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@karahalloway

Another great chapter!🥰

"What?" I counter heatedly, stepping up to him. "That I should cower and hide instead, like I'm to blame for it all? I told you — I refuse to let these people—"

She 'gives' as good as she 'gets'😏😤💪

...but I'm not given a chance to get a word in edgeways, because in the next instant, he's slammed me against his chest, laying claim to my mouth with a ferocity that's on the verge of being savage.

....I knew it wouldn't take long!😁

"An old proverb," Drake says, looking just as embarrassed as I am feeling about the fact that we'd inadvertently let our dirty laundry rip in the company of a complete stranger. "Love is not beautiful if it does not quarrel."

So true!🫠😊💘

"Vaffanculo!" yells Drake, throwing his hand out angrily at the other driver.

Yup, I knew Drake would use that!😆🤣

(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 20 - Steal Me Away

Fandom: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: The social season may be over, but Harper Gale’s problems are just beginning. With everyone at court a potential suspect, can she and Drake survive the engagement tour and get to the bottom of the plot against her and clear her name? An AU take of TRR2 featuring my OTP - Harper & Drake.

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

Chapter Summary: Drake is back... but that doesn't mean that it's a happy reunion...

Word Count: 4,300

Rating/Warnings: M (shouting, guilt-tripping, dangerous driving, swearing in multiple languages, one over-heated kiss)

Chapter theme song:

Chapter 20 - Steal Me Away

I whirl around in disbelief. "Drake...!"

He's stood before me with two days' worth of stubble, regarding me with a long-suffering look.

But it really is him.

And I feel my heart swell, even though I can tell that he's not exactly best pleased to find me in a random antique shop in the middle of Rome.

The muscle in his jaw twitches. "I turn my back for one goddamn minute and—"

"What are you doing here?" I blurt.

"I can ask the same of you, Gale..." he counters, folding his arms over his chest. "Because this sure as shit ain't no bridal boutique."

My chin lifts on its own accord. "I decided to make a detour."

"Jesus fucking—" He rakes his hand through his hair. "Did you leave your brain in a ditch somewhere in the process?"

My eyes widen. "Wha—! No! I—"

"The city is crawling with paps!" he almost shouts, jabbing a finger towards the door. "Who are looking for any excuse to make a meal out of you! Did you not think for one second that—?"

"What?" I counter heatedly, stepping up to him. "That I should cower and hide instead, like I'm to blame for it all? I told you — I refuse to let these people—"

"Well, it would've been a damn sight better than making me chase you across half the fucking city!"

"Why were you even chasing after me?" I demand, my own ire flaring. "You're supposed to be in Dubai!"

"Been there, done that, got the jet lag to prove it," he hits back sarcastically. "But just because I'm gone doesn't mean you suddenly have carte blanche to fuck off on your own."

"Says the person who walked off without so much as a 'see you later'..."

His mouth hardens. "I didn't want to—"

"Also, I'm not on my own," I continue testily. "Allard and Schweitzer—"

"—are fucking fired," he cuts in, suddenly darkened mocha eyes flashing. "They should never have—"

"Ch'è qualche problema?"

"No!" Drake and I snap in unison.

The old man falls mute before muttering something disparaging under his breath.

I continue staring at Drake, heart thumping and chest heaving in the wake of our dust-up.

He glares back unblinkingly, jaw clenched as the tension rolls off him in palatable waves.

I reach up to adjust the strap of my tote indignantly. "So much for trusting each other, huh, Walker?"

"Dammit, Gale," he growls. "That's not what—"

Grabbing the wrapped box off the counter, I stomp past him without a backwards glance. "See you back at the embassy."

He has some nerve, showing up out of the blue t—

I barely make it two steps before he's grabbed me by the arm.

I open my mouth to retort...

...but I'm not given a chance to get a word in edgeways, because in the next instant, he's slammed me against his chest, laying claim to my mouth with a ferocity that's on the verge of being savage.

The fight whooshes out of me as my arms fly up to wrap themselves 'round his neck, even as I feel his fingers dig against the soft cotton of my dress, pulling me to him like a long-lost ship to anchor.

"Christ, girl," he growls against my lips. "You send me off the edge of reason..."

"I'm... sorry..." I gasp, clinging to him helplessly as he trails down the line of my jaw. "I didn't mean to—"

"Ah... l'amore... non è bello se non è litigarello."

Drake starts as he gets clapped roundly on the back.

Peeking up, I see the shopkeeper smirking at us conspiratorially while ambling past.

"Err... Sì," coughs Drake, pulling back from me. "Sto certamente imparando che a mio spese..."

The man laughs in response. "Non capita a tutti?"

"You speak Italian?" I gawp, feeling a flush creep up my cheeks as the old man throws us a wink over his shoulder.

"Uh... Yeah..." Drake mutters, running his hand over the back of his head somewhat sheepishly. "With Bast."

"Oh." I glance between him and the old man. "What did he say?"

My cheeks redden further. "I-I see..."

"It's kind of a compliment..." he admits, shooting a sidelong glance over at the man, who's now busy dusting some shelves. "But we should probably get out of his hair."

"Definitely...!" I chirp, diving towards the saving grace of the exit.

"Err... La saluto," offers Drake on his way out. "E scusi il disturbo..."

"Eh!" comes the scoffed response. "Chi non risica non rosica. Ma è meglio stare attenti con lei! Donna buona – vale una corona."

"Lo so..."

"Everything alright?" I ask as Drake joins me on the baking pavement.

"Yeah," he assures me, not quite meeting my eye. "Just giving his two cents..."

Something flashes across his face, too fast for me to read.

But before I can ask him about it, he's already marching me across the square.

"What about Allard and Schweitzer?" I protest, trying to squint behind me as Drake navigates us 'round the incessant stream of sightseers. "Are they—?"

"I sent them back to the embassy," Drake replies, yanking me back as a pair of kids dart out in front of me.

"You didn't actually fire them, did you?" I gasp.

"Sure as hell thinking about it," he mutters, moving us forward again.

"If it's any consolation, they did try to talk me out of coming out here..."

"Clearly not hard enough."

"I can be very persuasive when I want to be," I remind him.

He lets out a low breath. "Don't I fuckin' know it..."

"Look," I say, coming to a stop and turning to face him. "I get you're pissed—"

"That's putting it mildly."

"—but don't take it out on Allard and Schweitzer," I tell him flatly. "They didn't do anything wrong... and I actually get along with them."

He holds my gaze for a long time before answering. "They're not your friends, Gale."

"Maybe not in any conventional sense," I admit. "But getting me a security detail had been your idea, Walker. And I know I was against it initially, but Allard and Schweitzer have been able to be there for me when you haven't."

His mouth hardens.

"And I know that grates you," I continue quickly, before he can cut me off again. "But we knew from the start that this was going to be the case, so if you do need to leave, then I'd prefer to be left with people I can trust. And I trust Allard and Schweitzer — with my life. Which is actually saying a lot."

He holds my gaze for what feels like a full minute before answering. "I'll think about it."

"That's it?" I demand in disbelief as he grabs my wrist to pull me after him again. "After all that, you're just going t—?"

"I said I'll think about it."

I glare at his back. "You're a dick."

He rounds on me like a wolf. "I'm a fuckin' realist. And the reality is that Allard and Schweitzer messed up. Big time. And I don't care how much you like them, or how many times you've braided each other's hair—"

My eyes narrow. "That's not—"

"—because none of that fucking matters out here! What matters — the only goddamn thing that matters — is keeping you safe. From the paps, from the aristos, even from your ownfucking self, if you're about to do something stupid. And at that, they've unquestionably failed. So, no. I'm not about to cut them a break. Especially not on your say-so. Because the stakes are too fucking real, and I'm not gonna let anyone play dice with your life. Least of all the people whose one job is to look out for you. Got it?"

I force myself to blink back the sudden tears in my eyes. "Yeah..."

"Good," he grunts. "Now get on."

Glancing past Drake, I spot what is very literally the last thing I'd expect to see him with.

I scoff up at him. "In your dreams, bud."

"Gale," he warns, reaching for one of the helmets that's hanging from the black and white moped's frame. "I'm not in the fucking m—"

"Well, neither am I," I hit back tersely. "So, you can take that deathtrap of a Vespa and shove it."

"First off," he counters, tossing the helmet at me. "It's a Piaggio. Second, the only reason I had to resort to this is because you decided to bail."

I catch the helmet irately. "So, you're saying that this is my fault?"

"Damn right, it is," he confirms, extracting a second helmet from the storage compartment nestled beneath the seat. "It's got all of 50cc so it's underpowered as fuck."

"Then why the heck did you get it!"

"Because it's the fastest way to get around the city."

I snort at him. "You mean, it's the fastest way to get into an accident..."

He prays for deliverance under his breath. "Gale, for the love of Christ, will you just—?"

"No," I declare, folding my arms. "The last time you conned me onto the back of your motorbike, I literally thought I was going to die. And after seeing how everyone in Rome drives, I have no interest in—"

"You drive, then."

Drake's unexpected offer pulls me up short. "Wait. What?"

He pulls a set of keys from his pocket. "It's a one-time offer, Gale. Either you take the wheel, or I do. But you've gettin' your ass on this sorry excuse of a bike, one way or another."

"I..." I swallow thickly. "I don't know how..."

"I'll walk you through it," he assures me. "There ain't much to it."

"Somehow I doubt that..."

"Clock's tickin', girl..."

I heave a breath before shoving my head into my helmet. "Okay, fine. I'll do it."

"Figured you would," he murmurs, holding the keys up. "You know where these go?"

"Up your ass," I retort, snatching the keychain from his hands.

The corner of his mouth twitches — whether in amusement or annoyance, I can't tell.

Not that I really care. I can be a jerk, too. But, I figure that at least with me driving, we won't rack up any speeding tickets or near misses on our way back to the Cordonian embassy, which is where we are staying for the two nights that we are in Rome for.

Walking up to the moped — admittedly with more swagger than I'm actually feeling at this moment — I grab the handlebars and swing my leg over the middle of the frame.

After a quick inspection, I locate the ignition switch and slot the key in.

But before I have a chance to try and turn the engine on, Drake's hand appears in my line of sight.

Reaching between my legs, he opens a hidden compartment in the frame. "For your bag."

"Oh," I say in genuine surprise, taking my bag off so I can tuck it away. "That is actually kind of neat."

"Last thing we need is for you to lose your stuff..." he drawls, shutting the glove box back up.

As he straightens again, his arm brushes the bare skin of my knee. And despite (or maybe because of) the unresolved tension shimmering between us in the wake of our heated reunion, I can't help but feel a familiar zap of electricity course through my nerves at the inadvertent contact.

"No kidding..." I concede, somewhat hoarsely. Clearing my throat, I add, "So... umm, what's next?"

"Grab the break and turn the key over as far as it'll go."

"So, kind of like a car," I surmise, following the instructions. "Why isn't it starting?"

"Because you only turned the electronics on," Drake advises. "To kick the engine off, you need to disengage the kick stand, and then press the start button."

"Jesus Christ, this is complicated..." I grumble as I scoot off the seat so I can try to figure out how to do what he just said.

"No more complicated than sailing a yacht," Drake counters, watching my antics from the safety of the pavement. "Just give it a shove ."

"How will that—?"

"It's got a rear-mounted kickstand," he says. "You disengage it by rolling the bike forward."

"Right," I grumble, feeling like a total idiot. "Because that's so obvious."

Maybe I should've let Drake drive, after all...

"You still holding the break?"

I snap my head up as I give the handlebars a hard push. "Huh?"

A squeal erupts from my mouth as the moped suddenly lurches forward beneath me, and I have a moment of sheer panic as I wrestle with the hunk of metal to keep from crashing to the ground.

"I told you to hold the break..."

"You could've been more specific!"

He lets out a low breath. "You good?"

"Yeah," I huff, finally managing to find some semblance of balance with an uncooperative moped stuck between my legs.

"Turn her on, then."

I scan the buttons in front of me. "Err..."

"The one by your right thumb."

Shifting my grip, I extend my thumb out to press the button...

"You still holdin' the break?" Drake asks.

I quickly tighten my hold on the left-side break. "Yes."

Drake eyes me unconvincedly. "Just checking..."

I stick my tongue out at him.

"Hey," he objects. "You're the one who wanted to do this, Gale."

"Yeah, everything is my fault today..." I grumble as I press the start button.

The moped sparks to life beneath me, and I feel a massive rush of achievement.

"I did it!" I cry, meeting Drake's eye with an unadulterated grin.

He quirks a brow at me. "Y'know you're still stationary, right?"

"Shut up."

Drake steps up to the bike with a shake of his head and flips out the passenger foot rest. "Last chance to bow out gracefully, Gale."

I glance over my shoulder at him. "If you're trying to pull some kind of reverse psychology on me, Walker—"

"Wouldn't dream of it..." he assures me dryly, mounting up as well. "But my word is gospel, y'hear?"

"Aye-aye, Cap'n," I say sardonically... while trying to ignore the heat of his body and the instinctive urge to lean back into it as he settles down on the narrow seat behind me.

Because as much as I missed him, and as glad as I am that he's back, our volatile reunion has served as a stark reminder that we never finished our conversation back in Applewood. Not only that, but thanks to the almost break-neck speed at which things have been happening, the list of topics for discussion has only grown since then.

And the last thing I want is for us to fall down the same toxic hole that we did in the wake of Christian's surprise reveal in Valtoria.

I just have to hope that we'll be able to squeeze in some much-needed couple time before even more things pile up between us.

Not to mention, I'm desperate to know what had happened with Tariq in Dubai... and whether Drake's record-fast turnaround was a sign of some much-needed success, or even more demoralising failure.

But, first things first: getting back to the embassy in one piece, without the paps chasing us.

I feel Drake roll his eyes at me. "Wrong salutation, but never mind... Now. We're gonna do this slowly and gently. There's a lot of people around, and we don't need you on the front page of the Sun again because you accidentally torpedoed a toddler."

My throat constricts. "Y-You saw that?"

"You'd be hard pressed to find someone who hasn't," he mutters. "But right now, your focus needs to be on driving this thing. So, eyes up front and ignore everything else."

I swallow down my nerves. "Okay..."

"Your right hand controls the throttle. Your left hand controls the break," Drake instructs. "For the love of God, don't mix that up, or I'll be on the phone to your patents explaining why you suddenly need skin grafts."

I wince involuntarily at the gruesomeness of that particular image. "Got it."

"It's a mistake you'll only make once," he warns grimly. "To get going, twist down on the throttle while slowly easing up on the break. Don't jerk it, or you'll face plant into the speedometer."

"Anything else?" I ask, somewhat nervously.

As anticipated, driving a motorbike is a lot more nuanced than Drake made it look back in Cordonia. And I'm having some serious second thoughts about this whole thing...

"Keep your feet off the foot-stand until you've got enough momentum to stay upright."

"How will I know that?"

"You'll feel it," he assures me. "Like on a bike."

I bite my bottom lip.

"Hey," he says, brushing his fingers across my hip. "You got this, girl."

The familiarity of Drake's touch — even though it's fleeting — unwinds something in me. Because it's an unspoken reminder that no matter what may be going on around us... or between us, it's not going to come in the way of the promise that he made me.

I suck in a steadying breath. "Okay. Here goes."

Readjusting my grip on the handlebars, I twist my wrist down. Feeling the engine start to rumble with increased vigour, I gentle ease up on the break.

The Piaggio begins to creep forward.

"Watch the road, not the instruments," Drake cautions from behind me.

Lifting my eyes up, I carefully navigate us 'round the oncoming pedestrians, keeping my feet suspended alongside the moped, in case I need to make an emergency stop.

But, as we move away from the iconic landmark, the crowd starts to thin out, and the street widens. Passing a fruit and vegetable stand, I let go of the break fully, the bike pulls forward eagerly. Feeling slightly more confident, I add a bit more gas so I can finally lift my feet up without capsizing our delicate operation.

"Not bad," Drake approves. "You just gotta relax a bit."

I flush inadvertently. "I am relaxed."

"Your shoulders say different. You're driving like Quasimodo."

"Oh." I make a concerted effort to straighten my posture. "Better?"

"Yeah. But now you need to drop your elbows."

"So much for this being easy..."

"It is," he insists. "Once you get the hang of it."

"You and your technicalities, Walker..." I grumble.

"Everything's got a learning curve," he reminds me. "But we just might make a Hell's Angel out of you yet."

I snort back at him. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Evil Knievel. We haven't made it back to the embassy yet."

"Then you might wanna knuckle down for this next part."

"Why? What's—?"

I get my answer as we round a corner and come parallel to a busier-looking road.

Great...

"Right here, then first left," Drake advises as we approach a somewhat complicated-looking three-way intersection.

"Umm... Okay..." I mumble, eyeing up the noticeably faster-moving traffic on the main road with more than a bit of trepidation.

"No one's gonna give you room, so you'll have to gun it," comes the no-nonsense tip from behind me. "The indicator is by your left thumb."

A Fiat whizzes past, but the next car is some distance away. Taking a breath, I flick the indicator on and twist down on the throttle to merge into the gap.

"Move over one more," Drake shouts over my shoulder. "You're taking up the bus lane."

"Where the heck does it say that?" I demand, casting my head around in confusion.

"On the sign we just passed..."

"Was it invisible?"

"Hey," counters Drake. "You wanna argue with me, or a cop?"

"Neither," I concede sourly, making the switch to the left-side lane after a quick check in the mirror. "But they could've made it more obvious..."

Drake scoffs. "It's Rome. The bastards are trying to catch you out."

"Clearly," I agree, taking a left at the traffic lights...

...straight into a two-way fork in the road.

"Umm... What now?" I squeak, trying to hedge my bets as much as I can in the rapidly shrinking room that I have to make a decision before I run into the curb.

"Stay left."

I start to turn the bike, only to yank it back violently with a yelp as a car that I hadn't realised was trying to overtake me blows past with a scream of its horn.

"Vaffanculo!" yells Drake, throwing his hand out angrily at the other driver.

"Ohmygod..." I rasp, my entire body shaking in the wake of the near miss.

"Fuckin' asshole," gripes Drake. "You okay?"

I swallow thickly past the lump in my throat. "I... think so."

"If you need to pull over..."

I shake my head. "No. I'm fine. I just..."

"...get a kick outta playing chicken?"

"I don't do it on purpose!"

"You sure?" he asks dryly. "'Cause you definitely seem to be making a habit of it..."

I open my mouth, but quickly think better of it... as Drake has a point. I have had a few too many near misses lately. "Sorry... It isn't intentional. I thought that since I'd left the indicator on, that—"

"I know," he assures me, laying a hand on my hip again. "I'm not blaming you. But all the calls you've had had been too close. And..." His fingers tighten against the material of my dress. "I just don't want you to—"

"I know," I concede softly. "I don't want that either. And I'm not normally this accident-prone, I promise..."

"Except when your blood sugar's low," he corrects wryly.

His words cause me to clench my eyes together in consternation. "Damn it, the croissants..."

In the whirlwind of Drake's surprise reappearance, I'd forgotten all about the primary reason for sneaking away from the bridal boutique.

"What croissants?" queries Drake.

"The pistachio ones I was supposed to get from this little bakery next to the fountain that the Italian President had recommended."

I feel Drake's disbelieving gaze knife into the back of my head. "Seriously? That's the reason you were out playing hooky?"

"One of them, yes..." I reply evasively.

"Putain de merde..."

"Apparently they're very good..."

Drake mutters something under his breath. "Pull over."

My eyes widen. "What? Why?"

"Because it's past noon, and you're clearly starving."

"I'm fine," I insist, even though the only thing of substance I've had since this morning was the cup of coffee on Olivia's jet. "I'll just grab something when—"

The Piaggio lurches to a stop as Drake slaps a hand on the break. "No. You won't."

My eyes widen as my feet fly out on instinct to steady the suddenly stationary moped. "Why not?"

"Because the staff at the embassy already have their work cut out pulling together tonight's dinner, so the kitchen is off-limits," he explains, hopping off the back. "And you won't be able to take two steps outside to grab a sandwich without picking up a pap tail."

"Then why have we stopped in a dead-end alley?" I ask in disbelief as Drake pulls the moped it onto its kickstand while I'm still sat gaping at him from the seat.

"Because we just passed one of the best restaurants in Rome," he states. "So, I'm buying you lunch."

His cinnamon-laced eyes meet mine, and I see a sudden flash of rawness in his gaze... a silent plea entreating me to say yes. Which means this is about more than just food.

"Okay," I accede, wondering what could've prompted such a sudden change of heart. "But what about the paps? Aren't you worried we'll get spotted?"

"See any people?" asks Drake, reaching across my lap to turn the ignition off.

"No, but—"

"Exactly," he affirms, pocketing the keys. "This is one of the few places in the city where you ain't gonna bump into a reporter."

"How do you know?"

"Because apart from the fact that Sugo actually makes its own pasta, it is also a stone's throw from Parliament," he explains, offering me a hand to help me off the bike. "Which means that pencil pushers from every level of government come here to ink deals over carbonara, so no one — staff included — is gonna mess with the status quo."

"Sounds like something out of a mafia movie..."

"Where d'you think Hollywood gets its ideas from?" he drawls, pulling his helmet off to stow it in the under-seat compartment. "Places like this. Which is why no one will bother us here. Especially not the paps. It'd be a death sentence for this joint if their tight and discreet ship suddenly sprung a leak."

"Good to know," I acknowledge, unclipping the clasp of my own helmet. "But how did you even find out about this place? Let alone got in?"

"Leo," Drake replies, taking my helmet to clip it onto the handlebar. "He's on a first name basis with the chef."

I quirk a brow at him. "Sounds like there's a story there..."

Drake extricates my bag from the glove box with scoffs. "It's Leo. There's never not a story. But let's get you inside first. Before you pass out on the pavement."

"I'm not going to—" My stomach rumbles in pointed disagreement. "Okay, I am hungry. But where exactly is this place? There's nothing here apart from the back-ends of buildings..."

"Have I ever let you down when it comes to food?" he asks with a raised brow.

"No..."

"Then trust me."

The story continues in Chapter 21 - Coming Soon!

A/N: Translations for the Italian below:

Ch'è qualche problema? - Is there a problem?

Ah... l'amore... non è bello se non è litigarello. - Ah, love... It is not beautiful if it does not quarrel.

Err... Sì. Sto certamente imparando che a mio spese... - Err... Yes. I am definitely learning that the hard way.

Non capita a tutti? - Don't we all?

Err... La saluto. E scusi il disturbo... - Err... Farewell. And apologies for disturbing you.

Eh! Chi non risica non rosica. Ma è meglio stare attenti con lei! Donna buona – vale una corona. - Eh! No risk, no reward! But you better take care of her! Good woman – worth a crown.

Lo so... - I know...

Vaffanculo! - Fuck you!

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(Less Than) Noble Intentions only (let me know if you want to be added!)

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tessa-liam · 1 hour

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You are adding to my cravings!😈😁

Cravings Gone Mad

Sienna struggles to sleep until she has finished a sharing bag of Sweet Chilli Sensations crisps late one night.

@liaromancewriter @potionsprefect @tessa-liam @secretaryunpaid @alj4890 @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @dutifullynuttywitch @kingliam2019 @katedrakeohd @camillemontespan

#tessa liam re blogs

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tessa-liam · 2 hours

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@rafasgirl23415

This is so precious 🥰🤗⚘️

To My Angel Baby

Casey quietly marks the anniversary of the loss of her baby Annabelle when she was 19.

@liaromancewriter @potionsprefect @tessa-liam @storyofmychoices @genevievemd @jerzwriter @kingliam2019 @dutifullynuttywitch @secretaryunpaid @alj4890

#tessa liam re blogs

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tessa-liam · 2 hours

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(this incredible poster is the handiwork of our lovely host @sazanes!!)

Welcome to our third Kiara Theron Appreciation Week! That time of the year when we get together and celebrate this wonderful character (though to be honest, every day is a great day to celebrate Kiara).

This year, we will be holding this event around May 21st, which is World Day for Cultural Diversity for Dialogue and Development! Basically, a day specially meant to celebrate all cultures and diversities. And which estate is best known for its rich culture, art and literature? Castelserraillan, of course!

Here are our themes for this year:

Day 1 - May 21st - Culture/Festivals

Day 2 - May 22nd - Character Appreciation/Throwback

Day 3 - May 23rd - Languages/Wine

Day 4 - May 24th - Diplomacy/Nature

Day 5 - May 25th - Family/Friendships/Romance

Any content is welcome - art, fanfic, edits, essays, moodboards, interactive media, headcanons...even short appreciation posts and screencaps! Our only requirement is that the content should be Kiara-focused and depict her positively.

Each day has a theme, and some will have two. For those days, you can choose whichever theme you prefer or you can even combine them! It isn't completely necessary to post the content exactly on the day it's meant for...just make sure you tag it with the day and theme even if you're submitting it on a later day.

We also will be accepting pieces after the event is over, and all year round until the next KTAW! So even if you have your post ready much later, please don't hesitate to tag us! 🤗

Blogs to Tag: @hanaleeappreciationweek, and hosts @lizzybeth1986 and @sazanes

Tags to Use: #kiaratheronappreciationweek, #KTAW, #KTAW 2024

There are some incredible fan-community blogs that work tirelessly both to promote creative fandom works and make the experience fun for their writers! Do check them out!!

@choicesficwriterscreations, @choicesmonthlychallenge, @choicespride, @choicesflashfics, @choicesholidays, @choicesprompts, @wordwarriors

If you know any others who would like to be tagged, please let me know! Here are the amazing works sent in for 2023 and '22 if you'd like to get more inspired!

KTAW 2022 | KTAW 2023

Can't wait to see all our fellow Kiara fans next month!!

✅✅signal boosts are always appreciated!✅✅

#signal boost

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tessa-liam · 2 hours

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TRR F/AotW - April 21-27, 2024

✒️ = Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨 = Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+ 🏳️‍🌈 = LGBTQIA

HANA LEE

Hana Lee - Bookworm🎨by @mxcameronrose

Hana Lee - Bookworm (AU) 🎨by @cassiopeiacovus

Hana Lee: Cordonia's Most Influential Courtier ✒️🏳️‍🌈 | Hana Lee x Kiera Theron - @mand-delemonde

Hana Lee Fanart 🎨by @sazanes

Hana Lee Musician Fanart 🎨by @mxcameronrose

Hana Lee Romance Fanart 🎨 by @mxcameronrose

I Do Adore 🎨| Hana Lee x MC - @uselessgay10101

Winds of Change ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Hana Lee x MC - @unsettlingconclusions

MULTIPLE PAIRINGS

All That She Wants (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Multiple Pairings - @angelasscribbles Chapter 1: Riley's Dilemma Liam Rys x MC Chapter 2: Waylaid Drake Walker x MC

The Odd Couples ✒️Ⓜ️| Multiple Pairings - @dcbbw

MAIN CFWC F/AotW List

#signal boost

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tessa-liam · 2 hours

Text

TRR F/AotW - April 21-27, 2024

✒️ = Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨 = Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+ 🏳️‍🌈 = LGBTQIA

HANA LEE

Hana Lee - Bookworm🎨by @mxcameronrose

Hana Lee - Bookworm (AU) 🎨by @cassiopeiacovus

Hana Lee: Cordonia's Most Influential Courtier ✒️🏳️‍🌈 | Hana Lee x Kiera Theron - @mand-delemonde

Hana Lee Fanart 🎨by @sazanes

Hana Lee Musician Fanart 🎨by @mxcameronrose

Hana Lee Romance Fanart 🎨 by @mxcameronrose

I Do Adore 🎨| Hana Lee x MC - @uselessgay10101

Winds of Change ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Hana Lee x MC - @unsettlingconclusions

MULTIPLE PAIRINGS

All That She Wants (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Multiple Pairings - @angelasscribbles Chapter 1: Riley's Dilemma Liam Rys x MC Chapter 2: Waylaid Drake Walker x MC

The Odd Couples ✒️Ⓜ️| Multiple Pairings - @dcbbw

MAIN CFWC F/AotW List

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tessa-liam · 2 hours

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@dcbbw

Well, well, well...😁😁😁

Your brain is working on overdrive and I love this universe ✨️ 💖

Liam & Liv: 🥰 Liam the horn dog and Lucy!🤣🤣🤣

Drake & Maddy: 🙃Yup, Maddy would have hand sanitizer and masks!😮‍💨😬🙄

Leo & Riley: 😲 Leo. WTF. Food over boobs?!🫣🤫🤔

Max & Penny:🤐 Max, you could do better!? 😨 🤨😏

The Odd Couples

Hi, tumblrs! I’m back with yet another AU of one of my favorite AUs: it’s the DC gang, paired differently.

(I know I haven’t written anything DC AU-related in a long ass five minutes, and I swear Chapter 6 of the original series is practically ready to post, just needs a deep-dive edit)

So, this story is the product of two separate ideas: First, what if I hadn’t followed canon/fanon/personal head canons when pairing the couples up/off? And the second idea comes from the What If episode of Friends where that gang ends up with someone different (Phoebe x Ross, Monica x Joey, Rachel x Chandler).

Side note: Using throwback DC crew (Liam, Riley, Max, Leo, Liv, Drake, Madeleine, and Penelope). Also, check out the link to Leo’s shirt (if you make it that far). It’s the Leo-est shirt ever IMHO)

Side Note 2: Mixing the pairings up means I have/will be writing pairings that others write/have written and are generally associated with said writer(s). While I am fully aware that no one owns ships, I realize this is a fandom and strive to be mindful of those who write rareships and respect their pairings.

This is simply my take on my version of these characters when coupled differently in my world.

To those who read over this story in parcels, pieces, and in whole ...THANK YOU!

For those who do read this fic, THANK YOU! Your likes, comments, and/or reblogs are appreciated more than you realize.

Please excuse any and all typos, missing/extraneous words, and/or grammatical errors. Microsoft Editor rates this piece as 99% error free.

I’ll be back sooner rather than later with a submission for Hana Lee Appreciation Week, an angsty Driam/Riley love triangle, and some Stormholt.

Song Inspo: Moments We Live For (Acoustic Version), In Paradise

Word Count: 4,099

Pairings: SGL x Olivia; Drake x Madeleine; Leo x Riley B; Max x Penelope

Rating: M for Mature themes

SGL x Liv

Liam Rys tipsily followed Olivia Nervakis into the hotel room, hip-checking the door to shut it while Olivia occasionally paused her steps to turn on table lamps. Her black stiletto heels made no noise against the carpet; however, the swish of her highly starched black and white polka-dotted dress sounded scratchy in the silent room.

“Do you have to turn on every light?” Liam complained as he fastened the deadbolt.

“It’s not every light, and not our electric bill,” his girlfriend responded tartly as she flipped yet another switch.

The couple was in Baltimore for the weekend, attending a costume party thrown by Liv’s employer. There had been a buffet; an open bar; and a prize for the best costume, which Liam and Olivia did not win. Carlos Santiago, a member of the Environmental Services team, and his wife and three children came costumed as The Birds and The Bees and won the prize.

Liam and Liv were The Ricardos: Olivia’s red hair was done up in Lucy’s signature poodle hairstyle, and her dress was a dead ringer for the world’s most famous housewife’s iconic frock. He had wanted to wear a tuxedo and carry a conga drum but settled for Ricky’s purple, polka dot silk smoking jacket with shawl collar, black pants, and black velvet slippers.

“I can’t believe we didn’t win!” Liam muttered beneath his breath as he came behind Olivia, arms encircling her waist; his palms splayed against her flat, toned stomach. She responded by leaning against him, her back pressed against his chest.

“Don’t hate!” she admonished. “With those Korean features and Boston accent, no way were you a convincing Cuban band leader. Besides, you have to admit Carlos had a pretty creative idea.”

“Not more creative than my SOCK GAME! I mean, Liv … you gotta admit, it’s damn good tonight!”

He was wearing black, knee-length socks with red hearts inscribed with “I Love Lucy” scattered all over. Olivia rolled her eyes in exasperation at the mention of his sock game.

This man and his socks! Liam thought his sock game could cure cancer and bring about world peace.

“You’re sock game is great as it always is, darling. But it was a costume contest,” Olivia placated in a soothing tone as his fingers began removing bobby pins from her hair.

She spun around, facing her boyfriend as her hair fell in soft curls that framed her face. Her green eyes twinkled as she pressed a quick kiss against his lips.

“You big, spoiled baby,” she teased. “Wanna smoke, take the edge off? I brought a couple of blunts along.”

He quickly shook his head. “No way am I going to be in BALTIMORE off some loud.”

Olivia grabbed the lapels of Liam’s smoking jacket, pulling him closer to her. The tip of her tongue swiped his lower lip. “Makes sense,” she agreed.

Liam pressed his palms against her ass cheeks; he sang softly in her ear as he swayed his hips against hers.

And life is heaven, you see 'Cause I love Lucy, yes I love Lucy And Lucy Loves me!

“My name’s Liv”, Olivia corrected with a giggle as she gently wriggled out of Liam’s embrace. “C’mon, let’s get ready for bed,” she urged as she headed for the bathroom.

Liam stuck out his tongue at her retreating back before glancing around the room. It was a typical hotel room, nothing really standing out or making it different from any other room.

The door that led to the balcony was all glass with a brass doorknob; the hotel promised a 360◦ view of the city’s famed Harbor from the patio. The couple planned to have breakfast there in the morning.

There was a workstation; a large, wall-mounted television; coffee maker and microwave; and the bed: queen-sized, four-poster, and centered against the back wall.

His eyes widened when he saw the wall to the side of the bed. It was covered floor to ceiling, and side to side with a … mirror.

Well, that was different.

Liam approached the bed, kicking off his slippers as he went; he stared curiously at his reflection before climbing atop the bed and resting on his haunches. He then lay on his back, turning his head to continue staring at his reflection.

He impatiently pushed his hair off his forehead before rolling over onto his stomach; pressing his palms against the bedcovers, Liam pushed himself up with his arms, still watching himself. He imagined Liv beneath him, her pale legs scissored across his back as they watched themselves.

This could be fun.

“LIVVY!” he yelled excitedly over the sound of water running in the sink. “There’s a MIRROR! On the WALL! By the BED!”

The water turned off; Olivia sauntered into the room; her face was scrubbed clean of makeup, damp ends of her hair curling, and wearing a red lace bra with matching panties. A sultry smirk curved her lips.

Liam caught sight of her in the mirror’s reflection, and visibly gulped. Liv only wore matching underwear when they were going to have sex.

“Ai yi yi yi”, he muttered as he bounded off the bed and hastily divested himself of the smoking jacket.

Olivia was now standing directly in front of Liam; after guiding him to the other side of the bed, directly against the wall so he could see them both in the mirror, her red-tipped fingernails trailed a path from his throat to his belt buckle before unfastening the belt. She slid to her knees, pulling the pants zipper down with her teeth. Her eyes looked up at Liam.

“Care to hear me do some ‘splaining?” she purred as her hand reached inside the opening and pulled his cock out.

Liam never answered; he was too busy staring at Liv’s reflection as her mouth swallowed his manhood.

Drake x Madeleine

“Open your mouth, and stick out your tongue,” Madeleine demanded.

Drake’s chocolate brown eyes stared up at her before raking over her body, his gaze settling on her chest. “Take off your shirt,” he countered.

Madeleine exhaled a frustrated sigh that fluttered her bangs as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Damnit, Drake! You’re sick, and I need to take your temperature to make sure the meds are working.”

Quickly covering his mouth, Drake Walker let out a series of deep, wet coughs that rattled the congestion in his chest.

“They aren't”, he rasped as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Tits would help. For sure.”

With a horrified look, Madeleine hastily grabbed and thrusted a bottle of hand sanitizer in his face. “WIPE!”

Rolling his eyes, Drake took the bottle; he then complied with his girlfriend’s first request. He slathered the disinfectant over his hands while Madeleine inserted a thermometer under his tongue.

His temperature was 102◦; two degrees lower than it had been three hours ago. Uneasy relief washed over Madeleine’s features.

“You should take the meds on a full stomach. You hungry?”

Drake turned onto his side, adjusting the pillows beneath his head as he did so. “Not really, but we both know you’re gonna harp on it until I give in. I think I have some canned soup in one of the kitchen cabinets.”

Madeleine nodded absently as she stepped into the bathroom to run the instrument under hot water in an attempt to kill the cooties her boyfriend more than likely transferred onto it. She heard Drake’s question when she turned the water off.

“When are you giving up that broom closet you’re living in to move in with me?”

“Don’t start,” Madeleine warned with a shake of her head as she re-entered the bedroom.

“Start what? You’re paying $1300 a month to RENT A ROOM! You could move in here with me and pay HALF that and it would be a whole ass apartment! You could start saving, pay down that credit card debt of yours …”

“I prefer to have my own, Drake!”

Madeleine’s boyfriend rolled his eyes. “You HAVE your own RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW! Clothes! Shoes! Makeup! Oat milk! And if we’re talking preferences, I prefer to wake up with you in my bed every morning. I prefer to glare and glower at you from across the room when we argue instead of sitting on the phone in awkward silence. I prefer to not have to wait for make-up sex!”

Madeleine shifted uncomfortably, scuffing the toe of her sneaker against the carpet. Her green eyes peeked up to sneak a glance at Drake, whose bleary eyes stared at her with a mixture of frustration and hopefulness. His fingers idly played in his chest hair.

“Why won’t you just accept this greatness?” he huffed accusingly.

Madeleine rolled her eyes in a here we go again way.

She and Drake were in love with each other. They were the odd couple of the group: The WASP and the Blue-Collar Worker, but they fit each other like a glove. Most of the time.

Cohabitation should have been the next logical step in their relationship.

Madeleine found it nice to come to his U Street apartment after work and find him cooking them dinner while she mixed killer cocktails to help them unwind from their day.

Or for her to be the first one awake and cook them breakfast, making sure to prepare the thick-cut bacon he liked, and brew the dark-roast coffee that was his favorite before sharing morning-breath kisses.

Drake making sure Madeleine had the apricot and cream body wash that cost a small fortune, and high thread count Egyptian cotton towels she insisted upon for her showers.

While their relationship was highly sexual, it was not sexually based. There were debates and discussions covering a gambit from international events and politics to cooking meats with mustard. The only thing they could never agree on was music: Madeleine was a Swiftie, and Drake was 70s rock and country. They shared a love of exercise and the outdoors; weekends usually found them taking day trips to Shenandoah to hike the trails, snacking on the beef jerky Drake loved and Madeleine tolerated.

But people broke up all the time … over the most minute and ridiculous things. And Madeleine knew she could be an anal-retentive pill most of the time. She wasn’t going to be heartbroken and house hunting if things went south with Drake.

Madeleine had been instilled from an early age that God blessed the child that had their own.

“I’m not going to be that chick if we don’t work out," she stated in a small but firm voice as she sat at the foot of the bed; close enough to show support and comfort, far enough away to maybe being in a germ-free zone.

“You’re saying that after I just asked you to move in with me for the 100th time?” Drake huffed before another coughing fit overtook him.

While Drake hacked up a lung, Madeleine looked around the bedroom, wondering if he had any masks around. The couple locked eyes briefly, chocolate fastened on emerald.

“You could dump me at Target or something!” she countered as she alternated between awkwardly patting his back and scooting further away from him.

When the coughing subsided, Drake pointed to the nightstand on Madeleine’s side of the bed.

“Masks. Bottom drawer.”

Drake knew her.

“As for dumping you, you don’t shop at Target; it’d have to be Macy’s.”

So well.

Leo x Riley B.

Leo Rys hefted an oversized, too-full sriracha red snapper taco in both hands before greedily biting into it. He let out a low grunt of satisfaction as flavors and spices exploded over his tongue and crumbles of taco shell fell onto his plate.

Saturday afternoons couldn’t get much better than this: wearing his most comfortable shirt; hanging with his girlfriend Riley Brooks, who was his favorite person in the world; and lunch at his new favorite eatery, Tia Maria Tacos. Bonus: they had scored an upstairs window booth that overlooked the Potomac River.

Normally for the pair, Saturdays were for sleeping in and being lazy; 24 hours of partial nudity and horizontal positions suited them just fine after clocking out of work on a Friday afternoon. Especially if they had worked a full week.

But Riley had been in a funk lately; she had been to five job interviews over the past month; good interviews, where she had been a top-two contender. However, that hadn’t been good enough. Riley had been passed over every time, for each job.

Requests for feedback had not been helpful; hiring managers told her they couldn’t go wrong regardless of who they chose for the position. Riley’s ego was bruised, her esteem low. Despite her having a job that she had worked for the past 10 years ... a job she did damn well ... she was now comparing herself to Penelope, for Chrissakes.

Leo knew he had to do something, so he planned Date Day.

They began at Lincoln’s Waffle House for breakfast followed by a couples’ massage in Cleveland Park. Riley wanted to visit a tarot shop; Leo was agreeable. They both got readings, and she purchased a deck of tarot cards along with a strand of chakra beads.

From there they went to Georgetown, navigating the crowds and perusing shops. A French bakery was offering a European tea meal; Riley looked at Leo with hopeful eyes that quickly filled with dismay at his emphatic refusal. An hour later, laden with bags from a vintage clothing shop, a sex store, and a spice-filled storefront, they decided they were hungry; Leo suggested tacos.

He took a long swallow from his bottle of beer, his gaze fixed on Riley who had a plate filled key lime shrimp, Korean BBQ, and spicy chicken tacos, along with a serving of nacho fries. She felt his gaze and looked up to smile at him before taking a healthy bite of the shrimp taco.

Her eyes widened with surprise before closing in bliss.

“Hmmmmmm, this is soooooo good, Leo! I mean, it ain’t Chinese food but still like, hella good! Thank you for suggesting this place!” she said around a mouthful of food.

“Anytime, boo,” he replied with a wink as he reached into her plate for fries covered in nacho cheese and seasoned ground beef.

“And thank you for cheering me up today. It’s the reminder I needed that the Universe is just doing what it does, and all those hiring managers are just bitches and heifers.”

Leo dragged his fork through seasoned beans and rice. “They weren’t the jobs for you,” he assured her. “YOU are smart, funny, kind, and the greatest asset any person or job can have, and the right organization will recognize that. Not to mention you’re fucking gorgeous, and do you have any idea how hot you are?”

Riley bit into the spicy chicken taco, and quickly took a sip of her Sierra Mist with lemon. She nodded at Leo. “How hot I am? Yeah, I know ... and the answer is not very.”

Leo chuckled as he shook his head. This woman.

He and Riley were the couple that were never supposed to be. Both had had extremely bad luck with love, resulting in deeply rooted trust issues; the issues were more prevalent on Riley’s end than Leo’s.

They were both ambiverts, which loosely translated meant that there was no guarantee that plans made at 10am would still be in effect at 5pm. And you couldn’t be angry about it.

Physically, neither was the other’s type. Leo was a touch too lanky and fit for the buxom Riley; for Leo, Riley had a few too many inches in height, and was a tad curvier than he was used to. They met via Tinder, and it was supposed to be a one-night stand.

But their chemistry was off the charts.

But the sex was too good.

But their pillow talk left them curious to know more about each other while fully clothed.

Long story short … she kept him wild, and he kept her safe.

Before Leo could reassure his girlfriend that she was indeed VERY hot, her eyes trained on someone at a table near the back wall; they narrowed in anger as she tossed her food onto her plate while muttering, “What the actual FUCK?”

Leo looked around puzzled, wondering WHO happened. Because with Riley, it was never a what. If he could change two things about his woman, it would be her incredible grudge-holding talents and her penchant for public confrontation.

Only one table in the far corner was occupied. A Latina, facing them, was excitedly showing off one of her purchases to her male companion; Leo squinted, determining that the girl was proudly displaying a pair of earrings.

He swung back around, a look of confusion on his face. “Who are we hating on here?”

Riley dramatically pointed her index finger at the Latina. “HER! She told me I was a SHOO-IN for that freaking job!! AND THEN WENT WITH SOMEONE ELSE!”

Leo looked even more confused. “Which job? There were five of them!”

Riley didn’t answer. She was too busy scowling at the woman across the room while alternating between shaking her fist and making symbols with her fingers.

“Babe, what are you doing?”

“Throwing gang signs!”

“DC DOESN’T HAVE GANGS!” Leo argued.

“IT DOES NOW!!”

So much for a peaceful outing and letting the Universe do its thing.

Maxwell x Penelope

“I cannot believe you right now, Pen!” Maxwell Beaumont seethed as he rubbed the heels of his hands against his closed eyes.

The Communications and Marketing Director inhaled and exhaled deeply, slowly. It was rare that anyone or anything upset Maxwell, much less angered him; but if anyone could knock him off his equilibrium, for certain it was his girlfriend, Penelope.

His girlfriend stared at him with her wide, pansy-blue eyes before quickly licking her pink-glossed lips. She ran slender, pale fingers through her black hair, then tightened the belt of her pink silk robe. Penelope outstretched her arm, her fingertips grazing the fabric of her boyfriend’s shirt; at his look of frustrated rage, she quickly pulled her hand back.

“Max,” she began in her breathy voice, “I know you’re upset with me, but I HAD to leave that godawful job! The commute sucked and who knew data entry was so … exacting? It’s a miracle I lasted as long as I did!”

By the time she finished her explanation, her hands were gesticulating wildly about, and her tone of voice had become a shriek.

Maxwell turned his back on Penelope to go into their kitchen; still hot Italian food sat on the stove, wrapped in plastic bags. He hollered at her while he began unpacking what was supposed to be a celebratory dinner for Penelope’s new job.

“IT WAS A TELEWORK POSITION! That you were LATE for BOTH DAYS you worked! And it was MAIL MERGE, NOT DATA ENTRY!” He turned to glare daggers at her. “I don’t know what’s worse, the fact you put forth entirely ZERO effort into at least TRYING to become a member of the working class, or that you lied to me the entire week about still having the damn job!”

An angry retort sprang to her lips; Penelope debated continuing the argument but thought better of it. She had known the lie would catch up with her, but she had been hoping it would have been after the dinner. Carmine’s had the most amazing food, and Penelope was in love with their broiled Lobster Oreganata, Porterhouse Pizzaiola, and pasta with meatballs and sausage.

With Maxwell’s back facing her, Penelope quietly tiptoed into the kitchen, trying to neither be seen nor heard. She peered over her potentially ex-boyfriend's shoulder, salivating at the sight and smells of containers filled with pastas, meats, and sauces.

Maxwell felt his girlfriend’s eyes on him and exhaled a silent breath. He should have known from their first meeting that Penelope was not relationship material.

They met at 9:30am on the elevator at the office building Max worked in; it was Penelope’s first day at a company occupying the entire third floor. At 11am, Max was back on the elevator hellbent on a Starbucks run; the elevator stopped at the third floor and Penelope entered, her blue eyes filled with tears.

She had been let go from her new job in less than 90 minutes.

Max was a sucker for a damsel in distress. He dried Penelope’s tears, treated her to a coffee, and offered to take her out on a date. That had been over two years ago, and if the woman had worked a cumulative 40-hour work week since, he knew nothing about it.

He had asked the gang if their companies were hiring; Liam laughed so hard, his drink came out of his nose. Riley, who worked with Max, rolled her eyes as she muttered, “You already know.” Everyone else shook their heads vigorously.

For a brief period, he had even let her be a stay-at-home girlfriend, but that definitely didn’t work out; Penelope couldn’t cook and had no concept of housekeeping. He had to pull from his savings to replace his wardrobe when she tossed his lights, darks and half a bottle of bleach into the washing machine. She was asleep when he left for work, and asleep when he returned home.

Irresponsible was too inadequate of a word to describe his girlfriend. She was a money pit in addition to being careless, thoughtless, and an emotional vampire.

But Maxwell Beaumont loved Penelope Ebrim. She could be sweet, buying him small gifts that brought a smile to his face. She mixed mean cocktails, had a killer sense of humor, and was a terrific dancer. She just needed to find her way.

Apparently, God had chosen Max to help her do so.

“Pen, you have GOT to find and keep a job!” Max stated in a firm tone that brooked no argument as he prepared her a plate of lobster, pasta with garlic and oil, and shrimp parmigiana.

When Penelope saw Maxwell piling a plate with Italian yumminess, she had moved to the cabinets to grab a bottle of wine and two glasses. She was setting them on the dinette table as she debated coming clean in her reply.

“I may have found something; I’m supposed to have an interview Monday.”

Max set the serving spoon down as be swung his head to look at his girlfriend in surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“I was waiting until afterwards so I could surprise you!” Penelope crowed happily.

“Well, where? With who?” Max’s smile covered his entire face as he resumed plating food.

Maybe things were looking up.

Penelope expertly removed the wine bottle’s cork and began pouring sparkling merlot into the glasses.

“The interview is at The Greene Turtle, and it’s with a temp agency called Daddy’s Little Girl. Basically, I would be having lunches and meetings at hotels with older men for an hourly rate.”

Maxwell had plates in both hands, which he slowly lowered onto the kitchen counter; his every movement displayed his disbelief. There was no way his girlfriend had applied for a job as an escort.

No.Way.

“You’re going to be a prostitute?” he choked out.

Penelope had just taken her seat. She looked up at Maxwell in horror at his words.

“NO!! Why would you say THAT? How could you even THINK THAT of me??’ It’s like lunch meetings or something!”

“NAKED LUNCH! Pen, NO ONE is paying a woman … a PRETTY WOMAN … to just “have lunch”!! And meetings in HOTEL ROOMS? What the ACTUAL fuck?”

“It’s working lunches, sometimes dinners, with out-of-town business entrepreneurs who need someone to take dictation!”

Max’s face dropped into his open palm.

“The going rate is $150 an hour! I was told with my looks and appearance, I could be in huge demand,” Penelope argued.

“WHEN DID THEY SEE YOU?” Max yelled as he threateningly shook a plastic spatula in Penelope’s direction.

“I saw the ad on Craigslist and called the number in the listing, then did a Zoom with the manager.”

Maxwell Beaumont stared at his girlfriend for a long, silent moment before exiting the kitchen and heading for their bedroom.

“MAX! Where are you going??”

“To have a talk with God.”

Penelope stared at his retreating back with a furrowed brow before shrugging and rising to fetch her dinner.

“Tell Him I said heyyyy.”

Max’s response was to slam the bedroom door.

Tagging: @ao719 @jared2612 @marietrinmimi @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @mom2000aggie @liamxs-world @liamrhysstalker2020 @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet @busywoman @beezm @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @gardeningourmet @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @emkay512 @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @alj4890 @lovingchoices14 @lady-calypso @walkerdrakewalker @queenjilian @kristinamae093 @choicesficwriterscreations

#dcbbw writes #trr dc au fanfiction #tessa liam re blogs

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tessa-liam · 7 hours

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Thank you for everything @choicesficwriterscreations !!!

I am sooo happy for you!!! See you around the fandom💕💕💕

Just shy of three years ago, I happily stepped in to help when @choicesficwriterscreations needed assistance with CFWC Fics of the Week. Shortly thereafter, the blog's original creator, @loricreates, was ready to step down, and along with @lucy-268 I was honored to take over and continue the great work Lori had started.

The CFWC archive provides an invaluable service to our fandom, but it was always so much more to me. It's a place where people connect, friendships are fostered, and our incredibly talented creators have a chance to be seen and appreciated.

It has been my pleasure to serve as CFWC's mod, and I'm very proud of the contributions I have made during that time. But it's also a lot of work, and lately, it was beginning to feel like a chore. That's when I knew it was time to say goodbye. I'm not going far; I'll still be in the fandom. I may even show up here to help host a special event or two in the future, but for now, I want to spend my time concentrating on other things, both in and outside of the fandom. That includes my writing, catching up on reading, and supporting each of you.

I want to thank @lorircreates, CFWC's founder, for her vision, for creating this space, and for entrusting it to me. It was an honor to take the reins from you, and I hope we've done your "baby" proud.

I want to thank @lucy-268, who was a dream co-moderator. We sure had a lot of good (and crazy) times running the blog together. I'm so glad this fandom brought us together... and we'll stay that way long after this fandom is gone. 💙

I'd like to thank @liaromancewriter, who has graciously offered to take over so that CFWC can continue. Please join me in welcoming Mal as the blog's new moderator! It makes me feel much better knowing I'm leaving CFWC in your hands!

Most of all, I want to thank all of you. Each and every one of you has made our fandom what it is. The creators who make us laugh, cry, and feel things we never expected to feel. The readers and art fans who have encouraged everyone along the way. Everyone who has ever "geeked out" over a beloved story, character, or OC together. Through CFWC, I've gotten to know many of you better, and that has been the best part of the time I've spent here.

So this is my final CFWC post... one last time! :) I can't wait to see what the future brings! 😘

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tessa-liam · 1 day

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This is one of my favorite tropes!💕@rafasgirl23415

Daddy And Daughter Dancing

@liaromancewriter @lovealexhunt @kingliam2019 @katedrakeohd @potionsprefect @peonierose @alj4890 @genevievemd @tessa-liam @texaskitten30 @jerzwriter @liamsqueen1984 @camillemontespan @thesassywitchofthenortheast @amortentiaopenheart

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tessa-liam · 2 days

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@bebepac

I wish I had the power to take away your pain, your despair.

Please take comfort in knowing that I understand what you are going through. Similar to you, I lost a friend at work suddenly.

The feeling makes you numb; so profound it takes your breath away. It will get easier. The memories will remain, but each day that passes will get easier....time will ease the pain.

Take care of yourself and God bless you🫂, always, my friend.

❤️ Tessa

Loss

Sorry, this one isn't fanfiction. A sudden loss of someone you care about can really put you through an emotional rollercoaster. Recently, a friend that I worked with passed away suddenly and very tragically. He deserved so much better than how he was taken from this world. Now, even weeks later, there are still moments where I feel like it isn't real.

Daily, when we used to get to work at the same time, we'd walk in together and at lunch we'd always be laughing about some random story we told each other. Work feels different. I can't even sit at my desk at 8am because every time the pharmacy door opens and it's not him, it chips a little piece of my heart away, and the realization hits me, he's not here anymore. I can't bring myself to delete his number out of my cell phone or my last texts to him, or take down the directory at my desk that has his name and extension on it.

I thought you may be able to relate to that feeling, too, which is why I tagged my regular list. I hope that you don't mind.

Yesterday, I said goodbye to you.

Did I want to?

No. Goodbyes I have learned over the years are seldom happy, and this one shook me to my very core, because you were stolen from us prematurely.

Your season on this earth ended way too soon, my friend.

My heart breaks for the life you should have had, and the dreams that you were working towards that didn’t get the opportunity to come true.

Why?

Why—- is the singular question in all of our broken hearts from the profound loss of you all of us are feeling.

I replay the last conversation we had in my mind on a loop, and wish I would have said more meaningful words to you. That was really our last conversation?

But, there is solace in knowing I was there to listen to your words, to you.

I miss you.

Already.

Deep down, I know somehow, some way, our paths will intersect again.

So yesterday, I said farewell for the moment to you.

Did I want to?

No. But I had to, for now.

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tessa-liam · 2 days

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@rafasgirl23415

I want those!!!!

Indulging Cravings

Casey & Sienna & Kyra & Lucy ( Sr ) head to Casey’s favourite cafe for her favourite chocolate & strawberry pancakes to satisfy her pregnancy cravings.

This IG post is for part of my next chapter.

@liaromancewriter @peonierose @potionsprefect @tessa-liam @thesassywitchofthenortheast @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @kingliam2019 @secretaryunpaid @alj4890 @katedrakeohd @camillemontespan

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tessa-liam · 2 days

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@jerzwriter

...you just answered my thoughts!? What should I have for dinner ... chili 🍛🌶!!!😁

“Yeah, but I grew up at Sunflower Creek. That’s why I know a lot about gardening, and I’ll teach you. You can teach me all the things you learned at the Tower. Then maybe one day when I grow up, I can lead Olympus, too.”

Zoe's protégé!

Zoe reached over and lifted the girl onto her lap, squeezing her closely in her arms. “You will be an amazing leader one day,” she smiled. “I just know it.”

🥰🥰🥰

In the Garden

Thank you to the always lovely @aria-ashryver for this ask! Come spend the first spring day in Olympus's garden!

Book: Wake the Dead Characters: Zoe Rivera (F!MC), Troy Hassan, May Words: 1,100 Rating: General A/N: @choicesaprilchallenge24 | Vegetable Garden and @choicesholidays "Spring is a time of new beginnings, how appropriate..." (though I tweaked it just a bit!)

Spring is a time of new beginnings, so it was no surprise that on its first warm day, the residents of Olympus were eager to be outside. After a brutally cold winter, it was evident that spring fever still existed, even after a zombie apocalypse, and the colony’s leader was not immune.

Scrunching down atop a patch of soil, Zoe stopped for a moment to wipe her glistening brow with her sleeve. Sounds of laughter caught her attention, and she turned to find several children playing a game of hide and seek nearby.

“Joey,” she yelled to the oldest, a boy of about ten. “You know it’s not safe to hide alone. It’s early spring, and the zombies will be back.”

“ I know,” Joey grinned. “That’s why we have a parameter set and a big kid watching us.”

Zoe’s brow furrowed. There were only a few “big kids” in the colony, and they were doing chores during this time of day. “Really,” she asked. “And who is this big kid?”

A raspy throat clearing could be heard from the edge of the children’s play area, and Zoe shook her head. “I should have known,” she laughed.

“What,” Troy winked. “Can you honestly say you've never described me as a big child?"

“No,” she agreed. “I haven’t. The descriptor of “big” would be too generous. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be doing chores, too?”

His face dropped, and he feigned shock. “I am! I’m supervising the children! You should really just go ahead and make me a teacher.”

“So our governing committee can lose all faith in me and revoke my leadership? I think not. Besides, aren’t you scheduled to help me with the gardening?”

“But Miss Zoe!” A little voice wailed. “We are having so much fun, and it’s the first day of spwing!”

Lily was an adorable child with a long mane of curly, black hair. Whenever they flashed Zoe that mostly toothless grin, everyone in sight knew Lily would be getting her way.

“That’s fine, Lily,” Zoe conceded. “Troy can remain the big kid that he is.” Glaring over at the “big boy," she yelled. “You owe me, Hassan! Now I have to do all the gardening myself.”

“No, you don’t,” a voice cried, and a small hand slipped inside Zoe’s. May looked up, her face beaming brighter than Zoe had seen in a long time. “I can help you. I love gardening.”

“I know you do,” Zoe smiled. “And we all know you’re better at it than I am... but don’t you want to play with the kids... and Troy?”

“Nah,” May insisted. “I love gardening even more, and besides, Troy is taking bribes to tell the person who’s “it” where the others are hiding.”

“HASSAN!” Zoe hollered, but Troy had already scooted to the other end of the yard.

“What? Sorry! Can’t hear you!” he yelled, chasing after the children.

An amused Zoe turned to a delighted May. “I’m going to have to talk to him about this later, but for now...”

“For now, we garden!”

Time seemed to pass by in a moment, and before they knew it, the late afternoon sun was beginning to set in the sky. May was engrossed in her work, and Zoe tapped her shoulder to gain her attention.

“We should start heading in. We both have to get washed up before dinner.”

“I know! And I can’t wait for dinner! Eli is making chili tonight.”

“He does make a good chili,” Zoe agreed.

“He’s the best cook! I told him we were planting zucchini, and he said his mom used to make fried zucchini flowers. He’s going to make them for us as soon as these grow.”

Zoe quietly surveyed the little plot of land, her eyes downcast. “If they grow,” she signed, surprised she had said it out loud.

“Of course they will grow!” The enthusiastic little girl replied. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“Well, gardening doesn’t always... work,” Zoe lamented as she sat on a nearby step. “Especially when I’m involved.”

May was quick at her side. “What do you mean? You’ve gardened before. Feather says you’re a natural.”

“Well, Feather is very kind. But I don’t always feel like I know what I’m doing.”

“That’s because you grew up in the Tower,” May said, patting Zoe’s back. “I bet you didn’t even have dirt there.”

“No,” Zoe laughed. “Which is surprising because there sure were a lot of dirty things."

Zoe reached over and lifted the girl onto her lap, squeezing her closely in her arms. “You will be an amazing leader one day,” she smiled. “I just know it.”

“And you will plant really amazing zucchini,” May giggled.

“You know what? You’re right!” Zoe grinned. “This is why we all need each other.”

The sweet moment came to an abrupt end when fun but chaotic screams shot from behind. They turned to find Troy buried under four of the children, each pulling on a different limb. Zoe rushed over, despite her side-splitting from laughter.

“HELP!” Troy screamed.

“Troy Hassan,” she scolded. “What is going on here.”

“We found out he was taking bribes from all of us!” Joey replied. “Now he’s getting all of our pudding after dinner.”

“Troy?” Zoe questioned with a stern glare.

“I’m not really going to take their pudding,” he insisted. “I’m just providing valuable... business lessons.”

May tugged at the hem of Zoe’s shirt. “This is why we all need each other,” she smiled.

“That’s right, we do. But right now, Troy needs us to get him out from under that heap of kids!”

“Oh, that’ll be easy!” May stated.

“Yeah? Why?”

Just then, the creaking sound of the old wooden kitchen windows could be heard, and Eli's head poked out.

“Come and get it!” he yelled. “The chili is hot!”

Squeals of delight mixed with Troy's whimpering and grimaces as a stampede of children trampled over man. Zoe extended her hand with a smirk.

“Let’s get you into the lodge before these kids do you in.”

Troy stumbled along beside Zoe, attempting to catch his breath. “Since they assaulted me, can I have their pudding after all?”

“No,” Zoe reprimanded. “But how about I sneak you an extra cup from the kitchen.”

“You will?”

“Consider it payback for all the treats you used to sneak to me at the Tower.”

“Nice,” he grinned.

“Yeah. Besides, you’ll need the extra energy for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” he asked. “What’s tomorrow?”

Zoe removed her gardening gloves and smashed them into Troy’s chest. “You’re on gardening duty, Hassan... and tomorrow, you’re on your own.”

~~~~

Thanks again for the prompt @aria-ashryver! :)

@choicesficwriterscreations Tagging others sepeartely

#wake the dead #tessa liam reblogs #jerzwriter

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