#neal keeling

[callmebrycelee]

9-1-1: LONE STAR REACTION

This reaction is for the season 4, sixth episode "This Is Not a Drill" which originally aired on February 28, 2023. THis episode was written by Kelly Souders and Brian Peterson and directed by Michael Medico. Spoilers ahead!

***LAST TIME ON 9-1-1: LONE STAR***

Marjan discovers she is the reason the 126 has been brought under review by the Austin Fire Department Internal Affairs due to her calling a woman she was rescuing a "crazy lady". The woman and her former ex-husband ask Marjan to publicly apologize as well as paste a link to their GoFundMe on her Instagram. Marjan refuses to be extorted and ends up resigning from the 126. Meanwhile, Grace investigates the concerning phone calls she has been receiving from a little boy. She enlists the help of her husband and Tommy to come to the boy's (and his mother's) rescue. 

Now that we're all caught up, let's talk about episode six - THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

We begin the episode with an actual drill. The 126, sans Marjan Marwani, enter a building with bomb gear on. Owen leads the team up a set of stairs and they find a young boy and his father. Owen tells the little boy to evacuate while Tommy tends to his father. The little boy tells Owen that his two sisters are in the room next door. Owen and the others go to the next room, open the door, and BOOM! Pink mist! The lights come on and a very official-looking woman with a clipboard in her hand comes out and tells them they're all dead. Paul, Mateo, Nancy, and TK are all upset by their failure at the drill. Nancy suggests that she is merely maimed and not dead since she isn't as covered in pink mist as the others. Paul makes a reference to the Kobayashi Maru (an unwinnable test) and my heart is filled with joy. My boy Paul is a Trekkie! It was fun to hear them banter back and forth but judging by the look on Captain Strand's face, he was not having it.

Title card!

Back at the house, Paul, Mateo, Nancy, and TK are in a jovial mood. They all take a selfie together to send to Marjan. Owen snaps on all of them and tells them to think about all of the first responders who went on calls where they didn't come back alive. I mean Owen does have a point but he's also being a major buzzkill. The others feel like poo after his outburst. Tommy gives Judd a look that says, hey, you got this one. Judd, our second in command, sighs and goes to talk to the captain. 

Judd goes to Owen's office and tells him that the others - Paul, Mateo, Nancy, and TK - haven't been through what they have. They don't know what it's like to lose someone on the job. Judd also reminds Captain Strand that the drills are designed for them to fail. Owen goes to close the door to his office. He tells Judd he believes something big is coming. He then tells Judd that the Honor Dogs are on the FBI's domestic terror watch list and that a truckload of ammonium nitrate was stolen. Judd asks him how he has all of this information and Owen confesses he's been working with the FBI. Judd asks if the Feds have any clue as to what the Honor Dogs are planning and Owen tells him that they won't even return his phone calls. Owen says he's tired of sitting around waiting for something to happen so he tells Judd he's acting captain until he returns. 

Owen goes off, alone, in one of the Austin Fire Department pickups, to the Honor Dogs' clubhouse and is met with an icy reception. He tells Red (Dan Sanders-Joyce) he wants to have a chat with him. Red asks if he's wearing a wire this time and Owen says he's not and tells Red he can "check his junk". Red says that he doesn't talk to Feds or the friends of Feds and threatens to drag Owen out of the bar. Owen reminds him he's a fire captain and tells him he can have the bar shutdown due to several fire hazards. Red asks him what he wants and Owen reveals that he knows about the ANFO (ammonium nitrate) and suggests that he can make a deal with Red if he gives everything up. Red is unmoved by Owen's words and claims he doesn't know anything. Owen is inclined to believe him just as the FBI raid the place. Owen is escorted outside by Special Agent Chuck Biondi (Rob Parks). Owen tells Biondi that he believes the Honor Dogs don't know anything about the stolen ANFO but Biondi is skeptical. He goes to put handcuffs on Owen right as the clubhouse explodes.

The rest of the 126 responds to the emergency and we find out there were nine FBI agents, including Special Agent Rose Casey (Amanda Schull), and who knows how many bikers inside the clubhouse when the bomb detonated. Paul and Judd notice an Austin Fire Department vehicle already on the scene. Judd gives out marching orders while Tommy, Nancy, and TK set start to set up triage. Owen carries Special Agent Casey out of the bar and she is taken by ambulance to the hospital with Owen riding with her. Special Agent Casey tells Owen she's scared and for a brief moment I wondered if this was a sign of a potential romance between the two. During the ambulance she asks him to call her "Rose" right before she dies.

Sergeant Ty O'Brien (Neal McDonough) arrives at the hospital at Owen's request. Owen fills him in on everything that's happened. Nine FBI agents, including Special Agent Casey, and several members of the Honor Dogs (we are told the number is in the double digits) are dead. However, Red is still alive but in surgery. The working theory regarding the explosion is someone 'accidentally' detonated the ammonium nitrate which was being housed at the bar. Neither Owen nor O'Brien believe this. Special Agent Biondi joins them and tells them that the case is closed since the prime suspect (Red) is in custody. Owen tells him that Red is not the man they are looking for and the explosion at the bar didn't even account for half of the stolen ammonium nitrate. Special Agent Biondi tells Owen that Red is refusing to talk. Owen suggests that he and O'Brien can try talking to Red.

Owen and O'Brien go into Red's room and find him bandaged up with several burns all over his body. The way he turned over in bed gave me Harvey Dent/Two-Face in The Dark Knight vibes. Red calls them both snitches which made me laugh. Owen informs him that eleven of his brothers are dead as a result of the explosion, including Turner (Scott Peat). Owen also tells him the FBI believes he is responsible due to his politics and their belief that he is a terrorist. Red doesn't seem too surprised by this information but he insists that he is not the one responsible. Owen mentions that prior to him arriving at the clubhouse the Honor Dogs in attendance looked like they were meeting about something. He asks if Red called the meeting. Red tells him that he didn't call the meeting but the invite came from his phone number. He suggests that someone 'spoofed' his phone number and he believes that someone is Andy - the person they kicked out due to his extreme views. Damn, how extreme do your views have to be if the Honor Dogs think they're too extreme?

The FBI raid Andy's house and find it empty. O'Brien tells Special Agent Biondi he hasn't heard from his niece (Andy's wife) in two days. Another FBI agent informs Owen, O'Brien, and Special Agent Biondi that a neighbor says they saw Andy's wife and son leave the house two days ago with an unidentified male. We then see Andy spray-painting a van. We also see two giant barrels of ANFO. Dun-dun-dunnnn!

Back at Andy's home, Owen asks O'Brien. Let me just say, I love their budding friendship. I feel like O'Brien brings out the best in Owen. He just seems more level-headed and people like Owen Strand need to be surrounded by people like Sergeant Ty O'Brien. Special Agent Biondi tells them three days ago someone blew up a school bus. Traces of ANFO were found at the scene along with a dead hiker. The school bus was traced back to a salvage yard where the owner identified Andy as the one who purchased it. Yikes! Things are not looking good for O'Brien's nephew. Special Agent Biondi asks O'Brien if he knows of where Andy may be. O'Brien doesn't know. Owen suggests Andy is living at The Farm which is where he and O'Brien found the ANFO. The FBI initially believed that Red and the other Honor Dogs moved the ANFO before the FBI raid, however Owen believes Andy is the one who moved it. Special Agent Biondi prepares to go to The Farm and O'Brien insists that he go with them. Special Agent Biondi seems reluctant to have him tag-along but Owen reminds him that he's already lost a lot of his team. Special Agent Biondi agrees to have O'Brien join them.

Owen heads back over to the 126 and comes clean to his team about his involvement with the FBI. He tells them that another terrorist plot is imminent and that he needs their help. Meanwhile, the FBI along with O'Brien and Carlos arrive at The Farm. I have to admit, Carlos looked pretty badass with a rifle in hand. We see Grace get a call at the 9-1-1 dispatch and then we see the alarm go off at the 126. Several houses are called into action. It's time for battle!

Back at The Farm, there's no trace of Andy. O'Brien speculates that someone is working with Andy and believes that person is still on the premises. Special Agent Biondi tells his team they need to head over to the capitol because he just got notice that an anonymous bomb threat has been called in. O'Brien thinks that they should continue searching the grounds, especially the surrounding woods. Special Agent Biondi tells him he can stay but they are leaving. Carlos offers to remain with O'Brien. Oooh, an O'Brien and Carlos team-up! I am definitely here for this!

Over at the capitol, the 126 are helping with evaculations. We see Owen inside of a van working with the bomb squad. They are trying to locate a bomb inside the capitol. Using a robot, they locate several metal drums possibly filled with ANFO. The funniest part of this scene is that Owen Strand, captain of the 126, appears to be running the whole operation. No one is a bigger Owen Strand-defender than I am. People often complain about how he gets too much to do in this show and my response is, Owen Strand is the main character on the show. Of course he gets more to do than anyone else. I don't see Lone Star as the ensemble show that the original 9-1-1 is. The original show has several big names attached to it (Angela Bassett, Peter Krause, Connie Britton, and Jennifer Love Hewitt) while outside of Rob Lowe, Live Tyler, and Gina Torres, Lone Star is mostly composed of actors who don't have a lot of heft to their iMDB pages. Anywho, with that said, I find it a wee bit ridiculous that a fire captain is having such a major environment in a bomb situation. And I know the writers are really pushing the narrative that Owen was at the Twin Towers during 9/11 but this is Austin, not New York City. Okay, back to the story.

The guy operating the robot asks how someone was able to get all of those explosives into the building without being noticed by security. Owen immediately leaves the van against orders and walks right into the capitol building. When TK sees him, he shakes his head and has a look on his face that says, dad's gonna dad. I feel like if this happened two seasons ago, TK would be freaking out. It just goes to show, after so many instances of Owen just walking into volatile situations, all willy nilly, everyone around him is just like, that's what he does. The guys in the van ask Owen what he's doing repeatedly over the radio and he assures them he will be out in a minute ... one way or another. Owen locates the metal drums and for some reason decides to open one against the orders of the bomb squad captain. Well, it turns out the drum is empty along with the others. Outside of the capitol, Andy pulls up in an EMS van (the same van we saw him spray-painting) and he starts the countdown on the bomb that is in the back of the van. We have 10 minutes! Yikes!

Meanwhile, my new favorite dynamic duo/buddy-cop pairing, O'Brien and Carlos, strike out into the woods where they find tiny white pellets littering the ground. O'Brien picks one of them up and determines its ammonium nitrate. O'Brien posits this is where the bomb was built. The two of them stumble upon a shed. O'Brien sees tire marks on the ground. He tells Carlos he will go inside and sweep the place and will holler if he needs him. O'Brien goes inside and sees evidence of where someone has been living. He continues to do a sweep of the premises and finds his niece, Joanne (Stevie Lynn Jones) and his great-nephew, Jack (Kayden Alexander Koshelev) in a cell. He opens the cell to release them but is shot by Mikey (Richard Meehan). It turns out Mikey is the same young guy we saw getting branded the night Owen and Judd went to the Honor Dog's clubhouse a few episodes ago. Thankfully, O'Brien is wearing a bulletproof vest. When Mikey goes to shoot him in the head, Carlos shoots him. Hey writers! This is the Carlos we need! Give me more badass Carlos! Oh, and please make him a detective. At this point, he's doing more than the average cop. 

Owen exits the capitol and radios to Judd that everyone needs to go back inside the building. Judd asks if this is an all-clear and Owen tells him the safest place for everyone to be is behind the building's granite walls. Now, I'm not an expert on explosives but are we supposed to believe the same ammonium nitrate that can take out most of Austin is no match for the capitol building? Then again, who am I, a mere writer who likes to react to episodes of the TV shows I enjoy, to question the authority of Captain Owen Strand? Anywho, Judd thanks everyone for participating in the drill and tells them to head back inside. Owen debriefs with the bomb squad captain, Captain Jenkins (Bob Stephenson) and Tommy. He believes the reason the bomber wanted them to evacuate the building is because the bomb is outside the capitol, not inside. Captain Jenkins tells him that his team has secured the perimeter. Owen tells him he believes the bomb is in an emergency vehicle since they have clearance and access to the scene. Tommy suggests the bomb is inside an ambulance which seems like a leap to me in logic but, then again, an ambulance has more space in it to keep the explosives so perhaps that's her logic. She also mentions she saw a unit pull onto the scene shortly before the all-clear was given. She gives the unit number to Captain Jenkins and leaves to inform his team.

Owen gets a call from O'Brien and the latter catches him up on what he and Carlos have been up to. O'Brien tells Owen that Mikey is the one running the operation, not Andy. I get that this changes things a bit about the situation but I still don't see a scenario where Andy doesn't end up going to jail. Owen hangs up with his bestie and then we get a huge product placement for Verizon, one of the worst, if not the worst, cell phone carriers in the country. The bomb squad uses a drone (sponsored by Verizon) to locate Andy and the ambulance he's in. Special Agent Biondi arrives and tells Owen that when they find Andy, they're going to take him out. Yikes! Owen walks away and tells Special Agent Biondi he will find Andy himself. Owen sheds his gear and goes looking for O'Brien's nephew. He locates Andy and the ambulance and tells him that he knows that he's O'Brien's nephew. Andy tells Owen that Mikey's going to kill his family if he doesn't go through with their plan but Owen holds up a phone so that he can hear his wife. Joanne tells Andy that Mikey's been arrested and that they are safe. Owen tells him to get out of the vehicle and get his hand off the detonator but Andy tells him it's too late. There's less than 3 minutes left. Owen tells him to step out and do whatever the FBI says. While the FBI subdues Andy, Owen climbs in the ambulance and drives off.

Owen calls 9-1-1 and gets Grace on the line because, of course! Grace directs Owen to drive the ambulance into the river and make sure it's completely submerged underwater. Owen jumps out of the ambulance right before it drives into the water. In a funny scene, the ambulance stops just short of the water but thankfully, Judd, Paul, and Mateo arrive and finish pushing the ambulance into the water before it explodes. The underwater explosion isn't as big as I was expecting and all I kept thinking is, all of the poor wildlife! Also, what happens to the water supply in Austin if the river now has ammonium nitrate in it? Are we going to have a Flint, Michigan-level crisis in Austin because of this? Anywho, the day is saved by Owen, Grace, and the 126 so yay!

We then get a flashback to last summer. We see Andy get kicked out of the Honor Dogs due to his extreme views. Mikey finds him and the manipulation begins. Back in the present day, Andy tells the FBI he was really angry. He says he should've just walked away from Mikey but instead he got pulled into the madness. We learn Mikey's the one who stole all of the ANFO. Mikey is clearly psychotic. Sensing Andy's reluctance, Mikey threatens to kill Andy's wife and son and when he saw Mikey take out the hiker, he knew the threat was real. I'm so relieved that it wasn't Andy who killed the hiker. The last thing he needs is murder added to his growing list of concerns. Andy says that Mikey forced him to go through with building the bomb. He apologizes to his wife, Joanne. Andy thanks everyone, including Owen, for saving his family and all of the people. 

We see Andy say goodbye to his wife before he is taken to jail while Owen and O'Brien watch. O'Brien says that the worst part of all of this is that now Andy will have to watch his son grow up from behind bars where he'll be for 20 years. O'Brien looks so defeated. I'm sure he probably blames himself for getting Andy involved with the Honor Dogs in the first place. O'Brien worries that Jack will grow up without a father just like Andy did. The cycle continues. O'Brien feels like he fails but Owen tells him that he hasn't. Andy's alive and that's what matters at the moment. O'Brien thanks Owen for being a pain in his ass. I hope we get to see more of these two. 

In the final scene of the episode, we see Owen arrive at TK and Carlos' place with Chinese food. TK is pleasantly surprised by his father's presence and invites him inside. Owen tells TK he's proud of him. TK thanks him and asks what brought all of this up. Owen says throughout all of their ups and downs, he is grateful that TK has never decided to blow up a government building. Owen mentions the wedding and tells them he has thoughts. We then see the three of them through a window right before everything fades to black. 

Okay, my thoughts on the episode? I really, really enjoyed it. I love that we got the culmination to a plot introduced at the beginning of the season. My initial concern was that we would drag this storyline out for most of the season. It was fun watching Owen save the day with the 126's help, of course, but I look forward to episodes where Owen isn't the main focus. At this point, I think the fandom will revolt if we don't focus on Paul or Nancy or Mateo. It does look like next episode we will get to see more of Tommy and her blossoming romance with Trevor (D.B. Woodside). So, until next time ...

[caliburn-the-sword]

it is SUCH a good thing that i wasn't allowed to write ouat. mainly because i was 5 years old when it first started airing but let's pretend for a minute we live in a world where time travel exists. because if i was then in season 3b you want to know how i would have revealed that snow and charming had split a heart keeping them both alive?? i would have had rumple rip it out of david's chest against his will, and for david to start keeling over, and everyone start freaking out... only for snow to ALSO cry out and collapse. ideally this happens across a battlefield, because david in true david fashion tried to rush zelena guns (sword) blazing. and as they die they crawl to each other to curl up and die together hand in hand romeo and juliet style. something about the futility of outrunning fate ending up in dooming them both. they adhered to prophecy and forced emma to grow up without them, and by trying to outsmart the terms of the curse they've now doomed their second child to grow up without them. except!! that's not entirely the case. because everyone in neal's life can pass on their wisdom, their lessons, their skills, their stories, in a way that emma never got for the first 28 years of her life. also idk what to call this because it's not exactly closure or redemption, but emma taking this child and raising it herself?? not being in a place of such instability, with such a lack of support that she has no choice but to give up this baby?? give her sibling the home and family that she never had?? AND KILLIAN. he doesn't at this point know that he killed david's father, but just imagine. he's gone from leaving a child fatherless to raising the child OF that boy. not to mention liam ii... this isn't about killian at all i just like talking about him. anyway idk this makes sense in my head and my head alone

[spooky-fm]

Phantom Thief

Ao3. Part 1. Part 2. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8.

Part 3. Neal Caffrey is probably a space pirate

"We are now entering the building, Neal, but it might take us a moment to find the room you are in. We will get you out soon."

"Good, that's good. You remember your promise, right?"

"Yes, I won't freak out. Diana and Jones will also hear you out before making any hasty decisions, ok?" Peter would very much like to know what could possibly make the unflappable conman so concerned about his reaction.

The two agents in question nod and respond verbally for the sake of Neal, who cannot see the gesture over the phone.

"Yeah, Caffrey, we'll listen to you, don't worry."

"We've got your back, man," Jones adds easily.

Peter is so proud of his team. They've come so far in the last two years.

"Thank you," is Neal's only response.

The four of them fall silent as they clear the ground floor and several basement layers. It doesn't take long — the whole place is abandoned, so they quickly discard the floors that are covered in an undisturbed layer of dust and debris. One of the basement floors seems well-used, like someone has been coming and going for a couple of weeks, so they follow the signs of use towards, hopefully, Neal's current location.

Neal has been quiet for the whole time, presumably to let them focus on the search, but the call is still ongoing. Peter almost forgets he is there, until the CI's voice comes through the phone again.

"I think I can hear footsteps," Neal says quietly. "You must be close."

Peter lets out a relieved sigh, echoed on two sides by Jones and Diana. They turn around a corner. There is faint light coming around the next turn.

"That's good, Neal. There seems to be a green light in the distance, is that familiar?" It would be just their luck to run into more hostiles thinking they were Neal.

Neal takes a shuddering breath that has Peter doubting the claim that he doesn't need medical attention, but he decides to wait for visual confirmation before breaking his promise to Neal. They are almost there, and it doesn't seem like Neal is about to keel over. His voice is unsteady, but it seems to be nerves, not pain or dizziness.

"Ye-yeah, Peter, that's me. Yeah," Neal pauses, like he is picking his words carefully. "The green, it's, well, it's a kind of an energy shield. Uh. It's what's keeping me inside the room. I'm not restrained otherwise, but you'll need to, uh, disable the shields. I know it sounds weird, but just," the sigh on the other end of the line seems frustrated instead of worried, and Peter takes that as a small victory. "Just trust me for now, ok?"

"Yeah, alright, Neal. We already promised to go with the flow, so we'll, uh, we'll disable the energy shields," Peter can't help a note of incredulity that seeps into the last words.

Jones huffs in amused disbelief. Diana's eyes sparkle. Peter recalls that she is an avid fan of science fiction novels and wonders when his life stopped making any sense. He thinks it may be somewhere around the moment Neal Caffrey's file landed on his desk.

There is a faint buzzing sound that grows in intensity as they near the room Neal is presumably locked in. It really does look like some sort of sci-fi energy shield, floor-to-ceiling green light, flickering with sparks of green electricity. There is some sort of panel next to it. Peter casts an amused look at Diana, who is failing miserably at concealing her delight.

"Neal?" he calls out, louder than before, and it echoes from the phone in his hand. There is an excited exclamation, similarly echoed, and the call ends with several beeps. Peter locks the phone and slides it back into his pocket.

"Peter!" Neal's voice comes through the door now, excitement almost covering up the nervousness. "And Jones and Diana! I knew you'd find me. I can always count on my dashing knights in FBI armor to save me."

The jokes are weaker than usual, but Peter is just glad that Neal is joking again, even if it is to mask his anxiety. Judging by Diana's snort and by the relieved set of Jones's shoulders, they share Peter's opinion on the matter.

"With how much trouble you attract, Caffrey, we'll soon have that in our official job description," Diana says drily. She carefully inspects the sleek-looking panel on the wall, thankfully not touching any of the small levers and buttons. "Though this is new. Usually your trouble is about treasure maps and ancient caches of art, not futuristic technology."

Neal laughs weakly.

"Yeah, it's been a while since my space adventurer days."

Diana grins at the banter, but Peter is struck by the note of honesty in Neal's words. He valiantly ignores it for the sake of his sanity — whatever's left of it, at any rate.

"The kidnapping is a familiar ground, at least," Jones notes with a teasing grin. "Good to know that regardless of the genre bad guys stay the same."

Neal's laughter is steadier this time, and Peter judges it safe to return to the problem of shutting off energy shields. Because apparently that's what he does now.

"Neal," he calls, trying for 'tired dad' instead of 'angry handler'. "You said we need to shut these ... shields off." Neal snorts quietly at his inflection. That's a success on the attempt at levity then. "Maybe we could come in through the side? It's probably safer to take the wall apart than to play with unknown circuitry."

"That would be a good idea normally," Neal sounds apologetic, "but the shields cover the walls, ceiling, and floor completely. Trust me, if there was a gap in them, I wouldn't need to be rescued."

Peter is not sure what he means by that, probably some escape artist magic only accessible to the internationally famous conmen, but he focuses on the task at hand.

"Alright, that makes sense. So, turning them off. Can you tell us how to do that? You seem more familiar with the technology." And wasn't that a mind-boggling concept.

"I am ... honestly not sure what he put in there this time. But maybe describe to me what you see, and we can go from there."

Peter ignores Jones quietly muttering 'this time' in disbelief and describes the strange array of levers and buttons. He does his best to explain what the signs next to them are, but Neal gives no indication whether he recognizes the inscriptions and terms. Once Peter is finished, there are several minutes of silence, where they can hear very faint mumbling and pacing, before Neal speaks again.

"So, this is not a model with which I am very familiar..." Neal trails off.

Peter refrains from asking what other models he is familiar with.

"But!" the CI exclaims, a bit too loudly, making Diana flinch a bit in surprise. "I think I know how to get it to work. Or, not work in our case."

"Are you sure it won't blow up on us?" Jones is not one to mince his words, but Peter would like to not have that mental image in his head, thank you very much.

"Nope!" Neal's response is entirely too cheerful. "Well, it won't blow up on you guys, but if something happens, just reverse your actions and it should be fine. Alright? Alright!"

Peter is about to ask why Neal wouldn't be able to advise them if 'something happens' and if it has something to do with the way he emphasized the word 'you' in his response, but the conman doesn't give him time to interject.

"So, Diana. Can you find the rotary switch with 'e.in' next to it? It looks like a round dial, with a lot of numbers on the sides."

Evidently, Neal knows about Diana's inner sci-fi geek. Peter smiles at how quintessentially Neal Caffrey it is of him to make sure his friends are happy even when he is in danger.

"Found it, Caffrey. It's pointing at a 20, on the right side of the dial. Goes up to 50, clockwise. The 0 is on top."

"Ok, good. Turn it upwards, anti-clockwise, very slowly, so that it points at the next number under 20."

The dial turns to '19' with a faint clicking sound and no other indication that anything happened. After a moment, the buzzing of the strange green energy in the background recedes a little, but picks up at a faster rate right next to them. The shields glow brighter, and Neal hisses a little in response. Peter clenches his fists and forces himself to take a calming breath.

"Oh shit, ok. Ok, this is fine, fuck, we got this," Neal's quiet swearing does not help to calm him down. Nor does the tenseness in his voice, like he is clenching his teeth tightly to stifle a louder noise.

"Neal!" he barks. "What's wrong?"

"It's fine, don't worry! The fruitloop just changed his freaking labels, can you believe this?" Neal sounds exasperated, but not panicky, so Peter takes that to mean there is no immediate danger. He forces his fists open and takes a breath.

"Ok, Diana, you are going to need to find the other dial switch, with 'e.out' next to it. Tell me when you have it." Neal's voice is back to 'calm and collected' — the same one he uses when he is teaching Peter how to do a particular con for an op. It does wonders to the tension in his shoulders.

"Found it, boss man," Diana quips. Well, at least one of them is having fun. "It's the same as the other one, but the arrow is pointing at a 30."

"That's good actually. Means we are on the right track," there is definitely a smile in Neal's voice now. Peter can't help grinning a little in response. "Now, same thing as before. Turn it down a bit. One notch at first, then wait a moment just in case. There shouldn't be a big difference at this level with this one, but better safe than sorry."

"Got it."

The click sounds much louder now, almost deafening, even though Peter knows it's just his nerves amplifying the sound. He lets out the breath he's been holding in when the intensity of the shields recedes just a little.

"Ok, good," Neal sounds a little tense again, and Peter has to wonder if the energy walls only act as dividers or if there is any effect on the person surrounded by them.

"You don't sound very 'good' to me, man," apparently Jones has picked up on that as well. "Are you sure this is safe for you?"

Neal is quiet for a moment, probably considering the chances that he can bullshit them in this state, and Peter calls out his name, trying to inject as much of a 'we've talked about you taking better care of yourself so be honest here' warning as he can.

"Okay, okay, I get it," he mutters, barely loud enough to be heard. Peter smiles a little smugly. The battle to get Neal to take his health and safety seriously has been going on since they realized that the conman had absolutely zero self-preservation, and this is another victory on their side.

"Okay," he repeats again. "So, this is part of the whole 'big explanation' thing I mentioned, but it basically has to do with the nature of the energy. I am ... somewhat uniquely susceptible to it, which is why it's able to keep me inside so well." Peter's heart clenches at the explanation, and Diana's face looks stricken. Has he been in pain the whole time?

As if sensing their thoughts, Neal hurries to provide more information. "I'm okay, I swear, it's not painful if I don't touch it. Which I am not doing, so stop worrying."

"It's doing something to you, though, isn't it?" Jones doesn't let up. Neal gives an aggrieved sigh that tugs the corners of Peter's mouth up despite the serious nature of the conversation.

"Sometimes I hate how perceptive you guys are," the CI complains. Jones smirks. "It really is fine, I just, the last time I was, uh... I mean, I haven't been in, I haven't really felt it at this volume in a while, so it's a bit intense."

Peter is really starting to hate the sound of Neal stumbling over his words. It sounds sincere, though, so he tentatively trusts the reassurance, especially since they don't have any other choice in this situation. He hates that, too.

"Okay, Neal. We believe you. I just need you to tell us if that changes. Prioritize your health in this, can you do that?"

"Yeah, Peter, I- yeah. I can do that. It's also why we are going slow with the dials. At this point we can probably just turn it all the way down in one go, but that's probably going to actually hurt. I'm not very excited about that, so-o..."

Thank god Neal is actually thinking of his own safety for once. Peter would be tempted to check the outside for flying pigs if the four of them weren't underground.

"Great, that's great. Good job." It's important to reinforce good behavior with praise, right? That's what El has been telling him for years. Neal snickers, so maybe he didn't do that well this time, but Peter is sure he got the point across at least.

"Okay, yeah. Let's get back to getting me out of here. Diana, you can turn the dial again. Same one, same direction. Go a couple of notches down this time." Peter is about to protest, but Neal talks over him. "Yeah, it's not nice, but being in here is also not that fun. It's like ripping off a band-aid, instead of slowly peeling it. In this case I'd prefer a couple of rips instead of a long day of peeling."

"Your metaphors are terrible," Diana mutters, "but you are the expert here, so we have to trust that you know what you are doing. Don't make me regret it." She scowls fiercely.

"Yeah, okay. Thanks"

Diana gives him a warning, and turns the dial down. Neal grunts in response, but quickly collects himself.

"I'm good, I'm good," he reassures them. "It mostly feels a bit like a strong jacuzzi, only a bit more tingly. Diana, you can go again, just like last time."

She dutifully follows his instructions, and Neal doesn't seem to be getting worse, as long as he gets a moment to breathe. As soon as the number of the second dial dips under the number on the first one, he has Diana start alternating between them, always keeping 'e.out' lower than 'e.in'. If Peter understands the explanation correctly, that means that whatever is coming into the system is less than what is allowed to come out, but for some reason the values cannot be too far apart, or the system is at risk of destabilizing. Not destabilizing the system full of unknown energy that can hurt his friend sounds like a great idea, so he keeps quiet and watches the green glow steadily lose its brightness. The buzzing sound recedes as well.

Finally, after what feels like hours, the glow is gone completely, and the dials both pont at 0. The three of them let out sighs of relief. Peter thinks that he can hear a matching one on the other side of the door.

"What now?" he asks Neal, not sure if it's safe yet. "Is it disabled or do we need to do something else?"

Neal shuffles a bit, and there is a sudden tap against the door, where he must be touching it. He yelps and jumps back, as the wall flickers with green for a second.

"Neal!" Peter's shout echoes in two voices next to him.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, it's just like a bit of static. But that would be the answer to your question, I guess. Can you go through the buttons again? One of them should be for the autostart or something like that."

If Peter comes out of this without gray hair, he's going to call it a miracle.

Diana finds a button that has 'auto-engage' next to it, and Neal has her press it before they can start overthinking the dangers. Nothing happens.

Peter is about to ask, when the door handle turns, and the door opens to a thin crack. There is very faint green light coming from the inside of the room, but when no one shouts in pain and no wall of green appears, Peter lets himself relax, and goes to pull the door all the way open.

He goes still, however, when he encounters resistance, like someone is holding the door back.

"Neal?" he asks tentatively, unsure what the problem is.

AN: Peter is having a bit of a crisis. Don't worry, it will get worse. Neal is also not having fun. Nobody is having a good time here, but I promise they will get at least one hug. Maybe even two. While they are in shock and don't suspect anything.

[lalcentaur]

'We're spending cash on posh streets and cycle lanes, not on dangerous potholes'

'We're spending cash on posh streets and cycle lanes, not on dangerous potholes'

[yggdrassal]

And here's a Banana Peel and an Eel on a Seal Named Neal Balancing on a Wheel while a Cockatiel Eats a Meal with Zeal on a Steel Keel Infront of a Surreal Teal Automobile Containing a Film Reel and Glockenspiel.

As I made the last stroke, I realized I should have put them on a heel, not a hill...

[shortnasties]

2880. The Face of the Wasp

This is called "The Face of the Wasp." Sky through the room.

Before Neal Somers keeled over of a massive coronary in front of me at work, just before it, at my desk, in my usual performance of pretending to work, I was reading about insects. I had, just before the ensuing coronary, crushed a small ant on my desk, it wasn't on purpose, just unthinking, thoughtless. I wondered if I had caused it pain, in its last moments, this ant? It seemed likely. Almost unquestionable. I turned to my computer and typed "Do insects feel pain?" Yes, in fact, pain and joy. I quickly began reading about a species of wasp that recognizes their nest mate's faces. I tried to imagine how to recognize a wasp's face. Perhaps they had different patterns, different shapes? It was hard to know. I looked at the small fleck where the ant had just been. It was then that Neal Somers rose up in his chair, went to raise his arm, and then immediately keeled over, toppling over onto his desk and then the bland-patterned floor. It's been years since I've thought of this. Neal. The coronary. The ant. The face of the wasp. I don't know why but I can't remember Neal's face. I just remember his crumpled body on the bland-patterned floor. I remember the feeling of pushing the ant down on my desk until there was nothing left.

[mcbastardsmausoleum]

Lucky McKee's 'May' & Xavier Gens' Frontier(s) arrive on Limited Edition Blu-ray 7/24 from Second Sights Films

MAY Make a date with May – for an unforgettable, uncomfortable, weird and wild experience. Lucky McKee’s wickedly wry body horror featuring outstanding performances, stunning cinematography and a stellar soundtrack, is back for a new release this July. Second Sight Films has it all sewn up with a brand-new Limited Edition and Standard Edition Blu-ray version, both complete with a fantastic slew of special features. Meet May Dove Candy, the socially awkward veterinary assistant, who was bullied as a child for her lazy eye, and has developed an obsession with perfection. Desperate for connection, May struggles to make friends and is desperately searching for a perfect boyfriend. Then she meets Adam, the boy with the flawless hands… could he be the one? But the path of love never runs smoothly, especially with May’s inability to connect with people. As her dream of perfection unravels, she becomes increasingly detached from reality and descends into the depths of depravity. The brand-new Limited Edition is set for release on July 24 and is presented in a stunning box with new artwork by Bella Grace, alongside a 70 page book, with new essays. Both editions come complete with a host of brilliant extras including new audio commentaries and new interviews with the stars, director, composer and editors and much more, see full details below. Don’t miss May Limited Edition, a devilish delight that’s a cut above the rest.

Special Features:  - New audio commentary with Alexandra Heller-Nicholas - Audio commentary with director Lucky McKee, cinematographer Steve Yedlin, editor Chris Sivertson and actors Angela Bettis, Nichole Hiltz, and Bret Roberts - Audio commentary with director Lucky McKee, Editor Rian Johnson, Composer Jammes Luckett (formerly credited as Jaye Barnes Luckett), production designer Leslie Keel, and Craft Services guy Benji - The Toymaker: a new interview with director Lucky McKee  -Perfect Hands: a new interview with actor Jeremy Sisto - Blankety Blank: a new interview with actor James Duval - How to Execute a Murder: a new interview with cinematographer Steve Yedlin • Peeling Back the Layers: a new interview with editor Rian Johnson - Jack and Jill: a new interview with editor Chris Sivertson - In the Cut: a new interview with editor Kevin Ford - Blood, Gore and Rock ‘n’ Roll: a new interview with composer Jammes Luckett • From Frankenstein to May: Miranda Corcoran on May - Bits and Pieces: on the set of May Limited Edition Contents:   -Rigid slipcase with new artwork by Bella Grace - 70 page book with new essays by Joseph Dwyer, Rachel Knightley, Mary Beth McAndrews and Heather Wixson - Six collectors' art cards

FRONTIER(S) 

Dare you cross Frontier(s)? The shockingly violent and darkly disturbing horror from Xavier Gens(Hitman, Gangs of London)  in his 2007 directorial debut, is set for a brand-new Limited Edition Blu-ray Box set release alongside a Standard Edition version from experts in the field Second Sight Films on July 24 2023. 

Shocking and thrilling audiences and offending (some) critics on its original release, French helmer Gens’ blood-fueled,  brutal feature is set for a stunning new Limited Edition outing. The box set is presented in a rigid slipcase with new artwork  by James Neal and a 70 page book featuring new essays and comes complete with a bucket load of special features. These  will be available on both versions and include: an audio commentary with Zoë Rose Smith and Kelly Gredner, new interviews  with cast and crew, the 'Making of’, a short film and more! Please see full list below. 

It’s a time of severe political unrest in Paris, an extreme right-wing party has come to power and violent protests soon turn  into full scale riots. As the streets burn, a group of young reprobates use the chaos to their advantage, robbing anything  and everything they can. But as they get in too deep, tragedy strikes and with the police on their tail, they’re forced to split  up and flee the city. 

Their situation goes from bad to worse as they end up holed up in a remote countryside guesthouse, where they come face  to face with a strange clan, the Von Geislers – a ruthlessly and violently oppressive father, his fiercely sexual daughters,  and brutish sons – who soon reveal themselves as neo-Nazis. The debauched family’s fantasy of starting a new Aryan race  could soon be realized as Yasmine (Karina Testa, Budapest), could be the key to the fresh bloodline they’ve been waiting  for. Can she and her friends survive the human abattoir, or will she become 'one of the family'? 

Enter the depraved and debauched Frontier(s) for a twisted, stomach-churning, thrilling horror experience. 

Special Features: 

- Audio Commentary with Zoë Rose Smith and Kelly Gredner 

- Reinventing the Extreme: a new interview with director Xavier Gens • Going Method: a new interview with actor Karina Testa 

- A Light in the Dark: a new interview with actor Maud Forget - Lights, Camera... Fear: a new interview with cinematographer Laurent Barès • Sounds of Violence: a new interview with composer Jean-Piere Taïeb • The Making of Frontier(s) 

- Fotografik Short Film 

- Xavier Gens Highschool Trailers 

- Frontier(s) Trailers 

- Storyboard Comparisons 

- Behind-the-Scenes Photos with commentary by Xavier Gens and Karina Testa 

- Deleted Scenes with optional commentary by Xavier Gens and Karina Testa 

Limited Edition Contents: 

- Rigid slipcase with new artwork by James Neal 

 -70 page book with new essays by Dr Sarah Cleary, Mark H Harris, Carolyn Mauricette and  Alexandra West 

- Six collectors' art cards 

[thestageyshelf]

SOLD 🎭 Lucky Stiff @ Union Theatre 2017 (#96)

Title: Lucky Stiff

Venue: Union Theatre

Year: 2017

Condition: Good condition

Author: Book and lyrics by Lynn Ahrens. Music by Stephen Flaherty

Director: Paul Callen

Choreographer: Jamie Neale

Cast: Tom Elliot Reade, Natasha Hoeberigs, Natalie Moore-Williams, Tom Keeling, Jonathan Leinmuller, Ian McCurrach, Lydia Marcazzo, Elizabeth Bright, Beth Clarence, Tom Mann, Blake Patrick Anderson, Daniel Urch

FIND ON EBAY HERE

[sailtoafarawayland]

Always a Pirate

Summary:  What started as a bit of mischievous fun for Emma turns into something more when she pushes her husband - always the gentleman - just a little too far, and finds herself settling the score with a very desperate pirate.

Rated: Explicit 

~ Inspired by one of our lovelies on the discord who requested some sweatpants smut - Enjoy! ~

AO3 - FF

Always a Pirate

“Swan, I can't wear these out of the house. Where are all of my pants?” Killian asked, checking for the pair he'd left folded in the laundry room, his black sweater just meeting the low-slung waistband of his joggers.

“Um, I washed them, but I forgot to start the dryer earlier. They're drying now though,” Emma muttered, tugging on her boots and reaching above her for Killian's jacket.

“Can't we wait until they're dry to go to the store?”

“Nope,” she said, tossing the leather jacket across the entryway and shooting him what she hoped was a charming smile as he snatched it out of the air. “It'll take too long, and we really need to find something for dinner and get it started. You know my parents rarely ever get a night without Neal, and David couldn't stop talking about how much they're looking forward to this. I don't want to ruin it by not having food ready. Besides, what's wrong with wearing your sweatpants?”

“These are for the privacy of our home,” he purred, sidling into her space as he slipped his jacket on, popping his hook through the sleeve. “They don't exactly provide the support and coverage a man like me needs, love.”

“Yeah, that's what those boxer briefs I bought you were for,” Emma deadpanned, ignoring how her eyes wanted to flicker to where he was most definitely not wearing her gift.

“Bloody inconvenience those things,” he muttered, dropping down beside her on the bench and lacing up his boots. “No freedom of movement, and it's only one more layer to take off.”

“Come on,” Emma laughed, very familiar with her pirate's loathing for what he called 'small clothes', “we just need to get the job done. It'll be quick, in and out, no big deal.”  

/

It wasn't until they were parked and heading into the store that Emma realized maybe bringing her husband along in pants like that was a big deal and a bad idea, all rolled into one. The soft drape of the joggers left little to the imagination as he strode in front of her, each step he took framing the firm curve of his ass. She hurried to catch up with him, glancing down to see if – yup, just like he'd said, not enough coverage for a man of his size, especially when he was walking so quickly.

A wicked idea began to form in her mind, the pang of desire between her legs making her think that a little grocery store flirtation would be just what she needed to take her mind off the anxiety of cooking dinner for her mom, a woman who's table settings alone always looked like something out of a magazine.

“Alright, Swan, let's find something to impress your mother, shall we?” Killian called back to her, hooking a cart and swinging it in front of him as he pushed through the main doors, heading straight for the fruits and vegetables, Emma's gaze lingering on the play of his firm cheeks the entire way.

“Yeah,” she sighed, her mind very far from what one did with turnips and which spices went well with salmon, instead focusing on just how she could use those sweatpants to make their shopping a little more interesting.  

She couldn't help herself.

At first it was just small comments, and she couldn't be sure if he was even picking up on her innuendos, as subtle as they were – his face serious as he looked over the display of potatoes. She decided she would have to be a little more blatant if she wanted to get a rise out of him.

“These strawberries look delicious,” she hummed, holding up the package of bright red fruits and eyeing them longingly. She stepped closer to his side, her tongue wetting her lips as he finally met her gaze, sensing she was up to something from her change in tone. “I wonder how they'd taste if you were to dip them in something other than sugar, maybe some cream? Maybe while I'm splayed out in our bed?”

“What are you doing, Swan?” he choked out, shifting on his feet as the potato he was holding dropped back onto the stack and rolled to the floor, coming to rest across the aisle.  

“Just imagining how you might feed it to me after a long night, dragging it along my folds and then – ”

“I'm not sure what your intentions are, love, but I would rethink them,” he growled lowly, maneuvering his hook to push the carton of strawberries back toward the shelf. “These pants are not meant for such thoughts.”

“Maybe that's the point,” she quipped, dropping the fruit and staring longingly at his crotch where she could easily see his hardness growing, the thin material of his sweats stretching upward over its thick outline. “I'd forgotten just how amazing you look in those pants when you're a little hot and bothered.”

“And a public place is where you decided to revisit this – and there's nothing little about me, Swan.”

“Oh, I know, and what can I say, I'm feeling a little adventurous,” she teased, her laugh following him as he ducked quickly around the fruit stand when someone stopped to give a quick hello to the town's sheriff.

He snatched a pineapple from in front of him, balancing it on the edge of the counter in front of his still growing erection, digging his palm into the spiked outer shell and doing his best to think of anything other than the way a strawberry would look, red and glistening, as he dragged it through his release as it dripped from her soft folds, coating the fruit as he rolled it across her lips...

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, willing himself to relax as Emma smiled knowingly over the shoulder of the person she was speaking with.

He'd known these sweatpants had been a terrible mistake.

And so it went through the rest of the store – Emma holding up a large, cured sausage in the deli section, running her finger up and down the wrapping as she measured its worth.  

“It's a little small, don't you think? Probably won't be enough for a cheese plate,” she concluded, leaning past him to put it back before her lips grazed his ear, her words a whisper. “I like my meat a little bigger, but you know that, don't you?”

He'd barely had enough time to seek cover behind the shopping cart before they were accosted once again by another overly friendly local – an elderly woman who waved at Emma and crooned how lovely it was to see a husband helping with the shopping, and pushing the cart as well!

He'd smiled weakly and muttered something about always being a gentleman, though the throbbing hardness between his legs and the way his thoughts were drifting to just how much of a mouthful he wanted to give his wife would indicate otherwise.  

“He's always such a big help,” Emma agreed, thanking the woman for saying hello and urging him on toward the next aisle, clearly thrilled with the game she was playing as she allowed him to find some measure of composure behind the safety of the cart.  

“You know,” she mused, studying a can of something or other, “I really do love those pants, Killian. You should wear them out more often.”

“Don't think I'll be giving you an opportunity like this ever again,” he hissed, his cheeks flushed and hand fisted tightly around the handle of the cart as he stared, jaw clenched, at the rows of canned goods in front of him. “Enjoy it while you can, Swan.”

“Oh, I intend to,” she whispered, ducking and brushing in front of him in the crowded aisle under the ruse of reaching for something on the bottom shelf, her shoulder rubbing brazenly against his crotch, all of his blood pumping once more to his aching cock.

He spun away from her physical nearness with a strangled groan that turned into a snarl of frustration as he knocked over a display of kitchen gadgets, dozens of packages clattering against the floor as the cardboard pyramid keeled to one side.  

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, doing his best to catch the thing with his hook and straighten it while still keeping his hips angled away from the other patrons in the aisle.

“You better be careful where you swing that thing,” Emma chimed in, her face a flawless mask of innocence as she motioned toward his hook, blatantly ignoring the prominent tent in his pants as she knelt and began picking up the small avalanche of peelers and can openers, her lip caught between her teeth as she gazed up to meet hard glare of his eyes, dark promise swimming in their depths.

The frozen food aisle provided some small measure of relief, and although Emma had assured him they didn't need anything from there, he took plenty of time standing in front of the open freezer doors making absolutely certain that was the case, much to her amusement. From there he'd kept his distance, pushing the cart and mentally reciting the words on each sign he saw in an attempt to tune out any new attempts at luring him into further embarrassing situations.

It was hard to avoid her brazen smile once they'd entered the check out lane, but one scowl had been enough to make his Swan back down, if only a trifle, her blatant innuendos disappearing as she made polite conversation with the woman checking them out, flashing him only the occasional look that told just how much she'd enjoyed her impromptu game.  

Her smile faltered a bit when he only returned her gaze with a deep, measured look, and perhaps she thought her was angry with her over her moment of fun. It was a misconception he didn't dispel, loading the groceries into the back seat of the bug silently before returning the cart to its place. Her good humor had shifted to something far more uncertain as he studiously avoided looking at her – good, he wanted her off balance – and it wasn't until she felt the hard steel of his hook around her wrist that she realized just exactly what she'd done.

He wasn't angry, not at all, but he was a man driven to the edge, and now she was going to bloody well see to it that some of those naughty things she's intimated came to pass.

“We're not going anywhere just yet, Swan,” he rasped, the tip of his hook grazing along her leather jacket until it slipped through the key ring she held in her hand, pulling them out of her grasp. “You put on quite the brazen display in there. Did you enjoy that, love? Making me swell with my need for you where anyone could have seen? Did you enjoy making me desperate?”

“Well, it was fun,” she admitted, “seeing you so ready for me even though we were surrounded by people, and once my parents head out for the– ”

“What you've forgotten, darling, is that desperate men will go to any lengths to get what they want,” he reminded her,  shoving the keys into his jacket and grabbing her hand, leading her firmly away from the bug.  

“Killian,” she hissed in disbelief, stumbling slightly as he dragged her toward the alley that ran between the grocery store and the next building. “The groceries! What are you doing?”

“The groceries can wait – and I think you know exactly what I'm doing, Swan.”

“We are not having sex in there,” she groaned, the words contradicting the tightening in her core as she thought about him taking her up against the shadowed brick wall, mere feet away from where people were walking to their cars.

“Aye, we are not having sex, but it's about time I put that traitorous little mouth of yours to good use.”

“Oh my god, Killian – ” she shot a nervous glance behind her as they entered the alley, no one in sight as her husband pulled her behind an empty stack of pallets where they would be concealed from anyone walking by. “We can't just – ”

“If you believe for even an instant that I'm heading back home, to sit with your bloody parents for dinner after your little game – no relief in sight as they natter on – then you've forgotten who I was before I met you...”

“A pirate,” she swallowed – she hadn't forgotten, had enjoyed teasing that part of him back to the surface – her breath leaving her as he pressed her firmly against the brick wall, his hand running along the edge of her breast before stopping to cup her cheek, eyes dark and wild.

“Aye, and pirates take what they want.”

“Well,” she teased, the uncertainty in her voice washed away by the tide of desire spreading beneath her skin as his thumb grazed over her lower lip, “it has been a while since the Captain has come to play.”

“Oh, he's never far, Swan,” Killian purred, forcing her mouth open with his finger and sampling her wet heat with the pad of his thumb. “Now, get on your knees for the Captain.”

Emma was pretty sure she'd never been so wet in her life, her leather jacket scraping along the gritty bricks as she sunk to her knees on the cold ground, Killian's stance wide and demanding as she knelt between his legs, her cheek brushing against the soft material of the sweats he hadn't wanted to wear – the ones that did nothing to hide the massive tent he was sporting, her nose grazing along its length as she nuzzled into him, inhaling deeply.

“You're not here to enjoy yourself, love,” he smirked darkly above her, “you're here to get the job done.”

She swallowed heavily, tongue and teeth worrying her lip as she looped her fingers into the waistband of his pants and yanked them down, his heavy shaft bobbing against her as she chased after it with her mouth – his head swollen and dark, glazed with a hint of precum that hit her taste buds like the most delicious reward. If this was what she got from teasing her husband – she would gladly repeat the performance.

He groaned above her, his hand fisted among her locks as he allowed her a brief moment to explore, her tongue flattened against the underside of his cock while she swallowed him down, gagging slightly as he hit the back of her throat. His member was only half inside the wet grasp of her mouth before she pulled back, curling her tongue around his shaft and licking at his weeping slit – but it wasn't what he wanted.

“No, no, no, Swan,” Killian chided, his grip on her tightening as he twisted her hair, forcing her to look up at him. “I know you can do better than that, love – I've watched myself disappear entirely into that tight throat of yours on many an occasion. Let's make certain to put in our best work, shall we?”

Need pulsed between Emma's legs, nearly forcing her to double over in an attempt to relieve it, but somehow she managed to nod her understanding as his fingers tugged against her scalp, wetting her lips and opening her mouth wide as she dived forward once more, abandoning her teasing in favor of getting him fully inside of her as quickly as possible, her throat finally opening as she calmed her breathing and swallowed around him, feeling his swollen head push deeper as she inhaled through her nose, her breath muffled by the thatch of dark curls at his base.

“Just like that, Swan – I'm going to fill up that naughty little mouth of yours. Do you have any idea how much I wanted to bend you over the bloody bread display and fill that needy cunt?” he hissed, thrusting languidly into her throat as her eyes sought him from beneath her lashes, blown with desire, “my hand over your mouth as I took what I needed, your legs shaking around me as I painted your sweet, pink folds with my release?”

His words stoked the fire in her belly, the scrap of lace she was wearing slick and wet with her arousal as she imagined him taking her in just such a way, everyone seeing the dark, demanding man he truly was – the pirate always waiting just beneath the mask of the gentleman. The alley filled with the soft rumble of his grunts as his steel grip controlled her movements, using her mouth just as he'd promised he would, like nothing more than a  wet hole to be filled, a thing for his pleasure, not for hers.

“Do you like this, Emma? Is that why you played your little game in there, because you wanted me to use you like a whore in the back alley? Were you hoping I would fuck you, raise your hips around my own and slide into your dripping cunt?”

She writhed in his grip, his filthy words rolling over her like an actual touch, her core throbbing and clenching around its emptiness as he reamed her mouth, saliva dripping from the corners of her lips as he thrust powerfully into her, her nose butting against his stomach as he panted and moaned.

“Don't think you'll be getting it once we're at home either, love,” he growled, his deep strokes within her throat becoming erratic as his cock swelled, his release coiled and ready as his balls tightened against her chin, warning her. “I want you squirming in your seat all through dinner, your greedy quim swollen and dripping for me – remembering the taste of me right here, pressed against a dirty building, wondering if it's the...if it's the only taste you'll get...”

Emma arched her neck as he pushed deeply one last time, her throat burning as his cock thickened and erupted deeply inside of her, her muscles rippling around him as she swallowed desperately, relieved when he dragged himself half free, the pulsing head of him resting on her tongue as he shot several more ropes of hot come into her mouth, rolling forward and spreading the salty, sweet taste of himself as far as he could, a thin trickle of his release painting the corner of her mouth as she breathed and swallowed around his softening flesh, her tongue curling around his shaft, enjoying the way he softened and twitched inside of her.

His grip finally loosened in her hair, his fingers gently massaging her scalp where the sting of his dominance was just beginning to burn, stroking her gently until she sighed and let his length slip from her mouth, her head falling forward to rest against his thigh.

“There's a good girl,” he purred, hooking the waistband of his sweats and dragging them back up to cover himself as he lifted her back to her feet. “Come on then, we've a lovely dinner to prepare for your parents – and then once they're gone, maybe I'll let you have your dessert.”  

/

“That salmon was delicious, Killian,” Mary Margaret gushed, leaning back in the chair and resting her hand against her chest. “I'm better with non-seafood dishes, so it was lovely to have something different for a change – and after the week we had, it was so nice to have a night off from cooking entirely.”

“I agree – fantastic meal, Hook. Thanks for having us over tonight, it was nice to get an evening for just the four of us,” David added, rising to bring his plate to the sink.  

“I'm pleased you both enjoyed it,” Killian returned politely. “We didn't often get salmon aboard the Jolly, so it's not something I make often – Emma and I had quite the experience at the grocery store trying to find everything we needed, but the outcome was quite worth it, I think.”

“Dad, sit. I got it,” Emma managed to choke out, shooting just the most recent of many dirty looks over her parents' heads at her husband. She gently pushed David back into the chair and took his plate, snatching Killian's as well and dumping them into the sink.

“You're a little hoarse, you sound like you could use some tea, Emma,” Mary Margaret worried, swiveling in her seat to look at her daughter. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Just a little bit of a sore throat, that's all,” she smiled, looking anywhere but at her husband's grin as she rinsed her hands and dried them off.

“That came on fast,” David mused. “You sounded fine this morning at the station. I hope you didn't pick it up from us, Neal had a bit of a rough week and we were wondering if he might be a little sick.”

“Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, mate – it doesn't seem to be contagious. I've no signs of it myself,” Hook assured them both, smiling warmly and gesturing toward the dessert Emma was carrying over from the counter. “Can we tempt you with some dessert? It's fresh baked from town.”

“Oh, what kind is that?” Snow beamed, admiring the flaky, golden crust as Emma rested the pie on the table and moved to grab plates – anything to avoid looking her parents in the face. “It's always so nice to enjoy something you didn't have to bake yourself.”

“Peach pie,” Killian smiled widely, his eyes flashing to Emma as he ran his tongue across his teeth, “it just so happens to be my favorite, and I think Emma even whipped up some fresh cream to go on top, didn't you, Swan?”

Thankfully, no one other than Killian noticed as she nearly dropped the stack of plates, her body tensing and eyes widening as she silently begged him not to say anything else – her thoughts already far too consumed with how wet and empty she'd felt since their illicit moment in the alley. Taking a deep breath, she reclaimed her composure, tenuous though it was, and returned to the table.

“I did,” she admitted, laying out the plates and frowning when Hook stilled her hand with his own, pushing away the plate she was offering him.

“None for me, love – I find I'm feeling quite full. Perhaps I'll enjoy mine later, you'll just have to make sure you save some of that cream for me.”

END

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[mysticalhearth]

K

The King and I - Brazil - 2010 (Pro-Shot's master) FORMAT:  MP4 (HD) CAST: Tuca Andrada (Rei), Cláudia Netto (Anna Leonowens), Luciana Bueno (Lady Thiang), Bianca Tadini (Tumptim) The King and I - North Shore Music Theatre - September-October, 2011 (Pro-Shot's master) FORMAT:  VOB (with smalls) (SD) CAST: Kate Fisher (Anna Leonowens), Lorenzo Lamas (King of Siam), Lisa Yuen (Lady Thiang), Manna Nichols (Tuptim), Joshua Dela Cruz (Lun Tha), Ron Wisniski (Sir Edward Ramsey) NOTES: Proshot. Performed in the round, one camera on a tripod and sound patched in from the soundboard. The King and I - West End Revival - November 29, 2018 (Pro-Shot's master) FORMAT:  MP4 (HD) CAST: Kelli O’Hara (Anna Leonowens), Ken Watanabe (King of Siam), Ruthie Ann Miles (Lady Thiang), Na-Young Jeon (Tuptim), Dean John-Wilson (Lun Tha), Edward Baker-Duly (Sir Edward Ramsey), Jon Chew (Prince Chulalongkorn), Edward Baker-Duly (Captain Orton), Billy Marlow (Louis Leonowens), Takao Osawa (Kralahome), William Michael Lee (Phra Alack) NOTES: Ruthie uses a walking stick throughout to aid her recovery from a previous car accident and loss of her two children. She gives an amazing performance. King Kong - Broadway - August 10, 2019 FORMAT:  MP4 (HD) CAST: Christiani Pitts (Ann Darrow), Eric William Morris (Carl Denham), Erik Lochtefeld (Lumpy) NOTES: The full show, recorded from the rear orchestra on a phone. Most of the video is the August 10th recording but occasionally some promotional footage and the February 9th video are edited in to provide other views. The recording starts off with a lot of wandering, shakiness, and washout but gets better somewhat better as it goes on. Still not as good as an actual video filmed with a camera, but it exists. 1920x1080p, 4.29 GB. King Kong - Broadway - October, 2018 (Preview) (House-Cam's master) FORMAT:  MP4 (SD) CAST: Christiani Pitts (Ann Darrow), Eric William Morris (Carl Denham), Erik Lochtefeld (Lumpy), Harley Jay (Barman), Rory Donovan (Captain Engelhorn/Chief of Police), Jon Hoche (Voice of Kong) NOTES: Full stage shot with clear audio direct from soundboard. Kinky Boots - Broadway - March 15, 2013 (Preview) (Lanelle's master) FORMAT:  VOB (with smalls) (SD) CAST: Stark Sands (Charlie Price), Billy Porter (Lola), Annaleigh Ashford (Lauren), Celina Carvajal (Nicola), Daniel Stewart Sherman (Don), Marcus Neville (George), Jonah Halperin (s/b Young Charlie), Marquise Neal (Young Lola) NOTES: Fun show with a pertinent (but not obtrusive) message, Billy Porter is just amazing. This is somewhat more obstructed than other shows because the person in front was leaning forward and moving a lot, so there's a head in some of the scenes. Some shakiness and wandering in between, particularly at the beginning, but otherwise a good video with nice closeups. Complete show including curtain call. A- Kinky Boots - Broadway - July 17, 2018 (NYCG8R's master) FORMAT:  VOB (with smalls) (SD) CAST: David Cook (Charlie Price), Stephane Duret (s/b Lola), Carrie St Louis (Lauren), Caroline Bowman (Nicola), Daniel Stewart Sherman (Don), Marcus Neville (George), Corey Mach (Harry), Eugene Barry-Hill (Simon Sr.), Stephen Berger (Mr. Price), Adinah Alexander (Milan Stage Manager), Cooper Lantz (Young Charlie), Jesús Del Orden (Young Lola) NOTES: Quite a few latecomers that walk in front but nothing too distracting; otherwise very well filmed HD video with clear picture and sound throughout; great video A Kinky Boots - Broadway - May-August, 2017 FORMAT:  MP4 (HD) CAST: Brendon Urie (Charlie Price), J Harrison Ghee (Lola), Taylor Louderman (Lauren) NOTES: Starts at Sex is in the Heel Kinky Boots - First National Tour - April 17, 2016 (SJ Bernly's master) FORMAT:  VOB (with smalls) (SD) CAST: Adam Kaplan (Charlie Price), J Harrison Ghee (Lola), Tiffany Engen (Lauren), Charissa Hogeland (Nicola), Aaron Walpole (Don), Jim J Bullock (George), Josh Tolle (Harry), Shawna M Hamic (Trish), Horace V Rogers (Simon Sr.), Tom Souhrada (Mr. Price), Zach Adkins (Richard Bailey), Patty Lohr (Pat), Annie Edgerton (Milan Stage Manager), Aidan Passaro (Young Charlie), Jomil Elijah Robinson (Young Lola) Kinky Boots - Netherlands Tour - October 27, 2019 FORMAT:  MOV (HD) CAST: Jonathan Demoor (Charlie Price), Naidjim Severina (Lola), Vajèn van den Bosch (Lauren), Linda Verstraten (Nicola), Dennis Willekens (Don), Paul Donkers (George), Jeroen Phaff (Mr. Price) Kinky Boots - Pre-Broadway/Chicago - November 4, 2012 (Closing Night) (SunsetBlvd79's master) FORMAT:  MP4 (HD) CAST: Stark Sands (Charlie Price), Billy Porter (Lola), Annaleigh Ashford (Lauren), Celina Carvajal (Nicola), Daniel Stewart Sherman (Don), Marcus Neville (George), Andy Kelso (Harry), Jennifer Perry (Trish), Tory Ross (Pat) NOTES: Another beautiful HD capture of the last performance in Chicago before Broadway, where it would go on to win the 2013 Tony. This performance has many changes from the other Chicago Dvd of the first performance. Includes the new song written towards the end of the Chicago run and many line changes. Also includes curtain speech by Stark! A+   Kinky Boots - UK Tour - December 26, 2018 (Matinee) (shoeroom's master) FORMAT:  MOV (HD) CAST: Joshua St Clair (u/s Charlie Price), Kayi Ushe (Lola), Paula Lane (Lauren), Helen Ternent (Nicola), Demitri Lampra (Don), Adam Price (George), Daniel Conway (u/s Harry), Niki Evans (Trish), Fred Smiley (Simon Sr.), Andy Watkins (Mr. Price), George Grayson (u/s Richard Bailey), Lizzie Bea (Pat), Mary Fox (Maggie), Shaun Dalton (Hooch), Alfie Parker (Mutt), Portia Harry (Gemma Louise), Scarlet Gabriel (Milan Stage Manager), John Dempsey (Referee), Connor Collins (Angel #1), Toyan Thomas-Brown (Angel #2), John Dempsey (Angel #3), Chileshé Mondelle (Angel #4), Joshua Lovell (Angel #5), Damon Gould (Angel #6) Kinky Boots - UK Tour - September, 2018 (hitmewithyourbethshot's master) FORMAT:  MP4 (HD) CAST: Joel Harper-Jackson (Charlie Price), Callum Francis (Lola), Paula Lane (Lauren), Helen Ternent (Nicola), Demitri Lampra (Don), Adam Price (George), Joshua St Clair (Harry), Niki Evans (Trish), Fred Smiley (Simon Sr.), Andy Watkins (Mr. Price), Daniel Conway (Richard Bailey), Lizzie Bea (Pat), Scarlet Gabriel (Milan Stage Manager), Connor Collins (Angel #1), John Dempsey (Angel #2), Damon Gould (Angel #3), Joshua Lovell (Angel #4), Chileshé Mondelle (Angel #5), Toyan Thomas-Brown (Angel #6) Kinky Boots - West End - November 27, 2018 (Pro-Shot's master) FORMAT:  MP4 (HD) CAST: Killian Donnelly (Charlie Price), Matt Henry (Lola), Natalie McQueen (Lauren), Cordelia Farnworth (Nicola), Sean Needham (Don), Antony Reed (George), Jordan Fox (Harry), Anna Stolli (Trish), Robert Grose (Simon Sr.), Graham Kent (Mr. Price), Jonathan Carlton (Richard Bailey), Rosie Glossop (Pat), Emma Odell (Milan Stage Manager), Charlie Underhill (Young Charlie), Temba Mliswa (Young Lola), Jak Allen-Anderson (Angel #1), Jed Berry (Angel #2), Louis Clarke-Clare (Angel #3), Daniel Downing (Angel #4), Jemal Felix (Angel #5), Jon Reynolds (Angel #6), Abbey Addams, Ben Jennings, Ben Larcombe, Christopher Parkinson, David Haydn, Fred Wilcox, Hannah Price, Jude Muir, Kayleb Rene-gray, Keith Higham, Momar Diagne, Olivia Winterflood, Rio Lewis, Robert Jones, Samson Wakayu, Suzie McAdam, Tom Scanlon NOTES: Pro-shot. Filmed live on stage at the Adelphi Theatre (London, England) and distributed commercially. Kiss Me, Kate - British Television Production - April 21, 1964 FORMAT:  VOB (with smalls) (SD) CAST: Patricia Morison (Lilli Vanessi / Katharine), Howard Keel (Fred Graham / Petruchio), Isabelle Lucas (Hattie), Millicent Martin (Lois Lane / Bianca), Irving Davies (Bill Calhoun / Lucentio), Eric Barker (Harrison Howell), Danny Green (Gangster / First Man), Bill Owen (Gangster / Second Man) NOTES: This version was rewritten and abbreviated to fit within its 95-minute time slot. A little on the dark side, in black and white with a slight blue tinge, has producer’s counter numbers hard-coded on the screen in the upper third. This version of the show was produced for the launch of a new station in the UK. After months of preparing the launch of the new television station—with it’s brand-new 625 line resolution (until then UK TV’s had a resolution of 405 lines)—the night turned out to be a disaster. 50 minutes before the launch, a fire broke out at a local power station, cutting power to most of London but not the television station. They started the evening’s news show which was to be followed by this broadcast, but it soon became clear that there was no audience, and after a few minutes, the schedule was abandoned. The production was instead shown the next day. The date that’s superimposed on the video is April 20, 1964—the originally scheduled night. It is unclear if this is a fi Kiss Me, Kate - Third Broadway Revival - March, 2019 (NYCG8R's master) FORMAT:  VOB (with smalls) (SD) CAST: Kelli O’Hara (Lilli Vanessi / Katharine), Will Chase (Fred Graham / Petruchio), Adrienne Walker (Hattie), James T Lane (Paul), Stephanie Styles (Lois Lane / Bianca), Corbin Bleu (Bill Calhoun / Lucentio), Mel Johnson Jr (Harry Trevor / Baptista), Terence Archie (Harrison Howell), John Pankow (Gangster / First Man), Lance Coadie Williams (Gangster / Second Man) Kruimeltje de musical - The Netherlands - 2012 (Pro-Shot's master) FORMAT:  MP4 (HD) CAST: Joes Brauers (Kruimeltje)

[apparentlynotreallyfinnish]

Prompt: Rhett comforting Link when he cries during a sad movie.

Fluff is so hard for me… You should’ve sent this to @sass-and-panache instead. She would have given you something great. But I tried. I hope it suffices.

—

By all accounts it had been a great night. They’d celebrated the last leg of their tour ending with a nice dinner and an expensive bottle of wine. Link hadn’t been in any hurry to get home so they picked a random movie to rent. Rhett had made them some kettle corn and made Link repeatedly roll his eyes at his passionate explanation of how much better it was compared to microwaved popcorn.

They sat side by side on Rhett’s plush sectional couch, sharing a blanket even though it wasn’t that cold. The popcorn bowl was nestled between their thighs and they kept reaching for it at the same time making their fingers brush together igniting sparks all over Rhett’s body. He eventually had to stop it because Link sighed and frowned at him after yet another purposefully accidental grace.

Rhett lost interest in the movie pretty early on and was instead distracted by the way Link’s delicate fingers picked up popcorn one by one and brought them to his parted lips. His lips quickly gathered a shiny film of oil and tiny crystals of salt; in the artificial light of the movie he looked wholly otherworldly. Rhett tried not to stare, but it was beginning to be impossible.

As much as Rhett was staring it still took him a while to notice that Link was crying. It only dawned on him when one tear rolled down to the corner of Link’s mouth and he quickly licked it away. Rhett’s gaze whipped to Link’s eyes which were glistening with tears.

“Link?” Rhett asked quietly.

Link turned away from Rhett. He managed to catch the embarrassed expression on Link’s face before he hid it from Rhett’s worried scrutiny. Link sniffled quietly and Rhett’s hand reflexively landed on Link thigh and squeezed.

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Link mumbled and wiped his nose onto his sleeve. “Ignore me. I’m just tired.”

“Link, please. Tell me. Is it the movie?”

Rhett turned to look at the screen. He had no idea what was happening or if it could be tear-inducing. Link’s shoulders were shaking and he kept gasping for air.

“Oh gosh, bo! C’mere,” Rhett pleaded offering his opened arms for Link, but he just shook his head vigorously.

“Just let me be. This is ridiculous.” Link’s voice was muffled by the blanket which he’d drawn up to his face to hide his tears.

Rhett picked up the bowl and moved it away. Then he shimmied himself closer to Link and awkwardly pulled him into his arms. Link fought the closeness for a moment but then he seemingly just gave up, turned his upper body and launched against Rhett. Link’s face was pressed against Rhett’s chest and he held onto his shirt with tight trembling fists. Rhett pet his back slowly and whispered hushed, meaningless words with his lips pressed against Link’s hair. Link shook in his arms and Rhett felt his shirt getting wet from his tears.

“You wanna tell me what caused this?” Rhett asked when Link seemed to be calming down a bit. Link’s fingers slowly let go of Rhett’s shirt and he drew a long shaky breath.

“It’s just so sad… He – “ Link’s sentence was cut short by a little hiccup that made Rhett’s heart melt and made him to hold onto Link more tightly.

“He lost him. He just left and I – I just started thinking about… No, I – I’m sorry. It’s stupid,” Link muttered into Rhett’s chest.

Rhett moved his arms and with some gentle nudging managed to get his hand under Link’s jaw. Link’s face rose up and their eyes met. He was a beautiful mess with a snotty nose and bloodshot eyes.

Still gorgeous. Always gorgeous.

“It’s not stupid if it affected you like this. Please, tell me,” Rhett pleaded. His heart was aching for his best friend. What on earth could have made him lose it like that?

Link’s hand rose slowly and settled onto Rhett’s cheek, fingers tangling into his overgrown beard. Rhett swallowed hard and tried not to show how flustered Link’s move made him.

“I just started thinking about you – leaving me,” Link whispered. His words came out unsteady and weak and after he’d managed to get them out he bit his lip and fought down another sob that wracked his body. Rhett stared at him, eyes wide, searching for some kind of sign that he hadn’t heard correctly.

“I would never leave you. You hear me? This is it for me. Us. Don’t you know already? You’re my whole dang life, Link Neal.”

Link’s teeth released his lip and he whispered: “Not even if I do this?”

And then Rhett tasted more than just the salt on his lips. He tasted Link. The kiss was soft and hard at the same time; it was a punch to Rhett’s gut and soft breeze that threatened to keel him over. The kiss was a delicate thing and Rhett wanted to live in it for the rest of his life, but too soon, Link backed away.

Rhett stared at him with fluttering eyelids and with his mouth opening and closing. He knew it was his time to say something, but he was completely frozen. Link tilted his head to the side and took in Rhett’s expression. His form visibly deflated.

“I’m sorry,” Link muttered and his body slid away from Rhett’s embrace. “I shouldn’t have…”

Rhett caught his wrist at the last possible moment as he was getting up from the couch. He pulled Link back to his arms and launched into another kiss, deeper this time; a kiss of exploration and promise. He could feel Link’s smile against his lips and then the salty taste of popcorn was mixed with the taste of his own tears.

They eventually parted to catch a breath, forehead pressed together, as if moving any further from each other would be painful to bear.

“Never, and I mean never, apologize for kissing me,” Rhett sighed.

“Okay,” Link whispered. “I take it back. But only if you take me – to your bed.”

 By all accounts it was a great night.

[ao3feed-rhink]

Cherry Popping

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2XkFvn3

by LinksLipsSinkShips

Rhett's obsessed with Cherry Garcia ice cream, and Link's disinterest makes Rhett want to pop his Cherry (Garcia, anyway). But Link's eating habits lead Rhett into more problems than he's expecting.

Words: 3964, Chapters: 1/1, Language: eesti keel

Series: Part 9 of Food Porn

Fandoms: Rhett & Link

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Rhett McLaughlin, Link Neal, Ben and Jerry (Kind of)

Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal, Rhett McLaughlin/A Pint of Cherry Garcia, Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal/A Pint of Cherry Garcia

Additional Tags: Ice Cream, Surprise Kink, Food, Food Play, Food Kink, Feeding Kink, Except only kind of, College, oh my god they were roommates, Kind of a Slow Burn for a One-Shot

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2XkFvn3

[the-record-obituaries]

Jan. 29, 2020: Obituaries

Frances Gay, 99

Mrs. Frances Allie Curtis Brendle Gay, age 99 of North Wilkesboro, passed away Sunday, January 26, 2020, at Rose Glen Manor in North Wilkesboro.

Funeral services will be held 2:00 PM, Thursday, January 30, 2020 in the fellowship hall of Pleasant Grove Baptist Church with Rev. Brady Hayworth and Rev. Phil Chapman officiating. The family will receive friends from 12:30 until 1:30 prior to the service in the fellowship hall. Burial will be in the church cemetery.

Mrs. Gay was born January 17, 1921 in Wilkes County to Joel Curtis and Grace Viola Parsons Curtis. She retired from Wilkes Hosiery and was a member of Pleasant Grove Baptist Church. Frances lived served and honored the Lord her family and her community until God called her home at the age of 99.She was a second mother to her brothers and sisters and had a work ethic to provide. Frances read the Bible through 30+ times and was a former Sunday school teacher at Pleasant Grove Baptist Church.

       She loved her care from her Home and family at Rose Glen Manor. She was known for her quick sense of humor and her strong independence. Frances loved spending time with her family and working crossword puzzles. She was loved by all who knew her and will be dearly missed.

       In addition to her parents, she was preceded in death by her first husband; Ed Brendle and second husband; Lathian W. Gay, a sister; Grace Vaught, two brother; Junior Curtis and Edwin Curtis and a brother in law; Fred Ferguson.

       She is survived by a sister; Helen Ferguson of Millers Creek and two brothers; Basil Walker and wife Gail of Hilton Head Island, SC and Bobby Walker and wife JoAnn of Wilkesboro, two sister in laws; Maxie Curtis of Millers Creek and Lou Curtis of Elkton, FL, a stepson; David Brendle and wife Frances of Greensboro and many nieces and nephews.

       Flowers will be accepted or memorials may be made to Mtn. Valley Hospice 401 Technology Lane Suite 200 Mt. Airy, NC 27030 or Rose Glen Manor 240 South Independence Ave. North Wilkesboro, NC 28659.

 Denise Eller,  63

Denise Eller, age 63, of Wilkesboro, passed away Friday, January 24, 2020 at Wake Forest Baptist Health-Wilkes Regional. Denise was born February 7, 1956 in Wilkes County to George H. Eller, Jr. and Oma Jean Mitchell Eller.                                                She was a member of Bethel Baptist Church. Denise loved to attend all the youth sports teams, attending all the games she was able. She was a big North High Vikings and a Carolina Tarheels basketball fan. Denise loved her cats and had a special love for all cats. Ms. Eller was preceded in death by her parents.

Surviving are her Aunt, Dare Cothren of Thomasville; Lots of Cousins; life-long friend, Pam Rhoades of North Wilkesboro; and her loving cat, Tempe.

       Funeral service was January 28,  at Bethel Baptist Church with Pastor Donnie Shumate officiating and eulogy by Randy Rhoades. Burial  followed in Mountlawn Memorial Park.  Flowers will be accepted or memorials may be made to Bethel Baptist Church, PO Box 679, Hays, NC 28635. Miller Funeral Service is in charge of the arrangements.

       Pallbearers were Seth Rhoades, Mark Anderson, Neal Anderson, Joseph Edmiston, Kenneth Ireland and Joe Reeves. Honorary pallbearers will be Christopher Edmiston, Will Rhoades and Levi Rhoades.

  Gladys Gilbert,  94

Mrs. Gladys Wilma Greer Gilbert, age 94 of Wilkesboro, widow of Bobby Gilbert, died Friday, January 24, 2020 at Wake Forest Baptist Health - Wilkes Medical Center.

       Funeral services was January 27, at Reins-Sturdivant Chapel with Rev. Sherrill Wellborn officiating.  Burial was in the Full Gospel Mission Church Cemetery.  

       Mrs. Gilbert was born March 1, 1925 in Watauga County to Albert and Rebecca Carlton Greer.  

       Mrs. Gilbert was preceded in death by her parents; her husband, Bobby Gilbert; seven sisters, Edna Hampton, Maggie Clawson, Lily Triplett, Ora Watson, Bernice Cox, Ruth Miller, and Melba Hayes; and four brothers, Virgil Greer, Sherman Greer, Vaughn Greer, and Bynum Greer.

       She is survived by her daughter, Betty Greene Keels and husband, Edward, of Wilkesboro; her son, Bill Greene and wife, Christine, of Wilkesboro; her four grandchildren, Debbie Blevins, Sandra Mastin, Lisa Austin, and Scott Keels; six great-grandchildren, Richard Shew, Zack Blevins, Patrick Blevins, Kayla Bennett, Chris Mastin, and Natasha Brown; and five great-great-grandchildren, Aliza Blevins, Forest Mastin, Finley Mastin, Tyler Brown, and Tristan Blevins.

       Flowers will be accepted.

 Ransome Patrick, Jr. 64

Mr. Ransome Joe Patrick, Jr. age 64 of Hamptonville, passed away Thursday, January 23, 2020 at his home.

       Funeral services were  January 25, at Reins Sturdivant Chapel with Rev. Matthew Vannoy and Rev. Justin Norman officiating. Burial was in the Patrick Family Cemetery.                                    Mr. Patrick was born June 1, 1955 in Wilkes County to Ransome Joe Patrick, Sr. and Oma Kathleen Smithey. He was the Vice President of Operations for Spevco, Inc. and a member of Welcome Home Baptist Church.

       He was preceded in death by his parents and an infant brother; Charles Patrick.

       Mr. Patrick is survived by a son; Sherman Joe Patrick and wife Nikki of North Wilkesboro, a daughter; Brandi Patrick and husband Freddie of Wilkesboro, six grandchildren; Taylor South and wife Emily, Garrett Patrick, Russell Patrick, Caydan South, Brody Patrick and Kaison Patrick, a great grandchild; Ransome Joe South, a sister; Kay Patrick Ashley and a brother; Scott Patrick and wife Jennifer of Clemmons and his devoted and loving girlfriend; Annie Lee Pierce of Jonesville.

       Flowers will be accepted or memorials may be made to Race Against Cancer c/o Diane Roberts 8167 Mertie Road Millers Creek, NC 28651.

 Robert Vaught, 85

Mr. Robert James Vaught, age 85 of North Wilkesboro, passed away Wednesday, January 22, 2020 at his home.

       Graveside services with Military Honors by the United States Army and Veterans of Foreign Wars was January 25,  at Mountlawn Memorial Park with United States Army Chaplin officiating.

       Mr. Vaught was born February 9, 1934 in Rural Retreat Virginia. He was retired from the United States Army after serving 20 years as a Platoon Tank Sargent during the Korean and Vietnam Conflicts. Mr. Vaught was an active member of the NRA and the VFW Post 1142 and retired teamster's long haul truck driver.

       In addition to his parents, he was preceded in death by his wife; Johnnie Culler Vaught and a sister; JoAnn Bess.

       He is survived by a daughter; Regina Dawn

Vaught of Traphill, a son; John Ernest Vaught of North Wilkesboro, three grandchildren; Joanie Summer Vaught, Taylor Dawn Wiles and Johanna Hope Alexander, a great grandchild: Bailey Beatrice Wilson, a brother; Charlie Vaught of Georgia, a brother in law; Harry C. Steele of Winston Salem and several nieces and nephews.

       Flowers will be accepted or memorials may be made to Disabled Veterans 1601  Brenner Ave Salisbury, NC 28144 or NRA 11250 Waples Mill Road Fairfax, VA 22030.

 Henry Blunt, 64

Henry "Petie" Carroll Blunt, age 64, of Millers Creek, passed away peacefully Tuesday, January 21, 2020. He was born February 2, 1955 in Richmond, Virginia to Ashby Fernando and Ruby Gladys Mann Blunt. He was preceded in death by his parents.

       Surviving are his siblings, Lorraine Smith of North Wilkesboro, Cecil Blunt of Millers Creek, Shirley Prescott and spouse Bill of Newport News, Virginia, Gladys Church of Millers Creek; many special nieces, nephews, great nieces and nephews; two great great nephews; aunts and cousins.

       Graveside service was January 24,  at Mountlawn Memorial Park. Miller Funeral Service is in charge of the arrangements.  

 Kristie Young,  64

Mrs. Kristie Lee Young, age 64 of Wilkesboro passed away Tuesday, January 21, 2020 at Atrium Health in Charlotte.

       Memorial services will be held 1:00 PM Saturday, February 1, 2020 at Reins-Sturdivant Chapel with Pastor Roger Hull officiating.  

       Mrs. Young was born February 12, 1955 in Davenport, IA to Evett Jerome and Shirley Mae Shoemaker.

       In addition to her parents she was preceded by a sister; Gayle Davisson.

       She is survived by her husband; Desmond Alan Young of the home, two sons; Derek Thomas Outlaw of Mission Viejo, CA and Douglas Neal Outlaw of San Antonio, TX, two step-daughters; Nicola Jayne Alexander and husband Steven of Wilkesboro and Adele Louise Wilson and husband Russell of San Diego, CA, six grandchildren; Scot Jackson and wife Kristen, Cody Jackson, Aaron Shaver, Laurel Angeline Wilson and Jacob Wilson and Serenity Mae Alexander, one great grandchild; Leighton Jackson and one brother, Bradley Shoemaker and wife Elaina of Cedar Rapids, IA.

 Kyle Bumgarner, 77

Mr. Kyle Gentry Bumgarner, 77, of Millers Creek, passed away on Tuesday, January 21, 2020.

       Kyle was born on July 2, 1942 in Wilkes County to James Talmadge Bumgarner and Virchew Yates Bumgarner.  

       Kyle is preceded in death by his parents, step mother Odessa Pilkenton Bumgarner; brothers, JR, Howard, Wayne, Jim, Hobert Bumgarner; sisters, Ruth Bumgarner, Lois McGuire and Hazel Eller.  

       Kyle is survived by: his wife of 44 years, Betty Jean Wyatt Bumgarner; daughter, Sally Marshall and husband, Nick of Millers Creek; grandchildren, Keila Marshall of Louisana, Logan Eller of Moravian Falls, and Austin Marshall of Millers Creek.  

       The family  conducted a memorial service  at Union Baptist Church in Millers Creek with Rev. Steve Faw officiating.  

       In lieu of flowers memorial donations may be given to Adams Funeral Home of Wilkes P.O. Box 396 Moravian Falls, NC 28654 to help with final expenses.

       Adams Funeral Home of Wilkes has the honor of serving the Bumgarner Family.

  Jewell  Lambert, 86

Jewell Gail Lambert, age 86, of Millers Creek, passed away Monday, January 20, 2020 at Wake Forest Baptist Health-Wilkes Regional. She was born March 9, 1933 in Ashe County to George and Vergie Jones Eller. Mrs. Lambert was a member of Cricket Baptist Church and enjoyed gardening. She was preceded in death by her parents; and her husband Vernie Lambert.

       Surviving are her sons, Steve Lambert and spouse Kristie of Millers

Creek, Mark Rash of Wilkesboro; daughters, Carolyn Auville and Kitty Rash both of Millers Creek; sister, Charlene Lambert and spouse Gary of Hays; six grandchildren; five great grandchildren; four great great grandchildren; numerous nieces and nephews.

       Funeral service was January 23,  at Cricket Baptist Church with Rev. Randall Millsaps, Rev. Arvil Glen Perry and Rev. Joe Farmer officiating. Burial  followed in Mountain Park Cemetery.   Flowers will be accepted. Miller Funeral Service is in charge of the arrangements.

 Edna  Watson, 96

Edna Key Blackburn Watson, age 96, of North Wilkesboro, passed away Sunday, January 19, 2020 at Westwood Hills Nursing and Rehab Center. Edna was born August 19, 1923 in Wilkes County to Clarence C. and Oma Haynes Key. She was a member of Flint Hill Baptist Church and attended Bethel Baptist Church for many years. Edna loved making crafts, doing puzzles and walking. She worked for 30 plus years and retired from Modern Globe as an inspector. Mrs. Watson was preceded in death by her parents; her first husband, Senter Blackburn; her second husband, Paul Watson; brothers, Raymond Key, Ransom Key, Henry Key; and sisters, Betty Key and Ruth Absher.

       Surviving are her sisters, Margie Shepherd, Mazie Miller, Virginia Dancy all of North Wilkesboro; brother, J.C. Key and spouse Marie of Greensboro; step-sons, Jimmy Watson and Larry Watson; many nieces and nephews.

       Funeral service was January 23,  at Miller Funeral Chapel with Pastor Donnie Shumate, Rev. Marvin Blackburn and Pastor Gene Shepherd officiating. Burial  followed in Flint Hill Baptist Church Cemetery.   Flowers will be accepted. The family has requested no food, please. Miller Funeral Service is in charge of the arrangements.  

 Martha Nichols, 78

Martha Marler Nichols, 78, died Sunday morning at Mountain Valley Hospice in Yadkinville, NC, January 19 of cancer, surrounded by her family. She was a beloved wife, mother, aunt, cousin, grandmother and friend. Martha was born and grew up in Winston-Salem, NC the daughter of Ralph H. Marler and Jeanne Lalance Marler, a member of First Presbyterian Church, attended RJ Reynolds High School, and then Converse College in Spartanburg, SC. She married James P. Barksdale, JR of Rocky Mount, NC, a Presbyterian minister in 1962 and lived in Kannapolis, NC, Charlotte, NC, and North Wilkesboro, NC with churches that he was called to serve. After his death in 1981, Martha married Ward H. Nichols, a renowned artist and returned to live in North Wilkesboro, NC.

       From the beginning of her adult life as a Presbyterian minister's wife, Martha was a devoted supporter of her husband and his career, but she also had outside interests and took art and history courses while in Charlotte and North Wilkesboro. An artist herself, she taught watercolor and drawing classes at Wilkes Community College, volunteered at the Wilkes Art Gallery and became the gallery's director in 1976. Following this work, Martha served as the Director of ExperienceWorks, the Director of Retired Senior Volunteers Program, a Commissioned Realtor with Caldwell Banker and Apple Realty, and lastly as the Marketing Director of Rose Glen Manor, the organization from which she retired.

       When Martha's mother died, she became a consummate gardener to work through her grief and before limitations in her mobility, had over 200 roses in her garden, was an award-winning master rosarian and was a member of the Winston-Salem Rose Society and American Rose Society. Valentine's Day would signify the delivery of her roses to many friends and loved ones throughout Wilkes, Caldwell, and Forsyth Counties. Also inspired by her mother's lifelong hobby of quilting, Martha became more than an avid quilter, making over 50 quilts and prayer blankets, most of which she gave to friends in celebration of a joyous occasion, or to friends who faced serious or terminal illnesses.

       In fact, Martha sought out people who were experiencing terminal illness, becoming their friend and counselor, and providing whatever comfort she could give. In 1980 when her first husband was diagnosed with cancer, Martha created what she called a home-grown hospice program since hospice was not yet widely available.  This led to her contributions towards hospice in Wilkes County, culminating in 1984, first with a speech and presentation to a group of clergy from western NC and subsequently to another group of oncologists in the area. She became well known for her lecture, "The Impact of Cancer on the Family Unit: Psychological and Theological Emphasis" and sharing her experiences were instructive in enhancing their understanding.

       The arts helped bring Martha and Ward together, and Martha's life with Ward provided another ongoing connection to the arts. Ward claims that Martha was his biggest advocate and supporter, often naming his paintings and providing constructive feedback.  She also managed the business affairs of his work, helping to organize most of his shows and always serving as a consummate host to out of town guests and collectors. They were married for more than 35 years, and their lives included an international trip almost every year and to every state in the continental US. Ward and Martha were members of North Wilkesboro Presbyterian Church and attended regularly, and Martha served as an Elder and on the membership and personnel committees. Martha's involvement in the community was extensive, and she was particularly proud of Vision2020, a long-range planning effort in Wilkes County during the 1990's.  Ward and Martha also frequently visited Charleston, SC, West Virginia and Isle of Palms, where Martha's children would join them for a week at the beach.

       While Martha had a full career and many interests and hobbies, she would claim her most important accomplishment was her family, with her first husband, Jim Barksdale and their three children, and then her marriage with Ward Nichols, which coincided in time with the arrival of her four grandchildren. Martha created an intimate family whose members have always deeply supported each other, teaching them how to love and to cherish, particularly during difficult times. Her values were very clear, she was a fervent advocate for the underprivileged, and donated her time and money to the homeless and the poor. Several causes stand out; she created the Ralph H. Marler, JR Award for the Wilkes Art Gallery in memory of her brother, and the Katie Fund for the Wilkes Animal Hospital in memory of her beloved cocker spaniel.

       In addition to her parents, Martha was preceded in death by her first husband, Rev. James P Barksdale, JR and her brother, Ralph H Marler, JR. She is survived by her husband, Ward H Nichols; and her three children, James P Barksdale III, Elisabeth S Barksdale (Laura E Clay), and grandson, Kip H Barksdale, John M Barksdale (Katina M Barksdale), and grandchildren, Ellis A Barksdale, Finn P Barksdale, and Catherine M Barksdale.

       A memorial service will be held on February 1 at 2:00pm, at the North Wilkesboro Presbyterian Church, with a celebration of life to immediately follow in the church fellowship hall.  In lieu of flowers, the family requests that donations be made to any shelter for the homeless, or to one of the funds inspired by Martha.

Thomas Eaton, 69

Mr. Thomas Frederick Eaton, age 69 of Kernersville passed away Sunday, January 19, 2020 at Wake Forest Baptist Medical Center.

       Funeral services were, January 24, at Reins-Sturdivant Chapel.  Burial with military honors by Veterans of Foreign Wars Post 1142 wasin Scenic Memorial Gardens.  

       Mr. Eaton was born June 12, 1950 in New Jersey to Henry J. and Regina K. Eaton.   Mr. Eaton served in the United States Air Force from 1972 until 1980. He loved airplanes, the beach, Bugs Bunny, Disney World, his cats; Stars and Stripes, his family and friends.  It seemed later in life his biggest joy was spending time with his grandchildren. He was formerly employed by RF Micro Devices.

       In addition to his parents he was preceded in death by his first wife; Kathleen E. Yeashvich Eaton and his second wife: Cynthia Diane Eaton.

       He is survived by sisters; Mary Anne Eaton, Susan J Locker and husband John, nephews; Eric J. Sneath, Christopher T. Sneath and wife Laurie, niece; Megan A. Locker, great niece; Sianna J. Sneath, sister-in-law; Joan Beem and niece; Karolyn B. Turcotte and husband Andre and their children; Sebastian and Sydney, step-daughter; Crystal Keener and husband Bucky, step-son; Jody Barbour and wife Anita and grandchildren; Kris, Harley, John, Olive, Emily, Gus and Charlie.

       Flowers will be accepted.

Edward Brown, 44

Mr. Edward Kenneth "Kenny" Brown, 44, of Wilkesboro, passed away on Friday, January 17, 2020.

       Kenny was born on March 27 1975 in Wilkes County to Kenneth Edward Brown and Shirley Louise Martin Brown.

       Kenny is preceded in death by his parents and sister, Kimberly Dare Brown.

       Kenny is survived by his sisters, Dawn Stanley (Ronnie) of N.Wilkesboro, Donna Byers of Wilkesboro; nieces, Shana Dollar (Robert), Melissa McGinty all of North Wilkesboro; nephew, Michael Byers (Olyvia) of Wilkesboro and good close friend Vera Vickers of Hickory.  

       The family  conducted a memorial service  January 25, at Westwood Hills Nursing Facility.

Rev. Steve Smith will be officiating.

In lieu of flowers donations may be given to the American Diabetes Association P.O. Box 11454 Alexandra VA, 22312 or a charity of the donor's choice.  

Condolences may be sent to:  www.adamsfunerals.com

Adams Funeral Home of Wilkes has the honor of serving the Brown Family.

[rhonabeaumont]

What are we doing, as souls here in Earthly form?

Let me start by stating that there are no “negative” or positive” spiritual planes, homes, as such. Just as there is no concept of right or wrong, but just experiences which are undertaken on Earth to gain a better understanding of the concept of unconditional love, before we transition back to our home. If you think of every experience you have in your life as one which is teaching you about love for self, those closest to you, love for community and love for those souls you don’t know. Is the experience one which attracts or detracts from love? Is the experience one which pushes us to greater love when it is a negative experience? Teaches us the power of love without conditions? Does it show us the emotional connection deep within us that strives to seek love? If you think of every loss, rejection, abandonment and trauma you have experienced as an example of how much we seek to feel love, to be loved, to know how much love is as important as oxygen we can value love just as highly in its absence as in its presence. All experiences we undergo whilst on Earth, show us an aspect of love, even in its absence, trauma, abuse, violence, we understand the depth and importance of love.

Before we come down to Earth, we work with our team of guides, our soul group members, to create a series of experiences to serve our highest good. In some Earthly lives, we are here purely to support another soul group member through an experience, or we might teach a community a lesson in love, or even the World. Depending on the depth of our soul wisdom, the number of Earthly journeys, or even our own higher self’s desire to experience a certain set of conditions, all will impact the life path.

We sign up for these experiences, as sacred contracts- just as Carolyn Myss discusses in her book of the same name.

You may already get a sense of your contracts, agreements. You often know when you are in the midst of the contract which feels so deep, memorable and vivid moments in your life.

We choose these contracts often passed on previous life encounters which we choose to revisit, or it might be to support a fellow soul group member in an experience which they wish to encounter. These experiences or encounters become the key to our lives, they are often inflection points. Inflection points challenge us, force directional changes in our lives, open us up to deep emotions that can often rip us apart inside. Think for a moment back over your lives and see how certain experiences fundamentally changed you and your path. Trauma, loss of a loved one, divorce, violent, any form of abuse. All are powerful forces that will have impacted your life, and will have caused you to recalibrate.

Any action or response is ok, there again, there is no right or wrong response to these experiences, or inflection points. When we transition home, we examine these inflection points , as a soul, with our guides to determine whether we Wish to experience these again or wish to experience something different , it is a matter of choice.

Often those we refer to as “wise souls “ choose more “challenging” contracts, those that require courage,risk, and stepping outside the defined norm. Maybe even to teach mankind a lesson. All souls are the same beneath their Earthly physical being, it’s just a case of what that souls, higher self, guides and teachers choose to experience that alters the path.

But why? Well, Source, Divine, is not able to experience emotions of any kind in Earthly from. As Neal Donald Walsh’s books tell us. It is only through the particles of Source, which are our spiritual bodies, that Source can “feel”. Our experiences, our choices, our love return to Source, so Source can expand and experience greater love.

Are there different levels or planes ? Yes there are planes. But not in the definition of lower or less important planes to higher planes. Each soul lives in a plane which matches their experiences , their soul path , which fits with where they are in terms of their connection and undertaking of love. As the planes vibrational shift to higher levels of understanding and experience, the energetic vibration is lighter. For instance when I am talking to a loved one in Spirit their energy feels very similar to ours, the same personality, the same mix of emotions, anger, upset, love, joy, etc. When I speak to a spirit guide , their energetic fingerprint is more even-keeled, steady without the highs and lows of emotion. Contacting an ascended master. , the vibration is strong, steady yet full of light. All the way up to the Archangel realm, where there is one overriding feeling of unconditional love.

In Earthly terms, imagine the difference in the type of conversation you may have with your grandmother compared to talking to the Dalai Lama or any other modern day prophet.

We transition back to our spiritual home when we choose, and based on the experiences and contracts we have signed. Yet, it is not so simple, because our contracts and experiences are tied to others, other souls. So, it’s like a series of dominoes, where we stand up some of the pieces, but other members of our soul group stand up the others . Often we have lives which are purely about being their for another soul group member, some souls will transition home early, so the soul members left behind can experience the emotion of loss. Our they transition to leave behind a legacy, creating a powerful force behind them to transform Earthly life at a community or world level ( think of the impact of Princess Diana and her death, which created such a sense of love and community ) . There are souls that come down to incarnate into physical and emotional beings who we would define as pure evil, in their Earthly lives, to highlight and shine a huge light on the opposite of evil, so we may listen and pay attention. Allowing us to see the very best of humanity in the darkest of the worlds history. Without these moments of awakening, when the soul speaks through its Earthly self, life here would be very dark.

So, we transition back to Source, into the light. We fit into a plane which resonates at the same vibration as us, there we will find our soul group. We reflect on our Earthly life, and make a choice to either reincarnate, or rest, or choose another path. If we choose to reincarnate, to experience other sacred contracts on Earth(or other planets) , we grow, we shift our vibration and then transition back to spirit sometimes onto a different higher vibrational platform. On that new platform, we may become spirit guides, and support our soul group members from the other side.

Many of us , here on Earth have incarnated over 100 times, each life being a single blip, we come for our own learning, to support other soul members, to give birth to souls who will surpass us on their journey here , all choices are valid.

If we choose to become a spirit guide for a soul, we will often take a short life before the soul we will be guiding incarnates. Think of a child lost at birth or at a young age, who has incarnated to experience the mother’s energy, so that when they go on to guide the future soul, can understand the family dynamics. I often chat to brothers, sisters on the other side who left Earth early to start their training as a guide for a nephew, niece, grandchild, waiting to be born.

I also encounter agreements where a wise soul, who is a mother or father, takes on the ultimate contract by agreeing to transition so their child might stay on Earth. The bargaining contract, which changes a sacred contract can also happen, but it is rare. Loss teaches us about life, it’s meaning and the deepest level. There is no greater depth of emotion than unconditional love, and to truly know love, we value the experiences of trauma, loss, rejection, abandonment, and other painful emotions. It is a balance that predicates our lives. We see how grief transforms people, grief is from love,and it’s absence in our lives.

So, how does this knowledge help us?

Well, if the comments above resonate with you, then firstly think of your contracts. Maybe you wish to ask your guides to create new contracts? Do you feel you are experiencing what resonates with you ? Are you fulfilling your contracts with others to support their journeys? Meditate and connect in to see what resonates with your Soul.

Secondly, let go of the fear and anxiety. We direct our lives, our higher sleeves are following a path of purpose. We may not know the timeline, yet we can listen, learn and step into our path with love. Acknowledge what you wish to learn on this journey and then follow it ! Be guided, be brave, be bold and know everything in your path is happening for a reason. Flood your life with moments of love, inspire others to connect and seek love as it will fill your soul.

🙏🏻

[butimnotasexyrussian]

maybe~~~domestic au? thank you!!!

Way longer than a drabble and more technically a sick fic than domestic au, but here you are!

Emma begins to cough on Tuesday. It’s been a normal few weeks, which is always worrying. They never have this much of a breather without some other-dimensional threat crash-landing in Storybrooke.

But it’s been quiet. Nothing’s out of the ordinary. Emma wakes up, makes some Poptarts for breakfast (which Regina says she hates, but will always always sneak one when she thinks Emma isn’t watching, which she is, because she’s always watching Regina. How else is she supposed to guarantee her a happy ending if she’s not paying attention?), drop Henry off at school, and swing by Granny’s for some coffee and gossip before she gets to the station.

She wrangles Pongo, eats some donuts, helps some old ladies cross the street. All in a day’s work for the sheriff.

It isn’t until she gets home that the trouble starts.

Regina comes out of the kitchen when she hears Emma hacking in the foyer, scowling at her. “You went to work sick?”

“I’m not sick.”

“You sound like you have bronchitis. And your nose is running.”

“Allergies,” she says, closing the coat closet and edging by Regina.

“It’s December,” Regina says, following her back into the kitchen.

“You can have allergies all year round.” She sniffs hopefully at the stove. “What are you making?”

“Pilaf.”

“What should I do?”

Regina presses the back of her hand to Emma’s forehead. “Nothing. Go sit on the couch. You have a fever.”

“No, I don’t! It’s just hot in here!”

“So are you.” Before Emma can say it, she adds, “And I don’t mean that in the sexy way. You’re burning up. I think you have the flu.”

“I never get the flu.”

“Did you get your shot this year?”

“Well…”

“Emma. Do I need to put the fear of God into Snow to vax her kids?”

She laughs. “No, she knows better than that. Neal got his shot the first week they were available.”

“Good,” Regina says, nodding in approval. “But you?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I never get one and I’m always okay.”

“Apparently not.”

“Hey, it’s probably not the flu.”

Regina hums. It sounds skeptical.

Emma leans against the counter as Regina adds spices to the pot. “I didn’t exactly have health insurance through my employer during my bailsbondperson days.”

“Well, I have it on good authority that your employer provides excellent health insurance now.”

“And I’ll use it to go see Whale if I get worse. But that won’t happen.” She leans her forehead against Regina’s. “Stop worrying,” she murmurs. “I’m fine.”

“If you’re not going to go nap on the couch while I finish dinner for your sake, do it for me. It’ll make me feel better.”

“Okay then. But only for you, Madam Mayor,” Emma says, bowing.

Regina snaps a hand towel at her ass on the way out.

The next morning Regina had to go to work early for a meeting so they don’t see each other until Emma runs over the weekly report. Her secretary waves her in without a word. Regina herself is twisting back and forth in her office chair, on the phone.

“Yes. Yes. No, that won’t be necessary. Yes, I’m sure. We don’t need a separate account for dragon-related damages. Anything else? Okay, fine. Yes, you too. Bye.” She sighs as she hangs up. “So did you want to walk to Granny’s again or do you want to ord–?”

But she cuts herself off when she looks up and actually sees Emma, who is swaying slightly on her feet and looks like she’s about to pass out.

“You’re definitely sick. Go home right now. I will not have you infecting everyone in a fifty-foot radius just because you refuse to use your sick days, which you have plenty of. I know.”

“I’m fine,” Emma says, a stubborn set to her pasty jaw. And then she keels over.

Regina poofs them to the hospital, catching Emma before she hits the floor. “Could we see Dr. Whale?” she asks the receptionist, who doesn’t even blink at the sight of people poofing into the waiting room. He hands over some paperwork for her to fill out while Emma slumps in a chair and breathes, her eyes closed.

“I don’t need to see a doctor.”

“You promised you would if it got any worse and you almost fainted.”

Emma makes a disgruntled noise.

They’re ushered into a room right after Regina turns in the forms. Whale comes in mere minutes later, pulling on gloves. “Okay, how bad is it? Stabbing? Gunshot wound? Dragon bite? Dragon burn?”

“The flu,” Regina says.

“I don’t have the flu,” Emma mumbles.

“Oh.” Whale blinks. “Well uh, have you been coughing?”

“Yes,” Regina says.

“Runny or stuffy nose?”

“Yes.”

“Fatigue?”

“I always get tired really easily this time of year,” Emma says, mulish.

“Headache? Muscle aches?”

“No headache. I am a little sore but that’s because I ran for the first time in a few months.”

“Have you been feeling feverish or had chills?”

“No,” Emma says the same time Regina says, “Yes.”

Emma scowls.

“You have. You were feverish last night and you’re even warmer today. Take her temperature,” she says to Whale. “Not to mention, you were shivering in bed all night.”

He perks up. “What about you and Emma in bed last night?”

Even Emma musters the energy to glare, but it pales in comparison to Regina’s (especially with a thermometer under her tongue.)

“My curse gave you your medical degree and I can take it away just as quickly.”

He scoffs. “You can’t get rid of me. I’m the only doctor here.”

“The curse has been cast four times already, and we’ll probably cast it again next week when we need to save someone’s life. It wouldn’t be all that hard to shuffle things up a bit. Maybe Kathryn will take your place.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he says, but he sounds uncertain.

Regina smirks. “Don’t test me, Whale. Just tell me what I want to know and we’ll be out of your hair. Emma has the flu, doesn’t she?”

“Yep.”

Emma sighs.

“But let me make sure she doesn’t have pneumonia on top of that.”

“If you try anything, I’ll set you on fire,” Regina says matter-of-factly.

“Regardless of the curse, I am a medical professional.”

“Professional is pushing it,” Emma says, but she lets him listen to her lungs through his stethoscope.

Whale waves them off with a prescription for Tamiflu and the age-old medical advice: go home, get lots of rest, and drink plenty of fluids. Regina sets Emma up on the couch in a nest of blankets and pillows and Game of Thrones queued on the TV.

Regina hisses when she checks her watch. “I’ve got another meeting in half an hour.”

“Go back to work. I’m fine.”

Regina raises her eyebrows. “You’ll stay here, though?”

Emma shrugs. “I guess I don’t have a choice since I actually have the flu. I don’t want to get anyone else sick.” She shifts before she grins. “You should talk to my boss though. I don’t think she’ll be very happy that I suddenly took the day off without prior approval.”

Regina smiles. “You got a doctor’s note. I’m sure she’ll understand. I’ll make you some soup tonight but I’ll order you Granny’s in the meantime.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“If I don’t take care of you, you’ll run yourself into the ground. I know you.”

Emma fidgets some more. Regina frowns, but if she doesn’t leave now, she’ll be late.

“Get some rest, dear. I’ll see you in a few hours.” Regina presses a kiss to the top of Emma’s head before she poofs back to work.

When Regina gets home, Emma and Henry are playing Overwatch, bowls of melted ice cream and in Emma’s case, a wad of used tissues and empty cough drop wrappers on the coffee table. Emma jumps to her feet and starts to pile the bowls in one hand and her trash in the other hand.

“What are you doing?” Regina asks.

“Cl-cleaning up?”

“Sit down. You need to rest. I’ve got it. And you. Are you done with your homework, Henry?”

“No,” he mumbles.

She only has to raise an eyebrow before he turns off the game and drags his backpack upstairs.

Emma stares at her as she refills her water bottle and sweeps the tissues and wrappers into the trash.

“What is it?”

“Aren’t you scared? Of getting sick from me?”

“Henry and I always get the flu shot every year. We’re covered. Unlike some people. And I wash my hands all the time. Besides, I don’t get sick. Ever.”

“Huh.”

“Now what kind of soup do you want?”

Emma squints. “I feel like the wrong answer here is the kind that comes from a can? There’s something comforting about the neon yellow broth.”

“Well, I usually make my chicken noodle from scratch, but if you want Campbell’s, I can see if I’ve got any in the pantry.”

“I can do it,” Emma says, getting up.

Regina pushes her back down. “Your choices are napping or watching TV.”

“Regina, it’s just adding water and heating it up! I can do that.”

“Rest, fluids, and Tamiflu. Making soup wasn’t on the list. Doctor’s orders.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, mommy.”

“No kinky talk while Henry’s in the house.”

While Emma is sputtering, she digs around for a can of chicken noodle soup. Within minutes, she’s bringing out a steaming bowl of soup and setting it on the table.

Emma stares at the TV, sniffling. Regina automatically hands her another tissue. It isn’t until Emma takes it that Regina realizes she’s crying. The TV is showing a particuarly violent scene in Game of Thrones.

She tugs Emma into a hug. Emma shakes against her, gasping silent sobs against her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s…ice cubes i-in the soup,” she hiccups.

“You don’t like ice cubes in your soup? I can get you another bowl.”

“N-no, it’s…” She pulls back and takes a breath to gather herself, swiping at her tears. “I’m sorry. It’s nothing.”

Regina plucks another tissue from the box and dabs at Emma’s face. “I’d still like to know what’s bothering you, if that’s okay.”

Emma shrugs. “This whole thing is so weird.”

“Getting sick?”

“No. Yeah. Um…so my immune system is pretty good from growing up in orphanages, but I still got sick occasionally. And I think my first few families must’ve taken care of me like this, but after I’d been to too many foster homes to count and I realized that I was never gonna get adopted, I…no one really paid this much attention to me when I was sick. If I was sick, I still had to go to school and everything. Unless it was life-threatening, no one took me to the hospital. I’m used to taking care of myself.” She huffs a laugh. “What I’m trying to say is that I like the ice cubes in the soup. Very few people in my life taken care of me so seriously.” Her voice drops into a whisper. “I like it. A little too much.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

She looks away. “I’m still so scared that all of this: friends, family, a home, is going to turn out to be a dream,” she says in a broken whisper. “And I don’t know if I can handle losing all of this and going back to being on my own.”

“Come here, Emma.” She leans over and kisses her gently, even though Emma jerks back.

“You’ll get sick!”

“I won’t. Besides, you’re worth it. You’re lucky I’m fond of you.”

Emma rolls her eyes.

“I can’t say I regret taking away your family and making you live like that because we got Henry out of it, but I am sorry that I was the cause of your pain. I can’t change the past, but I can try to make you feel so loved and secure that maybe you can start to heal from that.”

“Okay,” Emma whispers.

“Eat your soup.”

They watch Joffrey get poisoned and die at his wedding, a soft ambiance of contentment settles over them.

Hours later, as they get into bed, Regina sneezes.

“I didn’t get you sick, did I?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Regina gets the flu a few days later.

Thank you for the prompt, anon! I’m love you!

[shireness-says]

Playing the Part ch. 14: What Did I Ever See In Him?

Summary: As a stage manager who’s clawed her way up from the bottom, Emma Swan can handle just about anything thrown her way. But does that include handsome lead actor Killian Jones? A CS Broadway AU.  Rated T. Also on AO3.  Prologue  Ch. 1  Ch. 2  Ch. 3 Ch. 4  Ch. 5  Ch. 6  Ch. 7  Ch. 8  Ch. 9  Ch. 10  Ch. 11  Ch. 12  Ch. 13

A/N: I’ve been so excited to share this chapter with you guys! It’s rough in the moment, but really sets things in motion. We’re closing in on the end, guys!

Chapter title taken from “Bye Bye Birdie”.

Thanks as ever to @snidgetsafan, the world’s best beta, who’s basically dragging me through these last couple of chapters. Thanks babe, I’ll give you new stuff eventually.

Tags: @kmomof4, @winterbaby89, @thejollyroger-writer, @mythologicalmango, @onceuponaprincessworld, @idristardis, @teamhook, @courtorderedcake, @aerica13, @revanmeetra87, @snowbellewells, @searchingwardrobes. If you want to be tagged going forward (or taken off this list - I won’t be insulted!), shoot me a message, and I’ll make it happen.

Enjoy - and let me know what you think!

It’s that fucking principle again - that everything falls apart just when things are going great. It’s official; Emma’s commissioning a study. Or maybe it’s just an inevitability in a more mundane way, that things can only go up or down and the downs will always be more noticeable. Whatever the case, Emma just hopes it doesn’t come in threes.

This crash feels so much harsher too because it’s much more personal, and it comes at the worst possible moment. The week had started with their Sign-Off performance, of course, and Emma had been flying high on Henry’s residual excitement over their appearance in the days immediately following. If she had hoped that her kid would let the Killian debacle slide, she’s sadly disappointed. Clearly, he’s spent too much time around Ruby and Mary Margaret growing up, as he’s determined to both interrogate and tease Emma about what this means for her love life. Smart alec.

“He’s got a cruuuush on you,” Henry singsongs, laughing uproariously as Emma’s cheeks flush. “Oh! Does that mean you do too?”

“It does not!” Emma insists, even as her blush insists otherwise. Traitor.

“Uh huh,” Henry nods, grinning deviously. Some kid she’s got.

(The best kid, always the best kid, even when he’s teasing her like this.)

“Killian is my colleague and my friend and a complete professional,” Emma lists patiently. Her tone is probably veering more towards long-suffering than patient, if she’s being honest, but it’s warranted in her opinion. “Which is, you know, why he said that in the interview.”

“Sure,” Henry replies, clearly unimpressed. Emma’s going to need to have words with Ruby, because Henry definitely did not get that side-eye from her. “Whatever you say, Mom.”

(The sass, though - he definitely got that from her.)

Know-it-all children aside, Emma’s having a good week - good weather, good mood, great shows… it seems that things are flying along, never better, practically unsinkable. Until Thursday, that is.

Thursday is the day everything goes to hell.

Ashley, the young woman who plays Kitty in their production, calls out sick, requiring an early call time for everyone to run through the show with the understudy and make sure she’s comfortable with the choreography and her handful of lines, or at least comfortable enough with them to make it through a performance. Not the way Emma wants to start her day, but it doesn’t necessarily spell disaster. They can work with that.

What’s worse, though, is getting to the theater to discover that a power surge the evening before has tripped several breakers and screwed with their lights, necessitating changing bulbs and a full check of the theater’s electrical systems. The headset system they’ve got to work with is better than most Emma’s dealt with in her time, but it’s still prone to more interference than Emma would prefer, and a short in their system won’t do Emma and Kristoff any favors. The whole thing is going to be a major stressor in the crew’s afternoon, but there’s no way around it.

Dealing with both of those situations is enough - more than enough, really, if Emma’s being honest.

However, apparently some higher power has it out for Emma, because the joy doesn’t stop there. Instead, that same Thursday, three days after the show’s Sign-Off appearance, Neal shows up in town - at Emma’s theater, no less! - because of mother-fucking course he does.

Honestly, she has no idea how Neal got into the theater in the first place - you’d think someone would have kicked him out between the stage door and the stage. Then again, her ex has always had a way of bluffing his way into places - fake it ‘til you make it and all that. He acts like he knows exactly what he’s doing, and for whatever reason, people believe him.

Emma doesn’t even notice him sauntering around the stage at first, too busy discussing what replacements they’ll need to order with Robin in the booth to pay attention to what’s going on below and leaving Kristoff to be the unfortunate messenger. The unwitting harbinger of doom, if you will.

“There’s some guy asking for you?” her usually even-keeled sound tech cuts in when a break in the conversation allows, voice betraying an uncharacteristic irritation. “Made it sound like you’d know him. I don’t know, he wasn’t exactly forthcoming.” If Emma didn’t know better, she’d almost say there was a hint of disdain in Kristoff’s tone, but that’s silly. Kristoff gets along with everyone, mostly by barely talking to anyone. He’s got that Nordic, Midwestern implacability too where Emma can never tell what he’s thinking, and especially can never tell when he’s flustered.

It’s all explained, though, when she looks through the window to see her ex impatiently checking his phone. He’s not tapping his foot yet but Emma can sense the urge from this distance. Typical - Neal always seems to believe that his time is more valuable than everyone else’s.

“Fuck,” she curses loudly. “It’s my ex. Henry’s dad,” she elaborates when Robin lifts a curious eyebrow at her outburst. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.” Blood pressure no doubt shooting through the roof, she turns on her heel and storms out of the booth to confront Neal and find out why the hell he’s here.

By the time she makes it down to the orchestra level, Neal’s officially progressed to foot-tapping stage, glancing around impatiently. Like he’s the one being inconvenienced here.

“What do you want, Neal?” she demands as soon as she gets close enough. There’s a small amount of pleasure to be taken in watching Neal jerk his head up in response and then down again rapidly to meet Emma’s eyes where she stands in the audience, knowing that it will likely result in a nasty knot in his neck from all the drastic movements. Only a small amount, though.

“Well hello to you too, Ems,” he replies easily, like all of this is some light-hearted social call instead of him barging into her place of employment.

“I’m not kidding around, Neal. What the hell are you doing here?” She doesn’t have time for this, but if she has to deal with it, she’s cutting straight to the point and skipping past the useless pleasantries.

“Well I was in town for a meeting and thought I’d drop by,” he replies.

“Bullshit.”

“Excuse me?” Neal reacts, playing up his faux offense. It’s all an act, Emma knows; she doesn’t even need a superpower to see that.

“Bullshit. You have never once in your life just ‘dropped by’, and you think theatre is a frivolous waste of time.”

“Can’t a man come see his son, maybe take him to dinner?” he tries instead, changing tactics.

“You certainly can, but it’s 3pm, Neal. Henry won’t be by after school for another hour. And, again, you have never ‘dropped by’ for a surprise visit just because you were in town for some meeting. In fact, you usually have to cancel on dinner with Henry when your meetings run over.”

“Oh c’mon Ems, that’s not fair,” Neal complains, but who the fuck cares what he has to say on the subject? Emma is about to tell him as such when Scarlet interrupts with better timing than she would have credited him with, though his tone is too annoyed to actually write off the interruption as being for her benefit.

“Oi, not that this isn’t fascinating, but would you clear the bleedin’ stage? I’ve been trying to bring this light bar in for the past five minutes but some people,” he glares pointedly at Neal, “won’t get out of the way.”

The nuisance himself looks like he’s about to bite back, but Emma cuts in before he gets the chance. “You gotta move, Neal, I don’t care where. Go hang out backstage or in the house or something. I’ve gotta take care of some stuff, I can’t keep an eye on you.” If she’s secretly hoping he gets whacked in the head with the light bar, well, that’s her business, and entirely understandable to boot.

“We need to talk, Emma,” he insists, apparently finally cutting to his point.

“Yeah, well, I need to do my job. You showed up at a bad time, and I’ve got people waiting on me. We’ll talk later.” She hopes her voice is firm enough - ideally, the one she uses to keep everyone in line when everything is going to shit - but ultimately, it doesn’t much matter as she whirls around and stalks back to the booth.

She’s got a terrible feeling she knows exactly what this is about. It seems like an awfully big coincidence that Neal just happens to unexpectedly show up at her theater, a place he’s never showed interest in, only a couple days after a male coworker said nice things about her on national television. Whatever the case, she so doesn’t have time to deal with it now.

Neal is just going to have to wait.

———

Word travels fast throughout the ranks, and the shocking news that their beloved stage manager’s ex-boyfriend and father to Henry has unexpectedly showed up on their stage is no exception. Killian hears it from Belle, who was told by Scarlet, who relates as much of the situation as he knows with plenty of added commentary about how the man’s a nuisance and possibly an imbecile and honestly, who the bloody hell doesn’t hear a man hollering about a heavy bleedin’ light bar about to be flown in? Fuckin’ idiots, that’s who, if you ask a very irritated Will Scarlet. And then somewhere along the line David Nolan catches wind of it and tells Mary Margaret, and when you tell Mary Margaret anything, suddenly the entire cast knows. It’s just a fact of their little cohort.

Now, Killian considers himself to be an open minded man, a tolerant man, a man who does not make decisions about people before he knows them. Liam raised him to be kind and polite and to listen to people and not make premature judgements, and usually, Killian does his best to live up to that example.

But, God help him, he Does Not Like Emma’s ex.

(Well, part of that might have been related to the holiday party incident and not their encounter today, but his point still stands)

He’s prepared to swear that even were Neal not the former lover of the woman he’s slowly becoming devoted to, he still wouldn’t like the man. There’s something about the other’s man attitude – that he can do what he pleases, and everyone else’s opinion be damned. Killian hates it.

Currently, “whatever he pleases” is wandering around backstage semi-aimlessly, sticking his nose into corners and getting underfoot and generally driving everyone slowly mad.

“Can I help you, mate?” Killian asks in a perfectly civil tone - or at least what he thinks is a perfectly civil tone - when he runs down to grab a prop only to find the other man peeking into thankfully empty dressing rooms.

“Nope, just looking around,” the ex had replied about as absently as humanly possible, not bothering to even make more than glancing eye contact.

Alright then.

The only marginally redeeming factor of that man is how purely delighted Henry is to see him when the lad comes by after school. Killian may be many things - a very judgemental and petty man at the moment, for one - but he’s not a monster, and he’s willing to put up with a lot if it makes that wonderful boy happy. Still. Doesn’t mean he has to become best friends with the man, or even be happy about his presence. In fact, Killian thinks he’ll keep an eye out from a short distance, just to make sure the lad stays happy; he doesn’t quite trust the other man’s motives here, even if he is Henry’s father.

“Dad!” Henry exclaims as soon as he spots the man in question, a wide and brilliant smile stretching his cheeks as his eyes visibly light up. “I didn’t know you were gonna be here!” Just as quickly though, his features shift to confusion. “I didn’t miss a call, did I?”

“Oh no, of course not, buddy,” Neal reassures. “I just thought I’d surprise you.”

Though this appearance could certainly be described as a surprise very easily, Killian still thinks that’s not the whole story. Henry is less fazed though, or at least willing to take the excuse at face value in his excitement over his dad’s presence.

“You’ve got to come meet everyone!” Henry exclaims, practically bouncing on his feet as he tugs Neal over towards Killian.

Lord help me, Killian can’t help but think, this will be fun. If the other man’s face is anything to go by, he seems to be thinking the same thing.

“Killian!” Henry calls, managing to pull an almost genuine smile out of him. “You’ll never guess who’s here! This is my dad!”

“Aye, we met briefly earlier,” Killian replies, thinking of their dressing room encounter (if it can even really be called that). In the name of civility, he sticks a hand out to shake. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr…?” Technically, he already knows the other man’s name, but it feels rude to admit that the whole production knows who he is through the gossip train.

“Cassidy. Neal Cassidy,” he supplies with a smile that looks strained at best, pointedly not shaking the offered hand. “So, you’re the actor or whatever?”

“Aye, that’s me,” Killian agrees, trying hard not to be put out. “I play the male lead in this show, Mr. Darcy.”

“So you and Ems… work together a lot, then?”

So that’s what this is about. Killian almost feels stupid for not putting it together earlier, but it’s hard to miss the strategic emphasis in that sentence that suggests Neal is certain something more is happening. Self-important arse.

“Swan works closely with the entire cast, crew, and production team,” he replies carefully. “She’s perhaps the best stage manager I’ve ever seen, and very dedicated to the job at hand. We’re incredibly lucky to have her steering our little ship.”

“Sure.” Neal is obviously skeptical, if his posture and crossed arms are anything to go by. It takes everything Killian has not to roll his eyes at the bastard’s ridiculous posturing. Even Henry is picking up on the tension, looking back and forth between the two men with that same furrowed brow Emma gets when faced with a problem she’s trying to dissect.

“And I bet that’s all it is. Just a professional relationship,” Neal intones, continuing his interrogation. Killian truly questions the man’s judgement; to him, at least, this seems like an inappropriate avenue to be walking down with Henry right there, but then again, he may be biased as the target of the questioning.

“I believe that’s what I already said,” Killian replies. He’s tried to keep civil this whole time, but he can’t help the irritation from creeping into his tone. “We’re colleagues who interact on friendly but professional terms.” Is there a problem with that? the argumentative side of Killian is itching to demand, but he refrains for Henry’s sake

“Maybe we should go meet other people,” Henry blessedly cuts in before anything comes to blows or Killian says something he regrets (strangely enough, Neal doesn’t seem to have the same qualms that he does). “I’ll see you later, Killian!” he calls back over his shoulder as he practically drags his father away by the arm.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Killian hears Henry chastise from around the corner; he somehow doubts that the lad intended his voice to carry so far. Serves the man right, to be scolded by his own son, though Killian would be shocked if Neal suddenly came to regret his actions. A man that comes into town specifically to get on his ex for mostly platonic words said on a television program doesn’t seem the type to suddenly see how ridiculous his actions are.

He knows that Emma is the last person to want any pity, but she has Killian’s all the same. The man seems to be an insufferable prick, or is at least intent on acting like one; as bad as Killian’s interaction with Neal was, he’d be willing to bet that Emma’s in for something even more infuriating. He sure hopes that this dickery is a recent development, because at the moment, he has no idea what Emma ever saw in that man.

It’s none of Killian’s business, not really, but he can’t help but feel angry on Emma’s behalf that she’ll have to deal with whatever bullshit that bastard chooses to spew at her. Whatever interrogation he just had to suffer, she’ll undoubtedly have to deal with even worse. The more he thinks about it, the more frustrated he gets, until there’s nothing else to do about the matter - he calls Liam. It was either that or go hunt down Neal to ask a bunch of uncalled-for questions in a petty form of revenge.

“Make it quick, brother,” Liam immediately says when he answers, “the filming break is ending in seven minutes.”

“Emma’s ex is the most insufferable man alive,” Killian declares, launching right in.

“Good to know. And how exactly do you know this?” Liam asks in return.

“The arse showed up at the theater today - which was not expected, let me tell you, Henry was shocked to see his father. He obviously has never set foot in a theater, looking around everywhere and getting underfoot. And from everything I hear from Henry, he doesn’t exactly see his dad often, no other spontaneous visits like he was trying to claim this is. And this only a few days after that blasted interview aired! What a wild coincidence!” Killian says sarcastically. “So here he is, showing up to ask me a bunch of questions about whether Emma and I are really just colleagues. Funny, that.”

“Sounds frustrating,” Liam replies, making all the right noises even if he’s a little lost as to what’s going on.

“God, he’s such a pretentious arse. Waltzing right on in here like he gets a say in Swan’s work life. Or her personal life. Hell, the man’s barely around enough to earn the right to an opinion in Henry’s life. Try telling him that, though.”

“Speaking of which, do you plan on telling Emma all this?” Liam poses a good question, but Killian’s a bit conflicted on how to answer.

“I don’t know. She’ll be dealing with enough from him, you know? Not to mention everything else that’s going on around here - it’s a rough tech day to boot, as if she needs more on her plate. I don’t want to add any more stress. But at the same time… it feels deceptive, not telling her? Like I’m not supplying her with all the pieces of a problem.”

Liam hums. “So what are you going to do then?”

“I don’t know,” Killian whines back. “I’m just frustrated.”

“And that’s completely understandable,” Liam soothes. “Someone’s showed up to make trouble for a friend - someone you care for. It makes sense that you’d be angry on her behalf.”

“But what do I do, Liam?” he demands.

“Well, how about this for a compromise: if you see her before he leaves, you keep mum so as not to create more stress or be the cause of any conflict, but if you next see her afterwards, you do mention it. I’m quite firmly on the side of letting her know eventually, just so she can take whatever steps need taking to keep this kind of thing from happening again,” Liam suggests.

“I think I can manage that.” Venting to Liam hasn’t truly solved any problems, but he still feels better, like a dark cloud has been lifted from over his head. “Thanks, Liam. I know you’re busy, but I needed that. I’ll let you go, but really, thank you for being a listening ear.”

“Aye, I’ve got to be getting back,” Liam agrees. “Anytime though, Kil, I’m always here to listen. Hang in there - you and your lady both. Love you, little brother.” And before Killian can respond, even with a correction, the call disconnects.

Huffing a sigh, Killian attempts to release some of the remaining tension, before finally returning his attention to… whatever he came down here for in the first place. Thanks to certain unpleasant visitors, he’s having trouble remembering.

Really, damn the man and all the chaos he’s causing in his wake.

———

There’d been half a hope in the back of Emma’s mind that maybe she’d wrap up everything that needed immediately taking care of before Neal got bored and wandered back again, if only to avoid her ex pulling that “how dare you inconvenience me, my time is more valuable than yours” act again, charming though it is. Sadly, the universe is not on her side in that wish, and Neal and Henry are already waiting at the front, the former already reprising his impatient scanning from earlier as Henry happily chatters away about God knows what.

“Does she always leave you waiting like this?” Emma hears Neal ask, his voice carrying despite the distance.

Henry shrugs nonchalantly in response. “I go talk to everyone. Sometimes Mom lets me help out around here too.”

“Oh, so she’s putting you to work?” Neal’s voice is scandalized - that’s the only word for it. Now that she’s almost to where the two stand, she can see the shock on his face too.

Emma will stand for a lot of things from Neal, but that’s an implication too far. “Yes, I make him lug fifty pound fly weights all over the place. Builds character,” she replies, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Neal rolls his eyes. “Oh, c’mon, Em, you know I wasn’t suggesting that —” he tries to protest, but Emma cuts him off.

“Yeah, you kinda were. Henry, go get your stuff so you and your dad can get something to eat.” Henry scampers off at her suggestion, seemingly all too glad to escape the tension boiling between his parents, a tension that’s about to burst into something worse.

“C’mon, what was that about, Emma?” Neal whines, but Emma’s having none of it.

“Cut the crap, Neal. You wanted to talk, so talk. Starting with the real reason you’re here.”

“Well,” he states, “I saw the Sign-Off interview Monday night.”

Emma groans. She should have seen this coming, but that doesn’t make it any less stupid. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’m serious! I’m laying in bed watching some… stuck-up actor talk about how dedicated you are to the show —”

“And what, you took that as code for ‘child neglect’? Because someone I work with said I’m good at my job?”

Neal’s silence is telling.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you really thought that, didn’t you?” Emma manages to spit out. “Jesus Christ, Neal.”

“Look, I just know what I saw, ok?” he tries to defend as Emma rolls her eyes. “Don’t I have the right to come make sure you’re not neglecting my son, actually taking care of him instead of spending all your time at work or with some… some pretty boy?”

“That is fucking rich coming from you, Neal. Always so busy with your fancy job and your fancy house and your pretty little wife that you can’t even remember to call your son half the time. Fucking rich. I am doing everything I can to give that kid the best life,” she hisses, stabbing a finger into his chest, “and that’s a hell of a lot more than you’ve done. I’m the one that helps him with his homework, and takes care of him when he’s sick, and listens to all his worries. I’m the one who knows the names of all his friends and which takeout places are his favorite and how to best comfort him when he’s sad. Meanwhile, you couldn’t even be bothered to admit he was yours for five fucking years!” She’s practically shouting by the end, and only hopes Henry is too far away to hear. Neal just stands there glowering as Emma picks up steam. At least he seems to have picked up on the fact that he doesn’t have a leg to stand on.

“And for the record?” she finishes, trying to lower the volume of her voice and probably failing. “I’m not dating Jones, or anyone else. But even if I was, that would be none of your goddamn business. Just like your marriage is none of mine.” Neal finally opens up his mouth to speak, but Emma throws up a hand to stop him before he even starts. “No. We’re done here. You and Henry can leave out the stage door. Have him home by 8, it’s a school night and he has homework.” Emma’s shaking with rage by the end of her tirade, but stands her ground, and with a final huff, her ex stalks off to find their son. Good riddance.

As Neal makes his disgraced departure, still shooting dirty looks over his shoulder, Emma finally relaxes, practically collapsing in on herself. Yes, there are still problems to come in her day, but those are normal problems, the kind that she knows to account for when going to work in the morning. Neal’s presence was a different kind of stressor, one she can’t prepare for, and when shoved at her on top of her work-related stress, it sets a tension into her shoulders that’s unmatched by anything else. Honestly, based off the bullshit Neal was tossing her way, you would have thought Killian has said she was making Henry work sixty hour weeks, not that she was good at her job. For fuck’s sake.

Dropping her head back, Emma takes a moment just to re-center herself before straightening again to return to the booth, only to turn around to spot Robin with a less than pleased look on his face. In fact, she’d go far as to say that she’s never seen him look so furious. Abruptly, Emma’s stomach plummets. God, he must have seen or heard the confrontation with Neal; in the heat of it all, they probably weren’t as quiet as quiet as they should have been. It wasn’t fair of Emma to bring that kind of drama into their workplace, and Robin has every right to be angry about it, but still, it feels like a heavy stone in the pit of her stomach to see that look directed at her.

Quickly, she hurries to meet her colleague at the back of the aisle where he stands, stumbling over apologies the whole while. “Robin, I’m so sorry, you should never have heard - it won’t happen again -” she tries to tell him, but Robin throws up a hand to halt her words in their tracks.

“Stop,” he tells Emma. “Just… stop.” Oh god, he must be really mad. All Emma wants to do is apologize profusely and try to make this right, but she can’t do that if he’s not receptive to hearing it. The stone grows heavier and heavier in her stomach.

Robin exhales a deep breath, as if trying to calm himself down, and Emma braces herself for whatever he’s about to say. He must see or sense that somehow - probably a benefit of spending hours together every day in a space that always seems too small and crowded - because some of the anger recedes from his face, a small amount of tension easing from his frame as he reaches to grasp Emma by the shoulders.

“I’m not mad at you,” he tells her in a voice that’s somehow simultaneously both firm and gentle. Emma imagines it’s the same voice he uses with Roland from time to time. If not, he should - it’s effective.

“You’re not?” she replies in a voice that’s smaller than she’d prefer. Oh well; Robin won’t judge her for that.

“Gods above, no. I’m mad, yes, but not at you,” he explains solemnly, “Emma, darling, please believe me when I tell you this: no one could watch the display that absolute bastard was making of himself and be mad at you. None of this is on you. All of my anger is on your behalf, that he had the very nerve to stand there and say such things.”

“You don’t have to say that,” Emma mumbles. Still, her cheeks flush at the gesture and the care behind those words.

Robin just shrugs. “Maybe I don’t have to, but I’m going to anyways. You’re my friend, Emma,” he explains, “and I see what you do every day. I know exactly how much you give this job, and I know you give Henry even more, as much as a human being can. It’s… preposterous, to even suggest the two are mutually exclusive. Look, I know our situations aren’t exactly the same,” he prefaces, “but I know how easy it is to lose a lot of yourself in being a parent, just by virtue of trying to ensure that your kid has everything. You may not be dating Jones, or anyone else, but so what if you were? You’re allowed to try and find that kind of happiness for yourself, on top of the happiness you get from Henry. The fact that Neal - ” he spits out the name with unexpected derision - “thinks that he gets a say in that, just because he’s Henry’s father, is laughable. Absurd. Especially since he’s one step above an absentee parent.”

Emma can’t help but feel a rush of platonic affection at his words, though she’s mortified to feel those feelings welling into tears of relief and gratitude. It’s true that Mary Margaret and Ruby and Elsa have been agreeing with her about how much of an ass Neal is for years, but they’re practically family; there’s always kind of been that feeling that they have to say that because of their long and close connection to Emma. There’s something meaningful and vindicating about hearing Robin, a coworker of significantly less acquaintance, say the same thing - that her ex is a jerk who has no right to have any opinions about her personal life.

Robin doesn’t know that they’re good tears, however, and his leftover fury quickly morph into a confused concern. “Are you crying?” he asks, not waiting for an explanation. “Oh, please, Emma, don’t cry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said all that, I didn’t mean to upset you — ”

“It’s alright, Robin,” Emma cuts in with a teary chuckle. “It just means a lot to hear you say that. Thank you.”

“Ah, well, we’ve got to stick together, don’t we?” Robin smiles. “Single parents banding together and all that. Though, for the record, every one of us in here is rooting for you, not just me. Kristoff is as mad as I’ve ever seen him, and I thought Scarlet was about to bash his nose in.”

“Yeah, well, Scarlet just wanted the stage cleared so he could get his work done. Any opportunity to brain Neal with the light bar was just an added bonus,” Emma replies, snorting less than gracefully, happy to see a path out of the emotional bog she’d inadvertently waded into.

“You’re not wrong there,” Robin admits, breaking into his own bout of laughter. At the end of it, the mood is lighter for both of them, and while Emma is still irritated with her stupid-ass ex - a permanent thing, really, even if it’s a bit more than usual at the moment - the blind panic their argument had spawned about what everyone else is going to think of her has abated, thank god.

“Hang in there, darling,” Robin concludes with a collegial pat to her back. “We’re all here for you if you need to vent or plot a murder. Though, I should tell you,” he continues more seriously, “rumor has it that Neal was giving Killian the third degree earlier.”

“Of course he was,” Emma groans, dropping her head back melodramatically before setting her shoulders once again. “Sounds about par for the course today.”

Robin chuckles. “Nothing you can’t handle, o fearsome leader,” he teases. “Now go be a badass, prove him wrong.”

And you know what? Emma’s going to do just that. After one last stop, that is.

———

Killian doesn’t expect Emma to show up in the doorway of his dressing room as he runs through his pre-show prep - in fact, for one irritated moment, he’s convinced it’s Cassidy come back to grill him some more.

“You scared me there,” he comments, tossing a grin towards where Emma leans against the door frame. “I thought you were our charming visitor.”

Emma winces at the words. “Yeah, about that…”

“Oh god, he’s not coming back, is he?” Killian groans. It would be just his luck if the man was standing right behind Swan, but at this point, they’re already on poor enough terms that he’s willing to risk it. It’s not like things can disintegrate any further.

Thankfully, Swan emphatically shakes her head to that. “No, no, he and Henry are off getting dinner somewhere. But I did hear that you guys had the pleasure of meeting.”

Belatedly, Killian realizes that as awful as he thinks Emma’s ex is, she maybe doesn’t want to hear that from others. She’s the one who has to deal with him for the foreseeable future; his conversation with Liam aside, it seems bad form to complain about the man to Emma’s face and potentially make her feel worse, both about the prospect of dealing with Neal and about the fact that he’s here in the first place. The latter is most certainly not her fault.

“Yes, he’s, uh… it was interesting, meeting the man,” Killian finally says, as diplomatically as he can manage.

Swan, thank God, is having none of that however. “Oh please. He’s an ass. A real piece of work. No use beating around the bush, it’s not going to hurt my feelings or anything. I’ve got thicker skin than he does.”

“Ah, well, as long as you said it first,” he laughs. Suddenly, he remembers an earlier part of their conversation - the bit about how she heard Neal and he had talked - and something clicks. “Wait, you’re not here to apologize for his utter lack of manners, are you Swan?”

Her face contorts into a sheepish smile. “Maybe?”

“Well save your breath, love,” Killian insists. “There’s no need. His actions and his words are in no way your fault. You know that, right?” It feels crucial that she knows that.

“Yeah, Robin told me pretty much the same thing,” she replies. “Still. I feel bad that you had to deal with him at all.”

“Put it out of you mind, love, I beg you. I’ll admit that he wasn’t a particularly pleasant part of my day, but I’ll put him out of my mind soon enough. He’ll be a footnote, at best. Don’t worry yourself about it, please.”

“I mean, if you’re sure…” she trails off uncertainly, that guilty look still darkening her face.

“I insist,” he says with finality. He can still see Emma’s doubts lingering though, so he quickly shifts to teasing. “I do have to ask, though,” he says, noting the trace of caution that appears in the crease between her brows, “what did you ever see in him?”

At his teasing smile, Emma releases the tension she’s holding again, going so far as to roll her eyes at the question, and they’re able to resume their banter again, continuing on as if Neal and his nonsense never happened.

(His line that evening about Collins being a pompous, prattling fool seems a little more pointed than it ever has before, but the audience doesn’t need to know that. Killian is confident that Emma hears it all the same.)

If you guys liked this chapter, please please please reblog (or even just like!) it. I’m a desperate woman who’s not about pleading. Thanks for reading!