#rose does nyc

[ladamedusoif]

I have been a bit quiet of late on here...but for once, it's a good thing. I was off having the time of my life in NYC!!

I rarely feel immediately comfortable in a place in the way I did in NYC and I'm still at a loss to explain why. It just...fitted with my brain. There are too many magic things to recall - the view from 30 Rock, witnessing a total solar eclipse along with half of NYU in Washington Square Park...

I saw artworks I never expected to see in real life (the Signac portrait of French writer Félix Fénéon at MoMA, on the left) and that chimed nicely with my vibe (the painting of the young woman on right, at the Met, called...'A Rose').

I cried at the Tenement Museum in dealing with my family history, and had one of the greatest martinis of my life at Bemelman's Bar.

And best of all, I got to hang out with @paulmescal-s in real life, eat Spanish food, walk the High Line, blush like sluts at t-shirts featuring That Man, and answer the question "hey, are you both wearing Diego Luna t-shirts?" while buying cheesecake.

Next time I'm going back to the NYPL to work in the reading room that bears my name.

Oh, and obviously I bought these, in Economy Candy on the Lower East Side.

I miss that goddamned city so much.

[books]

Writer Spotlight: Rose Sutherland

Rose Sutherland @rosesutherlandwrites is a Toronto-based writer who grew up a voracious reader with an overactive imagination in Nova Scotia (where she once fell off a roof trying to re-enact Anne of Green Gables!). She's been to theatre school in NYC, apprenticed at a pâtisserie in rural France, and currently moonlights as an usher and bartender—in between writing queer folktales, practicing yoga, dancing, singing, searching out amazing coffee and croissants, and making niche jokes about Victor Hugo on the internet. She's mildly obsessed with the idea of one day owning a large dog, several chickens, and maybe a goat. A Sweet Sting of Salt is her debut novel.

Keep reading for more about character arcs in A Sweet Sting of Salt, Rose's favorite fanfic tropes, and some excellent reading recs 👀

Can you tell us about A Sweet Sting of Salt and how you came to write it?

A Sweet Sting of Salt is a queer (f/f) historical reimagining of the classic folktale of the selkie wife, set in 1830’s Nova Scotia. I call it a “reimagining” because while it draws on the folktale, it’s not a retelling of that tale so much as a story playing out in relation to that mythology. I’d wanted to write something centering a love story between two women for a while, but the initial spark came from a Tumblr post! It suggested the idea of selkies testifying before the UN as victims of human trafficking, which reminded me of all the things I disliked about the original folktale and its inherent darkness that is generally glossed over, starting me down the rabbit hole toward finding my own story.

How did you approach research for A Sweet Sting of Salt, and what is a favorite historical fact you learned?

I joke that I did a lot of research by osmosis: I already had a lot of base knowledge about the location, having grown up in Nova Scotia, and then set the story in a period that I’ve been absorbing information about in a low-key way for ages—1832 is also the year of the student rebellion in Les Mis, so I’ve been gleaning tidbits about this era since I first got into the musical and book back in high school. However, I had to do more specific research into things like British divorce law, period midwifery, and animal husbandry. I also visited some small, hyper-local museums on the South Shore that gave me an invaluable glimpse into daily life. I also did some fun practical research into things like “How long does it take to walk from x to y?” and “How cold IS a plunge into this body of water in March?” (Spoiler: Very.) 

A fact that fascinated me but didn’t make it into the book was that some early European settlers in the area were granted lands by luck of the draw, pulling from a deck of playing cards: Each card was assigned to a specific 50-acre lot, and whatever you pulled, you were stuck with it.

When we meet them, Jean and Muirin are isolated for different reasons. What do you hope readers still searching for their people take away from A Sweet Sting of Salt?

That there’s always hope. It’s valuable and important to keep reaching out to the world around you, to be open, and not cut yourself off—the biggest reason for Jean’s loneliness at the beginning of this story is the way she has come to keep everyone around her at arm’s length, shutting herself away out of fear, and refusing to let anyone truly get to know her because she thinks that’s the best way to protect herself from being hurt again. Reaching out to others can take a real act of courage, especially if you’ve had bad experiences in the past, but “your people” will reach back to you.

Found family elements play a strong role throughout the novel, within supernatural and mundane settings and across species. Was this something you intended from the beginning, or did this grow out of writing the relationship between Jean and Muirin?

I always intended for Jean to have a found family of this type, which is something that a lot of queer people identify with, but those bonds also got stronger and more meaningful as I wrote, especially once Jean and Muirin began growing into their own family unit—their new relationship and the real danger that comes along with it put pressures on Jean’s other relationships that I hadn’t originally considered. Disagreements with Anneke and Laurie over Jean’s choices arise from their deep concern and love for her, and her own love and care for them, reflected in her responses, is a big part of what made them feel like a real family, for me. Jean and Laurie always having each other’s backs while also being the first to call one another out on their bullshit ended up being one of my favourite dynamics in the whole book.

The selkie myth carries an inherent element of transformation. What is a character transformation you most enjoyed writing, and why?

On a character level, the change in Jean’s worldview following a conversation with her childhood sweetheart meant a lot to me—it heals an old wound for her. I love how grounded and self-assured she is afterward, in spite of the daunting task still ahead of her. But my favourite transformation to write was the antagonist’s mask-off moment, where they directly threaten Jean for the first time. It’s so sly and coded so that only she will understand the menace behind it, a real dun-duh-dunnn moment, which was a lot of fun for me—I also enjoy the foreshadowing elements in that exchange.

This is your debut novel. Did anything surprise you about getting it from manuscript to published book?

Oh my gosh, how LONG it took! After I finished the original draft and decided it was worth attempting to publish, I spent over a year revising based on my own thoughts, input from beta readers, critique partners, and my mentor, Maureen Marshall (whom I connected with through the now defunct Author Mentor Match program, and whose book, The Paris Affair—about a young gay engineer attempting to help Gustave Eiffel secure the funding to build a certain celebrated Parisian landmark— is coming out in May). After that came a full year of querying agents and getting rejected. A lot. People loved Salty but weren’t quite sure what to do with her or where the book would fit in “the market,” which was hard to deal with at the time but is hilarious in retrospect: Salty was snapped up less than a month after she finally went out on submission! But that was back in 2022, and the book is only coming out now. Publishing can be painfully slow.

You’ve written fanfic in the past—do you have a favorite fanfic trope?

I’m not sure either of these counts as a trope, but I adore a character that’s “pure of heart, dumb of ass”, and love a truly unhinged Fanon Explanation For Canon Object. As a longtime Les Mis stan, I ship Tholomyes/Getting Punched. If you know, you know.

Do you have any favorite queer retellings of folktales you can recommend?

Right here on Tumblr, I’m a huge fan of @laurasimonsdaughter, who writes delightful riffs on classic folktales, truly inventive urban fantasy spins on old lore, and her own original folktales. 

I’m currently reading Spear, an amazing queer, gender-bent, Arthurian novella by Nicola Griffiths. Anna Burke’s books Thorn and Nottingham are up next on my TBR. Lately, I’ve been reading a lot of brilliant queer historicals that aren’t retellings (I recently loved Suzette Meyr’s The Sleeping Car Porter and Heather O’Neil’s When We Lost Our Heads) and wonderful historical retellings that aren’t queer (I highly recommend Molly Greeley’s beautiful, heartbreaking Marvelous, about the real-life couple that inspired Beauty and the Beast). Queer, historical retellings aimed at adults seem to be considered quite niche, still, and can take some digging to find! So, throwing this out to Tumblr: Do you have recommendations for me?

Do you have a writing routine? Is there a place/state of being/playlist you find most conducive to your writing practice?

My routine is chaotic at best, but I find I do my best work earlier in the day, so I usually scribble in my journal while I have breakfast, and then progress to working on my current project as I drink my second cup of coffee. I’m lucky—my day job is an evening gig, which mostly allows me to write on my preferred schedule… but I’ve also been known to have a bolt of inspiration strike at 10pm and dash home to write until well past midnight on occasion. Nothing quite like the hyperfocus zone!

What’s next for you? Are you working on anything you can tell us about?

No official news yet, but I’m currently working on a story set in 18th-century provincial France based on a true unsolved mystery of the past. It has me delving into a very specific branch of French folklore, and I hope future readers will pick up on common threads with one popular fairytale in particular. I’m really excited about where this one is headed, but keeping the details close to my chest for now!

Thank you Rose for taking the time to answer our questions! If you love queer fantasy and old folktales, grab yourself a copy of A Sweet Sting of Salt, and be sure to share your queer folktale reading recs with Rose on @rosesutherlandwrites!

[mistoffeleesisawitch]

We always have to remember that Glinda is not city wealthy, she’s country wealthy. She does not know what an apartment building looks like and probably lives on the Oz equivalent of a Texan Ranch Megamansion. And likely owns a farm and a lakehouse.

I just know she was having the worst time of her life trying to live in the Emerald City post Defying Gravity. She may have had some rose-tinted (or emerald-tinted ha) glasses when she first came but this girl went from Madison, Georgia to NYC. She was Not having a good time.

(Like she’s canonically a country girl in the books but I’m talking musical here)

[cuddleyhoney]

rose colored dreams

small headcannons

(Sorry I've been so inactive lol )

fem reader x john wick au sfw

valentines day themed <3

While John may not be overly demonstrative, on Valentine's Day, he would make an effort to show his affection more openly. Whether it's a gentle touch, a reassuring glance, or a rare smile, he would convey his love in his own quiet yet unmistakable way.

John might not be the most vocal about his feelings, but he shows his love through thoughtful gestures. He would carefully choose a gift for the reader that reflects their interests or holds sentimental value, showing that he pays attention to the details that matter to them. He somehow has connections to the best gardeners in NYC, so he secretly does berry picking to grant you the best berries!

John would wake up a bit earlier than usual to wrap the reader in his arms, enjoying a few extra minutes of warmth and intimacy before starting the day.

Throughout the day, the reader might find little love notes tucked away in unexpected places—a pocket, a purse, or even a book—each one a reminder of John's affection.

If they have access to a quiet outdoor space, John might suggest stargazing together. He would bring blankets and hot cocoa, creating a warm and comfortable setting for them to enjoy the beauty of the night sky.

Best of all I feel as though John's love language is gift giving so that means he would gift you the most precious bags, shoes and flowers that made you feel like a little doll

and....at the end of the night, you post all the cute little gifts you received on social media and while John isn't so tech savvy he loves watching your stories and seeing your post!

thank you for reading <3

[tomorrowusa]

The Donald Trump hush money trial starts today in NYC.

Jury selection is the first order of business. In normal trials that may take a day or two. With Trump's legal foot-dragging, that could go into weeks.

There had been some doubts about Manhattan District Attorney Alvin Bragg's approach to this case. There is some new ground here. But Slate's Mark Joseph Stern, an attorney who initially had some reservations about the prosecution, is now "fully onboard" with it.

Over the past year, though, I have realized that my initial doubts about Bragg’s indictment were misplaced. It now seems clear that Trump’s New York trial, slated to begin this week, will be the former president’s only criminal trial before the November election. The other three strong indictments against him in other jurisdictions have unfortunately been delayed by a corrupt judge, a foot-dragging Supreme Court, and a district attorney’s questionable conduct in an already complex case. This, combined with Bragg’s excellent pretrial briefing, has substantially strengthened the case for this prosecution. It is important to American democracy that Trump be forced to defend at least some of his alleged criminal conduct before a jury of his peers in advance of Election Day. [ ... ] Shortly before the 2020 election, Trump wanted to kill a story about his alleged affair with Stormy Daniels, an adult film actress. So he allegedly directed his longtime fixer Michael Cohen to pay off Daniels, through a shell company, for her silence. Afterward, Trump funneled $420,000 to Cohen in installments. But he allegedly concealed the payments by listing them as legal expenses for a retainer that did not exist. Last year, I was uncertain whether this scheme, while sordid, rose to the level of a felony offense. I am now convinced that, if proved that he took these actions, it surely does. The falsification of business records is, by itself, a misdemeanor under New York law, but it’s a felony when it’s done with the “intent to commit another crime or to aid or conceal the commission thereof.” In his indictment, Bragg claims that Trump lied about the payments with the intent to violate election law, which is what elevates the crime to a felony. Initially, I was suspicious of this theory; what election law, exactly, was the former president attempting to violate? The district attorney’s initial statement of facts was hazy on this crucial point, raising the possibility that he couldn’t tie the underlying fraud to a state or federal statute. Turns out he could. Bragg has argued, convincingly, that the former president intended to violate at least two election laws—one state, one federal. First, Bragg asserted that Trump and Cohen ran afoul of the Federal Election Campaign Act by making unlawful campaign contributions (in the form of a payoff) at the direction of a candidate (that is, Trump).

As a criminal defendant, Trump has to be in court for the trial. And except for holidays, court will be in session four days a week.

So Trump will be in Lower Manhattan quite a bit for the next couple of months. The New York County (Manhattan) Courthouse is at 100 Centre Street. And he owns a major property at 40 Wall Street (modestly called The Trump Building) where he might occasionally be seen. Google Maps puts the walking distance between the two locations at 0.8 miles (1.28 km). So if you're tempted to exercise your First Amendment right to express your opinions to Trump...

[spade-riddles]

Do you think Levi is Kaylor child?

I do not think that Karlie and Taylor have a child named Levi. Here is why ...

Karlie did an interview when she was pregnant with her first child, and she specifically said that she was going to keep her child private. She then proceeded to call the paps while wearing a necklace that said 'Levi' on it after he was born. My recollection is that the first time she wore it few people noticed it, so the next day she wore a larger version of the necklace/name. Keep in mind these were the typical staged pap walks on the streets of NYC. So she wanted this necklace seen.

I do not pay enough attention to the pics we see of the kid(s) to give a proper opinion on whether we are always seeing the same child or not. We never really see the second child so I will leave him out of this. But Karlie also made sure that the first child (Levi) was seen by the paps staring right at the camera. The photos were not blurred out like this one in the DailyMail:

There is no way those photos of his face (not blurred) get published unless she wanted Levi's face to be seen. She also shows Levi quite a bit (pap walks, ads, instagram), which is the exact opposite of what she said she would do in her interview. So I have a hard time believing Levi is her child. I could see him being Jerk's child (although Jerk does not seem very affectionate with him).

Levi and another small child (assumed to be Karlie's second son) were sitting on Charles and Sheryl Kushner's laps at the Karlie street sign ceremony. The Kloss family appeared to ignore both children and the Kushners (based on the photos we saw). So I lean toward these two boys being Jerk's and Mikey's kids. The Levi name was definitely chosen to connect to Jerk's family.

I know plenty of people do not agree with me, but do we really think that Taylor and Karlie are letting their kids sit on the Kushner criminal parents laps at that ceremony? We don't believe anything else that Karlie and Jerk try to sell (dating, engagement, marriage, etc). Karlie keeps her personal life private, yet Levi is all over the internet. So why would we believe this public display of her family?

Of course I also have a hard time ignoring that Taylor wore pink on the night Jerk announced a baby's birth (presumed to be Levi's but the caption was generic),

as well as all of this:

I respect those who disagree with this, and it is a bit of a touchy subject.

[gen15gg]

okay SO! these r a bunch of creloise fic ideas i came up w on the train ride home from uni bc am i not jus a girl who overthinks? w all the time in the world?? on a train???

so fair warning this is a LOT, but at least ik the old man sittin next to me was fairly entertained so u win some u lose some i suppose lmao 😭

- i def wanna see more 2000s or 90s AUs cuz duhhh i would love a little line ab them havin specific ringtones for each otha on their silly little flip phones (id cry if i saw this)

- OR OR OR clubbing scenes, meeting on the UNDERGROUND OMG!!!

(the trains that go under ldn for the americans idk if u lot kno what it is sorry, it’s like NYC subway??😭)

.. anyways cressida could always notice eloise reading something and tries to talk to her by either reading the same book or one journey jus offering the book “emma” (LIKE IN THE SHOW GUYS?!?) as a good read before she gets off on her stop OMDS and/or eloise always noticing cressida’s fashionable-ness for a fùckin 9-5 (yes cressida would be giving office siren absolutely) and maybe if the tables are turned, cressida is reading and eloise notices this and suddenly sparks up conversation bc she simply cannot shut her mouth (and replaying all the times she’s seen cressida in new outfits like the montage scene of anne hathaway in the devil wears prada LMFAO) n every tube journey they encounter each otha on, they go back n forth on their opinions on which eva book they’re reading atm OMGGGG n maybe on valentines one of them gives the otha a rose or a book before they get off SOMEONE RESTRAIN ME MY BRAIN IS WORKING OVERTIME 😭

- would also love to see more modern AUs in general like yes i loooove seein this pairing in different time periods, adapting to the ideas and limitations of that era MWAH to everyone who has been writing these i love you - let me kiss u on yo fùckin cranium MWAH !

- imagine a 1920s jazz girls creloise like idk who would be a jazz singer (maybe cressida??), havin them be in ‘flapper girl’ attire.. IDK id jus love to imagine them in that environment perhaps smoking from those thingies that held the cig itself

- not to stress this too much (i am) but i wanna see them as a 90s or def a 2000s famous pairing!! like both are singers!! i mean cmon cressida would hav an unbelievable stage presence w her amazing outfits we’ve seen in the show itself and eloise would be more punk-ish i suppose!!

or eloise remains a singer and cressida is a model?! but in both situations it’s like they despiseeee each otha or at least eloise does of cressida bc of her overall appearance and the message her looks send (i.e. similar to bridgerton era blah blah expectations etc)

but then they hav to date as a publicity stunt to push down rumours that they hate each otha or maybeeeee penelope is a news outlet they’re trying to get the jump on by going ‘noooo we don’t hate each otha we’re actually dating!’ (they do hate each otha but they fall in love obvs)

or penelope is one of their publicists and has set this up??.. or they’re forced to write a song together IDK this can go any which way but i was inspired by the song “maybe” by emma bunton as a song cressida would DEFINITELY sing OR “let me see” by Morcheeba

man idk Cressida jus gives me the vibe that in this AU she could be equivalent to kylie minogue or a brit pop icon of sorts regardless or Kate Moss if u went w the cressida as a model version AND MAYBE ELOISE AS A PHOTOGRAPHER??? IDK!!!!

- also NEED NEED. NEEEEED. a MR n MRS SMITH AU OF THEM!!!! like omdssss

(im referencing the original film w angelina jolie but go wild if one were to write this, which most like won’t happen but oh well 😭)

but omds the tension that would be between them both !!!! like eloise fits the playful goofy but intelligent character of mr smith, whilst i can most definitely see cressida in the role of mrs smith! trying her utmost best to keep things calculated and goin according to plan but (as u kno if you’ve watched the film) eloise will ruin this calculated streak she’s got 😭 OMDSSSS i can jus imagine their banter as they fight

- uhhh fuck me a surfer AU??? why not atp i’d love to see it where either teaches the otha to surf?? or it’s one where eloise is the one travelling around instead of colin (lmao #white girl goin on holiday to find herself) or w him as this would be a modern AU n she meets cressida somewhere in the mediterranean (bc cressida was sent away by her father) n yk sparks and whatnot ensue 🤭

or omds a rendition of that mermaid movie ‘aquamarine’ ??

- YES OMG A MERMAID AU GODDAMN WAITTTTT ELOISE ESCAPING PATRIARCHAL EXPECTATIONS BY PRETENTDING TO BE A PIRATE AND FALLING IN LOVE W MERMAID CRESSIDA OR THEYRE BOTH PIRATES??? LIKE ANNE BONNY AND MARY READ!!!

- jus had the biggest brain moment on this train ride me thinks… flowershop AU..

specifically an ‘imagine me & you’ AU. cressida had married some man ?? could be Debling to get her parents off her back but then falls in love at first sight of eloise the florist as she walks down the aisle to get married

omg i’m literally jus askin for creloise as ‘imagine me & you’ bc why not i think it’s adorable 😭

ANYWAYS!!! that’s ova but if anyone has any more ideas i’d love to hear them bc i hav serious brain rot from this pairing who will prolly not get togetha </3

[sw-33-ts-stuff]

Killer in NYC

Tara Carpenter X Reader

Part 2

Tara POV

We were all sitting at the table joking around when our phones rang.

My eyes widened seeing Carly's lifeless face staring into the camera next to a bloodied Ghostface mask. The panic rose and I began looking around in my bag as everyone else at the table was silent. I couldn't find my inhaler and looked to Sam with wide eyes as I felt myself hyperventilate.

"Where's her inhaler?!" Evan looked around confused.

"Who has asthma?"

Chad stood next to me making sure I sat up straight as Mindy dove into my bag dumping it on the table looking for my pump. My vision beginning to blur.

"Wait Tara has asthma?" Evan began freaking out.

Sam began dialing 9-1-1 when a hand pressed a blue pump to my lips. I inhaled placing my hand on their wrist and felt the air beginning to come back into my lungs. (Y/e/c) eyes peered into mine concerned.

"You good?" I nodded thankful.

"Why do you have an extra inhaler?" Mindy said skeptically. The taller girl shrugged giving me the pump.

"Thought it might come in handy." She turned going back to work. Everyone eyed her before turning back to me.

"Tara.." I hugged Sam feeling myself tear up.

Its happening again.

.

.

.

We had all gathered at our apartment. On the couch Mindy and Chad, standing in the corner was Kirby.

"Well at least we made it to the sequel." Chad turned to his twin incredulous.

"Seriously?" The girl shrugged.

"Uncle Randy would be proud. But we need suspects and at the top of the list we have" Mindy got a napkin and began writing "the love interests" she glanced at Sam and I "or family of the deceased. In the second Stab the killers were revealed to be the mother and the best friend but seeing as this is still a re-quel or legac-sequel I wouldn't put it past them to try and come up with a plot twist."

Kirby stared. "Is it me or does she sound excited about this?"

Sam sighed pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I was really hoping I'd never have to go through this shit again."

"This is bullshit!" Chad ranted standing up. "I don't wanna get stabbed again."

"News flash genius no one does but with our luck...it's even more likely we die this round."

"FUCK!"

"So what do we do?" I felt my mouth move before my brain even processed what I'd said.

"First we have to act natural, chances are we're the core of this movie and any outsiders could potentially be the new killer. We're also gonna need to do some recon." Mindy looked at Sam and I. "Starting with potential love interests."

"Evan wouldn't-"

"David wouldn't-"

"To be fair Sam your last boyfriend was the killer." Sam glared at Chad who put his hands up in surrender. "Sorry but.."

"It's true." I sighed. "And Amber was my best friend so we really can't just trust anyone."

"So..." Mindy smirked. "Who are we stalking first?"

.

.

.

Mindy, Chad and I were sitting across the street outside the coffee shop watching Evan and Y/n. Mindy peering through binoculars as Chad was scarfing down French fries.

"This feels weird."

Mindy shrugged. "Weirder than being one of the new final girls to a real life horror movie?"

I quirked an eyebrow. "How do you know I'm one of the new final girls?"

Chad chuckled as Mindy smirked. "Cause you're still a virgin."

I felt my jaw drop. "How do you know I haven't had sex?!"

Mindy scoffed. "Oh please it's obvious in the way Evan keeps dropping hints at every party." She dropped her voice. "Hey babe let's head upstairs...this party's too noisy wanna go somewhere more quiet?" She wiggled her eyebrows.

Chad started making kissing faces at me as the two continued laughing I rolled my eyes turning back to the coffee shop.

"Fuck the both of you."

3rd Person POV

Tara's phone chimed the text coming from an unknown number.

Never split up.

She looked at Chad and Mindy still preoccupied with their teasing, both growing serious when she showed them the message. They'd looked around before looking back to the coffee shop only seeing Y/n cleaning the counter.

"Suspicious." Mindy muttered.

"That doesn't prove anything."

Mindy shrugged standing up with her brother.

.

.

.

A few blocks over Kirby and Sam were watching her boyfriend David who was sitting in the library taking notes. They sat in Sam's car as time had passed.

Kirby trying to use her Bluetooth as she played with the car radio making Sam smack her hand.

"Seriously?!"

"What? This is boring and I need something to pass the time!" Sam scoffed.

"Sorry people dying is so boring." Kirby glared.

"Technically this shit started with you so how do I know you're not having some psychotic break and the actual murderer?!"

"Fuck you Kirby!" The girl pushed her in her seat.

"No fuck you Sam this shit all started because of your bat shit crazy daddy!" She pushed back and soon the girls were fighting in their seats the car rocking as they did so. A door handle was snatched open as Sam was pulled out Kirby's nose bleeding as she went to apply pressure.

"Fuck you Sam you're on your own!"

"Don't come crying to me when you're next!"

Strong arms held Sam down and she'd looked back to find her boyfriend staring at her.

"Not that I'm unhappy to see you but what the fuck is going on?"

Sam sighed trying to think of an excuse. She couldn't trust anyone especially if it meant risking her sisters life.

"We were headed here to study when Kirby freaked out on me." She lied through her teeth.

David hugged the girl. "Sorry babe if it helps I always thought she was a little off...but how about you tell me what's actually wrong?"

Sam froze still in his embrace. "What do you mean?"

"Don't come to me when you're next?" The girl shook her head.

"Can we just drop it please?" The man looked into her eyes concern filling his features.

"Ok. Why don't you come into the library with me while I finish my assignment and then we can grab a bite?"

The girl shook her head once again. "I need to get home and check on Tara."

His shoulders sagged in disappointment. "Ok I'll see you later then." He went to kiss her but she turned her cheek.

Sam hastily walked to her car heading back to her apartment alone.

She unlocked the door texting Mindy, Chad and Tara, getting her pajamas together before she stepped into the hot shower.

Steam collecting in the bathroom as her phone chimed.

The apartment door creaked open as black boots took calculated steps further into the apartment.

Sam's phone rang again as she began washing her hair eyes closed, a deep sigh leaving her body as she fell deep in thought.

Chad and Mindy had gone across the street to check in with the baristas as Tara (who was believed to be invincible apparently) stayed back to watch if anyone would leave when he did.

"Hey uhh y/n right?" The girl looked up nodding.

"What's up Chad?" The boys eyebrows furrowed.

"How do you know my name?" The girl narrowed her eyes.

"Maybe I stereotyped you and actually got it right. Or I have ears and you're one of the loudest customers ever. Or I have eyes and I noticed you're one of Tara's friends, or maybe I have common sense and can read the name tag on your shirt." The girl glanced at his blue polo his eyes following where low and behold his name tag was. He chuckled sheepishly as his sister laughed.

"So I'll ask again what's up Chad?"

"Where's Evan?" Mindy asked.

"In the bathroom." Chad nodded.

"Mind if I check?" The girl tilted her head to the side.

"Is there a reason you're asking a lot of questions?" The boy puffed out his chest as his sister spoke up again.

"There a reason you're not answering them?" The two stared at each other before the (y/h/c) pointed.

"Down the hall to the right." She went back to counting the money in the register.

Chad and Mindy walked to the bathroom, the body builder going in by himself slowly opening the door.

"Evan?" Chad opened one door slowly.

Empty.

He went to the next stall again opening the door slowly.

Empty.

He peaked down to see black boots in the last stall praying it was the Tara's scrawny boyfriend.

"Ev-" he was cut off by a scream.

"Dude what the fuck?!" Evan was sat on the toilet phone in hand.

"Shit sorry." Chad closed the door walking back out to Mindy. "He's in there."

The two heard a slam and the doors bell ringing.

"Tara!" They ran out to an empty counter. Y/n standing next to her before they got on her bike.

"Get away from her!" The two were unheard over the motorcycles engine as the bike zoomed down the street.

Y/n swerved through traffic as Tara held tight palms sweating as they raced to her apartment. As soon as the bike stopped Tara ran.

Upstairs Sam had just finished her shower drying off and wiping the mirror before seeing none other than Billy Loomis in her reflection.

"You can't outrun the past kid." She closed her eyes counting to ten before reopening them. The all too familiar Ghostface standing right behind her knife raised and ready to strike when they both heard a scream.

"Sam!" Sam pushed Ghostface as she attempted to run out the bathroom the dark figure grabbing her before she slammed her fist into their abdomen cause them to bend over.

She kicked their head making them fall as she ran.

"Tara!" Her sister came up grabbing her and running out of the apartment. "They're inside the apartment!" The two continued to run before they hit a hard body.

"Woah! Y'all good?" Both Tara and her sister looked to see Y/n disheveled.

Sam's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?"

Y/n held her hands up as Tara spoke.

"She gave me a ride. I panicked when I got a text."

"What was it?" Tara went to her phone showing Sam the picture of her in the shower eyes closed and washing her hair.

Now you see her...

"How do I know she didn't send that?" Sam again glaring at the barista, who scoffed.

"Why would I give her a ride if I sent that?"

"There's always more than one killer!" The (y/h/c) looked at the woman confused.

"What?"

"Sam it wasn't her."

"Tara you don't-"

"I was watching her. She's Evans coworker."

Both heads turned to her as a blush grew over her face.

"She was wiping down the counters at the shop, Chad and Mindy went to find Evan."

"Tara!" Mindy, Evan and Chad ran in, the boy already sizing up y/n. He quickly took off his jacket wrapping it around Sam.

"Are you ok?" Sam nodded eyes still on Y/n who huffed.

"To be fair you're buying the "killer" in your apartment more time to escape so if you want to point fingers and name accomplices you should put yourself at the top of the list."

The six quickly walked over to the apartment , Tara having already called the police who were on the way there, Chad grabbing a nearby lamp turning the corner only to find it empty. The curtains blowing form the open window.

They looked down to see no one.

Y/n chuckled darkly shaking her head.

"I'm out of here. Glad you're ok."

Tara watched the taller girl leave making Mindy look at her with an eyebrow raised.

"So Tara's boyfriend may check out what about yours Sam?" Evans eyebrows shot up.

“Wait I’m a suspect?” Everyone ignored him.

"He was at the library and still is I have his location."

"And what happened with Kirby?"

"We got into a fight."

Mindys head tilted. "About?"

"She called me a psychotic murderer and I broke her nose."

Chads eyes widened as he started grinning. "Hell yeah Sam!" He held his hand up for a high five making everyone stare at him.

"What?"

3rd Person POV

Twenty some minutes later, Kirby was still making the long walk back to her apartment. She pinched her nose attempting to stop the bleeding Samantha fucking Loomis had caused. Fuck!

Fuck her and her crazy fucking father!

Fuck Ghostface and everything to do with Stab.

Just fuck!

Her phone rang and she answered not even bothering to look at the caller ID assuming it was Sam calling to apologize.

"If this is an apology it's gonna take a lot of liquor, food, and begging."

"Oh Kirby don't you know you should never split up in scary movies?"

Her body froze paralyzed with fear. That familiar voice causing a lump to grow in her throat her eyes darting around as she began to walk faster.

"What the fuck do you want from me? Wasn't murdering my friends enough?"

"Now Kirby everyone loves a good sequel and what better way than to bring back a fan favorite? Now how about we play a little game?"

"How about you fuck off?" Ghostface chuckled.

"Wrong answer." From behind a dumpster the cloaked figure went to stab Kirby who ducked making them fall over her. She stepped on their chest knocking the air out of the killer before trying to run to the nearest bar. She was still far from her destination but the woman was determined to live.

A sharp tug on her jacket sent her flying backwards as the masked figure went to stab her. She rolled away trying to crawl when they went to grab her again. Her boot kicking the killer square in the face making it fall slightly off the killers face. Gloved hands went to fix this giving Kirby the opportunity to run.

She began banging on the windows of a coffee shop.

"Help! Help! There's someone trying to kill me!"

The barista looked up pulling the girl inside quickly before trying to lock the door. Hands shaking as Kirby began dialing 9-1-1 and just as the lock was about to be secured Ghostface appeared going to stab her saviors hand. The killer banged on the window once tilting his head slightly before walking around.

The taller girl running to the back to lock that door as well as they went to barge in.

"RUN!" She yelled to the blonde who was still on the phone. Ghostface had pushed the door open forcing the girl down and going to chase Kirby but was stopped by a hand on his ankle. He stabbed the arm attached to it making Y/n yell. She still didn't let go as she tried to help the blonde. They stabbed her shoulder twice before kicking her knocking her unconscious. A mop to the back of their head distracting him. He turned to find Kirby who hit them again and again sending them to the floor. A siren drawing closer making the killer run.

Kirby kneeling down and applying pressure to her new friends wounds as the police burst in.

[sebstan2020]

The King

Chapter 2

Violet is a bad girl at school, not giving a care about her grades that are falling and getting in trouble every week. She smokes, drinks and she's only sixteen. Her mother has had enough of her and doesn't know what to do with her. But when she's forced to go to her mother's employee dinner for the United States Army, she meets the mysterious and handsome General James Barnes.

She is infatuated with him and can't seem to stay away. The closer she gets to him, the more she craves him and soon she finds herself entering a world of darkness, pain and pleasure.

The dinner was in full swing. Small groups of people were scattered around the dining tables; others sat at their named seats with as many as five glasses of champagne already at their names. The bar was heaving with soldiers, ready for a good night. It was a welcome change to see them dressed in smart suits of black, white, and blue, away from the grungy green and brown they wore on a daily basis. The high-ranking staff were here as well, from sergeants to generals, including majors, lieutenants, and colonels. The whole US army of NYC was here tonight. Everyone played an important role in their devotion to their country, and the office staff were just as important as the men fighting for this country. The only odd one out was Violet. She almost felt silly being here, the teenage daughter of an office administrator sitting with men who had seen and heard things that could keep you up at night, wives that had missed their husbands for months of end, generals who had rose up the ranks of the US army to become the leaders they were today. And what was she? A misbehaving girl with a dirty attitude and mouth. 

She sat at the table with her mother and the rest of the office staff. A couple of the other girls brought their husbands along with them, and they were shouting across the table at each other, giggling at the tops of their voices, and slugging down champagne. Violet rolled her eyes at the woman around her. They were nothing but annoying middle-aged women with nothing better to do than gossip about petty women's troubles. Violet prayed she would be nothing like these women when she grew older. No, she wasn’t going to be like them at all. She was going to be fun, spontatinous, and not give two shits about anything in life other than living it the way she wanted to live it. In other words, if she didn’t enter prison by the time she was twenty-five, then what the hell was she doing? 

“So Violet, how’s school? Your mother was telling me you're having some trouble with your grades,” Debra said as she sipped her fourth glass of champagne. If Violet didn’t know any better, it sounded like this woman could take it too far when it came to having a drink. A drink seemed to loosen her tongue, and Violet wasn’t too happy about that. What was worse was that it was obvious her mother had been bitching about her to her work colleagues, saying how terrible she was doing in school, which wasn’t a false fact, but she didn’t need her mother spreading it around like it was the plague. 

She glared over at her mother for a second before plastering on her fakest smile and turning to Debra. "Well, we can’t all be perfect,” she answered, when in fact she wanted to answer with ‘Stay the fuck out of my life’. This was exactly why she didn’t want to come here. 

“You know I know a great tutor; he does amazing work. Our Sally has the best grades in school,” Debra pointed out. Oh yes, of course, her Sally, the daughter she worked so hard for, bought her so much extra tuition to get the best grades in school. That girl probably doesn’t even know what a cigarette is. Oh, how Violet was craving one right now. She was shaking in her chair, hands with a tremor, and the urge to scramble and race outside was getting harder and harder. Every day, she told herself she wasn’t addicted, but perhaps this proved her wrong. Her cigarettes were deep in her bag, and it wouldn’t take her long to go out and quickly smoke. But then the watchful eye of her mother was deeply set on her, and at this point, she didn’t have energy to argue with her. 

But she’d do anything to get away from Debra right now. Any chance for her to brag about how great her children are and to rub it in other parents faces? They were a wealthy family, with her husband working for Wall Street, meaning that Debra didn’t even need to have a job for the family to survive, but she made out that this job was her life. ‘I’d go crazy if I didn’t work. The housewife's life isn’t for me; she’d giggle around others. But she certainly lived up to that name; the diamonds on her wrists and fingers spoke for themselves. They could easily afford the tutor, and it wouldn’t make a dent in their income. How her mother put up with her, Violet would never understand. 

Dinner came shortly, and Violet silently tucked in to the delicious meal. For a six-star hotel, you’d hope the food was outstanding, and it was. A classic French onion soup with cheese and croutons on top, roasted leg of duck with a rich gravy, perfect potatoes and vegetables with a crisp to the outside, and a slice of warm apple pie and custard for dessert. The meal went down well and kept Violet from giving in to her nicotine urges. The shaking had died down now that it had eaten, and she sat back with a sigh as she had to endure more of Debra’s annoying voice. 

“Did you want me to give you a number for the tutor? He’s excellent, our Sally,“ she continued, and Violet had had enough. If she was going to be slagged off in front of everyone at the table, then she definitely needed a smoke. With a grunt and a huff, she stormed from the table, grabbing her clutch, and from behind her she heard the almost sympathetic voice of Debra. 

“Did I upset her?”. 

Violet didn’t care if she would get shouted at later for causing a scene, but she was glad that she did. There was no way Debra was going to speak about her like that. Yes, her grades were falling apart, but Violet didn’t give a shit and probably never would. It was her life, and if she wanted to fail at school, then she would. She prayed to God that her mother wasn’t going to get the number of this so-called fantastic tutor that would give her all A’s. They didn’t have the money for it. Her mother was working enough as it was, and to afford a tutor, she’d most likely have to get a second job. No, even Violet couldn’t put her through that, despite their relationship being fragile at the moment. 

Instead of venturing outside, Violet headed to the bathroom. Luckily, when she went in, it was empty, so she quickly used the bathroom before dumping her bag on the side and fishing for her sin sticks. She glanced in the mirror and grimaced at herself. She looked so different compared to her normal style. She stared at the black dress and wanted to rip it off, which was a stupid idea given she’d have nothing else to put on, so she’d have to endure it for a couple more hours. She could hear in the background someone talking over a microphone and giving some speeches for the guests. It must have been a high-ranking member, so Violet was glad she left at that time. Staring in the mirror, she took a deep breath and stared. 

She wondered what her life would be like if she hadn’t taken this rebellious turn. If she had studied hard and her grades were at the highest level they could be, if she had never met Axel and fallen down the line of smoking, at least she hadn’t resorted to drugs yet. She wasn’t completed fucked. But the drinking and smoking were only the start of something. If she didn’t have anyone to hold her back, to guide her properly, or to implement a little discipline in her life, then she could go anywhere. It was a scary thought—one Violet didn’t really think about until now. The whole talk about tutors and Debra’s precious Sally had spun something in her head, and it made her feel sick. The only cure for that is a cigarette. 

Blowing the breath she was holding out, she flicked her hair over her shoulder and stormed out with pride, a cigarette in her fingers, and a lighter ready to spark and take that first hit that would instantly relax her. She was heading out on a mission. As the door creaked open, the same door opposite opened as well, with a tall man stepping out just as she did. Violet stopped abruptly, nearly crashing into him, and looked up to give him what for, a scowl on her face when she froze. 

She had never seen someone so beautiful, so handsome, and so captivating. He was tall, with dark hair almost to the colour of black but no lighter than chocolate. It was slightly longer for it not to be called short, but not long enough for it to be called long. Strands fell from his head just around his eyes, and the rest was combed back by fingers behind his ears and over his head. It looked like it would glide through the hands and be softer than a baby blanket. His facial hair matched evenly with his hair and covered his jaw and upper lip. It was unusual for army men to have any facial hair, keeping it trimmed when they could unless out at war. 

But what dazzled her the most were his eyes. Pure Persian blue with a slight darkness to them, staring down at her with dark lashes shadowing them. They were both perfect and dangerous. Violet could get lost in them, as if she had been cast a spell by a wizard. There was a rich scent about him—warm and spicy with hints of coolness. He was dressed in an impeccable dark suit of all black, a black shirt and jacket, long pants that fitted him to perfection, and polished black shoes with a bow tie. The spitting image of a gentleman. Violet almost forgot how to breathe for a moment.

“Sorry, are you alright?” He said it politely, his voice smooth and just as rich as his suit or cologne. He was at least six feet, if not a few inches more, and he spoke with a slight authority in his voice. Violet shook herself out of the trance and stepped back, throwing her scowl back on her face. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she almost snapped, exerting her attitude towards him. No one was going to be her boss or make her feel vulnerable. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to nearly knock you over,” he said politely again, and Violet huffed, throwing her hair over her shoulder as if she had total control of this. 

"Well, they do say you should look where you’re going,” she replied, and the man chuckled, standing back, and somehow, by standing back, he looked even taller. “Your right, next time I’ll be more careful,” he nodded. Violet was slightly surprised at his reaction. He expected a little fight from him from a sixteen-year-old girl. Had she hoped he was going to fight back against her? There was a quick silence before the man's eyes averted downward to the carpet. He bent down, his long legs bending and spreading as he reached down and picked up her cigerette, which must have dropped when she nearly crashed into him. He held it delicately between two fingers and held it up. 

“I’m guessing this belongs to you,” he said, raising a brow at her, and Violet stepped forward to snatch it from him. Not her sin stick; she needed that right now! "Yeah,” she said and reached for it, but the man snatched his hand back away from her, and she glared up at him. 

"Hey, give that back; that’s mine,” she ordered. 

“You don’t look old enough to be smoking.”.

“So, why do you care? You don’t know me,” she said, folding her arms across her chest, and the man smirked. 

“No, but it’s my duty to protect people, which means stopping this.” He held the cigerette out again, offering it to Violet, who leaped forward to grab it, but he pulled away again. It was like he was holding a carrot out to a donkey, teasing them to make them walk. 

"Well, mister, you might not know this, but smoking can’t kill you right away; why don’t you come save me in thirty years?”.

“You might be dead by then; it only takes a few of these, and you’ve got cancer,” he warned, and Violet huffed, almost stamping her feet. 

“How old are you?” He asked softly, and she glared up at him. 

“Who wants to know?” She teased back, and he smiled. 

“I won’t tell your parents if that’s what you’re worried about,” he assured, and she scoffed, laughing at him.

“My mom probably knows I smoke anyway, and my dad is probably off stealing something, so he won’t give a shit either,” she shrugged, and the man softened his gaze, a frown forming on his face. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said genuinely, but Violet clicked her tongue against her cheek. 

"Yeah, everyone says that. Now can I have my cigarette back, please?” She held her hand out for it, and the man looked at it before looking back at her. 

“Tell me how old you are first,” he demanded. 

“Sixteen” 

“Who are you here with?” He asked.

“My mom. She works in administration for the office, and she invited me down.”.

“I hope you’re enjoying the dinner. I think there’s going to be a couple more speeches,” he said, and Violet rolled her eyes. What was with all the questions? All she wanted was her sin stick back to go and smoke, and this man was giving her none of it. 

“I would if I didn’t have to sit at that table with all her annoying colleagues. Look, are you going to give me that or not?” She argued, and the man smirked, lifting it up to inspect it before tucking it in the inside of his pocket. 

“You know I have a whole pack in my bag, right?” She smirked at him.

“I know, but at least you have one less now. Seriously, you should stop. You are only sixteen, and you have your whole life ahead of you. Besides, no one wants to kiss a smoker.”.

How dare he! Violet’s jaw dropped in shock, and her eyebrows furrowed in anger. Oh, she was really going to give him what for. Who does this guy think he is, talking to her like that? But as she went to open her mouth and spill out some dirty, offensive words, they never came. He stared down at her, towering over her with his immense height, and she suddenly went shy and intimidated, as if he had this power over her, his eyes holding back her ability to speak. Violet swallowed and took a safety step back from him. 

“I’ve kissed hundreds of boys,” she bragged, despite it being false. She had kissed a couple of guys, but not enough for it to be hundreds. The man chuckled under his breath, as if he straightaway knew it was a lie. 

“What’s your name?” He asked, and Violet looked at him for a moment before speaking. She didn’t have any attitude in her voice—no spiciness, no rebellion. Pure innocence and truthfulness. 

“Violet”.

“Like the flower,” he smiled, and before Violet could ask him his name, a loud eruption of clapping interrupted them, and the man looked ahead of the hallway. 

“I need to go; it was lovely to meet you, Violet,” he said with a certain air to his voice, and he began to walk down the hallway. 

“Hey, you didn’t tell me your name,” she shouted after him. 

“You’ll find out,” he called back, and he was gone. Violet took a breath, her stomach bouncing with all sorts of different feelings, as if she had been on a roller coast. Her shakes were gone, and the sudden urge to smoke had also slid away. Who the hell was that man, and why was he so interesting? Why was he still on her mind? What had he done to her to make her think about him as she walked back to the dinner table?

There was a soft hush around the hall before a man came to the microphone at a small podium. 

“Now I would like to welcome our General of the US Army; he is a former soldier of ours and has done this country great service. I have so much respect for him, and he would like to say a few words. So please give a round of applause to General James Barnes.” The hall erupted in a wave of clapping as a tall man, dressed in an impeccable suit of black with dazzling blue eyes, walked in the most sexy fashion to the podium and stood, shaking his hand with the host of the evening before turning his attention to the crowd. 

“Holy shit”.

Chapter 3

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[rmd-writes]

Sending an ask for nice ask day!!

Noticed we have a lot of similar fandom interests -- if David, Patrick, Carlos, TK, Alex, and Henry were to meet, where would it happen? who would get along the most outside of the pairing?

hello! What a great ask! I love finding people who share multiple fandoms, so hello new friend!!! 💖

Believe it or not, this is something I’ve thought about previously, so strap in.

A while back @blackandwhiteandrose wrote a fic (about how David and TK were friends (if you love both characters, you should read this fic, it’s so good) back when David still lived in NYC. Having read it and discussed it with BWR later, I wholeheartedly agree that they were friends who lost touch after TK moved to Austin. Not immediately though - you know in s1 of SC how David is always on the phone texting? We know that his NYC friends were mostly assholes, so who was he texting? TK.

TK probably got a new phone or deleted all of his NYC contacts when he moved to Austin, so he lost David’s number then too. But maybe he’s scrolling Instagram one day and comes across Alexis’ account or the Rose Apothecary account, or maybe Nancy is laughing hysterically at Moira’s accidental live stream of the conversation about David’s oopsie-daisy and eventually TK gets back in touch with David. They’re both happy now, really happy. Deeply in love, safe and content with who they are as people, happy.

Patrick suggests that he and David make the trip to Austin and David can catch up with TK while they’re there. (There’s probably some kind of sportsball game Patrick would want to watch, idk).

I’m taking liberties now, but bear with me. While they’re in Austin, they go to a restaurant and there’s a fire. Please go read @missgeevious’s absolutely hysterical fic to find out what happens.

Once Patrick gets over his mortification (it’s short lived, David won’t allow it, there are food trucks to visit and proper bbq to be had), they go with TK and Carlos on a tour of Carlos’ favourite food trucks and end up at Franklin’s BBQ, which David wanted to go to because he read about it in an article about FSOTUS.

Carlos raises a brow at David’s seeming insistence on wearing sweaters in the Texas heat, but he’s glad it’s not actually summer or TK might need to put his paramedic skills to work on his friend. There’s a moment when Carlos catches Patrick’s eye as their respective husbands are chatting loudly and gesticulating wildly and there’s a fond resignation in Patrick’s expression that he recognises. One that says, “sometimes I can’t believe that I chose him but I’m so glad every day that I did.” Carlos feels that way about TK too.

When they make it to Franklin’s the line is long and Carlos notices the presence of private security officers in suits - unusual for somewhere like Franklin’s. The reason for it becomes apparent when they realize that Alex, Henry, Nora and June are ahead of them in line. They’d come to Texas for a long weekend at the lake house. It’s David who recognises them first - Alexis used to have a giant crush on Prince Henry, she’d met him once before at a party on a yacht (Pez dragged Henry to the party), and in the way that only Alexis can, had come home and huffed that Henry must not be interested in women, “because, David, he, like, barely even looked at me and I was wearing that sparkly Balenciaga!” (Little did she know that she was correct. “I knew it!” she proclaimed when news broke of the emails, before she’d gone all teary eyed once the enormity of what had happened to Alex and Henry had hit her).

Turns out that the world is both too big and ridiculously small - Carlos and June had taken a class together at UT, even worked on a group assignment together. When June comes over to say hi to Carlos, they end up all sitting together: David, Patrick, TK, Carlos, Alex, Henry, June and Nora. They share their food and laugh so much and more than one other patron does a double take at the ridiculous level of hotness sitting at their tables.

David gets along surprisingly well with Nora - she reminds both him and Patrick of Stevie, in a way. Carlos and Henry become fast friends and it’s not long before he and Alex are talking in Spanish about their favourite foods as well. David, TK and Alex - in an uncoordinated attack - separately try to steal food off their respective partners’ plates only to be met with loud protests, followed by triumph, because their partners never really say no. There’s laughter when they realise what’s happened simultaneously around the table.

They sit there talking and laughing and eating until they realise that the sunlight is fading and they’ve been there for hours now, simply enjoying the company and revelling in feeling happy, and safe, and free.

[oftengruntled]

Anyone remember Gregor the overlander? Good book series, at least as far as rose-colored glasses go. Suzanne Collins wrote it.

Anyway I was at work and one of the final scenes of the final book wormed its way into my brain

The whole premise of the series is that there is a Secret World underground but specifically under nyc with Big Animals including rats and bats and bugs and all that

Relevant to this is that bats and underground people keep forming warrior's bonds with each other. As does our mc, Gregor, with the bat Ares.

Anyway fast forward a lot (but still not enough that Gregor is anywhere near 18) the rats and the humans are fighting a war against each other. The bats are allies of the humans.

Gregor and Ares get into a fight with the big boss rat because Prophecy, the final moments of which include ares and Gregor holding hand and claw, Gregor plunging his sword into the rat, and the rat clawing at both Gregor and Ares.

Gregor wakes up in the hospital after this to discover the war was won by the humans. The rats were defeated including the big bad Gregor fought, but Ares died. On his bedside is ares' claw, stained red with dried blood. When the medics recovered Gregor, they found that in Ares' death, his blood had clotted their hands together. They had to cut his claw off just to get Gregor to the infirmary, then soak his hand in warm water, all to finally separate the two.

Idk maybe it's the haze of childhood memory but I find that beautiful. That even in death, even beyond rigor mortis, the two were so sure of their bond that they could only be truly separated (relatively) long after the death of one. Maybe I'm a sentimental.

Ares had a former bond with a prince of the land, Henry. He let Henry die to save Gregor, which would have meant banishment, had Gregor not [done something i forget what exactly]. Ares, as far as memory serves, strove to nothing else than to keep Gregor alive, to keep his bond. Ares died making sure he wouldn't lose another bond, and in his death strengthened their bond even further.

Does that many any sense? Ignore this if it doesn't.

[moominofthevalley]

Sempervirens

If all else fails, write some letters.

emily rose

teen | wc: 1.1k | cw: mentions of grief

a/n: first drabble of 2024. sorry it took so long. hope you enjoy ♡ banner credits from airidescence

It’s been ten years and I still don’t know where to put all this grief.

Uncle Tommy suggested I see a shrink, so I told him to fuck off. I promised him I’d write these stupid letters instead. Journaling, mindfulness, yoga – all that does nothing for me. This shit better work. So…here’s a list of things in my life you never got to see.

I stopped doing soccer right after you passed. I’m sorry.

I know even when you were here I had horrible grades. But I made it. I graduated high school. I got into college, worked my ass off, and somehow became the youngest person in NYC to make the Homicide Division. I hope you’re proud of me.

…But it’s brutal. Captain Thompson is just cruel. Tommy met her at a few holiday parties and I don’t know. There’s no concrete evidence yet, but I know there’s something up with her. And the rest of the NYPD. I’ll move on to something better eventually.

By the way, Tommy misses you too. A few weeks ago, we looked through the attic and found a bunch of old photo albums and VHS tapes. We spent all day looking through them. There was a picture of us sitting on your ‘Smoke Couch.’ The black leather one in our old living room. It still reeks of cigars.

My head hurts writing this. Me and Tommy still have nothing for you. No evidence, no lead. Not any fingerprints. Even the files have nothing. I’m so sorry. There has to be something. You’ve been gone ten years and all that I have left of you are old photos and some beat-up jackets.

You need justice. I need answers.

We miss you so much. I’m going to stop writing before I throw up.

Always surviving, Emily Rose 09/10/18

* * * *

I had a fluffernutter sandwich this morning and thought of you.

Don’t know why I love it so much. I probably have a dozen cavities by now. I’m sorry it’s been a while since my last letter…a lot has passed. Anyway–some life updates as promised.

I quit the NYPD. Are you surprised? I found so much shit - probably enough to fire every cop in my precinct - but HR turned on me. So I left. I spent two weeks moping, just bartending at the Drunk Tank until Tommy made me chat with an old friend of his. Mafalda. I think you knew her too. It’s so much better at the agency. There’s this guy named Luke who does all the computer stuff for us. He’s pretty sick. He lost his mom around the same time I lost you. And there’s a forensic analyst who occasionally works with us, Ruby. I know you were never much of a gossip, but they just started dating. They’re cute together. You’d like them.

Also, I got rid of that stupid leather couch you loved. It was all ripped up and probably had mold in it. And it smelled like absolute shit. Smoke and Horse Creek. Yuck. Uncle Tommy and I spent a whole day looking for a new couch. I landed on this velvet green one with a fancy fringe at the bottom. I can already hear you calling me bougie right now.

They say this in movies, but I didn’t expect life to change so fast. I have a dog now. Twilight. I found her at some deli during an investigation. (Everything’s fine now, don’t worry). She’s adorable. I woke up this morning with her head in my arms, staring at me with her big brown mopey eyes. I love her so much.

You know, it’s annoying funny how people enter your life and stay there. I don’t think I’m complaining this time. His name is Trystan Thorne and you’d love him. Uncle Tommy does, but I think it’s because he buys him fancy donuts every morning. I wish you could meet him. I barged into his penthouse one day and now we’re partners. Isn’t that weird? He’s infuriating, but it’s nice to have him around. Don’t tell him I said that. I told him some stories about you today and it was so nice to talk about you. I know I introduced you to him the last time we saw you.

Finally, some good news. We might have something for you. Big V. I told Tommy and Mafalda about her and they both think there might be a chance she did it. I hate that it’s taken so long to come up with just one possible lead. But I’d do anything to know what happened to you. I hope you know that.

I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you more. I miss you so much. Here’s to fifteen years without you.

Always surviving, Emily Rose 10/08/23

* * * *

It’s only been a few months since my last letter and so much has happened. Trystan was put on trial for a murder he didn’t commit. We had to fly half the team to Drakovia as a hail mary. Ended up playing lawyer for a few minutes. It was weird.

I messed up so many times. Trystan and I fought over something we both knew the answer to. Sebastyan…Fuck. Vasili is dead. Every time I remember that look in his eye, I want to throw up. My head hurts. It’s 3 AM and I can’t sleep.

Trystan is sleeping right beside me. He’ll never admit it, but he drools in his sleep. I love him so much. He always listens to me talk about you. I want to bite him sometimes. I keep imagining all the dinners and talks we could’ve had, just the three of us. You could’ve told him all of your stupid jokes - like the one about eating a clock.

Tomorrow is my twenty-ninth birthday. Tommy told me he had something planned. I bet you ten bucks it’ll be a party at the Drunk Tank. I remember growing up, you guys would spend the entire night decorating the apartment with balloons. I hope Tommy isn’t doing that this year.

You’re here everywhere I go. I was doing laundry earlier and saw one of Tommy’s button-downs that used to be yours. It still smelled like you. I make coffee just like you did - black. I have your small, bulbous nose. I took a train to Montauk and thought of you.

I hate that your life was taken from me. But I will find you at the end of mine. I love you, Dad. Come visit me sometime? Please.

Always living, Emily Rose 3/31/24

* * * * I’ve missed writing. Fun fact, this was originally going to be called ‘someday, anything.’ Glad I didn’t go with that! I wrote this all in a day after I found the most devastating YouTube comment and just had to write something. Also, if you didn’t notice the start of the 2nd letter is a little reference to this fic. Anyway - there’s definitely more writing coming from me soon...Hope you enjoyed this angst xx

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[legionnaireslover]

Same old, same old...

And in that light I give you Gator's latest -

Rinse and repeat.

BTW: That is a VERY skewed POV of the series "Eric". Written (supposedly) by someone who obviously was trying to curry favour with Gator by following THE NARRATIVE very closely and cherry picking aspects of the series tha might fit (if you squint).

But...

BC doesn't have a "problematic" marriage - at all. He's someone who has declared his love and admiration for his wife many, MANY times and they have 3 children.

Sophie isn't "Cassie" in any way. She is a creative, artistic person, who has said BC is a wonderful partner.

BC also has said many times, that his job is just a job - his family is his top priority. There have been many reports of him being with his family and he purposely chooses projects on how they impact his family.

Adam is NOT a "talentless friend". He is a successful producer and a close friend to BC. One of his closest.

BC's parents aren't "problematic". BC is very close to his parents and they are close to him.

BC doesn't "solve his problems with alcohol and drugs". That's just Hater narrative stuff. People who work around him have often praised him for his dedication to the job and say he is incredibly lovely to work with.

The main message of the series ISN'T DRAWN FROM BC'S LIFE! It was written by Abi Morgan who pitched the idea to BC in hopes he would accept it. BC wasn't forced to do this against his will. And if the Haters had watched the promos for Eric, they'd have seen that BC reiterated MANY times how he LEFT THE WORK BEHIND when he went home to his living family while filming Eric.

Gator is showing everyone how she hasn't seen very much Eric promo (you know, the "cleanse" and all! LOL!). BC mentioned his family many, MANY times (in almost EVERY interview in print and on audio tape).

And does this look like a man "on the verge of a nervous breakdown "???

There were PLENTY of times BC laughed and smiled during the promos. There were also plenty of times when he was serious and thoughtful. "Eric" covers some pretty intense themes. BC's behaviour was entirely appropriate at all times.

Maybe the Haters would know this if they had watched the videos, read the interviews and listened to the audio interviews.

But they didn't because they were sooooo scared of hearing him talk about his kids and how tightly he hugs them, how he calls Sophie "the love of his life" and how he brought practice puppets home to hone his puppetry skills on his sons.

BTW: Sophie seems to be currently very busy working on her project "Salt of the Earth" which might explain why she wasn't with him for promos for Eric.

And BC wasn't at LL in NYC because he was in LA doing promos for Eric. Kind of hard being in two places across a continent at the same time!

And of course, the Haters aren't going to support "The Roses"... that's why we call the "haters"! Unless they perceive him as someone following THEIR NARRATIVE they really, REALLY don't like him or his work very much! Some "fans"!

[docholligay]

What would be your dream race? Real or made up.

Hm, I mean, I would love to run a LOT of the world ones: London I put in for the ballot every year, I would really really love to run the London Monuments half, but I haven't put in for the ballot for it--my grandmother has said she'll help me pay to run London if I get in, but a half marathon is not impressive to her ahaha, and London is the only marathon she gives a shit about that's not Boston (I cannot qualify for Boston)--but someday if I have the free cash I'll probably put in for the monuments half.

Someday, SOMEday, I'll run the Marathon du Medoc, which has oysters and wine and steak and shit along the way, and has people throw up all the time, because it also has a rule I VERY much support: you have to be able to run the marathon in 6:30. That's not crazsy at all, that's only a 14:50 pace, BUT, if you're stopping at everything, as a practical matter you have to have a fair amount of cushion time.

So as a practical matter I'd want to make sure I could run a marathon in a 10 minute mile. That DOES NOT sound impressive. Until it's like, mile 20. (Seriously, if I drew London tomorrow my strategy would be 'survive'. Until beeb is in klindergarten, i don't have the time to train for a marathon. Cutoff for london is a 15 minute mile, I would come up with a run/walk strategy to survive the thing so I didn't DNF)

There are plenty I WOULD run: Paris, Tokyo, I do put in for Chicago, NYC, but those 3 above are probably my "If you said I could run whatever" choices. On the ground right now, whole trip being paid for it would be the Monuments half, because I know I can run a half without trouble. And I LOVE running through cities, especially major cities.

Now, if I had a shit ton of money and I could put on my own race, so looking forward to making everyone SO mad at me:

The Kawaii Ass Bitch Magical Girl Women's Run!

There would be the 5k, 10k, and Half.

There would be a drawing to win a Tokyo Marathon Package with guaranteed entry for the racers. This is, last I looked, worth about 6k.

If you run the 5k, you get one entry, if you run the 10k, you get two entries, if you run the half, you get three.

Anyway, also along the course I would have some cool stuff! At the start of the 10k/Mile 6ish, I would have a bunch of kids in the local band playing some magical girl themes and the like (I would pay them) and at the 5k start/the last 3ish miles for everyone else, I would have a big arch that would be all decorated and everything, and as you run through, there are speakers playing different attacks and power ups and the like from different magical girl properties. There's a spot on the course I'm thiniking of where you would have to go through a tunnel, I light it all up with those LED rolls so it's like a transformation for you.

Maybe before every start the countdown to the start gun would be Zettai Unmei, that sounds fun to me.

Anyway, the last stretch before the finish line would be playing the outers (read: harumichi) transformation music, and I would SOMEHOW figure out how to have fans blowing either fake or real rose petals, depending on the permits I could get ahaha.

Because it would be putting you up to run a marathon, it would presume you are of the athletic quality to run a marathon, at least potentially. So the cutoff times would be as follows. THEY ARE AGGRESSIVE FOR MOST PEOPLE'S TASTES.

5k: 30 minutes

10k: 1 hour 3 minutes

Half: two hours fifteen minutes

If you don't cross the finish line in that time, your name isn't in the randomizer.

Why? I get fucked every time I run the run to the pub by a bunch of 10k slow walkers in the last goddamn mile or so, walking four abreast for funsies. By the time I hit these people, the 10k has been started for AN HOUR AND A HALF. The draw prize is a place in the Dublin marathon, pretty much like what I'm suggesting above. I am bitter about this. I am bitter about fucking slamming into a bunch of people who could not fucking finish the Dublin and killing me when I am at the toughest point of the race, for me. I would hope this would encourage people who want to walk, to walk somewhere else. You can all think I am a villain, and that is fucking fine. There are some years the people who won did not even RUN the race. This INFURIATES me. Hate me! It's cool!

Also there's beer at the end I hate a fucking race without beer at the end.

[lady-rose-moon]

My darling || Loki x Reader || 18+ ||

Just a small thing to split up The Selection's posts!

Masterlist

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Warnings: smut, dirty talk

Summary: you knew you had fucked up, you knew it and you enjoyed it

The glare you received from across the room was exhilarating. Your thighs squeezed together as you felt the intensity of the glaring increase tenfold as your attention became minimally engaged in conversation with a man to your left. The gaze from across the room travelled from your breasts which were practically free of all restrictions to the cocktail dress you were wearing. Wrong colour. Red. Green was what you were supposed to wear.

As you laughed along with the man to your left, you felt the air change. It became thick with what you knew was increased jealousy looming over the faceless people dancing around at the party. You smiled despite the change and lifted your drink to your lips, dragging out the motion of drinking it like a shot for the glaring person's annoyance.

"So where does a pre'y lady like yeself come from?" the man to your right asked, his voice slurred with alcohol as he nursed a martini in his hand, "ye sure as 'ell don' look like yer from 'ere!"

"Up north!" you called over the music, throwing your head back and taking a shot, your legs unfolding for a brief moment but you sensed the crack of irritation from across the room, "what about yourself?"

"From righ' here, missy!" the man replied with an easy smirk, "NYC born an' rais'd, me!"

You released a noncommittal 'ah' before ordering another drink and smiling flirtatiously at the barman. Just then, a gentle hand slipped around your waist and you were half convinced that it was the drunken man but that was firmly disproved when you looked up and saw your boyfriend; Loki.

You took a sip of your drink, your eyes firmly locked on the sharp jawline of the man holding you and how its clenching signalled to you that you were in trouble but you loved it. His emerald eyes dropped to meet yours once his hand was curled around a glass of wine.

"What do you think you're doing, pet?" Loki growled, his voice sultry and angered. His eyes drove into yours, seeing into your very soul as if you were just someone in the chair and he had access to all of your thoughts and feelings, your deepest desires. "I thought you were mine?"

You squared your shoulders, raising your chin, challenging the God. "I am allowed to have fun, Loki. Are you preventing me from having fun?" you asked, a satisfied smirk rising to your lips when you saw that he was slightly surprised.

"Of course not, pet," Loki replied easily, languidly taking a sip of his wine before meeting your eyes again, "I simply do not admire the one I am courting to be eyeing up other men as if they are worth more than the God they are senselessly fucked by each night."

A deep blush rose to your cheek and you took another sip of your liquid courage, biting your lip as you stared up into his eyes. Your heart was thumping in your chest and you hoped that Loki only considered it to be the thunderous beats of the music.

"I am merely having fun, Loki," you responded moments later, one of your fingers trailing up Loki's arm and resting on his tie over his all-black suit.

"I'll show you true fun, you slut," Loki growled, leaning in to nip at your neck before grabbing your hand and dragging you away from the party, into the hallway and around a corner, where the thump thump of the music was still prominent but no-one lingered.

Once assured you were alone, Loki crashed his lips to yours and began to tug down your panties, his need for you overcoming any of his usual spectacle of foreplay. His slender fingers made contact with your clit and you whined, rolling your fingers desperately against his fingers to try and get any friction from his touch.

"Lokiii," you whimpered, eyebrows pulled together and need building up in your core as your pussy became wetter from the stimulation of Loki's talented fingers.

Loki glared at you, nipping at your neck as he unzipped his fly and nudged his cock against your throbbing cunt. "So wet," he growled, his breath fanning over the sensitive skin of your neck, "is that for me or for the man back there that you deemed to surpass me?"

"Only for you," you called with a pathetic whine, your hips reaching forward in an attempt to lure Loki into sinking his cock inside you and satisfying your lust for him.

His eyes bore into yours before his lips attached to yours again, the clack of teeth against teeth indicating that this was not a sensual, cherished fuck; it was a fuck that Loki was going to give you to show you who you belong to, you knew this as Loki's hardened length finally slid into your desperate channel.

You released a moan and rolled your head back against the wall as you enjoyed the weight of Loki's cock inside you. He was so hot and you needed this fuck, you needed this reminder that you belonged to him. It aroused you to see him so protective of you.

As Loki began to move, you smirked at the relieved exhale that the God released. You admired him for his power to reduce you to a puddle but you knew that you did the same for him just the same. "Y/N," he moaned, one of his hands grabbing your leg and throwing it around his waist, sinking deeper into your channel as he did, "faen, you have no idea, kjaere, no idea how much I wished to fuck you in front of that cunt who thought about taking you back to his room."

"Wouldn' have gone," you moaned, your mind only half-listening to what Loki was saying as his cock pumped in and out of your desperate pussy, "wouldda stayed with you!"

Loki cooed and cupped your cheek with his free hand, his hips slapping against your own more violently and his smirk only widened at the blissful moan you released at the feeling. "Look at you," he whispered, the sound of skin on skin and the rustle of his clothes being the only thing heard in the hallway, "you're barely even listening to me."

"Listenin'," you moaned, your brows pulled together as that blissful end began to make itself known over the horizon of pleasure, "pr'mise!"

Loki chuckled and leaned forward again, peppering kisses down your neck and nipping your skin occasionally as he moaned in bliss at the squeeze of your cunt around his cock. His free hand dropped from your cheek and began to violently circle your clit, his eyes returning to boring into your soul, "you will cum when I tell you to."

"Yes," you whispered obediently, your hands raking down Loki's back as you moaned and enjoyed the pleasure of ramming his cock inside you, "will, pr'mise!"

The orgasm you knew was coming had to be help off until Loki said so but you knew that would be impossible with the thrill of Loki's cock now ramming into your g-spot, making you see stars and ripping so many loud moans from your mouth that Loki was half tempted to use his magic to take away your voice so as to not alert the guests but as he reached his own end, he found that he did not care.

"Who do you belong to?" he demanded, thrusting deep into you and his fingers swiping powerful circles around your clit.

"You," you whimpered.

"I couldn't hear you, pet," Loki growled, his teeth nippng your ear and tugging the skin.

"You!"

"Louder!"

"You, Loki, youuu!" you cried, trying so hard to prevent your orgasm from hitting at the dominance your boyfriend was giving off.

"Cum, darling," the man sneered and you needn't be told again as your orgasm ripped through you and you released a loud moan, stars appearing across your vision as you reached your high and revelled in it, distantly hearing Loki groan and release inside you before moaning, "That's my girl."

As soon as you came down from your high, you realised that Loki was sat on the floor with you peacefully in his lap. His seed was dripping out of your spent hole and you made to sit up but Loki prevented you, shaking his head and whispering 'stay a moment'. In that moment, your red dress shimmered and sunk into an emerald green. Satisfied, Loki sat up straighter and kissed your neck as he whispered, "perfect."

Your stomach fluttered and you moaned, running your fingers through his curly hair with a fucked-out smile. "Love you," you whispered, resting your head against his shoulder.

With a smile, Loki caressed your back and whispered, "I love you too, sweet flower."

You distantly remember, under the haze of alcohol and the impending headache, how Loki stood then and carried you back to his room, party and man at the bar blissfully forgotten.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Main tags:

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[jerzwriter]

High Seas (1 / 2)

I am so catching up on fic requests this week! lol This one is for my bestie, sister from another mister, and soon-to-be NYC jail cell partner (lol nah, we'll be good!) @icecoffee90 based on this ask. I decided to make it a 2-parter. I hope you're OK with that. I hope you enjoy this!

Book: Open Heart (Post Series)

Characters: Tobias Carrick x F!MC, Ethan Ramsey

Category: Fun Fluff?

Words: 1,200

Summary: Casey and Tobias have been looking forward to their vacation plans, a cruise on the high seas with some old Hopkin's friends as well. But when work gets in the way, Casey has a suggestion. Can she sell it?

A/N: Part two will be up tomorrow - This is just some light-hearted fun and I hope you enjoy it. Participating in @choicesmonthlychallenge - I could make it stargazing or sunglasses? It's definitely a summer vacation - does that work Dani? lol? Thank you!

Casey walked into Tobias’s office sheepishly, without saying a word. She turned around and leaned against the locked door. Knowing what that typically meant, he broke into a lascivious grin, but Casey’s scrunched-up face and worried demeanor left him perplexed.   

“Babe...” she grimaced.

“Yes....” he simpered with a raised brow.

“No,” she corrected with a nervous giggle. “It’s not that... not this time, at least. I’m afraid I have some... news.”

His shoulders dropped as his eyes widened. “Oh, shit... you’re not pregnant, are you?”

“What? No!” she shot back incredulously. “Tobias, that happened once, and now every time I have news, you assume that’s it? Besides, I thought you wanted ten kids or something.”

“More like five, but Sammy is barely six months old. Sweetheart,” he smiled as he rose to embrace her, his lips meeting hers in a tender, delightful kiss to seal his wordless apology. “For the record, I would be delighted... but we said we wanted to space the Carrick Pack out a little more, that’s all.”

“Well,” she attempted to worm out of his embrace with a bashful smile that was the very opposite of his devious grin. This man was entirely too proud of the effect he had on her. “Once you hear my news, you’ll probably wish it was Carrick Bambino 2.0.”

His face grew serious as he leaned against his desk, and his wife collapsed into his visitor’s chair.

“Case... you’re OK, right? You’re not sick or something?”

“No, no...” she assured. “Nothing like that. I didn’t mean to frighten you. But remember that proposal I submitted to the governor’s office?”

“The one about expanding free healthcare to children in the state’s poorest communities? Sure, how could I forget? You put your heart and soul into that project – pregnant and all.”

“Well, it paid off... I got a call from the Lieutenant Governor, and well... they loved the proposal and asked if Naveen and I could put a presentation together for them. They’d like to make it happen.”

“Hon! That’s incredible!” He gasped, face glowing with pride. “What are you doing, scaring me like that? This is wonderful news... the best! Why would I be unhappy?”

“It’s... the timing,” she sighed. “The Governor and her healthcare committee only had two days available to meet with us.... both during the week we were supposed to be on our cruise.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, baby. I know how much we’ve been looking forward to it... but this project is so important and,” she stopped when she saw his face fall. “... and I supposed I can bring someone else up to speed and let them take the meeting. It’s just...”

“Oh, No!” he interrupted, taking her hand. “Baby girl, you worked your ass off on that proposal, and I’m so proud of you! No way are you handing all your hard work over to someone else at this stage. Besides, no one believes in it as much as you – and it’s too important. You have to be there. We’ll go on a cruise another time.”

Casey glanced at him with a playful smirk. “Did you put cancellation insurance on the trip like I told you to?”

The mischievous gleam in his eyes answered her before he did. “Have I told you how proud I am of you? And how absolutely beautiful you look today?”

“So, that’s a no on the insurance,” Casey laughed.

“I don’t care. We’ll lose the money. Or I’ll see if we can transfer the trip to someone else.”

“But it’s with your old Hopkins friends! I don’t want you to miss out, so I have the perfect solution. Ethan only declined so we could go together. But, if I can’t go, I can hold down the Diagnostic Team with Harper and Baz, and Ethan can go with you.”

“Uhm, no.”

“Uhm, yes. I already called the cruise line. They said we could transfer the ticket to his name. Plus, it would be nice for you to see your old friends together without your old ball and chain there.”

His lips pursed and he gave her with a reprimanding stare. “When have I ever referred to you as my ball and chain!”

“I’m teasing,” she reassured. “But come on, tell me it wouldn’t be fun for you and Ethan to go on a trip with your old med school friends? As much as I’ll miss you, it’s not such a terrible outcome.”

“It’s not terrible,” he groaned. “But I wanted a little romantic getaway with my wife, too. Ethan is no use to me there.”

“True. But you can cancel the romantic suite with the jacuzzi and change to a standard room, but go! Sammy and I will be fine, you get some friend time and will be back before you know it. All we need to do is get Ethan to agree. What do you say?”

“One condition. I get to Zoom in for your presentation. No way I’m going to miss watching my wife kicking ass.”

“Oh, but Hon,” she grinned, slipping into his arms and playfully toying with the lapels on his lab coat. “But then you’ll be all turned on and so far away... is that a good idea?”

“Sure is. Imagine how worked up we’ll be for the reunion when I get back,” he winked.

“So, then it’s a deal?”

“As long as Ethan’s on board, it’s a deal.”

~~~~~

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Ethan scowled.

Tobias turned to Casey. “See, what did I tell you?”

“Ethan, you can stop pretending you don’t like Tobias. You were our best man. You’re Sammy’s godfather. You practically live at our house on your days off....”

“That’s just to see Samantha,” he interrupted.

“You’re so full of shit!” Casey joked. “I know being curmudgeonly is your brand, but shut up and go! Are you afraid I’ll destroy the DT while you’re gone?”

“No,” Ethan insisted. “It’s not like I’m leaving Carrick in charge, for God’s sake.”

“Well, technically, you are,” Tobias teased. “She is Casey Carrick now, remember?”

“Yeah, the poor thing,” Ethan scowled. “But you know what I meant!”

“Come on,” Tobias cajoled. “It’s been a long time since you and I spent with the old crew. As much as I’d rather be with Casey than you, and, frankly, as much as they’d rather be with Casey than you... it’ll still be fun.”

Ethan’s expression softened as he stared into the distance. “We did have some fun times together in the past.”

“Sure as hell did,” Tobias agreed.

“And you don’t mind?” Ethan asked Casey.

“It was my idea! I’d love to be there, but this presentation is too important to me. Vivian promised she’ll help me with Sammy, and I’d be happy to know you two clowns are off having fun.”

“Sounds like you have it all worked out,” Ethan replied.

Tobias reached over and poked his friend in the arm. “So, is that a yes?”

“I may live to regret this, but fine. I’ll go.”

“Yey!!!” Casey clapped.

“See that,” Ethan smirked. “She’s already happy to get rid of you.”

“Shit!” Tobias laughed, “I’m shocked it took this long for that to happen.”

“Oh, God,” Casey rolled her eyes. “Just promise me you won’t push each other overboard.”

“No promises, babe. If he’s gone, one of us is up for a promotion.”

“Now, that’s premeditated.”

Casey shook her head. “I have a feeling I may live to regret this.”

Part 2

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