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queenmagnusao3 · 3 years

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Lin had been in a bad mood all week.

Kya was leaving in a few days for the South Pole and she’d be gone for a whole month. She wasn’t upset with Kya, they had discussed the expectations of their relationship at length and Lin had said she was okay with the reality that Kya was going to have to be away for various periods of time.

But it didn’t mean she had to like it.

She was always in a foul mood right before Kya left… and while she was gone. She tried not to bring it to work with her but it was hard not to. She’d chew out some poor, unsuspecting subordinate before holing herself up in her office. She saw the knowing looks that passed between the select few who were a part of her inner circle.

It had been Mako who had made the connection between her bad moods and Kya’s trips away from the city. He had mentioned it to Saikhan who had grown a pair and said something to Lin directly. He had left her office pretty quickly, nobody speaking of it again.

But they knew. And she was honestly glad they knew.

Any friendly chatter in the bullpen died as she walked through the desks to her office, closing the door behind her without a word. She was halfway to her desk when her phone rang and she cursed loudly, crossing to the desk and yanking the phone up to her ear.

“What?!”

“Well that’s not a very friendly greeting.”

Lin relaxed a bit at the sound of Kya’s voice.

“I’m sorry. What is it?”

“I know how upset you are that I’m leaving for so long-“

“I’m not upset. I want you to go.”

Lin winced. That didn’t come out the way she meant it.

“Just let me finish Lin. Tenzin and Pema have some event tonight and they asked if I would keep an eye on the kids. And I was wondering if you would join me.”

“Kya, I”

“This will be one of our last nights together for a while. I know it’s not ideal but I just really want to spend as much time with you as possible.”

Oh, she was good. Most people had the wrong idea of Kya. She had somehow managed to give herself the image of being some wise and innocent master healer. But Lin knew better. Kya was much more complicated than that. And she had a rap sheet that put Su’s to shame. It wasn’t anything serious, mostly protests or defacing of property but Lin would wager most people didn’t know that about the master waterbender.

“That’s a low blow, Master Kya.”

“I know, but it’s true. And I know the kids would love to see you. Please, Lin.”

She didn’t know when she had gone so soft but before she could comprehend how it happened, she found herself agreeing to babysit Tenzin’s kids and was actively helping Kya put the four of them to bed.

Lin slipped out of Rohan and Meelo’s room as Kya quietly followed behind her, closing the door with a soft click.

“What-“

Kya silenced her by covering her mouth with a warm hand, bringing her index finger to her own mouth in a shushing motion. She walked past Lin towards the main living area, waving for her to follow. Once they were in the kitchen Kya spent just a moment listening.

“I think we’re safe.”

“What do you mean?”

“You always need to give it a few minutes of quiet before trusting the kids are actually asleep. If they hear anything that might indicate they’re missing out on something it’s all over and we’d have to start the nighttime routine all over again.”

Lin perched on the edge of one of the counters as Kya started clearing away dirty dishes. She watched as the waterbender made small movements with her hands, the water literally bending to her will as she made quick work of cleaning off the various bits of food stuck on them. Lin mused to herself that she wouldn’t mind cleaning so much if she could make the water do most of the work for her.

“I didn’t know you were so good with kids.”

Kya laughed and Lin felt her heartrate increase at how beautiful she looked when she smiled. She looked to Lin over a shoulder.

“Lin, I’m the oldest of three siblings. Spirits, I’m the oldest of all of you. Well, except Zumi. But she doesn’t count because she didn’t live in the city growing up. Listening to you all crying and whining all the time, being a full time, unpaid babysitter… best birth control there is. Well that and being a lesbian.”

A decent stack of clean dishes was piling up and Lin hopped down from the counter, grabbing a towel and getting to work drying them.

“You’re not so bad with kids yourself, you know.”

“Yes well, I practically raised Su when my mother wasn’t home. Which was pretty much all the time.”

Lin focused intently on the plate she was drying but she could feel Kya watching her. She was working on working through her childhood traumas but it was still a sore subject. And Lin really didn’t want to talk about it right now. She hoped Kya would pick up on that and steer the conversation away from Lin’s complicated upbringing. With a rare stroke of luck the phone rang, Kya flicking her hands quickly so the water returned to the sink before bolting for the phone.

“Hello. Yes, this is Kya. Right now? I’m kind of busy at the moment. Yes, I understand. No, it’s okay. Just give me a little time. Yes. Thank you.”

Kya hung up the receiver and turned slowly to Lin with a look Lin did not like at all.

“Kya…”

“Lin, I’m sorry but I have to go. One of my mother’s old students is very ill and asked for her personally. Obviously mom isn’t coming to the city right now so I’m the next best thing.”

“Kya, you can’t leave me alone with the kids.”

“They’re asleep. It’ll be fine.”

“And if they wake up?”

“Lin, I’m sorry but I have to go. If they wake up you’ll have to figure something out. Just think of what your mother used to do if you or Su got up after being put to bed.”

Lin snorted. Her and Su wouldn’t even make it to their bedroom door before Toph would bend a piece of earth in their path that would not so gently push them back towards the bed until they got the picture and accepted defeat. Once Lin had gotten a handle on earthbending it had become more of a game. For both her and Su. Trying to see who could get the closest to outsmarting their mother. The only time Lin had gotten the upper hand before the age of 12 was when Tenzin had helped her “float” above the floor with his airbending so Toph couldn’t sense her. It was one of the few times her mother had actually said she was proud of Lin, at least out loud.

Kya walked to Lin and took her hands, planting a gentle kissing on her cheek.

“I promise you’ll be fine.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t guarantee.”

Kya rolled her eyes, moving to the door to slip on her shoes. Lin helped her with her bag and crossed her arms as Kya opened the door to leave.

“I’ll be back before the sun rises.”

“Be careful.”

“Always am, chief.”

She gave her a lazy salute and Lin rolled her eyes, watching her descend the stairs. Once she was out of visual sight Lin stomped her foot to the ground and used her seismic sense to follow Kya until she was completely out of range.

Lin let out a long sigh making to close the door. She froze as bright light flashed across the sky followed a few seconds later by a low rumble off in the distance. Her mouth got dry as she closed the door with a quiet click. Of course there would be a thunderstorm while she was on Air Temple Island alone.

She felt her chest tighten and tried to control her breathing, willing her thoughts to stop spiraling. But she couldn’t stop the memories that hit her. A darkening sky. The sound of rain as it pinged against her scorched armor. A masked face. A cold thumb pressed against her forehead…

Another loud boom of thunder sounded, close enough to make the house shudder and Lin jumped, closing her eyes tight. She felt something then. Light, barely there, footsteps running down the hall towards her.

Lin wiped her eyes quickly, just in time to relax her face as Rohan came running into the room. His heartbeat was pounding and his eyes wide with fear. At least she wasn’t the only one who didn’t care for the storm.

She softened her face into a smile and walked to him, holding her arms out. He didn’t hesitate at all before running to her and she picked him up easily, his tiny legs wrapping around her waist.

“It’s all right. It’s just a storm. I’ve got you.”

He buried his face in her chest and Lin smiled. She didn’t know why she had been so worried. She could handle this.

“Let’s get you back into bed.”

“No!”

“I’ll sit with you until the storm is gone, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay.”

Lin carried him quietly down the hall to the room he shared with Meelo.

“Now we have to be quiet so we don’t wake up your brother, okay?”

Rohan lifted his head from her chest and nodded quickly. She pushed open the door and moved to the small bed in the farthest corner of the room. She glanced over at Meelo who was completely covered by his blankets but thankfully still sleeping. Lin sat on the edge of Rohan’s bed and he jumped from her arms, immediately pulling his own blanket over his head. Just as she started to coax him into laying down lightning flashed again and Lin closed her eyes in anticipation of what was to come.

The storm must be right over them now because the next boom of thunder shook the house so badly that the windows rattled. Lin heard a shrill scream from one of the rooms down the hall and she watched as Meelo shot 4 feet into the air on a gust of wind, startling awake.

Perfect.

Lin carefully uncovered Rohan, the young airbender not waiting for an invitation before jumping back into Lin’s arms. They stood and turned to where Meelo now sat with his eyes wide and staring.

“Come on, Meelo. You can ride on my back.”

Lin suspected that Meelo wasn’t actually all that frightened of the storm but wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to take full advantage of Lin’s offer. He jumped on her back and she felt it in her knees. When did the kid get so heavy? He got into a more comfortable position and Lin lead them all into the and down the hall towards Ikki’s room.

“Ikki?”

A small head popped out from under her blankets. Lin walked to the edge of the bed and started to sit, Meelo jumping from her back and perching on the corner of his sister’s bed while Rohan curled up against her chest. The rain was coming down hard now and the thunder and lightning was going off at regular intervals.

Rohan was still holding tightly to Lin and as she looked at Ikki’s nervous face she knew there was only one thing to do.

“Ikki, move over so I can lay down next to you.”

The young girl’s face lit up in apparent surprise but she moved over without a word. Lin pried Rohan from her arms and laid him on the bed next to Ikki before shuffling herself into the position next to him.

“Can, can you be in the middle? Just so I know you’re really here.”

Lin refrained from letting out a sigh before she shifted Rohan to her other side, inching herself closer to Ikki. She immediately nestled into Lin’s side and she could feel her heartbeat slow. Meelo was already asleep sitting up against the wall and Lin was hopeful she would be able to sneak away before long.

Of course, the universe had other plans as the loudest crack of thunder yet rang out across the sky. Even Lin herself jumped at the sound and Ikki let out another shriek. Meelo seemed a bit more concerned now as he moved closer to Lin, taking up the spot between the wall and Ikki.

“Are you guys okay?”

Lin started as she looked up to see Jinora standing in the doorway. That girl really was twinkletoes the third, she hadn’t even heard her approach.

“Everything is fine. It appears not everyone is a fan of the storm.”

“Oh, okay. I’m glad everyone is okay.”

Lin raised an eyebrow as Jinora still lingered in the doorway.

“Maybe you can come join us and help me keep an eye on these three?”

The teenager’s face relaxed as she climbed up to join them, curling up at the foot of the bed with her head against Lin’s legs. There was another flash of lightning and Lin decided she had had enough. Before the thunder could disturb them she wriggled her right hand free from under Ikki and made a quick, violent movement with her hand. Thick slabs of earth shot up from the floor to the ceiling, soundproofing their little room against the raging storm outside. She had left a small opening by the doorway so she could make her escape once they were asleep again.

It didn’t take long for the four tiny heartbeats to slow to a resting pace but it was then that Lin realized she was in the unfortunate situation of not being able to move without risking waking everyone up again. She took in a deep breath and weighed her options. She could move in one quick motion and hope for the best. But she was already so tired and didn’t want to deal with any more bedtime routines. She supposed she could just close her eyes for a bit, at least until the storm had passed. She shifted slightly, getting as comfortable as she could with the gaggle of airbenders she was surrounded by. She’d just close her eyes for a few minutes…

///////////

It had taken Kya longer than she expected to return to the island, the thunderstorm making it impossible for the ferry to make the trip across the bay. She hoped Lin was doing okay, last she knew Tenzin’s kids weren’t overly fond of storms.

What Kya didn’t expect was to find Lin completely passed out in a bed with her nieces and nephews draped all over her. Rohan had his head on Lin’s chest, her arm wrapped around him protectively as an impressive drool stain spread across Lin’s shirt. Ikki and Meelo were back to back on Lin’s other side, Ikki hugging Lin’s arm close to her as she rested her head on Lin’s shoulder. Jinora was curled on her side at the foot of the bed, her head resting in between Lin’s sprawled legs.

Lin’s face was more relaxed than Kya had seen it in a long while. Even in sleep, her partner was full of tension but right now she looked peaceful. Kya smiled as she backed out of the room, avoiding the large stone slabs Lin must have used to shelter the room from the loud sounds of the storm.

The house was quiet and Kya dragged herself to Tenzin and Pema’s empty bed, determined to get a little bit of sleep before the sun began to rise. She smiled again as the image of Lin and the kids snuggled together flashed in her mind. She laid her head down, sleep overtaking her as soon as her eyes had closed.

#legend of korra #kyalin #lin beifong #fanfic

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thebrixtons · 3 years

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questions & answers about your oc!

i was tagged by the lovely @wa-royal-tea! i’m super late to this, but it was sm fun to do and a really good character writing exercise !! i’m tagging @nexility-sims, @thestenhams, and @evandroyals for this oc questions & answers tag game 💗

q&a is under the cut!!

1) What is your favorite sport?

Soccer! Or football, depending on where you’re from, I guess.

2) What is your favorite color?

Sage green. Everything in my bedroom is sage green! But I also like medium blue, like a Pantone dresden blue. Is that too specific?

3) What is your favorite movie?

That’s an easy one. Halloweentown, for sure.

4) Taken? Single?

Are you allowed to ask that? You are? Umm... next question, please.

5) What would be your perfect day?

Having my mama be home, since she’s always busy. She’d cook us all her Simyeon scallion pancakes for breakfast, and I’d play with my little brother, Rhys. If my papa’s not busy, we’d go down to the beach and play soccer for hours.

6) Are you a night owl or an early bird!

I’m an early bird. Usually, I’m the first to wake up in the morning.

7) Do you think you’re smart?

That’s a trick question, right? I guess I’m smart? I get better grades than my twin sister.

8) How do you like to be comforted when you’re sad?

I don’t like being alone when I’m sad. I want someone to distract me with macarons and mochi and make me laugh.

9) Where do you want to be in 5 years time?

In five years, I’ll be like 25 years old? And by then, I’ll have graduated university and started preparing to work as a full-time royal. I’d like to play soccer professionally but— uh, never mind. Where I want to be and where I’m going to be are different.

12) Do you have any regrets?

No, not yet! I hope I won’t have any.

13) Who are/is your best friends?

My twin sister, Lina, is my best friend. I feel like we understand each other better than other people do? But I’m also really close with my friends I met at boarding school. Ren, Arthur, Nora, and Penny! I love them.

14) What was your dream last night?

Last night, I dreamed I fell into a puddle and was transported into this alternate reality. The sky was purple and there were monsters everywhere! I usually have really wild dreams... though they’re mostly nightmares.

15) Who in your family are you closest to?

Lina, obviously! I’m also really close with my papa.

16) What is the one thing people don’t know about you?

I have asthma. I try to control it as much as possible— and always take my medication— so that when I’m playing soccer or working out I won’t have an asthma attack.

17) Best present ever given to you?

When I was 12 years old, I went through an embarrassing photography phase. Mama bought me a brand new DSLR for Winterfest! I think it’s a Rikon, or something. I’m starting to get back into taking pictures of special moments and the people I love.

18) What is your favorite food?

Anything my mama makes. But my favorite would have to be her homemade dumplings. And we always have it with this secret sauce she makes. It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted. I could cry thinking about it.

19) Earliest childhood memory?

I was like three years old, and I remember watching my papa look out the window. It was snowing. I think he hates the snow.

20) Do you have a crush?

I... do, but it’s none of your business.

21) If you could live in a different period, which one would it be?

I’d rather live in this time period. We have technology, cars, cellphones, and a modern understanding of hygiene. That’s good enough for me.

22) Any nicknames?

A lot of people call me Clem.

23) Introvert or Extrovert?

I love talking to people and making new friends, so that makes me an extrovert.

24) Favorite book?

Pachinko by Min Jin Lee. A close second is These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong.

25) Hobby?

Aside from soccer and anything athletic, I like photography, painting even though I’m really bad at it, reading, and journaling— you know, with the cute calligraphy pens and stuff.

26) Beach or pool?

Beach. There’s nothing better than laying out at the beach and feeling the sun on your skin.

27) First kiss?

Seriously?

28) Favorite subject

Anything science-related. History, too!

29) Age

I’m 19! I turn 20 years old next month.

30) Full name

Clementine Beauchamp.

31) Pets?

I don’t have any.

33) Favorite song?

I can’t choose! Right now, my favorite song is Step On Up by Ariana Grande.

34) Where do you live?

At my parents’ house?

35) What/who do you miss?

I miss my... close friend, Ren.

36) Which school(s) do/did you go to?

I’m a freshman at Foxbury Institute.

38) Tattoo?

Uh, no. Those hurt.

39) Done anything illegal?

Huh? Illegal? Nope.

40) Fav TV show?

Girl from Nowhere. I love it, even though it’s kind of dark?

41) Do you know any celebrities?

Mama knows celebrities and movie stars, so I’ve met a bunch of them and their kids at her parties. I guess that counts?

42) Dreams/wishes?

I want to be happy.

43) Are you very competitive?

Uh, yes.

45) Greatest accomplishment?

Getting a full-ride soccer scholarship to Foxbury Institute. I hope I’ll become captain of the women’s soccer team by junior year!

46) If you were stuck on a desert island, who would you be stuck with?

My papa. Since he was in the military for a long time, he knows how to survive in all kinds of places.

47) Zodiac sign

I’m an Aquarius sun, Taurus moon, and Aries rising!

48) Where were you born?

At a hospital in Newbury?

49) Sexuality?

I don’t know. Pan?

50) What color are your eyes?

Dark brown.

51) What color is your hair?

... Dark brown.

52) Do you want/ have kids?

I’d love to have children when I’m settled down and comfortable. Two, maybe. A boy and a girl.

53) When is your birthday?

January 21st!

54) Current mood?

I’m fine.

55) Do you send goodnight or good morning texts to people?

Yup! If I’m too busy to text my family and friends during the day, I like to at least message them in the morning or night.

57) How long do you sleep for?

8 hours. From around 10pm to 6am.

58) How long does it take you to get up in the morning?

As soon as I’m awake, I’m ready to go.

59) How long does it take you to get ready?

Including a shower, getting dressed, and all that stuff? I’d say like 20 minutes.

60) Meyer Briggs personality type?

ENFJ.

#thebrixtons #sim: clementine #character q&a #character building #this was actually really fun and challenging!#and i also got to have a cute little photoshoot w clem #it’s not her style but 🧎🏽‍♀️#anyways...#she’s so cute #i miss her : (#someone find her she’s lost in the handbag closet

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vcg73 · 3 years

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FIC: Kurt Birthday Drabbles

Earlier this week @elledelajoie left a comment on something I wrote all the way back in 2014. I had genuinely forgotten I ever started it, but the original idea was to write 21 Kurt Hummel birthday drabbles. I had written just 7 of them, but after we chatted about it, I decided to go ahead and finish.

If you’re not familiar, a drabble is a scene of exactly 100 words, not counting title headers. Since Chris Colfer and Kurt Hummel’s co-birthday (May 27) is coming up this Thursday, here they are. This goes definite AU at Birthday #19. Because you know I would never sentence my beloved Kurt to a life of being a doormat to people who did not appreciate and value him.

Never underestimate the power of feedback!

~*~*~*~*~

Birthday #1

Kurt’s blue eyes went wide as a frosted cupcake was set upon his high-chair tray, a single candle ablaze on its surface.

When Mommy, Daddy, Uncle Andy, Grandpa Curtis and Grandma Eileen started singing to him, he smiled and clapped both hands hard around the tempting pile of frosting.

Kurt laughed when the sugary topping went flying and a big splatter of white abruptly decorated Daddy’s surprised face.

Everyone else started laughed too, including the startled father, who retaliated by giving his birthday boy a sticky peck on the cheek and then helped him to blow out a new candle.

Birthday #2

Kurt looked between his presents, confused.

Mommy had given him the pretty dolly he had begged for at the store. Daddy had given him a truck, not big enough to ride but too big to live with the little cars Daddy gave him at Christmas.

His parents seemed to be mad at each other.

Kurt looked at the doll, then at the truck. He smiled and placed Dolly inside the truck and began to drive her around the carpet.

Mommy and Daddy seemed surprised by his actions, but then they laughed, and Kurt knew he had figured out the puzzle.

Birthday #3

His shoes were black and shiny, buckles on the sides and 1-inch heels on the base. He clomped over the hardwood floors, listening to the click-tap-click-tap in delight. They went perfectly with his dove gray coveralls with “Kurt” sewn on the pocket in black sequins. Mommy had made the outfit for him.

Spotting Daddy watching him, Kurt threw himself into waiting arms. Daddy’s smile looked like he had an owie but was trying to be a big boy and not cry.

Kurt hugged him. “It’s okay, Daddy.”

Burt looked surprised but hugged him back. “Yeah, buddy. I think it is.”

Birthday #4

Ballet girls were nice. When they heard it was his birthday today, they threw him a party. Kurt puffed up with pleasure when presented with cookies, a sparkly wand and a tiara that read ‘Happy Birthday’ in shiny letters. He was not as fond of the kisses they gave, but four was very grown up, so he screwed up his face and allowed it. The teacher even let him wear the special puffy pink tutu over his little black leotard!

He saw Mommy and Daddy up in the gallery taking pictures, so he waved.

Kurt hoped today would last forever.

Birthday #5

“Can I have cupcakes?”

Kurt’s mother looked up from her book. “I don’t think we have any, sweetheart.”

“Can we have some Thursday? My birthday is the last day of preschool.”

“It is?” she said, looking surprised. “Is it your birthday already?”

He nodded seriously. “Don’t you remember, Mommy? You were there.”

She laughed. “Well, you have me there. What kind of cupcakes would you like, sweetie? And don’t say cheesecake. Those are two completely different kinds of dessert.”

Kurt’s hopeful expression fell. “Oh,” he said, clearly disappointed. Then his face brightened again. “Chocolate?”

She nodded. “That we can do.”

Birthday #6

“Daddy!”

Burt sat up just in time to catch the little body that launched at him. “What’s wrong, slugger?”

“It’s my birthday!”

Grinning despite the way his heart was hammering at the abrupt awakening, Burt asked, “Yeah? I like birthdays. Do I get a present?”

“No,” the boy scoffed. “I get presents!”

Burt squinted at the clock. 3:15am. “Not until morning, you don’t.”

Kurt pouted and tried, “It’s almost morning.”

“Not close enough, kid. C’mere,” Burt pulled him into the warm bed between himself and his wife.

Kurt snuggled down and went right back to sleep.

Burt was less lucky.

Birthday #7

Kids had started treating him funny this year. He was too fancy, too girly, holding hands was weird.

Nobody was coming.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“Am I too late?”

They jumped as a little black girl with pom-pom hair popped out of nowhere.

“I’m Mercedes,” she greeted. “We just moved here. Mom said you would have invited me if you’d known.”

“I’m Kurt.” He smiled. “Do you like tea parties?”

“Is there cake?”

Mrs. Hummel beamed. “Cake, ice cream, and Kool-Aid.”

Kurt shrugged. “Nobody else came.”

She grabbed his hand like she’d known him forever. “More for us! Happy Birthday, Kurt.”

Birthday #8

Kurt took a deep breath, thought for a moment, and carefully blew out the candles. All but the extra one that his parents always put on his cake.

“Aren’t you gonna finish, bud?”

He looked from Daddy over to his mother, home again, but so frail he was sometimes afraid to hug her, worried she might pop like a fragile soap bubble. He offered her the candle. “Here, Mommy. Blow it out. Maybe you’ll get another year to grow on.”

The eyes of the two adults met, then Mommy nodded. The three of them blew out the final candle together.

Birthday #9

Barely daring to hope, Kurt came down the stairs. Birthday cakes and presents had been Mommy’s specialty. Daddy had forgotten his own birthday and had nearly forgotten Christmas.

Kurt gasped when he saw it, waiting, shining and spectacular against the front door.

“A bike!”

Bright green, sissy bars with foil streamers, and a banana seat. Perfect!

Burt smiled. He had scoffed a such a “girly” bike when Kurt spotted it at the toy store. But now, looking at the all-too-rare joy in his son’s eyes and feeling the approving smile his wife would have given, he nodded. It was perfect.

Birthday #10

Buying gifts was tough when your kid always clammed up on you. A dad had to be observant.

Ten years old. A landmark like that needed something special, but the only thing Kurt seemed into was clothes. He had enough of those for ten kids.

He’d probably like a Barbie he could change in and out of different outfits, but Burt cringed at the thought.

He did doodle pretty good though. Sure, it was mostly pictures of clothes, but that was a start.

A fancy sketchpad with a case and a hundred different colored pencils. Yeah, that was the ticket.

Birthday #11

“Dad, where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Kurt sighed with exaggerated impatience. He had come home from school to find Dad waiting at the truck, ordering him to get in, then not saying another word. The suspense was killing him.

“Ta-Dahhhh!”

They had pulled up in front of a nondescript brick building. “Columbus Culinary Arts?”

“You like to cook right? Well, we’re gonna fix your birthday dinner this year with the help of a real chef. Lessons are once a week for the next couple months.”

Gourmet cooking lessons!

“Oh wow. Dad, this is amazing!”

Burt grinned. “Happy Birthday, kid.”

Birthday #12

Last year’s surprise had gone so well that Burt had decided on a repeat. But when he saw the excitement on Kurt’s face at finding a pair of tickets inside his birthday card turn to disappointment and horror, quickly masked with a fake smile, he knew he’d goofed.

“I know baseball isn’t your thing,” he said, almost pleading. “But you’ve never seen a live game before. It’s a whole different experience. It’s a home game. We can yell and scream, and cheer our team on with thousands of other fans.”

The stiff not-smile never wavered. “Sounds . . . fun.”

Birthday #13

Dad had bought out one of the partners at the garage this spring and now owned a majority share of the renamed “Hummel Tires & Lube”. Kurt wanted to snicker at that name, but he was proud too.

His birthday this year coincided with Friday Night Dinner. Dad had invited all the mechanics over for a potluck. They’d had Mary’s special fried chicken, Cassius’s homemade cornbread, and Davy’s mac’n’cheese. Now Dad brought out the cake.

Kurt laughed. A sheet-cake with a tow-truck and two little plastic mechanics for decoration.

“You and me kid. Partners.”

The mechanics cheered and everybody dug in.

Birthday #14

Kurt froze when he saw tickets peeping out of his card. Not again. Noise, sunburn, unhealthy food, tacky uniforms, and Dad trying so hard to make a boring sport seem like fun.

He sighed and pasted on a smile, which quickly transformed into shock.

“Wicked?” he squeaked, staring hard at the little papers as if the printing might change if he dared to look away.

“Embassy Theater is giving regional business owners a discount this year,” Burt said apologetically. “It’s just a traveling production, not real Broadway, but I …”

His apology was cut off by a joyful teenaged hug.

Birthday #15

“Don’t worry, son, you got this. Just remember everything I taught you. You got a whole year to get ready for the practical test.”

“I know.”

“And it’s okay if you don’t get it right the first time. Not everybody does.”

“I’m fine, Dad.”

“I’ll be right here waiting for you when you’re through.”

“I know that, Dad. I’ll be okay, really.”

At that moment, Kurt’s name was called and he sprang from his hard green plastic chair. His dad’s repeated reassurances were making him jumpy.

Twenty minutes later, a brightly grinning Kurt was waving his freshly minted driver’s permit.

Birthday #16

Burt patted the giant blue bow the dealership had provided over the hood of the shining black Lincoln Navigator.

Kurt was gonna flip! He’d passed his DMV test with flying colors and was no doubt showing off his shiny new license to all his friends at school.

He paused. Did Kurt have any friends to share this accomplishment with? He always seemed so alone.

Maybe that’s why he had decided to spoil his son with a huge birthday gift.

It wasn’t right for such a good kid to be all alone. Maybe having his own ride would help change that.

Birthday #17

A dozen teens gathered in Kurt’s basement to celebrate the end-of-school, non-disbanding of Glee, and Kurt’s birthday, all in one.

“Not like ten years ago,” Mercedes said to Kurt, as they watched Mike and Brittany dance.

“Ten years?”

“Your seventh? It was just you, me, your mom, and lots of chocolate cake.”

Kurt was astounded. “That was you?”

“You forgot?”

“I remember a little girl who showed up and invited herself to my party.”

“And I remember a little boy who needed a friend as much as I did.”

He squeezed her hand. “Thanks for coming.”

She squeezed back. “Always.”

Birthday #18

Kurt stared at his birthday cake, unable to think of anything to wish for.

He was 18-years-old today, a legal adult. He had new family in Carole and Finn, his dad was on the mend, he would be back at McKinley for senior year, he had made his first visit to New York City, and he had a boyfriend! One who had just told Kurt that he loved him for the very first time.

‘I wish for next year to be as good as this,” he thought, taking a deep breath and blowing.

The flames flickered out, all except one.

Birthday #19

Senior year had been a disaster, and now he had not gotten into NYADA, despite his well-praised audition.

“Blaine wants me to spend another year here,” he whispered. “I just can’t.”

Burt’s callused hand squeezed his neck. “Then don’t. You’re 19 now, a man. You got talents galore, work experience from the garage, enough drive for ten kids, and your mom’s life insurance money to give you a start.”

“But…”

“No buts,” Burt said firmly. “You go on to New York and grab life by the balls.”

Kurt felt his optimism rise. “Help me look for apartments?”

“You got it.”

Birthday #20

What a difference a year made.

He’d dumped Blaine after being cheated on less than a month after leaving Lima. He was enrolled at FIT and sharing a shoebox apartment with a fellow design student and a Broadway hopeful, but both were young gay men from small towns, and they had a lot in common.

“Happy Birthday!” Elliott shouted, tossing a handful of glittery sequins at him.

Adam came in playing the birthday song on a kazoo he had gotten from who-knows-where. “Ready for Callbacks? $20 on who gets the first hot guy’s number!”

“I already have yours. I win!”

Birthday #21

“I have the honor of presenting your first official grown-up drink,” Adam said, smiling lovingly at his grinning boyfriend of nearly a year. He set down a martini glass with a cherry floating on top. “A Manhattan seemed appropriate.”

Kurt beamed and gave him a kiss, then took an experimental sip. “I’ve had alcohol before,” he admitted. “Mostly wine, though. Mm, this is good!”

“I thought you’d like it. Happy Birthday, my love. May the future bring every good thing you wish for, and never more heartache than you can handle.”

Kurt could not have asked for a better sentiment.

THE END

#birthday drabbles #Kurt and Burt #Kurt and Mercedes #Kurt and Adam

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friendandphoe · 3 years

Text

okay the formatting on this is gonna be a lil weird bUT!! have this figuring it out/something to last revamp that’s been sitting in my brain for the last few weeks @ahbonjour @museumlad @creativeskull95

There’s no way in hell she’s ever looking Professor Keelson in the eye again. “I’m sorry,” she croaks for the thousandth time, and finds a tissue being pressed into her hand.

“Quite alright, my dear,” Professor Keelson says soothingly, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded over his round belly. “Wipe your face, now, there you go. I’m — well.” And he rubs the bridge of his nose, just under his round wire glasses. “I can’t say I wasn’t expecting this, unfortunately.”

She nods numbly, ice trickling down her spine.

You ruined everything.

“I’m sorry,” she tries again, because it’s all she can think to say, but the professor waves her off with a weathered hand and pushes himself to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane as he makes his way to the mini fridge he keeps under the bookshelves.

“Now, now,” he says, almost scolding, and pulls out a clementine, a bar of chocolate, and a bottle of water. “Don’t you start that with me, Ms. Ochoa. This is not the first time I’ve had students crying in my office, I daresay it won’t be the last.” And he sits heavily back down in his chair, setting the snacks in front of her. “Eat, drink. Now, I won’t press on what’s been troubling you, but you know, these tired old eyes of mine do still catch a few things here and there, and I have seen you — well. I don’t like to use the word struggling, but you know, perhaps it is a bit more apt than anything else I could think of.” And she knows he’s looking at her, knows those beady black eyes well, but just focuses on unwrapping the chocolate bar as quietly as she can.

What makes you think we want you around?

“You’ve had a rough time of it, this year.”

It’s not a question, but she still finds herself nodding confirmation. “I don’t know what happened.” She says hoarsely, and reaches for the water bottle.

Leave us alone.

“I’ve been wanting this for years, I worked so hard to get into this program, I just—” and she has to press her mouth shut to keep the lump in her throat from escaping.

Leave us alone!

“Some… stuff. Uh, came up, I guess.”

They sit in silence for a minute, then softly: “The human mind is a wonderful, confusing little thing.” Professor Keelson says. She dares a glance up at him, finds him — thank god — staring out his office window. “It tends to block out anything unpleasant we might not want to hear, and often that negativity will build and build and build until, one day, the weight becomes too much to bear.” He sighs and scrubs a hand through his short white beard, messing the hairs out of their orderly style. “And then we must face the unfortunate truth that sometimes what we thought we wanted is, in actuality, not at all the path we should be taking."

She drops her gaze back down to her bouncing knee. “Is it stupid?” She blurts out, watching her leg blur under her rising tears. “I just — this is a good school, a good program, and I’ll have so many job opportunities when I graduate—”

A weathered hand stretches out across the desk, just reaching to where her pinky would've been. “And yet,” Professor Keelson murmurs. “It won’t make you happy.” He sits back in his chair, looking every inch the benevolent Santa Claus his students know him to be. “And given how miserable you’ve been this year, Ms. Ochoa, I daresay your ultimate happiness is worth far more than any graduating job offers.” His smile drops for a half-second. “Though I can’t say I won’t be sorry to see you go. You’re already one of my best students, you know.”

You're an embarrassment to my name and reputation.

A wet little giggle chokes out of her throat, and she wipes down her face one more time. “Don’t tempt me, I’m half-considering staying,” she admits. “Even with all of this.”

“Ah, but if you do, what sort of state will you be in once you graduate?” Professor Keelson says, raising a bushy brow. “All you young folk are the same. You’re young, you have that wonderful, limitless energy, but you must learn to take care of yourselves now, while you have the space to do so. Won’t do you any good to drive yourselves into the ground every night when you’re my age, you know!” He looks at her appraisingly, then smiles wide. “And you know, my dear, there’s great strength in being able to admit you were wrong. I’ve always admired people who are strong enough to chase their dreams instead of following the easy path. Do you have an idea where you’re going, yet?”

Don’t ever come back here, you little—

“There’s a performing and visual arts conservatory,” she says hesitantly. “River Park, downstate. They’ve got really good photography and filmmaking programs, and, um.” She pauses, unsure how to explain how right it had all felt when she’d been reading about it online. “Well, I have an interview on Wednesday, so.”

Professor Keelson’s smile widens. “River Park! My partner studied illustration there, years ago when we were both young. You’ll do wonderfully.”

She can’t help but feel like his faith is ever-so-slightly misplaced —

I didn't want you.

— maybe it’s just the existential crisis talking, who knows —

Do you understand me?

— but she can’t quite bring herself to argue against the sparkling excitement in the professor’s eyes. She lets him press another chocolate bar and tissue combo into her hand as he shuffles her out of his office, with strict, cheerful instructions to come see him before she leaves for her interview.

You were a mistake.

Tuesday night comes in the blink of an eye; she’d barely dumped her meager wardrobe back into the suitcase she’d kept under her bed and her sticky notes are still haphazardly slapped to the wall above her desk. She’s not exactly sure where the time went — it’s not like she went to any classes. Or ate much. Or was sleeping, really. Granted she did try, but the third time in the same night she woke up sobbing because her blankets had twisted around her leg, trapping her in an all-too-familiar heat vortex—

window won't break it's too hot it hurts to breathe window won't break it's so fucking hot she can't think window won't break but it'll slide get out of this goddamn heat get out get out crunch fuck ow hurts hurts ow fuck hurts her toes shouldn't be ow fuck fuck fuck pointing that way hurts hurts fucking hurts can't feel her knee fuck fuck where's papá—

— she kind of gave up. She doesn't even bother pulling out her shitty, half-broken headphones to try and watch something on Netflix to try and pass the time, she just lays in bed and listens to Rebecca softly snoring five feet away. The ceiling is infinitely more interesting than anything else she could’ve been focusing on, anyway.

Except maybe her portfolio. Which. She hasn’t really. Looked at.

She’s so fucked.

Still, she drags herself out of bed nice and early at 7 am Wednesday morning, beating her alarm by the customary 4 minutes, and actually manages to gather the energy to sift through her remaining clothes to dig out something — well. She doesn’t really have anything “nice,” per say, but she does have an oversized sweater that’ll pass as a dress once she puts on some makeup and a belt and ties her hair up, and that’ll have to be good enough.

You show up to my door looking like that?

River Park is going to laugh her right out the door.

Everything she might need is already shoved unceremoniously into her backpack — wallet, keys, wrist brace, student ID, laptop, flash drive (in its place of honor in the tiny pocket), knee brace, fruit snacks, water bottle — but her eye catches on her DLSR just as she’s finished tying the laces on her most comfortable boot, and she hesitates. She hasn’t really looked at her portfolio much recently — she knows she’s got some old pictures from Manhattan, and maybe some from various campus events that might be good, but it’s been a little hard to go out and take nice shots when she’s been drowning in depression soup for the past four months. Four years. Whatever. Either way, she doesn’t have much to show for herself, and inspiration hasn’t really hit lately.

But River Park is — well, she has no idea, really, she hasn’t seen it in person yet, but the photos online are gorgeous, all glass-and-brick buildings framed by forests and gardens. Very much a college town, from what she can tell, the campus map isn’t really a map so much as a general directory pointing out which buildings were associated with the conservatory, but there was something that felt weirdly homey about seeing those pictures. Maybe it was the layout of the buildings, maybe it was the way they described their classes and professors, maybe it was just the simple fact that everyone in those pictures was genuinely smiling, but she’d gotten this weird, longing ache just below her collarbone that had made her close down all her other college-related tabs and email River Park’s photography and filmmaking department.

Something feels good about that campus. And maybe, if she gets there a little early, she can—

You don't get to come into my life and — and ruin everything I have here.

It’s only seven forty-two. Her interview’s not until one, and the train ride downstate should only take an hour. She’s got time.

Which is how she finds herself knocking on Professor Keelson’s office door, DLSR hanging around her neck, about two hours earlier than she’d been intending to be there, praying to who and whatever might be listening that he’s actually in and she didn’t just horribly fuck this up like she’s been fucking up, oh, who’s to say, just about everything she touches these past few months.

You’re not a part of this family. You never will be.

“Come in, come in!” She hears just beyond the door, and she cautiously peeks in to find the wizened old professor crouching over his printer, staring at it suspiciously as it slowly spits out some document. “Hello, dear. Wasn’t expecting you this early!”

I think you should leave.

“Sorry,” she manages, hovering in the doorway. “I just — change of plans.”

Professor Keelson nods, collects his papers, and creaks over to his desk. “Yes, very good.” he agrees, shuffling the papers into two piles. “Take a seat, I promise I won’t keep you very long. You look nice, by the way.”

She sits, already relaxing in the warm familiarity of Professor Keelson’s overstuffed office. Maybe this is why he’d wanted her to visit before she went, just to make sure she wouldn’t vomit on the interviewers. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re very welcome. Now,” he says, stuffing one pile of papers into a folder. “These are all your important documents: transcripts, transferable credits, disability accommodations, et cetera. Pardon my overstepping, but you did seem a little, ah, frazzled, shall we say? Last you came to speak with me and I was almost positive that you wouldn’t have thought of pulling the paperwork together.”

Which is absolutely true, she hadn’t, and she can’t even bring herself to feel insulted that he’d assumed she wouldn’t. “Thank you very much,” she says, trying desperately to seem calm and cool and collected and not crush her very expensive, very precious camera in her white-knuckle grip.

A mess. You're a mess.

Professor Keelson’s face crinkles into a smile. “You’re very welcome. You’ll be happy to know that, since you’ve already completed all your core classes and general requirements, all of those credits will easily transfer between the schools. There may be a class or two you’ll have to make up, but you should be able to jump right in with your major-specific classes. Now, this,” he says, folding the other papers into an envelope. “Is your letter of recommendation. I’ll put it in the folder with everything else, but I wanted you to know that you had it.”

Oh, fuck, she might start crying again. “Professor—” she starts, but he’s already slid the folder across the desk to her.

“Ms. Ochoa, if I may.” Her mouth snaps shut, and he continues: “Our time together has been short, yes, but you have been one of my favorite students to ever come through these doors. Barring your obvious intelligence, passion, and work ethic, you’re also relentlessly kind, despite everything you’ve gone through.” His gaze fixes on her cheek for the briefest of moments, tracing over the lumps and bumps of her scars, but his eyes are as soft as they’ve ever been. “I don’t presume to know your history, but I know bits of your present, and the person I’ve seen would make a valuable asset to any school she goes to. If you approach your new classes and projects with as much determination as you did mine, I’ve no doubt your new instructors will be as proud of you as I am. I let them know as much.”

...

She numbly takes the folder, desperately blinking back tears. “Th-thank you, sir.” She manages, thick in the back of her throat. “I-I’ll do my best.”

Professor Keelson takes up his customary position, hands laced neatly over his belly. “You will.” He agrees, smiling. “Now, you should be heading out soon. I’d hate to make you miss your train, especially if you want to get there early.”

“Yes — yes.” And she gets up on autopilot, sliding the folder into her backpack as carefully as she can manage. “Thank you. Thank you so much, professor, I can’t — I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

She’s halfway out the door when she hears him call: “Ms. Ochoa, one more thing?”

She turns.

The professor smiles benevolently at her from his chair. “Don’t give up on yourself before you’ve even gotten started.”

And with that, she’s on her way.

Get out.

So, update: maybe deciding to take her portfolio pictures on her way to her college interview was a stupid idea, but to be fair, a lot of her stupid ideas have worked out pretty decently before, so. It’s fine.

Probably.

She definitely doesn’t almost miss the train by snapping shots of the mostly-empty station, but in her defense, the morning fog hadn't quite dissipated yet, and the spooky air of possibility that the tracks had been extending and disappearing into was just begging to be captured. And she absolutely doesn’t continually hop seats throughout the hour-long ride to get different angles of the seats, the blurry towns and roads whizzing past, or even a couple of self-portraits here and there. It’s not like there are people around for her to bother, anyway, so it’s fine. (Probably.) It’s a little hard getting a satisfyingly dramatic shot of her staring out the window, but she thinks the one where they’re passing through a tunnel and she’s locked eyes with her shadowy reflection might be a winner. She won’t really know until she opens them up on her computer, which will probably end up being just before the interview, with her luck, so. Who knows, she might just be wasting her time and battery life.

It’s the most fun she’s had in a while, though.

And. Fuck, maybe it makes no sense, but she's still got that feeling in her chest. It's creeping up to her ponytail, at this point, tugging on the ends of her curls, ordering her to pay attention.

Capture this.

It's important.

Last time she felt like that, she won an award, so. Y'know. Fuck her if she's going to ignore it.

She cuts herself off when there’s ten minutes left in the journey, just to be sure she’s not scrambling to put herself together as she’s pulling up to the station, but ten minutes, it turns out, is both much longer and much shorter than she thought it’d be. Just enough time to run down the list of all the possible ways this could (and would) go wrong, but not enough to steady her racing heart before the train’s slowing down.

You're delusional. This isn't one of your little fairy tales. This is — it's not going to happen.

Don’t give up on yourself before you’ve even gotten started, she remembers, taking one last breath to steel herself, and swings herself up onto her feet and out the doors.

The station is nice enough, but not terribly different from the one she’d started in besides being a little cleaner, so she shoulders her backpack and makes her way down the stairs and into the town proper.

Which.

Wow.

Maybe it’s just a seasonal thing, maybe not, but all the buildings she can see are draped with hanging lights, and even the curving street lights have extra strands hanging over the sidewalks. She almost wishes she’d scheduled her interview later in the day, just to be able to get a shot of those lights against the dark sky, but contents herself with snapping pictures of the incredibly aesthetic sidewalk and shops. She spots an art supply store with a cheerful blue door sandwiched between a movie theater and an apartment complex that frames up nicely, and there’s a coffee shop with swirling, festive winter-y designs painted on the window with pots of poinsettias framing the corners that’s a — no pun intended — picture-perfect paragon of coziness. She stops maybe a little too long to zoom in on the red leaves and flawless paint, making sure to keep the actual inside of the shop out of focus, because as cute as the beanbags and mismatched armchairs are, she doesn’t really feel like going in to ask if it’s alright for her to take pictures of the small handful of people both in front of and behind the counter.

One last shot of the poinsettias and she moves on, turning her lens to the last few, dying flowers in their garden beds, then to the display window of a bookstore that proudly announces its support of the LGBT community with various painted flags, then to the churning river that cuts through the town and the elegant bridge that arcs proudly above it.

There’s not a lot of people walking around right now, but she can definitely see kids around her age up the street, chatting and laughing amongst themselves as their breath puffs out in front of them. A cute dog bounces over to say hello before its owner tugs it away with a sheepish smile, and even without their leaves, the trees interspersed along the sidewalk stand tall, proud, and lovely.

She’s got that weird ache in her chest again — stronger this time — that indiscernible pull that draws her to stay, and she puts her camera down, puffing out a shaky breath.

What made you think we want you here?

“It doesn’t matter.” She tells herself sternly, leaning up on the sides of the bridge. “It doesn’t matter unless you get in.”

Speaking of. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, fully intending to double check the email she’d been sent with instructions on where to go, but her eye catches on the time.

Twelve forty-six.

So. Maybe not the best idea to go gallivanting around a campus she doesn’t know, especially when she has an extremely important interview to get to, but even as she’s scolding herself, she knows the pink flush in her cheeks isn’t just from the cold, and she’s got more energy now than she’s had in months, so.

Worth it.

Thank god E.A. Archer Hall is straightforward enough to find; Google Maps tells her it’s a seven minute walk in a mostly straight line from where she is on the bridge now, which she just about manages even though it’s cold and her stump is starting to ache. The building is emblazoned with the name right on the side, so it’s impossible to miss, but she needs a keycard to get in, and somehow she thinks her current school ID isn’t exactly going to fly here.

But someone, somewhere, is smiling on her, because she’s only just gotten to oh, shit before a tall woman with vitiligo and long box braids strides towards the door, pushing it open.

“Alejandra Ochoa?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she says as smoothly as she can behind her chattering teeth, and the woman smiles.

“You're right on time. Come on in, let's get started."

#I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS ABOUT HOW DIFFERENT FIO/STL WOULD GO NOW SO IM REWRITING IT #i dont wanna spoil things bc i am in fact working on the next bits but here are some minor thoughts:#1: alexa starts out as an architecture major then switches schools to go into photography/filmmaking spring semester 2nd year #((not to toot my own horn but the way her major reflects her emotional arc is actually very clever of me if i do say so myself))#2: alexa and jaimey are half siblings through their dad and there will in fact be more Jaimey/Juno development than ive ever done before #((i have a lot of thoughts about their relationship and how it would grow and develop over time so. lowkey Jaimey redemption arc))#3: alexa obviously nails this interview and she hangs out on campus for a lil while afterwards to take pictures #((3.5: she does end up going into the coffee shop and there is in fact a Very Cute Barista and she gets Nervous))#4: the little interjections are things that have been said to Alexa somewhat recently but not all by the same person #thats about it i think anything else would be spoiler-y #n e way i cant wait to loredump all my new thoughts on yall im so sorry in advance for all the notifications you're about to get #im workin on some AU stuff too but lately ive been wanting to write about Normal Kids doing Normal Kid Things so here we are #i hope you enjoyed #movie house #alejandra ochoa #alexa darmond #my writing #shut up phoenix

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blueunoia · 3 years

Text

❤ ──── ·․ under watchful eyes (pt. 4)

━━━ SYNOPSIS: the russell family face tragedy.

━━━ WARNINGS: suicide, crying, allusion to sexual assault

━━━ NOTES: Sorry for the long wait, school has been stressing me. Please heed the warning, I allude or mentioned the suicide a few times so if your sensitive to that, becareful.

━━━ WORD COUNT: 2,170

✦·․ ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․ ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․ ❤ ․·✦·․·✦·․· ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․ ──── ❤ ──── ․·✦

It was raining in Coal Creek. Not just on the land, but on a family in the small town. The Russell family had never felt such a fitting tone. Together they all surrounded a grave. It was just them, no preacher, no friends - just the now one size smaller family.

Y/N clutches Arvin's arm tightly, letting a few tears slip as she felt his arm flex under his grip. One look at him and anyone, whether or not they knew the stern boy, could tell that he was trying not to fall apart. Trying to be a man like he was raised to be. His grandmother kept a firm grasp on the tissues in her hand. The girls were dressed in black dresses and the boys in their usual shirts and slack pants.

"Lord... there are just some things we can't understand," the grandmother said weakly. "You take her into your arms..."

"There ain't even somebody sayin' prayers."

Arvin looks over at you and then to the ground, sniffling. Turning your head to face him, you nuzzle your nose into his cheek in the hope to console him. Arvin was never the 'talk about my feelings' type.

Arvin unwraps his entangled arm from yours, taking a few steps forward and grabbing his grandma. After saying a few more words, you all left, walking back without Lenora's soft voice that had been lost from your lives for just a few days. It felt like you were waiting for it. To hear her again, to feel her presence, but then nothing came. During the car ride that felt like an eternity, you couldn't help but wonder.

How did this happen?

Two weeks earlier.

"Is Lenora feeling any better?" you ask Arvin as the two of you eat lunch in the cafeteria. Lenora hadn't come into school for the second time this month. At first, you and Arvin just figured she had a twenty-four-hour bug, then the flu, but then it went away, and now it's come back. No one else in the Russell family had gotten sick - so all you are now is confused.

"No," Arvin says somberly. He shakes his head and pushes the food around on his plate, "I don't know what's wrong with 'er. She's been in bed off and on all week."

You put your hand on his back, not even realizing it, and rub it softly. You sigh, "Maybe Lenora should go to the doctor again?" Arvin shrugs. A fight across the room catches the two of your attention, but the teachers soon swarm the fighters. Turning back to him, you smile wide "My momma said she'd take me to look at dresses this week."

Arvin perks up immediately. "Really?" he asks happily. He smiles, one of his rare ones, and the look in his eyes makes your heart swell.

You laugh, "Yes," you tell him. "We're going to go to Parkersburg. There's a little shop that my mom got 'er holiday dress from; I always thought it was gorgeous."

Arvin grabs your hand, "Hopefully, Lenora feels better by then. She misses you."

"How 'bout I come over later? I could do her makeup and just cheer 'er up."

"I can drive you over before I 'gotta go to work," Arvin suggests, "I don't mind." You nod to Arvin, and then the lunch bell rings, quickly you turn to him and press your lips to his cheek. He starts to get red as he laughs a little as you dart away from him.

Arvin drives you to his house after school. You called your mom before, and she was, surprisingly, okay with it. So you went inside the home. Lenora lit up when she saw you. She hadn't seen anyone for a while because of sickness, and she was thrilled to ask you questions about the wedding.

"Do you guys' know when your gonna have it?" she asked, probably her twentieth question.

"No, not yet," you let out a little laugh. "We haven't planned it much. I mean, we don't have any money so we can't do much. Plus, you know Arvin, he's more a simple kind of guy. I thought we'd have the reception at the church, invite my family from out of town. Then we'd go up to that old hall they have just out of town, the one they have the school dances at - and we'd have the reception there."

Lenora nods, making you pull her hair as you braid it. "That sounds nice," she sounds like she's dreaming. "I can't wait to be married. I can't wait to be in love... I thought I was," she mumbles the last part.

You perk up, turning your head, you lean down, "Lenora Irene Lafayette! Did you just say you thought you were in love with a boy?"

She laughs nervously, "No! I-I just meant... it was just a crush! Just a crush, that's all!"

"Well," you smile at her, turning her to face you, "Who was it?"

She shakes her head. "It's no one you'd know..."

"There's only, like, two hundred people here, Lenora. Chances are known 'im."

"It was just a boy from school, but... he turned out to be wrong. I don't think he's as nice as I thought he was," her voice is quiet. Almost as if she's scared to say it. You frown and caress her cheek.

"Well, he's an idiot. Anyone that can't see how wonderful you are, Lenora, you just brush 'em off. Because they obviously can't be good."

Lenora nods. "Can we keep this between us two? I don't want Arvin to find out," she pleads.

"Course," you cut her off with a laugh, "All I need is he getting arrested for beating some boy up, again, my momma just got alright with him after that night."

You went dress shopping a week later. One week before Lenora died. She had just started feeling better. Physically, and it seemed in spirits. You hadn't told Arvin about what Lenora told you. Your mother drove you out to Parkersburg with Lenora in tow. She was the only bridesmaid - maid of honor, specifically - near so, it was just the two of you.

The shop was small, but it fit enough dresses that you knew you'd be here for a while. Lenora pulled dresses off the rack along with your mother. Almost all the ones they pulled were conservative, with little accessories, and bland. There was one that seemed to call to you.

It was long, with a see-through train and short, slightly puffy sleeves. Lace was all over it. It reminded you of something a princess would wear in a Disney movie. "Now we can't afford that," you heard your mother call. "It almost two hundred dollars! Probably all that lace..."

You turn to see your mom with a hopeful smile, "Arvin gave me some extra money. Fifty. Wouldn't that put us just a little over what we need for it?"

Your mom pursed her lips. "Well, yes, but you should try on some other options first. Maybe you'll find something less expensive and have more money for the wedding."

You nod and take some of the dresses into the dressing room. "Hey, Lenora?" you call out.

"Yes?" you hear almost immediately.

"I thought you could try on some bridesmaid dresses. Do wanna go get some? We can use the same room," you suggest. She quickly says yes, and you hear her wander off. Soon enough, her footsteps come back, and a soft knock hits the dressing room door.

You open it letting her in. "I like that purple one."

Something is off while Lenora tries on the other dress. She keeps staring at herself in the mirror, and as you look over, you see her palming her stomach. You walk over to her and place a hand on her shoulder, "Something wrong?"

Lenora shakes her head. "I think I've gained weight... I'm usually a three, but all the dresses feel tighter now. 'Round my stomach, 'specially."

You shake your head, "You look fine, Nora. It's probably nothing. Your grandma kept force-feeding you soup when you were, sick remember," you joke, and she smiles, "it's probably from that. It'll go away."

Lenora nods and tries on the purple dress, both of you agreeing it looks the best. She sits as you come to the last dress. None of them interesting you enough to leave.

"Can I ask you a question?" Lenora asks.

"'Course."

She shuffles her feet, "Do you think... do you... Have you and Arvin talked about having a baby? I just, I mean, when people get, married they usually have babies."

You shake your head, "We spoke about it but, we don't got enough money for that. Plus, my momma and daddy might be letting us get married, but that doesn't mean they're happy. My daddy would probably shoot Arvin, I showed up pregnant, and I think momma would die of embarrassment. You know how my parents are," you ramble.

You never noticed how Lenora kept nodding her head, not until after. Or how her face slowly drained of the small smile and became anxious. Or how she kept fidgeting.

Present Time

You can't help but think of those things after; the thought stays in your mind. You replay the picture of how Lenora acted, the words spoken, every little glance, and inflection until you've thought of everything.

Could you have done more?

No matter how much you overthink it, you still can't understand. You can't find a reason. Why would Lenora take her own life?

You went home with Arvin that night. Your parents understood; Arvin needed you. He didn't make any attempt to hid the fact you'd be sleeping in the same bed. So there you sat, thinking of the past, in your nightgown while you waited for him. You turn your ring around your finger as you wait. The floorboards creek and you hear Arvin come before he even steps into the room.

"Grams is sleepin'," he says tiredly. He walks over and practically falls onto the bed, his head lying on your stomach as he wraps his arms around you. You brush his messy hair out of his face.

"Are you okay?" you ask quietly. Arvin nods. His body is stiff, and the look on his face is the definition of exhaustion. You frown and move one of your hands to his back, rubbing it softly while the others hold onto his neck. "It's okay if you're not okay, you know that, right?"

Arvin shrugs before burying his face into your stomach. You keep rubbing his back and mumble some comforting words to him. "I just..." his voice quivers, "I can't believe she's gone. I don't understand this. Why?" his voice cracks into a sob. You hold him tighter, but he pulls away, wiping away his tears and going to leave. You quickly get up and grab his arm. As he looks back at you, he falls apart again, "Why her? She was so good! Why did this happen?"

You grab his face, "I don't know, Arvin, but... I know I'm here for you. I know I want to be here for you. So let me, please. Don't run away. I want you to stay; I want you to let me hold you. Let me do that."

He shakes his head softly but lets you pull him into a hug nonetheless. His arms wrap around your waist as he sobs into your shoulder, and you stumble back onto the bed. Arvin lies his head on your chest, and you hold him the entire night, and even though it was one of the hardest nights you face together, it was somehow also the most peaceful. The sound of your heartbeat, your arms wrapped around him, and the two of you sharing warmth. And as he falls asleep after crying all his tears out, he can't help but look up at his future wife and mumble three words as his eyes close for the night.

"I love you."

The next day Arvin woke up, still in your arms, and had to get up for work. You asked him not to go, but he knew he had to. He had to get money somehow. It depended on what he'd be doing on if it'd be hard labor. Sometimes it was just moving stuff, building, and other times it was lifting up heavy shit.

He left at six and wouldn't get off until twelve, and as he did, he found a sheriff waiting. Holding an envelope with an announcement that Arvin couldn't ignore and as he stormed back into the house, immediately looking for you and let you know what it said. You and Arvin knew something had to be done. Something had to be said: and so you told him the truth of what the preacher did. And that sealed the fate of three people in Coal Creek.

The preacher, Arvin, and you.

Once again, sorry for the wait. I hope you enjoyed part four! Though it was a little depressing. I’m hoping to wrap this up in the next part or maybe two more. I’ll try to stop from taking a month to get the next one out.

Don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment!

━━━ MASTERLIST

#tdatt #The Devil All The Time #arvin russell #arvin russell imagine #tw: crying #tw: suicide #comfort #arvin russell x reader #1960s

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Riding On

Ch 19- Everyone Loves A B-J…

Summary: It’s Frank’s birthday and the Adler-Gallagher clan enjoy a family based weekend that brings Frank several surprises along the way, whilst both him and Fliss get a gift that money simply can’t buy.

Warnings: Bad Language words, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: LONG update here guys, and sorry, I really couldn’t resist the Trump bashing again. For what it’s worth, I cannot WAIT to write Frank’s reaction to that election when I finally get there. All together know “F**k Donal Trump!”

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 18

Well, you done done me, and you bet I felt it, I tried to be chill, but you're so hot that I melted. I fell right through the cracks, now I'm trying to get back.

Given that Alex's stay at his grandparents was a success, Fliss felt much happier about her planned surprise few nights away for Frank. She had already booked most of it in early January, having roped her parents, Mary and even Frank's colleagues into her plotting to ensure that the days she had selected- Thursday to Sunday over the second weekend in March- were booked as leave and factored into the rota at the shop without him knowing. Mary, being her usual googling genius self, helped Fliss to find the perfect place to stay in the area she had selected along with a number of activities and she’d booked the whole thing on her credit card so that Frank wouldn't see anything suspicious showing up on their bank statements. That said, despite all her secrecy, Frank could tell she was up to something. He knew her too well not to spot it. And being the impatient little shit he was, he tried everything he could to coax it out of her to no avail. She wasn't for cracking, and neither was Mary. All he kept getting told from both his girls was "wait for your birthday" which was driving him insane. He even tried to catch Fliss out mid sex one evening. He lay over her, languidly dragging his cock in and out of her at a torturously slow pace, promising her he'd let her come if she told him what she was up to. She'd simply panted out that he was an asshole and then looked up at him with those eyes, wide and bright, shining with love and as usual he'd caved. He never could resist when she looked at him like that and a few minutes later she was crying his name whilst Frank was still none the wiser as to what was actually going on. The morning of his birthday rolled around much the same as any other Saturday morning, except Mary had opted to stay home the night before instead of going to Roberta’s as they were going out for breakfast. The morning sun was warm on Frank's face as it spliced through a crack in the curtains, but that wasn't what had woken him. It was Fliss, kissing and nuzzling all around his shoulders and the back of his neck as she snuggled into him from behind, her hand snaking around his waist and dipping into his boxers.

He gave a croaky little groan as her hand wrapped around his semi-hard cock, lightly stroking him as she continued gently kissing his neck, the heat from her body radiating into his as she pressed her chest to his bare back. Frank turned his head so he was looking over his shoulder and she met him with a cheeky smirk which turned into a slow, gentle kiss, perfect for the lazy, slow strokes she was giving him.

"Happy birthday baby." She whispered, nudging his nose with hers.

“You can say that again.” He choked as her grip tightened around him.

“Happy birthday baby.” She chuckled and Frank rolled his eyes giving a huff of laughter but before he could reply Fliss had gently pushed on his shoulder, coaxing him over onto his back. She moved so she was hovering over him, kissed him again before her mouth made its way down his chest, nose and lips tracing a path down his happy trail and across his Adonis belt. With a soft moan of her name, Frank’s hand tangled in those soft, morning-tousled waves of bright, auburn hair he adored as she glanced up at him with her deep, brown eyes, the polka-dot bed covers peaked around her head. She gave another cheeky grin as her hands reached for the side of his boxers and he shifted his hips to allow her to pull them down. Her eyes locked on his she wrapped her hand round the base of his cock and gave a few further flicks of her wrist, causing him to sigh before she adjusted herself, pulled her hair over one shoulder and took him in her mouth. Frank moaned, totally blissing out as Fliss licked and sucked her way around his dick, the hand that wasn't in her hair fisted around the bed sheets as he felt his pleasure mounting the more she worked him. His hips bucked slight as she took him all the way to the back of her throat, a motion she repeated for 3 or 4 times until he was gone. With a hiss and a croak of her name Frank spilled himself down her throat, his fingers tightening around her hair as he sighed, laying back, eyes closed, chest heaving.

With a smirk Fliss pulled his boxers back up and crawled the length of his body, laying on top of him, her chest pressed to his. He smiled, his eyes still not opening as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close for a second, basking in what a fucking amazing wake-up call that had been, until the baby monitor on the nightstand suddenly emitted a loud gurgled screech signalling Alex was awake and sure enough, as they both turned to look at the screen they could see him attempting to roll over in his crib.

“It was a lot easier when he was right here.” Fliss pouted, her chin on Frank’s chest as she peeked up at him and Frank gave her a stern look.

“We’re not having that argument again, Liss.” He shook his head, “He’s 6 months old now. He can sleep in his own room.”

“I know, I know…” She sighed, pushing herself up away from Frank and climbing off the bed. He watched her go laying back on the pillow, giving a roll of his eyes at the ceiling. That had been one hell of heated discussion earlier in the week when he’d suggested it was time Alex moved into the nursery at night instead of just taking his daytime naps in there. Fliss had protested, shown him all this stuff on the internet about how it was better for kids to be in their parents rooms until they were 12 months old, which Frank and countered with articles to the contrary he had found and stated Mary had never slept in his room from the moment he’d had her. She’d gotten upset, teary, but he wasn’t caving in. He’d hated being so damned forceful with her but the fact was as much as he loved the kids he selfishly and unashamedly wanted his private space back, a space where they got to be alone with one another to allow them to be Fliss and Frank, not mom and dad. Plus he also knew the longer Alex stayed in their room the harder it was going to be to get him to settle in his own space. Eventually, after Fliss had realised this was one thing she wasn’t getting her own way with she’d given in, and spent most of the night tossing and turning, sniffing a little, and when he’d tried to cuddle her she’d told him to piss off. Frank had merely taken a deep breath and backed away, knowing full well that when she got up in the morning and saw that Alex was fine, she’d feel like an ass. And he’d been right. She’d been up at the crack of dawn, straight into the nursery and come back a few minutes later, sidling up to him and hugging him from behind whispering that she was sorry, and the entire thing had been forgotten.

A thud on the bed jolted Frank from his thoughts and he looked down to see Thor had hopped up on the foot of the bed and he flopped down, his head on the peak that Frank’s feet were making.

“Oh, it’s like that is it buddy?” he asked and the dog merely looked at him before giving a contented sigh, his tail thumping on the bed. Then his head perked up as the door to their room pushed open again and his tail grew even more frantic as Fliss entered with Alex in her arms. She placed him down on the duvet and climbed into bed again, both watching as their baby promptly rolled from his back onto his tummy, his head raising to look at Frank as he gave a loud gurgle, grinning up at his daddy.

Frank gave a huff of laughter as he sat up against the headboard and hooked his hands under Alex’s arm pits, standing him up on his thighs. Gently he moved his hand so the baby could grab onto his fingers and Alex stood, looking around the room as Frank helped him stay in place.

“Mum thinks he’ll be crawling soon.” Fliss smiled as she lay back, watching the two of them “I mean he’s already sitting up and bum shuffling on the floor so…”

“God help us…or more to the point God help Thor!” Frank snorted as Alex gave a loud shriek as he spotted the dog led on the bed. Thor once more thumped his tail but made no effort to move. At that point, Alex’s legs gave a little wobble and he plopped down onto the soft duvet, sitting up and grabbing at the pattern on the cover before he looked up, grinning once more at Frank.

“He’s always so happy.” Fliss beamed at the baby who waggled his arms excitedly as Frank once more helped him stand up.

“He does nothing but sleep, eat, drink and mess in his diaper.” Frank shrugged “What’s there to be miserable about?!” Fliss snorted as Frank cocked his head and studied his son. “His hair is definitely going darker.” He mused.

“I know.” Fliss smiled “I’m glad his eyes aren’t though.”

“Glad?” Frank turned to her. “How come?”

“Because they’re just like yours.”

Frank smiled as Fliss leaned over and kissed him softly. They spent a little more time in bed, watching Alex’s various attempts to shuffle over the top of the bed towards the german shepherd at the bottom, before they heard Mary’s door open. She headed into the bathroom first before she knocked on their door and when Frank told her to come in she dive bombed on the bed singing Happy Birthday and demanding that he get up to open his gifts.

It was only since being with Fliss that Frank had really had Birthday or Christmas presents to open since he had left Boston. Granted, Roberta had normally gotten him a little something from her and also Mary but now it was different. And not that he was materialistic but he loved the fact he felt a little spoilt. He sat on the couch and unwrapped each one in turn to reveal a couple of new shirts, a pair of sneakers and a framed photo of the four of them which had been taken by Bill at the last Competition Mary had been in. She was sat on Monty in her full show gear, rosette attached to the pony's bridle as Alex perched in front of her, held safely in place by Fliss's hands. Frank stood at the other side of the pony, his arm round Mary all of them beaming at the camera. "Thanks guys, I love it all." Frank looked up smiling, before he paused as Fliss handed him an envelope "More?"

She nodded from where she sat on the floor with Alex who was stood on shaky legs, hanging on to her fingers just as he’d done with his dad earlier. Frank looked at her suspiciously before he slipped his finger under the flap and tore it open. He pulled out the piece of paper, which was a flight itinerary and his eyes widened as he looked at the destination. "We're going to Vermont?" He looked at Fliss and she grinned, giving a nod. "3 nights, next Thursday to Sunday, just the 2 of us" She informed him as Frank quickly scanned the details, his eyes flicking back to hers as he registered the fact they were going to be alone "Nice little cabin in the Moscow area of Stowe and I booked us a few things to do..." "Please tell me one of those things is the Ben and Jerry's tour!" Frank groaned as and Fliss gave a chuckle.

“Well you know what they say…” she looked at Frank whose eyes flicked back to the printed itinerary before they raised once more to hers, questioningly. She grinned and licked her lips “Everyone loves a BJ.”

Frank gave a snort, followed by a little sigh of delight looking back at the piece of paper in his hand, his eyes shining with happiness as he took it all in. “Lissy, this is amazing." He beamed "Thank you." "Wait..." Mary suddenly piped up "You're going to Ben and Jerry's?" "Yeah." Fliss nodded.

"So not fair." She rolled her eyes "I wanna go."

“Tough.” Frank shot back “It’s my birthday not yours.”

“Well can we go for my birthday?” Mary asked.

“No.”

“That’s so mean Frank.” She whined.

“Go call someone who cares.” He looked at her. She narrowed her eyes and then held her hand out.

“Give me your phone then.” She demanded and Fliss laughed.

“Yeah? And who you gonna call?” Frank eyed her “Ghostbusters?”

Marry grinned “Nope. Poppa Bill. He’ll kick your ass.”

“Oh please!” Frank snorted “I’m not scared of Bill.” He shrugged “I could take him down.”

Mary pondered for a second before she looked at him, a positively wicked smirk crossing her face “Fine, I’ll call Uncle Steeby then. I know you’re scared of him.”

“No I’m not.” Frank scoffed and Mary snorted

“Whatever Frank, you’re only lying to yourself.” She said, standing up “Imma go get dressed. When we going for breakfast?”

“Soon as we’re ready.” Fliss smiled and Mary skipped out of the room, humming something to herself, Fred and Thor both following her as she went.

“You’re a liar.” Fliss looked at Frank.

“What?” he asked, picking Alex up and settling him on his knee.

“Saying you’re not scared of Steeby.”

“I’m not.” Frank shook his head, before his face rearranged into a little smile “I’m petrified of him.”

****

Just over an hour or so later they were settled in a booth at Keke's Breakfast cafe on Gulfport. Mary announced loudly that she didn’t need to see the menu, telling their server that she wanted her favourite, the apple and cinnamon waffles with a side of bacon. Frank rolled his eyes at her hyper nature, a soft smile on his face as she chatted away to the teenager who entertained her ramblings with the patience of a saint whilst he and Fliss gave the menu a cursory glance before they too opted for their standard order. Frank took the large French toast combo with his eggs over easy as always, whereas Fliss chose the raspberry stuffed French toast. They also ordered a side of plain pancakes for Alex, the baby now at the stage of holding various food items in his little hand and gumming them half to death with his few teeth. It kept him quiet and entertained whilst they ate, even if more of it did end up round his face and in his hair than his mouth.

Their food didn’t take long, Frank filling the 15 minute or so wait gently teasing Mary about a boy she had mentioned from school, causing her to narrow her eyes at him, protesting that they were just friends. When Fliss then pointed out that was how her and Frank started off she paused, pulled a face and then informed them that their accusations were both baseless and gross, causing Frank to laugh and lean back in his seat, taking a large drink of his coffee.

Their food arrived and Fliss cut up the pancakes, handing a large piece of one to Alex as they all tucked in, eating with gusto, a happy silence falling over the table which Mary broke a few moments later.

“Can we grill tonight?” she asked, her mouthful of food. Frank looked at her, where she was sat on the bench opposite him, next to Fliss. He shook his head “What?” she asked.

“Seriously, it’s breakfast time and you’re asking about what we’re eating tonight?”

Mary shrugged “You need to be more organised, Frank.”

Fliss gave a snort as Frank looked from Mary to her “Seriously, I’m 39 getting sassed by a soon to be 10 year old.”

“39…” Fliss sniggered and Frank nudged her under the table with his foot.

“So can we or not?” Mary demanded.

“Jeeez.” Frank rolled his eyes, picking up his coffee “It’s my birthday, don’t I get a say in what we do?”

“I’ve actually booked us a table somewhere.” Fliss spoke, cutting across the argument. “Thought it might be nice for us all to go out.”

“Where?” Mary turned to her.

“1200 Chophouse.”

Frank let out a groan of delight at the same time Mary punched the air “Seriously?”

Fliss nodded “It was going to be a surprise. Mum, Dad, Steve, Sian and the kids are coming. Oh, and Roberta.” She turned to Mary “So when we get back you need to ride then bath Monty and load the wagon ready for tomorrow. The table is booked for 6:30 so we can feed Alex before we go. He should be happy enough in the chair.”

Mary nodded “Am I on the 1pm class?”

Fliss shook her head “No, I told Joanne to take you off. I’ll teach you later once the class is done ok?”

Mary grinned “I like it best when we do that.”

Fliss smiled at her and then turned to Alex who had enthusiastically banged his fist on the little plastic tray of the high-chair. “You ok baby?” he grinned at her then let out a loud shriek. “Ok, hang on…” She tore another pancake in half and then handed it to him where he shoved it in his mouth straight away. She watched him for a second then looked at Frank “He’s got your appetite.”

“He’s a growing boy.” Frank shrugged.

“What’s your excuse?” Fliss teased and Frank swallowed the last of his breakfast and leaned back against the bench, arm resting along the back of it as he drank his coffee.

“I burn a lot of energy.” He said after little deliberation, shooting her a wink.

About half an hour later they finished their breakfast and headed home, Mary and Fliss both changing into their riding gear and heading over to the yard for the afternoon. Fliss was apologising to Frank about not spending the full day with him but he chuckled, assuring her that he some peace and quiet and one-to-one time with his boy was celebration enough, earning him a soft nip on his arm in retaliation. He spent the afternoon in between making sure Alex was happy and settled enough flicking through trash TV, drinking beer and scouting the internet for a couple of boat parts some of which were needed and others, like a surround sound digital entertainment system complete with satellite TV, were not. Nevertheless, he marked the catalogue number down along with the stuff he actually did need so he could see how much cheaper it would be when he ran it all through the system at work.

At just gone 5 Fliss and Mary came back through the door, Thor hot on their heels, Fliss face bright red and Mary’s streaked with tears.

“What…” Frank stood up and Fliss held her hand up, telling him to stop. He did as he was told, observing with a frown as Mary kicked off her boots and gave a sniff.

“Fliss, I didn’t…”

“I’ve nothing more to say on the issue.” Fliss cut her off.

“But…”

“No buts Mary.” Fliss shook her head “What you said was really mean and I won’t tolerate it ok?”

“Kay…” She sniffed again.

“The horse world is full of nasty bitches.” Fliss looked at her. “I don’t want you becoming one. You know, you’ve done spectacularly well for your first ever season and now and you’ve pretty much just ruined it for yourself because frankly I’m not sure letting you go tomorrow is appropriate given your behaviour.”

“I’m sorry…please, Fliss. I can’t miss the last show!”

“Enough!” Fliss voice rose and Mary shut her mouth hastily. “No more. Now go get showered and changed, we’re late, we need to leave in an hour.” Fliss spoke with a finality to her voice which Mary clearly picked up on as she didn’t argue or plead anymore. Instead she simply wiped her face and headed through the room to the hall, eyes focussed on the floor as she walked. When she shut the door behind her to the hallway, Frank turned to Fliss, his expression puzzled.

“Ok, what’s going on?”

Fliss groaned, heading to the fridge “She was practicing over a few jumps and couldn’t quite get Monty to make the turn on the last one right, he kept tripping or knocking the pole down so she started to get frustrated. And it didn’t help that Sally was stood watching. Mary carried on getting really annoyed and distracted, and basically screamed at Sally saying that she was putting her off and then called her an asshole and told her to leave because no one on the yard liked her.”

Frank arched an eyebrow “She said that?” Fliss nodded and he groaned “Jesus.”

“And then Sally’s mother started.” Fliss sighed heavily, shutting the fridge door and cracking open the bottle of water she’d retrieved. “She was accusing Mary of being a spoilt brat and a spiteful little witch so then I ended up arguing with her, you know, pointing out that they’re kids and they say stuff, and that Sally is no angel as she has an acid tongue too…not that that excuses what Mary said.” She took a long drink of water “The upshot is her mother served her notice and they’re leaving next weekend.”

“So you lost clients?” Frank folded his arms, shaking his head in frustration, “Because of Mary’s mouth?”

“2 boarders.” Fliss shrugged “I’m not too bothered about that side of it, I have a waiting list so I can fill them straight away, I just don’t want Sandybrook getting a reputation, you know? Livery Yards can be horrible places and I work so hard to nip any bitching and bad feelings in the bud before they can spiral.”

“Did Mary apologise?”

“Oh yeah.” Fliss swallowed some more water. “I tore strips off her. As soon as she said it I told her to get straight off Monty, put him away and we were done. I made her apologise in front of everyone who’d been watching and then told her I’m not sure if I’m gonna take her tomorrow. I also told her if it wasn’t for the fact it was your birthday and we had no one to babysit, she wouldn’t be going anywhere tonight either.” She paused and bit the inside of her lip and looked at Frank “Was that too much? I mean…”

“No, absolutely not.” Frank shook his head “And besides, even if I thought it was harsh, which I don’t, I’d never undermine you anyway.”

“Thing is Frank, I really want her to go tomorrow.” Fliss rolled her eyes, “She’s worked so hard and she’s not a bad kid. It feels such a shame to let all her hard work and practice go to waste.”

“Well you didn’t say she couldn’t go for sure, just that you were debating whether or not to allow it.” Frank shrugged “So, let’s see how she goes tonight when we’re out. Then we can decide.”

Fliss nodded “Okay.”

“Honey, don’t think on it.” Frank cocked his head to one side, the look on Fliss’ face betraying the internal conflict she was feeling “You did the right thing.”

“I know, I know but doesn’t stop me feeling shitty about it Frank.” Fliss sighed as Frank walked towards her “I hate having to tell her off. She’s a good kid most of the time and I know deep down she didn’t mean to be so cruel.”

“Well, we all say things at times we don’t mean. I’ve told her that a few times myself.” Frank smiled, wrapping his arms around Fliss.

“It was frustration more than anything.” Fliss melted into his arms and Frank gave a hum of agreement. “Frustration at not being perfect at something.” He said wisely “Monty isn’t an equation or a problem she can work out with maths or logic.” He shrugged “Maybe it will do her some good to learn a little humility.” He dropped a kiss to her head. “Now, no offence but you stink of horses and we have 50 minutes until we need to leave. Go grab your shower, I’ll feed Alex and then get ready. Won’t take me long.”

Fliss chuckled and pulled back, looking up at him, narrowing her eyes “You’re not wearing one of those shirts are you?”

“It’s my birthday.” Frank shrugged “Surely I can wear what I want?”

Fliss rolled her eyes “Whatever.”

“I thought you liked them?”

“They’re hideous”

“But endearing.” He dropped another kiss to her lips “At least that’s what you say.”

She chuckled “I’m only teasing, I kinda like you in them.” She kissed him again and then pulled away, giving a little jump as Frank slapped her ass as she turned around to walk away. She tossed him a look over her shoulder which he met with an innocent one of his own before she walked into the hall, heading up the stairs.

20 minutes or so later, complete with Alex who had enthusiastically wolfed down a generous helping of Fliss’ home-made cauliflower, broccoli and cheese puree, whilst simultaneously smearing it all over his face, he headed up the stairs and into their bedroom. Fliss was wrapped in a robe, finishing off straightening her once hair and she gave a smile as Alex grinned at her.

“He really likes that stuff you made him.” Frank smiled and looked down at his son as he gabbled away in his arms. “I’ll get him cleaned and dressed before I take a shower.”

“I got his outfit ready.” Fliss smiled “It’s on the changing mat.”

“Don’t you trust my fashion sense?” Frank teased and she grinned.

“Your fashion sense is exactly why I picked it.”

“Rude.”

“Trust me, when you see it…you’ll understand.” She smirked.

“Okay…” Frank pulled a confused face before he dropped a kiss to her cheek and turned to head across the hall to the bathroom. 5 minutes later he’d managed to give Alex a quick bath to clean him up and after a little wrestle as the baby really was becoming a wriggle worm, he finally got him wrapped him in his little bear towel with the hood pulled over his light brown hair. Emerging from the family bathroom he made his way towards the nursery, pausing as he heard a little sniffle coming from Mary’s room. Taking a deep breath he moved towards that door instead and gently knocked.

“Stack?” he asked, and when she didn’t tell him to either ‘go away’ or ‘wait a second’ he reached with one hand to open the door and pushed it gently inwards. Mary was sat on the huge bean bag which was situated underneath her raised cabin bed, a book on her lap, her hair damp from the shower. She was dressed in a smart denim skirt which was printed with little white stars and a red plaid top with lace trim down either side of the column of buttons and round the collar. “That new?” he asked having not seen the top before.

“Fliss bought it me last week in Target” she said quietly, wiping her eyes. “I liked it so she said I could have it as I’d done well with Monty”

“Well, you got good taste.” he smiled “Take after me.”

At that she gave him a scathing look and he chuckled a little as Alex let out a little gurgle, his arms outstretched. Mary held her arms out for him so Frank crossed the spacious room and handed the baby over. Alex grinned and made a grab for Mary’s hair, making her smile as Frank sat on the floor in front of them both, his back leaning against the ladders that led up to her bunk.

“You gonna shout at me as well?” she asked after a little pause and Frank inhaled deeply.

“No.” he shook his head, letting his breath out slowly “I think Fliss said everything that needed to be said. I’ve nothing more to add really.”

“Are you mad?”

“No, just disappointed Mary.” he said honestly “I thought I’d taught you better than that.”

Mary looked down, her shoulders slumped “I didn’t mean it. I was just angry. Sally makes me mad.”

“You make me mad sometimes but I don’t say nasty things.” Frank sighed, “Well, I hope I don’t.”

As he spoke those words his mind strayed back a few years to the incident in his apartment when he’d stood on the lego bricks. It seemed like a life time ago, Mary had been so little compared to the girl that sat before him now.

“Hey, look at me.” he said gently and she raised her eyes to his. “Did you mean it when you said sorry?”

Mary nodded “Yeah, I did. But her mom started calling me names and she was so mad at Fliss. Fliss told her to shut up in the end but then she told me off too.”

“Well, that’s because Fliss…” Frank paused, swallowing a little as the words formed in his mind “Well, Fliss is your mom and she loves you, so she’s gonna defend you. That doesn’t mean she agrees with what you did or that what you did was justifiable.”

“I know.” Mary’s voice was quiet “Is she mad? Sally’s mom said they were leaving.”

“Yes they are but…” Frank shook his head “No, she’s not mad. Perhaps a little disappointed in you too, but you know the rules, no one stays mad in this house. We say our piece, we apologise, we move on. And we try to be better in future.”

It wasn’t quite a flat out lie, whilst he and Fliss could argue and stay pissed at each other for days, where Mary (and in the future no doubt Alex) was concerned it was a different story.

“Do you think she’ll let me go tomorrow?”

“Depends on how you behave tonight.” Frank shrugged, moving his legs as he made to stand “I honestly don’t know.”

Mary took a deep breath and Frank pushed himself to his feet with a slight groan as his knees clicked. Fuck this getting older shit.

“Will she dry my hair for me?” Mary looked at Frank.

“Go and ask.” Frank replied simply, taking Alex off her. She followed him out of her room and made her way over to their room, knocking on the door. He paused in the doorway of the nursery, watching as she pushed it open timidly and he saw Fliss look up from where she’d been doing her make up.

“Lissy…” she said quietly “Please could you do my hair for me?”

“Course I will.” Liss smiled, beckoning her in. “Come on.” As she stood up so Mary could sit at the stool she caught Frank’s eye and he gave her a wink before he turned into their son’s room and made his way over to the changing unit at the right hand side. As soon as he saw the outfit he gave a loud laugh and shook his head taking in the tiny little yellow palm printed Hawaiian shirt, almost identical to the one he owned, and jeans.

“You’re momma thinks she’s so funny.” he snorted, dropping a kiss to Alex’s head as he lay him back on the mat. “And to be fair, as far as jokes go, that one’s pretty good.”

*****

The managed to depart just 10 minutes after their aimed for time and arrived at the restaurant 5 minutes or so late, but all things considered that wasn’t a huge issue. They walked in, Frank pushing Alex’s buggy as Fliss gave them the reservation name.

“Ah, yes, Mrs Adler, the rest of your party are in the bar area. If you head through I’ll let your server know you’re all here and she’ll come show you to the table.”

“Thanks.” Fliss smiled, and the 4 of them headed to the left. Mary spotted Steve and the twins first and gave a little yell, running over towards them, Frank, Fliss and Alex following.

“Mrs Adler, huh?” Frank teased, his voice low as he leaned down to speak into Fliss’ ear, the warmth that had flooded his chest at hearing the guy essentially calling Fliss his wife evident in his eyes which were bright with love.

Fliss gave a shrug, grinning as she turned her head to look at him. “I just gave Adler as the name for the table, he just assumed.”

“Well, you will be soon enough.” He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

He expected some sarcastic response about how there was still time for her to change her mind but none came. Instead she merely beamed at him, her hand gently reaching up to cup his cheek “Can’t wait Sailor.” She bit her lip and Frank could do nothing but smile back like a complete love struck idiot, his forehead pressing to hers as he kissed the tip of her nose.

“Get a room!” Steve bellowed over the bar area and Fliss merely turned her head to look at him, raising her middle finger.

“Felicity Rose Gallagher!” Verity scalded “Stop being so uncouth. I brought you up better than that.”

Fliss rolled her eyes “Dad didn’t”

Bill scrunched his face up and shrugged “Touche Titch.” He chuckled as he reached out for Frank, grabbing his hand and pulling him into a manly hug “Happy birthday, Son.”

“Thanks Bill.” Frank smiled, turning to Steve next who did the same before he then greeted Sian, Verity and Roberta with hugs and kisses to the cheek before he ruffled Charlie and Joel’s hair as they came over and hugged him round his waist. “You two grown since last week?” he asked, looking at the 2 boys whose heads were both now almost level with his ribcage.

“Feels like it.” Sian mumbled “Mind you, not like their father is a small man is it?”

Steve opened his mouth, grinning to make a dirty comment no doubt about his size so to speak but instead he gave a yelp as Verity reached up and slapped the back of his head “Don’t even think about it Steven.” She pointed at him.

“Mum…” he wailed as Frank chuckled, moving to the bar after checking if anyone else needed a drink.

“This is on us tonight.” Bill pushed up next to him, waving his hand at the bar tender “Yeah, on the tab for table 20, thanks…”

“Bill, there’s no need.” Frank began the usual protest whenever either of his future in-laws insisted on paying but as normal Bill shook his head.

“I know but we want to.” He shrugged “I mean what’s the world coming to when I can’t treat my kids to dinner huh?”

Frank sighed a little and smiled “Thanks.”

Bill nodded as Frank placed his order- a pilsner for him, lemonade for Mary and a tonic water for Fliss who had said she would drive home. They’d debated getting a cab but as she had assumed she would be up early in the morning to drive to the Competition and said she’d prefer to drive. Now that was all hanging in the balance due to Mary’s earlier behaviour, or lack of more to the point.

Shortly after they were shown to their table, Mary taking a seat next to the twins in between Verity and Bill. When both Steve and Frank began to tell them to sit where they could keep an eye on them, Verity scoffed and waved them away, her arm dropping round Mary.

“My pudding can sit next to me if she wants.” She pouted and Frank rolled his eyes before shooting Mary a look.

“First sign of any nonsense…”

“I know.” She cast her eyes down before she looked at him. “Please can I have my Tablet?”

Frank looked at Fliss and she nodded, reaching into the bag under the stroller for it and handing it over.

“Volume down.” Frank instructed as he passed it round and she took it with a thanks. The three kids huddled round it as Mary turned it on, no doubt looking at their latest Minecraft game or whatever the hell it was the three of them seemed to spend half their lives connected to one another over the internet for. Whilst Frank was conscious most people might consider this lazy parenting, he saw it as being no different to them having a toy or colouring book at the table and so left them to it, as they began to chatter amongst themselves, only being interrupted when they were asked to pick what they wanted to eat. Once the orders were placed and another round of drinks appeared, Frank was handed 3 gift bags over the table, blushing slightly as he took them with thanks. Bill and Verity had bought him a bottle of 15 year Barrell Craft Spirits Bourbon and a new pair of Ray Bans after his had met a sticky end when Alex had pulled them off his face and then dropped them onto the floor where Fliss had accidentally stood on them, cracking the lens. Fully aware of how expensive both those items were he thanks them, whilst reprimanding them once more for spending too much money on them to which Verity hushed him and Bill merely rolled his eyes giving a shrug. Roberta had gotten him a new tool belt for him to use when working on the boat which he was really pleased with. As he showed it to Fliss she cheekily quipped in a quiet voice that he could finally get rid of the spanner in his pocket which had made Sian choke on her drink when she overheard. Steve pat her on her back as she sorted herself out, and then Frank reached into the final bag from Steve, Sian and the boys. He thanked them for the 6 pack of Sam Adams, which could sometimes be hard to find in the stores in Florida, nodded in appreciation at the new Patriots Jersey they’d gotten him with ADLER arched over the back, and reached in to pull the last item out, which was a blue baseball cap.

“What the…” he scoffed and looked at Steve who had broken into a huge guffaw of laughter at the look of disgust on Franks face. Bill and Verity also started to chuckle and as Fliss reached out to turn it towards her she snorted as Roberta slapped the top of the table in utter hysterics as the white letters MAGA stood out clear against the dark navy.

“That was his idea, not mine.” Sian protested as Frank looked down, shaking his head at the joke before he spotted the small writing under the larger letters. “Make the Asshole Gone Again.” He read, and at that he gave a loud laugh. “Wonder if I’ll get away with wearing it for work?”

"I thought you said you were voting Trump?" Roberta’s voice was serious and Frank shook his head, taking a swig from his beer, as she gave him a cheeky grin.

"Don't start him off again, please Roberta!" Fliss groaned "I had to stop him putting his foot through the TV last night when they showed that Jordan Klepper vs Trump Supporters section on the Daily Show."

"He’s an ass clown." Frank replied and Steve laughed.

“Suppose being a Democrat is part and parcel of coming from Mass, huh Frank?”

“What, like being Anti-Tory is part and parcel of being from Merseyside?” Frank shot back and Steve gave a grin, raising his glass in his direction.

“Correct!” Steve nodded enthusiastically.

“Damned Tories…” Bill shook his head. “Johnson doesn’t know his arse from his elbow.”

“You know, I seriously think you should be IQ tested before you're allowed to vote.” Fliss shrugged and Roberta leaned forward.

“Yeah but, how can you test what ain’t there?"

Everyone at the table laughed as Frank reached for his beer. "Actually, if you think about it, it’s pretty simple." he swallowed a mouthful of his drink and looked at Roberta "One question- are you voting Trump? If they answer yes then they clearly have the IQ of a goldfish, right to vote denied."

The table laughed again and it wasn’t long then until their starters arrived and the chatter slowed as everyone tucked in, Fliss taking a minute or so to settle Alex who had woken up with perfect timing as ever.

“You want me to sort him?” Frank lay a hand on her thigh and she shook her head, handing the baby a teething ring.

“No, I got it.” She smiled, “Besides he’s good now.”

Frank gave her knee a squeeze and then glanced across the table where Bill was looking at Mary.

“So, you all set for your last competition tomorrow?” he asked and Frank let out a little groan.

“I err…” Mary’s eyes fell down towards her food “I don’t know if I’m going.”

“Why not?” Verity asked.

Frank looked at Fliss, who had been about to open her mouth and gently shook his head. He wanted Mary to be the one to explain, she was the one that had misbehaved after all.

“Because I was naughty.” She shrugged “So Fliss and Frank said they don’t know if I can go.”

Verity and Bill looked at one another before they both glanced over the table at Frank and Fliss. Fliss raised her eyebrows a little as Frank reached for his drink.

“Oh, well, I’m sure you’ve learned your lesson.” Verity looked at Mary and she nodded again, her eyes still on her plate, brimming with tears.

“It all depends on tonight.” Frank spoke softly “Good behaviour over dinner and we’ll think about it.”

“Really?” Mary asked, looking up and he nodded.

“Really.”

“What did you do?” Charlie asked.

“Never you mind.” Sian cut him off, looking at him.

“It doesn’t matter what Mary did.” Fliss stated simply “It was dealt with and that’s that. No need to talk about it anymore.”

“But…”

“Charlie, stop.” Steve said sternly. Charlie narrowed his eyes at his dad and Steve pointed his fork at him “Carry on mate, see where that attitude gets you.”

Threat received and understood, Charlie went back to eating and the talk struck up once more about Frank and Fliss’ trip to Vermont the weekend after. The more they talked about it, the more Frank found himself getting excited. 3 nights alone with Fliss in a cabin in the middle of what he was hoping would be a decent covering of snow sounded like his idea of heaven.

Dinner passed with no more talk of misbehaving children and at just gone 9pm they finished desert and Frank sat back, the waistband of his jeans feeling a hell of a lot tighter than they had when he arrived.

“Think I’m having a food baby.” Fliss groaned besides him and he turned to her, raising his eyebrows.

“As long as it’s not a real one.”

She snorted into her lemonade, shaking her head “Oh no…”

“You not fancy another?” Sian, who had heard the exchanged asked and Fliss looked at her, hesitating a little.

“Not at the moment, no.”

“Well that’s a step up from the ‘Oh,Christ no’ you spluttered last time the subject was raised” Frank teased and she nudged him with her elbow as Steve sniggered.

“You can shut up as well!” Fliss glared at him

“Ah come on Titch, another baby in the family would be great.”

“Well you have another, if you want one so bad!”

“We are.” Sian spoke and at that the table fell silent. All eyes turned to her, Verity and Bill exchanging a glance with one another as Fliss looked from Sian, to Steve who leaned back in his chair, arm falling round his wife’s shoulder, a smug smirk on his handsome face.

“No, are you…really?” Verity’s hand fell to the hollow of her throat as Sian blushed a little, nodding.

“We found out last week.” Sian smiled, looking at Steve “We wanted to get you all together and…”

The table fell silent before there was a sudden flurry of excited voices and the scraping of chairs as everyone stood up to hug one another and offer congratulations.

“What’s going on?” Joel piped up and Steve smiled as he sat back down having just received a huge bro hug from Frank.

“We just told everyone about the baby.” He smiled and the twin’s faces fell into identical expressions of understanding.

“What baby?” Mary asked.

“The one Aunty Sian’s gonna have.” Frank looked at her.

“You having a baby?” Mary looked across the table.

“We sure are.” Steve beamed.

“That’s so cool!” Mary grinned.

“So, when are you due?” Fliss asked and Sian smiled.

“Middle of October.” She said “So I’m gonna be huge at your wedding.”

“Especially if its twins again.” Mary chipped in and Frank turned to look at her, before he bit his lip and glanced back up at Steve who’d paled a little.

“You know it is a possibility…” Roberta grinned “Happened to a friend o’ma sister’s. Two sets of twins.”

“Oh, just think Bill!” Verity beamed “Another two grandkids…”

“Mum, shut up!” Steve groaned as the table laughed.

Not long after the happy news, everyone agreed that it was time to be heading home. After another mini argument between Bill, Steve, Roberta and Frank about the check, which Steve and Frank both lost, the party all gathered their things and headed out to the parking lot.

“Roberta, you need a lift?” Fran asked but before she could answer Verity shook her head.

“She’s coming back to ours. We have a bottle of Rioja to crack open.”

Bill let out a dramatic sigh “Can I come sleep in your guest place-ow!” he yelled as Roberta reached up and slapped him round the back of the head.

With a snort Frank clipped Alex into the baby seat and after another goodbye to everyone they headed home arriving just before 10.

“Did you have a nice night?” Fliss asked Frank as they walked up towards the door and Frank nodded, dropping a kiss to her head.

“It was fantastic, the whole day has been great. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Shame your mom couldn’t make it.”

“Well she’s still getting over that virus but I was thinking. Maybe near Mary’s birthday we could head up to Mass? We haven’t been since…” he trailed off and Fliss instantly understood why, the last time they’d been in Boston had been when Mary had been taken ill and John had attacked Fliss.

“I think that’s a great idea.” Fliss said as Frank unlocked the door. “It’s a short enough flight for Alex and it would be nice to go.”

Frank smiled as they all stepped inside and Thor came charging out of the kitchen to greet them all.

“Do I have to go to bed or can I watch TV?” Mary asked, looking up “It is Saturday…”

“Well, I would say yes but we have an early start tomorrow.” Fliss looked at Frank and he instantly understood.He rolled his eye softly before giving a concessive nod and Fliss continued “I mean that is if we wanna get to the show on time.”

“I can go?” Mary’s head whipped to look at them both and Fliss nodded.

“Yes, you can go.”

“Oh my god thank you, thank you!” Mary shot over to hug her, her arms wrapping round Fliss’ waist “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“I know.” Fliss dropped a kiss to her head. “Now skoot, we’re gonna be up at 6.”

Mary hugged her again, then turned to Frank who swung her up with a groan “Stop growing will ya?”

“I’ll try!” she giggled, squishing his cheeks between her hands. “Love you dad.”

Dad.

Frank felt his stomach twist, and he glanced at Fliss whose hand had flown to her mouth, her eyes wide. She hastily swallowed, recovering herself, her eyes glassing over as she shifted Alex’s car seat in her arms before she turned to place it on the coffee table.

“I love you too.” Frank cleared his throat, as he dropped Mary to the floor “Go on, I’ll come tuck you in in five.”

She skipped off up the stairs, Fred hot on her heels and as soon as her door shut Frank turned to Fliss.

“You ok?” she asked and he nodded, his eyes full of unshed tears as he sank down onto the arm of the couch. “How do you feel?”

“I don’t know.” He replied softly, and he truly didn’t. “Shocked, a little. I guess, that even despite the adoption I never…well, I never anticipated that because she’s not actually mine and…”

His face screwed up a little, and Fliss stepped in between his legs her arms wrapping around his broad shoulders. He pressed his face into her chest, his arms curling around her waist as she gently stroked one hand through his hair and down his neck.

“Of course she’s yours.” She whispered, dropping a kiss to his head. “I keep telling you this. In every single way possible bar biologically, she’s your daughter Frank. We got the paper work to prove it.” At that he spluttered a little laugh and Fliss pulled back to look at him, her hands cupping his face as she wiped away a single tear that had fallen down his cheek.

“We just never talked about it.” He shrugged a little lamely and Fliss smiled.

“Somethings you just can’t prepare for, no matter how much philosophy or logic you try and apply.” Her brown eyes locked onto his “This was just, well, it was a natural thing. I can’t explain it any better than that. The question is, did it feel uncomfortable?”

“No.” Frank answered honestly as he shook his head, taking a deep breath, his lip quivering. “And that’s what shocked me the most. I always thought I’d hate it but…”

“But you didn’t?”

“No.”

“And are you gonna be okay if she keeps calling you dad?”

He nodded and Fliss gently bent down to kiss him softly, before pulling away “Then roll with it. Like Dad did with me. You know, if you wanted to you speak to him then I’m sure he’d-“

“I already did.” Frank shrugged a little. “Months ago, just after we’d moved in here and we’d decided to adopt her. He told me about how you’d made that wish at your birthday and…” Frank took a deep breath “And I know Mary’s always said she wishes I was her dad and I guess, well if I’m honest there’s always been this part of me that wishes I was, despite Diane.”

“Diane would be happy, I’m sure.” Fliss looked at him “Frankie, I know this is probably gonna sound so shit, but, well there’s a reason she came to you to…well to do what she did, because she trusted you with her daughter. And you’ve done her proud baby, so proud.”

Frank felt the burning in his nose as he scrunched his face up in an attempt to stem the tears that were threatening to overwhelm him and once more Fliss wrapped her arms around him, gently rubbing between his shoulder blades. “What do I do now?” he whispered “How do I react?”

“You don’t “Fliss replied, kissing his head “You take a minute, then you go upstairs and tuck her in as usual. Don’t make a big thing about it or she’ll start to worry. Chances are she hasn’t even realised she’s said it.”

“And if she has?”

“Well then be honest. Tell her its okay.” She felt Frank nod and then she stepped back, her hands on his shoulders. “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay.” He stood up, wiping his face. He took a deep breath and glanced down at Fliss and smiled, “I love you.”

“Love you too.” She smiled “Now go on, I’ll check the doors and be up with you in a second.”

Frank climbed the stairs, taking a deep breath before he knocked gently and walked into Mary’s room. She was already in bed, Fred curled by her feet and as Frank crossed the room he almost tripped over her discarded clothes.

“Seriously?” Frank pointed them as they lay on the bedroom floor. “Wardrobe, not floordrobe Stack!”

“Oops.” Mary grimaced and Frank rolled his eyes, picking the items up, tossing them onto the bean bag under the bed.

“If they’re clean put them away, if not put them in your laundry hamper.” He instructed, leaning against the rails of her bed.

“Sorry, I’ll do it tomorrow.” Mary shuffled onto her side to look at him. “Did you have a good birthday?”

“The best.” Frank smiled honestly “Got to spend it with all my favourite people. And you.” Mary shoved him gently and he laughed, “Joking, joking!” he smiled, brushing her hair back off her face “You know you’re my best girl.”

“What about Fliss?” Mary narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“She’s my best woman.” Frank answered easily. Mary looked at him before she smiled, accepting his explanation. “You excited about tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Mary nodded “And nervous.”

“Nothing to be nervous about.” Frank shook his head “Just go out there and enjoy it. You’ve done so well for a first season, Fliss was saying that earlier. We’re proud of you sweetheart.”

“Thanks.” She grinned “Hey, Frank?”

“Yeah?”

“You know what I said before...downstairs?”

Frank took a deep breath “I do.”

“Did it bother you?”

“Not one bit.” He smiled and Mary grinned.

“Good, because I think I’d like to say it more going forward.” She reached out, her fingers fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. “Unless you annoy me. And then you can be Frank again.”

Frank chuckled “Sounds like a deal, Stack”

“Okay, you can go now. I need to sleep.” Mary snuggled down into the covers and Frank smiled, pulling them up round her chin, dropping a kiss to her head.

“Night”

“Night.”

He turned to leave the room, throwing a last glance over his shoulder before he closed the door behind him.

***** “Mary, are you paying attention?” Fliss looked at her as she sat astride Monty, grinning ear to ear.

“Yeah, sorry.” She turned her head, “I’m just so happy!”

“I know honey!” Fliss chuckled, “And you did so well in your other two classes and yes we’re gonna celebrate that later but focus on this one now, yeah? You’ve gone clear so all you need to do is get round the jump off. You remember the order?”

“Erm…” Mary spun in the saddle looking round “Yeah its two, six, nine, double back to twelve, across to five and then you send him quickly down the line to finish at eight.”

“Good.” Fliss smiled “Remember, let Monty find his way. Don’t mess too much and if you think you can make that sharp turn after nine and cut through instead of round four then do it. If not, take the safe route and aim for clear.”

“Ok, yeah, got it.”

“Glad you did.” Frank mumbled, gently pushing Alex’s buggy to and fro as the baby dozed “’Coz that all sounded like a different language to me.”

“That’s because you don’t get it, Dad.” Mary turned to look at him.

“You’re right, I don’t.” Frank agreed

“You would do if you spent more time watching me instead of faffing with the boat in the garage.” Mary shrugged. At her words Frank narrowed his eyes and turned to Fliss who was biting her lip, a faint flush on her cheeks.

“Don’t look at me!”

“Oh, I’m lookin’ at you Cowgirl, because no one else I know uses the word faff.” He arched an eyebrow. “Well apart from your mom, dad, Steve and Sian…damned British slang!”

Fliss snorted “Ok, busted. But that’s not exactly what I said.”

“Well what was?” he dropped his voice a little and Fliss started to laugh.

“I just said to Jo when she commented she hadn’t seen you in a while that you were busy with the other woman in your life aka the boat.”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Hey, that engine was giving me trouble.”

“I’m sure it was.”

“And you weren’t complaining about me faffing too much when you were up there with me a few weeks back.” Frank dropped his head as he spoke into her ear and smirked as Fliss shivered at the feel of his bearded cheek scratching slightly at her neck.

“Well that situation benefitted me.” She muttered back, her eyes hidden behind her shades as she kept her face turned towards the ring, watching the first of the ten kids through to the jump off go.

“Very selfish of you Miss Gallagher.”

“Well when it comes to you I don’t like sharing.”

Frank gave a chuckle and pressed a kiss to her cheek “No worries on that count, I’m all yours baby.”

She smiled, and then winced as the competitor in the ring misjudged the turn between two jumps and the pony slammed on, sending her flying over its neck. Frank swallowed as Mary turned to look at Fliss her eyes wide.

“Why did she undercut that turn then?”

Fliss shook her head “If she’d have hugged tighter to the corner she might have made it but as it was she only got a two stride run up.” She bit her lip then frowned “Don’t you do that!”

“I wasn’t gonna!” Mary snorted, rolling her eyes.

“Good.” Fliss nodded “Like I said, you can make your time up between nine and twelve and then five and eight, if you need to.”

Frank groaned “Why couldn’t you pick a nice safe hobby…like swimming or something?”

Mary looked at him reproachfully “Frank, I could already swim.”

“Yeah but…”

“And Swimming can be dangerous, people drown.”

“Not if they’re supervised.”

“And besides, if I hadn’t wanted to go horse riding, you’d have never met Fliss.” Mary looked at him, fixing him with a maddening smug look because she knew that was the absolute ace card.

“Okay, you got me there.” Frank grumbled “Smart ass.”

Fliss chuckled as the three of them turned their attention to the ring and eventually after the other nine riders had finished, Mary’s name and number was called having been pulled last in the random order draw.

“Good luck.” Fliss smiled as she walked Mary to the gate of the arena before she set off, trotting Monty around the outside of the arena before the buzzer sounded. And then she was off. Frank hated this bit, and always found himself torn between desperately wanting to watch and also wanting to look the other way. He normally settled for a combination of the two, watching for a second, looking away, glancing back…but this time he found himself watching Fliss. Her face was set in utter concentration as she watched Mary’s round, her head tilting left to right, her hand making a pulling motion as she was willing Mary to slow Monty down and then suddenly she perked up completely, her lips curling upwards.

“She’s cut the corner, she’s gone for it.” She whispered and Frank’s eyes snapped back to the arena to see Mary clear the second to last jump and Monty picked up the pace. “Not too fast.” Fliss muttered “Pull him up, just take a check, a little one. Oh, shit!”

At Fliss’ last words Monty took off, clipping the pole with his front feet. It rolled in the cups and Frank held his breath before it rocked a little too far and fell to the floor. There was a collective sigh of disappointment around the ring from the spectators and then applause rang out as Mary crossed the finish line and turned to see the pole on the floor. She hung her head a little, shaking it before she trotted out and stopped by Fliss and Frank.

“Hey…” Fliss beamed at her “That was really unlucky. He only just clipped it.”

“It rolled?” Mary grimaced and Fliss wrinkled her nose as they set off back to the wagon.

“Fraid so.”

“Bummer.” Mary shook her head.

“What?” Frank asked, utterly puzzled.

“It means that the pole simply rolled off, it wasn’t taken straight down with the knock.” Fliss explained “Believe me, It’s the most annoying thing in the world.”

“But it’s the same result.” Frank looked at them both and Mary groaned exasperatedly.

“Don’t talk about stuff you don’t understand!”

“That’s me told.” Frank scoffed as she jumped off Monty and proceeded to remove her hat.

“Can we go see who won?” She turned to Fliss who had just taken Monty’s saddle off.

“Sure, let’s get him loaded up and then we’ll go.”

Once Monty was back on board, the ramp shut they headed back down to the Arena, Fliss pushing Alex’s buggy as Mary slipped her hand into Frank’s. They arrived back just in time to see the placings.

“Oh, that’s cool.” Mary shrugged “Saffy won the class.”

“You know her?” Fliss frowned.

“Only from when we were waiting in line before.” Mary shrugged “She seemed nice. I wonder who’s won it overall.”

“We’ll check online later.” Fliss said, before she grinned “You know, I’d kinda like to know who won the Junior Rider class for the season. Any idea Frank?”

“Oh, some blonde kid with an attitude problem.” He shrugged as Mary looked up at him, her eyebrows arched, hands on her hips.

“Well everyone says I act like you so any attitude I do have…” she drew a circle in the air with her index finger of the hand that wasn’t holding his before pointing at him “…is one hundred percent your fault.”

Fliss spluttered out a laugh as Frank blinked, looking at Mary then to Fliss. “I…wow.” was all he could bring himself to say.

The three of them politely applauded as the top six riders took a lap of honour before the winner took her own and as she emerged from the ring Mary let go of Frank’s hand and stepped forward.

“Well done.” She smiled at the girl who sat atop a chestnut pony and Frank watched, the pride in his chest almost stopping his breathing. He felt Fliss slide an arm round his waist and he moved, dropping his own over her shoulders as she leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“Thanks Mary!” the girl grinned “You were so unlucky with your last pole.”

“I did my best.” Mary shrugged “That’s what my mom and dad say matters the most.”

Frank felt Fliss stiffen a little besides him “Did she…”

“Yeah…”he whispered, dropping a kiss to her head.

Fliss took a shaky breath and hastily blinked back the tears as Mary turned back towards them “Hey, can I go get a drink with Saffy from their van? I’ll be like 10 minutes?”

“Erm…” Fliss wiped her face and looked at the woman next to Saffy who smiled and nodded.

“It’s fine.” She beamed “Fliss isn’t it? You run Sandybrook?”

“Yeah.” Fliss smiled.

“I’m Jenny, Saf’s mom. And we’re just parked right there.” The woman spoke “I wouldn’t mind a chat with you actually about a horse I have. He needs backing and you came recommended.”

“Sure, just…” Fliss looked at Frank and he gave a grin

“I’ll set off back with him.” he nodded to Alex who was fast asleep. “See you at home, take as long as you need.”

“You sure?”

“Course.” Frank gave her a kiss before he called to Mary “Hey Stack, I’m gonna go.” She turned and ran towards him, hugging him tight as his hand dropped to the back of her head. “I’m proud of you.” He said softly and she beamed.

“Thanks Dad.”

He gave her another hug before he turned and took the brake off the stroller, turning it round. As he made his way back towards where his truck was park he tossed a glance over his shoulder to see Fliss now in a full on laugh at something the woman called Jenny had said, head tipped back, shoulders shaking, her pretty profile simply radiating happiness.

And right there, Frank knew there couldn’t possibly be ANY man in the world who felt the sheer contentment and love that he did right then.

***** Chapter 20

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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anntoldst0ries · 3 years

Text

Lost in Translation

If someone told me a couple of months ago how invested I’d be in OH and the story, I would laugh at them. But here we are, isn’t life full of surprises :)

Apologies for mistakes, if you notice any please feel free to let me know!

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC

Word Count: 2,358

Summary: What happens when it’s just Dr Ramsey and his thoughts?

Warnings: None, just a tiny bit of angst & fluff. A lot of introspection!

~~~~~~~

After what felt like the longest shift ever, Dr Ethan Ramsey finally entered his apartment. He closed the door, leaving the whirlwind of his professional life outside.

A biscuit golden retriever jumped at him with all the might in his paws and the sore muscles of a 37-year old diagnostician almost gave up under the pressure of furry ball of fluff.

“I’m happy to see you too, buddy. But you need to go easy on me today.”

Jenner just stared at him with those big black eyes, licked his hand and went back to solving the most important problem of the day: how to cadge some real food, the one hooomans eat.

Although he was far from contemplating whether dogs have what resembles an intelligence (it was someone else’s specialty) he couldn’t help but think Jenner knows. This constantly salivating, instinct-driven creature somehow understands what it is that Ethan asked him to do and why.

“Great, Ramsey. You are going crazy, may as well admit yourself to the psychiatric ward right now. Dr Keller will be delighted to see you. And all the predators of Edenbrook will finally have a proper fodder - Ethan freaking Ramsey has officially freaked out.”

Having poured himself a decent glass of scotch, he stood in front of a giant window overlooking the bay. The waters were quiet and calm, a total contrast to the fire burning inside him after taking a long sip. There was something soothing in the almost painful feeling. 10 years ago downing a whole glass of neat scotch was way beyond his repertoire. One of the perks of being over 35, he guessed. It was scientifically proven that man’s tastebuds change drastically after reaching certain age. He had to admit, there was at least a grain of truth in this. The gold liquid was no longer just bitter and harsh; it had texture, flavour, a complexity - something he wasn’t able to appreciate before. As a doctor, he also knew that he’s got 20, maybe 25 years of this experience left - until ruthless time and ageing will blend all tastes into one.

The lights of the night danced around the spacious living room, their gold reflections creating an aura of mystery in a dimly-lit apartment. He looked around and his gaze landed on antique vase, a present Naveen brought him from Greece for his 35th birthday. It complemented tasteful interior design, expensive decorations and custom furniture perfectly.

As beautiful as they were, all these things made him feel nothing. It was almost ironic that this unquestionably beautiful property, paid for with his own blood, sweat and tears, he couldn’t possibly care less about. Right now, he could have been in some shithole in Roxbury, sipping cheap beer and it would make no difference whatsoever. Except, it would have saved him a mini fortune, which he was now spending on this goddamn penthouse in Beacon Hill. A place he never ever spent more than 4 hours at a time in.

He smirked at the thought - that’s exactly what Naveen said about his own lake house before saying goodbye to his mentee last year. Back when he thought he was going to die soon. Was it surprising? No, everyone was expecting that Ethan will one day take Naveen’s place as the best diagnostician in the world. He considered this not so much an honour, but rather a tribute to his biggest idol, his friend, his father figure. If he was to ever repay Dr Banerji for everything he’s done for him, there was only one way - he needed to be the best among the best.

They called him the best diagnostician of his generation. Although he resented the title, this label given to him by the mutual admiration society (that he had zero respect for), he was very much aware that he was exceptional at his job. Ethan never thought of this as bragging, because bragging made people vain. He liked to think of it as self-confidence, which, as it grew stronger, made him work for his patients even harder than he ever thought possible. The people whose lives he saved, they had to have confidence in him. They had to believe that he knows what he’s doing. And how could he instil a sense of confidence in them, had he not had it himself?

“You can’t give what you don’t have.” - the sentence kept echoing in his head. Tobias used to say that to him all the time, he lived by these words. It was probably the only relic of their once unbreakable (or so they stupidly thought) bond and also the only thing relating to Tobias that didn’t make him want to gag.

So Ethan accepted his role as a successor of the greatest diagnostician in the country. Because there was a mission and a responsibility behind this fate. Because there was a sense of safety in predictable realms of medicine. Also, because… it felt like kicking Tobias right in the crotch. Although he’d never admit this to anyone, least of all himself, the unwritten competition they were subject to for the past 17 years, helped him keep a laser focus on the tasks in front of him. And every time he was able to wipe the smile off Mass Kenmore’s ‘star’ handsome face, Ethan felt satisfaction.

Becoming the man he was today required a lot of changes. He got rid of all the needs of usual Everyman. First, he swept his feelings under the carpet of indifference and cynicism. Then, he learned how to live among people, but without delving into deep and ‘meaningful’ relationships. This was his bauble and he was perfectly… content with it. That is, until it hadn’t been smashed to pieces because something happened to him.

Someone happened to him.

Oh fuck.

He made a desperate attempt to try and stop the inevitable, but it was too late.

His head was instantly flooded with images, followed by ubiquitous tingles that filled his body. In his mind’s eye, a face shaped instantly, the image so vivid that he was almost blinded by it. It’s as if the person was standing right in front of him. The feeling was as mesmerising as it was painful.

Damn it. She didn’t even have to be here to do things to him. To make him see things. Smell things. Hear things. Feel things.

Ethan and The Feelings. This band rarely played together. Ethan wasn’t really a team player and The Feelings were loud, untameable and too unpredictable for the likes of him. He had to learn to tolerate them, because wherever she went, they followed.

He couldn’t rid of her presence, no matter where he was or what he did. Not that he wanted to - he just couldn’t, for the love of god, comprehend all this. Having been a king of self-control and master of his own life, it was beyond Ethan’s understanding how this woman, almost a decade younger than him, managed to turn him into… well, Jenner. He’d do anything she’d ask him to do. He was an electric ride-on, the one they buy for children. And she was holding the remote.

No, this wasn’t the most fortunate comparison. Because an electric toy was not capable of feeling things. And he was. A lot. More than he ever thought possible and more than he wanted to.

The fear of being misapprehended stopped him from telling her that sometimes he hated what she was doing to him. Not her, he could never hate her. He hated this unexplainable power she had over him and wasn’t even fully aware of. It frightened him. That she clawed his composure back so easily. That her youth, enthusiasm and energy were like a tornado to the illusionary beach he used to inhabit in his head. The force of her personality wreaked havoc on the well-oiled cogs of the machine that was once his life.

It took all the strength he had to stay away, from the day he first saw her. No, that’s not right. From the first time he felt her. Ethan’s mind was definitely against him today, because the images materialised within seconds, before he even managed to fully accept the presence of the thought.

He was sitting in his office, wondering why the hell has he agreed to help Harper with reading pages of blabber from wannabe surgeons and doctors. They were all the same and if he got a cent for every time they got under his skin, he’d be a millionaire. But Harper was an old friend and his ex, he had a lot of respect for her. She’d just been promoted to the Chief of Medicine and although she was more than capable to do the job, he understood that transition from theatre to bureaucracy was scary and challenging for her. It was the least he could do to help and certainly a task way easier than being a shoulder to cry on.

Having gone through pages of “I wanna change the world and find a cure for cancer” he almost fell asleep on his desk. Not that there was something wrong with medical research or a quest for deeper meaning of one’s career - but what he read in those applications sounded like an extract from a beauty pageant. And, frankly, when he looked at some of the photos attached to applications, he couldn’t help but think beauty pageants were a better fit for some of these people than a hospital.

“Christ, are they giving away medical degrees for free these days?” He sighed loudly, sending another handful of pages onto the pile of would-be Grey’s as he called them, because he was more than certain that majority of these people derived their idea of work in hospital from the TV series Grey’s Anatomy. All Ethan knew was that he’s never seen anything more divorced from reality, having watched one episode after all the nurses kept chirping about Dr Derek Shepherd for a whole week.

Fully prepared for yet another disappointment, he turned the front page of next file. Looking at him was a young, beautiful woman with raven hair. Her gaze was daring and gentle at the same time. Even though it was just a photo, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she looked right through him.

Things only got better as he kept going through the next pages. Her application was a riveting read, it was honest, filled with passion and well written, all without being cliche. He saw the most incredible potential, but more importantly, he felt it. She made him feel things, even though he never met her. It was all just pouring from the pages. Ethan would always remember how excited and nervous it made him feel. He almost suffered from a head-on crash with gurney whilst running to Harper’s office, because he had to make sure that she gets the residency position in the hospital. His own feelings played no role here, she simply deserved this position and he knew Dr Emery won’t even question his judgement.

And then he met her.

To be honest, he completely forgot about the interns’ induction, he’s seen so many in his life already that he couldn’t care less. The new case Diagnostics Team took onboard was occupying him completely on that day.

Looking at it now, he couldn’t help but think of one of his favourite movies, Picnic at Hanging Rock. There was this line that he always felt drawn to, but could never fully understand:

“Everything begins and ends at exactly the right time and place“

He was walking down the long corridor, when he heard Danny, one of the nurses, screaming. A minute later Ethan was on his knees, next to a woman in her 50s. He figured out quite quickly what was happening to her, but if his diagnosis was correct, he was going to need some help. Having lifted his gaze, he looked for a familiar face. But there was no one around. That’s when he remembered about the stupid intern induction.

“Damn it, where are the doctors?!” - he asked out loud.

“I’m a doctor!” - responded an unfamiliar voice. Ethan turned around and saw a young woman with black hair in fresh scrubs. He never saw her before and figured she must be one of the new interns.

“You, Rookie. Come here!” - he literally wouldn’t mind if she was an actress playing a doctor, he needed an extra pair of hands. Right here, right now. She kneeled on the patient’s left side, her sight piercing him, waiting for instructions. That’s when it hit him.

It was her.

The fate didn’t spare her - Ethan knew as well as she did that having to deal with Hemothorax on your first day was a tricky business. But she was brilliant. A little nervous, yes, but brilliant.

All she needed was a push. That’s why he picked her to pieces, leaving her confused and probably upset. She will understand one day and she will be grateful.

He said what he had to say and then he just disappeared behind the corridor. He couldn’t be around her more than necessary. Because she made him feel. And this was the last thing he needed right now. Or ever.

What the hell?

Dr Ramsey shook his head and woke up from his daydream. He felt his loyal furry companion licking his hand with a pleading gaze. Suddenly, the weight of the thoughts crushed him like a tidal wave, the feeling so intense that his legs instantly turned into Jell-O, forcing him to sit down. That’s exactly what he was afraid of. The moment he’s had a minute, he immediately gave into thoughts. That’s what she was doing to him. Every part of him wanted to take an extra shift, but common sense and medical knowledge prevailed. He needed 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep, otherwise his body would give up soon, making him no use to anyone, especially not all the patients who desperately needed him.

But he was a fool to assume this was going to happen.

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

Tag list (please let me know if you wish to be removed, I tagged the accounts I follow and truly admire!): @terrm9 @openheart12 @openheartthot @rookie-ramsey @alwaysmychoices @brooks-eden @drethanramslay @starrystarrytrouble @justanotherrookie @caseyvalentineramsey @incorrectopenheart @heauxplesslydevoted @perriewinklenerdie

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #edenbrook #pixelberry #open heart choices #play choices #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart fanfiction #open heart fic #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week

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what-is-your-plan-today · 3 years

Text

Riding On

Ch 19- Everyone Loves A B-J…

Warnings: Bad Language words, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

Thanks to my wonderful gals @icanfeelastormbrewing and @southerngracela who let me bounce a few ideas off for this...

Chapter Song: I’m Yours- Jason Mraz

Series Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

Well, you done done me, and you bet I felt it, I tried to be chill, but you're so hot that I melted. I fell right through the cracks, now I'm trying to get back.

"Happy birthday baby." She whispered, nudging his nose with hers.

“You can say that again.” He choked as her grip tightened around him.

“It was a lot easier when he was right here.” Fliss pouted, her chin on Frank’s chest as she peeked up at him and Frank gave her a stern look.

“We’re not having that argument again, Liss.” He shook his head, “He’s 6 months old now. He can sleep in his own room.”

A thud on the bed jolted Frank from his thoughts and he looked down to see Thor had hopped up on the foot of the bed and he flopped down, his head on the peak that Frank’s feet were making.

“Mum thinks he’ll be crawling soon.” Fliss smiled as she lay back, watching the two of them “I mean he’s already sitting up and bum shuffling on the floor so…”

“He’s always so happy.” Fliss beamed at the baby who waggled his arms excitedly as Frank once more helped him stand up.

“I know.” Fliss smiled “I’m glad his eyes aren’t though.”

“Glad?” Frank turned to her. “How come?”

“Because they’re just like yours.”

"So not fair." She rolled her eyes "I wanna go."

“Tough.” Frank shot back “It’s my birthday not yours.”

“Well can we go for my birthday?” Mary asked.

“No.”

“That’s so mean Frank.” She whined.

“Go call someone who cares.” He looked at her. She narrowed her eyes and then held her hand out.

“Give me your phone then.” She demanded and Fliss laughed.

“Yeah? And who you gonna call?” Frank eyed her “Ghostbusters?”

Marry grinned “Nope. Poppa Bill. He’ll kick your ass.”

“Oh please!” Frank snorted “I’m not scared of Bill.” He shrugged “I could take him down.”

Mary pondered for a second before she looked at him, a positively wicked smirk crossing her face “Fine, I’ll call Uncle Steeby then. I know you’re scared of him.”

“No I’m not.” Frank scoffed and Mary snorted

“Whatever Frank, you’re only lying to yourself.” She said, standing up “Imma go get dressed. When we going for breakfast?”

“Soon as we’re ready.” Fliss smiled and Mary skipped out of the room, humming something to herself, Fred and Thor both following her as she went.

“You’re a liar.” Fliss looked at Frank.

“What?” he asked, picking Alex up and settling him on his knee.

“Saying you’re not scared of Steeby.”

“I’m not.” Frank shook his head, before his face rearranged into a little smile “I’m petrified of him.”

****

“Can we grill tonight?” she asked, her mouthful of food. Frank looked at her, where she was sat on the bench opposite him, next to Fliss. He shook his head “What?” she asked.

“Seriously, it’s breakfast time and you’re asking about what we’re eating tonight?”

Mary shrugged “You need to be more organised, Frank.”

Fliss gave a snort as Frank looked from Mary to her “Seriously, I’m 39 getting sassed by a soon to be 10 year old.”

“39…” Fliss sniggered and Frank nudged her under the table with his foot.

“So can we or not?” Mary demanded.

“Jeeez.” Frank rolled his eyes, picking up his coffee “It’s my birthday, don’t I get a say in what we do?”

“I’ve actually booked us a table somewhere.” Fliss spoke, cutting across the argument. “Thought it might be nice for us all to go out.”

“Where?” Mary turned to her.

“1200 Chophouse.”

Frank let out a groan of delight at the same time Mary punched the air “Seriously?”

Mary nodded “Am I on the 1pm class?”

Fliss shook her head “No, I told Joanne to take you off. I’ll teach you later once the class is done ok?”

Mary grinned “I like it best when we do that.”

“He’s a growing boy.” Frank shrugged.

“What’s your excuse?” Fliss teased and Frank swallowed the last of his breakfast and leaned back against the bench, arm resting along the back of it as he drank his coffee.

“I burn a lot of energy.” He said after little deliberation, shooting her a wink.

At just gone 5 Fliss and Mary came back through the door, Thor hot on their heels, Fliss face bright red and Mary’s streaked with tears.

“What…” Frank stood up and Fliss held her hand up, telling him to stop. He did as he was told, observing with a frown as Mary kicked off her boots and gave a sniff.

“Fliss, I didn’t…”

“I’ve nothing more to say on the issue.” Fliss cut her off.

“But…”

“No buts Mary.” Fliss shook her head “What you said was really mean and I won’t tolerate it ok?”

“Kay…” She sniffed again.

“I’m sorry…please, Fliss. I can’t miss the last show!”

“Ok, what’s going on?”

Frank arched an eyebrow “She said that?” Fliss nodded and he groaned “Jesus.”

“So you lost clients?” Frank folded his arms, shaking his head in frustration, “Because of Mary’s mouth?”

“Did Mary apologise?”

“No, absolutely not.” Frank shook his head “And besides, even if I thought it was harsh, which I don’t, I’d never undermine you anyway.”

Fliss nodded “Okay.”

“Honey, don’t think on it.” Frank cocked his head to one side, the look on Fliss’ face betraying the internal conflict she was feeling “You did the right thing.”

“Well, we all say things at times we don’t mean. I’ve told her that a few times myself.” Frank smiled, wrapping his arms around Fliss.

Fliss chuckled and pulled back, looking up at him, narrowing her eyes “You’re not wearing one of those shirts are you?”

“It’s my birthday.” Frank shrugged “Surely I can wear what I want?”

Fliss rolled her eyes “Whatever.”

“I thought you liked them?”

“They’re hideous”

“But endearing.” He dropped another kiss to her lips “At least that’s what you say.”

“He really likes that stuff you made him.” Frank smiled and looked down at his son as he gabbled away in his arms. “I’ll get him cleaned and dressed before I take a shower.”

“I got his outfit ready.” Fliss smiled “It’s on the changing mat.”

“Don’t you trust my fashion sense?” Frank teased and she grinned.

“Your fashion sense is exactly why I picked it.”

“Rude.”

“Trust me, when you see it…you’ll understand.” She smirked.

“Fliss bought it me last week in Target” she said quietly, wiping her eyes. “I liked it so she said I could have it as I’d done well with Monty”

“Well, you got good taste.” he smiled “Take after me.”

“You gonna shout at me as well?” she asked after a little pause and Frank inhaled deeply.

“No.” he shook his head, letting his breath out slowly “I think Fliss said everything that needed to be said. I’ve nothing more to add really.”

“Are you mad?”

“No, just disappointed Mary.” he said honestly “I thought I’d taught you better than that.”

Mary looked down, her shoulders slumped “I didn’t mean it. I was just angry. Sally makes me mad.”

“You make me mad sometimes but I don’t say nasty things.” Frank sighed, “Well, I hope I don’t.”

“Hey, look at me.” he said gently and she raised her eyes to his. “Did you mean it when you said sorry?”

Mary nodded “Yeah, I did. But her mom started calling me names and she was so mad at Fliss. Fliss told her to shut up in the end but then she told me off too.”

“I know.” Mary’s voice was quiet “Is she mad? Sally’s mom said they were leaving.”

It wasn’t quite a flat out lie, whilst he and Fliss could argue and stay pissed at each other for days, where Mary (and in the future no doubt Alex) was concerned it was a different story.

“Do you think she’ll let me go tomorrow?”

“Depends on how you behave tonight.” Frank shrugged, moving his legs as he made to stand “I honestly don’t know.”

Mary took a deep breath and Frank pushed himself to his feet with a slight groan as his knees clicked. Fuck this getting older shit.

“Will she dry my hair for me?” Mary looked at Frank.

“Lissy…” she said quietly “Please could you do my hair for me?”

“You’re momma thinks she’s so funny.” he snorted, dropping a kiss to Alex’s head as he lay him back on the mat. “And to be fair, as far as jokes go, that one’s pretty good.”

*****

“Ah, yes, Mrs Adler, the rest of your party are in the bar area. If you head through I’ll let your server know you’re all here and she’ll come show you to the table.”

“Thanks.” Fliss smiled, and the 4 of them headed to the left. Mary spotted Steve and the twins first and gave a little yell, running over towards them, Frank, Fliss and Alex following.

Fliss gave a shrug, grinning as she turned her head to look at him. “I just gave Adler as the name for the table, he just assumed.”

“Well, you will be soon enough.” He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

“Get a room!” Steve bellowed over the bar area and Fliss merely turned her head to look at him, raising her middle finger.

“Felicity Rose Gallagher!” Verity scalded “Stop being so uncouth. I brought you up better than that.”

Fliss rolled her eyes “Dad didn’t”

Bill scrunched his face up and shrugged “Touche Titch.” He chuckled as he reached out for Frank, grabbing his hand and pulling him into a manly hug “Happy birthday, Son.”

“Feels like it.” Sian mumbled “Mind you, not like their father is a small man is it?”

“Mum…” he wailed as Frank chuckled, moving to the bar after checking if anyone else needed a drink.

“This is on us tonight.” Bill pushed up next to him, waving his hand at the bar tender “Yeah, on the tab for table 20, thanks…”

“Bill, there’s no need.” Frank began the usual protest whenever either of his future in-laws insisted on paying but as normal Bill shook his head.

“I know but we want to.” He shrugged “I mean what’s the world coming to when I can’t treat my kids to dinner huh?”

Frank sighed a little and smiled “Thanks.”

“My pudding can sit next to me if she wants.” She pouted and Frank rolled his eyes before shooting Mary a look.

“First sign of any nonsense…”

“I know.” She cast her eyes down before she looked at him. “Please can I have my Tablet?”

Frank looked at Fliss and she nodded, reaching into the bag under the stroller for it and handing it over.

"I thought you said you were voting Trump?" Roberta’s voice was serious and Frank shook his head, taking a swig from his beer, as she gave him a cheeky grin.

"He’s an ass clown." Frank replied and Steve laughed.

“Suppose being a Democrat is part and parcel of coming from Mass, huh Frank?”

“What, like being Anti-Tory is part and parcel of being from Merseyside?” Frank shot back and Steve gave a grin, raising his glass in his direction.

“Correct!” Steve nodded enthusiastically.

“Damned Tories…” Bill shook his head. “Johnson doesn’t know his arse from his elbow.”

“You know, I seriously think you should be IQ tested before you're allowed to vote.” Fliss shrugged and Roberta leaned forward.

“Yeah but, how can you test what ain’t there?"

“You want me to sort him?” Frank lay a hand on her thigh and she shook her head, handing the baby a teething ring.

“No, I got it.” She smiled, “Besides he’s good now.”

Frank gave her knee a squeeze and then glanced across the table where Bill was looking at Mary.

“So, you all set for your last competition tomorrow?” he asked and Frank let out a little groan.

“I err…” Mary’s eyes fell down towards her food “I don’t know if I’m going.”

“Why not?” Verity asked.

Frank looked at Fliss, who had been about to open her mouth and gently shook his head. He wanted Mary to be the one to explain, she was the one that had misbehaved after all.

“Because I was naughty.” She shrugged “So Fliss and Frank said they don’t know if I can go.”

Verity and Bill looked at one another before they both glanced over the table at Frank and Fliss. Fliss raised her eyebrows a little as Frank reached for his drink.

“Oh, well, I’m sure you’ve learned your lesson.” Verity looked at Mary and she nodded again, her eyes still on her plate, brimming with tears.

“It all depends on tonight.” Frank spoke softly “Good behaviour over dinner and we’ll think about it.”

“Really?” Mary asked, looking up and he nodded.

“Really.”

“What did you do?” Charlie asked.

“Never you mind.” Sian cut him off, looking at him.

“It doesn’t matter what Mary did.” Fliss stated simply “It was dealt with and that’s that. No need to talk about it anymore.”

“But…”

“Charlie, stop.” Steve said sternly. Charlie narrowed his eyes at his dad and Steve pointed his fork at him “Carry on mate, see where that attitude gets you.”

“Think I’m having a food baby.” Fliss groaned besides him and he turned to her, raising his eyebrows.

“As long as it’s not a real one.”

She snorted into her lemonade, shaking her head “Oh no…”

“You not fancy another?” Sian, who had heard the exchanged asked and Fliss looked at her, hesitating a little.

“Not at the moment, no.”

“Well that’s a step up from the ‘Oh,Christ no’ you spluttered last time the subject was raised” Frank teased and she nudged him with her elbow as Steve sniggered.

“You can shut up as well!” Fliss glared at him

“Ah come on Titch, another baby in the family would be great.”

“Well you have another, if you want one so bad!”

“No, are you…really?” Verity’s hand fell to the hollow of her throat as Sian blushed a little, nodding.

“We found out last week.” Sian smiled, looking at Steve “We wanted to get you all together and…”

The table fell silent before there was a sudden flurry of excited voices and the scraping of chairs as everyone stood up to hug one another and offer congratulations.

“What’s going on?” Joel piped up and Steve smiled as he sat back down having just received a huge bro hug from Frank.

“We just told everyone about the baby.” He smiled and the twin’s faces fell into identical expressions of understanding.

“What baby?” Mary asked.

“The one Aunty Sian’s gonna have.” Frank looked at her.

“You having a baby?” Mary looked across the table.

“We sure are.” Steve beamed.

“That’s so cool!” Mary grinned.

“So, when are you due?” Fliss asked and Sian smiled.

“Middle of October.” She said “So I’m gonna be huge at your wedding.”

“Especially if its twins again.” Mary chipped in and Frank turned to look at her, before he bit his lip and glanced back up at Steve who’d paled a little.

“You know it is a possibility…” Roberta grinned “Happened to a friend o’ma sister’s. Two sets of twins.”

“Oh, just think Bill!” Verity beamed “Another two grandkids…”

“Mum, shut up!” Steve groaned as the table laughed.

“Roberta, you need a lift?” Fran asked but before she could answer Verity shook her head.

“She’s coming back to ours. We have a bottle of Rioja to crack open.”

Bill let out a dramatic sigh “Can I come sleep in your guest place-ow!” he yelled as Roberta reached up and slapped him round the back of the head.

With a snort Frank clipped Alex into the baby seat and after another goodbye to everyone they headed home arriving just before 10.

“Did you have a nice night?” Fliss asked Frank as they walked up towards the door and Frank nodded, dropping a kiss to her head.

“It was fantastic, the whole day has been great. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Shame your mom couldn’t make it.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” Fliss said as Frank unlocked the door. “It’s a short enough flight for Alex and it would be nice to go.”

Frank smiled as they all stepped inside and Thor came charging out of the kitchen to greet them all.

“Do I have to go to bed or can I watch TV?” Mary asked, looking up “It is Saturday…”

“I can go?” Mary’s head whipped to look at them both and Fliss nodded.

“Yes, you can go.”

“Oh my god thank you, thank you!” Mary shot over to hug her, her arms wrapping round Fliss’ waist “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“I know.” Fliss dropped a kiss to her head. “Now skoot, we’re gonna be up at 6.”

Mary hugged her again, then turned to Frank who swung her up with a groan “Stop growing will ya?”

“I’ll try!” she giggled, squishing his cheeks between her hands. “Love you dad.”

Dad.

“I love you too.” Frank cleared his throat, as he dropped Mary to the floor “Go on, I’ll come tuck you in in five.”

She skipped off up the stairs, Fred hot on her heels and as soon as her door shut Frank turned to Fliss.

“You ok?” she asked and he nodded, his eyes full of unshed tears as he sank down onto the arm of the couch. “How do you feel?”

“We just never talked about it.” He shrugged a little lamely and Fliss smiled.

“No.” Frank answered honestly as he shook his head, taking a deep breath, his lip quivering. “And that’s what shocked me the most. I always thought I’d hate it but…”

“But you didn’t?”

“No.”

“And are you gonna be okay if she keeps calling you dad?”

He nodded and Fliss gently bent down to kiss him softly, before pulling away “Then roll with it. Like Dad did with me. You know, if you wanted to you speak to him then I’m sure he’d-“

“And if she has?”

“Well then be honest. Tell her its okay.” She felt Frank nod and then she stepped back, her hands on his shoulders. “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay.” He stood up, wiping his face. He took a deep breath and glanced down at Fliss and smiled, “I love you.”

“Love you too.” She smiled “Now go on, I’ll check the doors and be up with you in a second.”

“Seriously?” Frank pointed them as they lay on the bedroom floor. “Wardrobe, not floordrobe Stack!”

“Oops.” Mary grimaced and Frank rolled his eyes, picking the items up, tossing them onto the bean bag under the bed.

“If they’re clean put them away, if not put them in your laundry hamper.” He instructed, leaning against the rails of her bed.

“Sorry, I’ll do it tomorrow.” Mary shuffled onto her side to look at him. “Did you have a good birthday?”

“What about Fliss?” Mary narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“She’s my best woman.” Frank answered easily. Mary looked at him before she smiled, accepting his explanation. “You excited about tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Mary nodded “And nervous.”

“Nothing to be nervous about.” Frank shook his head “Just go out there and enjoy it. You’ve done so well for a first season, Fliss was saying that earlier. We’re proud of you sweetheart.”

“Thanks.” She grinned “Hey, Frank?”

“Yeah?”

“You know what I said before...downstairs?”

Frank took a deep breath “I do.”

“Did it bother you?”

“Not one bit.” He smiled and Mary grinned.

“Good, because I think I’d like to say it more going forward.” She reached out, her fingers fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. “Unless you annoy me. And then you can be Frank again.”

Frank chuckled “Sounds like a deal, Stack”

“Okay, you can go now. I need to sleep.” Mary snuggled down into the covers and Frank smiled, pulling them up round her chin, dropping a kiss to her head.

“Night”

“Night.”

He turned to leave the room, throwing a last glance over his shoulder before he closed the door behind him.

***** “Mary, are you paying attention?” Fliss looked at her as she sat astride Monty, grinning ear to ear.

“Yeah, sorry.” She turned her head, “I’m just so happy!”

“Erm…” Mary spun in the saddle looking round “Yeah its two, six, nine, double back to twelve, across to five and then you send him quickly down the line to finish at eight.”

“Ok, yeah, got it.”

“Glad you did.” Frank mumbled, gently pushing Alex’s buggy to and fro as the baby dozed “’Coz that all sounded like a different language to me.”

“That’s because you don’t get it, Dad.” Mary turned to look at him.

“You’re right, I don’t.” Frank agreed

“Don’t look at me!”

“Oh, I’m lookin’ at you Cowgirl, because no one else I know uses the word faff.” He arched an eyebrow. “Well apart from your mom, dad, Steve and Sian…damned British slang!”

Fliss snorted “Ok, busted. But that’s not exactly what I said.”

“Well what was?” he dropped his voice a little and Fliss started to laugh.

“I just said to Jo when she commented she hadn’t seen you in a while that you were busy with the other woman in your life aka the boat.”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Hey, that engine was giving me trouble.”

“I’m sure it was.”

“Very selfish of you Miss Gallagher.”

“Well when it comes to you I don’t like sharing.”

Frank gave a chuckle and pressed a kiss to her cheek “No worries on that count, I’m all yours baby.”

“Why did she undercut that turn then?”

Fliss shook her head “If she’d have hugged tighter to the corner she might have made it but as it was she only got a two stride run up.” She bit her lip then frowned “Don’t you do that!”

“I wasn’t gonna!” Mary snorted, rolling her eyes.

“Good.” Fliss nodded “Like I said, you can make your time up between nine and twelve and then five and eight, if you need to.”

Frank groaned “Why couldn’t you pick a nice safe hobby…like swimming or something?”

Mary looked at him reproachfully “Frank, I could already swim.”

“Yeah but…”

“And Swimming can be dangerous, people drown.”

“Not if they’re supervised.”

“And besides, if I hadn’t wanted to go horse riding, you’d have never met Fliss.” Mary looked at him, fixing him with a maddening smug look because she knew that was the absolute ace card.

“Okay, you got me there.” Frank grumbled “Smart ass.”

“Hey…” Fliss beamed at her “That was really unlucky. He only just clipped it.”

“It rolled?” Mary grimaced and Fliss wrinkled her nose as they set off back to the wagon.

“Fraid so.”

“Bummer.” Mary shook her head.

“What?” Frank asked, utterly puzzled.

“It means that the pole simply rolled off, it wasn’t taken straight down with the knock.” Fliss explained “Believe me, It’s the most annoying thing in the world.”

“But it’s the same result.” Frank looked at them both and Mary groaned exasperatedly.

“Don’t talk about stuff you don’t understand!”

“That’s me told.” Frank scoffed as she jumped off Monty and proceeded to remove her hat.

“Can we go see who won?” She turned to Fliss who had just taken Monty’s saddle off.

“Sure, let’s get him loaded up and then we’ll go.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” Mary shrugged “Saffy won the class.”

“You know her?” Fliss frowned.

“Only from when we were waiting in line before.” Mary shrugged “She seemed nice. I wonder who’s won it overall.”

“We’ll check online later.” Fliss said, before she grinned “You know, I’d kinda like to know who won the Junior Rider class for the season. Any idea Frank?”

“Oh, some blonde kid with an attitude problem.” He shrugged as Mary looked up at him, her eyebrows arched, hands on her hips.

Fliss spluttered out a laugh as Frank blinked, looking at Mary then to Fliss. “I…wow.” was all he could bring himself to say.

The three of them politely applauded as the top six riders took a lap of honour before the winner took her own and as she emerged from the ring Mary let go of Frank’s hand and stepped forward.

“Thanks Mary!” the girl grinned “You were so unlucky with your last pole.”

“I did my best.” Mary shrugged “That’s what my mom and dad say matters the most.”

Frank felt Fliss stiffen a little besides him “Did she…”

“Yeah…”he whispered, dropping a kiss to her head.

Fliss took a shaky breath and hastily blinked back the tears as Mary turned back towards them “Hey, can I go get a drink with Saffy from their van? I’ll be like 10 minutes?”

“Erm…” Fliss wiped her face and looked at the woman next to Saffy who smiled and nodded.

“It’s fine.” She beamed “Fliss isn’t it? You run Sandybrook?”

“Yeah.” Fliss smiled.

“I’m Jenny, Saf’s mom. And we’re just parked right there.” The woman spoke “I wouldn’t mind a chat with you actually about a horse I have. He needs backing and you came recommended.”

“Sure, just…” Fliss looked at Frank and he gave a grin

“I’ll set off back with him.” he nodded to Alex who was fast asleep. “See you at home, take as long as you need.”

“You sure?”

“Thanks Dad.”

And right there, Frank knew there couldn’t possibly be ANY man in the world who felt the sheer contentment and love that he did.

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #gifted #gifted fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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a-libra-writes · 4 years

Text

Salt & Snow - Chapter 4

Ships: Ned Stark x Reader, Brandon Stark x Reader

Summary: All Lord Caspian’s daughter wants to do is write letters to Ned and enjoy her time with the Starks, although her days aren’t always going to be so carefree. Meanwhile Ned is up on the Eyrie, looking forward to her letters, even if he has to read about a frightening situation weeks after the fact.

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✨🐺Chapter 1🐺✨Chapter 2🐺✨Chapter 3🐺✨

She’d spent a good month or two avoiding it, but now there was no escape. Lyanna had cornered Y/N and all but dragged her to the stables. Lyanna was more amused than offended about her resistance. “You have to learn sometime, Y/N!”

“I already know how to ride!” Her friend protested. Lyanna had such a strong grip for a young lady. “And I can’t today, I’m wearing —”

“Your old dress that doesn’t fit well anymore, so today’s perfect, isn’t it?” Lyanna grinned, and Y/N realized she had been played. It was Lyanna who suggested she wear it today, because it was a pretty color in spite of how short it was becoming. Come to think of it, Lyanna had insisted on doing her hair too, and styled it in a practical way.

Y/N was defeated. She sulked as she waited for the stablemaster to saddle up their horses. Lyanna had a beautiful black palfrey that she’d had since before she could remember. Her name was simply “Rose”, and she was the most animated palfrey Y/N had ever met. Y/N had been with her own mount for three years, and she’d yet to truly master riding him. Horses were just so … big. And scary.

“Might I help you, milady?” The stablemaster asked her. Lyanna was already on Rose. Y/N accepted the man’s hand and he hoisted her up. She struggled to climb atop the horse on her own, so she was grateful for any help offered. At first it was Brandon or Lord Stark himself who assisted her, but she was getting older and the thought of their help was embarrassing now. She stroked her horse’s neck and took hold of the reins, trying to steady her hands. To keep her mind off the ride ahead, she thought of something more pleasant. It was easy to do that, because before Lyanna had kidnapped her, she was writing back to Ned.

They’d been corresponding for a year now, and Y/N made a point to respond as quickly as she could, since letters to and from the Vale were so slow. A letter to Dorne might be faster, she’d think with irritation, and sometimes in her impatience she sent two. Ned’s letters were amusing at first. He had simple handwriting that was perfectly serviceable, and if he was finished with what he had to say, he’d stop even if there was plenty of room on the paper. Y/N wasn’t one to write pages either, but it still tickled her. She filled in her own blank spaces with drawings.

She drew direwolves and manta rays, the godswood, Lyanna’s horse, little portraits of the wolf siblings. Sometimes she worried they weren’t any good, but it was a waste of paper to start again, so she made do. Charcoal smeared and paints made the letters hard to bend, so she used ink. If she was careful, she could make very pretty pictures.

There was a letter sitting at her desk now, but it couldn’t be sent until the ink tried. It certainly took a long time. Now she thought about the letter Ned sent before that, and it made her smile.

“Y/N!” Lyanna called her. “Your horse!”

“Sorry,” Y/N said quickly, gently pulling the reins to settle the beast. She just noticed how far they were from Winterfell. Had she been lost in her thoughts all that time? More importantly, her bronze palfry was shaking his head with annoyance. His ears twitched and Y/N had to pull on the reins again. She gently shooshed the horse and pet his neck, but something must have spooked him. Y/N sighed and brought him to a stop.

“There, there,” Lyanna rode up beside the palfry and took its reins. “Maybe he heard the hunting dogs. Brandon and father are around here somewhere, they spotted a big stag yesterday.”

Y/N thought it was a poor horse that got scared of some distant hunting dogs, but she was glad to stop so she could regain control. Its black mane shook and its ears flicked sharply. Lyanna waited until he was still to give the reins back.

Their fingers brushed for just a moment before a terrible squealing echoed from the other part of the forest. It was like a wounded animal, screaming with all its might. The next moment, the black palfrey took off, and it was Lyanna screaming as she was yanked from her saddle. She fell in the dirt and the horse raced off, kicking up dust in its scramble to get away.

Y/N’s gloved hands flew to its mane but she couldn’t get a good grip. Her whole body tightened and she held to the beast, her teeth clattering as it ran with all its strength. Her body rattled on top of the horse, trying desperately to hold on and not be thrown. It was impossible to see what was around her. She was so sure if she raised her head, she’d be thrown right off, so she clenched her eyes and prayed to the gods that something would stop it.

Nothing did. The palfrey turned sharply to avoid a rock and Y/N cried out as she grasped for anything: the mane, the neck, the reins that were hanging uselessly to the side. She could feel herself sliding off the saddle, but she held fast and desperately tried to straighten herself. Her face was wet with tears, but it was impossible to cry out. She ought to scream for help, but speaking would interfere with holding on for dear life.

The horse was leading her into a heavily forested area, and her heart seized with new panic. At this speed, it would hit a ditch or a tree, and she’d tossed around like a sack. Y/N almost wished she could just roll off, surely that was better than being thrown. She considered it, willing herself to open her eyes and look around.

Something caught her vision, a large shape that was getting close, and panic caught in her throat. She thought it was a huge tree, but trees didn’t move, then she worried it was some wild animal. Instead, something extended from the shape and reached for her. Y/N forced her eyes to open properly, trying to see through the tears, and she saw it was a hand.

The hand was trying to grab the reins, but it gave up, and pulled at her wrist instead. She heard a voice. “Y/N, take my hand! Let go!”

Her whole body was shaking, and it took all of her effort to unclasp her sweaty hand from the horse’s mane. Letting go in that instant shot terror through her, and she was ready to snap back to the mane, but the hand grabbed her wrist before she could. She couldn’t turn her head to look.

“Let go!” The voice yelled again.

Y/N sobbed as her other hand released the mane. Then she was tilting to the side, like the world itself was turning over. She couldn’t make sense of it, and the sensation of falling came to her. Her ankle grounded her: it was caught in a stirrup, and hot pain shot up from her foot to her leg. She thrashed it and it untangled.

Then her legs were jelly and dangling for only a second. She was pulled to another horse, one that was far slower.

Y/N blinked her tears away, staring out into the forest, where the palfrey disappeared. He was galloping so hard she was sure he’d fall and break a leg. Y/N lost sight of it, her own tears and shaking ruining her vision. An arm wrapped around her, and she was pressed against a comfortable fur cloak. Y/N’s arms instantly wrapped around the solid body, and her fingers dug in the cloak like they did the mane. Her stomach was rolling, but her chattering teeth would never allow her to lose her breakfast.

It occurred to her that it was Brandon who she was riding with. He may have been talking, but she couldn’t hear anything over her own heart. It sounded like a war drum. She rode with him for a time, and when his horse stopped, she finally pulled away from the cloak and looked around.

They were inside Winterfell’s gates, by the stables. Y/N couldn’t believe she didn’t notice them passing through the gates. Right away she found Lyanna, whose face and clothes were covered in dirt. Lyanna brushed away tears and ran to them. “Y/N, you’re alright! I was so afraid!”

“Did you call the maester?” Brandon asked his sister with some impatience. Y/N was so occupied with her own fear, she hadn’t realized his heart was beating like a drum, too. She could hear it even through the leather and wool he wore. Lyanna shook her head, and he sighed and ordered a stableboy to find him.

Brandon was about to dismount, but Y/N almost faltered and fell when he did. He set his warm hands on her shoulders. “Hold onto the saddle horn. I’ll help you.”

It was the gentlest she ever heard him, even if his voice sounded strange, like he was upset. Y/N held onto the saddle like he said, the tremble coming back to her as he easily dismounted. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her waist and hoisting her up as though she weighed nothing. If it strained him, he didn’t show it, playing the gallant lord very well. Y/N was too dizzy to appreciate it.

When he set her down, she instantly winced and held onto him. Brandon asked, “Your leg?”

“My ankle, I think,” Y/N lifted her skirt to look, but she couldn’t tell anything with her riding boots on. Lyanna was instantly, holding her so tight it hurt.

“I’m so, so sorry, Y/N, it’s my fault, I should’ve had a better grip, or calmed the horse better,” Lyanna babbled. The tears were coming back to her.

“Y-you couldn’t help it.” The embrace was a relief. Y/N easily held her back to calm her shakes. “And if you held tighter, it would have dragged you. That would’ve been terrible.”

“Any more terrible than being in your position?” Brandon said. “I’m glad I was there. The horse would’ve thrown you at the treeline — Lyanna, let her breathe, would you?”

Y/N had a feeling he was right. She wanted to disentangle herself from Lyanna, to thank Brandon, to get off her aching leg and go lie down - all she wanted to do this morning was send a letter. She felt sick. Maester Walys into their sight, his chains swaying and clinking from his brisk pace.

“Lady Y/N!” He said. “Are you well, child?”

“My leg hurts.” It was all she could say. Her ribs and hands were aching, too, and her jaw felt awful from all the clenching and teeth chattering. Brandon scolded his sister again, and she reluctantly let go so Y/N could lean on him.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” Brandon said. His dark grey eyes were worried, another thing she hadn’t seen before. As much as she liked Lyanna’s affection, it was too much right now. Brandon’s uncharacteristic steadiness was more comforting right now.

“Let us hope not. Can you help her walk, my lord?” The maester asked.

Y/N wasn’t expecting to be lifted in his arms. She seemed to be getting moved around all over today, and not when she wanted. Still, it lifted the pressure from her leg, and instantly her whole body relaxed. All her energy was gone. If he put her down now, she wasn’t sure she could move, bad leg or no.

“Tell your mother what transpired, my lady, and I’ll tend to Y/N.” Maester Walys said to Lyanna. She hesitated, clearly not wanting to leave Y/N’s side, so she broke into a run to deliver the message faster. As usual, she’d be coming to her mother while covered in head to toe with dirt.

Ned glanced at the large doors of the feast hall for the third time. Lord Arryn hadn’t noticed, too absorbed several ledgers he had laid out on the table. Often while he arranged taxes and business, he’d have the boys take supper with him. It warmed the old man’s heart to listen to them chatter, even better when he had a rare guest to join them. It was often just a knight or minor lord, but Ned and Robert spoke well, and he was proud of them.

Usually it was Robert doing the talking, as he was now, and Ned would give his input now and again. He was too distracted to do so tonight, it was around this time that he’d expect a letter from Y/N. He hadn’t thought the mail would be so slow to and from the Eyrie; even ravens disliked flying up so high. Mail had to come up the mountain on a meandering goat or in a turnip basket, and the quiet, steady young man was finally experiencing some impatience in his life. Usually he preferred the letter to come when he was in his room so Robert couldn’t see, but it had been more than two weeks late, and at this point he didn’t care if Robert read it first. He wanted to hear from Y/N.

Robert caught his attention and made Ned listen as he told a randy joke to the visiting knight. The knight laughed so hard he almost coughed up his ale, and Ned smiled, but distractedly. Robert hadn’t noticed. He had another joke, but Ned noticed the door slowly open and a servant calmly walked in. All his attention was gone.

The servant went to Lord Arryn first, giving him a small bundle of mail. Ned’s heart raced. Then he went to the maester, who was often quiet during these dinners, and the maester stayed quiet as he received a letter with a nod. The Stark boy was almost squirming in his seat when the servant came to him, and handed him a letter covered in a protective brown paper, tied with a rough string. That was the only way it could make it from Winterfell to the Eyrie in one piece, and there was still some water damage on the corners.

“Something from your girl?” Robert whispered, never as quiet as he thought he was. Ned usually dismissed him but he couldn’t help from smiling. He opened it carefully, and Robert was excited too, if only to snoop since Ned always kept to himself with these things. “Well? Confessed her love yet?”

Ned sighed. “She’s thirteen, and Lyanna’s companion, besides.”

“What do either of those have to do with anything?” Robert asked incredulously, and Ned ignored him as he unfolded the letter. Right away he noticed it was different from her usual ones - she usually wrote so neatly, like she planned exactly what to say and fit it on the paper perfectly. With that handwriting and her pictures, it was like the whole letter was a piece of art, and he wanted to handle it carefully. This one was different, though. She had hastily added something to the back of it.

Ned should’ve started at the beginning, but he had to know what this addition was. He skimmed it quickly, and his heart instantly raced in his chest. Robert was trying to get a better view. He elbowed Ned’s side. “What’s the matter?”

Lord Arryn watched them carefully. He was worried about the expression on Ned’s face. The knew the boy took great joy in letters from home, though he never asked who they were from. It wasn’t his way to pry into his ward’s lives that much, but Ned’s grey eyes were racing across the page.

Finally, the Stark boy sighed and deflated a little in his seat.

“What in the seven hells is it?” Robert asked impatiently. Rather than scold Robert for his indelicate speech, Lord Arryn asked, “Is it very bad news, Eddard?”

“No, not anymore, I don’t think,” Ned shook his head, his dark hair was getting longer. He didn’t want to cut it like the Southern lords did. “Lady Y/N had an incident with her horse, but she’s alright. She only sprained an ankle.”

When he read the words “accident” and “horse”, Ned assumed the worst, even if she was the one who had written it. Both men and women falling from horses and meeting terrible injuries or deaths was the whole reason his lord father was worried about Lyanna riding as much as she did. He felt sick at the thought of Y/N falling from her saddle - not that she did, the horse took off in a mad run, but if Brandon hadn’t been there, she wouldn’t have stayed on much longer.

“Thank the Maiden she’s well,” Lord Arryn said. “It’s a dangerous thing for ladies, young ones in particular, to ride. Their constitutions can’t handle it. I hope she learns from this.”

Robert looked at the letter again. “I’m glad she’s safe too, Ned,” He said, a rare moment of solemnity for him. “I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

Robert hadn’t even met Y/N, but her letters and pictures made Ned happy, and that was all he needed to know. Robert pictured her as a modest little thing who had a silly crush. Why Ned preferred some distant girl over the women they saw every day, he didn’t know, but he liked his friend’s odd peculiarities. Several times he asked Ned to describe her, but it was always vague things, like how she smiled or how sweet she was. Robert’s imagination couldn’t do anything with that.

Ned waited until the end of dinner to read the rest of it, wanting the privacy. Robert would stay up training with the knights, squirreling his way into a serving girl’s bed, or both. Before he left to do either, he walked Ned to his room, wanting to talk a little more. Ned was only half-listening.

Suddenly, Robert said, “I don’t think you would have let it happen.”

Ned was confused. “What do you mean?”

“The horse. If you were there, it never would have had a chance to run off,” Robert was already a little drunk, so he leaned on the cool wall, trying to make his words clearer and his head cooler. “You would’ve been right at her side, and controlled that damn thing. Brandon wouldn’t have needed to be around.”

It was a strange thing to say, Ned thought, but Robert often said strange things when he was full of ale. He just nodded. “Eat something if you’re going to fight, and get the ale stink off before you see Daisy.”

Robert laughed, his loud voice echoing off the halls. He gave Ned rough pat on the back and staggered off.

In his room, Ned dressed down and got comfortable by the hearth. It wasn’t as cold as Winterfell here, but it was close. The howling wind hitting his windows was something else entirely, though. He was pleased to have the letter for a distraction. Reading through it was more warming than the fire, and he admired the way the dried ink gleamed against the light. This time she drew the kitchen cat she’d been feeding, and the kittens it recently had. One of the kittens was drawn a little misshapen, and Y/N went ahead and gave it a silly expression, which made him smile.

He flipped the letter over, looking at her messy paragraph and thinking about how lucky Y/N was. He read it again, still feeling discomfort even if it must’ve happened weeks ago. His eyes stopped on “…but Brandon pulled me from the saddle. Once the ordeal was over, the maester…”

Thank the gods Brandon was there, although he wondered why his proud brother was riding with the girls. Robert’s voice echoed in his head. If you were there…

Ned wasn’t one to fancy imaginary scenarios, nor did he overestimate his abilities. He never pictured himself as a brave hero in the songs, as Robert did. Still, he wondered what if he were there. The thought of Y/N holding onto a panicked horse was not a pleasant one. He imagined pulling the reins or catching her as she fell. He didn’t think he was strong enough to outright pull her from it, not like Brandon was.

Catching her seemed safer, since she twisted her ankle when Brandon pulled her. Ned wasn’t sure why he’d be there at the foot of the horse when she fell, but in his sleepy imagination, it made sense. The room was cozy and warm, like back at Winterfell when they first thought up the plan to write letters. The fire was a relief after the chill he had, looking for the pearl. It still pleased him that he found it, if he hadn’t, Y/N may have never asked to write.

The sound of paper softly touching the floor went unnoticed. Ned adjusted himself in the chair and his mind wandered further. You would’ve been right at her side, a distant voice said. Catching Y/N turned into carrying her, both through the woods and then the yard of Winterfell, and then he wasn’t carrying her anymore. They were just sitting side by side, looking at drawings by the fire.

Y/N enjoyed recovering from her ankle, simply because she got to stay inside and read and painted as she pleased. Lyanna was restless after a few hours of sitting, and she’d eventually run out to play outside. Lady Stark had refused to let her to ride her horse until who knows when, and her best friend was laid up, so it had been an exhausting few weeks for anyone trying to keep up with her, Benjen included.

As much as Y/N liked the rest, she was more than happy to be healed by the next feast, where she saw her parents, Willam and little Rickard. He was a temperamental toddler now, but that didn’t bother her parents as they happily hugged and kissed their only daughter. Even Willam was willing to give her a big hug in front of the other boys.

“Where’s Uncle Cole?” She asked, although she felt she knew the answer. Her father confirmed it.

“That storm hit the coast hard. Our ships were scattered, and Lord Manderly’s didn’t fare better. Your uncle is helping oversee the mess, but that’s not business you should worry about. How is your ankle, sweetling?” He patted her on the head, and while Y/N normally welcomed the gesture, it bothered her this time. She wanted to know all about the business of their ships, their family depended on it.

Her mother began fussing with her hair and clothes, ruining any chance of Y/N trying to ask more. “Are you well, dear? How is that ankle? Should you be going to the feast? You can stay seated, you shouldn’t dance tonight. You shouldn’t go near a horse again, either.”

“Yes, mother,” Y/N said, knowing neither parent was really listening. They were already guiding her toward the feast hall, her father calling to Lord Stark and her mother shushing baby Rickard. The feast hall was loud and bright as it always was during celebrations, and Y/N resolved to enjoy it, even if she was absently thinking of her uncle, the ships, and Ned. Often she thought of Ned. While recovering, she wasn’t doing anything worth writing about, so she drew him several landscapes she saw from her window, and one from memory: the beach that was closest to her family’s keep. She felt that one was the best.

It was too soon to hope for a reply, but Y/N wanted one. It would have been so nice for Ned to be here, but she had to stop the wishful thinking. Y/N didn’t fully understand it, but it felt like something she had to stop before it got too far. She touched her hair, making sure her pearl was secure, and took in the room. She wiggled her way into Lyanna’s circle, seeing the Ryswell girls once again. They looked more or less the same, except Barbrey was even taller, making it easier for Bethany to hide behind her.

Lyanna was talking at Barbrey, Y/N observed, as the older girl was distracted. She kept looking toward the dais, where the Starks were meant to sit. When she noticed Y/N, she snapped her eyes back to attention. “Well, Lady Y/N. Come to join our gossip? We’re as bad as spinsters tonight.”

“Only because you make it so interesting,” Lyanna said. That had to be true, because Lyanna had little tolerance for idle gossip. Y/N was curious about what they were talking about. She smiled at Bethany in greeting, and the girl shlyly nodded her head back. She inched out from behind Barbrey a little.

“You’ve heard about the strange circumstances surrounding the late Lord Bolton, haven’t you?” Barbrey said to Y/N. The girl thought of it. She heard he had passed, though she never met the man personally, nor did her father mention him much.

At the same time she realized it, she said, “That means Roose Bolton is the lord now. Isn’t he young?”

“There are younger lords,” Barbrey said, “But nevermind that. It’s a strange set of circumstances, and on another point, now he’ll be in want of a wife. The late lord Bolton had no brothers, nor does Roose have brothers, so I expect he’ll be looking at this feast.”

Lyanna didn’t care at all for this marital talk. She was excited at the thought of a mystery, and tried to steer the conversation that way. “What do you mean, strange? They said the late lord died in his sleep.”

“Many things are said about Roose Bolton and his father, you know,” Barbrey’s dark eyes twinkled with mischief, and Y/N wondered if she was just telling them stories. She didn’t like assuming unkind things about someone, even if it was the Boltons. She was hoping she could say something to Bethany, recalling their last conversation, but the girl widened her pretty eyes as she added, “Our father told us many terrible things happen at the Dreadfort.”

“What things? You ought to tell me,” Lyanna urged and stepped closer, now fully interested again, but Bethany said no more. Y/N was losing her patience, because Barbrey had again turned her attention to the dais - and for what?

Y/N followed her eyes to the dais, trying to see what was interesting. It was only Lord Stark, her father and Brandon up there, and her father smiled once he noticed. Y/N smiled back, not noticing that Brandon was also looking. Suddenly, Barbrey said, “We should talk more, Lyanna. We’ll be staying for several days.”

This surprised Y/N, and she noticed that she was left out of that comment. Lyanna hadn’t noticed. “My mother said I won’t ride anymore, but I know I can convince her. You’ll have to tell me what sort of horses your herd has now.”

“You’ll learn shortly,” Was all Barbrey said, glancing toward the dais again. Why didn’t Y/N like that look? She chalked up her feeling to jealousy, because truthfully, it was a little annoying how Lyanna could be single-minded. First the Boltons, now horses. It was the only reason she was talking to the Ryswells, and Y/N would rather have her friend to herself.

“I’m going to look for my mother,” Y/N said suddenly, moreso to Lyanna than the Ryswells. It was a decent excuse. Before she could leave, Barbrey’s sharp eyes met her’s.

“Careful where you wander off, sweetling,” She said, her tone notably insolent. Again, Y/N didn’t know why, and that bothered her more. Barbrey Ryswell was an older girl, so maybe she was simply teasing for no reason. She could be enjoying the superiority of age because she didn’t have it in rank, even though Lyanna was too honorable to hold her station above the daughters of her father’s bannermen.

Now that Y/N was up and about, seeing her family felt like a good idea. They’d only be staying for a fortnight, maybe a little more, and little Rickard had grown so much. Her father was still up on the dais, but the rest were scattered, so she went looking. She spotted Willam across the great hall, up to possible mischief with Benjen and the Umber boys. She was so focused on watching him that she hadn’t noticed who she ran into. It was a man, and while she was too small to budge him, it was still rude.

“Apologies, my lord,” Y/N said quickly, giving him a bow. Her embarrassment made her look down, so she didn’t see his face right away. “I was not watching where I was…”

She balked. Two very cold, almost colorless eyes were looking at her.

“Lady Y/N.” The new Lord Bolton said. He spoke so quietly, she almost didn’t hear her name on his lips.

Her first thought was to offer a courtesy, specifically condolences about the passing of his father, but a combination of Barbrey’s words about strange circumstances and Roose’s chilling presence stopped that thought dead in its tracks. He looked like a man now, and though he already had some years before, now he was a lord. She had to mind herself, even if all she wanted to do was scurry away.

“You’ll forgive me again, my lord,” She said. “A feast can take one’s mind away. Are you finding it to your liking?”

Y/N recited the words well, she knew, her mother would be proud, yet it was the wrong thing to say. Lord Bolton’s face seemed impassive, but his eyes looked different. She felt smaller, and she already had to look up at him. His silence was irksome. Just like Barbrey, he was doing it on purpose because she was younger.

She willed herself to keep her eyes on his, unnerving as they were. She didn’t want to give him any more courtesies or her presence, lord or no. There was a ghost of a smile on Lord Bolton’s lips, and he said, “I see you’ve minded your lessons, Lady Y/N. You’ve learned to speak.”

She could feel her ears burning and her face heat up. She was ready to fiercely retort, but music and dancing had started up. If Lord Bolton was going to attempt a dance, she had an excuse ready. “I hope your evening remains well, my lord,” She said, trying to keep her politeness in her tone. Her eyes were already darting for an exit.

The lord wouldn’t let her squirrel away so easily. Being much taller, Lord Bolton was able to step closer so Y/N couldn’t leave without pushing apart several dancing pairs. They were noticeably the only ones standing still. Y/N froze, but it was already happening. He was taking her hands and leading her into a dance. She could have stayed still in an attempt to discourage him, but the couples swaying around them were close to pushing them around. She’d rather not be pressed against the man, so she danced, but kept a more than modest space between them. Roose didn’t give any indication that he cared about her coldness.

“It’s surprising to see you still in Winterfell,” He said. She almost missed his words from how quiet they were.

“I’m Lady Lyanna’s companion,” Y/N said, not understanding his comment. “I suppose I will leave when I’m to marry, or when she is.”

He didn’t respond right away. They followed the music, albeit slower than some of the other dancers, who were full of ale and cheer and spinning each other around. Y/N was wishing she was dancing with jolly Lord Manderly, or with one of his round sons — even Lord Karstark and his iron grip would be better.

“Do you think that’s the only reason you’re here? To be a wolf girl’s playmate?”

“Lyanna is my closest friend,” Y/N said, and she knew she spoke wrong. She hated that almost smile that crossed his lips.

“That’s not why you were sent to Winterfell, Lady Y/N, but I do understand your confusion. You must be unhappy that Brandon will be sent to the Rills.”

Y/N almost tripped over his feet. She didn’t care that she was being pulled into the pale eyes and poison words. “What? No, he is not. Brandon is Winterfell’s heir, he —”

“—Should marry soon, and rather than consider the pearl at home, they send him around the North to choose who he pleases.”

“That isn’t … ” Y/N started, but her mind was reeling. Brandon was being sent away as well? Around the North — perhaps he was just traveling? Lyanna would hate to see another brother go. Yes, he was the heir, and there was no way he was being sent away to foster, he was too old… and still too young to marry.

Lord Bolton was speaking in riddles, probably just to agitate her. Y/N couldn’t step away fast enough when the music stopped. Before he could speak another ridiculous word, she said, “I’m feeling most tired, Lord Bolton. I hope your evening is pleasant.”

He ignored her. “You would make a fine bride, Lady Y/N.”

Y/N tried to pretend she didn’t hear. The word bride sent a shiver down her spine, and instead of Roose’s frightening eyes, she saw Bethany’s sly smile in her mind. It’s a strange set of circumstances … now he’ll be in want of a wife.

I only flowered three months ago. Can it happen so soon? Y/N thought in despair. Her parents wouldn’t make an arrangement without telling her, she knew they wouldn’t, but it was well within their rights. If Brandon was already sent looking, it was only a matter of time before she and Lyanna would be put on the market, even if Lyanna hadn’t had her moonblood. Y/N felt her stomach churn, and she stepped inside one of the cold hallways to catch her breath.

Lord Bolton was young, but he was still a man, and she remembered his hands on her’s. She wiped them on her dress. She hated thinking of dancing with even older men, having to stay close and smile while they tried to be charming and funny while stinking of drink. Northern men weren’t always like her father and uncle and Lord Stark, they were mostly rough and rude.

She sunk down and sat on the floor. The feast was too loud, but if it all quieted she’d be left alone with her ringing thoughts. She wanted to talk to Lyanna, to get her opinion, but her friend was more often than not thinking of horses and playing and running. She couldn’t trouble Lady Stark, and her own mother may tell her she was being silly for being upset about a fate that was inevitable.

Ned. Y/N was surprised how quickly the name came to her. She could write to him. He wouldn’t call her silly or brush off her anxiety. He always wrote back kind things, even if she worried she was boring him. Y/N touched her hair nervously, running her hands down the braid until she touched the pearl. Her most prized possession, and he trudged through goodness knows what to retrieve it.

This would be yet another party she was making an excuse to leave, but Y/N didn’t care. She retreated to her room, not bothering to change into cozier clothes as she sat at her writing desk. There was a problem of where to start, and after thinking on it, Y/N decided to not bother with all the gossip and strange conversations. She’d just express what she was feeling.

Dear Ned,

I avoided another feast. I know I told you to enjoy the tourneys and galas in the Eyrie, but I had to go to my room and hide again … I hope you won’t think poorly of me, but …

“I never could,” Ned muttered, reading the line again. The sounds of swords echoed off the tall walls of the Eyrie’s training yard, but they were far in his mind. He glanced at the training and again, but for the most part, he was occupied. He didn’t even wait to go to his room.

Ned hadn’t finished reading, but he was frowning, feeling for Y/N’s troubles even if they were weeks and thousands of miles away. He hated the gnawing that was growing in his stomach as he read. It spread to his throat, chewing irritably when she mentioned Brandon. It wasn’t much, but it was there — she was gloomy he was going to begin traveling around the North. Ned tried to tuck that feeling away and kept reading.

He was interrupted by the sight of Lord Arryn hurrying toward him. Ned sat up straight at once and folded the letter neatly, tidying it away in his tunic. Lord Arryn wasn’t looking at him, however — in fact, his drawn face was trying to look away. He didn’t seem well.

“Lord Arryn, what’s happened?” Ned asked. The older man placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it with a strength Ned didn’t know he had.

Lord Arryn struggled to respond, opening his mouth, then quickly closing it. Ned had never seen the man at such a loss. Finally, he said, “I need to speak with you. Something terrible has happened at Storm’s End.”

Ned’s heart instantly squeezed in his chest, so hard he felt the breath leave him entirely. “Robert is —?”

“He will need us in the coming weeks,” Lord Arryn said. Ned tried to take another breath, but relief wasn’t coming. He didn’t understand. Robert had left to see his parents return from Essos, and to see his brothers. He tried to ask for details, but Lord Arryn simply shook his head and sighed so deeply, he looked like he might collapse.

Ned touched his tunic where the letter was hidden. His breathing was still off, but he kept his expression stony as he followed Lord Arryn into a gloomy Great Hall. In the coming week he’d keep it there, anxiously touching his chest as the gloom deepened in the Eyrie. He did his best to answer Y/N, and to be there for her, because soon he’d have to be there for Robert.

#ned stark x reader #game of thrones x reader #ned stark #salt & snow #libra fics

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mstrumpeter · 3 years

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And When He Smiles I Swear I Can’t Breathe

Alan Rubin x fem!Reader

Word count: 1,996

Fandom: Blues Brothers

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Blues Brothers characters or movies. This refers to Alan Rubin as a character in the movie, not the real Alan (although he obvsly played himself but you know what I mean)

I’d like to add that I made everyone of the band a few years younger (so the age gap between the reader and Alan isn’t that big), so he’s approx. in his early 30s.

Sophia & Lisa are two OCs created by two lovely people within the fandom.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, COs having some kind of breakdown

So the next two chapters are gonna be somewhat of a bumpy ride for Charlotte. Just please stay and bear with me until the end of chapter 4, when the magic starts happening. Xx

Chapter III

The next morning Charlotte was having breakfast with her family. “I didn’t hear you coming home last night.” Her dad gave her a harsh look. “Well, yes it got pretty late. I fell asleep during the last movie and the girls felt so sorry for me they didn’t wanna wake me up!” She laughed, trying to lighten up the mood but her father just starred at her emotionless. “I’m sorry, dad. I promise it won’t happen again.”, she added in a apologising tone, which seemed to soothe him. “What films did you watch?”, her sister asked curiously. Charlotte looked at her with big eyes. What the hell? She knew her sister asked that without any ulterior motive, it was just her way but still… “You know, those classic ones. Halloween and some romcom in the end to lift everyone’s spirits.”

“Was it worth watching?” Oh for crying out loud! Thankfully the phone starting ringing, Charlotte’s mother picked it up. “Hello, Sylvia Ellington speaking.... Hun, it’s for you, it’s Lisa!” The girl quickly jumped to her feet. “May I take it in my room, please?” Her mother looked at her husband and gave her daughter a quick nod. In her room Charlotte took the phone to sit on her bed. “Lisa?” “Hiya!” “How was your evening with Lou? Did you…?” “Naah, we didn’t. But it was lovely seeing him again, I missed him so much. He’s just so shy sometimes. I mean I love that about him, I just wish he’d take the initiative more often.” “I’m sure he will eventually. It was your third date after all. Take it as a compliment that he ain’t rushing things and wants you both to be ready.” “I hope you’re right. Sooo…? You and Alan? I saw you two leave…?” “Yeah, yeah stop it right there. He took me home like a gentleman.” “BORING! Nah, I’m just kidding.” Charlotte sighed. “You know, I like him but I don’t know anything about him. Is he single or seeing anyone? Perhaps he was just trying to be friendly, taking the opportunity for a nice drink. No more, no less.” “Just ask him out on a date, pretty sure his reaction will tell.” “And what if he’s interested in a casual hook-up only? I don’t wanna make a fool out of myself.” “I’m afraid you won’t know if you don’t try.” “Hmm.. But I know someone who DOES know! Lou! I’m sure he knows what’s going on in Alan’s life, you always told me there were close.” “Yeah but.. I don’t know. It would feel strange asking Lou about Alan for you.” Both girls were silent for a moment. “Wait, I’ve got an idea.” Lisa said excitedly. “I’m meeting Lou in his lunch break at the cafe tomorrow noon. You could accidentally bump into us and join us.” Charlotte giggled. “Sounds perfect. I see you then!”

The next day Lisa opened the door to the small Soul Food Café on Maxwell Street and greeted the waitress with a warm smile. “Hi Mrs. Murphy!” “Hello sugar, nice to see you again.” Lisa sticked her head in the kitchen. “Hey Lou!” He looked up from the dishes and his face lighted up the moment he saw his girl. “Give me a minute, babe. Right with you.” Lisa smiled and chose a table at the window. She ordered Lou’s and her favourite dish and watched him as he left the kitchen. He quickly pulled off his hair net and gave her a kiss before sitting down. “Food’s already on it’s way.” He grabbed her hand and caressed it with his thumb. “I’m so happy to be back after our tour. I love performing with the boys but I felt sorry for leaving you so early in our relationship.” He softly brushed a strain out of her face when he got interrupted by someone banging against the window. Charlotte. She quickly walked inside. “Oh my God what are you two doing here?” “Well for starters, I work here.” “Would you like to join us, Charlie?” “Sure, why not, thanks. How are you two doing?” “Good thanks, we were about to have lunch.” The tall, handsome man said. The girls gave each other a look, without saying a word. Lou’s eyes wandered from one girl to the other and back again. “You two are terrible actors, you know that.” And he started to laugh. “Why are you here, Charlotte?” “I’m sorry, Lou. It’s because of Alan. I had a lovely time with him the other night and was wondering, is he dating anyone recently?” “Hard to tell, really. I mean with us touring in the last couple of months, it was difficult for all of us to meet anyone at all. I know that he used to see a woman named Lari. They also met a few times when we where on tour. Think she owns her own business, forcing her to travel quite a lot through the states.” “Are they… dating? I mean is it anything serious?” “I don’t even know if they still see each other.” “So nothing serious?” Charlotte kept pestering him. Lou sighed. “Listen, Alan’s one of my best mates but you should know that he’s quite popular with the ladies. Even I can see how good looking he is. Every concert he had some other woman showing up for him backstage and I can’t remember the last time he was in a serious commitment.” He could see the disappointment and sadness in Charlotte’s face and felt sorry for her. “But you’ll never know. Perhaps when the right one crosses his way.” “I heard you, Lou. but thanks for the effort to cheer me up.” She quickly got up from her seat “Really sorry for spoiling your little date.” And with that she left the cafe, Lisa running after her. “Charlie wait, please!” She finally had caught up with her. “I’m sorry Lou didn’t tell you what you’ve wanted to hear.” “It doesn’t matter okay? I don’t even know why I got my hopes up in the first place, we had a drink, that’s all.” Lisa looked at her friend with compassion in her eyes, grabbing on of Charlotte’s hands. “I guess, Alan’s been the first one who showed any interest in me for quite some time and it felt nice.” She looked down at her hands, fiddling around. “Honey I’m sure someone will come along eventually.” “Right, and as soon as the meet my dad they’ll keep running away.” “Don’t you think it’s time to move out? Sophia got her own place, too.” “I already told you, I can’t. It’s complicated. I don’t expect you to understand.” She freed herself from Lisa hand and started walking down the street. “Charlotte!” But she started to walk faster until she ran, disappearing in the crowd on the streets. Lisa went back inside the cafe and sat next to Lou, who softly put his arm around his girl. “I’m sorry for what I’ve said, I didn’t think she’d take it so hard.” She gave him a quick snog on his cheek, reassuring him that her friend would be okay, though she couldn’t stop thinking about her and how hurt she was.

Charlotte got home around dinner time and found her mother in the kitchen preparing food. “Mum?” She leaned against the worktop, resting on her elbows. “I’m thinking about moving out.” Her mother dropped the knife and looked at her concerned. “This again? Don’t let your father hear about your ideas.” “What ideas?” The two women were startled and turned their back to face Charlotte’s father, who had gotten back from work. “I still wanna get my own place, dad!” “I thought we’ve talked about this way too often, Charlotte.” “But I’m old enough, I could get a job and pay for the rent of a little room myself.” She watched him pouring a glass of whiskey and taking a sip. “Dad?!” He crashed the glass down onto the table. “This still ins’t open for discussion! As long as I’m paying for your education, you stay where I can keep an eye on you!” He said angry. “No one’s asking you to pay.”, Charlotte mumbled away and was about to leave the room. “What did you just say?” “Nothing!… Right so perhaps I don’t wanna study law.” “Don’t you forget that your mother and I had to go through a lot of trouble to get you that college place, considering your poor grades.” He walked towards her with big steps, shaking his finger at her. “Well, would have been nice if you had asked me before.” “Do you even listen to what you’re saying?! Have we left our manners at the door once more?” He was furious and discounted his glass from the kitchen table in one motion. Charlotte hated seeing him like this and it was one of those moments when she had to decide whether to retreat, displaying her fear of him or stand her ground, and for the first time ever she decided for the letter. When her father got closer, she could feel her knees began to buckle, she was trembling. Suddenly he grabbed her throat, pushing her head up and forcing her to look at him. “Once in your poor, miserable life you got the chance to do something useful with it. And we’re sticking it up your erse. Show some fuckin gratitude. If it wasn’t for you mother you wouldn’t even be standing here!” He yelled at his daughter wrathful and she felt his spit on her face. She knew what he meant by that. She knew that her father didn’t want her, when her mom, his girlfriend at that time, told him she was pregnant with his kid. “And clean up this mess! Your mother doesn’t have to do everything around here.” He added before he left hold of her and stormed out.

As it got dark Charlotte checked on her parents in the living room, both had fallen asleep in their armchairs. She left the house for a walk, which would hopefully get her mind off her toxic parents. She wasn’t living far away form Chicago city, so eventually she bought herself a beer at some street shop and set down on the pavement between two parked cars, hugging her knees. I will be stuck with them until I’ve finished college. If I finish at all. If he doesn’t care for me why doesn’t he let me go. It wasn’t the first time that night when she thought about just leaving, running away from her family.

And then she heard it. His laugh. His warm and soft giggle. She looked up but couldn’t see no one. There it was again. And then she saw him. He was walking on the other side of the road. A lady at his side, one arm tugged into him. She was absolutely gorgeous, tall, long, straight blond hair, wearing heels, a mini skirt underlining her stunning long legs and as it seemed his jacket hang over her shoulders. They both were laughing and smiling at each other. And Charlotte felt a deep, sharp pain in her heart. She was purely crushed seeing him with another woman. And before she knew it they were out of her sight, disappearing behind some cars.

She laid her head on her arms, squinting her bleary eyes. She wasn’t angry with him. But with herself. Disappointed she had left him into her heart so early, without knowing so less of him. And she felt stupid, like a teenager for getting her hopes up only because she liked him, only because he was nice to her. She felt stupid for believing a man like him could be interested in someone like her, when he could be with an actor or a model, literally anyone. And a single tear ran down her cheek before she started weeping into her arms, trying to wash away the entire day.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

#Alan Rubin x fem!Reader #Alan Rubin x Reader #blues brothers #blues brothers fanfiction #blues brothers fandom

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stardust-walker · 3 years

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High Hopes: Chapter 14

Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

word count: 3443

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Dove wasn’t sure how long she’d slept for, but the sun was already shining and the RV was moving when she opened her eyes. Bleary eyed and still feeling tired, she rolled over onto her back as Carol shook her awake. “Mornin, sleepyhead,” Carol smiled a little as she brushed Dove’s hair back off her face.

Dove sighed as she rose into a sitting position. “How long was I out for?”

“A decent time,” Carol sighed as she sat next to her sister. “They wanted to wake you up when we were setting things out for Sophia, but I told them that you needed your rest.”

Dove scoffed and ran a hand through her hair before she pulled a hairtie from her wrist. “You’re one to talk about needing sleep,” Dove mumbled as she held the hairtie between her teeth. She was pulling her hair back as she listened to her sister.

“Shush. Daryl held true to his word. Made a nice big sign on the back window of a car and all that. Said someone should try to circle back at least once a day until she comes back,” Carol sounded confident in the efforts of the redneck and Dove couldn’t help but agree with her.

A few moments later, they came to a stop as people came filing out of a big farmhouse. Dove followed close behind Carol as she descended the steps. The members of the household stood back and Dove couldn’t help but observe them once she heard that Carl was alright. The older man, Hershel, stood close to a small blonde girl and a boy who had to be her boyfriend by the way she clung to his arm. The woman from the woods who had spirited Lori away to be with her son, an older blonde woman, and a tall young man with curly black hair all stood on the steps of the house.

Dove’s attention shifted to Shane as Rick spoke. “We would’ve lost Carl if not for him.” Dove paused for a moment before she followed Carol over and embraced Lori right along with her. The last thing she expected was to be pulled into another funeral, but that was what life had in store for them it seemed.

The dark haired man cleared his throat before he looked at the man who owned the house. “Hershel? Now that this is all handled…think we can do that thing for Otis now?” His words were careful and Dove saw the older blonde start to tear up. She could only guess who Otis was.

Hershel was a well spoken man and gave a nice service, even if Dove wasn’t so sure what she believed in anymore. Dove’s attention shifted to Shane again as Hershel attempted to direct him to speak. “I’m not very good at it, sorry.” Shane twitched slightly and Dove moved her hand up to clutch her necklace. Something about the way he was acting was just…off. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it felt wrong.

“You were the last one with him,” Patricia began to cry again. “You shared his final moments. Please.” She began to plead and Dove stared at her feet. “I need to know his death had meaning.”

Shane stepped forward to speak and the whole group seemed to go silent. “We were about done. Almost out of ammo. We were down to pistols by then. I was limpin, it was bad. Ankle all swollen up. ‘We’ve gotta save the boy.’ See that’s what he said. He gave me his backpack, shoved me ahead. He said he would take the rear and cover me.” Dove’s gaze shifted around the group.

The dark haired young man from before clenched his jaw as he stared across the group at Shane. Carol reached out and Dove reached back and instinctively gave her hand a comforting squeeze. “And when I looked back…”Shane stopped and walked forward. “If not for Otis, I never would’ve made it out alive. That goes for Carl too.” Dove’s eyes locked with Dale across the group as the man with the curly hair shook his head and began to stomp back to the house. Dale didn’t look like he bought it either. Maybe she wasn’t crazy after all.

“Hey,” Dove turned slightly at the unrecognizable voice, only to see the young man from before. She raised an eyebrow as he approached; he looked less miserable than before but she couldn’t blame him. “Sorry if I spooked ya, Hershel just told me I should come get ya. They’re talkin about goin to look for that little girl.”

“Sophia,” Dove stated as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Right, sorry…you’re her aunt, I think the sheriff said,” he raised an eyebrow at her.

“’S right. Name’s Dove…Sawyer,” she held her hand out and the young man shook it, maybe too enthusiastically.

“Julian. Julian Montgomery. Now you’re just gonna wanna head up to that silver car right up there. Maggie’s bringing a map for ya’ll to look at.” He pointed towards the small group gathered right in the spot he’d said.

“Thanks. Think you can help my friend Glenn over there put up his tent? He acts like he’s good at it but he really sucks,” Dove mumbled as she patted the younger man’s arm in thanks before she began to speed walk off.

“Sure thing,” she heard the man reply from behind her.

As she approached, she heard Hershel almost scold Rick. “Not you, not today. You gave three units of blood. You wouldn’t be hiking five minutes in this heat before passing out. And Shane, push that ankle now, you’ll be laid up for a month.”

Dove slid into the space between Andrea and who must have been Maggie and spoke up, “I’ll take Rick’s spot.”

Rick shook his head, “No I don’t think that’s a good idea. You should stay here with Carol and…”

“And what? Mope around and wish that I was out there able to do something? Besides, Sophia might not respond well to everyone. She doesn’t,” she trailed off and took a deep breath, “she doesn’t trust a lot of people. Odds of her coming out of wherever she is if she hears my voice are a lot higher than some strangers. No offense.”

There was a pause before Shane sighed, removed his baseball hat, and ran a hand over his now bald head. “Bird’s got a point.”

Daryl let out an annoyed grunt as he reached out for the map. “Look’s like it’s just me, then.”

Rick sighed and pinched his nose, “Daryl…”

“I work better alone,” Daryl said as he surveyed the map.

“Well that’s too damn bad, Dixon.” Dove felt her anger at the man flare up again. “Because like I said. It doesn’t seem like alone is gonna bring Sophia out of hiding anytime soon.”

The tension in the air was thick before Daryl spoke again as he pushed the map back over towards her. Dove caught Andrea’s eye and raised an eyebrow at her. The older woman just shrugged her shoulders. “We head back to the creek then. Work our way from there.”

Shane was going to go back to the road and Dove felt a little bit better about everything before Shane spoke again. “We can’t have our people out there with just knives.”

“We don’t just have knives. Daryl’s got his crossbow, I’ve got my crowbar. We’re fine,” Dove planted her hands on the hood of the car.

“Not saying you won’t be fine today, but what about tomorrow. Everyone needs gun training. We’ve been promising them,” Shane said. Dove rolled her eyes and patted the hood of the car.

“Alright well, you let me know when we’re heading out,” she pointed across the hood at Daryl before she turned on her heel and caught sight of Carol. She caught up with her as she started to set up camp. “I just wanted to let you know…I’m goin with Daryl to look for Soph.” She looked down at her feet as she heard Carol stop moving.

Carol sighed. “Alright. Just…please be careful. I don’t need to lose you too,” Carol looked up at her younger sister from her spot on the ground.

Dove chuckled and gave Carol’s shoulder a playful shove. “I think the only thing I have to worry about it Daryl leavin my ass out in the woods if he decides I’m too annoying.” She caught a glimpse of the man as he walked towards the house, so she leaned closer to her sister, a devious sparkle in her eye, “Or he pisses me off and I give him an old ‘one-two’ with old trusty here,” she waved her crowbar close to Carol.

Carol rolled her eyes and slapped the weapon away from her, “Just behave yourself and be careful, please.”

“Yes, mom,” Dove called over her shoulder as she turned and walked off.

Julian stopped what he was doing as he saw Maggie approach. He raised a hand in greeting, “Hey, Mags! You meet Glenn yet?” He called and a glare from Glenn went unnoticed as the brunette woman shook her head.

“No, but I was lookin for him.” Maggie turned her attention to Glenn. “I hear you’re fast on your feet and know how to get in and out.” Julian let out a quiet snort of laughter as Maggie continued. “Got a pharmacy run. You in?”

Glenn didn’t seem to know what to say and, thankfully, Dale interrupted. Julian tried to bite back another laugh once Maggie walked off to saddle up a horse for the new guy. Glenn glanced between the three men around him, “Horse?”

Julian couldn’t hold it in anymore and laughed, “Ever ridden one before man?” Glenn shook his head as a look of concern washed over his face. “Don’t worry, dude. It’s just like riding a bike. Except the bike is alive and can buck you off if you…”

“Julian.” A loud voice from the house interrupted his as the small blonde stepped out onto the porch and waved him towards her.

“Ah, nevermind. Let me know if you guys need anymore help later,” he nodded at the members of the new group. “Good luck, Glenn.” Once the young man was far enough away, Dale spoke up.

“What a strange boy,” Dale shook his head.

T-Dog rolled his eyes, “Man almost threw up when he saw my arm last night. Don’t think they’ve seen other people in months. Just let it go, man.”

Dove wasn’t surprised that she almost missed Daryl leaving and it was only by the good grace of Rick Grimes that she was able to catch him before he left without her. “It puts you off the hook. You don’t owe us anything,” Rick called over to him as Dove stopped behind the man with the crossbow.

Daryl paused a moment, “My other plans fell through. C’mon,” he walked past her with an angry look on his face.

“What was that all about,” Dove took long strides to keep up with the older man.

“Nothin, don’t worry about it. Now be quiet. I need to be able to hear out here,” Daryl grunted as he walked into the tree line.

Dove sighed as she stepped into the trees behind him. “Sorry, guess I’m a bit of a nervous talker,” she whispered.

“Haven’t noticed,” Daryl hissed back.

Dove chewed on the inside of her cheek to stay quiet as best she could. She wasn’t necessarily in the mood to be on Daryl’s bad side today. So, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and wrapped her thin fingers around the pendant that the same angry person had given to her last night.

“You alright back there,” Daryl turned his head.

Dove’s eyes snapped open and she felt heat rush to her cheeks. With a shake of her head, she let go of her necklace and moved to catch up to him. “Sorry, didn’t realize that I’d fallen behind.”

“You best keep up. Don’t need your sister on my ass for losin you while we’re out here lookin for Sophia,” he looked her up and down as she stepped up alongside him.

Dove scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Shit.”

“What?”

“You fucking sound like Carol,” she rolled her eyes and motioned for him to get moving again.

Daryl huffed as he started moving through the trees again. It didn’t take too long for them to reach a clearing. Dove, however, was surprised as she stepped out into the bright sunshine. She stared ahead and her heart leapt as she caught sight of a house. “You think she could be in there,” she turned her head to look at Daryl.

“Don’t know, could be. Let’s go,” he spoke quietly before he motioned for her to follow him. “Keep that thing close,” he pointed to the crowbar in her hand.

Dove nodded as she tightened her grip on the weapon as they approached the home. Dove felt her pulse quicken as they walked through each room. She wanted to call out for Sophia but she knew that wasn’t the best idea. A walker could hear them, then they would all be up shit creek. It was as Daryl picked up a can of tuna that she heard it. Something moved in the closet. She stared at it as the man slowly rose into a standing position and began to move towards the sound. All the horror movies she’d ever seen told her it was an awful idea, but Daryl pulled the little door open before she could protest.

A sharp exhale left her as she felt her sense of hope deflate like a balloon. There was nothing in the cupboard except for blankets and a pillow. She stepped up next to him and stared down at the small pile on the ground for a few moments. A hand on her arm snapped her out of it and she turned her head slowly to see Daryl put his hand back on his crossbow. “C’mon. Maybe she’s outside,” he was already out the door, calling for her before she even had a chance to move.

Dove’s feet carried her quickly as she ran out the door and towards the opposite end of the clearing from Daryl. She yelled for Sophia over and over again for what felt like hours but was really only minutes. Her hazel eyes started to fill with tears as she turned around and spotted Daryl. He had a white flower in his hand. What the fuck.

Daryl must have great hearing, she thought as he turned around once she started to approach. “Can you hold this,” he held the flower out to her. Her eyes widened as she stared at his hand before her gaze shifted back to his face. “It’s for your sister. A Cherokee rose,” he explained. Dove stared blankly. “You know, right?”

Dove raised an eyebrow, “The…state flower of Georgia?”

Daryl rolled his eyes and shoved the flower into her grasp, “Can’t believe you don’t know the story.”

Dove sighed as she began to follow Daryl back to their new camp. “I…I think I wanna hear the story,” she looked down at the flower in her hand as Daryl peeked over his shoulder at her. “I mean, if you’re alright with talkin in the woods and all that.”

Daryl paused for a moment, just long enough for Dove to keep up and match his stride. “Just an old wives tale, I think. Heard it from school…my mom, don’t really remember. Just remember the story.”

Dove chuckled and nudged Daryl’s arm with her elbow as they walked, “I don’t mind old wives tales. Just as good as any other story. I wanna hear it. If you got this,” she held the flower up, “for my sister because of a story or whatever, it must be a good one. You don’t seem like a man who does or says much if it doesn’t have a purpose.”

Daryl squinted at her for a moment before he turned his attention forward with a nod of his head. “Alright. But I’ll tell ya when we get back. Don’t wanna repeat myself.” Dove rolled her eyes and kept her mouth shut the rest of the walk back. He was doing a lot for her family, that was the least she could do for him.

Dove let out a low whistle as she looked around the clean RV. “I cleaned it up. Wanted it to look nice for her,” Carol spoke from the small table. A smile crossed Dove’s face as Daryl reached back and took the flower from her. She was careful as she slipped past him and took a seat across from her sister.

“For a second, I thought I was in the wrong place,” Daryl replied. Dove reached across the table and gave Carol’s hand a squeeze.

“You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Care,” Dove patted Carol’s hand once more before she folded her hands on the table in front of her. Her eyes settled on the Cherokee rose that was now placed on the counter.

“A flower,” Carol asked.

“It’s a Cherokee rose,” Daryl motioned towards the flower. Dove raised an eyebrow at the older man expectantly. He had told her that there was a story, she didn’t want to have to ask. He sighed and stepped closer to the table. “The story is that when American soldiers were moving Indians off their land on the trail of tears, the Cherokee mothers were grieving and crying so much ‘cause they were losing their little ones along the way.” Dove caught herself starting to chew on her thumb nail as she listened to Daryl talk. A glance over at her sister showed that she was just as caught up in the story. “Ya know, exposure and disease…starvation. A lot of them just disappeared. So the elders, they said a prayer; asked for a sign to uplift the mothers’ spirits, give them strength and hope.” Carol’s gaze settled on the flower on the counter, but Dove’s focus didn’t shift from the man as he spoke.

Dove was good at picking up lies. She had to be in her old life before everything ended. She could pick up the slightest tell in most people after knowing them for a little while. But Daryl didn’t seem like a liar or insincere. She felt tears start to form in her eyes and she raised a hand to wipe them away as he continued. “The next day, this rose started to grow right where the mothers’ tears fell. I’m not fool enough to think there’s any flowers blooming for my brother. But, I believe this one bloomed for your little girl.”

Dove let out a quiet laugh along with her sister as a smile finally showed on Carol’s face for the first time in days. Once Daryl had left, Dove took a deep breath and spoke. “Damn that was quite a story,” she chuckled as she wiped tears from her cheeks.

Carol nodded her head, “Did you know about that?”

Dove shook her head, “Nope. Daryl’s the one who picked the flower for you and everything. I didn’t even know what he was talkin about when he mentioned it in the woods…I get it now, though.” Dove smiled at her sister. “Unless it was just an excuse for Daryl to bring you a flower because he’s got a crush on you,” Dove wiggled her eyebrows as she ducked to avoid a swat from Carol.

The short-haired woman shook her head as she let out a laugh, “You cut that out!”

“Oh come on, he’s not that bad,” Dove laughed as she tossed a crumb of food towards her sister.

Carol raised an eyebrow at her, “You been spending some time with him the past few days. Are you…what do ya call it? Projecting?” A sly look was on Carol’s face as she went back to her knitting.

Dove let out a loud, incredulous laugh as she shook her head, “See now that? That’s taking it way too far!”

It was strange, but it was the most at peace that Dove had probably felt since Sophia had gone missing. Still, she couldn’t help but feel just a little guilty for it. “You were right, back on the road.”

“Huh,” Dove tilted her head.

“If anyone’s gonna find Sophia, it’s probably a tracker,” Carol nodded her head.

Dove stood up and walked around the table before she settled back down and leaned her head on her sister’s shoulder. ��I hope you’re right.”

___

@crossbowking @momc95 @chaotic-gary-king-stan

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the-mandalorian-clone-lover · 4 years

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Ok y’all, I have gathered enough nerve or something and here it is :D

This is kind of the description and then I’ll put the reference photos and the first part under the read more thingy.

Roman is a mob boss and is played by Ewan McGregor (he’s 100% a hopeless romantic and wants someone to cherish, when he finds that person he will literally do anything to keep them, not afraid of much), Erica (She wants to be loved despite her Asexuality, she is afraid it’s impossible, and she isn’t willing to do much to make it happen because she’s convinced it’s impossible) is his girlfriend. Butcher is basically Kronk from the Emperor’s new groove (because he’s enormous and adorable and I love him).

Second part here

Ok so top is Butcher, he’s probably 6′5 in my mind or more? Probably has tattoos, I’ll leave that up to your imagination. Second is Roman (who is Ewan obvs but this is about the age I picture him). Third is Erica, I picture her between 26&28 and Roman 30 or 32, so there is an age gap but it isn’t more than 4-6 years. She’s 5′11 and Roman is 5′10, that’s a surprise tool that will help us later, and yeah I think that’s about it. Story below :)

Oh– Warnings?: Talking about coming out, Erica yells a sentence or two but she’s frustrated, silly self-indulgence? Excessive tooth-rotting fluff

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(The song he sings is Your Song from Moulin Rouge)

Roman’s been deep in thought in the back of the car the entire ride and Butch has finally had enough.

“Somethin’ going on boss?”

Roman sighs, “Erica texted that she wanted to talk to me instead of doing dinner tonight.” He pauses before evidently deciding to give Butch the whole story, looking at his feet as he does so. “I asked her at dinner two days ago if she wanted to be official and now, I’m wondering if it was too soon. Did I scare her off?” Roman’s eyes come back to Butch’s as he asks and for a moment he’s at a loss, thankfully Roman continues before he has to answer. “I know I tend to..” his eyes go to the window, eyes searching it as if it holds the right words “..do things a little old fashioned. Commit to each other, take care of each other, do people, not do that anymore?” He asks the question desperately and Butch ponders a moment before responding.

“Maybe not out there, but if anyone would want a little old fashioned, I think it’d be Ms. Erica.” They’ve been dating a month or so now, strictly dinner and walking in the park type dates, she had come to the pent house once, but only so Roman could give her a one month anniversary present; a necklace (it had been simple but elegant, Butch had helped pick it out).

Roman’s eyes make their way back to him, “What do you mean?”

Butch pauses, tilting his head and looking down before answering “She’s got an old soul, and she’s not the kind of woman you could get away with not treating her right.”

Roman had nodded his assent before opening his mouth but the stop of the car cuts him off.

Butch waits till they’re both out of the car before speaking again. “Do you want me to follow you up?”

It’s a matter of protocol, some days Butch sweeps the penthouse before Roman goes in, just to be sure, but at this moment Roman is pretty sure there could be snakes in his house and it wouldn’t be worse than the thought of Erica leaving him. Its early to be so attached, he knows this, but she’s so lovely and wonderful and one-of-a-kind that he hates to see her go so soon, when there’s so much he hasn’t gotten to say to her. He braces himself inwardly though, putting on a brave face for Butch.

“No, I’ll be alright, I’ll let you know if we decide to go for dinner after all.” He tries to smile but knows Butch sees right through it. Butch pulls him in by the shoulders for a hug before holding him at arms-length.

“Don’t go getting all mopey before she’s even talked to ya, maybe she’s already made dinner and that’s why.”

“It’s much too early for that, I hope she doesn’t think she has to—”

Butch is turning him and shoving him towards the door.

“Go on lover boy, face your music and don’t be a wimp!”

Roman drags himself up the stairs, feeling like a glutton for punishment at this moment, straightening himself up before opening the door. He almost regrets forgetting to knock before remembering this is his house and choosing instead to call out.

“Erica? Darling? I’m a little early, didn’t want to startle you.”

She appears in the entryway that leads to the living room, looking a little nervous herself.

“I-“ She takes a deep breath, eyes never leaving him “Thank you for having them let me in, what I wanted to talk to you about is a more personal matter.”

Well. That certainly didn’t sound like a precursor to a break-up.

“Of course” Roman responds, trying to sound as at-ease as possible. “Can I get you anything?” His eyes sweep her figure and upon realizing she’s abandoned her shoes he begins to toe off his own, leaving them next to hers in the doorway.

She’s shaking her head when he looks up. “No, thank you, I brought some cookies I made, they’re in here.” With that she turns back to the sitting room and begins to walk away. He hurries after her but tries to allow her space still. He takes the moment to look at her. She’d looked ill at ease in the foyer, a large OD green sweatshirt (that had probably seen better days) that said ‘Property of Middle Earth’ in worn white letters nearly swallowing her, hair down and falling in her face, she’d pushed it behind her ears twice as they walked. She’s wearing the black jeans she says are her favorites, everything seems to point to her dressing for comfort. She pushes the sweatshirt sleeves up to her elbows before sweeping the container off the coffee table and holding it out to him.

“I remember you said you liked macadamia nut, it’s my first time making them though.”

He nods, taking the box, also taking care to brush his fingers against hers as well as he can without raising suspicion. He takes off the lid, taking a deep breath before looking up to her in awe, “These smell amazing!” He smiles before looking down again, grabbing one to hold it out to her. “Share?”

She smiles thinly, shaking her head again, (Roman doesn’t think he’s ever seen her shake her head this much) before answering “No, I’m alright. Not very hungry anyway.”

Erica knows its not a convincing answer but what can she say? She’s been dreading this conversation ever since she started having feelings for Roman and when he had asked her to think about being officially together, she’d known she couldn’t put it off any longer. She looks at the floor again, remembering that she’s wearing her favorite sweatshirt and that if anyone from Middle Earth were here they’d be encouraging her (maybe not Sauron but he wasn’t really the encouraging type) and probably giving her an awkward thumbs up from behind Roman’s couch. She smiles at the comforting thought and looks back up at him. No matter what his response was, she’d handle it. She’d come this far. She sits down (albeit a little rigidly) on the couch behind her, and Roman follows her lead, sitting in the chair diagonal from the coffee table.

She takes another deep breath, this is it. “I’m just going to come right out and say it—”

“Do you want to break up?”

Roman’s on the edge of his chair, gripping the container and looking at her with, fear? Dread? She isn’t sure but it isn’t a positive emotion that’s etched into his face. He’s not the only one.

“No,” she says it carefully, deliberately, before continuing past what she knows is the point of no return. “But you might”.

It feels like a bomb went off. Roman actually leans back in the chair before blinking rapidly, attempting to process. “Did–“ he supposes ‘cheating’ might be too strong a word if they’re actually not even together but he isn’t sure what else they would split over.

“It isn’t something I did. It’s something I am.” Erica is resisting the urge to cry now, it doesn’t matter how many times she talks about it, it doesn’t seem to get easier when you care what the other person responds with. She’s looking at the floor when she hears shuffling and feels the couch dip next to her. She looks over to find Roman seated on the far end, reaching slowly to hover a hand above her shoulder.

“Whatever it is, we’ll work through it. It’s not as if anything is irreconcilable.” He pauses and Erica really is bracing now, nearly wanting to get up and run from the room in preparation for the inevitable.

“Unless you’re actually an orc. Or you like eating hummus. I have to draw the line somewhere.”

He says it as if it were obvious and she smiles, shaking her head before breathing out shakily. “It’s, well, its neither of those things.” She says, finally looking him in the eye, reaching up to guide his hand down to her shoulder. If nothing else, she’ll enjoy these last few minutes of comfort he offers before it’s all over.

“I’m asexual.”

Its out. And while it does take a weight off her chest, she isn’t sure it’s gone for good.

Roman blinks, tilting his head, “Tell me what that means?”

It’s a request. Not a demand, he didn’t fill the air with his assumptions, he just asked. That’s a new one.

“Well, it um,” Erica takes another deep breath, reaching out to grab his other hand in both of hers and fastening her eyes to them before spitting out the rest in a rush, “It means I don’t experience sexual attraction.”

He’d already started stroking the fingers he could reach when she took his hand hostage and he doesn’t stop when she finishes. She doesn’t move though, she’s waiting for it to sink in. Either he’ll tell her to get out, tell her that that isn’t a thing, or that he can fix her. She’s already got a plan for all three.

“Ok.” He says it as if she’d just told him it was cloudy outside. “How do you want me to respond?”

She brings her eyes back to his slowly, mouth agape. She can’t even be bothered to close it either, somehow, he’s managed to say the one thing she never expected.

“How do I want you to respond?”

“Well, I know that I don’t know exactly what you need or want to hear, so I’m asking.” He says it all so gently, as if he were trying to comfort her, as if he could sense how hard it was to say this, could he? “I want to support you” he says with conviction, “Sometimes you might have to tell me how.”

His gentle tone never fades, if anything it only sounds more genuine as he continues, moving his hand to hover next to her cheek. She leans into it, sniffing softly and closing her eyes against the tears. It’s hardly the time to cry now. Gathering herself she opens her eyes.

“You need to understand sex is something I might not ever be able to give you.” As sweet as he is, she won’t let him commit to something if he doesn’t even understand what it means. “I’ve, had,–“ now her eyes are back in her lap, withdrawing her hands from his, “experiences, but, I didn’t like them. And since I don’t have the desire anyway, it’s possible I’ll be like this forever.” She’s painting it bleakly but what else is there to say? She’s never been supported by any partner or friend and she isn’t sure she’d even know how to handle it if she was. Part of her does want to break up with Roman now, end it all before he can, give herself control of the situation before it gets any more uncomfortable.

“Why do you say it as if you were broken?”

Shock. That’s what she’s feeling, bringing her eyes up to look at Roman as if he’d grown two heads. Opening and closing her mouth twice before finally blurting out

“Isn’t that what you think?” She’s standing now, words falling out of her mouth in a rush of fear and anger, “Isn’t that what everyone thinks?! Isn’t that what you’re supposed to say? That I can’t be anything other than a robot if I don’t want” she gestures fiercely “that!? As if I wasn’t a whole person without it?” Roman is standing now but she can’t stop “As if there was no way two people could be together without doing it??” Her voice has somehow been getting louder all through her rant and everything’s getting blurry as the tears start “As if I were making the whole thing up?” He’s closer now, and she stumbles back, yelling a final, “AS IF I WASN’T A REAL PERSON BECAUSE OF IT??” before she collapses into his arms. She’s sobbing in earnest now, gripping onto him as tightly as she can. This has never happened. Every other time she’s always handled the rejection, the teasing, the downright harassment before calmly leaving and never coming back but, somehow, it’s Roman being kind to her that finally causes her to break. All the frustration, hurt and confusion finally pouring out in her tears. He’s just stroking her back with one hand, the other cradling her head against his shoulder. Between the sobs she can hear his voice, but he doesn’t seem to be saying much other than ‘its alright’ and telling her to let it out, saying that he’s here and he’s not leaving. It helps.

When the sobs subside to hiccups she wraps her arms a little tighter around him and takes a breath before sniffing.

“Can I have a tissue?” She says it as softly as she can, she doesn’t really want him to leave but she’s starting to worry for whoever does the wash. He seems to pick up on her reluctance to separate, instead taking the arm from her back to reach behind and down for the box on the coffee table. He fumbles in the awkward position for a moment, causing them both to huff in good humor before standing straight and holding it up by her face. She takes it.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said all those things to you.”

She mumbles it without ever moving, choosing to reach over his shoulder to wipe her face, if he’s willing to keep holding her, she isn’t going to make him stop.

He goes back to petting her hair softly, answering in the same tone, careful to keep his voice low. “Don’t apologize. If someone said those horrible things to me, I’d be upset too.”

She sighs quietly. He must not understand still.

“But everyone thinks they’re true. That’s the problem.” She says it matter-of-factly, her arms loosening a bit to rest on his shoulder blades before he suddenly grips her tighter.

“Not everyone.”

It’s a small thing, and it shouldn’t mean anything to her, but it does. It means the whole world.

They stand there holding each other for heaven only knows how long, Erica not wanting to leave the comforting embrace that Roman is offering, and Roman content to hold her as long as she needs.

More time passes before she hears him humming, well she feels it first but then she hears the soft notes next to her ear and feels him shifting back and forth slowly. Swaying them both. Then he’s singing to her. Quietly, barely above a whisper but his voice is like honey.

“My gift is my song, and this one’s for you” he nuzzles his cheek on the side of her head before going on, still whispering gently to her and swaying softly “and you can tell everybody, this is your song. It may be quite simple but, now that it’s done. I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words,” he gets a little louder then, more confident, “How wonderful life is, now you’re in the world.”

“Elton John?” She asks, voice still a little wobbly, only slightly teasing.

“No, well, yes, but I was thinking of Moulin Rouge.”

She frowns, slowing their swaying slightly, “I thought Elton John wrote that?”

She hears a small ‘ah’ followed by “Moulin Rouge is a film, have you not seen it?”

She shakes her head against his, muttering a ‘huh uh’

“Hmm, well, then let me finish serenading you and then we can watch it, how does that sound?”

She pulls away then, wanting to look him in the face even if she doesn’t necessarily want him to see hers. “You want to stay? With me?”

He nods, brushing his thumbs across where they’ve come to rest on her waist. “I’ll admit I don’t understand it all yet but I can learn. And if you promise to never start liking hummus then we seem to have an agreement.” He finishes with a smile and somehow Erica finds herself smiling with him. Somehow, she has hope again.

“I think I can promise that.” She says, taking another shaky breath in before muttering ‘eskimo kiss’ and leaning forward to brush her nose against his, he bumps their foreheads together and then they’re both giggling. He hasn’t ever kissed her lips yet but it’s moments like this that make her certain he’ll wait till she starts it.

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#asexual #ace #ace stories #ace character #ewan mcgregor #mob boss #how do i tag #*runs and hides*#*hopes for the best #aces in spaces

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wowweeharrystyles · 4 years

Text

Part 10 | Love & Villas in Italy | 6.8k words

Sequins & Zippers’ Summary: An internship with Harry Lambert transformed into a job of a lifetime - Aurora Del Gatto finds herself touring the world with the one & only Harry Styles as his ‘Head of Wardrobe.’ Aurora is nothing but nerves & excitement as she packs her bags & almost 100 custom designer suits that belong to an unbelievably kind rockstar. She never thought she’d fall in love on top of it all.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Masterlist

a/n: hello friends ! sending all the love to you in the crazyyyyy time we live in. getting focused on writing has been a big help to keep me sane this past week so I hope if you do read this that it’ll help distract you from the craziness too. - lots of love to @niallhoranapologist for consistently giving me ideas & listen to me ramble on & on about Aurora & Harry 💕

Alrightyyyyyyy here’s part 10 !

Aurora has seen Harry in every single one of these looks but still, night after night, she fawns over them. In Hong Kong, the stars and lightning that are rhinestoned onto the velvet Givenchy suit turns him into a real life disco ball when the lights come up. Sparkles and bright sparks of light covered his face through the entire show. Manila and Singapore’s looks graced the world with the glory of Harry’s swallow tattoos. Both the Harris Reed and St Laurent shirt dipped low and flowed with his movement on stage. Aurora couldn’t help but admire the way his chest and shoulders had bulked from the past 2 months of training. She paid extra attention to his collarbones, the tattoos littered across his shoulders and the swell between his pecs both of those nights as she helped him get ready.

Aurora could tell, night after night, before and after the show that he was growing exhausted. The circles under his eyes were getting darker, harder to cover up. He had to stop talking so much when he wasn’t on stage, drinking even more hot tea than normal. After the show in Osaka Aurora kissed him goodnight after taking care of his suit and readying the wardrobe cases to be moved to the next Arena.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” He asked quietly, not letting go of her hand. Aurora had been staying in her own hotel room during the Asia leg of tour, both of them deciding to drag out the honeymoon phase of their relationship. Anyways, both of them actually enjoy time on their own and neither of them were ready to pretty much “live together” cause that’s what it started feeling like.

Aurora looks up to him and squeezes his hand. Her eyes rounded, eyebrows lifting up only a little, almost like she was surprised by the helpless look on Harry’s face.

“I’m so tired but by the time my brain slows down enough for me to fall asleep I have to be up again. I fall asleep right away when you’re there,” his voice is soft. “S’much easier when you hold me and play with my hair,” he barely whispers, looking down to where their hands are intertwined, like he’s embarrassed by the admission.

Aurora drops his hand and cups his cheek delicately. Her lips are soft against his. She nods slowly at him when he opens his eyes. She kisses the opposite cheek her hand is holding. Her bag in one hand and Harry’s jacket in the other, she offers it to him. He slips his arms in it, tossing his phone in the pocket and throwing his own bag over his shoulder. He opens his mouth to say something, but Aurora offers her hand out to him and speaks. “Come on, baby, lets go.”

Harry feels his chest heave. His throat tightens like he’s going to cry. He clears his throat and swallows deliberately. Aurora leads them through the hallways, wishing goodnight to everyone she passes. He’s on vocal rest for the most part, so Harry not giving full goodbyes to everyone isn’t questioned. If Harry tried to speak he’s sure he’d have tears fall from his eyes. The mix of exhaustion, a sore throat and the swell of fondness in his chest are a perfect mix to heighten Harry’s emotions. The car ride is silent as they sit in the backseat of the blacked out car. Harry’s head rests on Aurora’s shoulder. She holds his hands in her lap, twirling his rings back and forth.

Aurora is quick to wash her face and brush her teeth once they get to Harry’s hotel room. She joins him in the big, oversized bed covered in layers of white linens. Aurora pulls at the sheets until they tug loose from the tight tucking at the corners and discards some of the unnecessarily stiff sheets. Harry finds these actions endearing, now realising she does this in every hotel room. She tosses the extra pillows away as well, commenting that she’s thankful she didn’t pick up the habit of bringing her own pillow with her like her mother does. Harry laughs at that, the first and only time that night.

Aurora lays down on her side facing Harry, holding up the sheet and blanket that are left, Harry lays in the empty space. Tossing the covers over Harry's body, she moves as close to him as she can. Propping herself up on her forearm, she peers over to catch his eyes. She moves a rogue curl from his face and leans down to kiss him on the lips one last time for the night. After switching off the light on her side of the bed she settles behind him, his back to her front. Aurora hooks a leg over Harry and when her hand is in his hair, softly running her nails against his scalp he sinks into her chest and in turn, further into the mattress. When his eyes flutter for the last time, closing completely as he falls asleep, Aurora presses a kiss to his shoulder landing near the ‘A’.

She continues to run her hands through his thick curls for a while longer. She watches as his pink lips part as slow, even breaths fall in and out. His features are completely relaxed. It's the first time in almost a week that she’s seen his face without a permanent furrow to his brows. Once she knows he lost deep in sleep, she wraps her once busy hand around his torso, hooks her chin between the base of his neck and shoulder and falls asleep with him.

The final night of the Asia leg of tour was long and Harry was counting down the hours till he could crash onto the almost familiar bed in his favourite villa in Rome. Aurora and Harry take a car straight to the Tokyo airport from the arena after saying goodbye to their friends for the next 10 days. Sarah and Mitch are going back to london to get some rest, Adam is going back home to his wife and kids. Most of the crew are London based so they’ll head home too before they pack back up to start the 2nd half of tour.

Both Harry and Aurora are clad in their own black World Tour 2018 hoodies, their hoods pulled up all the way. The airport is pretty quiet, given it being past midnight. Harry’s security leads the couple to the private lounge while they wait for their flight to board. Harry dozes off while waiting and Aurora facetimes her parents as it’s morning back in New York. She paces the almost empty lounge while she talks to her parents on Facetime. Her mom catches a glimpse of Harry’s sleeping figure in the background which sparks several questions. Saved by the bell, Sean, Harry’s head of security calls her name and says it’s time to board. Aurora says goodbye and hangs up before waking Harry. The 3 of them grab their carry on bags, Harry and Aurora following Sean to the terminal.

Aurora wishes she wasn't so tired so she could properly enjoy her first time in first class but her and Harry barely get out a sentence to each other before they're both asleep.

| | | | |

They’re ushered into a large black SUV when they land in Rome. Harry instinctively grabs Aurora’s bag, tossing his own over his shoulder and reaches for her hand when they’re dropped off at the villa. The sun is out and the almost 13 hour flight helping the dark circles begin to disappear. Aurora’s eyes widen when she pulls her focus from Harry’s broad back. In front of her is a cream brick house. She’s never seen a house this big. Well, it’s called a villa for a reason, she laughs to herself. Opening the front door after turning the key in the lock, Harry pulls Aurora inside.

Setting the bags down near the staircase that is directly in front of the front door, Harry turns around. Aurora’s eyes haven’t changed since she got here. They’re wide with wonder and awe.

“I’ve never-” she doesn’t finish her sentence. Her eyes dark around the beautiful home.

“I know it’s obnoxiously big, I swear I’m not trying to be like that, but it’s my favourite place in Italy. I normally come here with a big group, so it makes sense then,” he stops himself from rambling. “I wanted to share it with you,” he says once he’s got his arms wrapped around Aurora’s waist.

“Harry, it’s beautiful,” she almost whispers, entranced by the details and the feeling that is sitting in the pit of her stomach. It’s almost the same feeling she had when she walked into Harry’s London home. Her hands hold onto his biceps as she takes one more look around before looking at Harry. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

| | | | |

They’re sitting on the floor of the living room, an old unique rug underneath them. Fresh mugs of tea are steaming in their hands. They are facing the big picture window that looks out onto the grounds of the villa. The sunset cast the perfect light into the cozy room.

“What scares you the most?” Harry’s voice breaks the silence.

Aurora looks at Harry and lets out a breath. She pulls her lips in between her teeth, thinking. She knows what scares her. She’s got plenty of fears, most are silly and she knows those are her brain messing with her. But, the thing that scares her most? “Never feeling comfortable in myself.”

“Ror,” Harry says with small laugh, “you’re so confident though, and so sure in what you know and-”

“No,” she cuts him off, she shakes her head, focusing on the swirl of the hot tea in her mug, thankful their backs are to the sofa, so she doesn’t have to look at him right now. “I don’t think it's the confidence and I’ve been pretending to know things since I could talk. Ask my mom,” she lets out a short laugh then pauses before getting to her point. “I can fake being confident and knowing what I’m doing. I’m really good at it. I’m scared I’ll never actually be comfortable in myself enough and that I’ll have to fake it forever. That I’ll go through my entire life playing pretend with myself, overthinking every move.” Aurora doesn't dare look at Harry’s face, instead she trains her eyes on the darkening horizon in front of her.

“You never feel fake to me,” Harry encourages. Aurora sighs.

“I’ve had a lot of practice, never really come off fake, I guess?” Aurora thinks about where she wants this conversation to go. It’s Harry after all and this villa feels like a world away from everything else. “I’ve got a lot to work on still, but it is getting easier.” She sets her mug down and turns to Harry. “I feel comfortable when I’m with you,” she admits. Harry’s eyes light up. “I’ve never felt this comfortable in myself or with someone in a long time.” Harry leans over the small space between them and lands his lips on the top of Aurora’s cheek.

“Come ‘ere,” he says, setting his mug down and then motioning to the space between his legs. Aurora smiles softly as she moves on the rug. She reciprocates his actions and kisses his cheek quickly before leaning her back against his chest.

As they get comfortable again, he wraps his arms around her torso and she rests her hands on top of his. She lets her breathing match his, their chests rising and falling at the same time. She sinks further into his chest, fully relaxing as his hot breath hits the top of her ear a few times.

“What scares you?” she tosses his question back. Harry nudges his nose into Aurora’s hair, kisses the skin behind her ear and then sighs.

Harry begins to move Aurora’s hair off her neck as he speaks, “M’scared of not knowing who I really am, or could be.” He kisses the back of Aurora’s neck softly and it makes Aurora squirm. His motions are so light they barely feel real. “The time where I was meant to be figuring that out was the busiest, craziest time of my life. I’m afraid I’ll never get that time to discover myself, back.”

“If it counts for anything,” Aurora speaks up, leaning to the side so she can peer back at Harry, “I think you’re pretty great.” Harry laughs lightly. “Seriously though, it can’t be easy to do all that in the public eye, but it seems like you’re getting there. I studied fashion so that’s where I can pinpoint it easily, it’s where I see people express themselves and feel like I can really see who someone is through their clothes. That’s why I feel in love with it in the first place.” Aurora kisses the edge of Harry’s jaw, noticing how it had tensed up. He lets out a breath. “And even though I’ve only really known you for a short amount of time I can see the transition and the coming into your own through your clothes. Saw it happen years ago and it just continues.” She twists her body around more so she can really look at him. “I can see it on your face when you’ve got something on that you feel so incredibly confident in, singing your own songs, the music you made. It’s hard to describe what I see night after night, but,” she stutters, unsure how to word the feeling that flutters in her chest every time she sees him perform on stage. “It may not feel like it to you, but I think you’re doing a pretty good job of figuring out who you are.” She kisses the corner of his mouth, where it ticks up in a smile first. “Always a work in progress though,” she adds.

Harry’s eyes gleamed. The sun has set fully now and the flicks of light from the few candles they lit earlier in the evening create a warm glow throughout the room. It doesn’t take Aurora long to cradle Harry’s shadowed face in her hands and pulls kiss after kiss from him.

Harry’s arms engulf Aurora and she’s pulled tight to his chest, their legs tangled together. Their mugs of tea go cold long before they remember them. After tossing the cold tea down the sink they make their way up to the master bedroom and retire for the evening.

| | | | |

Aurora’s eyes light up when she steps out of the car and onto the beautiful grounds of the Villa Lante. Through the large, innately carved, moss covered arc Aurora can see an expansive green filled garden. A woman with a clipboard says hello to Harry and it seems that he’s worked with her before. Harry takes the initiative to introduce Aurora. The woman checks her list and ushers them under the Arc pointing out the row of makeshift white tents set up to the right of the fountain in front of them.

Harry Lambert is waiting outside one of the tents when the couple make their way in. Lambert greets them both and immediately Harry is pulled off to get to hair and makeup.

“How’s Italy treating you so far?” Lambert asks as he brings her into the tent that is housing the several rolling racks of clothes.

“It’s lovely,” Aurora answers before she’s fully distracted by the clothes in front of her. She runs her hands over the intricate details of each flower that’s stitched onto one of the jackets.

Lambert begins to go over the lay of the land and walk Aurora through the schedule for the day. In about an hour, Harry should be done in hair and makeup and come to them to get dressed. Aurora and Lambert begin to pull together an outfit for the first scene. They opt to start out simple and prep a solid cloudy grey jacket and lilac shirt and trousers.

Harry enters almost exactly an hour later, a tray of coffees in his hand and someone follows behind carrying another tray. There’s enough for everyone floating in and out of the tent.

“Here ya go, Ror,” Harry says, grabbing the one he’s written her name on. She thanks him as she always does. She’s nervous to say the least, but the familiarity of Harry bringing her a coffee eases the nerves a little.

Once Harry’s dressed in the suit, Lambert and Aurora take a step back to make any adjustments needed. Harry’s hair is the longest it’s been in a while and the stylists have got it set and curled just right. Aurora remembers a gold hair piece she saw earlier on the table. Grabbing it, she hovers it over Harry's head to see what Lambert thinks before placing it in his hair.

“Yes, absolutely,” Lambert approves.

As aurora rounds to the front of Harry to face him he purses his lips, suppressing a smile. She rolls her eyes minutely at his hidden expression and focuses on the task on hand. Twisting the crownlike headband in her hand she lets out a huff.

“Will ya bend down for me, Har?” He does as he’s asked and smiles up at her through his eyelashes. She scrunches her nose at him as she tries to hide a smile now.

She places the gold crown on his head, adjusts it lightly and moves one curl so it doesn’t cover the detail at the center of it.

“You look like a prince,” she comments, only loud enough for Harry to hear.

| | | | |

“Ya really think I looked like a prince?” Harry asks from where he’s standing across the kitchen, glass of wine in his hand.

Aurora’s busy at the stove top as she laughs at him. “You’re not gonna let this go, huh?” she asks as she turns around. The blue apron she has tied around her waist is starting to get dirty as she moves through the recipe she has pulled up on her phone.

Her and Harry had stopped at the local shop to get food for the week and Aurora offered to make dinner for the 2 of them tonight. When they got back and Aurora started cooking Harry was instructed that his only job was to drink wine once the groceries were put away. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying watching Aurora work around the kitchen.

Harry shakes his head, “Definitely not going to let it go,” he answers. Sipping his wine he walks over to Aurora. “So what are we having?” Harry thinks he could do this the rest of his life. Sneaking away on trips with Rory, watching her move around an unfamiliar kitchen like it’s her own, sharing quiet evenings and all that consumes their heads like they did the night before.

“It’s my dad's recipe, toasted ravioli, but I’ve never made it with fresh made ravioli, only ever frozen. The first few might be failures, we’ll see.”

“Smells good!” Harry compliments, resting his hip against the counter, smiling at her.

“My dad always made it for big occasions or celebrations growing up. Now he’ll make it when all of us are home, still kind of a celebration then, I guess.”

“What’re we celebrating?”

“Hmmm,” Aurora begins, “not sure, guess I just wanted to make you dinner.”

“How about we celebrate this?” Aurora’s eyebrows knit together in confusion but before she can get out a word he’s connecting their lips.

The kiss is languid and passionate. Aurora sets the utensil she had in her hand on the counter so she can wrap her arms around his shoulders. Harry pulls away and rests his forehead against hers.

“I love you.”

Aurora’s eyes go wide and she feels tears prickle at her waterline and squeezes her eyes shut. She opens them just as quickly. A flush creeps up on her face as Harry’s eyes bore into her own, his green iris’ full of nothing but compassion and love. Aurora kisses him quickly so she can relay her feelings and get the 3 exact same words out to him.

“I love you, too,” she whispers against his lips.

They would stand there in the kitchen kissing for the rest of the night if the oil didn’t start spattering in the deep pot barely a foot behind Aurora. She lets out a surprised “oh,” both of them jumping at the sound. She pulls away from him, regrettably, to attend to the hot oil and the food that needs to be cooked. She sucks in a deep breath, her head a bit dizzy and lets it out as she turns the burner down just a notch before dropping the first few breaded raviolis in the oil.

Harry presses a kiss to her cheek as she watches the pot and then sits back on a stool nearby to watch her make dinner. She turns her head to him and sees him shamelessly watching her every move. Neither of them say anything. They mirror each other’s smiles. Harry smiles Aurora’s favourite smile. The one where his lips turn up so much that his gums show, his nose scrunches up and the crinkle from his nose melt into the ones that appear at his eyes. His dimples are deep and the shimmer to his eyes is nothing but another way of proving he is her sunshine.

They eat dinner on the patio in the backyard of the villa, finishing a full bottle of wine by the time they finish dinner. Harry grabs a new bottle and a blanket from inside when they move from the table to the lounge chair that faces the same sunset they watched the night before.

The light breeze and repeated whispers of ‘I love you’ back and forth are the only sounds as they watch the sun set. Aurora snuggles into Harry even more as he begins to softly sing ‘Leather and Lace.”

She falls asleep against him and Harry happily carries her up to bed. One last exchange of “I love you”s is all that is needed before they’re both fast asleep.

| | | | |

“I get why you sit with me while I get ready, now,” Harry comments, talking only loud enough to be heard over Aurora’s music that’s playing softly from her phone. Aurora smiles at him in the mirror. He is sitting on a velvet covered vanity seat that was tucked away in the corner of the master bathroom until Harry pulled it out to sit with Aurora.

He admires how her delicate fingers apply her makeup. He can’t help but smile while he watches her. The red floral wrap dress she has on moves slightly as she sways along to the music, singing along every so often.

“Okay, all done!” she announces. She’s got a look on her face like she’s proud of herself and she is. She’s always enjoyed taking the time to do her make up and she’s particularly thrilled with how her eyeliner turned out today.

Harry follows her to the bedroom where their stuff is scattered around. She grabs her purse and tosses it on the bed. Last night, courtesy of Gucci, both her and Harry were sent an array of boxes and bags. She pulls the latest gucci tote out of a fresh box and sets it on the bed. Before transferring her belongings from her old, torn up purse she runs her fingers over the freshly embroidered monogram. AMDG is embroidered in red thread - Aurora Marie Del Gatto.

Once she packs her things into their place she pulls the bag over her shoulder and looks at herself in the mirror. The red lipstick she put on matches her dress and the monogram letters perfectly and her small heeled boots give her a boost of confidence.

“You look beautiful, Rory,” Harry says as he sees her reflection in the large mirror. Harry places a hand on her waist and kisses the crown of her head.

“Thank you,” she says with a sweet smile. Aurora turns to Harry and gives him an unexpected hug. He has a look of surprise on his face when they pull apart. “I’m just really grateful for all of this,” she explains.

“I didn’t buy you the purse, Ror,” he chuckles.

“No, I know that. I’m grateful for this opportunity, for being in Italy, just being here with you in general.” Harry kisses her swiftly. Harry shushes her before she continues.

“We’ve still got 2 more days of shooting left, things could go downhill from here,” he jokes, “and you’ve got 3 more days of being here with me and then we’ve got another half of tour to go through. You’ve gotta be sick of me.”

“Could never be sick of you,” she says, running a hand through his hair.

“and why’s that?” he counters.

“‘Cause I love you, that’s why.” That answer earns a kiss.

“Love you too, Rory,” he says with red stained lips.

| | | | |

Harry’s body becomes flush with Aurora’s as he backs her up into the tall hedge. His hands have a strong hold on her hips and Aurora’s given up trying to push him away, letting her hands sneak around his neck.

“Someone is going to find us, Harry,” Aurora giggles into his lips.

“Alessandro called the end of the day, everyone is packing up and leaving. Nobody will find us,” he rushes out so he can press another bruising kiss to her lips.

There’s something about an ancient garden and sneaking around through a maze of tall hedges that is so romantic and thrilling at the same time. The hedges rustles as the wind blows through them and birds chirp in the late afternoon sun.

Harry toys at the bow tied at Aurora’s waist and she squeals when she feels it come loose. She yelps his name as he kisses at her collarbone. Her hands move from his chest to her dress that is daringly close to fall open completely. She ties it quickly and Harry’s hands rush to stop hers.

“Stop,” she whines, “I don’t have anything underneath.” Harry pulls away immediately and groans at her confession. His jaw drops. “Don’t give me that look, I just don’t have a bra on. Don’t need one with this dress.” She kisses the dopey look off his face. His grip on her isn’t as strong so she takes the opportunity to push him against the hedges now. She laughs at the vision in front of her. Harry’s once perfect hair is a mess and his mouth is covered in Aurora’s red lipstick. She uses her thumb to try to wipe some of it away but has no luck. “I should have some makeup wipes in my bag,” she giggles.

“Don’t worry about that now, I’m not finished,” Harry says as he surges forward, connecting their lips together.

Their laughter fills the air of Villa Lante as they chase each other around the garden, sneaking kisses behind the tall hedges. Aurora doesn’t think she’s felt this carefree and joyous in years. She feels like a kid running around a park without a worry in the world and she’s happily sharing this feeling with Harry.

| | | | |

The last day of the shoot has to be Aurora’s favourite. There’s 2 suit changes and Harry looks even more like a prince with his rogue curl falling out of where the rest of his curls are pulled back by the crown. The animals on set today make Harry extra giggly and Aurora can’t help but laugh along with the crew as the small black and white goat that’s in Harry’s hands presses its nose to Harry’s chin, sniffing at his face. Harry’s face bunches up as he giggles. Aurora gazes lovingly at him.

Alessandro Michele comes up to Aurora at the end of the shoot and thanks her for her hard work and she thinks she could die right there. Harry’s strong grip on her waist is the only thing keeping herself upright. She’s admired Alessandro since he took over as Creative Director of Gucci. She thanks him up and down for the opportunity. The Gucci team sets up a small party to celebrate the end of the shoot with incredible wine and cheese boards.

From a few feet away Harry can’t help but smile as he watches Aurora mingle with the designers, photographers, assistants and the rest of the creative team. She looks like she’s in her element and she’s glowing. Harry can’t believe he gets to love this girl for as long as she’ll let her. He sure hopes it's for a long long time.

Harry and Aurora take a final stroll through the maze of hedges as the sun sets on the beautiful garden. Aurora tries to thank Harry for giving her this opportunity but he cuts her off.

“It might have helped a small bit that I’m in love with you,” Harry says with a wink, “but your hard work is what got you here. Alessandro hired you on Lambert’s suggestion, not mine.”

“Still, I wouldn’t be here if it weren't for you.” Harry tries to speak but Aurora won’t have it. “Just let me thank you, okay?” Harry nods as Aurora reaches up to kiss him softly. “I’m kinda ready to go,” Aurora shares as she trails her hands down Harry’s chest. Her hands land on the belt of his pants as she kisses him again, this time tilting her head to kiss him deeper.

“Okay,” Harry says breathlessly when they pull apart.

| | | | |

The next morning when Aurora wakes up she can’t put a finger on what she’s feeling. She’s not startled by the unfamiliar room she’s in because she can hear Harry’s slow, steady heartbeat where her head lays on his chest. She moves her body minuelty against Harry, snuggling in closer and is reminded of last night when her bare chest slides against his and his arms wrap tighter around her. A sigh leaves her mouth before pressing a light kiss to the skin of his chest that is nearest her lips.

“Just a few more minutes, Ror.” Harry’s voice is low and raspy. “Tired me out last night, need some extra sleep.” Aurora groans cause even half asleep, on a peaceful morning, Harry can be a menace.

She looks up to him through her lashes, his eyes still closed, his breathing still slow, his face soft. She recalls last night as she traces the lines of his tattoos on his torso.

When they get back to the villa Aurora pauses in the entryway as the door closes behind her. She inhales through her nose and lets the breath out through her mouth. Her fingertips are tingling but not in the way they normally do. Her whole body feels like this. Every surface of her body is tingly and Aurora’s heart is beating fast and she knows where she’s about to venture.

As she walks towards Harry, she hopes that he doesn’t ask her a question or expect her to talk right now because her voice is caught in her chest. She couldn’t speak even if she tried. She reaches her hands up to Harry’s face when she gets to him. Pulling him down to her, he obliges and kisses her lips. They kiss, standing there for as long as they both can stand it. When Aurora pulls away to catch her breath she meets Harry’s vulnerable eyes, his breathing uneven just like hers. She grabs his hand and leads him up the stairs.

It’s when she pulls her shirt over her head that Harry sucks in a breath through his teeth. Their eyes meet for a moment and Aurora hopes that he can read her just as he did that night in the bar. He dips his head down to press a kiss to her shoulder as he slowly pushes her black bra strap to the side. When he looks back to her Aurora reaches for the hem of his shirt. She kisses him softly on the lips before pulling his t-shirt over his head.

His shirt is tossed to the floor and lands somewhere unknown to either of them. Aurora lets out a short nervous laugh when she meets Harry’s eyes. Her eyes dart to his bare chest and her hands lightly trail down his skin. They pause at the laurels that are inked on his hips. The bottom of them is hidden under the waistband of his boxers and trousers. She hooks her fingers into the waistband of his black trousers. Harry has a hand holding the back of Aurora’s head, tilting it sideways as he presses kiss after kiss down her neck and across her shoulder and over her collarbone. He pauses his actions when he feels Aurora fumble with the button on his trousers.

“Ror,” he says softly, his hands going to her wrists to pause her actions as well. She looks up to him. “Seems like you’re better at getting me in clothes than getting me out of them,” he says with a light chuckle. Aurora lets out all of the air that’s in her chest through her nose, it’s an equally annoyed and frustrated release.

“Do you want me to take your clothes off or not?” There’s a hint of mischievousness to her tone.

Harry’s head drops back, a groan coming from the back of his throat. “Are you sure, Ror?” Harry’s voice is soft and serious, but it doesn’t lack compassion or love or lust, even.

Aurora’s chest feels hot, her cheeks flush and she nods because getting her voice to work right now is only going to draw this on longer. Harry carefully takes her head in his hands, the softest touch he’s had with her yet, and collides their lips. He only disconnects their lips for a moment to turn his head to the side to kiss her deeper. The next time he pulls away he speaks up, resting his forehead against hers.

“Rory, I need you to say it,” he kisses her swiftly, unable to bear the smallest amount of time not attached to her lips. “Need you to say yes, say this is what you want,” his eyes are pleading with hers. Aurora only nods as she swallows. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears and she’s sure Harry can hear it as well. His hands move to rest on her waist. Goosebumps arise all over as his rough, calloused fingertips dig into the bare skin.

Aurora closes her eyes, takes a deep breath. Her hands go to his jaw and she trails a finger along the edge of one side. “Yes, Harry, I want this,” she whispers. She looks him in the eyes as she tucks a stray curl back in its place. The green of his eyes is barely there, but still striking nonetheless. She tries to kiss the smirk off his face but when she pulls away it’s still there, dimple and all. “Will you let me take your clothes off now?” She asks, reaching back to the button of his trousers. Aurora doesn’t drop her focus to her hands and keeps her eye locked with Harry’s. She can’t help but mirror the joy on Harry's face.

It’s Harry’s turn to be speechless and he nods as Aurora continues her previous movements. She giggles as his pants come loose, the button not only sliding through the buttonhole but popping off the fabric completely. It bounces once on the floor before rolling away to a place neither of them care to figure out. They're both in fits of laughter.

Through giggles and smiles Aurora apologizes, “Sorry! I can sew that back on! I promise!” They only stop laughing when Harry takes Aurora’s face in his hands again and kisses her deeply.

“You can fix it tomorrow. We’ve got much more important things at hand,” he says between kisses. Aurora works his now unbuttoned pants over his bum and he helps her push them down so he can step out of them. All whilst kissing her again and again, he manages to move them towards the bed that they’ve been calling theirs for the past few days.

Aurora begins to work her mouth down the side of Harry's neck. She smiles into the next kiss at his collarbone when she can not only hear, but feel the low groan Harry makes as it rattles his chest. She feels Harry’s hands move from her waist to the front of her pants. Now returning the favour, he ceremoniously drags Aurora’s jeans off her.

She’s been here before with Harry, but anything that comes next is new territory. She wants it, the flutter at the bottom of her stomach tells her so. Her ever quickening heartbeat reminds her this is real and that she really does love the man that is worshiping her right now.

Aurora’s eyes follow his every move. They flutter when he places a soft kiss to the skin above the waistband of her underwear. His lips leave a heated path from there, up the center of her stomach and to her sternum. He sucks lightly at her collarbone before he kisses her on the lips again. Both of their chests are rising and falling rapidly, from the lack of oxygen because they can’t stop kissing or from the nerves that are coursing through the both of them, neither are sure. A combination of both most likely. Though the nerves are there, Aurora feels more confident than she ever has before.

She’s been naked and vulnerable with someone before, but never has she felt this. She feels like baring her entire self to Harry right now is the best moment of her life. She feels free and unashamed of the small marks here or there on her skin. The patch of hair she missed when she shaved her legs last doesn’t even cross her mind. The unmatching, probably ripped pair of underwear she has on doesn’t bother her. The stretch marks that cover her breasts, which she has hated her whole adult life, are nothing to be ashamed of and so she takes this new found confidence and reaches back to the clasps on her bra. As she unhooks them, she realises that her confindence and sureness in herself isn’t just because it’s Harry who stands in front of her. Yes, he is the one who has created the space for her to feel like this but she’s really here because of herself. She’s proud of who she is and all she is because she’s made progress, even in a short few months. Aurora will reflect back on this moment for years to come, regardless if her and Harry aren’t the same as they are now. The Aurora that left home to go on tour is not the same Aurora that is standing here now, pulling the straps of her bra off her shoulders.

When she really looks at Harry she has to give him credit. He is part of the reason she’s standing here. He’s taught her in a few short, crazy weeks that being vulnerable is okay. That sticking around and fighting for something is worth it. That letting go and being open to love is perfectly okay. She doesn’t feel the need to pretend that she’s comfortable. Not for herself. Not for Harry. She really is okay right now.

As the fabric of her bra hits the floor, Harry’s face shows nothing but love as his eyes dart from the newly uncovered skin, to her lips, to her eyes and back. His hands move from her hips, up the side of her body and graze the side of breasts. She lets out a shaky breath.

“I love you,” he reminds Aurora. “I love you so much, Rory,” he repeats.

“Harry,” she breathes out, her hands going to rest on his chest, smoothing over the skin before she reciprocates the gesture, “love you, too,” she rushes out. And then they’re kissing and Harry is guiding her down to the bed.

Northern lights and sunshine could never exist at the same time. It’s not possible in this universe. Except for right now, as Harry stares down at Aurora and Aurora back up at him. There’s nothing between their 2 bodies that can get in the way. He’s shining more than Aurora’s ever seen and Harry is seeing new colours. In a different world, their bodies melding together, would look like bursts of sunlight weaving through the bright colours of the Northern Lights. A sight that would surely stop anyone in their tracks.

The morning sun now shines through the gauzy white curtains and Aurora is pulled out of her thoughts as Harry lightly grazes his hand up and down her bare back. Goosebumps appear in the wake of his fingertips. She lifts her head up to look at him clearly. His eyes are barely open but the sun shining through the window makes the green of his eyes an almost silver colour with dark green edges. He smiles softly down at her. Aurora can’t help but smile back. She slides her leg all the way over his hips and presses their chests together, laying down on top of him. Harry pulls the crisp white sheet as she moves and leaves it low but covering their bottom halves. Harry wraps his arms around Aurora and hugs her to him. They don’t move for a long while. They spend the majority of the sunny morning passing kisses back forth.

Sunshine and the Northern Lights could never exist together, yet here in this villa too big for just the 2 of them, Aurora and Harry exist as one.

I really hope you enjoyed this part ! 💕 thank you sooo much for reading ! please reblog to share with your friends, it really helps out :)

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