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axwalker · 3 years

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If The World Was Ending: Even if he was wicked

Synopsis: When Bianca leaves her son without looking back, Drake has to live on the streets until he finds a home with Angelica Ortiz--Lexie’s grandmother and a foster mom. With the Ortiz, Drake finds a family and falls madly in love, until a tragic night changes everything, threatening the life Drake fought so hard to get.

To catch up (HERE)

Pairing: Drake Walker x Lexie O’Brien (MC) The Royal Romance.

A/N: This will be a very angsty, full of drama, small town romance.

Words: 4,120

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry, except for Lexie’s grandmother and mother.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Child neglect, abandonment, sexual assault, prison and a very entitled, “evil” Liam

Due to the several trigger warnings and some of the subjects I’ll be dealing with, I will only tag people who actively asked for it. If you want to be tagged in the following chapters --or untagged, please leave a comment.

Drake

2008

When I was 12 years old, my mother took off with my little sister leaving me in Cordonia with my father's best friend. I reminded her too much of my father, too much of a life she would do anything to forget. That "anything" included abandoning her oldest son. I'd like to say I was surprised, but the truth is I wasn't. Bianca Walker had never been a motherly woman. The only reason she had taken Savannah with her was that my Aunt Leona adored her. I was sure my mother would dump my little sister on her and never look back. I hoped that was the case, Leona despised me, but she was great to Savannah.

A short time after that, Bastien passed away and my mother was nowhere to be found. That's when I started to go from one home to another. The first year and a half were the hardest ones. I lived with four different families, each one worse than the last. First, the Lockes, where the family barely talked to me. Then, the Ruiz that made me take cold showers and sleep on the floor. The Godwins where the “mother” used the check the state gave her to buy alcohol instead of groceries. And finally the worse, the Fields. They seemed nice enough when I met them. Not kind but polite. The first few weeks everything seemed normal. Then one day, I got in trouble at school, and Mr. Fields --the pastor of his community, beat me up to “teach me some manners.” His punishments became a usual thing after that.

Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I escaped. Better to be on my own than believe some family was going to love or adopt me. Obviously, there was something very wrong with me. My own mother had left me, and I had never found my place anywhere else.

I lived on the streets for 6 months. I did all kinds of jobs. Not a lot of them were legal but there were few opportunities for a 14-year-old runaway kid. The most money I got was when I stole car parts that I got to resell to a gang called the Mercy Park Crew. The boss, Mr. Kaneko was fair and paid well enough. I could’ve kept living by myself if something hadn’t got terribly wrong at my last job. One of the boys from a rival gang decided to teach me a lesson and I ended up in the hospital with a concussion. A nurse called social services so here I am in a car with another social worker on the way for another foster home. It doesn’t matter, I know it won’t last anyway.

When you’ve been in the system as long as I had, you learned to look for certain warning signs when placed in a new home. Drugs, ulterior motives, threatening fathers, drinking mothers. After an hour, we drove through a town looking like something straight out of a movie. Valtoria. I’d heard of it before. The family my dad had been protecting when he died lived there. The house we pulled up to, was a large two-story construction with dark brown siding and an immaculate green lawn.

Joelle, my new caseworker had popped up out of nowhere in the hospital and told me I was coming with her. Just like that. From the way Joelle talked about the new place, I figured it was some sort of transitional home for rejects like me. Too old to get adopted and too troubled for anyone to voluntarily take on. I didn’t ask her anything else because I knew I didn’t have a fucking choice. Besides, I knew words don’t mean anything. I was a kid in the system. I went where they took me. Sometimes, I hated it. Sometimes, I really hated it. This time was different. In more ways than one. Usually, I was dropped off by my caseworker, and the people receiving me were about as excited as they were about junk mail. No one has ever come out to greet me before. As long as the woman at the door wasn’t sizing me up for a skin suit, it didn’t matter.

The social worker got out of the car as I grabbed the trash bag that I used to carry my shit around. She rang the bell, and a small, older woman opened the door. Joelle had told me in the car that the woman fostered several boys and I knew what that meant. She wanted the money the government gave her for keeping us. Well, I wasn’t going to make it easy for her. If she wanted to cash a check at the end of the month it was going to cost her. I’d make sure of it.

I had seen it all, but I still was caught by surprise when the tiny woman opened her arms at me and gave me a one-sided hug. A fucking hug.

“I’m very happy to meet you, mijo,” she said in a strong accent. “My name is Angelica Ortiz but everyone here calls me Abuela. Grandma in Spanish.”

The woman was deluded if she thought I’d call her grandma. She was obviously trying to impress the social worker with her fake kindness, hugs, and stupid names. I wasn’t going to be fooled that easily.

I didn’t even answer her as we stepped into the house. Another woman, a younger version of the one staring at me was waiting for us in the living room.

“Hi, you must be Drake. I’m Elena. Welcome.” She gave me a smile. Fake, I was sure but at least she hadn't tried to hug me. The older woman was talking to Joelle about me. Probably about my problems with authority, anger issues, and lack of communication skills. I knew my file by heart.

I barely nodded at Elena, and the three women exchanged a look. “Let me take you to your room, Drake. You’ll be sharing it with Maxwell. He’s doing his homework with my daughter in our house across the street. You’ll get to meet all the boys and my daughter Lexie tonight.”

She walked me to a room on the second floor of the house. It seemed clean and comfortable. Another ploy for the social worker. Two bunker beds with blue blankets and a wooden desk full of books were the biggest pieces of furniture. The left side of the room was covered in posters of who I figured were famous boy bands. There were a few of David Beckham, the only guy I recognized. Other than that there were clothes everywhere. That Maxwell dude was a fucking slob. Great.

“I told Max to take down some posters so you can decorate half of the room to your liking; This is your room as much as it is his. He's usually much more organized than this." I notice she speaks with a sort of fondness. "It was picture day for the school yearbook and he took hours getting ready. ”

I shrugged. I wasn’t planning to stay long anyway. I couldn’t care less if that Max kid left his posters on the walls or not.

She glanced at my garbage bag. “Are those your clothes, mijo?”

I scowled at her. I knew what mijo meant and I was nobody’s son. “My name is Drake.”

She smiled. “Of course, Drake. So, are they?”

I didn’t bother with an answer. A nod was enough.

“I cleared you this part of the closet, so you can keep them there. When you’re ready come downstairs; my mom and I will show you the rest of the house. The boys are out but we’ll all diner together tonight. Do you like Mexican food?”

I shrugged.

The woman smiled. “Shrugging is not an answer, mij- Drake. Either you like it, you don’t, or you haven’t tasted it in which case I can tell you, you’re missing out. Especially when mami cooks.” She winked at me as if we were friends or something. The woman was insane. “So, what is it, Drake?”

I’d never had it before, but she wasn’t going to tell me how to answer a damn question. “I hate it.”

She frowned --clearly disappointed, and I almost felt bad for her. Almost. “I’m very sorry to hear that. We already made Enchiladas for tonight and we don’t waste food. You can tell us your favorite dish though so we can make it for you.”

I shrugged again. Generally, that's when the person talking to me loses her patience but Elena Ortiz only smiled at me again. “Think about it. Every Sunday night, we pick someone’s favorite and cook it. It’s really fun. Next Sunday will be your first here, so you get to pick. Mami is a great cook and she can make anything from a mean chocolate cake to the best cheese pizza. See you downstairs, honey.”

Great. I’ve only been in this house for a few minutes, and I already hated it. The only thing worse than a home where you were beaten up as a welcome was a home where people pretended to care. My third foster home had been like that. Ms. Godwin had been all kind and nice at first. I almost felt like she cared about us. A week later, she had gotten drunk. For two days, neither I or the two girls she fostered had anything to eat because she hadn’t bought any groceries. I had to steal a twenty euro bill from her purse to buy food. She got angry and called the social worker who had come for me and taken me to the Fields. The worst home I ever lived in.

I wasn’t going to go downstairs but I decided that if I wanted a chance to escape it was better if I knew the house. Before I could explore a little, I heard my name from what I assumed was the kitchen.

Elena was crouching in front of the oven. “Drake has such sad eyes, mami. He’s only 14.”

The woman that had asked me to call her abuela, answered as she chopped an onion. “This boy has been living in the streets for more than a year. Do you realize it? Pobre angelito. So young and he has already seen more horrors than most people see in a lifetime.”

“Joelle told me that he had escaped from his last foster home.”

The older woman scoffed. “Home? If that’s how you call people that foster kids only for the money, they get in exchange. I don’t want to imagine why he fled those places." She turned to her daughter who had finished whatever she was doing in the oven and was drinking a bottle of water. "Stop watching me work, Elena and help me with diner, por Dios.”

Why was she pretending she didn’t care about the money? It was obvious. No one did anything for free. There was always a catch.

“Dónde está mi venadito?”

“Lexie and Max are at our house doing homework, mami. Be careful, though, if Lexie hears you calling her “your little deer” she’ll kill you. The boys called her Bambi for months after they heard you the last time.”

“Nonsense. She’s my venadito and that’s that. You two will come to eat here tonight. I want Drake to meet everyone.”

Elena rolled her eyes but patted her mom on the back. “Yes mami. Lexie is dying to meet him, she and Max made a chocolate cake for him. I’ll call her in a minute. Where are the boys by the way?”

“Bertie is trying to teach Leo how to drive. Poor boy, I hope he makes it alive.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure Leo will be careful. Bertrand will be fine.”

“Oh, it’s not Bertie I’m worried about, it’s Leo. Bartie has no patience with him.”

I left the kitchen before they said anything else. I was sure I was going to hate this stupid place. I was angry. More than angry. Furious. After a year of successfully running away, I was back in the damn system. Back in yet another home where people seemed to care about me in front of the social worker just to ignore me –or worse, once she left. I had to admit that my new foster ��moms” played their part better than most. The old one had hugged me and the other one had given me a smile that seemed real. But I knew better. No one really cared for me. No one gave a shit where I slept, what I ate, or if I was ill or scared. Not that I was ever scared. I had seen everything.

The front door was locked so I went to the backyard. I saw a small wooden house on top of one of the trees. I decided it was a good place to hide and be myself.

I sat there for a few moments when I heard someone climbing the tree.

“Hi!”

I looked up and saw a girl a couple of years younger than me. She had the biggest pair of brown eyes I’ve ever seen and was smiling at me as if I was her best friend.

“I’m Lexie! I live across the street. I’m Angelica’s granddaughter. You’re Drake, right?” I didn’t think it was possible to smile more but the girl proved me wrong when her grin widened. I simply nodded.

“Welcome! I know that it must be hard for you to feel at home because you like just arrived but you’ll love it here. I promise. Valtoria is great. We have lakes and the mountains and when it’s warm enough we can go camping all night. You’ll love the house too. I mean between you and me the boys are kind of a pain in the ass but they’re pretty great when they want to. Or when they're not teasing me. Especially Leo and Maxie. Bertrand is a know-it-all. He thinks because he’s sixteen he knows everything." She rolled her eyes clearly offended by the idea that someone could know more than her. "Abuela, that how we all call her because she’s Mexican and would murder us if we call her grandma, is amazing. I mean don’t get me wrong, she's super strict, and as my mom says the woman is never wrong but she’s the best person I know.”

I blinked. I didn’t know a person could talk that much without taking a single breath.

“Do you camp?” She asked as she folded her legs in front of her.

I did before. Before my dad died and my whole life blew up in a million pieces. Not that I would explain any of that to the chatty girl, so I just nodded again.

“Great! It’s getting warmer and Leo wants to go to a new camping site next weekend. Don’t tell him I said this but he’s like the worst camper ever. I have to double-check everything he does but I don’t tell him anymore because my mom said it wasn’t nice.”

I wondered how could someone carry a whole conversation by herself. I hadn’t pronounced a single word since the girl had shown up.

“I want to be your friend but I can see we’re about to have our first fight.” She told me in a teasing tone. “You’re wearing a Liverpool t-shirt. We worship Barcelona in this house. Well, Abuela, Leo and I do. The others couldn’t care less about soccer.”

I looked at the shirt she was wearing. It read "If they don't have soccer in heaven, I'm not going."

She noticed I was looking at her shirt and beamed. "Abue said my shirt was disrespectful to God but mom thought that was dumb and bought it for me anyway."

"Do you like soccer?" I finally asked.

“Like it? I love it! Did abuela saw your shirt? She hates European teams. She thinks Tigres is the best.”

“Tirgues?”

She laughed, and the sound of it did something weird to my stomach. “Tigres. It’s a Mexican team. She goes crazy when they play.”

“What team you like?”

“Barcelona, obviously.”

“Liverpool made it to the finals of the last Champion’s league.” I pointed out.

She shrugged. “They lost so it doesn’t count. Do you play?”

“Sometimes.” I tried not to show how much I loved it. It was something else my dad and I shared that had stopped when he died.

“I play too. How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

“I'm twelve. Well, almost thirteen, my birthday is in May.”

I frowned. “It’s November.”

“I know. I’m almost there.” She beamed. "I'm almost closer to thirteen than twelve anyway."

“Do you always talk this much?”

She laughed and my belly did that weird thing again. “My mom says I was a parrot in another life. I talk more when I’m nervous.”

“You're nervous?” I liked that I could make her nervous but I didn't know why.

She blushed and I liked it too. “A little. What happened to your eye?”

“I got into a fight.”

“Wow. You can’t do that here. Leo is always getting into fights and abuela has to ground him.”

She sure mentioned that Leo guy a lot. “Is Leo your boyfriend?”

“Gross!! Leo’s is like my brother. He, Bertie, and Max live with abuela. We’re a family. You’re family too.”

Fuck that. No matter if the girl was sort of cute. I didn’t have a family. “No, I’m not. I’m not staying.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I don’t belong here.”

“Yes, you do; I swear. Plus, I need someone to coach me, so I can get into the school team next year. Leo promised he would, but he never has time.”

“I suck.”

She shook her head and smiled at me again. “Somehow I don’t think you do.” Then she gave me a conspiratorial look as she pulled out something from her jacket pocket. "You can't tell my mom about this but I took this from her room." It was a white iPod. After scrolling a little through the screen she settled on The Beach Boys. She couldn't possibly know it but they were my dad's favorites. She passed me an earbud and we didn’t talk after that. We just sat together for a while hearing music until we heard our names being called.

“That’s abuela. We should go. She hates to wait. Plus, I'm starving and we're having enchiladas. You'll love them.”

Lexie ran to her house to --as she put it-- 'hide the evidence.' I went back to her grandma's house and stepped into the kitchen.

“Drake, pass me the salt, mijo. It’s next to you on the counter,” Angelica said as she kept on turning the sauce she was making. “You like enchiladas?”

What was with all these women asking me what I liked to eat? I leaned against the black counter while she opened the lid of another steaming pot on the stove, and stirred its contents with a long wooden spoon. I shrugged. I didn’t know if I liked it. But it smelled better than anything I ever tasted, so it couldn’t be all that bad. My mouth started watering, and my stomach growled. Come to think of it, it had been a while since I’d last eaten.

“You know, I know you feel weird now. And you don’t like to talk a lot. Soon, you’ll learn that this is a safe place. We aren’t gonna judge a single word that comes out of your mouth or any of them that don’t.”

I suddenly felt like I owed her a verbal response in exchange for her kindness. Fake or not. Besides, I just knew the chatty girl I’ve just met wouldn’t be happy if I was rude to her grandmother. “Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled at my verbal response. “But just so you know. We do have a few rules in this house.”

Here it comes. The catch. Angelica put the lid back on the pot and leaned over the counter on her elbows. “You just need to go to school, find a hobby or sport you like, don't swear, respect the curfew and keep your room clean. Every child in this house has chores but it’s too soon to figure out yours. For now, you only have to get to know us.” Her eyes crinkled as she smiled at me. At that moment the timer of the oven rang and Angelica took a huge dish out of it. She covered it with more steamy, tomato sauce, sour cream, and grated cheese and put it back in the oven. At least, I might get some good food while I figured what I was going to do next. Because no matter how nice and kind everybody acted, I was not going back to school. I used to be good at it without much effort; I had friends and a soccer team. But I had missed a lot in the last two years. I felt dumb and stupid.

Suddenly, the front door slammed open. “Cuidado muchachos! Be careful with that door against the wall, or you’re going be spackling and repainting this entire house,” Angelica yelled out. Three teenage boys filed into the house, followed by just as many apologies.

“Sorry.” “Oops.” “It was Max’s fault.” “

“These are Maxwell, Leo and Bertie,” Angelica introduced. “Boys, this is Drake.”

“Hi, man!” The blond one said with a shit-eating grin. “Abuela, Lena, you guys didn’t tell me you were buying a Liverpool fan.”

“Adoption is not a purchase of people, Leo” the oldest one --Bertrand, corrected.

“Yeah, cause if it was, then you got Leo from the clearance rack,” the youngest one joked, checking his reflection in the hallway mirror, smoothing back an out-of-place dark hair. “I hope you kept your receipt.”

“Fuck, off,” the blond one replied with a middle finger.

“Watch it, Leo,” Angelica warned. “Boys.”

Max kissed her on the cheek. “Sorry, abue.” She forgave him with a smile, then swatted at his hand with her spoon when he dipped his finger into the pot.

“I’m glad you’re here, bro” Leo said. I stood, and he gave me a fist bump without touching my hand.

“Me too! And we’re going to be roomies,” the kid named Max said. He grabbed a stack of plates from the counter. I followed him over to the long dining room table and helped set the table for seven people.

2020

I lost count of how many days I’ve been in the hole. It wasn’t my first time in here and it sure as hell it wouldn’t be the last. It was always the same routine. Days and nights blended into one making it impossible to know what day it was or how much time I had been in here.

I have been in jail for six excrutiating years. I had known from the day I heard the sentencing that the only way I was going to survive was if I didn’t think about her. It was the hardest thing I had to do but after a while, my routine was running smoothly and when my head hit the pillow at night, I was too fucking exhausted. She haunted my dreams and my nightmares, but I didn’t think of her beyond that. Except for the hole. Locked up there, cold, hungry, and utterly alone her face, my memories of her were the only thing that helped me go on.

I replayed in my head our first encounter, our first kiss, our first time. I obsessed about her full lips, her expressive brown eyes, her gorgeous smile. I could spend hours picturing every single corner of her soft delicate curves. Sometimes, I wondered if --maybe, I didn’t start fights in the hope of being sent to the hole where I could spend my time fantasizing about her. It was pure torture, but I couldn’t help myself. The memories I had of her, of us and our short time together were the only light in my otherwise bleak life.

She still wrote me every week but I hadn’t open any single one of her letters. I didn’t want to know if she was moving on with her life or worst if she was waiting for me. Because that was what Lexie didn’t understand. Even if nothing happened and I was released in one year, I would never be that boy again. The Drake Walker she had known and loved was dead and she wasn’t going to like the man that had been left in his place. I was damn sure about that.

Tagging:

@mskaneko

@burnsoslow

@kingliam2019

@kat-tia801

@petiteboheme

@tinkie1973

@twinkle-320

@thegreentwin

@forallthatitsworth

@marshmallowsandfire

@marshmallowsaremyfavorite

@princessleac1

@lilacsandwhiskey

@lovingchoices14

@nomadics-stuff

#tw child neglect #tw child abandonment #tw children #tw child labor #axwalker writes #drake walker #drake walker fanfic #drake x mc #drake x lexie #trr fanfic #trr au fanfic

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losille2000 · 3 years

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The Swan, Chapter 6

TITLE: The Swan CHAPTER NUMBER: 6/? AUTHOR: Losille2000 WHICH Tom/CHARACTER: Actor!Tom GENRE: Romance/Drama FIC SUMMARY: Sequel to The Ugly Duckling. Astrid embarks on a two-week trip to London to serve as her sister’s maid of honor, hoping against all hope she might miraculously run into her Hawaiian mystery man. When her sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law drag her to a production of Hamlet to meet the groom’s best man, Astrid gets the shock of her life. The situation, though, is anything but perfect. RATING: M (sex, language) WARNINGS: None in this chapter. AUTHORS NOTES: So... what can I say? It's been a while. If you want the whole story, you can look through my blog or message me. I'm happy to answer. That said, it's been a good three years since I did any serious writing. My writing muscles need to build back up to what they were before. Please be kind... and let me know what you think. :D

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - ALSO ON AO3!

Chapter 6 - Flying the Coop

Regret.

Astrid regretted ever stomping up those stairs to Tom’s bedroom. She regretted challenging him to make a move. She regretted letting him have his way with her. In the moment, it seemed right. Maybe if they slept together again, they’d find an incompatibility, especially now that the air of tropical mystery had dissipated and left in its place two broken flesh-and-blood people.

How wrong could she have been?

Now it was amplified, deeper, hotter, engulfing.

Only two weeks for whatever this fire was to fizzle?

It wasn’t, as the Brits say, bloody likely.

And here she was, smack dab in the position she didn’t want to be in; no matter how tangentially her current association with her mother, the family business, and Hollywood was, being connected to Tom in this way presented too many problems to even consider at this point. And fucking him—

“Astrid, are you even listening to me?”

Astrid jumped from the intrusion, letting out a slight squeak. She blinked hard and turned in her spot to look at her sister, who stood in the middle of the furnished but unoccupied flat. “Sorry?”

“Are you okay?” Tilde asked. “You’ve been spacey after the dress shop— and I’m just worried.”

“You don’t need to worry.”

“Let me worry,” she begged. “Let me be the big sister I never got to be.”

Astrid laughed ruefully. If only she could actually talk with Tilde about Tom. She wouldn’t understand, or at the very least, it could pose some very difficult situations in the coming days with the wedding right around the corner. But, Astrid guessed, Tilde meant the other elephant in the room... Astrid being the elephant, and their mother being a Class A narcissist. Because there was absolutely no way Tilde would know about what had happened at Tom’s home...

“It’s too late for that, Tilde,” Astrid said. “You know I love you. I just— there’s no changing her.”

Tilde grumbled and glided over to the couch in the living room. She dropped down on top of the cushions, barely displacing the pillow stuffing with her slight ballet-formed frame. “I should have never allowed her to do all this. I should have done it on my own, it’s not like Jim and I are so hard up. But I thought...”

Astrid held up a hand to stop her sister and sat on the couch more gingerly than Tilde, measuredly, so as not to displace any stuffing in the overstuffed couch, either. Something her mother had taught her, after all: If you’re not going to put in effort to look like a lady, you can at least act like one.

God, even that memory still hurt, down to the marrow in her bones.

“But you did.” Astrid shrugged and laid her head on the back of the couch. There, she sighed.

The sisters sat in silence for some time, listening to Duchess rooting around the flat for something to chew on. When the pug found nothing, she eventually jumped up onto the couch and snuggled into Tilde’s lap.

Astrid cleared her throat. “It’s not all Mom, either. I’m just tired from jet lag and getting everything together for the house party.”

And sleeping with the Best Man. She was pretty sure she’d read a romance novel or a hundred about this situation once. Did that make her a cliché?

“Oh, I meant to ask,” Tilde interjected. “How did that go? Tom was a total tool last night and I was worried about today.”

Astrid licked her lips subconsciously; she could still taste the sugar left by a bite of tiramisu Tom had given to her on a fork. If she concentrated hard enough, she was sure she could still taste the salt of his skin mixed in with it. She could certainly feel the tight muscle in her thigh that pulled every time she shifted, from the way he’d bent it and held it firmly in place as he’d had his way with her.

Frankly, it was a miracle they’d accomplished anything after they ended up in bed. But, she supposed, that was the weirdest part about the whole afternoon. They got out of bed, dressed without speaking and just... worked on what they needed to for the party. There was no discussion. No arguing. Tom stayed a respectable distance from her; she wasn’t sure if she had really wanted him to do it again, over and over, until they were both exhausted. They ate lunch quietly, they got everything organized and packed into his Land Rover, then Tilde showed up and they bade farewell, like it was something they did every day.

Nothing more was said about Hawaii, or a relationship, or lies, or having this end in two weeks. He seemed to be ignoring the topics all together, likely in the misguided belief that if he didn’t bring it up, then everything was fine. She ignored them because discussing WHY she refused to become a true part of his life was too painful.

Astrid pursed her lips and closed her eyes again. Isn’t that what she told him she wanted, though? To feel worshipped and then go about their lives, like nothing happened? Ignore all the elephants and enjoy the sex. No emotion, only sex. He was just following her demands, his need too great to put the brakes on their interlude in his bed.

The problem was that she did want more with him. She wanted emotion and relationships and rainbows and butterflies. When she had thought of him as some wealthy businessman she might once again bump into while visiting London, this had been possible. She had, after all, imagined a reality over the last eighteen months that included falling in love with him and living a life together.

But he wasn’t a businessman. He was an actor. He ran in circles she just couldn’t stomach anymore.

“It was fine. We finished everything and packed it all into his Land Rover for the drive up to Cliveden,” Astrid finally said. “The costume deliveries will be there when we arrive.”

“This really has gotten out of control,” Tilde said. “Part of me just wants to run to the register office and get it over with.”

Astrid shook her head violently. “You do that, and I’ll flip the fuck out. I put too much work into this.”

Tilde laughed. “Scared you, huh?”

“I’m serious, Tilde,” Astrid said, lightly smacking her sister’s thigh. Duchess popped her head up, and thinking it was an invitation for her, came over to her aunt. Astrid cuddled the dog close to her chest, breathing in her freshly bathed fur.

“She likes you,” Tilde said.

Astrid kissed Duchess’ head. “Small children and dogs, apparently.”

Tilde chuckled softly before letting out a long sigh. “I bet she would really like it if her Aunt Astrid were around more.”

“Aunt Astrid is a teacher and never has any time,” she replied directly to Duchess. Duchess reached for the hand that had stopped petting her and touched it with her paw. Her imploring buggy pug eyes asked Aunt Astrid for more.

Tilde huffed, but said nothing more for a long time. Then she cleared her throat. “How do you like the flat, anyway?”

“It’s nice,” Astrid confirmed. In fact, it was nicer than “nice.” This flat looked like one of those staged ads in a real estate magazine with lots of recessed lighting, soft gray colors, top-of-the-line furnishings and a ton of space.

“We’re trying to decide if we’ll sell it or keep it as an investment property,” Tilde replied. “It’s kind of a pain in the ass as a rental property, though.”

Astrid nodded. “You could just give it to Dad’s company to manage.”

Not that doing so was a great option, either.

If Astrid saw her mother irregularly, she saw her father even less. After their separation, he spent time in Las Vegas developing a new casino concept and then, when Astrid graduated from UNLV, moved his business operations permanently back to Sweden. Still, though, the relationship with her father was better than it was with her mother, simply by virtue that he was never around and didn’t have an opportunity to find the weaknesses in her armor like her mother. Tilde rarely spoke about either parent, but Astrid was certain their relationship was similar.

Tilde sat up and turned to look at Astrid seriously. “Or you could move into it.”

“Excuse me?” Astrid said, her heart skipping a few beats, from a sudden surge of anxiety and... something else.

“I’m serious, Astrid,” she said. “We don’t see each other enough and I want to spend time with you and make up for all those years we were apart.”

This wasn’t just some passing fancy. Astrid could see that as plain as day on Tilde’s face. Her sister was determined to convince her to move to London. But for what? She had no support system other than Tilde and James... and her career... well, that was back in Las Vegas.

Not that Las Vegas itself was the most amazing place to live and work.

“I’d never see you anyway,” Astrid argued. “You’re always rehearsing, or preparing to rehearse, or performing. And god knows James is going to be busy doing whatever.”

“Yeah, about that...” Tilde said, trailing off quietly. She picked at the dog hair on her sweater for a few seconds, then slowly looked back at Astrid. “I’m retiring at the end of this season.”

“What?!”

Tilde shrugged. “James and I want a family, and if I wait until it’s a ‘good time,’ it’ll never happen because of our schedules. And really, it’s getting harder and harder to come back from injuries and such. I just... I need a long break from being a performing ballerina. I don’t have the fire I once had, the same will to fight for every goddamn role.”

Astrid simply nodded. This was huge news. Ballet was Tilde’s life. She’d been doing it since she was a little girl, had impeccable skill and training and talent for it. The joke was that Tilde had come out of the womb in pointe shoes.

Which wasn’t that far from the truth, really. As soon as their mother could, she’d gotten Tilde into dance with the best instructors money could buy. Their mother, the failed ballerina, always lived through them. Which explained why she did not like anything about Astrid— Astrid did not have anything that would benefit her.

“Have you told Mom yet?” Astrid asked.

Tilde shook her head. “Of course not! And listen to her prattle on about how I’m a failure and she gave me so much and I’m just a terrible person? No, thank you. I’ll wait until she is permanently back in LA before I tell her.”

Even though Tilde had not yet told anyone else, it somehow eased the tension in Astrid’s shoulders knowing that Tilde would be in their mother’s crosshairs for a change. Typically, that wasn’t the case; their parents always treated Tilde like the perfect golden child. Of course, Tilde had always been one of Astrid’s fiercest allies… when she could. However, since Tilde spent most of her life in London studying at the Royal Ballet from a very early age, support and camaraderie had been scarce. Now, though? Now it felt like she and Tilde could weather the storm together.

Tilde continued, “Yeah. I’m thinking about opening up a dance studio and then after the baby thing happens, if I still have the performing bug in me, then I’ll start guesting. But I’m just so excited to start having babies.”

Stopping the smile from forming on Astrid’s lips was impossible as she registered the excitement on Tilde’s face. Astrid felt the enthusiasm coming from Tilde’s corner of the couch. “I’m excited for you, Tilde.”

And she was. She truly was.

Tilde reached out and grabbed Astrid’s hand. “I’m serious, though, Astrid. We never had a great family growing up, and I see this as an opportunity to right the wrongs of the past and create the family we should have had growing up.”

“I don’t know, Til.”

“James and I have both talked about it a lot and we both agree.”

“Tilde, even if I did move here,” Astrid began, “I don’t know the first thing about teaching in England.”

Tilde nodded. “I know. But James’ parents are retired teachers. I’m sure they’d be willing to help you make heads or tails of it.”

Astrid pursed her lips and turned to stare at the dormant fireplace sitting in front of them. Duchess, who had not moved, made happy dog purr noises as Astrid massaged the tiny velvet triangles of her ears. To be fair to Tilde, Astrid had often thought of moving to London to be nearer to her, but she never thought it would happen or that Tilde would actually need or want her here. The fact that she was wanted made emotion spring to her eyes and prick at them until they watered.

But then, there was the other issue.

The really, super, ginormous issue that came in the shape of a devastatingly handsome British man she met on vacation. If she moved to London, she’d certainly be seeing him more. No clean break at the end of two weeks like she hoped.

“And, you know,” Tilde said, “London’s arts scene is stupendous. We have the hook-up. I thought you could get back into it. You can hardly do that in Las Vegas.”

Astrid snorted. “Tilde, that part of my life is over.”

“Why? You’re amazing. I remember the video you sent of your college production of Othello. There wasn’t a dry eye in the place.”

While Tilde’s appreciation for her talent warmed Astrid’s heart, it didn’t take away the sting of her mother’s actions. Astrid couldn’t even bring herself to discuss it with Tilde when it first happened, much less in the intervening eight years since the incidents that led to her total disavowal of all things acting related. Her silence on the matter, though, had finally come home to roost. First with Tilde telling Tom she was still an actor, and Tom calling her a liar because she told him she wanted nothing to do with it. And now, with Tilde staring her down imploringly. Tilde wanted answers just as much as Tom did, except for very different reasons.

Astrid could not force her suddenly leaden tongue to move in her mouth. Tilde would just have to live with not knowing the whole story, for now. Finally, she said, “If I move to London, I’m not going to be acting.”

“Well, I guess I’ll take that,” Tilde replied. “As long as you’ll still consider moving here to be with me.”

A knock at the front door startled them all, sending Duchess barking and wheezing to the door. The door opened and James popped his head inside. “Knock knock.”

“Come in!” Tilde sang back to him, jumped from her seat, and nearly leaped over the back of the couch to get to him like he was a cold glass of lemonade on a hot day. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him squarely. For a brief, possibly irrational, moment, Astrid was jealous of her sister and the relationship she had built with James.

Which wasn’t a great feeling to have if the plan was to spend more time with them. How could she uproot her entire life— leave her students and friends— and move halfway across the globe just to be consumed by the green-eyed monster?

“Babe,” Tilde said, “tell Astrid she needs to move to London.”

James laughed and turned to look at Astrid. “Astrid… you need to move to London.”

“Thank you!” Tilde pecked his cheek and pirouetted in place until she was facing away from him. She started walking back toward the bedroom. “Let me go get my purse and we can get going.”

When Tilde was gone, and the flat was mostly silent except for more of Duchess’ puggy wheezing as she calmed, James’ smile dropped into a stony seriousness. He stepped over to her and quietly murmured, “We would love to have you here, Astrid. But I understand if you don’t want to come. The decision has to be yours, and if you decide not to move, I will handle Tilde.”

Astrid was grateful for James’ level-headedness in the situation. In the short time she’d known the man, she found that he was a gifted reader of rooms. That was why he was so good with Tilde— a steady anchor in a turbulent sea. Clearly, he understood the anxiety twisting her stomach into knots.

She set a grateful hand on his arm and squeezed appreciatively. “Thanks, James.”

“And don’t let my association with Tom cloud your judgement,” James said.

Astrid withdrew her hand like he’d burned it. Her eyes snapped up to his, then focused outward on the rest of his features and body language. She didn’t know how he knew, but he did. Tom must have told James, despite that she asked him not to.

Unless Tom had told James last night…

“How do you...” She trailed off, turning her gaze and trying to hide her blush.

“He’s my best man for a reason. We tell each other everything,” James replied. “I had hoped that your work today would allow you some time to figure things out before more of this wedding commenced and caused a problem.”

Astrid gulped. “Does Tilde know?”

James shook his head silently.

“Good,” Astrid replied. Good for two reasons, really. The first, because it confirmed for her that the invitation to come to London wasn’t Tilde playing matchmaker. The second, because she still didn’t want anybody to know about it. “Wait… how much did he tell you?”

James stared back at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes and a slight curl at the corner of his mouth. “That would be breaking the Code.”

Her face now completely aflame, Astrid bent down and grabbed Duchess into her arms. She couldn’t even look at the man anymore without feeling embarrassed. Hopefully, it would pass quickly.

“Bad news!” Tilde called from the hallway as she came back into the room. Her thumbs moved rapidly over the screen of her iPhone. “Mother decided we needed an all hands on deck dinner tonight.”

Astrid groaned. “In addition to or replacing the one tomorrow night at Cliveden?”

“In addition to,” Tilde said. “Tom can’t make it tonight because he has the cast party, and Dad isn’t even in England yet, so that’ll be the official one. Tonight is probably just more nitpicking.”

“Do we have to?” Astrid whined.

Tilde sighed heavily and dropped her phone into her purse with agitation. “Strength in numbers, dear sister.”

Her sister's proclamation made the summons to dinner no better, but Astrid and James dutifully followed Tilde out of the flat and out to the car. The only saving grace was that Tom wouldn't be there. Astrid could focus on one problem, not two.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fan fic #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fan fiction #the swan #actor!tom/ofc #tug series #swan #actor!tom

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sometimes-i-write-4-you · 4 years

Text

now we’re even - Stanley Barber x reader

a\n: i’m so bad at naming fics goddamit. anyway this wasn’t requested but i got a few Stan requests, and i missed writing for him so i was happy to see you guys want to see more for him :)

word count: 1726

---

2 words, 13 letters. Stanley Barber. Even though he was an open book, he was a mystery to me. How can a guy like him, with everything he went through, stay so… positive? He was like a bubble gum bubble that refused to get popped – I expected him to be a fragile person, but in reality, he was stronger than me.

The homecoming dance was the event that made me finally understand that. Between the two of us – Sydney's cousin and Sydney's friend – he was the one that thought about grabbing her journal. I was completely paralyzed. Years of watching supernatural didn't prepare me for the real deal.

I was in a state of complete shock, so in order to snap me out of it (after every other idea failed, according to him) he kissed me. That was an even bigger shock than seeing someone's head explode, so the fact I have to run finally sank. He dragged me put of the gym, and we never spoke of the kiss again other than him clarifying it's sole purpose was to snap me out of my shock.

Was I hoping it meant something? maybe. He is head over heels for my cousin, so I think my chances are slim. How pathetic is this? I am in love with a guy who's in love with my cousin, or at least was. I had no idea if he was still into her, considering the fact she was a taken women.

Dina and Syd started dating the week after homecoming after knowing they like each other as more than friends for about 2 weeks, meanwhile I had a crush on Stan for years, and the closest to confessing I ever got was when in 6th grade I told him I like him. he said he likes me too and hugged me.

"I like you too, best friend". Those words were the most painful thing my 12 year old soul was ever told. The closest thing I ever came to date Stanley was when at 5th grade I asked him to pretend to be my boyfriend because Sarah was making fun of me for never having one. We held hands, and one time he kissed me on the cheek right in front of the 11-year-old mean girl. Sarah never made fun of me again.

"hey, yo, (y\n\n)!" a familiar voice called. It belonged to a vert specific curly-haired boy. "hey, Stan" I smiled at him. the hallway was almost empty. It was me, him and some students I can't name. "Syd and Dina want me to join them for a movie at Syd's, and I don't wanna be a third wheel-" "Syd mentioned it" I cut him off, "i gave her an ultimatum but she won't let me choose the movie".

"that's because you have a terrible taste in movies. No offence, but on what earth is Little Italy a good movie?" Stan laughed, "come on. (y\n), you can't leave me hanging like that. Third wheeling with a girl I had a crush on? That's cool on the earth Little Italy is an award-winning piece of art". He was looking at me with puppy eyes, but even without I had to agree.

"first of all, Little Italy is so bad it's amazing. It deserves an award or two for that. second of all… fine" I sighed. I think that if it's for him, I'll do pretty much anything, and the worst part about it that he will do the same for me, but for a different reason. I can tell him I love him and he'll say it back, but he'll mean it in a completely different way.

"you-" he said, pointing at me, "are awesome" he finished, giving me a short peck on my forehead, resting his hand on my shoulder for a second. "yeah well, one of us has to be" I tease him. he frowns at me, and he looked so cute I almost took it back, but his frown turned into a smile fast and he waved goodbye as he walk backwards, off to his class. I waved back and turned to go to my class.

"you two are still a thing?" asked a girl with bleached blond hair and cheerleader uniforms. "we never did, Sarah, it was a fun little pretend to get you to stop bulling me" I replied. She was actually a nice girl now. Kind of. "oh, sorry about that, (y\n)" she laughed, "but you know, you look at him like there's more to it and he looks at you like that too. I would know, boys look at me like that all the time" she said, and I couldn't decide if it makes me want to punch her or thank her. "that's... sort of nice of you, Sarah" I smiled back and went to class.

I finally got home. I threw my bag on the floor and hurried to my closet to choose an outfit for the double-not-date with my friends. I tried on a hoodie with holes that have some jeans on them, a T shirt over a button up with a pair of pants, a black jumper and even the dress I wore for my brother's wedding earlier this year. I ended up settling on a shirt and ripped jeans.

I arrived at Syd's house. "oh, hey there favorite cousin" I smiled when she finally opened the door. U passed right by her to hug Liam. "(y\n)!" he smiled, happy to see me. My aunt was working, and "babysitting" Liam was a part of deal. Syd looked at me, fake-hurt and dramatically sighed, hand on her chest. Dina was sitting on the couch, Stan laughing by her side. "nice burn" he said. "well, now that you two are here, we can leave" Dina smiled, getting up.

"what?" I said, looking at in confusion. "well when we said we want you guys to come over so that we can watch a movie… we meant you guys are staying here to babysit my brother so Dina and I can go watch a movie" Syd said, "sorry. Thank you, bye guys!" Dina said, both waving as the door shut behind them. "wel…" Stan sighed, hand on the back of the couch. Liam was laughing. "you got FOOLED" he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me after him, "puzzle".

"I like puzzles" Stan said, quickly catching up. "they're in the basement" Liam said, pointing at the door, "I am not allowed to go down there, but you can do it, right?" he looked at us. Basements are scary, this one especially considering what went down there. "sure" Stan smiled, "you coming?" he looked at me, and I nodded.

We walked down the dark stairs. "where's the light switch-" I mumbled, moving my hand across the wall and losing focus. I almost tripped, just as Stan turned on the light. He grabbed my hand, stopping my fall and pulling me next to him. I stumbled into his arms on the step. "thanks" I said. "no problamo" he replied, smiling at me. We kept moving into the basement, and I spotted a puzzle on one of the closets. With the light on, and Stan by my side, a basement is not as scary as I expected, so I grabbed something to stand on and pull the puzzle out of the pile of box games.

"so, how do you feel about the trick Dina and Syd pulled?" Stan asked, leaning against the table. "I'm fine with it" I said, "I like Liam, he's great kid". "yeah, he seems like a smart young gentleman, but I meant how do you feel about being stuck with me?" Stan said, and I could hear him kicking the floor. "it's not like we never hung out alone" I said, slightly confused. "well, yeah, but not since homecoming" he said. Oh, right. That.

After homecoming I was terrified of hanging out with him alone. He kissed me, and I was so embossed he had to, even though he made it clear later that he sees me as a best friend and nothing more. It wasn't exactly a pleasant thing to hear. We still talked, and sometimes sat together in school but it was awkward. I liked him, and he didn't like me. Ouch.

"really? I didn't notice. Sorry" I lied, getting on my toes on the chair to reach for the puzzle. The chair was slightly rocky, so Stan hurried to come and hold it in its place. "yeah, I... look, I'm sorry if kissing you made things awkward, I'm taking it back. Like I said, you're my best friend. I don't want to lose you over a stupid kiss. I just thought it would pull you out of the shock" he explained, his words cut like knifes. "yeah, and you were right" I said, pulling out the puzzle and handing it to him. he took a step back, giving me space to get off the chair. "let's make it even" I say, and I have no idea where I got the courage to quickly press my lips against his. "you kissed me, I kissed you and case clo-" I said, but his lips crushing on mine stopped me from finishing the sentence. I was a bit surprised, but I kissed back the moment I realized what was going on. My hands rested on his shoulder, and his hand found my waist to pull me closer. The thud of the puzzle box falling on the floor reminded us where we were. "guys, what's taking so long?" I hear Liam calling. "is there a monster down there? I'm coming to save you!" he said. I picked up the puzzle quickly. "that was cool" I smiled at Stan, "should definitely do it again, just not when we babysit my 12-year-old cousin". "yeah" he nodded, "I agree". Liam showed up, holding a light saber. And his face turned into a disappointed frown. "where's the monster?" he asked. "she heard you saying you're coming, and she run away" Stan said, nodding. "yeah, she said you are way stronger than her" I said. Liam smiled proudly and led us upstairs to do the puzzle. I gave Stan a smile, offering him my hand. He took it and followed me out of the basement, turning off the light.

#stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #stanley barber imagine #ianowt #ianowt x reader #I am not okay with this

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worldoffae · 4 years

Text

My Small Joy - Rowaelin AU

A/N: Strap in cause chapter 3 is a long one. I feel like my biggest struggle is dialog and getting it to flow good so I hope this chapter turned out okay. Next chapter will be pretty steamy - so be ready. ;)

Story Rating: Explicit (brief mentions of sex)

Summary: Six months ago Aelin got the worst news of her life. She would never be able to get pregnant, to give birth to a baby that she so desperately wanted. Deciding that Aelin needs some fun in her life, Lysandra takes her out to a club where she meets the silver haired man of her dreams. A one-night stand takes a turn when 6 weeks later Aelin finds out she’s pregnant! Her world is turned upside down when she runs into him again at a coffee shop. Aelin tells him the truth and this handsome stranger tells her he wants to raise their baby together and she agrees.

Masterlist

Chapter 3:

The semester ended and just like that, Aelin was officially done with college. At least that was one less thing for her to worry about. Between working at the bookstore and trying to find an internship Aelin spent almost all of her free time with Rowan.

It had been six weeks since she found out she was pregnant and had run into him again. It had been six weeks of them slowly opening up to one another and telling each other secrets they had kept hidden for so long.

Aelin learned that outside of Rowan’s sexy and brooding exterior, he was actually incredibly kind and sweet. He was born in Ireland and lived there up until three years ago. When he was younger his father’s job would often send him to America to work so they would spend a few months of the year there before going home to Ireland.

He told her about his wife that was killed by a drunk driver. They had met in high school and dated throughout college before they got married. She was a month pregnant by the time they had their wedding. After she died, Rowan had spiraled for a couple of years. He sold their house and lived on his own in a shitty apartment. His friends, the people he currently worked with, had convinced him to come and work with them. Their company relocated them to New York and he’s been living here for the last three years.

He worked for a photography company. Rowan showed her some of his photos and he was pretty damn good.

Aelin spilled her guts about her own past. She was terrified he would decide he had made a mistake and would run out of her life. Besides Lysandra, her own friends didn’t know everything she had done. Not even Aedion. But Rowan took it in stride and held her hand through it all. He didn't judge her, just looked at her with understanding that she did what she had to to survive.

She lost her parents when she was twelve years old. The foster system had trouble contacting any known family since her aunt, Aedion’s mom, and her own mother weren’t on talking terms. So they placed Aelin in a group home that was under the careful watch of a now known criminal, Arobynn Hamel.

The group home is where she had met Lysandra and Sam. They got there about a year after she started living there. Arobynn trained Aelin to be a petty thief. Trained all of them. Told them that if they wanted to continue living in such a nice place with somebody that cared about them, they had to earn their keep. By the time Aelin turned 18 and was able to leave, she was scary good at stealing.

At first, she hated Sam and Lysandra. But she and Sam were the best at being criminals so they were often teamed up for jobs. And they ended up falling in love. He was a year older than her and was able to leave the home before she could. He went to academy to become a cop. He said he wanted to right all the wrong he was forced to do.

When Aelin turned 18, she moved in with Sam. Aelin worked at a disgusting bar illegally to help pay for the apartment. She and Sam talked about what their life would be like, about how much they loved each other and how excited they were for a day they could start their own family.

Sam was officially a cop and had begun working to uncover the truth about who Arobynn Hamel was. He was the lead officer in the bust that led to Arobynn being arrested. But Arobynn knew they were coming and put up a fight. Sam was shot and killed during the bust.

Aelin had sat up waiting for him to come home. It was around midnight that she got the call saying Sam had been fatally shot. She had fallen to her knees on the spot and screamed at what had been stolen from her. For what had been stolen from the nineteen year old that had his whole life ahead of him. She ended up robbing a pawn shop and stealing a gun. She was mad with grief and tried to break into the jail they were holding Arobynn at to kill him. She didn’t make it far before she was arrested.

Aelin ended up spending a few months in jail. Lysandra was the one that picked her up when she got out. She had heard about what happened to Sam and her. She offered Aelin a place to live. She said she didn’t want to hold onto the anger that was fed to them from Arobynn and Aelin agreed.

A few months later and Adeion had shown up at her doorstep. Her cousin had finally tracked her down and found out where she was. He moved into town and they got to know each other again.

She had never even told Chaol about going to jail. Once when they were dating he had locked himself out of his apartment. Aelin had picked the lock to open the door and he made it very clear that he wanted no part in any illegal activities. So she had kept her past hidden to him and he had never asked. No wonder their relationship crashed and burned.

A chime from her phone brought Aelin back to the present. She pulled it out of her pocket to find a text from Rowan.

Saw this and thought you might like it.

Attached was a photo of a small puppy with its butt in the air and paws splayed out in front of it, tongue hanging out while it stared at a caterpillar.

She felt her lips pull into a smile. She was beginning to form a reply of her own when she heard a familiar voice call her name.

“Aelin?”

She looked up from her phone to see Dorian walking towards her. His face brightened up when she saw him. Shit, she thought.

She hadn’t seen him since that party right after she and Chaol had broken up. When she had just found out the news that she wouldn’t be able to bear a child and had been a mess. They probably all thought she was broken over their break-up.

“Hey, Dorian. How are you?” she asked, trying to sound cheerful.

“I’m good. But, how are you? I haven’t seen you in forever. What’s it been, like half a year?” Dorian said. He leaned in and wrapped Aelin in a big hug.

“Yeah, something like that,” she forced out.

Dorian looked at her up and down and Aelin was grateful for the thick jacket she was wearing to ward off the cold January air. She was beginning to show a little and she wasn’t ready for that conversation.

His eyes softened as he said, “We all really miss you, Aelin.”

“I’m really sorry I haven’t been around. These last few months have been… difficult. I had some things I needed to work through.”

He nodded. “I get it. I’m actually having a birthday party tonight, if you’d maybe come? Aedion and Lysandra will be there. I had asked Lysandra to ask you to come but I had never heard back.”

Aelin opened up her mouth to make an excuse and realized she had none. “Um, yeah, I can try to be there.”

Dorian perked up a little at that and smiled at her. “Great. It’s at my place at 8.”

Aelin felt panic begin clawing its way through her chest at the thought of having to go alone. So she said, “Could I bring a friend?”

Surprise flashed across his face. “Yeah, that’s fine with me. It’ll just be the usual gang so the more the merrier.”

Aelin smiled a small smile and nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you tonight then. I gotta go though. Doctor’s appointment.”

They hugged again and went their separate ways.

Aelin pulled her phone out as she continued walking down the street and sent a text to Rowan.

Hey, how would you feel about going to a party with me tonight?

She watched the ellipses pop up as she opened the door to her doctor’s office and walked inside. A party? An odd request for somebody who can’t drink.

I couldn’t think of an excuse to get out of it. It’s for a birthday party. What do you say, Buzzard? You in?

“Your wish is my command,” a deep and accented voice said in her ear.

Aelin jumped at the sound of his voice. “Shit you scared me,” she said as she smacked Rowan’s arm.

He chuckled and walked with her as she got checked in at the front desk. They sat down and waited for her name to be called.

“I ran into Dorian on the way here,” Aelin said, her knee bouncing.

“Oh?” Rowan’s brows rose.

She nodded. “The birthday party is for him. I got a bit nervous about going by myself.”

A moment of silence passed between them before Rowan said, “Why not ask Lysandra or Aedion to go with you?”

“They’re already going to be there.” Rowan had already met the two of them and he and Aedion got along a lot better than Aelin thought they would. “You can say no to going, you know.”

“That’s not why I asked,” Rowan said softly when he noticed the change in Aelin’s tone. “Me being there will just bring up questions and I didn’t know if that was something you were ready for.”

Aelin took a deep breath. Rowan was just trying to be thoughtful. She needed to stop jumping to conclusions and assume he was trying to find an out. He had more than proven how badly he wanted this baby too.

So instead she shook her head and said, “I know. But I’d really like for them to meet you anyways. I’m going to have to come clean about this pregnancy at some point and that will just start the whole, ‘Well who’s the father?’ questions.”

“So I’m the one being outed now.” Rowan’s chuckle sent shivers down Aelin’s spine and she tried her best to keep it from showing.

“I’ll just introduce you as my friend. They don’t need to know that part yet. But I do miss them. And I don’t want to hide the shit I’ve been dealing with anymore.”

She felt Rowan’s gaze on her and she snuck a glance at him. There was a softness in his eyes and smile that had her breath catching in her throat. She had done her best to ignore the feelings he brought up in her. And she had caught him on more than one occasion giving her the same heated looks she gave him when he wasn’t looking to know he felt the same. The agreement was to get to know each other first. They had their baby to think about.

“Galythinius?”

Aelin tore her eyes from Rowan to look at the nurse that called her name. She stood up and Rowan did the same before they followed the nurse to her room. Aelin got settled on the bed and waited for the doctor.

“Hello. Are you Aelin Galythinius? I’m doctor Towers. It’s nice to meet you,” the doctor said. She was beautiful with her long, curly hair and golden skin. She gave Aelin a smile as she nodded.

“I know this pregnancy has been a bit scary so far. But today is a day to celebrate. You’re at 12 weeks so you're officially done with your first trimester! The chances for a miscarriage are much lower. Are you excited to see your baby today?” Doctor Towers asked as she set up the ultrasound machine.

“I am so excited. Still scared though.” Aelin blew out a breath and smoothed a hand over her small bump.

Dr. Towers glanced up beneath long lashes at Rowan before getting settled in her chair. “And are you the father?”

Rowan nodded and looked at Aelin. “Yes I am. And I am also very excited to see our baby today.” He took Aelin’s hand and smiled. Gods he was so handsome.

Dr. Towers nodded and put on her gloves. “Okay, let's get started then. If you could pull your shirt up a bit and unbutton your pants for me, Ms. Galythinius. Yes, that’s good, thank you. Now this is going to be cold.”

She squirted the ultrasound gel onto her stomach and Aelin flinched a litte. “Shit you weren’t kidding.”

Rowan chuckled and the doctor smiled. She put the wand against Aelin’s abdomen and Aelin squeezed her eyes shut as the doctor began moving it around to find the baby. She heard an intake of breath beside her and opened her eyes to find Rowan leaning down next to her. She saw tears begin forming in his eyes.

“Look, Aelin,” he breathed, his eyes not leaving the screen. “It’s our baby.”

Aelin tore her eyes away from him to look at the screen. She was too scared to look at first. She still felt like this was all some dream she would wake up from soon. But there on the screen was the small bean in gray and white. She couldn’t stop the tears from falling as she took in the tiny figure.

She pressed her shaking fingers against her lips and let out a little, “Oh. There it is.”

Rowan gently took her hand in his and squeezed. She could feel his own shaking like hers. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Dr. Tower’s froze the screen. “Your baby is looking very healthy. It looks like it’s right on track and there’s nothing to worry about. Just keep doing what you’re doing, okay? Would you like a picture to take home with you?” Aelin nodded so fast she thought she would give herself whiplash. “Can we have a few, please?” she whispered, her eyes still not leaving the screen.

The doctor smiled and nodded. “I can do that. I’d like to schedule you for a 16 week check up if that’s alright with you. Since this is a higher risk pregnancy I’d like to have you in for check ups more often than I usually would. I’ll meet you at the front with your pictures.”

Dr. Towers stood and handed Aelin a wipe for her stomach and left them to have a moment to themselves.

Aelin felt a sob work itself out of her throat and Rowan leaned his forehead against hers. She let herself lean into it, let herself breathe in his pine and snow scent to steady herself.

After a moment she looked up at Rowan’s face. She could see the tears and happy smile that lit up his face. “Our baby. I can’t fucking believe it,” she said, taking another shuddering breath.

“Our baby,” Rowan echoed.

Aelin laced her fingers with Rowan’s and smiled at him with no restraint. The pure happiness on his face was mirrored on hers and together they looked at the tiny bean that was their small joy.

-----

Hours later and Aelin found herself standing at Dorian’s apartment door. She was fiddling with the zipper of her jacket in anticipation of what was to come. Rowan slid a hand to her lower back and Aelin glanced up at him, grateful for the comfort.

Underneath she wore a red empire waisted dress. It stopped just above her knees and she wore a simple pair of flats. Her hair was half up and half down and it fell in loose waves. Rowan had let out a whistle of appreciation when he had picked her up at her apartment and she tried to hide her blush.

He wasn’t looking too shabby either in his dark green button down shirt and tight pants. Although he could be wearing a trash bag and still be hot as hell. She told him as much and that earned her a blush of his own.

Aelin took a steading breath and nodded before she knocked on the door. She felt Rowan’s hand fall from her back and she found herself missing the contact. But she straightened her spine and stood tall, trying for that old swagger that was slowly coming back to her.

The door swung open and Dorian’s wide grin met them. He faltered slightly when he took Rowan in beside her but recovered. “Aelin! Welcome! This must be your friend.” Dorian shook Rowan’s hand as he continued, “I’ll admit, though, that when Aelin asked if she could bring a friend I assumed it would be a woman.”

Aelin rolled her eyes as she nudged her way into the apartment. “Of course you did. Not getting laid enough these days, Dorian?”

Dorian let out a howl of laughter and shut the door behind them. “Everyone, Aelin’s here!”

They took off their coats and walked out of the entryway hall and into the living room. Seated on the loveseat were Aedion and Lysandra, smiles on both their faces as the latter waved at Aelin and Rowan. On the couch was Chaol and a beautiful woman with golden skin and thick, curly hair pulled up in a bun.

Aelin stopped dead in her tracks as she made eye contact with the woman. Recognition lit up her eyes as she noticed the two of them and Aelin’s eyes fell to Chaol and her hands intertwined. Shit shit shit.

Her doctor was Chaol’s new girlfriend.

Her hesitation went unnoticed by Dorian as he made introductions. “Aelin, this is Yrene. Yrene, this is Aelin. I’m really hoping Chaol told you about them having dated or this is about to be real awkward.”

Dr. Towers, or Yrene, tried to hide her amused smile. Aelin couldn’t help but let out a rasp of a laugh. She felt Rowan’s steading presence behind her and took a step forward so she didn’t lean into him.

“We’ve met actually. She’s my new OBGYN.”

Chaol’s eyes widened in surprise as he looked between his girlfriend and his ex.

Yrene nodded in confirmation. “It seems this was always going to be a little awkward at first, huh?” Amusement lit her eyes as she looked at Chaol and back at Aelin.

Oh, Aelin liked this woman.

Chaol turned his eyes to Rowan. He looked like he was about to say something when Dorian interrupted. “And this is… I actually never got your name,” he said, gesturing to Rowan.

Rowan stepped up to Aelin’s side and extended his hand to Dorian and then Chaol. “I’m Rowan. I’m Aelin’s friend.”

She could see how the three others looked at Rowan with questions on the tip of their tongues. Aelin hadn’t come around in seven months and all of a sudden she brought a guy friend with her. She would be curious too.

“An accent,” Dorian said, waggling his eyebrows. “What is that, Scottish?”

“Irish, actually,” Rowan answered. He didn’t supply any more information and silence fell.

“What’s up, man,” Aedion said, breaking the awkward tension. He stood and pulled Rowan into a half hug and clapped him on the back. They said their greetings and Lysandra came up and said hi, smiling and batting her eyelashes at him. Aedion grumbled and Aelin laughed.

“There’s beer in the fridge if you want one,” Aedion said to Rowan, walking into Dorian’s kitchen and helping himself. Rowan gave Aelin a look and shrugged before he followed suit. Aelin tried to hide her smile and failed.

Dorian stood for another second before he seated himself next to Chaol on the couch. Lysandra sat in her spot again and Aelin took a seat on the floor in front of the coffee table.

“I can go grab a chair for you, A,” Dorian said quickly, starting to get up. “I didn’t know if you were going to be able to make it so I didn’t grab it earlier, but-”

Aelin shook her head and he stopped. “I’m okay here.”

Dorian looked unsure but sat down again.

Chaol was the one to speak next. “So, what have you been up to, Aelin? We haven’t seen you since…” he trailed off, looking like he was unsure if he should continue.

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Since shortly after we broke up. You can say it, Choal. And before either of you two try asking,” she said with a pointed look at Dorian and Chaol, “no, I wasn’t a mess last time you saw me because I was hung up on Chaol.”

Dorian leaned forward at that. “Then what was it? Like, shit, A. You two break up and then we see you a month after it and you’re drunk off your ass and tell us all to stop asking you what was wrong. What else were we supposed to think?”

Rowan and Aedion had walked back in as Dorian started talking and they took their respective seats, Rowan sitting down next to Aelin.

Aelin took a deep breath, preparing herself for the conversation she had been dreading. She hated being open and vulnerable.

She felt Rowan’s knee brush against hers as he readjusted himself. She knew it was intentional. To remind her that he was beside her.

“I was a mess at that party because I had just had a doctor’s appointment where I was told I would never be able to get pregnant.”

She watched as Dorian and Chaol’s faces fell. Chaol opened his mouth to say something but Aelin held up a hand.

“Clearly, I didn’t handle the news well. But I should have been honest with you guys instead of pushing all of you away. I realized that and I’m really sorry for doing that.”

Both of them shook their heads. “Aelin,” Dorian said. “You don’t need to apologize. Yes, I think both Chaol and I both would have appreciated it, but you don’t owe us anything. But I wish we could have been there for you.”

Aelin nodded, looking down at the table where her hands were crossed. She pulled them off the table and into her lap as they started shaking. “There’s more. Another reason I realized I didn't hide from you guys anymore, no matter how awkward it would be to have to explain everything.”

She looked up and held her chin high as she pulled the ultrasound picture out of her pocket. She saw Lysandra sit up abruptly out of the corner of her eye and could hear her intake of breath. She hadn’t told them she was getting her first scan today.

Aelin watched as Chaol and Dorian sat forward to get a better look at the picture. Their jaws went slack when they realized what it was. Their eyes shot up to Aelin’s.

“I’m twelve weeks pregnant today,” she said.

“Shit, A,” Dorian breathed. His face broke out in a huge grin. “That’s amazing!” He hesitated. “It is amazing, right? You’re happy?”

This time Aelin didn’t try to hide her smile as her eyes fell back onto the photo. “Yes,” she breathed. “I’m very happy.”

“I’m so angry you didn’t tell me you got your scan today,” Lysandra said, picking up the ultrasound picture. “But I’m so happy for you, Aelin. Does this mean I can finally start buying baby things?”

Aelin laughed and shook her head. “Soon. Not quite yet.”

Lysandra huffed in annoyance but the smile didn’t leave her face as she handed it to Aedion. She saw the tears well up in his eyes but he didn’t say anything as he handed it back. She knew that would come when they had a moment alone. Neither of them were fans of crying in public.

“I have to ask,” Dorian finally said, his eyes darting to Rowan and back to Aelin. “But who’s the father?”

“Why is that important?” Aelin asked. She knew this question was going to come but gods, she really didn’t want to explain how it had happened to them.

“Because you just told us that you lost your shit after you found out you couldn’t get pregnant, then tell us that by some miracle you are, and you brought your ‘friend’,” Dorian used air quotes for the word friend, “to my party. One can only assume.”

Aelin opened her mouth, trying to think of an excuse to deny it, when Lysandra chimed in. “No, don’t you dare, Aelin. I know you’re going to try and come up with some lame excuse so you can save yourself the embarrassment, so let me do it for you.” She turned to everyone else. “Aelin needed to get laid so I took her to a club where she fucked Rowan in the bathroom.”

Rowan choked on his beer and flushed while Aelin cried in outrage, “Lysandra!”

She threw her hands up. “What?” she said. “It’s true and I don’t want any more secrets.”

Rowan chuckled. “She’s not wrong.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to agree with her,” Aelin said in exasperation, swatting his muscled arm. Rowan chuckled again and grabbed her hands in his to get her to stop hitting.

Chaol spoke this time. “So you two are just friends?”

She could see the questions in his eyes. That he could see that answer for the lie it was. Before she might have interpreted it as him being jealous. But she could see how relaxed he seemed around Yrene, their hands still intertwined. She could see now that they had both moved forward and were maybe at the point where they could try to be friends again.

“For now, yes,” Rowan answered for her. Aelin’s head whipped in his direction.

Choal looked at Rowan for a beat before he nodded. He smiled. “I’m happy for you guys. This is really great, Aelin.”

Aelin looked back at Rowan and smiled, her hand smoothing over her stomach for the thousandth time that day. “Yes, it really is.”

-----

Rowan walked Aelin back to her apartment door. They got to her door and Aelin unlocked it but made no move to open it. She wasn’t quite ready to say goodnight yet.

“What did you mean when you said that we’re just friends ‘for now’?” she asked.

Rowan smiled slightly, lifting a hand to tuck some hair behind her ear. His fingers grazed against her cheek and her eyes fluttered at the small touch.

“I meant,” he rumbled, “that I know we agreed to get to know each other and take things slow for the sake of our baby. But I also had every intention of asking you out on a date tonight.”

Aelin didn’t think she was breathing. “And now?”

“And now,” he said, stepping closer so they were sharing breath, “ that I still have every intention of doing just that. So, would you want to go out on a date with me tomorrow night?”

Aelin had to tilt her head up to look him in the eye. She could see the mischief dancing there. But she could also see the hope there.

Aelin smiled at him. “I’d love to.”

Rowan’s eyes dropped to her lips and she tracked the movement. She saw a slight blush grace his cheeks and he swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing. She tracked that movement too.

So she leaned up on her toes and let her lips graze his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, Buzzard.”

Rowan let out a breathy chuckle that had Aelin involuntarily leaning into his warmth. She felt his hand gently grasp her hip and she pulled back. She flashed him another dazzling smile and winked at him before she opened the door and stepped inside, shutting the door in his face.

#tog #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #rowaelin au #my writing #my small joy #fanficion #fanfic #pregnancy au

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hazelnmae · 5 years

Text

Out to Sea Again: Chapter 6

Thanks for still following along, folks.

Warnings: angst; something resembling, but not quite smut.

Pairings: Alfie x Reader; Tommy x Reader

Chapter 6 Read Chapter 5 here

You sat at the fire, feet folded beneath you, chewing the mint leaf slowly. You watched Tommy as he sat at the small wooden table across from your great aunt Aishe, the only of your grandmother’s siblings who still traveled. She was holding Tommy’s hands, turning them over, trying to read the lines. Tommy stared back at her intently. If he were bothered by the fact that you’d brought him to your family’s camp, he didn’t show it.

In truth, you were happy to have a reason to return to them. After your grandmother passed, your family rarely visited. You’d brought Alfie, of course, as your family would want to approve of the man you intended to spend your life with. But very few occasions gave you reason to visit these days, though you did seek answers from your great aunt when you were having a hard time making sense of your feelings. She’d always had a way of reading people. And it was that skill you desperately sought now.

You watched a pack of children running wild through the field, no doubt the sons and daughters of some cousin or other. It struck you how you’d never properly met any of them. It was only your grandmother and great aunt you’d ever actually spent time with.

Your mind had wandered so far that you were startled to hear Aishe call your name. You stood and moved toward her, passing Tommy along the way.

She put her arm around your waist and pulled you into a slow walk down the bank of the river.

After a few moments you stopped and turned to see Tommy had taken your place at the fireside and was now laughing, actually laughing, with a few of your cousins.

Aishe took your face in her hands.

“You’re conflicted,” she said, speaking in Romani now. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“I didn't come here for that, Aunt Aishe,” you returned in the same tongue.

“I know. I do.”

You began walking again, waiting for her to tell you what you’d come to learn. She understood and walked alongside you again.

“You know what kind of man he is,” she said.

You nodded.

You did know what kind of man you were dealing with. You’d heard all the rumors about the entire Shelby family. And although he still hadn’t shared the details of their current strategy, Alfie had told you enough over the years to know Tommy Shelby wasn’t to be easily trusted.

“But his heart isn’t entirely black. It’s been battered and bruised over time, but there is good inside of him. And he is genuinely taken with you.”

You walked beside Aishe in silence, watching the sun set and letting her words sink in.

Part of you had hoped she’d tell you he was pure evil and to stay away from him. You wished she’d said you’d be better off to walk away from him for good. But at the same time, you were glad she’d said there was good inside of him. That eased some of the guilt you felt for your feelings toward him. Perhaps you’d sensed the good in him. Perhaps that was what attracted you to him in the first place. Perhaps he was more like Alfie than you’d originally thought.

“There's something else,” Aishe said to you as you turned to walk back toward the camp. “There are lies. And somewhere I sense hatred and great conflict.” She stopped walking and once again held your face in her hands.

“Take care of yourself. Don’t be the fool,” she said before leading you back to the fireside where Tommy was waiting.

__________________

You stumbled into the house, unable to see what was in front of you as it was all covered in thick darkness. Once you found your bearings, you were able to quietly remove your shoes and walk on your toes up the stairs and to your room. You half expected to see Alfie sitting up reading in bed, as he usually did, but he was already asleep, only the soft light from the moon filtering into the room through the curtains. You checked the clock and realized it was much later than you thought.

You prepared for bed as quietly as you could, slipping into one of Alfie’s jumpers to warm yourself. It’d been cold out by the fire, and your insides still felt like they were shivering to get warm.

As you quietly slid into the bed and snuggled up to his back, Alfie spoke.

“And, so? What did she say about him, then?” He asked.

You hadn’t told him where you were going when you left his office that afternoon, but he’d known anyway. He always knew you so well.

He didn’t turn to face you, so you spoke into his back, your lips grazing his skin as you did so.

“She warned me to be cautious. That I’m being lied to.”

“Hmm,” Alfie hummed encouraging you to continue.

You sat up, leaning your weight on your elbow so you could see him better, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Alf,” you said. “I need to know what’s going on.”

He lay there in silence for a few moments, no doubt trying to decide just how much he should tell you. You knew he didn’t want to put you in harm’s way, but you’d told him so many times over the years that you’d much prefer to be in the know so you were always prepared for what could come your way. You accepted his lifestyle, joined it, in fact, and keeping you in the dark wasn’t actually keeping you safe at all--at least that wasn’t the way you saw it.

“Alf,” you said again, after no response came.

He then turned to face you, pulling you back down onto the mattress and into his chest. He kissed the top of your head and looked into your eyes.

“Listen, love, what you need to know is that I’m working with Tommy to throw over these dirty Russians, yeah? And that’s all you need to know, right?” He rubbed a thumb over your cheek and down to your lips, lightly pulling on the bottom one as he watched it quiver under his touch.

You knew what he was trying to do. Alfie often used romance to change the subject. You weren’t going to let him get away with it that easily this time.

“Alfie,” you said, pushing him away playfully. “That’s not going to work. Tell me what’s going on or I swear I’ll find out for myself.”

Alfie cleared his throat, his eyes darting between your own and back to your lips over and over.

He kissed you, pulling you in closer, his tongue exploring your mouth, his breath growing heavy.

You pulled away from him in a last effort to get the information you wanted.

“Alfie,” you breathed out as he dropped his head to your neck, kissing your collar bone, up the delicate skin on the nape of your neck, and pulling your ear into his mouth.

He rolled you over onto your back and let his free hand begin its exploration of your body, moving inside the large sweater and finding your breast.

“Alfie,” you said, with a moan now. You’d given up trying to ask a question and were now just asking for more.

“Just relax, love. We can talk about this later.”

And with that, Alfie moved down your body, licking and nipping at the sensitive skin on your ribs, down your sides, until he found the soft satin of your underwear.

“Just relax,” he said.

You closed your eyes and let yourself forget about it all. You didn’t think of Tommy, of the prediction Aishe had made, of the danger you knew now Alfie was wrapped up in.

At least for that moment, you only thought of Alfie Solomons.

_______________________

You hurried down the stairs to answer the door. The knocking came nonstop, growing louder after you didn’t answer right away. You didn’t even look through the peephole, just wanting whoever it was to stop knocking before it set off the dogs.

The door swung open faster than you planned it, your frustration taking hold.

And there stood Tommy Shelby.

You hadn’t expected any visitors, but you certainly didn’t expect Tommy to show up on your stoop unannounced.

Not knowing what to say, you simply moved back from the door and motioned for Tommy to enter.

He removed his hat as he stepped through the threshold. But you didn’t invite him in further than the foyer and leaned against the wall, folding your arms across your chest, you silently invited him to explain himself.

But he didn’t. Instead, he stood there silently, looking you over.

He was baiting you. And you knew it. But you couldn’t take the awkward silence, so you relented and broke first.

“Alfie told me what’s going on. Said it was your idea that he seduce the duchess,” you said, interested in what his justification might be.

Alfie had implied that, after you’d both been satisfied last night and were drifting off to sleep, but he hadn’t claimed it outright.

“Then he’s lying to you,” Tommy said, leaning against the wall opposite you, mirroring your stance. “In fact, I think he’s lying to you about a lot of things,” he said, staring straight into your eyes.

And that set you off, you took three quick steps toward him and landed a slap across his face that you were sure the neighbors heard.

Tommy barely responded, holding his head steady, eyes still focused on you. You watched as the red bloomed across his cheek.

You stood like a stone, unmoving, closer to him now, breathing deep and fast, shocked at what you’d just done.

When he finally did respond, it was by grabbing your waist, pulling you in close, and kissing you, square on the mouth.

And while your mind wanted you to push him away, to scream at him, to slap him again, your body didn’t react that way.

You returned the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning into his warm, strong frame.

_____________________

Read Chapter 7

Thanks for reading and please, feel free to share any comments or feedback!

Tag list (or, my babes): @chellestrash @evelynshelby @higgles123 @justanothershelby @l0tsofpennies @leilanixx @queenmissfit @peachlle @brianaisasongbird @udontadixonlover @thewallpapergoesorido @peakys-mystic

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fiction #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby #tommy shelby/reader #alfie solomons #alfie solomons/reader #tommy shelby x reader #alfie solomons x reader #out to sea again #HazelNMae

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dearholly · 4 years

Text

Dear Me,

I know why you’re here and I’m not mad. I’m not disappointed. Read this and then go rest. And please be gentle on yourself.

We met at Macy's and immediately hit it off. I think it was a dark sense of humor and a fluency in sarcasm that first bonded us. She was amused and seemingly rapt by everything I had to say. When I eventually left Macy's for a work-at-home job listening to sales calls, I brought her with me. And because he was unemployed, her ex-boyfriend/roommate came with us as well.

They had dated in high school but had long since broken up although hey were still living together in her parent's house after his parents moved to Hawaii without him. I got to know him more when we started at our new positions. As a telecommuting job, here were a lot of opportunities for us to bond over instant messenger. He had a raw, vulnerable quality that drew me to him and I enjoyed how open and free I could be with him. He didn't seem to mind the darker parts of my humor and we bonded over a love of cars and photography.

The first tear in the fabric of everything is, I think, when I admitted to to my husband that I thought I had feelings for Her. He sexualized this confession and internalized it as permission for himself to be attracted to her, which in short turn he started to act on. In some ways, I knew that would happen but but I was terrified of my feelings. I didn't know exactly what I wanted, just that I wanted something else. Something more than what I had. On some level, I believe that I wanted her. But I let my fear and submissiveness get the better of me and chose to put my needs aside for what my husband wanted, which at the time seemed more manageable for me than having to deal with my own inner turmoil.

Throughout their entire flirtation in the beginning, she never came to me to tell me what was going on, or to question it. To this day, I don't even know if she asked my husband whether or not I knew. It might be the years that have since passed shading my opinions in this matter, but I don't believe she ever did ask him. I eventually did come to her to tell her what was going on, but I don't believe that I ever really trusted her again after that, despite our friendship continuing for another five years.

Years later, when I would say all of this out loud to a therapist, I would realize what a hard time I have accepting and advocating for my own feelings. Looking back now, I can tell you I was deeply hurt and extremely angry.

Which is probably what lead me to sleep with Him, her ex-boyfriend slash roommate, on the same night she first slept with my husband. And I did not afford her the same foreknowledge that I had.

But it wasn't all vindication. He and I had been getting very close. We worked together on a wedding I shot in Malibu. I'll never forget when we had some free time in between getting shots and we drove down to the beachier part of the beach to look for some locations to shoot the couple later. It was raining and the beach was empty, so he told me to take the car onto the sand, assuring me that it'd be fine. He was something of an expert on cars, after all. The front tires almost immediately sunk into the sand and we got stuck. As panic mounted in both of us, a friendly gentleman in a Nissan Xterra came by and offered assistance. With some pushing and revving, the car was unstuck. After our Samaritan drove off, He turned to me to apologize and wrapped his arms around me. There's something about being hugged by a person who is much taller than you. In that moment, I fell in love with him. His easy free affection was all it took.

And she had no clue about any of it because I did not do the courtesy of cluing her in. This is what is so dangerous about people who are not even aware of the emotions they're having.

Also, I knew that she would cock block. So the night that she came to my house to fuck my husband, I set up a little date with her ex boyfriend. I took him to a local bar, and explained what was happening with Her and my husband. And then I told him, "But I am here with you." Couldn't keep our hands off each other after that.

I didn't tell her until after the fact and I am positive that there was never a moment after that that she fully trusted me either. We cursed ourselves from the very beginning. And then made things truly awkward by attempting to have a four-way.

They say ignorance is bliss, but denial is true euphoria. And that is where we lived for the next 6 years. We changed our state abbreviation from CA to WA, but we lived in the same place, ignoring red flag after red flag. The chemistry was just bad. But we plundered ahead, all four of us. And when three of us lost our telecommuting jobs, it was Him that found us work again.

I hated the idea from the very beginning (red flag) but said nothing. I resented that he got her a job at the same place he'd gotten me a job and that she'd be starting the day after me, leaving me no time at all to have this one thing for myself. I knew even then that working and living with her would turn out to be a problem. And it did; when something bad happened at work, there was no escape from it at home. When something bad happened at home, there was no escape from it at work. Even though we were on opposite ends of the house, there was just no escaping it. When she was upset, there was a toxic cloud that hung over the whole house. It seeped into everything and was unescapable. It left no room for anyone else to take up any emotional space.

After a while, I stopped getting a period. But because I was living on Denial St, I ignored it for over a year. My doctors wholly admitted that they have no idea how this could have happened at such an early point in my life, but all of them speculated stress, both physical and mental. Prior to losing my period, I had lost a great deal of weight in a small time by over-exercising and under-eating. I was starving myself and then working myself to the point of exhaustion, and if this were the cause of my early menopause, I would not be surprised to find that out.

However, there was no space in my home to have any feelings about this. Because I was of a mind to never have children anyway, it was easy for most people to minimize how deeply it was affecting me, and ignore the active signs that it was doing so. And I never talked about. The feelings were too confusing, too mixed up, to talk about. I didn't understand them myself and there was no room to figure them out there.

A couple months after I got my menopause diagnosis, I started having regular panic attacks. She is the one who suggested I speak to a therapist. She's the one who recommended my first one, actually. And I am still glad that she did. My life really started to turn around at that point. I started in May of that year and by the end of the summer, I had finalized my divorce and moved into my own apartment. And later that year, I started anti depressants.

It is my belief that all of the improvements and growth in my life are what lead she and I to have our initial falling out that next Spring. Through therapy, and medication, and meditation, and all the other ways in which I was working on improving myself, I did eventually grow strong. And so did my boundaries. I started saying "No." more and "Sorry" less. And I stopped accepting unnecessary bullshit that was launched in my direction.

Especially when it is in a shared space in which professionalism is mandatory. After a five month hiatus from the office in which she recovered from an exploding kidney, I invited her to help me train a batch of new hires. During which, at some point, I explained something to one of them which was news to her. She started raising her voice in frustration, demanding to know why she was never told anything, and in general being extremely negative. To be clear, this type of behavior was just something she did. And it always bothered me - something that should be of little to no consequence to her personally, blown up in decibels and f-bombs. Like her brother dating someone she didn't approve of. Or her roommate's cousin marrying someone she didn't approve of. Or her cousin dating someone she didn't approve of. Or her aunts doing or saying something she didn't approve of. I often thought about buying her a robe and gavel for how judgmental and salty she could be to the people she supposedly loved. But I digress....

I am a deeply private person. So in that moment in our office, I was completely mortified. Here are these strangers I am trying to set a good example for, and here she comes with her Debbie Downer bullshit. I shut the conversation down as fast as I could by leaving it immediately. But later I sent a text explaining why that was over the line and why I was upset. A day later, I received some half assed apology about how she felt she was being left behind at work, and that somehow justified the disrespect. Like it was acceptable behavior because she was in pain.

I didn't respond. For one, because I was knee deep (literally) in dog fur, trying to shave my Maltese mutt. And for another, I thought that what needed to be said had been said. Her response didn't change mine. And so the next day, I went to her apartment as I did every Monday to do my laundry. As I was putting the laundry into the washing machine, I heard her bedroom door open. Before I could even look up from my dirty jeans and towels, I hear "Oh... Hi." and I turn just in time to see a flash of red hair whipping behind a slamming door.

At that point, I start to have a panic attack, assuming the slammed door was for me and my face. But I breathe through it and decide its best left aone. She's still upset and I don't have the bandwidth to find out why. I'm done volunteering for whatever that is. At work, I try to be cordial. With Him, I try to maintain boundaries and I tell him nothing that happens between she and I.

A few days go by. One night, I go pick him up and we have dinner at a diner down the street from his place. He's visibly upset, and he's using that soft whispery tone that usually precedes a fucking nightmare. Over my country fried chicken, I ask him what's wrong. He asks why I am ignoring her. I tell him I am not. And that after having a door slammed at me, I'm giving whatever she is dealing with a wide berth. He convinces me to reach out to her to try and resolve the issue.

So I try to do that. But I'm annoyed and I say entirely the wrong thing, from the very start. I tell her "Stop telling people I'm ignoring you." Rather than "I am not ignoring you, Friend. Rather trying to give you space to deal with whatever it is you're dealing with because I don't understand it"... which eventually I do say, but it's too late. My tone is too incendiary. I'm too angry now. And I no longer feel as if this is anything worth saving anymore. She feels the same way. So she tells me we can no longer be friends. I'm hurt that she said that, but more disappointed that she said it first, and I accept that this is the way things will be. I block her on every social media platform we have in common.

Things are instantly strained between He and I. I ask him repeatedly not to get involved because I will be the one accused of it. But he can't help himself from being upset because she's upset. They have no boundaries at all between them. I tell him I need a break from him. He accuses me of "dropping him" the same way I "dropped Her" And so we break up.

For about 2 months. And then one night, I happen to get a late bus out of Seattle and sit across from him. He was coming from work. And I was coming from a bar. Were it not for the tequila, I probably would never have moved next to him. We made very little conversation all the way to our bus stop. I don't remember what I said. Probably just that I missed him and that I wish things had been different. We started talking again after that. And things were better, for a time. Between he and I, anyways.

What happened then between she and I is what sealed our friendship to the annals of history forever...

One night, while late in bed, I get an email notification from tumblr telling me I had a new follower. And its Her. Through several name/address changes, on the one platform I did not think to block her from, there she was following me. Looking down on that message as it glowed up at me from under the covers, witnessing the little smirk in her user avatar, I started to shake. The blog I thought I had made for myself, similar to this one, where I had the space to ruminate and collect thoughts, had been violated and invaded. Like every other aspect of my life, by her.

I did not react well to this discovery. At first, I made several passive aggressive posts directed at her and then deleted each one. And then I went directly to her, asking her to stop as I didn't think it was appropriate for her to be following me. Her response was to laugh at me, and mock something I had said in one of the passive aggressive and deleted posts I made. I'm not ashamed to admit that my reaction was explosive. I hurled every shitty thing I could think of to say inside one sentence and then deleted the entire messaging system we were using to communicate (which at the time was Slack). Later, when I apologized for my terrible reaction, she doubled down on the insults and called me a hypocrite for expecting that there be boundaries between myself and the person who said they never wanted to speak to me again. And so a final decision was made that this was not worth saving. So I blew it up over two lengthy emails.

I don't even remember what I said. And I don't want to. I suspect my brain is protecting me like a heat shield protects a satellite that is being hurled back to earth. I do remember what she said, which is that I proved her therapists right and that I had always been a bad person. I remember this because my therapist had lead me to the same conclusion about herself. Funny how even in our friendship death, we still have things in common.

A day or two after she followed me on tumblr, I updated the configuration of my blog that said no one could access via the app that wasn’t one of my followers, essentially ensuring that whoever was going to visit my site was going to do so in broad daylight. And then I installed a counter that tracked IP addresses of visitors who came to my blog. For months, she continued to check on it. It was like she couldn’t help it. She was clearly sick. So to test the lengths to which she would go to find it, I changed the name once again and sent Him a link to a post. Lo and behold one week later, there is the entry from his phone visiting. And then a few days later another, closely followed by Her IP again. Tumblr would be the first of many spaces that she colonized and evicted me from. It's not a coincidence that I struggled to find a voice after that or that I have not been able to write with anything approaching ease in the last few years.

I didn't see her or talk to her for months. She had stopped coming into the office. I stopped hearing sirens in my head when I saw her name, so I unblocked her on social media. After all, we still share friends and having gotten what I wanted all along (space), my anger had evaporated.

But according to my boss, she still used the fact that we no longer got along as an excuse to work from home. As if I had been the one shouting at her in the office, as if I had caused a hostile work place. It's no small coincidence, in my mind, that I was let go by our boss very shortly after she returned to the office regularly. I can't prove it, but I believe she contributed to it. And unfortunately, it wouldn't be the last time she actively set out to hurt me.

When I lost my job, I lost my insurance and therefore, access to my therapist. And I had to start rationing my anti-depressants. I fell into the deepest darkest depression of my life. And it did not help that this was all in the dead of winter, when the sun barely came out long enough for me to see it and run outside. Through the rest of December and January, I submitted dozens of applications and copies of my resume. Finally, at the end of January when I had had to start cutting each of my Lexapro's in half to get by, I got a call for an interview for a company in New York. They hired me almost immediately, and before I knew it I was being sent to New York to be trained. It was right around the same time that I found out the remaining members of the team I had hired at my previous job, Her and several others had been let go unexpectedly. I'd love to say that there was no part of me that received any amount of pleasure upon hearing that, but I'd be lying. I definitely gloated. It felt good to know that things were going wrong for them, for her, when things had just started to go right for me after they messed them up so poorly. In all of my self righteousness I opined to a mutual friend about how bleak Her household must be because I believed it probably was. It sucks to lose one's job and I would know all about that. That mutual friend, knowing that I had a relationship with Him at this time, mistook my opinion as though I had heard it was bleak in the household directly from Him. So the next time our mutual friend spoke with Her, our mutual friend voiced some concerns about the state of how things were going for the two of them. Her spoke to Him later, demanding to know why He is telling me in particular that things in their house are not fine. Which leads him to send a group chat message...

It's 7AM EST early February and I'm in the Best Western of Troy, New York reading my text messages. He has sent one to our entire friend group, demanding that if any of us are speaking about him to stop it immediately; leave him out of all conversation - She is upset that there has been any talk at all. I tell him that request is impossible as we're all friends who care about each other and I refuse to be isolated in any way from any of them. Meanwhile, sirens are going off in my head. I hear my mother's voice, warning me about domestic abusers who isolate their victims from their friends to perpetuate their abuse. I silence it. After all, I still live on the corner of Denial St and The-Dick- Is-Big Ave.

Eventually, a one-on-one conversation is started between He and I. He insinuates that it is the group chat itself that is the issue, because she is not allowed to be in it. I tell him I think it's valid that she is not in it as I am, and I want her to remain firmly out of my space. Which is a mutual feeling between the two of us, or so I thought. And anyway, I tell him, it's her that has me blocked on every social media platform we had in common.

It's at this point he calls me a liar. And it's at this point the story should have ended but I still have a severe lack of love for myself, no therapeutic support, am low on my anti depressants, and completely isolated in New York for the next two weeks.

He tells me he has her search for me on Facebook and Instagram and she finds nothing, which proves that it is I that have her blocked therefore I it is me doing the lying. Which, anyone who knows anything about social media will tell you, this is expected behavior if you have someone blocked. But he hardly ever engages with social media, let alone take the time to understand it, so this is lost on him.

I'm immediately triggered. I have to leave the office where I'm being trained for my new job and walk back to my hotel to catch my breath before I vomit up the coffee and cake that our sales manager brought as a welcome gift. The words "At this point, yeah I do think you're lying." keep swimming back up to me from a little grey bubble. I call him and scream into his voicemail. "...I do think you're lying to me," ... My hands practically vibrating, I take a screen recording of all of my blocked lists and send it to him. "...you're lying to me..." I black out for a moment, thoughts of my mothers fists raining down on me as I'm being called a liar in the backseat of her car. I sob into my hotel pillow. I feel broken.

But it’s the middle of the day, I’ve had this job for all of two days and I cannot be having a massive freak out this early on. I take one of my precious remaining Ativan and try to breathe. Eventually, I calm myself. In a sick twist, I end up apologizing to him for screaming and overreacting. I open myself up further and explain to him why being called a liar is a trigger for me. This was a pattern with us; The only way he ever had compassion for me when we argued (and sometimes when we weren't) was when I spelled out exactly what I was going through. I thought if I was honest about my feelings with him, he would treat me with more dignity. But as a matter of fact, it turned out when I was crying on his shoulder, he felt as if I was manipulating him. He told me that once when I called him, sad because someone I had a crush on had started dating someone else. I was never sure what I was supposedly manipulating him to do. Spend time with me? Show concern for me? But despite that, I take a huge risk, expose my jugular to him again and beg for him to understand where I am coming from.

He apologizes. He comes over and we have a quiet talk. For a very short time, things go back to whatever normal is to us. We're communicating a little more and I think we're being more honest. But things aren't the same. We're still very vulnerable. I never knew if he sensed that or not. I'd like to believe that if he did, his behavior would have been different. But his behavior remained rough, and careless.

A little over a month after I returned from New York, he had invited me to his house while she was away. The entire experience was unnerving. For one, the apartment felt cold and dark. It was not very inviting. For another, He was relegated to sleeping on a roll up mat on the floor while She had a bed and a closing door with a closet and a window. This really bothered me. I thought there would be more of a separation, or a at least a clear division of space. A boundary. I look desperately for boundaries, but there were none. Her makeup vanity was directly behind his work desk and above the space he used to sleep in. And there was no trace of me there at all. But of course there wouldn't be. She wouldn't allow it. And he never cared enough about me to change that in any sense. So I started to really see for the first time that our relationship was just sex for him. I couldn't see clearly that we even had a friendship anymore and this really bothered me.

I wanted to talk to him about it, and I asked him if we could. I'm not even sure what I wanted to say, but I just needed reassurance that he was still friends with me. That he still liked me. That he was, even though he was far away, still somewhat in my corner. I was feeling anxious, I was low on my medicine, with no therapist, working 12 hour days and still broke from being unemployed for months. I just wanted to talk and have him reassure me that at the very least, he was there for me and would be there for me. He agreed to that and we scheduled a time to talk, because at that point he was extremely busy with work and trying to balance everything, as was I. The afternoon we had worked out to talk comes and goes, and I don't hear from him. I message him and I express annoyance because we had plans, but he tells me that he had an outing with Her, and it went long. And then he expresses annoyance at me for being annoyed at him. He goes on the defensive. I completely unravel over a string of messages, which of course are poorly timed and one right after the other, which I know he hates. He engages his favorite tactic which is to leave the conversation entirely, tell me he's not speaking to me for a while, and then come back at his whim. He does this over a few days. He responds to each of my texts individually, escalating in each response until he's screaming at me in all caps and has worked himself back into the rage which makes him walk away.

I'm at the point where I'm looking at this pile of garbage relationship which has twice in the past two months shoved me into two of the worst, most ill-timed panic attacks I've ever had - and finally I hear my therapist's voice ring back to me as clear as a bell: He will never leave her, and he will never choose you. Everything that my denial had been holding at bay like a sweet little naïve raincloud crashed down all at once around me with the force of a tornado. It was the way there was never any compassion or kindness shown to me at the worst time of my life. It was the way he called me a liar and a manipulator when I was trying to include him in my deepest most personal feelings and experiences. It was the way he never noticed that I was blowing up my life with alcohol or that I was deeply depressed. It was the way he lied over and over again, telling me that he cared about me and then turning around to demonstrate why that wasn't actually true. It was the way I had to bend over backwards to accommodate his feelings, while there was never any room for mine.

And so, as anticlimactically as it began, our relationship finally ended. I don't even remember what the final blow was, or what I said in response. No doubt something shaky and angry and ugly. But I have never regretted it. For as ugly as I know it probably was, I do not regret it. My life, my health both mental and physical, has improved exponentially since that day in late April.

But if there is a hopeful epilogue to the story, it would pick up six months later when I had settled into my new place in the city, to be closer to work. I started to feel those pangs again. Those little flighty feathery feelings that can be so strong they echo across decades with such intensity that you can almost physically feel their presence inside your skin where they hibernate. It was the same feeling that made me sit down next to him on the bus all that time ago. I missed him. In spite of everything that happened, everything I learned, and went through, I did. But it wasn't until I started to feel as though I missed Her too that I knew I had to get back into therapy. A queer friend of mine who had been struggling through their own relationship issues, suggested a co-op place in Seattle they'd been using which was geared specifically to women and those who identify as such. Signing up with them was probably the best decision I'd end up making in my 30's. The therapist I was paired with was understanding, validating, and I never sensed once that she was bored with anything I had to say. She equipped me with the best tools to deal with my feelings, she taught that it's okay to love and protect myself through setting and maintaining healthy boundaries. And the best part about her is that she herself maintained extremely healthy boundaries. I never knew more about her than I needed to know. Yet I felt like I connected with her on a very deep level. And through talking to her, working with her, I was able to fully understand and appreciate what I had just been through, and how to exercise compassion for myself when I would find myself in situations where I would start reliving all of that trauma. Because of her, I found myself again. Or maybe I found myself for the first time. She helped me understand the feelings I'd been having for years but hadn't had the space or emotional support to explore. She helped me put a name to a feeling I’d had since childhood but never knew there was a word for. Not long after I started working with her, I came out as non-binary. Through our work, I found a deep well of love for myself that allows me to firmly (but with patience and love) define and protect my boundaries, and still have enough energy left over show interest, compassion and love for others in their journeys. And I stopped trying to avoid feeling like shit through drinking. Literally, everything became better a result of my therapist's influence on me.

But try as I might, there are some days in the year where my mind wanders back to the grey north where I tried to make a home. When I can almost hear the drizzle of rain in Occidental Park as I cried my eyes out there over something He said. In my mind's eye, I turn away, but the neighborhood is haunted with these types of traumas for me. Nowhere is safe, my mind panics, and I get turned around in the horrid memories; screaming at each other on 1st Avenue outside E Smith, sobbing so hard on 2nd that a stranger asked me if I was okay, countless arguments in the park that followed us to the bus stop and back to our home. Eventually, my mind grows desperate for answers, and it carries me back in time... all the way back to 2010 at Macy's when it began, and the loop starts again.

Which brings me to today. I've lost count of how many times we've been down this road. But I know grief is hard. And so is recovery. One of the ways in which I see to my recovery now is to write more. I don't usually publish what I write because it's just for me and I still have a lot of residual anxiety about posting anything personal online. Another reason is that my writing is so fluid that publishing it seems too final. Like... what if I change my mind about that way I've structured a sentence? What if I think of a better way to phrase that feeling? What if I change my mind entirely about the thing that I've written about? ...Why use a period if I could use a comma?

But I'm publishing this note anyway. For you, future Holly. Because you need this to be over. And because whenever we get into this rut, the only thing we seem to be able to do to stop ourselves from missing them and reminiscing about the good times is to walk ourselves through the trauma that they ended up causing. Which is effective in getting the sad feelings to stop, but you know is burning you alive on the inside. And so I'm writing this note to tell you (future me) that we don't have to do that anymore. You can set these thoughts and feelings down in language and writing, and be done. You can publish them, and move on. You can walk away. Put a period on the end of the sentence and close the book.

But if you ever feel as though you need to mutilate yourself mentally by trying to list it all out again, so that you can poke it and dissect it and review it in triplicate... I will be here. Waiting to remind you that nothing you have ever done disqualifies you from being afforded compassion and kindness. Waiting to remind you that you deserve better friends, better love, than those that would afford you only scraps. Waiting to remind you that your anger is valid, along with your hurt and your sadness. And also waiting to remind you that this is temporary. These feelings are temporary. Give yourself the space today to feel what you are feeling. Let yourself be sad. Let yourself be angry. And tomorrow when you wake up, let it all go.

I love you. -H

#note to self #aubviously #muad-dweeb #fear is the mind killer #holly hearts

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wolfxdayz · 4 years

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So random ass short story I wrote about hemlock grove that I may or may not ever finish

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Heart Heart Head

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"Just do it man! It's over !" The upir gasped his body broken and unresponsive as he stared at the animal that used to be his friend/something more. "My body is broken and look at you! You're gonna live out the rest of your days as goddamn animal !"

The beast in question flinched as if the words physically hurt, and whined ears laid back as the large white wolf trembled slightly, even now instincts and heart fighting against each other . With one last weak growl the animal walked up to the upir and Quickly lunged for the throat snapping the neck for an instant kill, a small mercy that the last human part of

Peter could give to his suffering friend, before Digging into the tall boy's chest and pulling out the heart walking away feeling as if his own heart had been pulled out as well, tears in the wolfs eyes before he sunk into the oblivion of insanity .

Lynda woke up with a gasp, breathing heavily and feeling tears fall down her face as she clutched her Chest small sobs leaving her shaking frame.

Something was wrong something had happened to her baby boy, her good little boy .. Her good little man. She could feel it in the same way she felt the crack go through her entire body, when the doctor snapped Peter's collar bone in half. in order to help the newborn get unstuck from her birth canal.

She rushed to the bathroom and lurched over the toilet giving up the remains of dinner as she curled into a ball.

Zenada one of Peter's great Aunts placed a hand on her shoulder, "O simt de asemenea, acest lucru este ceva nu mama vrea să treacă prin , voi spune o rugăciune pentru sufletul său înainte de a pleca"

(i feel it too, this is something no mother wants to go through, I will say a prayer for his soul before you leave. )

The old woman gave Lynda a towel to wash her face and left yelling for husband to wake his lazy ass up and find her prayer book and light the candles and prepare a small offering for a safe journey.

The morning sun was just breaking over the Carpathian Mountains, when the small family sat in a circle candles surrounding a picture of a younger Peter around Four or Five holding a slightly disgruntled Black Cat and grinning delightedly up at the family. His hair wasn't as long but it did flop around like a mop.

Lynda felt a lump in her throat as she reached for the picture but stopped they were not allowed to touch the dead an old tradition to stop the spread of the plague.

Zenda and her Husband Alek, sat next to the grieving mother.

Zenda placed a hand on her shoulder, "Nicolai will meet him in the meadows don't worry.." She squeezed her shoulder and brought out the small plate of food an offering for the spirit to help him on his journey.

Alek took a breath before starting the prayer, Lynda closed her eyes and tried not to sob as much during the service.

It was a while after standing outside in their small yard that they burned all the letters Peter ever sent his mother, so his spirit wouldn't have any reason to linger behind.

When the smoke cleared and all that was left was ashes Zenda came up to the grieving mother, "..you know what you must do.. His soul won't rest Until it is done.. Think of it as letting him sleep.." She placed a hand on Lynda's shoulder. ".. The Rumancek line was destined for tragedy since the beginning when vârcolac fell in love with Upir. You know Mikal did not mean to hurt that cold girl child Olivia .. Upir breed she was.

He came back to her after selling the items and getting money for them both but by then she was gone and blood was in water.. They were never meant to be.." She gave her shoulder a squeeze, she knew what it meant to marry a Rumancek, many tribes have heard the story and seen the way the Vargulf's ran amok in the family line, Nicolai her husbands poor younger brother .. The pain and destruction he caused near the end of his days.

Perhaps this was a good thing the Rumancek's kept the Vargulf from spreading to other tribe's moon children, by sadly setting the example of what not to do.

Never change on wrong moon,

Never fall in love with Upir, they can't love anyway.

Never marry a Rumancek they will eat you whole .

A few weeks later Lynda found herself with some new forged documents and passport on a plane heading back to the states, to hemlock grove.

She landed at Harrisburg international and got through customs with little hassle her documents making their way through security, she then got herself a little rental car and small motel to stay the night, she felt strangely numb, as if everything was a dream. She was back in the states , she was here to see her son one last time before-.

She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror, she still looked normal not like a mother who just lost everything, who was here to put her son to sleep.

She tried to get herself to cry to feel something but it was like there was a ice cold wall around her, it was both a blessing by God and a curse from her heritage.

She was grateful for the cold numbness that surrounded her, protected her from the reality of the situation helped her eat like normal and tip the friendly waitress at the all night diner near her motel.

She was sipping some tea and staring off when suddenly she caught site of her baby boy her little Peter, he was 6 years old and charming some of her old coworkers into getting him some extra ice cream secretly of course.

They just couldn't resist his little blue-green eyes, those were the same eyes that begged Lynda to let them keep a cat even though they spent most of their time on the road, the same eyes that held such an intense hint of sadness and guilt whenever he asked if he was the reason he didn't have a daddy like other boys.

Those same eyes that lit up whenever she brought him a sketchbook for his birthday and always held a gentle warmth for the few special people in his life.

Lynda blinked and suddenly it was all gone she was sitting in a nearly empty diner holding on to a tea cup for dear life, the ice wall had its first small crack.

She got up and left putting her jacket back on and her hands touched the pearl necklace briefly remembering their first day in hemlock grove and how her son had gotten her a moving in present with his ever so clever five finger discount.

Another tiny crack appeared in her wall.

She walked back to her motel room and just crawled into bed letting the numbness take her to sleep. She was in California again Peter was 9, and was walking in front of her. they were in the redwood forest the trees were as tall as skyscrapers and she felt so small and unimportant underneath them, and yet her son did not, he felt at home here, as he told her all about the things he found on his full moon run here and all the animals he either chased off or timidly befriended.

"...Would you ever like to stay here Peter?." She asked wondering if her son ever wanted to just settle and maybe be normal well as normal as a young werewolf could be.

Peter turned towards her and tilted his head to the side, ".. Stay? Like forever?" He asked,

".. Perhaps " she smiled, ". We could get a house maybe an apartment more cats and you can keep going to school here"

Peter was quiet for a moment before shaking his head and scrunching up his face "..no I'd miss our car too much.. I like the road I like driving with you .." He then ran to her and hugged her tightly. "..its just me and you mama! forever!" He suddenly turned as he saw something that caught his eye, a bright yellow bird flew by, he was chasing it and Lynda suddenly found herself unable to move. She could only watch as a large white .. Beast that was the only thing to describe the wolf like creature a beast a Vargulf jumped out and ate her little boy whole right in front of her-

Lynda woke up with a shuddering gasp holding her chest and feeling tears prick at her eyes but they didn't fall they too were kept behind the ice wall the closed around her as she sat there in bed. She ran her hands through her hair and gently touched the necklace. ".. You're in my heart.. In my head .." She mumbled to herself an old Lullaby from when Peter was a baby, barely a month old and colicky.

Soon she was in her rental car passing by the welcome to Hemlock Grove sign, her ice wall still protecting her as she drove into the main part of town and stopped by destiny's place, where was her niece? Wasn't she getting married? Why did she never write back?

She parked not to far off and was soon walking down some familiar streets she walked up the stairs to destiny's flat and knocked on the door, perhaps her niece could help with this numbness that seemed to be her very being.

She waited as she heard someone come near the door and was surprised to see a young dark skinned male with long dreadlocks answer the door.

".. can I help you?" The man asked confused as to why there was an older woman in his doorway.

". ... .... uh n-no I'm sorry I just thought .. um my niece used to live here .. she was the former tenet do you know if she moved?" Lynda asked trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

".. uh no mam sorry apparently there was some sort of accident and the lady went missing got this place for cheap cause of it .." he shrugged .

".. oh.. ok.. thank you so much .." she quickly turned and left walking briskly out of the apartment complex.

Destiny wasn't missing she could feel it .. she was.- . She didn't want to think about it .

Lynda went back to her Rental car and drove around for a bit, heading up to the old trailer when something ran across the road, a large white dog? No that wasn't a dog, her heart lept in to her throat as she watched the wolf run away from a nearby flower shop a small bundle of mix matched flowers in its maw as the owner screamed at him and threw some rocks already dialing animal control.

The wolf ran in front of her car and down the road, Lynda quickly followed praying that it was just a random wolf and not her son.

She followed it for sometime and was surprised to see it slip into hemlock grove's cemetery.

She parked her car on the side of the road and got out opening the gate and trying to find him again.

She was walking around the rows of

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untamedvargulf · 5 years

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Heart Heart Head

So when season 3 happened I wrote this little Fic about Lynda .. and well it’s not finished but here it is might finish it later !!

season 3 spoilers under read more !