protect, and nurture my heart and my love. And you have constantly and consistently kept that promise." she replies. 

"And I always will. If you don't believe anything else from me, you can believe that."

Shanelle smiled at him as they continued to enjoy a quiet moment together. Once back in Cordonia, planning for the Winter Festival kicked into high gear. Crews worked overtime making sure every detail was perfect and to Shanelle's exact specifications. All the while Marquise had plans of his own. 

With the palace being as big as it is, there is a lot of unused and mostly dead space on certain floors. So he decided to have three floors converted. One into a personal bowling alley. Another into a massive indoor ball pit and playground for his children. The final floor is the one he's most excited about, that floor will be an indoor laser tag arena. And it has to be tested out to make sure it's safe and ready for the barrage of kids and adults who will want to play. Because it will be open to his family and the staff and their families. 

That Friday before the Winter Festival, Their Majesties hosted their family, both immediate and extended at the palace residence. While the children were having a time running around playing, Marquise pulled Logan aside. 

"Come with me," Marquise said to Logan. 

"Where we going?" he asks. 

"It's a surprise. Trust me you'll like it." Marquise replied. 

"Nope! You know I don't like surprises unless I'm in on them. So where are we going?" Logan asks. 

"I'll show you when we get there," Marquise replied through clenched teeth. 

"Ohhhh...okay Uncle Scar."

"Shut up and move Simba."

Marquise led Logan to an elevator and used a keycard to enter. 

"Well, this is spooky..." 

"Get in the elevator Logan."

Logan shot him a suspicious look before he and Marquise got into the elevator. 

"Okay. I'm in the elevator. Now what?" Logan asks. 

"Now we go down to the basement," Marquise replied. 

"To your dungeon?" Logan asks. 

"No. That's on the other side of the palace. And you'd have no access to that. But this is something else." Marquise replies. 

They rode the elevator down and got off when it dinged. Once out of the elevator, they walked down a hall to a door with a keypad. 

"What's behind the door?" Logan asks. 

Rather than answer, Marquise smirked and then slid his keycard to open the door. When the door opened, Logan's jaw dropped. 

"Welcome to my newest toy."

"What is it?" Logan asked. 

"This is my brand new laser tag arena," Marquise replied. 

"Laser...tag...arena?!" 

"That's what I said."

"Dude! When the hell did you have time to do all of this?" Logan asks. 

"Construction started back in May. And was completed after the boy's birthday. But it's still not quite ready yet." Marquise replies. 

"What do you mean?" Logan asked. 

"It hasn't been tested...yet," Marquise replies. 

That's when Logan's grin widened. 

"And who's going to be brave enough to test it out, sire?"

"Why we are, my good man!" 

"Man! Let's go!"

The two suited up and spent a few hours laughing and having a good time in the arena. When they left both were buzzing. 

"That was amazing. Thank you for sharing it with me. Even though you cheated half the time."

Marquise snorted. 

"You're welcome. And thank you for coming. I'm glad you had a good time."

"I can't wait to tell my wife about it."

"As long as you don't tell the children. I want it to be a surprise for them."

"My lips are sealed, Your Highness."

When they got to the common area, their wives were enjoying a glass of wine.

"And just where have you two been the past few hours?" Shanelle asked them. 

"Out." They both reply. 

The wives looked at each other. 

"Uh-huh. You two went to check out Marquise's laser tag arena, didn't you?" Bronwyn asks. 

The men's jaws dropped. 

"How do you know?!" they asked. 

Bronwyn answered by pointing to Shanelle. 

"How do YOU know?!" they asked. 

Shanelle shrugged. 

"I might've accidentally stumbled upon the construction site one day."

"You mean you were being nosy?" Marquise asks. 

"It is my job to be," Shanelle replied. 

Marquise groaned. 

"Relax. Your kid doesn't know. I haven't told her."

Marquise visibly relaxed. 

"I can't keep nothing from you, can I?" Marquise asked. 

"Nope. Now move it, you two. We have a Winter Festival to get ready for tomorrow." Shanelle replied. 

The next day was the day of the Cordonian Winter Festival. All of Shanelle's hard work and planning had finally come to fruition. Many enjoyed a plethora of winter activities. Including snowmobiles. Which Marquise, Logan, Branden, and Brayden took full advantage of. 

"Alright, Brayden. We got a big job."

"What's that?" he asked. 

"We gotta beat your dad and brother in the race," Marquise replied. 

"Yeah yeah! Go super fast!"

"And do you know what we win when we win?" Marquise asked his nephew. 

"What uncle?" 

"Bragging rights my boy! Bragging rights!"

"Yay!" 

"So ready...set..."

"VRRRROOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMM!"

"And we're off!" 

While the dads and the boys enjoyed the snowmobiles, Shanelle took the girls ice skating out on the frozen pond. 

After riding around on snowmobiles it was time for the main event, the annual snowball fight. That both royals were determined to win. 

"Any last words before I take your title, Your Majesty?" Shanelle asked her husband. 

"Keep dreaming woman!" Marquise replied with a smirk. 

"I am so going to enjoy this!"

"You enjoy losing?...how very odd."

Once the trash talk was done, the whistle was blown and the fight was on. It was a battle of giggling proportions. With trying to take out one another. 

"Will you hold still?!" Shanelle shouted at her husband. 

"Why? So you can hit me?!" he replied. 

"Yes!"

"No!"

The snowball fight was epic and ended in a draw. Which was a delight to all who participated, watched, and cheered. Before the event was over His Majesty decided to try his hand at axe throwing with Sam and a very animatedly drunk Logan. 

"Uh, Logan?" Sam asks. 

"Yeah?" Logan replied. 

"How many of those have you had?" Marquise asked, pointing to the pint in Logan's hand. 

"Including this one?" he replied before downing the rest of the pint, "eight."

Sam and Marquise looked at each other. 

"You've had eight pints of Skullcracker Ale? Are you nuts? That stuff is powerful!" Marquise asked. 

"Yeah, I know. Who knew you Europeans could make a strong ale?" Logan replied before grabbing an ax, "Now let's really have some fun!" 

"Oh Dear God..." Marquise groaned.

"If he hits either one of us..." Sam warned. 

"Noted."

Sam and Marquise stood way back and watched Logan toss the axe and wildly miss his first target. 

"Missed it by an inch. Let me try again."

Logan tried again with Sam and Marquise looking on. 

"How long are you going to let this go on?" Sam asks. 

"Until either he runs out of steam or they run out of axes," Marquise replied. 

"Which one is more likely to happen?" Sam asks. 

"They run out of axes," Marquise replies. 

"So we're gonna be here a while?" Sam asks. 

"Yup so settle in my friend," Marquise replies. 

Later that night after the Winter Festival had concluded, His Majesty told his wife what had happened at the ax throwing booth.

"Logan had how many pints?" Shanelle asks.

"You heard me. He had eight pints of Skullcracker Ale." Marquise replied. 

"How did you let him drink that many pints?" 

"First of all, I didn't let him do anything. He was already halfway through his eighth one when I got there. And second, saying you're great friends with the King will get you anything in this kingdom. Including eight pints of Skullcracker Ale. Especially when the limit is four pints." 

Shanelle groaned. 

"That hangover is about to be epic."

"Oh yeah. He's gonna be feeling it for days. But thank goodness there's a hangover cure."

"I can only handle three pints of Skullcracker Ale. I don't know how Logan managed to drink eight of them."

"Because he has an iron liver?" 

Shanelle snorted. 

"That's for sure."

"And how are you, my love? What was the final tally?" he asks. 

"I'm good. I'm exhausted. Today was so much fun. And the money raised during the silent auction was enough to fund the Children's Fund. All in all, it was a great day. People had fun and that's all I care about. It's why I do this every year."

"I know and you do a brilliant job at this if I do say so myself."

"Careful Your Majesty. Your personal bias is showing."

"So? I'm allowed to brag about and celebrate my beautiful wife's accomplishments all I like. Thank you very much." 

"Fine. Just one question."

"Hmm?"

"What are we doing for Christmas?" she asks. 

"How about somewhere tropical?" he replies. 

"Works for me!" 

"I shall make our Christmas arrangements post haste." 

"Yay!"

Just then there was an urgent knock at their bedroom door. 

"Who in the world is that?" she asks. 

"I'll go find out," he replied. 

When he got up and answered the door, there was an attendant on the other side. 

"Yes?" he asked as he stepped outside. 

"Apologies for the disturbance this late Your Majesty but there is news out of Earl Amos's house." the attendant replies. 

"What is it?" he asked. 

"Earl Amos Barbaroux is dead." the attendant replied. 

"What?!"

"He was stabbed to death in his office." 

"What?! By who?" 

"Lady Alicia, sire. From what I have been told they got into an argument and she stabbed him in the chest with a letter opener. Repeatedly." 

"Where is she now?"

"An arrest warrant was issued for her but she's taken refuge at the old palace but that's all I know at the moment."

Marquise groaned. 

"Great...thank you for informing me. Please keep me informed of any further details."

"At once sire."

When Marquise entered the bedroom, he had an annoyed look on his face. 

"What's that look for?" Shanelle asks. 

"Earl Amos is dead," he replied. 

"Lady Alicia's husband?" 

"Yes. She stabbed him to death."

"What?! Why?" 

"I don't know yet. But I will find out. Just not right now."

"What happens to his estate in the meantime?"

"It goes to their oldest daughter." 

"Do you know where she is now?"

"Hiding out at your palace to avoid arrest but that's as far as I've gotten." 

"She won't be there for long. I'll put the call in to have her removed from the property. I will NOT be sheltering her."

"You're not. Her step-sister is."

"I don't care about her step-sister. Genevieve can kiss my whole ass. Alicia's gone as early as tomorrow morning."

Marquise smirked. 

"So says the Queen." 

"So shall it be."

[katstvrn]

Winters Tradition - Chris Sturniolo x Reader

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Summary - You and Chris are closer than you've ever been. You know everything about each other except your most hidden desires. All of that changes with one night under the stars.

Pairing - Chris Sturniolo x Reader [Childhood Best Friends to Lovers]

Warnings - Swearing ☆ Smoking ☆ Use of y/n once or twice

Word Count - 2,486

A/N - This is more of story type writing, so let me know if you enjoy! Also, the reader partakes in smoking, so if you're not comfortable DNI :))

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It was December 22nd, 2023, in Boston, Massachusetts, and winter was rapidly approaching the small town. The holidays were getting closer, which, unsurprisingly, brought a flurry of letters and gifts into and out of homes across the state. The same store-bought cards were sitting limply in hands, each one being read and discarded once the consumers' eyes turned bored. The trinkets and souvenirs, opened by hopeful faces, left to collect dust on the shelves they were placed upon.

Albeit some gifts were heartfelt and clearly loved by the receiver. Those kind of gifts were a confirmation of love, the purest type. A testament to your bond with a person.

Gifts like these, however, didn't come with a price tag. They were memories you made or traditions you habitually completed. My gift this year was of unparalleled significance, something I'll never forget. And something that started with a tradition.

Chris Sturniolo, or Chris, as I like to call him, is my best friend and has been for the majority of my life. We had a tradition of sorts, which started when Chris (finally) got his license. Every year, three days before Christmas, we drive to the hillside near my house to look at the stars and to look back over the events of the past year and what we hope to achieve in the next. It differs every year - a different part of the hill, a different set of starts to gaze at - but ultimately, it's just us beneath the stars able to talk without prying ears. Just us two. Alone.

Throughout our friendship, I fell in love with him recurrently, all for different reasons. Each time was always more extensive, more complete, and more bewitching. You could say that falling in love with him was easy. It came naturally. This particular night, though, marked the culmination of my love for him...

On this particular night, I was relaxing on my bed, enthralled in a book - my favourite pastime in weather like this - when I heard a tap on my window. Bewildered, I closed my book, leaving it on the blanket, and walked towards my window to investigate the noise. I opened my fogged-up window to get a better view of the source of disturbance. Looking down into the garden, I saw Chris standing there, his car keys in hand.

"Chris?" I questioned, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He only stared back up at me, trying not to laugh, seemingly amused by the look on my face. "Don't tell me you've forgotten." "Forgotten what?" I asked, genuinely stumped. He paused before cocking up an eyebrow. "It's the twenty-second..." My eyes widened in realisation. "Shit, is it? We're supposed to be-" "Up on the hill already? Yep." He said, cutting me off mid-sentence. Before he could stop speaking, I grabbed my shoes from beside my bed, quickly trying to put them on. "Just um, just wait there. I'll be down in a second!" I shouted down, shutting my window a little too forcefully in the rush to get downstairs.

I ran down the stairs, my shoes rhythmically clicking against the wooden staircase. As I was walking out the door, I grabbed a tin of gingerbread men I'd baked earlier to cushion the blow of forgetting our tradition. I gave Chris a soft smile as I approached him, holding out the tin for him to take. He smiled back at me, his eyes slightly scrunching as he did so. He took the tin from my hands, pulling me into a half hug, "You're too cute." He said nonchalantly, with a humoured snicker. "Yeah, yeah, okay, we're in a rush, remember?" I quipped back, pulling away from the hug and making my way to the parked car.

The drive to the hillside was uneventful, to say the least, mostly because he was busy driving, and I didn't make the effort to coverse with him. If I'm honest with myself, it was partially because I was overthinking his previous comment.

I was cute.

Chris often said things without thinking or unaware of the consequences, so it wasn't usual for him to say something like that. Whatever he meant by it didn't matter because it still made my heart race. I noticed him glancing at me every so often, which didn't help either. I couldn't tell if his gaze was unsettling or comforting. I didn't get the chance to think about it anymore when the sound of the handbrake pulled me out of my racing thoughts.

"You okay?" Chris mused, looking almost concerned. "I'm okay, just thinking." I replied, giving a tight-lipped smile to ease his mind. The relief was almost visible. "Oh, okay. About?" He prompted, unbuckling his seatbelt to get out of the car. I did the same, getting out and walking around to the trunk of the car, trying to come up with a believable excuse. "Just about how long we've been doing this. I mean, it's our fourth year already." Chris joined me, sitting in the trunk, looking deep in thought.

"I remember this first time we did this." He said, turning to face me. I cocked my head to the side in curiosity and as an indication to continue. "I remember how excited you were to go star gazing for the first time. You didn't shut up for weeks about it. 'Chris, do you remember how pretty they were?' 'Can we please do it again?!' You asked me that so many times until I finally made it a tradition." He finished, looking at me, his eyes sparkling with joy. I rolled my eyes teasingly, smiling back at him. The same joy in my eyes. "I really wasn't that bad Chris." He shot back with a look that said 'You definitely were'. "Don't worry, I found it incredibly endearing." He cooed, reaching out to flick my forehead. "Such big words coming from you, Christopher." I replied back with a small laugh, egging him on further.

We talked then for almost an hour. Throwing jokes back and forth, reminding each other about memories we'd forgotten or ones we were particularly fond of. The air felt lighter, as it always does when I'm around him, and although I was having the most fun I'd had in a while, I couldn't focus my full attention on what he was saying. In my rush to get out the door, lest I kept Chris waiting, I'd forgotten to grab a coat. The last thing I wanted was to ruin the tradition any further by making Chris drive all the way back, so I stayed quiet and tried not to freeze to death.

Of course, Chris, being the friend that he is, obviously noticed my discomfort. "Are you sure you're okay? You've been shaking for the past five minutes." He asked, his voice laced with worry. "I'm fine, just a little cold." I said, forcing a smile. He reached out to touch my arm, recoiling as soon as his skin met mine. "You're fucking freezing! 'A little cold', my ass. Why didn't you say anything sooner?" He sounded distressed at the thought I'd been cold this whole time. He immediately shrugged off his jacket, handing it to me. I held it out for him to take back, giving him a pointed look. "Don't be stupid, I'm not taking your jacket. It's counterproductive because either way, one of is going to be cold. I'm perfectly fine handling a little cold." He frowned, sighing "Just-" He started before grabbing my arms and putting them inside the sleeves before zipping up the coat.

Warmth enveloped my body instantaneously, and I let out a sigh of relief at comfort warmth could bring. I turned to look at Chris, him giving me a knowing smile. "Better huh?" He asked, a smug grin plastered on his face. I purposfully ignored him, not entertaining his antics. The cold was still relentless, so to maximise the benefits of wearing his coat, I unzipped the pockets and put my hands inside. My hand came into contact with something inside his left pocket. I pulled it out to see what it was. Looking down, I noticed it was a half empty cigarette packet. Before I managed to inspect the packet thoroughly, Chris took them from my hands. "I forgot I had them..." He said quietly, putting them to the side out of my line of sight. "I didn't know you smoked." I commented, nudging him slightly, with a smirk on my face.

"I don't." He said quickly, sounding a little too defensive. "Well, not often anyway. I'm not a big smoker. I just do it sometimes. It helps me relax and clear my head." He added. "Chill, I don't care if you smoke or not." I clarified, with an amused laugh. "You don't?" He challenged. "No, I really don't. They're your lungs." I affirmed.

A few seconds passed before he spoke again. "Actually, do you mind if I light?" He questioned, snatching the packet back into his hand. I shook my head, hinting for him to go ahead. He took the hint and leaned over me to take the lighter out of the right pocket in the jacket. Taking one out of the packet, he placed it in his mouth and lit it. My eyes tracked his every movement, entraced almost: The way he took the drag before blowing it out, how his body visibly relaxed, how weirdly hot he looked smoking. He glanced at me. "Want one?" He mumbled around the cigarette. I hesitated, "Sure." He took my hand, placing a cigarette and the lighter in my palm. I stared at it incredulous before speaking. "I've never actually, you know, won't it like make me cough?". "Right..." He paused. "Okay.... we can do something a little different, a way you won't cough, is that okay?" He cautioned, scanning my expression for any uncertainty. Evidently, he found none.

I felt his hands on my waist, the metal of his rings scratching against the material of his coat. He ended up pulling me towards him, making me straddle his lap. I felt my face heat up as I looked down at him, although he seemed unaffected. "So...what is it?" I croaked out, trying to calm my racing heart. Every fibre of me was hyper aware of the position I was in.

Unaware of the internal struggle he was causing me, he took my chin between his fingers gently, bringing my face closer to his; close enough for me to see the faint dusting of freckles on cheeks and nose. Using his thumb, he slowly parted my lips. "Breathe in while I exhale, yeah?" He whispered, taking a drag from the already lit cigarette and blowing the smoke into my open mouth. I breathed in, my eyes meeting his. As I exhaled, I watched him look down at my lips intently, watching the smoke escape before looking back up. "Hm, good." He praised, suppressing a smirk. "Again?" He tested quietly, his breath ghosting my face. His voices sounded sultry and almost seductive without meaning to. "Please..." I whispered out, eager to feel the burn in my lungs to distract myself from the undeniable tension.

We repeated the process until the cigarette was burnt out. He stubbed it out against the car, throwing it on the ground. His hands found my waist again, his thumb caressing the curves of my hips, sending tingles up my spine. "You did good." He said softly. "Yeah?..." I asked faintly. "Yeah." He confirmed, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

That was the moment I felt everything change. His touch on my waist, although through thick fabric, felt like fire burning through my skin, keeping me warm. I never wanted to let him go. His lingering touch made me feel safe. "Chris?" I managed to whisper out. Our eyes locked, a thousand words being said through them. The time that passed while I was waiting for him to say something back felt like forever. In reality, it was only a few seconds, but long enough for me to feel the palpable tension between us grow even more. My mouth suddenly felt dry. I looked away, hoping to ease the intense unease I was feeling.

"Don't. Don't do that." He insisted. His hand came up to cup my cheek, turning my head to look at him. The look in his eyes is sincre and honest. "Do what?" I questioned. "Run away, avoid this. Avoiding what you feel. You do it every time. It's okay to feel it, y'know." He whispered, his thumb tracing the line of jaw. "I feel it too..." He added. My heart came up into my throat, fluttering. "Can I?" Chris asked, brushing my bottom lip with his finger.

I don't know who leaned in first, but I felt his lips touch mine. There were no second thoughts as I kissed him, just the feeling of his soft lips on mine. My hands left my side, and went to tangle in his hair, pulling him impossibly close. I could taste the lingering tobacco on his tongue. It should've been disgusting, but it just reminded me of what led me to this moment. His lips fit mine flawlessly, as if they were hand crafted to only ever kiss mine. Any consequences of the kiss all felt meagre and inadequate compared to his addictive touch. Our lips and hands found a rhythm, harmonious synced, as if we were telepathically speaking out unaddressed wants and desires to each other.

Our lips disconnected. My breath was heavy, and I was no longer thinking about anything but him. My hands ran through his dishevelled hair, his eyes closing at my touch, a small sigh escaping his lips. I couldn't help but smile. When his eyes opened, he looked at me with such inviting warmth that I couldn't help but kiss him again. He was the sun embodied. I placed a chaste kiss on his lips, testing the waters. I received a sweet smile in return, the crinkling of his eyes that I love, appearing on his face. "Y/n..." He whispered out, his voice hoarse and his lips still flushed a deep red from the kiss. "I love you." I responded immediately. "I love you too." He shook his head, his thumb still caressing the side of my cheek. "No, I love you."

That was the only year of the tradition we didn't discuss what we wanted for the next year. We both knew what we both wanted. It was unspoken. We wanted the same thing, we wanted each other.

Even on that wintery day, frost bitten and cold, I felt our happy memories become a glowing sense of warmth within me, shielding me from the harsh winds around me. The pure love I felt from him that day was comparable to the sweet glow of dancing flames cast on the wall of a dark room - hypnotic and addictive. Something I will never not crave.

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

Notes - I hope you like the new style of writing :)), thank you so much for all the notes on my first fic <3

[thislovintime]

Photo via Pinterest. (While I'm not sure, I'm guessing this might be from Pacific Hills School.)

“Since September he has been teaching English, math, drama, Eastern philosophy and ‘Rock Band Class’ at Pacific Hills, a private secondary school in Santa Monica, Calif. A college dropout, Peter got the job on the strength of his interview with Dr. Penrod Moss, the school’s director. ‘I like to hire people who are independent and creative,’ Moss said. ‘I was impressed by his personality and his ability to speak.’ […] While Tork the musician still has dreams of one day returning to the rock circuit, Thorkelson the teacher is happily planning his next course, ‘Mao, Marx and Mama.’ ‘I’m doing something important,’ he says. ‘I never do anything less than important.’” - People magazine, April 5, 1976 “[Peter] landed a job teaching English, philosophy, drama, math, and a ‘rock band class’ in a private school in nearby Santa Monica in September of 1975. ‘I had no experience, no credentials. Some of the same qualities that got me the Monkees job got me the teaching job,’ Thorkelson said. His abilities to talk and to get along with people are his strongest assets, he added.” - The Bowling Green News, May 24, 1979 "[A]lso, you have to remember that, in this society, teaching is not regarded as a very important pastime by those people in charge of setting budgets and national priorities and that kind of thing. Because if it were, they’d be paid a vastly greater amount of money than they are. Not, you know, double doesn’t begin to get it. Triple, quadruple, that kind of thing maybe. And the fact that teachers are paid as poorly as they are indicates what the priorities are. Nurses make what garbage men make, that kind of thing. It’s not a, you know, it speaks… well… ill, it speaks very poorly and very loudly about our priorities. That’s not my business in the large sense, all I can do is play the games as they are laid out before me. And having some modest influence in the style with which I play them. That seems to be about it.” - Peter Tork, KTRU, August 28, 1983 (x) “I taught English and social studies. And sure, the kids probably saw me as a Monkee, but they got over that in a hurry. Once I lost my temper at the kids, they’d see I was just like all the others — and I probably lost my temper too many times, since I was in an angry state back then. I have a life now, that’s the difference. I have a spiritual core. I’m not Shirley MacLaine but I believe in greater or lesser worlds and consciousness. Most people think of themselves as cut off from each other; others know there’s a connectedness that can be tapped into.” - Peter Tork, The Boston Globe, August 10, 1989 (x) More about Peter teaching in older posts, filed under Tork teaching. There's a New Dimensions High School Alumni public group on Facebook, and in 2019, various alumni recalled their memories of Peter: - "We were lucky to have known him." - Joanie C. H., February 21, 2019 - "Was a wonderful guy and we [were] lucky to have known him." - Alison R., February 21, 2019 - "I was one of the luckiest student[s] the year [Peter] taught music. Peter, let me rock the violin for the graduation ceremony." - Mark L., February 21, 2019 - Another alumni, Ron M., posted a signed note from Peter, reading: "To Ron don't forget what I taught you best of luck Peter Tork ('Mr. Thorkelson' to you)" And, on a 2018 blog post at the Monkees Live Almanac, one former student, Mark, commented: “Best high school teacher I ever had […]. Tremendous empathy.” (x)

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Erec Smith

Published: Apr 19, 2024

I grew up in a predominantly white neighborhood in southern New Jersey. My neighborhood was so white I could have been used as a landmark when giving directions.

Sadly, as one of the few Black kids in the neighborhood and one of the even fewer who spent any time with white peers, I was a daily target of racist bullying. In fact, one could say it was a pastime of sorts. In some neighborhoods, kids got together to play tag or a pickup football game; in my neighborhood, picking on me was the organized game. Who I saw as a friend or an enemy changed all the time. Someone being nice to me on Tuesday would be leading a racist horde on Wednesday, only to be friendly again on Thursday. (It’s amazing I don’t have trust issues.)

Some of the adults weren’t much better. I remember one of my teachers standing with another teacher as I and other students walked into class. Out of nowhere, my teacher told me to “walk like Richard Pryor.” When I told her I did not want to, she raised her voice: “Do it.” Both teachers laughed as I did my best impression, not completely sure which Richard Pryor act I was expected to emulate. (At the very least, they could have narrowed it down to a scene or two.)

My only reprieve came when I did something considered “Black”: like praise a rap song, dance, or do well in a basketball game. All my other attributes were ignored.

So I was excited about graduating from the eighth grade and going to a regional high school with a large Black population. I could finally leave my misfit status behind and enter a diverse environment where I would feel included. It’s not that my white peers had succeeded in making me feel inferior, but not having to deal with their attempts would be a breath of fresh air. The energy I spent upholding mental and emotional armor against their attacks could be spent on more fulfilling things.

However, these hopes were quickly dashed. The Black peers I encountered the most did not accept me either. To them, having grown up in a predominantly white neighborhood had made me white — too white for their tastes. Politeness on my part was considered weakness. My general disposition was not “real” enough in their minds. In this school, too, I was usually left alone if I was behaving in ways coded Black, but there was more to me than that.

The most disheartening aspect was that both my previous white tormentors and my new Black ones were implying the same thing: You’re not fulfilling our ideas of what a Black person is, and for that you must pay.

I do not tell this story to garner pity. (I’m not big on the whole “victim” thing.) I do not tell it to guilt my childhood antagonists. (There’s no benefit in doing that.) I do not tell it to gain some kind of catharsis. (At this point, I’m over it.) I tell it because I am now a mid-career college professor, and these types of bullies have not gone away. They are now academics and administrators at prestigious universities; they are now running HR departments; they are chief editors of prestigious journals. They are prizewinners for their work in diversity, equity, and inclusion.

The problem with most DEI

Once, I committed the sin of saying that knowledge of standard written English may be valuable to all students, regardless of skin color. For this, I endured vitriol. Because standard English came from England and was used by imperialists and slaveholders, I was told, it was inherently racist to teach it to nonwhites. On a now-defunct academic listserv, I was accused of white supremacy, of being unconcerned with how such thoughts, coming from my Black body, were doing harm to other Black people.

These academics would deride me to each other while ignoring my explanations and clarifications. Many who did not participate in these online degradation ceremonies cheered on those who did. For wanting to teach standard English, and for wanting to have a real conversation about its efficacy in American life, I was deemed a pariah.

It was remarkably reminiscent of the bullying I experienced while growing up.

To be clear, I was not being denigrated for simply having a particular outlook; my transgression was having that outlook while Black.

This story illustrates a distinct kind of racism that goes unacknowledged in its particularity. I am describing a kind of racism that more easily masquerades as magnanimity, empathy, and righteousness. I am describing a kind of racism that, often, is unwittingly embraced by its very targets. I am describing “prescriptive racism.”

Unlike traditional racism — the belief that particular races are, in some way, inherently inferior to others — prescriptive racism dictates how a person should behave. That is, an identity type is prescribed to a group of people, and any individual who skirts that prescription is deemed inauthentic or even defective. President Biden displayed prescriptive racism when he said “If you have a problem figuring out whether you’re for me or Trump, you ain’t Black,” a statement that implicitly prescribes how Black voters should think.

“Prescriptive racism” is probably a new term for most readers, but it’s not exactly a novel concept. It has a historical analogue: the concept of the “uppity Negro,” a Black person who dared to act like an equal to whites. One of this term’s most famous usages is attributed to Lyndon B. Johnson, who apparently said: “These Negroes, they’re getting pretty uppity these days and that’s a problem for us since they’ve got something now they never had before, the political pull to back up their uppityness.” Clearly, “uppity” was meant to describe people of color who exercised “agentic” power — that is, they were competent and did not need a white person’s heroism. These “uppity” Black people were forgetting their scripted lines, as it were.

However, prescriptive racism casts a broader net, disadvantaging people for not abiding by a long list of things a Black person shouldn’t do. A prescriptive racist may not mind that a Black person has a master’s degree, but he may scoff at the sight of a Black man watching the Masters — especially if Tiger isn’t playing. A white prescriptive racist would look at a Black person speaking standard English the way a Black person would look at a white person wearing a dashiki. Lest you think that last statement is mere speculation, I have met several people who have voiced derision and irritation upon hearing standard English come out of my mouth. My use of language was an affront to their expectations and sensibilities.

Many prescriptive racists are often people of the same minority group. A Black person lambasting another Black person for acting in ways deemed racially inauthentic — for example, speaking in dialects coded “white” — is engaging in prescriptive racism.

And prescriptive racism is not just a social phenomenon; it is now being institutionalized. More and more, it is erroneously labeled diversity, equity, and inclusion, and it is winning out over initiatives more in line with the civil rights movement and classical liberal values like individuality, free speech, reason, and even equality. It is becoming policy in academia, corporate America, and even the military. To put it another way, contemporary DEI is prescriptive racism.

In academia, I’ve found, Blackness is a role, a “pre-script,” to which Black people are expected to conform if they want to be accepted or, sometimes, acknowledged at all. A Black scholar cannot simply study and write about Plato; she has to write about Plato from a Black perspective. Nobody shows much interest in a Black graduate student drafting a dissertation on American Transcendentalism that isn’t focused on its relevance to the Black experience. In this sense, applying for graduate school or a professorship is akin to auditioning for “Black person” in some live-action role-playing event.

The term “politically Black” adds yet another layer to prescriptive racism. Often, Black scholars doing “Black scholarship” must do it in a politically Black way: a way that conforms to a particular political and decidedly countercultural position. This is what the journalist Nikole Hannah-Jones meant when she said, in a now-deleted tweet, “There is a difference between being politically Black and being racially Black. . . . We all know this and should stop pretending that we don’t.” For many involved in social justice — be they academics, politicians, or activists — progressive ideology is the only authentic form of political Blackness.

Political Blackness made much more sense several decades ago. Both Malcolm X and the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. could have been construed as politically Black. Why? Because, when these men lived, whether Black Americans were gay or straight, Islamic or Christian, working class or middle class, none of them could sit at the front of the bus in the Jim Crow South. However, in this third decade of the 21st century, the efficacy of political Blackness has waned significantly. Though things are not perfect and racist environments still exist, policy changes have afforded Black Americans opportunities and resources traditionally denied them. As a result, “the Black experience” has become so varied that the use of “the” is questionable.

The idea of an indefinite abject oppression that justifies essentialism and political Blackness does not reflect reality. The facts that roughly 80 percent of Black Americans are working class or higher and that the number of Black immigrants has skyrocketed (strongly suggesting that the United States isn’t a fundamentally anti-Black country) are just two of many things that illustrate this. But activists who still want power must fabricate an insidious specter of oppression, and an essential victimhood has to be prescribed, whether they are homeless or Oprah Winfrey. If you are a Black American who does not abide by this prescription, be you liberal or conservative, you are seen as weakening the political power of Black Americans.

The inherent paradox of contemporary social justice is the essentialism that says “you are bad if you stereotype other people, but you are also bad if you don’t.”

The concept of microaggressions illustrates this. In a definition made popular by clinical psychologists mainly from Columbia University, microaggressions are subtle insults, intentional or unintentional, “that send denigrating messages to people of color because they belong to a racial minority group.” Yet it is prescriptive racism to suggest that Black people, regardless of context, interpret every term or experience the same way.

For example, according an article in Harvard Business Review, “I believe the most qualified person should get the job” counts as a microaggression because, apparently, it means to racial and ethnic minorities “that someone is being given an unfair advantage because of their race.” But that idea itself is a stereotype that essentializes minorities as people who, as a whole, would be offended by that particular statement. The idea that a Black person could agree with that statement is unthinkable. If one were to point out this contradiction to a person who believes such a statement is an insult to minorities, one shouldn’t be surprised if the person — whether white or nonwhite — commits an act of prescriptive racism: “Well, they should be offended.”

When people refer to “the Black experience,” they are, in effect, telling you who I am, what I’ve been through, and how I interpret the world. But they have no right to do that.

What to do about prescriptive racism

None of this is to say racism does not exist. I know we do not live in a utopia of racial harmony. However, too many initiatives to improve race relations have done more harm than good, and they are winning out.

Instead, I think we can achieve true diversity without erasing individuality.

To accomplish this, I and a few others have cofounded Free Black Thought, a nonprofit newsletter and podcast representing “the rich diversity of Black thought beyond the narrow spectrum of views promoted by mainstream outlets as defining ‘the Black perspective.’” We come from a classical liberal standpoint, meaning we believe people should be treated as sovereign individuals and not deindividuated members of a group. In other words, we’re sticking it to the prescriptive racists.

The “free” in Free Black Thought is both an adjective and a verb. We want to promote thought free from the tyranny of prescription, which means we publish and promote a wide array of ideological points and artistic expression, highlighting Black artists and thinkers typically neglected in mainstream media. But we also seek “to free” Black thought by offering alternatives to K-12 curricula informed by critical social justice, like BLM in Schools and Woke Kindergarten, to let schools know that other ways to promote true DEI do exist.

Sadly, prescriptive racism is being lobbed at students throughout primary and secondary education, from mathto ethnic studies. This is why Free Black Thought has partnered with the Institute for Liberal Values to create curricula and resources that promote “empowered education” over dogmatic “prescriptive” DEI agendas and are accessible to teachers and parents. We promote such classical liberal values as equality, free speech, and, of course, individual liberty, which are the keys to social justice when universally applied.

At the end of the day, the founders of Free Black Thought are exercising our freedom of association to combat an almost tyrannical conformity imposed from an annoyingly indignant moral high ground.

For me, DEI done right is DEI based on traditional liberal values. These values make for social justice if we can live up to them fairly and universally.

To come full circle, experiencing racism in my childhood may have been arduous, and perhaps I was victimized. But that didn’t make me a victim. It opened my eyes to the nonsense of race and identity, and it forced me to embrace my individuality. For that, I am grateful. Prescriptive racism and other forms of prescriptive essentialism rob people, especially young people, of their ability to make their own paths and cultivate their own individuality. After all, we want our youth to think, not to have a group ideology think for them. They all, regardless of race, should be emboldened to let their thoughts be free.

Erec Smith is a research fellow at the Cato Institute, an associate professor of rhetoric and composition at York College of Pennsylvania, and cofounder of Free Black Thought.

[ Via: https://archive.today/q0jmb ]

[myrddin-wylt]

100% agree w the Irish thing. That being said I think a big part of the Irish loathing is them not understanding American immigration culture. Them calling themselves Irish isn’t saying they’re actually Irish, they have a very thick Boston accent, and are aware of where they were born and raised. They’re talking abt ethnicity, and they think that’s obvious to the point where they don’t need to point it out.

Oh yeah, that's basically it. a lot of Americans say that they're Irish as shorthand for 'I'm descended from members of the Irish diaspora,' and I think that just gets misinterpreted. I think what also happens is Ireland is generally pretty homogeneous so the Irish look at identity in a completely different way, so you get into the whole 'cultural appropriation or immigrant culture' argument. and then the term 'plastic paddy' makes what starts as a cultural/linguistic misunderstanding into a political and personal issue as well, but the political part is lost on the Americans so you have a situation where an American says their family is of Irish heritage or any such variant and the response they get is a personal insult that is, to them, coming out of nowhere, whereas to the Irish person involved, the whole conversation was inherently personal and political from the start.

but just to make it even more complicated, there's the religious aspect too. the Feast Day of Saint Patrick is observed by the Roman Catholic church, the Anglican Communion, the Eastern Orthodox, and the Lutheran church. the US is typically more strongly religious than Western Europe. like yeah a lot of Americans celebrate St. Patrick's in a purely secular sense but I think the amount of people who celebrate the liturgical holiday is very very very underestimated. eg this year DFW had a local public announcement - public announcement as in a NBCDFW news headline* - that all Roman Catholics were allowed to eat meat last Friday despite it being Lent, because the bishops of both dioceses made an exception for St. Patrick's. that was local news because there are a ton of Roman Catholics here so it was genuinely relevant. ironically enough, this means the majority of people in DFW who observed St. Patrick's as a religious holiday were actually Latino lol.

in any case, tldr is that no one is even having the same conversation but there sure are strong feelings about it.

*Sorry, tumblr mobile sucks ass so I can't just use a hyperlink but I refuse to name a specific article and not link it.

[milkcryptid]

🎶 Ten Songs I've Had on Repeat Lately 🎶

Tagged by @dear-massacre ♡

Vicious Pastimes – House of Harm

Particles – Nothing But Thieves

Dear Arkansas Daughter – Lady Lamb

Francesca – Hozier

Reise Reise – Rammstein

Spit – Poppy

The Nobodies – Marilyn Manson

Lie Use Die – M()RE

Ditto – NewJeans

The Day That I Ruined Your Life – Boston Manor

No pressure at all! @fujiyolkart @goodnight-socialiite @nerdy-stilinski @lighthousebeams Also open tag to anyone who sees this ♡

[exhaustedpirate]

we ain't kids no more

inspired by adele's "send your love (to your new lover)" includes a not nice depiction of neal/swanfire but nothing too much (it's a small thing too) banner art by me rated G | 1180 words Also on AO3

Her hand was just cooling down when she heard his voice.

“Ems? Is that you?”

Emma was startled by the flashbacks this surprise appearance brought - reminiscing about the man who failed to appreciate you was not one of her favorite pastimes and she was thankful it didn’t happen often. Not when she was so happy.

“Neal!” Her tone was controlled, her smile polite. The same tone and expression she used on her CIs - friendly but not too friendly. “I didn’t know you were coming to this. You don’t look like a Miner’s Day type of person.”

“Oh, well, I’m in town for the weekend so it’s kind of mandatory to come to these things.” He gestured around them without taking his eyes off her. She was definitely not amused by the overt way he looked her up and down. “You look good.” 

“I know.” Her smile starts losing more of its friendliness as she crosses her arms, bringing his attention back to her. “What are you up to these days, Neal?”

“I’m still working at the construction office, I’m a supervisor now though. Got promoted last summer.” 

He had such a proud smile. It shouldn’t make her so disappointed, promotions were generally a good thing. However, in the 5 years they were together, he had been working for that office and only now, almost 4 years later, was he getting his promotion.

Same old Neal.

The same Neal who proposed on a whim and was satisfied to watch life pass in front of him. Emma wasn’t happy to be stuck when all her life, she had had no control over her life. She wanted more and Neal wasn’t going to help with that. Emma nodded, letting out a quiet chuckle that was thankfully drowned out by the music. The approaching woman quickly made her presence known, wanting to commandeer their attention. 

“And I’m so proud of him. He was waiting for that promotion.” Neal tossed a half-surprised glance towards the woman before wrapping his arm around her, clearly happy to have her there.

“Emma, this is Tamara, my fiancée.” He introduced but there was really no need, Tamara’s arm was mirroring Neal’s around his waist and she was practically shoving her left hand on Emma’s face.

Emma was thoroughly amused now.

“Pleasure to meet you, I’m Emma Swan.” Emma extended her hand but was completely ignored when Tamara turned to look at Neal.

“This is the Emma you told me about?” Emma’s eyebrow rose at Tamara’s high-chinned look once Neal confirmed it. “Hmm. We got engaged two months ago.”

Emma flustered at the unprompted information and it caused her to take a second look at the still-presented ring and- oh. Emma’s smile was earnest now.

“I can see. Nice ring.” The teasing tone in her voice went unacknowledged by Tamara who was admiring the ring that had once been in Emma’s finger for more than a year. 

But not Neal, who blanched before stammering out. “You were going to tell me what you were up to, Ems.”

“Right,” Emma couldn’t help smiling at just how amused she was at this whole situation. “I’m a detective in Boston, took my Sergeant’s exam last Friday and I’m feeling confident.”

“Oh,” Neal was surprised and she expected it. “I never thought-”

“I know.” Emma interrupted with a smirk. She expected it too. Because she knew Neal Cassidy had never believed that she’d be able to do it. Her eyes were defiant when they met Neal’s and he seemed to retreat to himself a bit.

“And are you alone here?” Tamara didn’t seem too impressed with the looks they were sharing and decided to interrupt it with a very pointed question.

“No, my parents stopped to talk to Granny,” Emma decided to ignore the pitying look on her face to add, “and my boyfriend went to get us some hot chocolate.” She looked back in the direction he had left, only to be pleasantly surprised to see him two steps away.

“With cinnamon, just as m’lady likes.” His eyes stayed on her and she couldn’t help sharing in his wide smile when he handed her the hot cup with an over-the-top move. Neal let out a pointed cough catching Killian’s attention. 

Emma ignored his weird jealousy and the look of surprise on Tamara’s face while Killian directed his attention to them. “My apologies, I didn’t see you there. I’m Killian Jones.”

His hand went ignored by Neal, who simply nodded while muttering a “Neal Cassidy” with a side-glance, but vigorously shaken by Tamara who seemed transfixed with him before Neal squeezed her hip to bring her attention back to him.

“Where did you two meet?” Neal asked glancing at Emma who simply smiled and took a sip of her drink.

“We work together, I met her when she started as a detective. It took some time but she finally agreed to go out with me.” Killian’s arm found its home around Emma’s shoulders. “A year later, here we are.” Their eyes locked and Emma had to take a deep breath at the love in his eyes. It was still surprising.

“Oh, so you’re a sergeant? Emma mentioned taking the sergeant’s exam.” Tamara asked and Emma noticed how she nestled herself in Neal’s chest making sure her left hand laid on his chest.

Killian had to force his attention back on his new acquaintances - she knew the feeling. “No, I’m still a detective.”

“And it doesn’t bother you that she’s going to be in a higher position than you?”

Nothing Neal Cassidy did or said surprised Emma anymore.

She had never felt so grateful to have accepted Killian’s love. They had had that discussion before. Emma’s fears had come barging in an hour before the exam until Killian steadfastly put all those fears to rest. Yet, his devotion still made her heart race.

“Not at all, I always knew she was going to be my boss one day.” And if the words didn’t make her swoon, the lingering kiss he deposited on her temple certainly did.

“Right, well,” Neal interrupted. “We have to find my dad, he’ll be looking for us.” 

Emma turned back to the engaged couple with an unwavering smile. “Maybe we’ll see each other again. I wish you two all the happiness.” 

That didn’t seem to be the answer Neal was hoping for but she realized she didn’t really care. She had been sincere. There was a time when all she wanted was Neal’s approval and love. She was different now, for the better.

Emma watched as the man who broke her heart and the woman who Emma wished would be treated better make their way through the crowd. Finally giving into her desires and leaning against the chest of the man who tore down her walls and appreciated her. The man she loved.

“Who was that?” His tone was conversational as his arm instinctively brought her closer, his lips on the top of her head and his thumb stroking her hip casually.

“Nobody important.” 

And that had never felt so true.

[gatheringbones]

[“Steeped in feminist principles of participatory democracy, the organization adopted a number of protocols designed to encourage equitable participation in dialogue and decision making.

Each meeting began with a “check-in,” followed by the group working together to develop the agenda. Facilitators and notetakers rotated weekly, decisions were largely made by consensus, and publicity materials were written collaboratively. While these practices were certainly time-intensive and likely limited the participation of women for whom a several-hour weekly meeting was not feasible, they were designed to counter possible dynamics of entitlement and marginalization between those who had been labeled “crazy,” “violent,” “sick,” or “dangerous” by dominant cultural authorities and those who were experienced in navigating public bureaucracies as nonprofit, social service, or health care workers.

The diversity of social locations and lived experiences represented in the group was identified as “a strength, not a liability.” Foregrounded in CSIV’s “Principles of Unity” was a declaration that members should proactively confront and negotiate differences of “race, class, sex, sexual preference, religion, age, ethnic background, and other life experiences such as incarceration.” I interpret these statements as more prescriptive than descriptive, signaling the kinds of conflicts and negotiations that likely emerged in the process of coalescing a diverse activist network within “social geographies already structured around gender, race, class, and sexual exclusions.”

In a period when many feminists in Boston and beyond contentiously debated the theories and practices of gender separatism and the boundaries of women-only spaces, CSIV treated “women” as a category of identification rather than of medical and legal ascription. Trans women activists in Boston issued public challenges to exclusionary feminists at least as early as 1974. Writing for Gay Community News, Margo Schulter admonished local gay and lesbian and feminist movements for their complicity in trans oppression: “It appears that this pastime of supporting liberation for some but not for others is still going strong right here in our own progressive community of Boston…. No one is suggesting that anyone has a responsibility to devote all of her/his time to fighting transsexual oppression. However, I do mean to say that as a transsexual, a woman, and a lesbian, I feel that everyone has a responsibility to cooperate with the transsexual cause to the extent of not denying space for meetings and not disavowing transsexual rights.”]

emily l. thuma, from all our trials: prisons, policing, and the feminist fight to end violence, 2019

[girlactionfigure]

Did you know that the MLB World Series was invented by a Jewish immigrant? In January 1903, the American and National Baseball Leagues signed a new National Agreement in which the two agreed to coexist in peace. But at this point, there was still no postseason battle to determine which of the two leagues’ pennant winners was the ultimate champion for a given year. That’s when Barney Dreyfuss, a Jewish immigrant from Germany and the owner of the Pittsburgh Pirates, proposed the first World Series. That October, over 100,000 people came out to watch the Pittsburgh Pirates and the Boston Americans (later Boston Red Sox) play a best-of-nine series, and America’s pastime was born.

Photos: (1) Colorized image from the first world series (2) View of Huntington Avenue Grounds in Boston, 1903

Contributor: Jill Goltzer

Humans of Judaism

[khoicesbyk]

The Royal Romance.

Forevermore.

A/N: this is the next chapter in the journey of my OTP. Follow along for the fun.

Rated: Mature (at times can and will be Explicit. I'll be sure to change the rating when and if that happens). | May contain sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual. Y'all should be used to this from me by now 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: King Marquise Rys (LI) and Queen Shanelle Miller-Rys (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and original characters created by me and/or other authors [their characters have been mentioned and/or used in the story with their permission] ) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 8,640 words. (may be slightly more or may be slightly less. Look, I stop counting after editing and re-editing and driving myself insane. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or dm me and I will gladly add you! 😁😘

This series is rated Mature and/or Explicit. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!

Missing a chapter or want to read a chapter again? I got you covered! Click ——> Here!

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations

Chapter 5.) Joy Of Winter.

It's December in Cordonia. And many in the kingdom were abuzz for the annual Cordonia Winter Festival. It has become somewhat of a national pride and many were ready to celebrate. None more than Marquise. He loves the event and the fact that it has become his wife’s newest pastime brings him joy. 

December wasn't just the month of the Winter Festival. It was also the month of his graduation. He was to finally graduate with a Doctorate in Psychology. He was excited and couldn't wait to go to Boston. But first, before he could celebrate he had business to attend to. 

It was a few weeks removed since his mother-in-law had gotten into a physical altercation with Countess Alicia. With many of the nobles beginning to take Lady Alicia’s side and wanting Shantel to be removed from her post. But Marquise knew better. And after the security footage of the fight was released, he had both ladies meet him in his office to discuss and remedy the issue. 

“Good morning to you both. Thank you for joining me. Please have a seat.” he said to them both. 

“Thank you for having us, Your Majesty,” Shantel replied. 

“Yes. Thank you.” Alicia agreed. 

“You’re both very welcome. Now that you both are here, we can get down to business. Apparently, you two have an issue that needs to be resolved. Now.”

Alicia huffed. 

“There wouldn't be an issue, Your Majesty, if someone here had remembered her place.” 

Shantel rolled my eyes. 

“If by ‘remembered her place’ you mean that I should've remembered that I am a Duchess and you’re not, then yes you’re right I should have, and by doing so I should’ve had you thrown out of the palace.”

“You have no authority there!” Alicia sneered. 

“No, I don't. But my husband, perhaps you know him, his name is Prince Damien Miller, he does. And so does my daughter. The Queen. After all, it is HER palace. Not yours. And certainly not your step-sister’s.” Shantel shot back. 

“Your husband is a coward and idiot!” Alicia seethed. 

“If by that you mean he chose better and by that I mean he chose me and not a bottom feeder like you. Then yeah you're so right he is.”

Alicia’s face contorted with disgust. 

“Why you no good god awful Jezebel!” Alicia snapped at Shantel. 

“You're still mad that he didn't want you then and still doesn't want you now!” Shantel spat back at her. 

“Why you–” Alicia started to say before Marquise cut her off, “That is enough! Have some decorum! You’re both grandmothers for God's sake.”

Shantel raised an eyebrow. 

“You know what? You're right, Your Majesty. We should know better. Especially me. After all, my sweet granddaughter is the Crown Heir. I have an example to set for her. I wouldn't want her to see me act like this.” 

Alicia scoffed. 

“This is why you are not and never will be worthy of your so-called title and station as Duchess. You think because you slept with Damien that you belong among us. You are nothing but a commoner. A low-brow American commoner at that.”

“Correction: you slept with him. And according to him, you were never really that good. Unlike you, I married him. I love him. Something you have always been incapable of doing.”

“Ladies!” Marquise warned. 

“I don’t even know why I’m even here. We both know you'll do nothing but side with this sad excuse of a noble.” Alicia said to Marquise. 

Marquise took a deep breath and straightened his spine. 

“You're here because whether you like Shantel or not, whether you like the fact she is married to Damien or not, she is still an active member of The Royal Family. And you decided to put your hands on her. Knowing that it's against the law to do so.” Marquise said to Alicia. 

“She started it!” Alicia protested. 

Shantel rolled her eyes. 

“Countess, with all due respect, I have seen the security footage and heard the accompanying audio as well. You antagonized her after she, my father-in-law, and Commander Devereaux were situated and settled into their rooms and when she snapped at you for your rudeness during dinner, you threw a drink in her face. Which ended quite badly for you.” 

Alicia rolled her eyes and Marquise raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me, Countess?” he asked. 

“Of course not. I'm not a heathen. Unlike some people.” she replied while gesturing to Shantel. 

“I'm not so sure your actual husband, Earl Amos, would agree.” Shantel shot back at her. 

“Ladies! Last. Chance.” Marquise warned. 

The two women glared at each other but said nothing. 

“Now this issue between you two needs to be put to rest permanently. You are both nobles of very high society, given you both have close proximity to King Dominic and Shantel has close proximity to myself and my wife.”

“So just what are you proposing, Your Majesty?” Alicia asked. 

“After speaking with both of your husbands I let them decide what the best course of action is to take,” Marquise replies. 

“And what did they decide?” Shantel asks. 

“Your husbands decided that you two are going to work together.”  Marquise replies. 

They were stunned. 

“What?!” Shantel asks. 

“Excuse me?!” Alicia asked. 

“Allow me to explain, because Shantel is the Education Minister, she needs a second in command. That's where you come in Alicia. Because as of this moment, per your husband's request, you are no longer Head Of Staff at the palace in Cloutier.”

Alicia blinked. 

“What do you mean by his request?!” Alicia asks. 

“What I mean is Earl Amos requested you be fired from your position as Head Of Staff for embarrassing and potentially jeopardizing his house, social standing, and name. And I will honor his request. Effective immediately. Instead, you will serve as Shantel’s second in command. Consider it fair and well…karmic punishment.”

Their jaws dropped. 

“So you’re saying that I have to work for that?!” Alicia asked, gesturing at Shantel who rolled her eyes. 

“Yes. This was the solution both men came up with and as King, I signed off on it.” Marquise replied. 

“Unbelievable. I can not believe that no good coward would turn on me!”

Shantel shook her head. 

“Next time pick on someone who can't fight. You know, like your step-sister?” Shantel quipped. 

Marquise turned his attention to his mother-in-law. 

“As for you madam, you said it best. Your granddaughter is the Crown Heir. And it is up to you to set the greatest example for her. And as her father and your King, I expect you to act like it. Now as far as Alicia working for you is concerned, I expect you to be a fair leader. Is that clear?” Marquise asks. 

“Of course. She's not the first combative person I've dealt with in a workplace and she won't be the last.”

Alicia scoffed. 

“This is humiliating! I shouldn't have to work with her!” 

“Not work with her Countess. Work under her. She is officially your boss. But as she has just assured me, she will be fair. And I expect that you will be compliant.”

“And if I’m not? What then? You forget I’m protected by my brother-in-law.” Alicia asked. 

“First of all, his detail does not extend to you. And hasn't extended to you since he lost power. And secondly, I could just forgo the solution and go with Damien’s original idea,” Marquise replies. 

“What idea?” Alicia asks. 

“That I strip you of your title and lands. That was Damien’s original idea. The only reason he didn't push harder for it is because of your grandchildren. He as well as your husband didn't think it would be fair for them to have to lose what's rightfully theirs because you want to be a 60-going-5-year-old.” Marquise replied. 

Shantel snickered quietly.

“It's no wonder why many of the nobles don't respect you, Your Majesty. You let worms like her get away with murder, while you punish their betters for no reason.” Alicia sneered at him. 

“Oh, I definitely have a reason. It's called I'm the King and this is my kingdom! Now if you’re that unhappy with how I rule and run things, you are free to live anywhere you'd like. Just know that it won't be here in Cordonia.”

Alicia huffed. 

“Are we done?” Alicia asked. 

“Get out of my office!” Marquise hissed at her. 

Alicia got up and stormed out. Slamming his office door. 

“Well, that was fun,” Shantel said. 

Marquise raised an eyebrow at her, causing her to shake her head. 

“I'll be fine, son.”

“I know. But I meant it when I told her that you would be fair. Do not make me look like a liar.”

“I would never do that to you. You know this. I know how hard you work to balance everything.” 

“Good.”

“You know she's going to run and tell the first noble she comes across that you have been unfair to her right?” Shantel asked. 

“I'm betting on it. But I've been in power long enough to know how to deal with these wealthy idiots.” he replies. 

“What if she tries to gather enough support to oust you and my daughter?” she asks. 

“Unless she can somehow convince the 5 heads of the Great Houses of Cordonia to support her cause, I doubt it. Also, Countess Madeleine, Duchess Kiara, Duke Bertrand, Duchess Olivia, and Duke Landon pledged their support to the crown when Khari was born and reaffirmed that pledge when my boys were born.”

“Madeleine took over for her mother?” Shantel asks. 

“Mmhmm. Duchess Adelaide has kidney cancer on top of having Cirrhosis.” Marquise replied. 

“Oh my God!” Shantel said with a gasp. 

“Her health struggles haven't been made public yet, but due to her rapidly declining health, she quietly passed the duties as Head Of House over to her daughter when the boys were six months old.” 

“Is it terminal?” Shantel asks. 

“That I don't know. I do know that Adelaide is on the donor list. I also don't know how high up the list she is.” Marquise replies. 

“Does my daughter know?” 

“Yes. We went to see the Duchess a few weeks ago.”

“How can Madeleine be Head Of House if her mother is still a Duchess?”

“Her health. If a Head Of House ever falls gravely ill, they can pass their duties on to their heir. Maddy won't officially be Duchess of Fydelia until her mother officially passes.”

Shantel nodded. 

Just then there was a loud commotion outside of Marquise’s office door. 

“What in the world?” Shantel asks. 

That's when Earl Amos Barbaroux came in with Countess Alicia hot on his heels. 

“May I help you?” Marquise asked. 

“Yes, yes you can. You can tell my so-called husband that the deal he made with Damien is off!” 

The Earl rolled his eyes. 

“Please my King, I apologize for intruding into your office. But my wife is being unreasonable.”

Alicia whirled around on him. 

“Unreasonable?! You are trying to dehumanize me by forcing me to work for someone who is way beneath my station!” Alicia yelled at her husband. 

“You don't have a station!” he yelled back at her. “I have a station!”

Shantel and Marquise looked at each other as Earl Amos took a deep breath. 

“If it wasn't for me, you'd still be the same noble whore, that your parents passed around, family to family, until they found mine, specifically they found my father, and begged him to match us together!” 

This left the King and his mother-in-law speechless. 

“You—” Alicia started to say before her husband cut her off, “I have had to put up with you and your constant disrespect and condescendence for decades. And now is when I put my foot down!” 

“Enough! Whatever the issue is or issues are between you two, will not and can not be solved by you two having a shouting match in my office. So if you two don't mind.” Marquise said to both of them while gesturing to his office door, “Thank you.”

Earl Amos nodded. 

“Yes, you’re right Your Majesty. I apologize for my behavior towards you and Duchess Shantel.” he replied to Marquise before addressing Shantel, “ and speaking of you Duchess, I would also like to extend my sincerest apologies for my wife and her unbecoming and unscrupulous behavior towards you all these years. I have never been more ashamed or embarrassed.”

Shantel nodded. 

“Thank you for your apology, Sir.”

Earl Amos gave her a small smile and nod before turning his attention back to his wife. 

“His Majesty asked us both to leave his office. So let's go,” he said calmly to her. 

Alicia crossed her arms as she glared at him. 

“I am not going anywhere with you! You no good traitor!” Alicia sneered at her husband. 

“Well, you’re certainly not going to be staying in my office all day so you and Earl Amos can both take your leave.”

Alica scoffed at Marquise. 

“Countess, I will NOT repeat myself,” Marquise warned her. 

Alicia huffed and began to turn on her heel. But not before saying one last thing to her husband. 

“I should've had Edward kill you when I had the chance!”

The Earl scoffed.

“Well, now you can't. And until our youngest three children have finished their studies and are off to university, I am stuck living with a shrew of a wife better known as you.”

Alicia stood there with her mouth open as she watched her husband walk out. Then followed behind him not too long after. 

“Well that was certainly eventful,” Shantel said to Marquise. 

Marquise only shook his head. 

“Too eventful.”

“What happened to them?” Shantel asks, “From all I ever heard he's been nothing but good to her.” 

“He has. But she's never been any good to him.”

“But why? What has he done that she hates him so much?”

Marquise looked at his door for a moment.

“Off the record? The three youngest children he mentioned…aren't biologically his.”

“What?!” Shantel asked. 

“Their biological father was a man Alicia had been having an affair with for years. He worked on her and Amos’s estate staff. And rather than risk the scandal of divorce, he's raised them as his own.” Marquise replies. 

“Do you think their children know he's not their biological father?” Shantel asked. 

“I doubt it. I don’t think he wants them to know.”

Shantel nodded. 

“I can understand why. It would break his heart. Where is their biological father?”

Marquise exhaled slowly. 

“You don't know this but your brother-in-law had him executed when the man threatened to go public about his and Alicia’s affair.”

“You're joking!”

Marquise shook his head no. 

“Nope. And Edward made sure to have this man erased from all public records. And he even told Amos that he was to raise the children as his own until they became of age.”

“Edward, had every trace of him erased?”

“Yes. You forget he had A LOT of unchecked power then. No one would have questioned him then. It took me a while but I did find the man’s name.”

“What was it?”

“His name was Yohan. But that's all I have been able to recover about him.”

“Surely the man had a family.”

Marquise exhaled slowly. 

“If he did, they were silenced by either execution or exile.”

Shantel shook her head. 

“So is that all nobles do? Cheat on each other and drink themselves to death?” she asked. 

“No. They also brag about their insane wealth and power while thinking it rivals mine.”

“And we both know your power is unmatched.”

“Exactly. So now that all that ugliness is over, how about I treat you to lunch?” Marquise asked.

“I would love to have lunch with you son-in-love.” 

“Perfect!” 

Later that night Marquise had caught Shanelle up on his very colorful morning. 

“Alicia was cheating on Earl Amos?” 

“Yes. For years. And she was able to get away with it.”

“How?”

“She knew he could never challenge her because all she had to do was run to either Edward or Genevieve and she'd be safe. So he knew it was safer to keep quiet.”

“Yikes!”

“Yeah.” 

Shanelle took a sip of her wine. 

“Now are you sure this Alicia woman working under my mom is a good idea?” 

“Absolutely. I trust your mother, I especially trust in her judgment. I also trust that Alicia will remember that she has more to lose than gain if she defies the decision that was reached.”

Shanelle nodded. 

“Now onto more exciting things. Like your graduation next week.”

Marquise snickered. 

“I am so excited. I can't wait.”

“Same! We've been waiting for it and now it's here. How do you really feel?” she asked. 

“Honestly, I’m relieved. It's been a long journey. But it's been worth it. And now by this time next week, I will have my degree in my hands. And then we and the kingdom will celebrate our favorite kingdom pastime.”

“I know I’m so excited. I love seeing the palace and the orchard all decorated. And it'll be the first Winter Festival that the boys will be able to participate in.”

“They were at the one last year.”

“They were with Nina all day. She kidnapped our boys.”

“Not that you minded my Queen.”

“True.”

“But you’re right. They will have a blast.”

“And of course, there's my favorite: the annual snowball fight.”

Marquise raised an eyebrow at his wife. 

“What do you have planned for this year, my love?”

“Battle of the sexes!” 

“You mean I get to throw a snowball at you?”

“No. It means you will finally be dethroned as the defending snowball fight champion.”

Marquise snickered. 

“May the best team win my Goddess.”

“I know I will.”

Marquise rolled his eyes good-naturedly. 

Over the next few days, the couple spent time together before His Majesty had to get ready for his solo trip to the States. While he was excited to go, his children weren't. They had never been away from their dad for that long. So the Princess came up with a great idea for her and her brothers. They would go with him without him knowing. She pulled out one of her Daddy’s biggest suitcases and did her checklist. 

“Okay, boys! We have our snacks, our juice, and our chocolate milk! Now do you have your blankies?” Khari asked her brothers. Both boys held up their blankies. 

“And you have your touchdown bears?”

The boys held up their bears. 

“Alright! Let's hop in!”

All three climbed into the suitcase and shut it. 

“Okay, boys! We gotta be quiet so Daddy doesn't know! So shhh!” she whispered to her giggling brothers. Who tried their hardest to quiet down so they wouldn't get caught. Sadly they were caught when their parents couldn't find them and looked all over the palace for them. But they discovered the suitcase they were hiding in. 

“Babe?” Shanelle asked over her shoulder. 

“Yeah?” Marquise replied. 

“Is this one of your suitcases?” 

Marquise looked at it.

“Yeah, but I never packed this one.” 

“Then why is it closed?”

Marquise went to open it when he heard familiar giggling. He shook his head and started to chuckle. 

“What's so funny?”  Shanelle asked. 

“I just figured out why we haven't been able to find the children.”

“What do you mean?”

“Take a listen.”

Shanelle leaned in and heard the same giggling. 

“No, they didn't.”

“Yes, they did.”

Shanelle shook her head with a smile. 

“Let's play along.”

Shanelle nodded. 

“There's my suitcase! I've been looking all over for it!”

“Good, I'm glad you found it. Now you and my dad can go on your trip.”

“Yup now let me just zip it up.”

The giggling intensified when he zipped up the suitcase. 

“Say, my love, have you seen the children?” he asks. 

“No, I can't say that I have,” she replied.

“Oh well! I'm sure we'll see them before I leave.”

Marquise picked up the suitcase and carried it down with the children giggling inside and him and Shanelle snickering the whole time. When they got to the main hall where Shanelle’s parents were waiting they heard the giggling. 

“What in the world is going on?” Damien asks. 

Shanelle told them and asked them to play along. 

“Well, Your Highness. I believe we're ready to leave.” Marquise said to Damien. 

“Yes, my King. It seems that we are ready. It's just I haven't seen the kids. Shantel and I looked everywhere for them.”

“Y’know that's funny! Their mother and I were just saying the same thing.” 

“Where could those kids be?” Shantel asked. 

Shanelle just shook her head laughing softly. That's when Margo walked up. 

“Are you ready to leave my King?” she asked Marquise. 

“Yes. We will be leaving shortly. Do me a favor. Take a listen to the suitcase.”

Margo took a listen and heard her grandchildren giggling. 

“Why are they in the suitcase?” Margo asked. 

“Because apparently, they think they're going with me. So we're playing along.” Marquise whispered. 

Margo nodded. 

“Mama, since you’re here have you seen the children?” Marquise asked. 

“No, I haven't. I thought they were with you and their mother.” Margo replies. 

“No. No one has seen them. Damien and I can't leave without saying goodbye to them. Oh well! Let me take my suitcase and Damien and I can take our leave.” 

“That's an unusually large suitcase, my son. What do you have in it?” Margo asked. 

“You know I don't remember what I packed in it. Let me check.” 

Marquise opened the suitcase and there were his children and their giggling. 

“There you are! What are the three of you doing in my suitcase?” Marquise asks. 

“We don't want you to leave so we're going with you Daddy,” Khari replied. 

His heart exploded as he helped them out of the suitcase and sat down with them. 

“My love you know you and your brothers can't go with me.”

“But!” Khari pouted.

Marquise put a gentle finger to her lips. 

“My love. I love you and I love Zyon and I love Kylo. But you three are too young to go with me.”

“But we don't want you to go Daddy.”

“I know you don't. I won't be gone long.”

He hated seeing the looks on their little faces. 

“I'll see you three Thursday.”

“It's not the same Daddy,” Khari said, shaking her head sadly. 

“Dada…” Zyon whined. 

Marquise took a deep breath. 

“If it's one thing you three know how to do perfectly, it's tugging at Daddy’s heartstrings.”

He gathered the three of him in his arms.

“I love you. I love each of you. I don't like to leave you but sometimes Daddy has to. But I promise I  will never ever be gone for very long.”

Marquise looked at his children and smiled before clearing his throat and singing softly. 

“Come now my sweet babies please don't cry. Let's wipe those tears from your eyes. Let's see those smiles so they brighten up the day. Always remember no matter what, Daddy is never too far away.”

He held his children close before Kylo looked up at him then went and grabbed his blankie. 

“Blankie!” he said as he held it up to his father. 

“You want me to take it with me?” Marquise asked. 

Kylo’s only answer was a smile. 

“Thank you, my love. I will take great care of it.”

Zyon followed suit by giving his father his touchdown bear. 

“My! I'm being spoiled today. Thank you.”

He held his two boys close to his chest. 

“My two sweet loves. I love you both more than I could ever tell you. I will see you both soon. I won't be gone for long.”

He kissed them both on their foreheads before sending them to their mother and turning his attention to his daughter. 

“Come here, my love.”

Khari stood in front of her father with a sad look on her face. 

“Are you mad at me Daddy?” she asked. 

“Never. You are allowed to feel whatever it is you feel. I could never fault you for that.” he replied. 

“So I’m not in trouble?” 

“No. You and your brothers kinda gave yourselves away when you first started giggling. We couldn't help but play along.” 

“You knew that we were in the suitcase the whole time?”

“Yes, my sweet one. We did. Your mother and I couldn't help but play along.”

“Oh…” Khari said dejectedly. 

Marquise tilted his head before gently tilting her chin up. 

“You have no idea how much I adore you. I adore the way you love your little brothers. I know why you feel the way you do. I used to feel that way whenever my mother had to leave for a short period.”

“Really?” she asked. 

“Yes. When I was 8 years old, Mother had to go on a leaders fellowship to Namibia for three months and I missed her terribly. Every day I would ask everyone on her staff when she was coming back.” 

“You did?” Khari asks. 

“Ohh yes. Every single day until your grandmother returned.” Margo replied. 

Khari giggled. 

“My point is I know what it feels like. I know you don't want me to go but I have to. It will only be for a few days.”

Khari looked down at the ground. He pulled her close to him. 

“Do you know what happens next Saturday?” he asked her. 

“Your graduation?” she replies. 

“Yes. Do you know why I’m excited about it?”

“Because you worked really hard for it?” 

“Yes. But that's not why I’m excited about it.”

“Then why Daddy?”

“Because you and your brothers will be walking across the stage with me when I get my degree.”

Khari perked up.

“We will?” 

“Yes. I asked if it would be okay and the committee I spoke to agreed.” 

Khari nodded. 

“Look at me, my love.”

Khari looked up at her dad.

“I will only be gone for a few days. I know you’re sad but we’ll be together again on Thursday.”

“You promise Daddy?”

“I swear it on my heart, my life, and my soul. I will never be away from your side for too long.” 

Khari chewed her bottom lip and then nodded. 

“Okay.”

Marquise wrapped his daughter in a loving hug as he stood up. 

“I love you, I adore you. My sweet beautiful Princess.”

Khari gave him a big kiss on the cheek. 

“I love you too Daddy. I'm sorry we tried to trick you.”

“No need to apologize, my love. Now go to your mother. Okay?”

Khari nodded. 

“I will call you and your brothers tonight okay?”

“Pinky promise?” she asked, holding up her pinky. 

“Pinky promise,” he replied, hooking his pinky to hers.

With a soft kiss on her forehead from her father Khari was at her mother’s side. Marquise stood up and looked to his father-in-law.

“Your Highness, NOW we can leave.”

“Of course,” Damien replied with a small chuckle. 

With final goodbyes to their loved ones. Marquise and Damien were soon on their way to the airstrip. Once in the air Marquise silently became curious about his children’s plan to go with him. 

“Something on your mind son?” Damien asked. 

“Just wondering where Khari got the idea to pack herself and the boys in a suitcase,” Marquise replies. 

Damien chuckled. 

“From me. It's an old story that I told her when she asked me if her mother had ever gotten into big trouble as a child.”

“What do you mean?” Marquise asked. 

“Shanelle was 4 years old when she didn't want me to leave on a trip home. So she packed herself into my suitcase and fell asleep.” 

Marquise snorted. 

“And I nearly missed my flight because Shantel and I couldn't find her.” Damien replied. 

Marquise nodded with a smile. 

“I guess she thought she’d succeed where her mother failed.” Damien quipped. 

“She would have if she and the boys weren't giggling so much.”

Damien simply nodded with a smile. 

His Majesty and Prince Damien’s US trip began when they touched down in Tennessee. There they were taken across the state line into Kentucky, where they visited His Majesty’s Bourbon Distillery. They toured the facility and even got to taste the special holiday blend. As well as touring the four adjacent horse farms. That's where His Majesty got the idea for the name of the distillery. Terre de Chevaux. Which means Land Of Horses.  

That night he called to check in with his children. 

“Hello, my little ones! I miss you so much.”

“We miss you too Daddy. How is your trip?” Khari asked while holding the phone so her brothers could see. 

“It's been fun. I toured the distillery and the horse farms around it and do you know what I found out?” Marquise replied. 

Khari shook her head no.

“I met some of the horses. And I learned their names.”

“What are their names?” 

“One is named Esther after my grandmother. Another is named Victor after my uncle. And the last one is named Ellie.”

“Like Grandmother?”

“Exactly my love.”

“Wow! Will we get to meet them, Daddy?”

“I hope so.”

“Where do you go next Daddy?”

“I will go to the capitol in Washington D.C. tomorrow, where I will get to speak to Congress, and then your grandfather and I will be in Boston. Where I will see you three Thursday.”

“We can't wait! Right boys?” Khari asked her brothers who were trying to take the phone from her. 

“It's time for bed my loves.”

“Okay, Daddy. We’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“I love you all. So much.”

“We love you too! Right boys?”

Later after putting their children to bed, Shanelle had a quiet conversation with her husband. 

“Finally! They're all down for the count.”

Marquise snickered. 

“I miss you. You know that right?”

“Yeah, I know. I miss you too, handsome. But like you told the kids we’ll see each other Thursday.”

“Indeed we will. It's amazing that we’ve been to Boston twice in one year.”

“I know you should go play the numbers while you’re in the States.” 

Marquise snorted. 

“Yeah sure I will.”

Shanelle let out a small yawn that she failed to hide. 

“Go to bed, my Queen. I'll text you in the morning.”

“Alright. Goodnight Handsome.”

“Goodnight my Goddess.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too Shanelle.”

After blowing her husband a small kiss, Shanelle went to bed. The next morning, His Majesty touched down in Washington D.C. to re-sign the Cordon-America Act of 1985. After signing the act Marquise got the chance to speak to Congress. Something he only ever dreamed about. 

“Good Morning everyone! My what a dream come true this is for me. I actually get to speak to Congress as a whole. If only my Poli Sci professor could see me now.”

In his nearly 45-minute speech, Marquise highlighted the importance of the act and the continuation of the shared goal between his kingdom and America. A free, safe, and fair world for all to live in. After his speech, he and Damien toured The Library Of Congress, where he saw the original Declaration of Independence. Once the tour ended, they traveled to the Maryland National Cemetery so Damien could lay flowers at his in-law's graves. 

“I haven't been here in a few years. It's good to see them.” Damien said as he laid the flowers on each grave. 

“Thank you for bringing me here. Shanelle talks about them all the time. Especially your former mother-in-law.”

Damien snickered. 

“Yes. Mom is where Shanelle gets her personality from. That Jamaican fire runs through my daughter's veins.”

“And mine,” Marquise added. 

The two shared a chuckle. After a short flight that evening, His Majesty found himself back home in Boston and getting ready for his graduation. The next day, his wife, children, mother, and mother-in-law arrived from Cordonia. And he couldn't wait to hold his babies again. 

“I've missed you three so much,” he said as he hugged them. 

“We've missed you too Daddy! How has your trip been?” Khari asks. 

“It's been good but it's better now that you three are here. And just like I promised you, we’re together again. And you and your brothers can explore the house.” Marquise replied as he led his family into the living room. “But before that, I believe I have a few items to return.”

He pulled out Kylo’s blanket and Zyon’s bear. 

“I believe that these belong to the two of you.”

Later that night after a big dinner and getting his children off to sleep. His Majesty went to check on his mother who was just settling into her bed. 

“Are you alright Mama?”

“Yes, my love. I'm fine. I am perfectly happy.”

“Happy eh?”

“Yes of course my son. By this time Saturday, you'll have your Doctorate in hand. And will be able to display it in your office back home.”

Marquise chuckled. 

“It means the world that you’re here with me.”

“It means the world to be here. To represent our kingdom and our family.”

“It's funny. I look around this room and I can't help but miss Papa. I wish he could be here.”

Margo took his hands in hers and looked at him with a warm smile. 

“I know you do, my son. The last time I was here was with him when you earned your bachelor's degree. He would be thrilled to see you earn your Ph.D. As a matter of fact, the whole flight he would've had the children in stitches and excited about your graduation. But it's just Papa that you miss is it?”

Marquise took a deep breath. 

“No. My heart aches for her. I miss her. I wish she could be here as well.”

“She is here my love. She's so incredibly proud of the man you have become. She would be filled with such pride at all you have accomplished in your life. And so would Papa. They look down from heaven with smiles as bright as the sun and as wide as a Cheshire Cat.”

Marquise shook his head with a smile before kissing her forehead softly. 

“Thank you, Mama. You always know what I need.”

She kissed his cheek. 

“I'm your mother. I will always know what you need.”

“Get your rest, Mama. I'll see you in the morning.”

Margo smiled at him as he left the room and returned to the master bedroom where his wife was. He climbed into bed with her and wrapped himself around her. 

“My big ass baby.”

“I've missed you.”

“I've missed you too but you are way too heavy. Now get off of me.”

Tried as she might, but Shanelle could not get him off of her. 

“Marquise…I…can’t…breathe! Get off me!”

He finally let her go.

“Big ass creep!” she said as she caught her breath. 

“Your big ass creep. Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

She snuggled into him. 

“How are you feeling?” she asks. 

“Relieved. It'll all be over soon. All the hours of study and presentation and research will have all paid off.”

“Mmmhmm. And soon you will officially be a Doctor and a King.”

Marquise snorted. 

“Very funny.”

“You love me.”

“Indeed I do. I will say I can't wait to see our children walk the stage with me.”

Shanelle shook her head with a smile. 

“Their little cap and gowns came the day after you left. So Khari has been teaching the boys how to walk the stage.”

“Please tell me you got it on video.”

Shanelle handed him her phone. 

“See for yourself, Your Majesty.”

Marquise watched as his daughter tried to teach her brothers how to walk a graduation stage in hilarious fashion. 

“Well…she tried.”

“Yup. They are cute though.”

“Very,” he said with a small smile. 

As he lay in bed with his wife, Marquise became contemplative. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” she asks. 

“My thoughts are worth more than all the literal gold in our vault. But since it's you, sure,” he replied. 

“What's really on your mind? Is it your mother?” she asks. 

Marquise sighed. 

“Yes. I can't help but wish she was here. I can't help but want her to be here. I want to see her celebrate with you, Margo, and your parents. And I want to see her standing behind our children. Cheering them on.” he paused to clear his throat, “You would think that after 26 years my heart would have healed itself by now. But it hasn't. That void in my heart is still there. That need to see her, to be around her, to be able to hold her hand or hug her is still there. I just hope to God that I've made her proud.”

“I know it is. And I know in my heart that you have made her proud. Everything that you've accomplished in and with your life has made her proud. This is just another accolade to add to the list of things that she's proud of you for.” 

He kissed her forehead softly. 

“Thank you, my love.”

“It's what I’m here for.”

He smiled at her as he held her close. 

That Saturday was the big day for His Majesty. After getting dressed himself, he hilariously got his children dressed in their caps and gowns. With both boys being so enamored with their caps. Once everyone was ready it was time to head to the university. Once they arrived Marquise took a very deep breath for this was it. Everything he'd worked for had led up to this very moment. And it was a moment that didn't disappoint.

He finally got to do the one thing he had been dying to do. Walk the graduation stage. But what made it even more special was his children walking with him. He was proud as they stole the show. Afterward, he found himself in his mother’s arms. 

“I am so proud of you, my love. So proud! You've done it, my boy! You've really done it!” Margo said proudly. 

“Thank you. I'm still in shock but I am so thankful to have you here. By my side, to celebrate with me.”

“My love, there is nowhere on this earth that I’d rather be. I got to watch you achieve yet another one of your dreams.”

Marquise closed his eyes and laid his forehead against hers. 

“Look at me, son.”

He looked at her. 

“I wholeheartedly believe that Eleanor is jumping for joy right now. She is elated that her son is not only a King but he's also now a Doctor. You are her greatest dream come true. Her smile is as bright as the sky and as wide as a canyon. And so is Papa. You know he is in heaven just bragging about his boy doing it yet again. Telling every angel he comes across that his son has become a Doctor.”

He pulled her close. 

“Thank you. For every single thing. I would not be where I am, I would not be the man I am, without you. Please don't ever forget that.”

“I never have and I never will my son. Now go celebrate my love. Go on.”

Later that night after hours of celebrating with his family. He spent time with the one he loves most, his wife. They were nestled together on the couch in the living room. 

“I'm so proud of you. You know that right?” she asks. 

He placed a sweet kiss on the palm of her left hand. 

“I know. You've been one of my biggest cheerleaders throughout all of this. When I wanted to stop or give up you told me to keep going. Or else you'd slug me.” he replies. 

Shanelle snorted. 

“Mission accomplished.” 

Shanelle took a look around the room. 

“Our story began right here. In this house. On this couch because someone’s big ass pulled his hamstring racing a bunch of teenagers.”

He punched her. 

“Ow!”

“That's what you get!”

“Jerk!” she hissed. 

“Chicken, shrimp, or goat?” he asked.  

“You're lucky I love you.”

“I really am. Because at the time we got engaged, there was a part of me that feared you would've turned me down.”

Shanelle took a deep breath. 

“Please don't hate me for this.”

“For what?” he asked. 

“There was a part of me that wanted to tell you no. A HUGE part. I wanted to run away from you and not look back.” she replied. 

“Why didn't you?” he asks. 

“Because I love you. That's why. I couldn't let you go even when my brain was screaming for me to do so. You showed me what true love is. You made a promise that you have never broken. You promised to love, protect, and nurture my heart and my love. And you have constantly and consistently kept that promise.” she replies. 

“And I always will. If you don't believe anything else from me, you can believe that.”

Shanelle smiled at him as they continued to enjoy a quiet moment together. Once back in Cordonia, planning for the Winter Festival kicked into high gear. Crews worked overtime making sure every detail was perfect and to Shanelle’s exact specifications. All the while Marquise had plans of his own. 

With the palace being as big as it is, there is a lot of unused and mostly dead space on certain floors. So he decided to have three floors converted. One into a personal bowling alley. Another into a massive indoor ball pit and playground for his children. The final floor is the one he's most excited about, that floor will be an indoor laser tag arena. And it has to be tested out to make sure it's safe and ready for the barrage of kids and adults who will want to play. Because it will be open to his family and the staff and their families. 

That Friday before the Winter Festival, Their Majesties hosted their family, both immediate and extended at the palace residence. While the children were having a time running around playing, Marquise pulled Logan aside. 

“Come with me,” Marquise said to Logan. 

“Where we going?” he asks. 

“It's a surprise. Trust me you'll like it.” Marquise replied. 

“Nope! You know I don't like surprises unless I’m in on them. So where are we going?” Logan asks. 

“I'll show you when we get there,” Marquise replied through clenched teeth. 

“Ohhhh…okay Uncle Scar.”

“Shut up and move Simba.”

Marquise led Logan to an elevator and used a keycard to enter. 

“Well, this is spooky…” 

“Get in the elevator Logan.”

Logan shot him a suspicious look before he and Marquise got into the elevator. 

“Okay. I'm in the elevator. Now what?” Logan asks. 

“Now we go down to the basement,” Marquise replied. 

“To your dungeon?” Logan asks. 

“No. That's on the other side of the palace. And you'd have no access to that. But this is something else.” Marquise replies. 

They rode the elevator down and got off when it dinged. Once out of the elevator, they walked down a hall to a door with a keypad. 

“What's behind the door?” Logan asks. 

Rather than answer, Marquise smirked and then slid his keycard to open the door. When the door opened, Logan’s jaw dropped. 

“Welcome to my newest toy.”

“What is it?” Logan asked. 

“This is my brand new laser tag arena,” Marquise replied. 

“Laser…tag…arena?!” 

“That's what I said.”

“Dude! When the hell did you have time to do all of this?” Logan asks. 

“Construction started back in May. And was completed after the boy's birthday. But it's still not quite ready yet.” Marquise replies. 

“What do you mean?” Logan asked. 

“It hasn't been tested…yet,” Marquise replies. 

That's when Logan’s grin widened. 

“And who's going to be brave enough to test it out, sire?”

“Why we are, my good man!” 

“Man! Let's go!”

The two suited up and spent a few hours laughing and having a good time in the arena. When they left both were buzzing. 

“That was amazing. Thank you for sharing it with me. Even though you cheated half the time.”

Marquise snorted. 

“You're welcome. And thank you for coming. I'm glad you had a good time.”

“I can't wait to tell my wife about it.”

“As long as you don't tell the children. I want it to be a surprise for them.”

“My lips are sealed, Your Highness.”

When they got to the common area, their wives were enjoying a glass of wine.

“And just where have you two been the past few hours?” Shanelle asked them. 

“Out.” They both reply. 

The wives looked at each other. 

“Uh-huh. You two went to check out Marquise’s laser tag arena, didn't you?” Bronwyn asks. 

The men's jaws dropped. 

“How do you know?!” they asked. 

Bronwyn answered by pointing to Shanelle. 

“How do YOU know?!” they asked. 

Shanelle shrugged. 

“I might've accidentally stumbled upon the construction site one day.”

“You mean you were being nosy?” Marquise asks. 

“It is my job to be,” Shanelle replied. 

Marquise groaned. 

“Relax. Your kid doesn't know. I haven't told her.”

Marquise visibly relaxed. 

“I can't keep nothing from you, can I?” Marquise asked. 

“Nope. Now move it, you two. We have a Winter Festival to get ready for tomorrow.” Shanelle replied. 

The next day was the day of the Cordonian Winter Festival. All of Shanelle's hard work and planning had finally come to fruition. Many enjoyed a plethora of winter activities. Including snowmobiles. Which Marquise, Logan, Branden, and Brayden took full advantage of. 

“Alright, Brayden. We got a big job.”

“What's that?” he asked. 

“We gotta beat your dad and brother in the race,” Marquise replied. 

“Yeah yeah! Go super fast!”

“And do you know what we win when we win?” Marquise asked his nephew. 

“What uncle?” 

“Bragging rights my boy! Bragging rights!”

“Yay!” 

“So ready…set…”

“VRRRROOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMM!”

“And we're off!” 

While the dads and the boys enjoyed the snowmobiles, Shanelle took the girls ice skating out on the frozen pond. 

After riding around on snowmobiles it was time for the main event, the annual snowball fight. That both royals were determined to win. 

“Any last words before I take your title, Your Majesty?” Shanelle asked her husband. 

“Keep dreaming woman!” Marquise replied with a smirk. 

“I am so going to enjoy this!”

“You enjoy losing?…how very odd.”

Once the trash talk was done, the whistle was blown and the fight was on. It was a battle of giggling proportions. With trying to take out one another. 

“Will you hold still?!” Shanelle shouted at her husband. 

“Why? So you can hit me?!” he replied. 

“Yes!”

“No!”

The snowball fight was epic and ended in a draw. Which was a delight to all who participated, watched, and cheered. Before the event was over His Majesty decided to try his hand at axe throwing with Sam and a very animatedly drunk Logan. 

“Uh, Logan?” Sam asks. 

“Yeah?” Logan replied. 

“How many of those have you had?” Marquise asked, pointing to the pint in Logan’s hand. 

“Including this one?” he replied before downing the rest of the pint, “eight.”

Sam and Marquise looked at each other. 

“You've had eight pints of Skullcracker Ale? Are you nuts? That stuff is powerful!” Marquise asked. 

“Yeah, I know. Who knew you Europeans could make a strong ale?” Logan replied before grabbing an ax, “Now let's really have some fun!” 

“Oh Dear God…” Marquise groaned.

“If he hits either one of us…” Sam warned. 

“Noted.”

Sam and Marquise stood way back and watched Logan toss the axe and wildly miss his first target. 

“Missed it by an inch. Let me try again.”

Logan tried again with Sam and Marquise looking on. 

“How long are you going to let this go on?” Sam asks. 

“Until either he runs out of steam or they run out of axes,” Marquise replied. 

“Which one is more likely to happen?” Sam asks. 

“They run out of axes,” Marquise replies. 

“So we're gonna be here a while?” Sam asks. 

“Yup so settle in my friend,” Marquise replies. 

Later that night after the Winter Festival had concluded, His Majesty told his wife what had happened at the ax throwing booth.

“Logan had how many pints?” Shanelle asks.

“You heard me. He had eight pints of Skullcracker Ale.” Marquise replied. 

“How did you let him drink that many pints?” 

“First of all, I didn't let him do anything. He was already halfway through his eighth one when I got there. And second, saying you’re great friends with the King will get you anything in this kingdom. Including eight pints of Skullcracker Ale. Especially when the limit is four pints.” 

Shanelle groaned. 

“That hangover is about to be epic.”

“Oh yeah. He's gonna be feeling it for days. But thank goodness there's a hangover cure.”

“I can only handle three pints of Skullcracker Ale. I don’t know how Logan managed to drink eight of them.”

“Because he has an iron liver?” 

Shanelle snorted. 

“That's for sure.”

“And how are you, my love? What was the final tally?” he asks. 

“I'm good. I'm exhausted. Today was so much fun. And the money raised during the silent auction was enough to fund the Children's Fund. All in all, it was a great day. People had fun and that's all I care about. It's why I do this every year.”

“I know and you do a brilliant job at this if I do say so myself.”

“Careful Your Majesty. Your personal bias is showing.”

“So? I'm allowed to brag about and celebrate my beautiful wife’s accomplishments all I like. Thank you very much.” 

“Fine. Just one question.”

“Hmm?”

“What are we doing for Christmas?” she asks. 

“How about somewhere tropical?” he replies. 

“Works for me!” 

“I shall make our Christmas arrangements post haste.” 

“Yay!”

Just then there was an urgent knock at their bedroom door. 

“Who in the world is that?” she asks. 

“I'll go find out,” he replied. 

When he got up and answered the door, there was an attendant on the other side. 

“Yes?” he asked as he stepped outside. 

“Apologies for the disturbance this late Your Majesty but there is news out of Earl Amos’s house.” the attendant replies. 

“What is it?” he asked. 

“Earl Amos Barbaroux is dead.” the attendant replied. 

“What?!”

“He was stabbed to death in his office.” 

“What?! By who?” 

“Lady Alicia, sire. From what I have been told they got into an argument and she stabbed him in the chest with a letter opener. Repeatedly.” 

“Where is she now?”

“An arrest warrant was issued for her but she's taken refuge at the old palace but that's all I know at the moment.”

Marquise groaned. 

“Great…thank you for informing me. Please keep me informed of any further details.”

“At once sire.”

When Marquise entered the bedroom, he had an annoyed look on his face. 

“What's that look for?” Shanelle asks. 

“Earl Amos is dead,” he replied. 

“Lady Alicia’s husband?” 

“Yes. She stabbed him to death.”

“What?! Why?” 

“I don't know yet. But I will find out. Just not right now.”

“What happens to his estate in the meantime?”

“It goes to their oldest daughter.” 

“Do you know where she is now?”

“Hiding out at your palace to avoid arrest but that's as far as I've gotten.” 

“She won't be there for long. I'll put the call in to have her removed from the property. I will NOT be sheltering her.”

“You're not. Her step-sister is.”

“I don't care about her step-sister. Genevieve can kiss my whole ass. Alicia’s gone as early as tomorrow morning.”

Marquise smirked. 

“So says the Queen.” 

“So shall it be.”