#I don’t wanna tag the other two but yeah it’s the us and uk

[geisterland]

really wanted to draw west so here’s some doodles :3

[cali-holland]

Under the Stars- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: When you invite Tom and Harrison to go to a cabin in the woods with your old college friends, Tom devises a plan to finally confess his feelings for you. Little does he know, the cabin belongs to your ex-boyfriend, and he’s also seeking your attention this week.

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: slow burn (ish), swearing, sexual themes (jokes/references), the reader kinda gets sexually harassed (nothing actually happens), fist fight + some blood, tom being a simp

A/N: this was a nine month process, so i hope you enjoy :) also thank you to @duskholland​ for being so supportive and reading through this fic and editing it. love you hannah! + Also reposting this because the tags didn’t work the first time :/ and tag list will be in a reblog!

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist

*Moodboard is mine, pics used are not *

~~~

When you walked into Tom and Harrison’s house, you weren’t expecting to hear odd grunts coming from the living room. You’d heard many strange noises made in that house— a good amount of their sources were still unknown, but you’d never heard such aggressive grunts. For a moment, you considered slowly backing out of the house and knocking on the door. It would be easy to pretend like you didn’t have a key so you didn’t have to walk in on anyone doing anything gross in the other room.

But then Harrison walked into the entryway, smiling at you as a greeting, “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey,” You replied, closing the front door hesitantly behind you. You pointed towards the living room, “Do I wanna know what’s going on in there?”

Before he could reply, there was a loud bang from the living room, followed by a string of curses. Forgetting all worries of what may or may not have been the cause of the noises, you hurried into the other room with Harrison trailing behind you.

Tom laid on the floor, groaning in pain as he clutched his foot. Tessa, who had been checking up on her owner, popped up happily when she saw you, rushing over to greet you at your feet. Tom looked up at you and Harrison in the door, forcing out his best smile. You stared at the large tent that was currently taking up most of the space in the living room, questioningly.

“Why do you have a tent set up?” You asked. Tom hopped up off the floor, standing beside the tent.

“Well, our camping trip is this weekend, so I thought I’d make sure it’s still durable.” Tom said proudly. He put a hand against the tent in an attempt to be smooth, but the tent came collapsing down, making Tessa bolt behind you from the sudden loud noise.

“And he wanted to make sure he could actually set up a tent, which clearly he can’t,” Harrison stated, and Tom glared at him in response.

“Were you going to tell him?” You laughed, turning to the blond beside you.

“And miss the opportunity to see him struggle setting up a tent for forty minutes? No, I didn’t tell him.” He smirked, only making Tom more frustrated and embarrassed.

“Tom, it’s a cabin. You don’t need a tent unless you don’t want to stay with everyone else.” You explained. “I just said camping because it’s easier to call it that.”

“Fuck you, mate.” He grumbled to Harrison, flipping him off before starting to put away the mess of a tent. You stepped in to help him, and Harrison just laughed to himself before leaving.

“I really thought you would’ve known. Did you really think I’d invite you and Harrison to spend several days in the woods with me and my college friends in tents?” You joked, “Besides, I didn’t think you’d come if it was actual camping.”

Tom paused his movements, but you continued to undo the poles, taking no notice of his action, “Why wouldn’t I go if it was actual camping?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, looking at him with your usual charming smile, “You’re not the outdoorsy, camping type. You don’t exactly go out and rough it in the woods on the weekend, like Will or Tyler; you play golf with Harrison and your dad.”

While your words were well-intended and teasing, Tom couldn’t help but take them to heart. He took everything you said to heart.

It was hard for him to be so helplessly in love with you, his best friend (besides Harrison) from BRIT school, for the past few years while you were completely blind to it. Normally, he’d do little things to impress you because he still wasn’t sure if he wanted you to know about his feelings— if you knew, there was a chance you’d reject him, and Tom wouldn’t know what to do with himself if that happened. Recently though, he’s started to feel like his heart was going to explode if he didn’t tell you soon, but that didn’t mean he knew how to tell you.

So when you asked if he wanted to go on a camping trip with you, of course he said yes right away. His mind told him that, no, he really wasn’t the outdoorsy, “roughing it” kind of guy, but his heart told him it was a chance with you. He was a sap and thought that maybe he’d pluck up the courage to tell you how he felt under a moonlit campsite, maybe even the two of you could share a tent, maybe he could kiss you in the lake— god, did he want to kiss you.

That had all come crashing down when he’d realized it wasn’t a romantic camping getaway. You’d invited Harrison and a few college friends, friends that neither Tom nor Harrison had ever met. And there was one friend in particular who Tom never wanted to meet— Will, your ex-boyfriend. You two ended things mutually, but Tom couldn’t stop himself from feeling like he needed to compete against Will, especially when he discovered it was Will whose family owned the land you’d be camping on; Will who took you on hikes all around your college town; Will who taught you how to fish and how to kayak with the lakes nearby; Will who one time got bitten by a rattlesnake and sucked out the venom himself; Will who could climb any mountain and come back unscathed. Will was an outdoorsy “roughing it” badass fucker that Tom despised.

And now, you had just furthered proved that Tom was a delicate flower compared to the lumberjack prick that was Will. He didn’t care about being compared to Will’s best friend, Tyler, who (from what you’d told Tom) was in a serious relationship with your other friend, Jane. Besides Jane, the other person accompanying you all to the cabin was Rose, your best friend and Will’s sister. Needless to say, Tom was very grateful that Harrison was coming along too— he didn’t think he could handle a Will-centered week alone.

“We can just leave this for now. I know I promised you Nando’s before we leave.” Tom said, getting up from his spot on the floor.

“Are you sure? We can just get it on the way to the airport.” You said, looking at the tent mess before you.

“Come on, it’ll be fine.” He held a hand out to you and you took it, so that he could pull you up. Before you two could make it out the door, Harrison arrived downstairs with a loaded hiking backpack in hand.

“I know you’re not trying to sneak to Nando’s without me.” He said, and Tom glared at him from behind your back. Harrison was very well aware of Tom’s feelings for you— everyone was except for you, and he took every chance he could get at being a little shit about it, which included ruining quality time for Tom to spend with you.

The three of you left to grab your last meal in the UK before heading back to their house. Tom finished putting away the tent, and Harrison loaded up Harry’s car with your bags as well as his and Tom’s. Harry (through bribery from Tom) drove you all to the airport for the first step in your camping trip.

Since you went to school in the US, all of your friends would be meeting you across the pond. Will’s family cabin was located in Maine, so the flight wasn’t too bad for the three of you— though Tom wished it was longer so he could devise a more accurate plan to impress you this weekend. He had to prove that he could be the outdoorsy badass guy you wanted. He had to outcompete Will.

“Why would you have to outcompete him?” Harrison asked Tom after hearing his dilemma. Fortunately, you were getting the rental car for the three of you to make it to the cabin.

“Because it’s clearly a competition.” Tom stated, nervously fidgeting with his fingers as he looked over at you across the way. “She told me I’m not outdoorsy like Will- that makes it a competition and I have to beat him.”

As much as Harrison loved to see his friend fail at keeping it together around you, something felt wrong about telling him, ‘yeah, it’s totally a competition, so go beat up her lumberjack ex’. Instead, he tried, “I don’t think that’s what Y/N meant. You do golf more than you go camping.”

But Tom took no notice of his advice, “Just watch. I’m going to be the manliest man this weekend.”

“Hey guys,” You smiled, coming up to them, making Tom jump very unmanly-like in the process. “You ready to go?”

The journey to the cabin was a fairly long one. After a couple of hours of driving, you parked the car in one of those reserved parking lots off the side of the road. Tom and Harrison both looked around in confusion, spotting nothing but trees and a gas station.

“Why are we stopped?” Tom asked you as you got out of the car. Tom and Harrison followed you out of the car.

“We gotta hike in.” You replied. “The cabin’s down by the lake, so there’s no actual road to get there. It’s only about a mile and a half hike in. Be ready for lots of hiking. I think tomorrow we’re going to hike 12 miles.”

By the time you three got to the little a-frame cabin, it was already dinner time, which was great because that meant you three could sleep soon. The five hour time difference was already starting to hit. Before you could even step inside the cabin, your best friend met you with a bone-crushing hug.

“You’re here!” Rose smiled, stepping out of the hug after a moment.

“We made it.” You laughed. Your other friend, Jane, stepped up next to hug you. “I missed you two so much.”

“We missed you too.” Jane replied. You caught their eyes trailing over to Tom and Harrison behind you, and you remembered that they hadn’t met before. 

“Oh, girls, this is Tom and Harrison; guys, this is Rose and Jane.” You introduced the two parties with a smile. After a polite exchanging of handshakes, you looked at the two girls curiously, “Where are the boys?”

“Will wanted to get in a light swim before dinner.” Rose laughed, and Jane made her way back to the kitchen. “Come on, I’ll show you your rooms.”

Rose gave the three of you a little tour of the cabin. The front door had placed you all in a little entryway room with a simple, wooden staircase taking up most of the room; a fireplace sat beside the stairs with a small loveseat across from it. Besides a rather large bookshelf, it was relatively empty, but elegantly simple nonetheless. There were four doors downstairs, all intricately designed with the same light wood color as the stairs. The first door on the left was explained to be Will’s room, and the second was Tyler and Jane’s. The third stood as the main bathroom, as Rose described it. The fourth door led to Tom and Harrison’s room.

It wasn’t very big— neither of the rooms were according to Rose, but that was the a-frame style of a quaint log cabin. A bunk bed sat on the side of the room with a small wood dresser across from it. There was enough space for the two boys to coexist, and Tom was just grateful he didn’t have to bunk with Will of all people; he was glad he had his best friend with him.

The upstairs of the cabin held the open space of the kitchen and the main living room. With large glass windows covering one of the walls, the living room had a magnificent view of the woods outside, and three couches were set in place to overlook it. Under the couches sat a large bear rug, one which both Tom and Harrison eyed suspiciously at first before Rose laughed it off, reassuring them that it was fake. Behind the couches, the dining room was situated beneath a beautiful antler chandelier and set for eight places, completing the rustic vibe of the cabin. The kitchen, while it was small, seemed to be just as well put together as the rest of the cabin, complete with a breakfast bar. The smell of Jane’s favorite lemon salmon filled the air, making you even more excited for dinner.

Next was your own room, which was just past the kitchen. A queen bed was pushed in a nook with only the foot of the bed accessible. Unlike Tom and Harrison, you and Rose didn’t mind sharing a bed, which is why they got the smallest room downstairs. Right beside your bedroom door was another bathroom.

“You brought stuff for s’mores, right?” You asked Rose as you walked with her, Tom, and Harrison off the cabin’s porch to the nearby shed where they kept all of their hiking and lake gear.

“Yes, absolutely!” She eagerly replied, a happy skip in her step.

“S’mores are a real thing?” Tom questioned in disbelief.

“Of course! You can’t camp without—” You let out a shriek as you felt cold, wet arms wrap around your waist, picking you up and spinning you around. You laughed, immediately knowing it was Will. “Oh my god, Will! Put me down! You’re all wet.”

Will chuckled, setting you back down on the solid ground, “Well, if it gets you wet.”

“Fuck off.” You scoffed, smacking his chest playfully. It was then that you realized he was shirtless— shirtless and dripping wet from the lake and gloriously tan and somehow more built than the last time you saw him. Tyler, on the other hand, was still Tyler; still an attractive young guy, but not attractive to you and that most likely has to do with him dating Jane for as long as you’ve known him.

“Ty!” You smiled, hugging him tightly, not even caring if your clothes got wet and gross anymore. You’d just change later when you could.

Tom straightened up a bit, already feeling uneasy about Will’s presence. Will looked like the lovechild of Zac Efron and Chris Evans, with a hint of Scott Eastwood; he was perfect, there was nothing wrong with him. It made Tom question why you two broke up. Even though Tom knew you’d said it was mutual, he also knew it took a lot for girls to walk away from guys that look like that. Meanwhile, Harrison just bit his lip to keep from commenting on his friend’s ridiculous territorial issues. 

“So, you two must be Tom and Harrison.” Will held out a hand to them, smiling politely. Tom took his hand, trying to subtly shake it sternly as if to prove he was better than Will— childish, Tom knew it, but he already hated this guy with his six pack abs and perfectly white smile. Will didn’t back down though, squeezing Tom’s hand equally as hard. Noticing both guys tensing up, you looked between them awkwardly, having never seen either of them put on the tough guy act.

With introductions out of the way, you all trekked back inside the cabin. While Will, Tyler, and even you changed into dry clothes, Rose helped Jane finish dinner, leaving Tom to frustratedly rant to Harrison in their room.

“God, he’s so annoying.” Tom scoffed.

“He said two words to you.” Harrison stated, “Try to play nice. I don’t think Y/N wants you two to keep having a ‘my dick’s bigger’ contest.”

“But mine is and I know it!” He exclaimed, before realizing he didn’t know how thin the walls were- and how odd that implication was, “Whatever. He’s stupid. This trip’s stupid.”

Harrison was too busy laughing  to even attempt a response to his friend. Instead, there was a knock on the door, pulling both of them from their conversation. Tom opened the door and immediately softened when he saw you, clad in one of his old sweatshirts that he didn’t even realize you still had. It gave him a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t need to worry that much about Will this week.

“Nice shirt.” Tom commented with a smile.

“Thanks,” You smiled back, “I’ve actually been meaning to give it back to you.”

“What? Why?”

“Is dinner ready?” Harrison asked, cutting off the two of you and reminding you both of his presence. As if on cue, his stomach growled loudly.

“Yes, it is.” You laughed, almost embarrassed from forgetting why you had been at their door in the first place. You tugged on Tom’s hand, pulling him out of the room. Harrison grumbled something dejectedly, but you paid no mind to it. Tom sent his friend an apologetic look, though he made no attempt to make Harrison any less of the unofficial third wheel on the journey upstairs to the dinner table.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Tom how you sat beside Will, even if Tom got the free seat beside you. Harrison slipped into the seat next to him with Rose to his right. The dinner of salmon with potatoes, salad, and bread seemed simple enough, but it was still quite possibly the best fish you’d ever had.

“Did you get a bone?” You asked Tom, seeing him awkwardly moving his mouth like his tongue was fishing out a hard piece of salmon. Blushing from you calling attention to his struggle, he held up a napkin to cover his mouth, trying to spit out the bone without it looking too gross.

“Yeah,” He admitted sheepishly, muffled by the napkin.

“I thought you got them all out.” Jane said, looking at Tyler expectantly.

“Don’t look at me, that was Will’s job.” Tyler laughed as he used his friend as the scapegoat.

“Must’ve missed one.” Will shrugged, before joking, “You’re still welcome that I caught these.”

“You caught this salmon?” You said, “I thought you only did catch and release?”

“I still do, for the most part, but this salmon was too good of an opportunity to pass up.” He explained. Tom was already boiling with embarrassment, and now he had jealousy bubbling over- of course this perfect fish was caught by the perfect outdoor man beside you.

“So, Tom, Harrison, we were talking about going for a run around the lake tomorrow morning. Want to come?” Tyler asked.

“Sure. How far?” Harrison replied, and Tom nodded in agreement.

“The loop’s about five miles.” Will answered.

“Are you going to run with us?” Tom asked you, knowing back home in Kingston you’d sometimes join Harrison on runs. Tom wasn’t the type to just go out for a casual run like his best friend was, but he wasn’t about to back down from this.

“Nah, you two can keep up with the cross country runners.” You joked, “I’d much rather save my energy for the hike.”

Once dinner ended and no one choked on any more fishbones, you all migrated to the couches. Much to Tom’s chagrin, you sat in the middle couch between Will and Rose, while Tom and Harrison sat on the couch opposite a very cuddled up Jane and Tyler. The fireplace in the corner crackled, keeping the room comfortably warm. When Rose suggested you all play charades, the entertainment for the evening was decided, especially considering the cabin had very weak cell-signal and no television.

“What are the teams?” You asked, sitting dead in the middle of everyone with three friends to your left and three to your right.

“Let’s do 3 against 4, so you choose who you wanna be with, Y/N.” Jane suggested as Rose stood up to get a boxed set of charade cards from the game cabinet near the kitchen. You looked between the two sets of friends. You wanted to lean towards Tom, Harrison, and Rose, because the two boys were incredible at charades, and Rose was your go-to partner for Password at least.

“Come on, you know you wanna be with us.” Will teased, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“Just for that, nope.” You laughed and took his arm off you. You stood up from that couch and squeezed in between Tom and the arm. To make room for you and to mock Will, Tom casually put his arm on your shoulder and you made no effort to take it off.

Rose returned with the box of cards and the game began with you and Jane pantomiming first. The words ranged from silly ones like centipede to more inventive ones like lapdance; either way, you all were laughing and enjoying the evening. Tom was highly appreciative of the humor because more than once, you laughed so hard that you fell into him, clutching his knee or completely falling over into his lap. It wasn’t anything out of the usual for him to see you so effortlessly happy, but he enjoyed all the little touches.

“Okay, okay.” You breathed out, doing your best to compose yourself. You stood up from the couch with Tyler so that you two could read the answer and continue the round. Reading over the card, “Catch 22”, you began to think about what you could do to act out the card. As if it wasn’t impossible enough to describe it with words, you had to act it out. But then the lightbulb went off- you had a secret advantage and he was sitting right in front of you, as long as he could figure it out.

“Ready?” Tyler asked you nervously, and you nodded. Tyler started with the usual way of beginning: how many words and what it is. You immediately pointed at Harrison.

“Me?” Harrison spoke in confusion, and you nodded before pointing to your stomach, doing your best to act his death from the series.

“Catch 22?” Tom offered, and Harrison looked at him dumbfounded, still trying to connect how it was him as your main clue.

“Ah, thank god.” You smiled, cheering as he guessed it right. Tyler and the others sighed.

“How the fuck did you get that?” Jane questioned.

“Haz, here, was in the show.” Tom replied, proud of his friend. You were surprised by your college friends’ collective shock, but you were most intrigued by Rose’s reaction.

“Oh my god, I thought you looked familiar.” She said, impressed.

“Wait, you actually saw it?” Harrison asked.

“Yeah, I think I might have cried when you died.” She admitted, brushing a loose hair behind her ear, and that’s when it clicked for you- she was totally into Harrison.

“And you’re an actor too, Tom, right?” Will spoke up, casually taking a drink of his beer. You eyed him skeptically; he knew Tom was an actor. Back when you two were dating, you’d talk about your best friend’s accomplishments, so why was he now asking? Your only answer was it would clearly get a rise out of, at least, you, if not Tom as well.

“Yeah, only been in little indie movies. Nothing anyone’s heard of.” Tom played it off jokingly, causing you to smack him on the arm a little, your hand resting on his bicep.

“My mom loves that movie you did with Ewan McGregor.” Rose commented.

“Ah yeah,” Will laughed, “The one where you’re like 12.”

“I wasn’t 12, but thank you.” Tom replied sarcastically, and you could tell he was biting back a scoff. 

“Well, we’ve all seen the Marvel movies so you can brag a little about those.” You teased, making him blush.

“I know I cried when everyone was getting dusted.” Jane stated in a way to poke fun at Rose’s previous words.

“Never saw them.” Will shrugged carelessly.

“Yes, you did.” You corrected him immediately, and you felt Tom tense a little under your touch. While Tom liked that you were being supportive about this, he couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong.

Will acknowledged Tom’s clenched jaw and decided to press it a bit further, “Babe, if you’re talking about Infinity War, then, no, I didn’t pay attention.” He chuckled, “Don’t you remember we were in the middle of something?”

Tom wondered, at first, what he meant exactly. You dropped your hand from Tom’s arm and covered your face in embarrassment, but before you could comment, Rose let out a whine, “Gross, I was right next to you two.”

“Not like you’ve never gotten it on in a movie theater.” Tyler joked.

“Can we please not talk about this?” You groaned, getting up from the couch. “I’m going to bed. I’m tired.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Jane stated as she stood up with a yawn. You closed your door, escaping to the privacy of your room, not wanting to think about how your ex just told everyone about that night- in your defense, you’d already seen the movie before so you weren’t missing anything.

Tyler and Will followed after Jane, leaving Tom, Harrison and Rose as they cleaned up the few cards that were left out. Feeling the awkwardness radiating off of Tom, Rose delicately spoke up, “Will’s just being a dick.”

“It’s fine.” Tom reassured her.

“Did you really cry when I died?” Harrison asked her the question that’d been on his mind since the second she’d made the comment. They started talking about the show, and Tom took that as a sign to leave. He thought for a moment about knocking on your door and checking in on you, but then he realized it might be too uncomfortable for you to talk about. There were times, like tonight with charades, that Tom considered maybe you liked him back, based on all your little touches here and there, but then, with Will’s comments floating around his mind, his thoughts were plagued by the doom of the friendzone. Tom didn’t know if he’d be able to sleep tonight knowing that you and your annoying ex ‘got it on’ in the theater during his own movie- what if he was dying on screen but you were too enraptured in Will to cry like Rose had cried over Harrison dying?

Tom only had a few minutes to himself before Harrison came back into their shared room, asking him, “How’re you feeling about the run tomorrow?”

“It’s going to kill me.” Tom sighed, and Harrison shrugged before climbing into the top bunk.

“Should’ve been running with me.” He laughed, “It’s not even that far.”

“I haven’t run five straight miles since Jake nearly killed me at the gym.” He replied, tidying up his bag.

“Why are you cleaning?” Harrison asked, looking down at his friend. “Are you worried Y/N’s going to come into the room or something?”

“Shove off.” Tom grumbled. Harrison took off his sweaty socks that he’d neglected to remove before getting into his bed and threw them down at his friend. One missed Tom completely, and the other clung to his shoulder. “That’s fucking gross.”

“If you’re cleaning, then clean them up.” He snickered. Tom threw the sock back at his friend, but it missed and weakly fell to the ground. A knock came from the other side of the door, and Tom opened it, smiling when he saw it was you, his absolute favorite person on this godforsaken trip. While you looked rather cute in your casual summer pajamas, he frowned when he saw his sweatshirt in your hands.

“Are you returning it?” He asked, and you laughed.

“It doesn’t smell like you anymore.” You said quietly, hoping Harrison didn’t hear your words. You held it out to Tom, “I figured I can give it back to you for a time, and then steal it once it smells like you again.”

“Wait a second.” Tom took the sweatshirt from you and disappeared into the room, rummaging through his once neat backpack to grab out another sweatshirt. He handed it to you, “Maybe this could suffice for now?”

Smiling, you sniffed it a little before tugging it on, “Thanks. It’s so cold upstairs, I don’t know how I’d sleep without it.”

“You could always bring your own.” Harrison said from the top bunk. Tom turned and chucked the other sweatshirt at him. You rolled your eyes at his words.

“Watch it, Osterfield, or your mattress is going to end up in the middle of the lake with you still sleeping on it.” You playfully threatened.

“I’m quaking with fear.” He laughed, laying down on the bed out of sight.

“Well, I should go.” You told Tom, “Thank you for the sweatshirt. Good night.”

“Good night, Y/N.” He smiled softly at you. As you walked away, he slowly closed the door, pleased with himself and his choice in sweatshirts. He turned to finish getting ready for bed, just in time for Harrison to throw the sweatshirt back at him.

“I will kick you out of this room.” Tom grumbled.

“I’d like to see you try.”

You didn’t sleep well that night. Even with Tom’s sweatshirt, your room was unbearably cold, and it didn’t help that Rose snored. With only a few hours of sleep under your belt, you woke up the next morning to the sun streaming in through the large window behind the bed and Rose already up and out of the room. You padded into the kitchen, making yourself some tea with the rustic teapot that was set out on the counter. Spotting Rose and Jane standing out on the balcony, you made your way outside.

“Good morning.” You said through a yawn, coming to stand beside Rose.

“We were wondering when you were going to wake up.” Jane teased. You looked at your two friends quizzically, taking a sip of your steaming tea.

“You already missed part one of the gun show.” Rose joked, sitting up straighter to look over the edge of the balcony, “They should be back any second.”

“Oh God.” You laughed, remembering the boys and their run this morning.

“I know I’m with Tyler, but damn, Y/N.” She teased, and Rose nudged you playfully. “Here they come.”

Seeing motion through the trees, you looked over at the runners. It was obvious they were racing the last bit of the run, considering how triumphant Harrison looked when he arrived first with Will right on his tail. And then came Tyler, and finally Tom. There was probably only a few seconds between their arrival, but it was still amusing to spy the looks on their faces. They were all shirtless and glistening in a layer of sweat, and they hadn’t noticed the three of you on the balcony at all- not that you were complaining. You’d rather not have them catch you all checking them out so unabashedly.

“Look at that. 24 abs right there.” Jane let out a small sigh. While her comment was for all four boys, her eyes stayed trained on Tyler. Rose, on the other hand, had her eyes on Harrison’s figure, which you noted to tease her about later. But you, you couldn’t help but check out Tom’s bare torso- there was a reason you didn’t watch either Spider-Man movie with him- you always ended up a little too focused on his shirtless scenes.

“Enjoying the show?” Tyler called up to the three of you, a cheeky smirk on his face, as they all made their way up to the cabin. You could’ve sworn you saw Tom blush a little when he met your gaze before Harrison playfully shoved his friend, making Tom lose focus on you and shove him right back.

“Boys.” Rose laughed quietly to you. You bit your lip, nodding in agreement.

“I’m glad I didn’t miss part two.”

The boys made their way into the kitchen, seeking out some water and gatorade as you and the girls went back inside to greet them. The sweet smell of salmon from last night was gone, overthrown by the ever lovely smell of sweaty men.

“It smells like a gym in here.” Rose gagged in disgust.

“I would’ve gone for sweaty ballsack, but yours is much nicer.” Jane laughed.

“Janie would know.” Will teased, clapping Tyler on the shoulder as he drank from his water, making the other choke a little.

“So how was the run?” You asked Tom as he and Harrison came over to you, Tom’s bottle of gatorade almost gone already. The other four got engrossed in their own conversation.

“Just a small workout, nothing too bad.” He replied, brushing it off.

“He was dying.” Harrison stated, making you laugh. “I told him he’s got to run with me more.”

“Well, you won, Haz, so congrats.” You replied.

“How did you know we were racing?” Tom asked. His ears turned pink from thinking that you knew he came in last.

“The four of you act like teenage boys; of course you’re going to make a race out of a casual run.” You teased.

“We should probably go stretch before our muscles tighten up again.” Harrison said, already backing up towards the stairs. Tom made his way to follow him, and you spoke up.

“I’ll come with.” You offered, setting your mug of tea on the counter. You followed them downstairs and out to the patio, feeling like you might as well spend some alone time with your two closest friends.

“You two think you can make it on the hike today?” You teased, already seeing Tom walk a little funny.

“Yeah, yeah, we got this.” He reassured you, sitting down on the solid ground to start stretching his legs. You started to stretch with them, and Harrison looked at you funny for it.

“Why are you stretching?” He asked with a laugh.

“It helps with flexibility.” You shrugged, switching legs as they did, all three of you mirroring the same poses. “How was the lake?”

“It was nice. We weren’t exactly looking at it though.” Tom replied with a chuckle.

“I don’t know, you were going so slow, I thought you were.” Harrison joked and Tom kicked his foot out, hitting Harrison in the leg.

“It’s shit like this that made me believe you were racing.” You laughed.

“I don’t do long distance running. I like focusing on my abs a lot more.” Tom defended himself. You flicked your eyes down to his abs, nodding a little, but Tom was so focused on his stretching that he had missed your small action, whereas Harrison fully caught it. He laughed, sending you a wink, and you flipped him off. Tom caught that exchange though, “Did I miss something?”

“Nope.” You replied quickly, only making Harrison laugh harder, “He’s just being a dumbass. Onto hamstrings.”

The three of you laid down to stretch your hamstrings, and you heard Tom let out a small groan from beside you. “I can’t do this. I fucking hate leg day.”

“Need help?” You offered. Before he could protest, you were already on your feet. He held his leg up as high as he could, and you pressed on his foot to stretch his hamstring even more.

“What if I need help too?” Harrison pouted, even though he was stretching his leg just fine.

“Sorry, Haz, it’s just you and your hand.” You joked, making Tom laugh.

“I see how it is. Ha ha, it’s me and my hand, and Tom and your hand, Y/N.” He sarcastically replied, as you dropped Tom’s leg and he bent his knee for you to lean on his shin. You helped him to deepen the stretch through his leg.

“Someone’s jealous.” Tom said, before grimacing a little.

“Was that too far?” You asked, loosening your hold on his leg, not wanting to overstretch his hamstring.

“A little.” He replied.

“God, Y/N don’t be so rough on him.” Harrison piped in, still having no issue stretching on his own.

“Haz, if you’re going to be a pouty baby about not having a stretching buddy, talk to Rose. She was totally checking you out earlier.” You stated, trying to change the conversation off of Harrison’s unnecessary innuendos. You let go of Tom’s leg and reached for his foot to stretch his other hamstring.

“Wait, really?” He asked, dropping his leg to peer at you with a serious look on his face.

“Yeah, why would I lie to you about that?” You laughed, “Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her read a book, so I think she was lying about Catch 22.”

Flustered, Wide eyed and blushing, Harrison mumbled something about grabbing a shower before bolting off. You exchanged a curious look with Tom, but he followed after his friend.

You made your way inside after them and went to fix yourself another cup of tea. When you saw Will alone in the kitchen, you momentarily considered changing your mind and going to your rook, but it was too late, as he had already seen you.

“Want a cup?” He asked, holding up the coffee pot after he finished pouring himself a cup.

“No thanks.” You replied and made your way to the kettle.

“Enjoy the show earlier? Tyler and I started this new training routine that’s supposed to help with bulking up.” Will said. It took everything in you to not roll your eyes at his words.

“And how’s that working out for you?” You asked, not even trying to hide your disinterest. You still hadn’t forgiven him for his immature comments last night. Plus, the more you saw Will interact with Tom, the more justified you felt with your annoyance.

Will stepped closer to you. Slowly, he took one of your hands in his and pressed it to his abs, and you’d be lying if you said you couldn’t feel every part of his toned stomach. As much as you hated to admit it, you felt like you were falling under his trance again. “There’s more where that came from. Why don’t you come by my room tonight?”

He dropped your hand, and you were pulled out of your foggy state. You stepped away, turning away from him to continue getting yourself some tea. You felt his body envelope yours from behind. His head rested on your shoulder and his hands smoothed over your waist. Pressing a kiss to your cheek, he murmured, “I miss you.”

At his words, something inside of you snapped and you jolted away from his embrace, slapping his hands away. Firmly, you said, “I don’t miss you.”

Will left the room without another word, and you were left to ponder what the hell just happened as you stood alone in the kitchen.

It wasn’t until a few hours later that you all left on the hike, trailing through the towering trees to make your way to a nearby peak. You all stopped a few times for water and some food, and to even just enjoy nature. Between Jane’s ornithology degree, Tyler’s botany background, and Will’s forestry knowledge, identifying the different birds, plants, and trees around you was relatively easy.

“Can you imagine if we studied something environmental too?” Rose joked, nudging you in the shoulder as Jane mindlessly went on about the bird that had flown past nearly ten minutes ago.

“God, it would never end.” You laughed.

“What did you study?” Harrison asked Rose, making you look at Tom and roll your eyes at your friends.

“I’m a nurse.” She replied, and the two got swept into their own conversation.

“You sore yet?” You asked Tom, poking him in the side as you all continued the hike uphill.

“Me? Sore? Never.” He laughed. He shook his head to try to hide the slight hurt from the question. First, you didn’t think he was outdoorsy enough and now you think he can’t handle doing some mileage. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Oh sure.” You smiled at him. Tyler pointed out a specific plant as you all passed it, talking about the intricate properties of the shrub.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more confused about nature.” Tom mumbled to you quietly. Since you two were far enough behind Tyler, Jane, and Will, they couldn’t hear his comment.

“Don’t worry. I have no clue what he’s talking about either.” You reassured him before letting out a small yawn.

“Did you not sleep well last night?” He asked, looking over at you in concern.

“Someone was snoring a bit too loud for me to sleep.” You said, loud enough for Rose to hear. She stopped and spun around to face you, face red in embarrassment.

“It’s a nasal condition! You know how I get when it’s cold!” She defended. As much as she tried to sound angry, she still had a small smile on her face.

“Love you, Rose.” You blew her a kiss, laughing at her reaction. She and Harrison turned back around and continued their conversation about who knows what.

“I think Harrison’s got a nasal condition too.” Tom whispered, making you stifle a laugh to not draw attention back to the two of you.

“Rose doesn’t even snore that loud.” You admitted quietly, “Even with your sweatshirt, I was still too cold to sleep.”

“I can give you another one when we get back. You can double up.” He offered, “But it was pretty cold last night.”

“Thanks. I’ll probably take you up on that.” You smiled softly at him. “You know, I’m really happy you came.”

“I’m happy I came, too. Thanks for inviting me.” He replied, and you nodded in response. Tom paused after a moment, stopping his tracks to look at you with furrowed eyebrows, “Wait, did you not expect me to come?”

You looked at him in confusion, before answering, “I mean I did, but-“

“But I’m not outdoorsy, so you didn’t think I’d actually be here.” Tom grumbled in agitation, beginning to walk again quickly to catch up to the group. You ran up after him.

“Is that what this is about?” You questioned, your voice unintentionally raised, “That I said you weren’t the camping type back home?”

Harrison and Rose turned to look at the two of you, and Tom just bit his tongue to keep from exploding about the sensitive subject. He knew he shouldn’t have asked, but he just felt so inadequate with Will going on and on about trees and shit.

“What is going on with you?” You questioned with a huff of frustration.

“It’s nothing. Let’s just keep going.” Tom stated, shaking his head.

“I’m not going one more step until you tell me what the hell is up.”

“What’s the hold up?” Will called back when he noticed the stop in your hike. Tom went to step forward to continue the journey, but missed his footing on a particularly slick patch of leaves. 

A collective, concerned shout came from you and Harrison as Tom hit the ground. He groaned in pain, and Rose came to his side. All frustration at him slipped out of you as worry flooded your system.

“Tom, oh my god- are you okay?” You asked.

“I think I rolled my ankle.” Tom said, cradling his ankle in his lap.

Rose looked at it briefly, no noticeable swelling or bruising yet. “Can you stand on it?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He replied before pushing himself to his feet. He bit back a grimace, standing on his ankle as normal, and you didn’t seem to be the only one to notice it. “Let’s finish the hike, yeah?” 

“You’re not hiking on that.” Rose shook her head with a small laugh.

“I don’t want to hold you all back. I can manage it, really.”

“It’s fine. We’ll continue on. Y/N can lead you back.” Jane spoke up, a little smirk playing on her lips.

“I’ll go with.” Harrison offered.

“As the house nurse, I feel obligated to walk back with him.” Rose added, and you caught the blush that touched her cheeks.

And just like that, it was settled. You, Rose, and Harrison would walk back with Tom, who was doing his best not to limp, which everyone saw through. Rose and Harrison made conversation the whole walk back, while you and Tom just stayed awkwardly silent. By the time you all made it back to the house, he still hadn’t spoken to you. You went to put away your hiking gear and found Tom a few minutes later, sitting on the porch as he looked at the forest before him, an ice pack on his elevated ankle to help with potential swelling.

“I meant what I said.” You spoke up quietly as you sat in the chair beside him. When he just continued to look straight ahead and not physically acknowledge your presence, you continued, “I am really happy that you’re here, Tom. I didn’t say that because I didn’t think you’d want to come. The only reason I wouldn’t expect you to come is because you’re always busy. I guess what I really meant was that I’m grateful you were able to make time for me this week, especially because I know the countless other, more fun things you could be doing right now. It really means a lot.”

After another brief silent moment passed between the two of you, he looked over at you with a small frown on his face. “Why would you think I wouldn’t make time for you?”

“Like I said, you’re busy. You do one movie after the other, and I feel like we hardly see each other anymore. It’s,” You trailed off, searching for the right word, “comforting that you’d want to spend your free time with me.”

“You’re my best friend. Of course, I’d want to spend time with you.”

You knew his words were sweet and that he meant every single one of them, but you still felt a small, subtle twist in your gut.  Another unnatural silence fell between the two of you until Rose came outside like a true savior.

“We’re planning on making s’mores tonight, are you down?” She asked, a cheery smile on her face.

“I’m offended you’re even asking me that.” You stated, and she rolled her eyes at you. You turned to Tom, smiling, “You’re going to love them. Just don’t burn yourself.”

“Burn myself?” He looked at you as if you were crazy, making you laugh.

“Don’t scare him.” Rose teased, “Besides, my money’s on Harrison burning himself first.”

“I heard that!” He called from inside the cabin through the screen door.

Just as Rose was about to leave to go back inside, Tom spoke up, raising his hand a little, still confused, “How do you burn yourself on s’mores?”

Several hours later, he got his answer.

“Ow, fuck, shit, ow.” Harrison cursed, dropping his burnt marshmallow into the dirt.

“That’s how.” You laughed as Rose clinked her s’more against yours.

“How do you know when it’s ready?” Tom asked, eyeing the marshmallow at the end of his stick. He slowly rotated the stick in his hands just as you had told him to do.

“Golden brown are the best, but they’re tricky to make because you can burn them instantly, which is what Harrison did.” You teased your blond friend beside you before taking a bite of your perfect s’more and turning back to face Tom on your other side. “Burnt ones aren’t bad, they just have a more burnt flavor, obviously.”

“So is it ready yet?” He questioned, but he was looking at you not at his roasting marshmallow.

“No,” You giggled. You finished off your s’more with another bite and scooted closer to him on the log. You placed your hand on top of his on the stick, twisting it so that the marshmallow was a few inches above the flame instead of right by the firewood. “And you just keep rotating it. You can see there’s already a gold hue to it.”

You smiled, looking over at him to find him already gazing at you with a soft smile of his own playing on his lips. The light from the campfire made his brown eyes sparkle with specks of gold.

“It’s burning!” Jane exclaimed, and you quickly retracted the stick and marshmallow, blowing out the fire on the now burned marshmallow.

“Well, it’s golden on one side, but burnt marshmallows are an essential part of the s’mores making business.” You said as you passed the stick back to Tom. You gathered the two parts of a graham cracker as well as some Hershey’s chocolate and set it up for a s’more.

“I think I need help with this part.” Tom admitted with a chuckle.

“So you put the marshmallow here.” You pointed at the graham cracker topped with a piece of chocolate. He moved the stick to put the marshmallow in its proper position, and then you put the other half of the graham cracker on top. Grasping the two graham crackers with the marshmallow in the middle, you finished, “And now pull out.”

“Hah, pull out.” Tyler laughed at the innuendo through a face full of his double stacked s’mores. Tom did as told, his eyes lighting up in excitement when you presented him his very own s’more.

“Ta-da. It’s real rocket science, isn’t it?” You joked, and Harrison elbowed you, still grumpy that he had lost his first marshmallow and burnt his hand trying to catch it.

“Burnt and fallen marshmallows are just casualties of s’more making.” Rose said.

“S’mores have to be the thing I miss most about living here— the U.K. just doesn’t do camping quite as well.” You stated, shaking your head a little in disbelief.

“How could you miss s’mores more than us?” Will asked, a playfulness in his voice, but you could recognize the serious undertones of his words.

“I’d miss s’mores more than I’d miss you.” Rose teased, saving you from having to actually think of a response.

“Hand me a marshmallow. I’m ready to try again for a golden one.” Tom said to you, and you reached over into the marshmallow bag beside you, slipping him the soft treat.

“Good luck.” You encouraged him with a laugh.

Tom’s second attempt ended up burnt as well, and you gladly ate it while he made his third one. By the time it was golden brown and ready to be eaten, Jane, Tyler, and even Will had retired for the night.

“That tastes so much better not burnt to a crisp.” Tom said, impressed by his own marshmallow-roasting skills.

“Camping heaven.” You agreed, finishing off the s’more he’d burned earlier.

Rose stood up with a small sigh, stretching her arms. “I think I might head to bed.”

“Me too.” Harrison stated, getting up after her. Tom looked at him questioningly, and you bit your lip, giving Rose a teasing look. She rolled her eyes at you, smiling to herself as she turned to head towards the cabin.

Noticing how Harrison’s hand caught hers once they were a decent distance from the campfire, you called out to them, “Good night!”

“Night!” They chorused back.

“Haz and Rose seem to have hit it off.” Tom commented once they were inside. Your eyes drifted from the dying fire up to the starry sky overhead. 

“Yeah, they really have.” You nodded, caught up focusing on the twinkling lights above you. Quietly, you admitted, “I’ll never get tired of looking at the stars.”

“I bet your neck will.” He joked, making you shake your head.

“They’re just so beautiful.” You mumbled.

“Really beautiful.” You heard Tom murmur under his breath. Your eyes flickered over to him, noticing how he was definitely staring at you and not the stars in the sky. When he turned to face the campfire, your eyes diverted back up to the stars, trying your best to suppress how fast your heart was racing.

“I used to know all of the constellations too. Will and I used to camp a lot, and I’d just study the stars until I fell asleep.” You confessed, attempting to strike up a conversation to keep you from your thoughts. When Tom said nothing in reply, a small sigh escaped your lips, and your eyes trailed back down to Tom beside you. Staring right into the dying campfire, he looked deep in thought.

“What’s on your mind?” You asked him, nudging him a little with your shoulder.

“It’s nothing.” Tom shook his head, but his attempts to play off his thoughts didn’t work on you. After a moment, he spoke up, barely meeting your eyes as he did so, “Did you and Will really— you know— in my movie—“ he trailed off, not wanting to finish his question. He was already apprehensive about the answer, and yet he couldn’t help himself from asking.

“In Infinity War?” You asked, laughing lightly at his question, or lack thereof. Looking up towards the sky again, you replied, “Unless you count the fastest handjob ever, no, we didn’t.”

Tom was silent, making you look back over at him. His shoulders were shaking as he bit his lip, doing his best to stifle his laughter.

“Shut up.” You scoffed, playfully hitting his arm. “It wasn’t like you were dying in the scene or anything. You weren’t even on the screen.”

“I didn’t say anything.” He insisted, before breaking into a fit of laughter, unable to contain it any longer. In that moment, you felt complete tranquility. Tom’s laughter broke through the silence of the atmosphere, making your heart flutter in happiness. His eyes were shut, and you could count every crinkle by his eyes. With the fire illuminating his features just right, he was positively glowing. If you wanted any moment to last forever, it was this one. Tom settled his laughter, “Sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing, but it’s just-” He paused, and his smile faltered momentarily, “It’s a relief.”

“A relief?” You repeated before you could help yourself, and Tom realized his words.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, thinking on his feet of an explanation, “It would’ve been really awkward if I was dying, and you and Will- yeah.” He stopped himself short, and a comfortable silence overcame the two of you.

“How’s your ankle feeling?” You asked, not wanting the conversation to end. If it ended, then that meant the night was over and your precious alone time with Tom was over.

“It’s fine, now. Honestly, it didn’t hurt that much.” He replied with a bit of a nod. You watched as he sucked in a tight breath, “I’m sorry about what happened earlier on the hike. I got frustrated and a little jealous. I was so determined to prove that I could be like Will that I just ended up being a dick.”

His words took a moment to sink in, but you found a small smile breaking over your face as you understood the layers of their meaning. You reached out and touched his knee. Softly, you admitted, “You have no reason to be jealous over Will. I’d never want you to be like him. The main reason that I broke up with him was because, well, he’s not you.”

You could see Tom think about your words for a moment before, ever so slowly, he started to lean in. Tom’s lips seemed to fit perfectly with yours, tenderly moving in sync as you both caved into your suppressed feelings. With one hand cupping your cheek, Tom’s other hand moved to your waist, pulling you in closer to him. You paid no mind to the uncomfortableness of your position on the log, too lost in the kiss to think straight. For the second time that night, you wished that this moment would last forever.

But it came to a quick, bittersweet end as Tom pulled away. His face stayed close to yours, his breath fanning over your face. A smile crossed his lips, “That took us way too long.”

“Way, way too long.” You agreed. He went to pull you in for another kiss, but the sudden cold of the dying fire pulled you two back to reality. Almost reluctantly, you said, “I guess we should probably head inside.”

It was far too cold for either of you to want to stay outside without the comforting heat. Gathering the food and putting out the last of the fire, you two walked back to the cabin, hand in hand.

“Thank you for the s’mores.” Tom said quietly to you, aware that most likely everyone in the cabin was sleeping. He placed the last couple bags of marshmallows and graham crackers on the kitchen counter (the chocolate was all eaten long ago), and you made a mental note to take care of it in the morning. 

“Any time.” You joked softly. Tom leaned in to give you a quick, but just as sweet good night kiss.

As he made his way over to the stairs, he spoke up again, “Don’t get too cold tonight.”

“Good night, Tom.” You laughed lightly, turning towards your bedroom door.

“Good night, Y/N.” 

With one last exchange of soft, sleepy smiles, you both turned to go your separate ways.

When you entered your quaint cabin room, you were met with Rose’s snores, a sharp contrast to your favorite sound that was Tom’s laughter from moments ago. You quietly maneuvered around the room, getting ready for bed. A smile ghosted your lips as you tugged on Tom’s hoodie. The familiar warmth and scent enveloping you comfortably.

You waited for sleep to overcome you on the cold bed; it felt like hours (when really, it was probably only ten minutes) before you finally decided to get up. With a small sigh, you shuffled out of the bed. Maybe the couch would give you more peace than your shared room.

As you made your way out of your room, you heard a door downstairs open. Curiously, you peeked down the staircase to see Tom emerging from the bathroom, in nothing but basketball shorts.

“What are you still doing up?” Tom asked you with his voice just above a whisper. You silently made your way down the stairs until you were in front of him.

“Couldn’t sleep. The room hasn’t gotten any warmer since last night.” You admitted, subconsciously crossing your arms.

“Come here.” Tom slowly uncrossed your arms, taking one of your hands loosely in his. He led you to his room. The door creaked open and shed some light into the dark bedroom. Wordlessly, he brought you over to his bed and dropped your hand to shuffle the blankets.

“What about Haz?” You whispered as Tom slipped into his bed, laying sideways and as close to the wall as possible to make some room for you.

“It’ll be fine.” He reassured you. You slid into the bed, finding comfort under the blankets. You laid on your side facing Tom, and it was then that you realized just how small the twin bed was— you two were close enough to each other that you could feel his minty breath fan over your cheeks, which still made you nervous even though just ten minutes ago he’d kissed you.

“We’re never going to fall asleep like this.” You teased softly. Tom let out a quiet laugh, shuffling so he was flatter on his back, giving you room to lay in his arms. With your head pressed to his bare chest and his strong arms circling around you, you finally found warmth.

“You’re really warm.” You mumbled into his chest, snuggling into his embrace and letting your legs tangle comfortably with his. It wasn’t the first time the two of you had cuddled, but it was the first time the two of you have cuddled on a tiny bed and with him being shirtless.

“Makes me the best cuddling partner.” Tom mumbled, his chest shaking lightly underneath you as he chuckled. You hummed in agreement, a smile forming on your face.

“Do you two ever shut up?” You heard Harrison question from the bunk above you.

“Do you always have to ruin a perfectly good moment?” Tom replied, and you subconsciously snuggled deeper into his embrace.

“I better not wake up in the middle of the night to noises.” He grumbled. The bed shuffled as he flipped over in his bed to get comfortable.

“Haz, that’s just you snoring.” You teased. He muttered something incoherent and you whispered to Tom, “Let’s wait until he starts snoring and then move his mattress to the lake.”

“Deal.”

Unfortunately for you but luckily for Harrison, you drifted off quickly, listening to the sound of Tom’s heart beating underneath you. You couldn’t help yourself; he made for the best pillow and the best heat source.

The next morning, you woke up with a start, hearing a loud thud from right beside you. Blearily, you leaned over the edge of the twin bed to find the source of the sound; when you saw a groaning, half-asleep Tom on the floor below you, a fit of laughter overcame you. The blankets were falling off the bed, all tangled up in his legs.

“Did you fall off the bed?” Harrison asked, even though all three of you already knew the answer, and you looked up to see him peering over the edge of the bunk bed.

“It’s not funny.” Tom muttered, frowning in faux annoyance at your continued laughter.

You held your hands out to him, offering to help him up even though you were in an impossible position to really help, still laying in the actual bed. Teasingly, you asked, “You got an owie?”

Chuckling, Tom reached up and grabbed your hands, pulling you off the bed. You let out a yelp as you landed on top of him, in a similar position to just last night. Your legs subconsciously fell on either side of his to somewhat straddle him, and you lifted yourself up on the palms of your hands to look down at him properly, a smile etched on your face. The familiar intoxicating pull from last night returned; you almost forgot Harrison was in the room— key word, almost.

“Get up before I come down there and join in.”

And with that, you quickly got off of Tom, and he scrambled to his feet. As Harrison came down the bunk bed ladder, you and Tom put the blankets back onto the bottom bed. You pondered where last night left the two of you, and you weren’t sure how to approach the subject. You were clearly more than friends, but were you more than friends in front of the others?

“What’s for breakfast?” Harrison asked, cutting you off from your thoughts. 

Over the course of the next few hours, you tried to somehow be alone with Tom to talk things over. It felt odd how things ended last night— not a bad odd, but odd nonetheless. Between the guys going for yet another run and you all spending time at the lake together, it just seemed like the opportunity would never come.

“God, I can’t believe it took you that long.” Rose teased, a giddy smile on her face as she cut off your recounting of last night. The boys were outside chopping some firewood while you, Rose, and Jane prepared dinner.

Jane winked at you jokingly, “What was it like?”

“What was what like? The kissing?” You asked, and she nodded.

“We want all the details!”

“In all honesty, it was the best kiss of my life.” You admitted, the butterflies you felt last night returning at just the thought.

As the three of you continued to talk, coo, and gossip about the four boys outside, they were hard at work. The late afternoon summer sun was bearing down on them, and they had stripped away their shirts earlier. Tom decided very early on that he didn’t like chopping wood, even if Harrison was somehow worse at it than him. While Tom and Harrison mainly kept to themselves, Will and Tyler had their own conversations going, despite the others clearly within earshot.

“You and Jane— I don’t know how you do it. One girl for all those years?” Will commented, and Tyler laughed with a shrug.

“It’s been so long, I don’t know what I would do without her. Plus, she’s the best fuck I’ve ever had.” Tyler said crassly, making his friend laugh.

“Mine was by far Y/N.” He stated, loudly, as if to ensure that Tom would hear it. At the sound of your name, Tom and Harrison both began to listen in on the conversation.

“It’s been years. Surely, there’s been someone else.”

“Nope.” Will protested, stopping his work to lean on the axe handle, “She was supposed to come over last night, but she must’ve gotten lost.” Tom couldn’t stop himself from scoffing at his words. Hearing the sound, Will turned to face Tom, “Got something to say?”

“Yeah, I do actually.” Tom said, dropping the axe. Holding himself up straighter, he made his way closer to Will. Harrison hesitantly stepped closer to Tom as the brunet continued, “She didn’t get lost, she just had a better option.”

“Better option? You mean you?” He bit back. “Yesterday, you couldn’t even do a simple hike without hurting yourself, and you’re shit at chopping wood. You may think you’re hot shit in London, but this is my turf, movie star. I’m the one who gets the girl here.”

Harrison went to grab Tom’s balled fist, but he was too late as Tom had already swung, nailing the surprised Will right in the nose. Will responded quickly, throwing a punch back at Tom. Tyler and Harrison exchanged questioning looks, silently wondering if they should break up the fight or just let them go at it, but the pair decided the former was probably a better idea.

Aware of sudden commotion outside, you, Rose, and Jane all rushed to the balcony, wondering what could possibly be happening. The fight between Tom and Will was ending as Harrison and Tyler both successfully pulled their respective friends away from the other. Even from the distance, you could see the new bruises on Tom’s face and Will’s bloody nose; it was most likely broken, but you didn’t have it in you to care. The boys were unaware of you and the others, until Harrison looked up at the balcony. He gave you a sad smile, and Tom was next to look up. Ashamed, he didn’t dare to meet your eyes and, instead, grabbed his shirt from a nearby log and trudged his way down to the lake.

Your eyes flickered to Will, and a pit of anger flamed inside you. Just by the look on his face, you didn’t even need to question who was the antagonist. Not bothering to say a word to Rose or Jane, you marched downstairs and out to where Will, Tyler, and Harrison remained.

“What did you say to him?” You questioned Will angrily. 

“Nothing he didn’t already know.” He replied nonchalantly.

“That’s bullshit, Will. This is all just bullshit. Every chance you get, you bring up something to antagonize Tom and embarrass me. And, every time you do that, you just remind me that you’re half the man Tom is.”

“You’re acting like I was the one to start the fight. News flash, princess, your man threw the first punch.” Will said, bitterly.

You stepped closer to him, your eyes hardening, and you swore you saw fear flicker in his eyes. “Believe me, if Tom hadn’t broken your nose already, I would break it myself.”

Without another word, you turned on your heel and headed down to the lake. You knew they were all watching you-- Harrison, Tyler, and Will from the ground and Rose and Jane from the balcony. The sun was already starting to line the tops of the trees across the lake, and you felt your anger slowly dissipating as you saw Tom sitting on the dock. With his legs swinging off the edge, he looked at peace, but you knew him better than that; a storm was brewing in his head.

You didn’t say anything, and Tom made no effort to look away from his hands in his lap as you approached. Silently, you sat down right next to him at the end of the dock. Now that you were beside him, you noticed the bruise forming on his eyebrow and the cut on his lip. Will definitely got a few good shots at him, but you could tell Tom had gotten him worse. Your eyes trailed down to his hands; his knuckles were red in agony. Slowly, you reached your hand out to grab his injured one.

“It doesn’t hurt.” Tom mumbled, but you could tell he was holding back the truth. You tenderly placed a kiss on each of his red knuckles before intertwining your fingers.

“Wanna talk about what happened?” You asked him quietly, fearing if you spoke too loud the fragile moment would somehow be ruined.

“He was talking about you like you were just a good fuck and nothing more.” He replied, his voice just as soft as yours.

You couldn’t help but smile at him, your heart fluttering at the thought that he was defending you. You let go of his hand and turned to properly face him. The smile never left your face as you cupped his face in your hands. Confused, Tom asked through a laugh, “What are you doing?”

You kissed his bruised eyebrow before responding, “Well, I’ve got to kiss it better, don’t I?”

“I think you missed a spot then.” Tom pointed to his lips with a cheeky grin. You pressed a chaste kiss to the cut on his lip, before teasingly pulling away. You didn’t get far as Tom’s hand went to the back of your neck, bringing you in for another, deeper kiss. Caught up in the moment, you somehow forgot about his cut; it wasn’t until you nibbled on his bottom lip, accidentally catching the cut, that you remembered and Tom pulled away with a quiet groan.

“I’m sorry.” You said through a laugh, though you were still genuinely concerned about him. Your fingers traced lightly over the agitated cut.

“It’s okay.” He reassured you. One of his hands trailed up your arm to your own hand, and he brought it to his lips, kissing it just as gently as you had kissed his knuckles. “You’re cold.”

“Guess my personal heater isn’t working.” You teased.

“Come here.” Tom beckoned you closer to him. You slid into his side, snuggling into his warm embrace. With his arm hanging around your shoulders, you slipped your fingers through his, smiling at the ease of it all.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” You mumbled, looking at the beauty of the lake and the sunset before you. It was like a scene from a painting, a scene you wanted to memorize forever.

Tom pressed a kiss to your forehead, pulling you in closer to him. “We can stay here as long as you’d like, darling.”

[itsallyscorner]

Play Me A Song

Paring: Tom Holland x fem!reader

Summary: This is based off the video of Tom playing guitar that he posted on Instagram:) Tom facetimes you to help brighten up your day.

Warnings: none

A/n: Not me using fan fiction as a coping mechanism for my stress, yet ONCE AGAIN.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

✧───── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧

“Hellooo, gorgeous girl!” Tom cooed as his face popped up onto your phone screen.

You let out a nasally giggle, the side of your face snuggling deeper into the pillow Tom would use when he was over at your house.

Tom tilts his head at the phone, a hint of a smile on his blush colored lips. The action caused his mop of chocolate brown curls to slightly bounce, catching your attention. You longed for the feeling of running your hands through his soft hair. You missed the way it felt between your fingers and how it would make Tom nuzzle closer to you.

“How was your day? You sounded a bit upset on the phone.” He checked in, voice soft and sweet, yet full of concern. His brows furrowed, causing a wrinkle to form between his brows.

You breath in, smelling the hints of him on your pillow. He was miles away, FaceTime allowed you to see and talk to him, though it wasn’t the same as him being beside you. If you were together right now, he would probably envelop you with his protective arms, pull you into his warm chest, and press kisses all over any bit of your exposed skin. His curls would tickle against your neck while he buried his head into the small space between your neck and shoulders—though you wouldn’t mind the tickle because it would remind you that he was there with you.

You sighed, “Today was a rough day. My professors have been piling work on us and I got called into work on my day off. I haven’t even gotten to start that research paper for class—I’m just so burnt out. I’m tired of trying, Tommy.”

Tom pouted, bringing the camera near his face to feel closer to you. He only felt the heat of his phone screen against his face, but he could still feel the light vibrations of your voice through the phone’s speakers. He placed the speaker of his phone slightly atop his chest, so he could feel the rhythm of your words against him. It reminded him of the days you two would cuddle after the both of you had long days at work. You would tell each other about your days and bask in the feeling of being in each other’s arms. He missed the feeling of being close to you.

“I know you have a lot of work to do, but you need to give yourself breaks, darling. And don’t tell me that you don’t need a break, you’re human (y/n), there’s only so much you can do in a day.” He began. Tom knew how you could get when college got overwhelming. Sometimes there were weeks where you would throw yourself into work, with no sleep, minimal food, and too many cups of coffee. He adored the diligence you had for your education, he wished he could’ve had that when he was still in school, but he wanted to make sure that you were taking care of yourself.

“Listen, you got this, I know you do. You’re the most intelligent and hard working woman I have ever met in my life. There’s nothing you can’t do, because I know, one way or another, you’re gonna find a way to do it. You always do. I just don’t want you to forget to take care of yourself. I know your education is important, but so are you.” He finished, a small smile forming on his lips. You hum in response, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself Tommy.”

What you say seems to reassure him, his shoulders visibly loosened up and the smile on his face grows a bit wider. Your own lips turn up on their own, reciprocating his smile.

“How about you, how was your day?” You ask him. Tom sits up and leans against his headboard.

“Well they’re still renovating the house, so Harry and I decided to rent out a place not too far from mum and dad’s. We actually had lunch with them, I got to see Tessa—gosh, I wish you were here right now. Tess was bouncing all over the place and giving everyone kisses, you would’ve loved it. And Paddy! He’s gotten so much taller since I’ve last seen him, and his voice keeps getting deeper, it’s actually embarrassing for me to be beside him because I’m older and I sound like I’m the one going through puberty.” He rambled, one of his hands making gestures and his face making expressions as he spoke. You loved the way he could just go on about a certain topic, especially when it came to his family. As sad as it was to see him leave for the UK, you were also happy because you knew he’d get to see his family.

He continued to talk about his day until his leg bumped into something, causing a hollow thump to emit from the object.

“What was that?” He leaned forward, the sound of his sheets rustling as he moved to grab the object filling your speakers.

“My guitar.” He grunted, holding the instrument up. “Remember, you got this for me for my birthday!” He proudly reminded you. You had gotten him the Ed Sheeran edition Martin Guitar after he had been going on and on about wanting to learn how to properly play the instrument. At the same time, he had a little obsession with Ed Sheeran and his music, so when you saw the guitar in the shop, you thought why not? You knew he would love it.

You fondly chuckled at him, “Yeah I do! You even promised to write me a song one day after you opened it.”

The last part of your sentence caught his attention, “I will write you a song one day, I’m very serious about that promise, love.” He pointed at you.

“Oh, are you?” You tease him.

“Yes, I am. In fact, ever since I’ve gotten back home, I’ve been practicing again and I’m doing much better.” He confidently told you.

“Can you play me a song?” You softly ask him.

“I can play you ‘Grow as we Go’ by Ben Platt. It’s the song I’ve been practicing.” He placed his phone against a pillow, using it as a stand. He placed the guitar in his lap, positioning his fingers on the frets and strings of the guitar.

“Yeah, play anything. I just wanna hear you play.” You mumble, your voice coming out in a muffle against Tom’s pillow.

“Just a warning, it’s probably not that good.” He mentions, shooting you a playful look.

“I don’t care.” You smile. He starts to softly strum the opening of the Ben Platt song and you couldn’t help but smile. He looked away from the camera, trying to focus on the notes and giving you a good look at the side of his face. The light shines part of his face, leaving the features you can see dark in the shadow, though it didn’t stop you from making out his gorgeous brown eyes. His long fingers move fluidly along the strings, creating a sweet melody on the guitar.

He stumbles a bit, making him whisper “Bollocks.” The little hiccup didn’t stop him from playing and so he continued to strum the guitar. You decided to stay quiet, letting him be in the zone. He messes up again, this time saying “bollocks” louder than the first time. You see him slightly shake his head as he regains his focus and places his fingers on the proper strings again.

You fondly watch him as he play, admiring the man you call your boyfriend. His fingers twitch on the string causing him to pause. He sucks his teeth, a bit of a frustrated grin on his face.

“Mmm.” He looks at you before turning away, “Okay.” He plays again, brows furrowed together in concentration as he tries to play the part of the song his keeps messing up on. You couldn’t contain the giggle that came out of you when he cringed at the sound the guitar made when he tried to play past the note. He pauses looking at the ceiling and tries to figure out the next notes.

“Alright, last time.”

“You’ve got it.” You encourage him. Your words give him some confidence and he shoots you a sweet smile. He readjusts the guitar in his lap, this time keeping his eyes on the strings as he plays. He strums the song again, starting off slow then slowly getting faster. Though his pacing was off by a bit, the song still sounded great nonetheless. You were thoroughly impressed.

He stops playing sitting back against the headboard, “I don’t know why I speed up though. I don’t know why I decide to do it so quickly.” He says into the camera.

You laugh, “It still sounds great though, I really enjoyed it.”

Tom tilts his head at you, teasingly squinting at the camera, “Even with the amount of times I kept stopping?”

“Yes, even with the amount of times you kept stopping.” You laugh, adjusting your phone. Tom puts the guitar aside and grabs his phone. He lays back on his bed, his head resting on his pillow and his curls sprawling out on the cushiony white surface. One of his hands rest behind his head as he stares at you.

“I’m gonna keep practicing. So the next time I see your beautiful face I can serenade you with a song and my guitar.” He muses, a lazy grin on his features.

“That sounds like something out of a chick flick.” You snort. He shoots you a playful glare, “Shut up, you love it.”

Tom knew you were a sucker for chick flick gestures. Kissing in the rain, watching the sunset, you name it.

You sigh, scrunching up your nose, “Yeah, I do.”

“But only from you.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

🏷Tags ↴

*if there is a line through your blog, tumblr won’t let me tag you:(*

Tom Holland Tags

↪︎ @lovableparker @aprettyfleur @sunwardsss @dummiesshort @thotforcriminalminds @cuddlykoala101 @itstaskeen @whoslili @white-wolf1940 @tomsirishgirlx @roseke @kaylans-imagines @spideyspeaches @slutforsebstan

General Tags

↪︎ @quxxnxfhxll @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @thegirlwiththediary @agustdowney @bi-lmg @rqmanoff @sesamepancakes @stardustofreading @dracoswhore007 @amourtentiaa @alyssathesoftie

[curryaboo]

— hiii! i was tagged by @banglatown @bengayli @jentlemahae @chameli aaand @/minteas to do this “get to know me better/20 questions” tag!! thank u so much beauts!! <3<3<3<3<3

🪁 what do you prefer to be called name-wise?

rao is absolutely fine!! <33

🪁 when is your birthday?

oct 13 :) i share it with some,, prominent people in popular culture and politics which aren’t rlly MY personal faves but wtvr it just goes to prove i’m the superior oct 13 baby !

🪁 where do you live?

the uk :<

🪁 three things you’re doing right now?

answering these questions, sorting out some spotify playlists in between answering these questions & casting my eyes between lines of james acaster’s classic scrapes and my phone (sunny @/amarakaran mentioned the book on one of her tag games n very kindly gave me the link to it and i jumped str8 to reading it! u know you’ve watched too many things featuring james acaster when u now read his book in his exact voice :/)

🪁 four fandoms that have piqued your interest right now?

bbc ghosts (ppl have some amazing theories n opinions surrounding it but i would not advise looking up the tag on here and sorting thru recent god bless youse but there are some awful takes there) aaand idk ig a range of kpop groups but i don’t rlly participate in the fandom sides of things anymore (and i’m not consuming a lot of new media or at least keeping up to date with the media that i do to label myself as being interested in being part of the fandom)

🪁 how is the pandemic treating you?

icl now that i’m seeing it in retrospect, it’s been cruel in the sense that it’s taken a lot of important things away from me (my last two years of high school for example i’m rlly bummed abt that) & stunted me in some ways but regardless i’ve learnt a lot about myself and my friends & family and yeah i’ve learnt to cherish myself and my loved ones all the same :)

🪁 song you can’t stop listening to right now?

boy am i glad this question is here bc since yesterday ? maybe i’ve been listening to gal mitthi mitthi endlesslyyy i think my brain chemicals recognise that we haven’t been to a wedding for the past 2 summers so it tries to fill the void by fixating on this one wedding-y song 💔💔

🪁 recommend a movie

PLS if u haven’t already , pls watch assassination nation bc i need someone to begrudgingly revel with in the absolute shit show pisstake of a movie that this is . (as a side note: my soul will not know peace until kennie jd does a video on it) on a more serious side, english vinglish is one of my most favourite films 10000/10 recommend pls go see it if u haven’t it’s an absolute warm hug of a movie <3

🪁 how old are you?

18 :)

🪁 school, university, occupation, other?

gap year babieee my soul is just wondering the place rn

🪁 do you prefer hot or cold?

cold !!

🪁 name one fact others may not know about you.

uhmm i lived in bangladesh for about 9-10 months when i was abt 4 and it was so amazing i miss it very much :’]

🪁 are you shy?

yes quite shy :} but i will always put effort into getting to know someone or initiating a convo !!

🪁 do you have any preferred pronouns?

i was in turmoil over them rlly but she/they is what i’m comfy with rn ! :D

🪁 any pet peeves?

other than some obvious ones, when ppl open things like crisps packets upside down,, that disgusts me truly

🪁 what’s your favourite “dere” type?

i would be a liar if i said i wasn’t biased towards a good bakadere but not too much that it annoys me lmao

🪁 rate your life 1-10. 1 being really crappy and 10 being the best you could ever be.

hmm rn it’s maybe a 5?? i’m grateful for so many things but there is def a lot of room for improvement :] (actually i just got on a 3 month free trial for spotify today so that just bumped the 5 up to a 6 😌)

🪁 what’s your main blog?

this one right here jaanoo.tumblr.com !!

🪁 list your side blogs and what they’re used for.

i don’t have any but i’ve been thinking of making one for aesthetics or like future references ??

🪁 is there anything you think people need to know about you before becoming friends with you?

uhmm again i am quite shy teehee™️ imo there’s a noticeable difference between when we were yk just friendly towards each other vs when we actually become friends and i’m more comfortable with u . that’s not to say that i was being fake in the earlier instances of u knowing me, i was just a lot more reserved :) i’m also one of those *is online 24/7 but gets virtual interaction burnout every 2 hours so postpones replying to ur message to 3 days later* which sucks skfjdsj but yeah if there was anything that i’d need to know about YOU it’d be if u had any dietary requirements bc i love baking for my friends <333

ok now i’m gonna embarrass myself more than i already have & tag a lot of ppl bc i’m super nosey like that and want to know my mutuals’ answers to these 🥸 ofc u can absolutely ignore this and not want to do it we’re not under any contractual binding here <33 @allenoraaa @okhag @watermlon @gayanese @letteredwingsmain @theropoda @holyself @txtzy @creatures2010 @junqhwans @mistblush @snsdyuri @waterz @derelicthousefootage @killuaology @staycverse @amarakaran @tendermachines @shahrukh-khan @peachysara @firesigns @postmoderncaricatures @horrormanga @iqraars @123dream @sunmisbf @avisachi @bengaligirlfriend @morksuns @czennie-on-top @markvibes @joppin @nyuly @shin-jiyoon @99lover @mithaai @chamelis @thefinalgirlz @nikolailantsovswifey @mehendi @yerification @oneustual @singinginthecar @yejiswife @lovedsoup @mangopickled and uhh tumblr’s not letting me annoy tag anymore ppl so if u wanna do this and ur not on the list (ur in my heart 💕 and in an ideal world where tumblr automatically tags all my mutuals 😑) u can say i tagged u if you’d like!! ^_^

[etoileholland]

Why must I meet you in a secret rendezvous?

@rosieholland​ asked “Hey I love all your imagines! Maybe you could do one where the boys are stuck at home during quarantine but Harry’s best friend y/n is staying with them. And Tom and y/n and secretly start dating and don’t say anything because they don’t know how Harry will feel about it.

Pairing: Tom x female reader; bestfriend! Harry

Warnings: a lil argument, I think that’s all

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: thank you so much for requesting this, and I really hope you enjoy! As always, requests are open, and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

It was a dangerous game to sneak around your best friend’s back, especially since you weren’t very good at keeping secrets.

You and Harry were nearly inseparable, and it seemed as though when someone saw one of you, then the other was somewhere nearby. When he began to work on his short film project and needed an actress, he called you first. You had known Harry for almost two years, and you met over what you call “the frozen yogurt debacle”. This needs no elaboration since it’s not important to the plot, but it’s important to note that a terrible shared experience can bring two people together.

A week into filming, it was announced that the UK would go into lockdown, and that meant filming had to be postponed. Since you spent more time at the Holland residence than your own, Harry asked if you would quarantine with them.

Naturally, spending so much time together with people for a few months would make it so that you get very comfortable around everyone.

The boys knew that you were physically affectionate, so no one batted an eye when you were cuddled up next to someone. Most of the time you were always with Harry, or sometimes Sam, and occasionally Tom.

That’s why no one suspected that you and Tom were secretly dating, especially Harry. You had vowed to keep it a secret from him because you didn’t want him to get mad at you for dating his brother.

Sneaking around was quite fun though, and it was becoming more and more like a game.

“Baby” you trailed off, moaning as Tom trailed kisses down your neck. You were both in his bedroom with the door locked, trying not to make any noise. Harry’s room was right on the other side of the wall, and it was a dangerous game to be making out in Tom’s room.

“Love, I need you-”, he placed a kiss on your shoulder, biting lightly as you moaned, “to be quiet.”

“You’re making it quite difficult.” You breathed back and he let out a breathy laugh.

“Good.” He kissed you deeper, and you heard Harry say something from the other side of the wall.

“Tom.” You were trying to untangle yourself from him, but he just kept pulling you closer. “Harry said something.” You managed to sit up, and Tom just pouted.

“So? He’s probably playing fifa or something.” He said, lifting his head slightly to kiss you on the lips.

“What if he knows?” You asked and he just shook his head.

“You’ve gotta tell him eventually. As much fun as it is to sneak around, you should be honest with him. He’s your best friend.”

“And he’s your brother.” You replied. “I don’t know, I guess I don’t want him to hate me for being with you.”

“I really doubt he’ll hate you, if he really loves me then he’ll be happy for me being with someone as lovely as you.” He stated and you nodded.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. Now if you’ll excuse me,” you cupped Tom’s cheek with your hand, placing a light kiss to his cheek, “I did promise Harry that I would bake cookies with him.”

“Alright darling, cuddle later?” Tom looked at you with wide, puppy dog like eyes and you let out a small laugh.

“Of course, see you later, secret boyfriend.” You whispered while holding up finger guns.

“Back at you, secret girlfriend.” He winked as you quietly left the room.

——

“Earth to Y/N, why are you so distracted?” Harry waved his hand in front of you, gently slapping your cheek. “What is going on in that pretty little mind of yours?” He smirked as he let out a small laugh.

You two were supposed to be baking some cookies, but you’ve been lost in your thoughts for the duration of the activity.

“I’m just thinking about how in Italian, when you want to describe a loving boy with a good heart, you say “è buono come il pane” which literally means “he’s as good as bread” and I think that’s beautiful.”

“Actually, yeah that is beautiful. Would you describe me that way?” He looked up from the cookbook and you nodded. “Yeah of course, they must’ve had you in mind when they came up with that term.”

“Aw gosh I love you.” He put his hand over his heart and smiled, “but really, what are you thinking about? Hmm?” He prodded and you felt yourself already start to panic. He took a long drink of his water bottle, while continuing to stare at you.

“Okay fine, I was thinking that the guy who’s in the “Adam.” vine and the “hi, welcome to chili’s” guy are not the same person, but twins and I don’t know what to do with this information.” You rambled and Harry choked, gasping for air.

“Girl, you have got to use your one braincell for something more important than that. You’ve gotta be kidding.” He said but you shook your head no.

“Dead serious, why would I lie to you?”

“I don’t know, sometimes you don’t always say everything.”

“What do you mean by that?” You inquired and Harry remained silent.

“Nothing.” He choked out the word, and began to stare straight ahead. “Anyway can you just pass me the vanilla?”

—

“We can’t continue to do this anymore.”

A few days had passed since the baking incident, and you were convinced that Harry knew about you and Tom. You two were making out in the hallway closet, since it was one of the furthest points away from Harry’s bedroom, and far enough away from the living room so no one would hear you. You had begged Tom to not show any affection in the main parts of the house so that you wouldn’t get caught, so you two often ended up here.

“Whoa whoa, what do you mean by that?” His eyes scanned your face, and he rubbed your arm as you stood there silent.

“Baby please say something, it’s killing me. What do you mean we can’t do this anymore?” He whispered.

“I can’t sneak around behind my best friends back anymore, Tom. Okay? He’s gonna find out and he’ll be mad and I don’t want that. I don’t want to lose either one of you but if I had to choose-” you stopped yourself, and Tom looked at you with wide eyes.

“Finish your sentence.” He insisted, but you shook your head no. “I don’t want to finish it.”

“Say it.” He pleaded, and you looked down so he wouldn’t see a tear escape your eye.

“Say it!” He screamed and you flinched.

“I didn’t want to choose, but if I had to pick then I would pick Harry, alright?” You choked out the last word, and took a deep breath before finishing your thought. “I want a relationship with you but just because I want it, it doesn’t make it right. I love being Harry’s friend, and I don’t want to jeopardize our friendship just for a relationship with you.” Tom backed away from you, speechless as he reached for the door handle.

“Tom I’m sorry, just wait one second.” You grabbed his hand and he stood there, waiting for you to break his heart again.

“Let’s not make things weird between us, yeah? Then everyone will know for sure what happened.” You stated.

“Right, because now we care so much about what others think.” He added as he left, closing the door and leaving you in the closet alone.

You knew this day would come, and you braced yourself for it, so when it crumbled you were prepared for it. You just felt numb, and the shock almost hasn’t registered yet. You left the closet and walked into the living room, where Harry and Sam were playing video games.

“What’s with the long face?” Sam asked as Harry looked up at you.

“Oh nothing, I was just thinking about how once I got a fortune from a fortune cookie that read ‘fortune not found: abort, retry, ignore?’ and I think I’ve been destined for bad luck ever since that fateful day.”

“Ah, cool. Hey would you want to play a game with us?” Harry asked, completely ignoring what you had just said.

“Sure, what kind?” You asked, but before you had a chance to find out what it was, Harry bolted past you.

“Tom, Tuwaine, Harrison, get over here!” He ran up and down the hallway, trying to get everyone’s attention.

“What in the world?” Harrison asked.

“Did someone die?” Tuwaine inquired, peeking his head out of his bedroom door.

“It’s nothing bad, wanna play a game with all of us?” He asked and everyone groaned and rolled their eyes.

“Well what kind of game?” Harrison said hesitantly as Harry just grinned.

“I’ll explain once everyone comes into the living room because I don’t want to explain it twice.”

Everyone made their way into the room, and Harry instructed them to sit on the floor in a circle. Just then Sam downed the last of his beer and set the bottle on its side in the middle of the circle.

“Alright, it’s truth or dare, but with a twist. Technically it’s more of a spin, it’s regular truth or dare but instead of singling each other out, it’ll be more fair with the spin the bottle aspect.” He rambled, taking a seat right next to you.

You noticed that Tom was sat as far away from you as possible, and dodging your gaze. You looked back to see Harry resting his hand on your knee.

“Are we ready to play? I’ll go first.” Harry spun the bottle and it landed on Harrison.

“Alright mate, truth or dare.”

“Dare.”

“Okay.” Harry paused, “I dare you to read the last text message you received.”

Harrison unlocked his phone, and after a few seconds spoke. “Aha, it just says “Your amazon package is on its way.”

“Dang I was hoping it would’ve been juicier than that.” Harry remarked as Harrison spun the bottle. It landed back on Harry and he just smirked.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Last lie you told?” Harrison leaned his arms back and propped himself up with them. Harry thought for a minute and just shrugged his shoulders.

“I told Sam that I really liked his squash soup recipe but it’s utterly disgusting.” He gagged and Sam punched him in the arm. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad, right?” He asked and everyone remained silent.

“Whatever, spin the bottle asshole.” Sam crossed his arms over his shoulders as Harry spun the bottle, landing on you.

“Oh god.” You blurted out and Harry replied “Oh god, indeed Y/N. Truth or dare?” He grinned like the Cheshire Cat and your fight or flight instinct immediately kicked in.

“Truth.” You spit out, and Harry just looked you dead in the eye and said “I dare you to tell everyone that you’re dating Tom behind my back and decided not to tell me about it, even though I trusted you completely and entirely.”

“I-I’m, um, not, well-” you stammered. Your vision was becoming blurry and you felt a panic attack coming on. Without warning you jumped up and ran out of the room.

“Okay I think he had that one rehearsed.” Tuwaine remarked, and the room became silent again. Everyone looked at Harry disapprovingly, and the tension in the room was so thick you could cut right through it.

“Why would you say that?” Harrison asked and Harry was silent. “How do you even know she’s dating Tom?”

“Was dating, we’re not together anymore.” Tom added and everyone looked at him.

“What?” Harry asked, and Tom replied, “You heard me, we’re not dating anymore. She broke up with me earlier because she knew it was wrong that we didn’t tell you. She felt so guilty about it that she tossed her happiness aside to make sure you would still be her friend. She chose you over me, and now I’m starting to think she may have regretted that decision.”

“I’m a terrible friend, aren’t I?” Harry whispered and everyone nodded their heads collectively.

“I’m afraid so.” Tom said quietly.

“I gotta go talk to her.” Harry got up and ran out of the living room. He sped walked around the house looking for you, until he found you sitting outside next to the chicken coop. You were sitting with your knees to your chest on a lawn chair, holding a blanket and looking at your phone.

He hesitantly stood at the glass doors, and cracked the door open. You looked up to see him standing there, and you averted your gaze away from him.

“Hey, can we talk please? I come in peace.” Harry said and you remained silent. He pulled up a chair next to you and sat down, and cleared his throat.

“Listen Y/N, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that in front of everyone. I should’ve talked to you about it in private, and I’m sorry. I know that was a dick move, and I regret doing it.” His gaze was soft as he looked over at you, but you were avoiding his gaze, and pulling on a loose blanket string.

He sighed and continued to speak. “Tom said you broke up with him because you felt guilty for sneaking around. I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to sneak around, though. If he makes you really happy then I want what’s best for you. After all you’re my best friend, and I love you. And if your happiness means dating my brother then go for it, I genuinely mean it.”

You two sat there in silence for about a minute, until you finally spoke.

You knew?” You asked.

“Oh yeah, it was obvious.”

“What tipped you off?” You tilted your head slightly to look at him, and he met your gaze.

“When I came up behind you while we were baking cookies, I noticed you smelled faintly like Tom’s cologne, and how else would you smell like that if you weren’t constantly close enough to him?”

“Well, I also cuddle with you and Sam, so that’s not the best indicator.” You said flatly and he smirked.

“I also heard you two kissing outside at midnight. You were making right above my open bedroom window, of course I could hear you. Look, my bedroom window is right there.” He pointed upwards and you could clearly see his potted plant in the windowsill. “Also, Tom isn’t a silent lover if you know what I mean.” Harry lifted his brow as you began to choke. He patted your back as you tried to catch your breath, which resulted in him breaking out into a fit of laughter.

“I should’ve asked you if it was alright that I dated Tom. I’m sorry I went behind your back.” You had your head low and Harry shook his head.

“You shouldn’t have to be sorry. I shouldn’t have made you feel like you have to sneak around, just to be happy. Do you like him?”

“Of course, I mean sure, he gets on my nerves,” you let out a small laugh, “but I really do like Tom. He makes me happy and I enjoy spending time with him.”

“Then you have my blessing.” He stood up and bowed dramatically.

“Are you sure, Harry? I mean I-”

“Little one, I want you to be happy, even if it means you dating my imbecile brother.” He laughed and you pulled him into a tight hug. “Thank you.” You whispered against his chest, and he whispered back “You’re welcome. Now go get your man.”

“I love you Harry.”

“I love you too, Y/N. Now go.” He ushered towards the door and you made your way back inside.

It didn’t take long to find Tom, who was sitting on his bed, eyes focused on his laptop. He looked up to see you standing in the doorway, and he shifted his gaze back to his laptop.

“Tommy?” You walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down. He continued to ignore you, and you felt as though you could cry.

“Please look at me? I’m sorry I broke up with you. I shouldn’t have and Harry said I have his blessing so that we-”

“Wait what did you say?” Tom cut you off, closing his laptop and sitting up. He scooted closer to you and put his hand on your knee.

“Harry said that he’s okay with us dating, so-.” You were cut off again by Tom crashing his lips onto yours. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him, your chest flush with his. Breathless, you pulled away for a second, but Tom only pulled you in again.

“Are you mad-” you tried to speak but he cut you off yet again. “Don’t speak, okay? We’ll talk later. I just want you now.” You crashed your lips onto his, Tom moaning as he kissed you more passionately.

——

Mes petits anges (taglist): @scarletxwidow​ @starkissedholland​ @fangirlwithasweettooth​ @lmaotshollandd​ 

[wiypt-writes]

Riding High

Ch18: Sugar

 Chapter Summary: It’s July, and Fliss’ birthday…

 Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.!!!

 Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

 A/N: Ok, so I know you’ve all been on edge since He-who-shall-not-be-named was released on parole and I hope this chapter doesn’t disappoint. We’ll be gearing up for a bit of a rough time over the next few chapters for Friss so buckle up…  

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 High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 17

July 2018

 “So now what?” Mary looked at Fliss as the two of them sat side by side at the table, both looking at the laptop in front of them.

“See these spaces here…” Fliss said, pointing to two empty squares dotted in the unpublished Internet Page and then to the larger space at the top “Now we need to add the photos…”

 They were working on a project of sorts for Sandybrook’s website. They’d decided to give Monty his own little weekly blog for the summer called “The Life of Monty” which Mary had eagerly said she wanted to write, something for her to do over the break. “Ooh, ok!” Mary nodded “I already know which ones I want to use!” “Yeah?” Fliss looked at her.

“I want that one that has me, you and Monty in…you know the one that Frank likes where we are both laughing.” Fliss smiled “Ok, we can use that one.” “And then the other one is the one where Monty had the Party Hat on because it was his birthday.” “Good choice.” Fliss smiled “And what about the one across the top.” “The one of him in the pasture.” Mary said after a moment “Where he is looking up and pulling the funny face, you know with all his teeth out?” 

Fliss grinned “Yeah, it looks like he is smiling.” Mary nodded eagerly “Yup.” With a move of the mouse, Fliss set to work selecting the photos, ensuring that they were positioned and sized right for the frames. She couldn’t help but smile at the one of her and Mary. Mary was looking at the camera, laughing a lot whilst Fliss was, in turn, watching her and laughing too. Frank had been trying to take the photo of the 2 of them but Bill had been stood behind him, pulling stupid faces which had reduced Mary to tears, and her giggles had then set Fliss off. Frank said he adored the photo, that much in-fact it was now the screen-saver on his phone.

 Fliss clicked save and then looked at Mary. “Wanna give it a final read over, check if you want to add anything else?”

Mary nodded.

“Ok, you do that I’m gonna start dinner.” “What are we having?” Mary looked at her.

“Carbonara. That ok?”

Mary grinned her approval as Fliss stood up, dropped a kiss to Mary’s head and walked into the kitchen.

It wasn’t long before Frank came home and greeted Mary before he headed into the kitchen area. He wrapped his arms round Fliss from behind, dropping a kiss to her neck.

“Good day?” he asked and she hmmed in agreement.

 “Not bad…are you filthy, as usual?”

 He chuckled as he let her go and moved to the fridge. She stopped what she was doing and turned to face him as he reached in for the water jug. He was, as always, covered in grime from his work and Fliss bit her lip. There was definitely something about seeing him in his dirty work jeans and grubby T-shirts that got her blood pumping.

 “Stop it.” he said, giving her a look, knowing full well what she was thinking. She shrugged and with a grin turned back to the food.

 “Oh, erm, wanted to check…are you if we use photos of Mary for her blog on the website?” Fliss asked, turning back to him.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” “It’s a public sight.” Fliss shrugged “Just wanted to check that’s all.” “It’s fine.” Frank said, placing a kiss to her cheek “I think it’s a really good idea anyway, give her something to do and practice her writing. Like Bonnie said, she’s sharp on the numbers but could do with honing up her English a little bit. She’s too logical, this should give her something to be creative with and keep her occupied over the break.”

 And you…he refrained from adding. In the week following the notification that parole had been granted, John had been released. And this had set Fliss on edge. One night after she had snapped at Frank, causing a full scale argument over the fact he had bought the wrong type of salad dressing, she’d broken down and confessed that she wasn’t sleeping properly and this was causing stupid things, like Ranch v French dressing, to tip her over the edge.

 The day after her spectacular salad dressing related melt down, Greg, who had already requested details of the terms of his release, came over and the 3 of them gone through, in detail what it meant realistically for Fliss.

 “Basically it’s as good as you could hope for.” Greg explained “He is forbidden from contacting you or any of your family in any way, via any means. He is State-bound to Massachusetts, specifically the Boston area. He’s tagged, and on a curfew between the hours of 7pm and 7am. And moreover the authorities here are following the UK’s lead as well and trialling these new GPS tracking tags, which they’ve deemed him eligible for. So at any time, any place, they’ll be able to lock onto his whereabouts…” 

“So if he does breach his conditions…” Fliss started and Greg nodded “They’ll be on him like a shot.” he said, with a gentle smile “Look, I know this is shit…but you really do have nothing to worry about. One breach and he’s back inside. And when he reaches the end of his parole, we’ll file for an injunction with the same conditions. Keep him away from you.”

 Since the conversation with Greg, Fliss had calmed down somewhat but still, in week following her confession she didn’t spend a night away from Frank, seemingly coping better with the fact that she was around him, and even when he wasn’t there, the fact she was in his apartment gave her some safety and comfort.

 So he’d asked her to move in permanently 3 days ago. Which he was still waiting for an answer on. 

“What you thinking?” her voice broke through his thoughts.

“Honestly?”

 “Always.” she nodded.

 “When you’re gonna give me an answer to that question I asked you a few days back.” She took a deep breath and looked down at the floor before she looked up at him, a soft smile on her face.

 “Are you sure you want me here, full time, and you’re not just asking because-“

 “Lissy…” he cut her off, shaking his head “I’d have asked you move in here the day I did if I’d thought you’d have said yes. I’d love you to come live with us. And I know Mary would too…” “Ok, that’s blackmail.” she narrowed his eyes at the fact he’d dropped Mary into the equation and he grinned. “Is it working?”

 She bit her lip and nodded “Yeah, ok, I’d love to…” “Yeah?” he said, a huge smile spreading across his face, warmth flooding his chest.

 “Yeah…” she nodded, and grinned as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her lips.

 “Gross…” Mary mumbled as she walked past the pair of them to the fridge, retrieving a juice box. . Frank broke away to look at her as she stabbed the straw into the hole at the top.

“Better get over it Stack.” he smirked. “Fliss just agreed to come live with us.” “Really?” her eyes widened and she grinned as Fliss nodded. Mary moved over to the pair of them and wrapped her arms around them both, Frank’s hand falling to the back of her head as she looked up at him. “Does that mean I don’t need to eat any more of your cooking, like ever again?”

 Frank rolled his eyes and glanced at Fliss who was chuckling slightly “Trust me Mary…” she said, grinning “I’ve no intention of eating his cooking either.”

***** Of course Verity and Bill were over the moon when Fliss told them she was moving into Frank’s, and the next week or so they all spent doing various runs with the things she decided she needed to take. Everything else she would be leaving in the annex to either throw or store at a later date. 

Considering the amount of time they spent together, it wasn’t a huge change for them, it just meant that the comfortable routine they adopted when they were together became a daily one, and it suited the pair of them just fine. Frank also surprised Fliss by getting her a vanity unit which she had made a passing comment about, making space for it in their room.

After 3 weeks it had become the new normal for them. They shared chores, shared Activity Club runs, grocery shopping,  bills…Frank had tried to object to that one but Fliss had put her foot down insisting that if she was living there she was paying her way so he’d caved in the end and agreed. Fliss felt happy, safe, secure, loved...and Frank was over the moon simply knowing he had her to come home to every night.

 One particular evening, a few days before her Birthday they were due to meet Evelyn for dinner as she was in town again to visit Mary, but Fliss was running ridiculously late, and as a consequence was in a total flap

 “Fuck, fuck…” she groaned, jumping out of the jeep and calling Thor to her. “Come on buddy…”

She hurried across the lawns and threw the door to the apartment open, Thor shooting in before her. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late…” she instantly began apologising  as she walked into the living area and groaned loudly “The last lesson overran and then one of the waterers broke in the livery barn, flooded Horatio’s stable…” “It’s ok, calm down…” Frank chuckled, dropping a kiss to her cheek. “How did it break?”

“He’s been scratching his arse on it.” she said, rubbing at her temple “He broke it off the wall. We turned the supply off but I had to sort his bed before I left, then call his owner to tell her…” she groaned “Fucking nightmare.” “Want me to take a look at it?”

Fliss shook her head “Dad’s gonna do it tomorrow, keep him busy. He always moans at me for asking you and not…” she trailed off as she spotted Evelyn who was sat on one of the chairs in the living room. “Oh, Evelyn…hi. Sorry, I didn’t realise you were coming here…I thought…”

“We were…” Frank explained “But Mary wasn’t feeling too good so I suggested to Mother she come here instead.” “Oh, no, is she ok?” Fliss asked.

 “Too much sun I think, she’s been running around at the Activities Camp all day and hardly drunk anything, despite the lecture you gave her. She’s had some water and gone for a nap. She’ll be fine when it’s time for dinner.”

 “I thought seeing as we can’t go out I’d treat you to take out.” Evelyn spoke, standing up. Fliss eyed her for a moment before she shrugged.

 “I can make something.” she offered, and Frank shook his head. “No, Lissy…” “I can do chicken with that pear and blue cheese salad you and Mary liked.” Fliss said, “Surely that’s gonna be better for her than a take out if she’s feeling shitty?”

 Frank looked at her and then to his mother “That ok with you?” “Sure, that sounds good.” Evelyn nodded “but only if it’s no trouble.” “It’s fine.” Fliss nodded “Let me go take a shower and then I’ll get started ok?” Frank nodded and dropped a kiss to her cheek before she headed off to the bathroom. Thor made his way into the living room and took his usual place on the rug, flopping down as he looked up at Evelyn as she followed Frank over to the kitchen area. He pulled a bottle of white wine out of the fridge and held it up.

 “Sancerre?” Evelyn arched an eyebrow. “And a pretty good one too…” “Fliss’ choice, not mine. I assume that means you’d like a glass.” “I don’t want to put you out Frank.” she said, and he shook his head.

 “You’re here now so…” he said “Oh, we normally eat outside but I’m not sure if Mary’s-”

 “What, in open view of everyone?” Evelyn asked, horrified “It’s hardly-“ She stopped dead as Frank shot her a look, and held her hands up. “Point taken…”

 Frank poured her a glass then got a beer for himself and leaned back against the counter as his Mother nodded appreciatively at the wine.

 “So, pear and blue cheese…” she said and Frank looked at her “You hated cheese as a child.” “Well, I like it now.” he shrugged “And Mary loves that salad so…” “It’s not a dish I would normally associate with a child to be honest.” Evelyn mused.

“Well, I think we can both agree Mary isn’t a particularly standard child so…”

 At that point Fred sauntered into the kitchen, straight to his food bowl. Evelyn eyed him, before she turned to Frank and smiled “I already took a Benadryl…” He snorted and a few seconds later Mary appeared.

“Hi Grandmother. Fliss said you were here.” “You feeling ok?” Frank asked as she walked over to him. He swung her up and she rest her head on his shoulder, nodding. “Want some more water?” “Fliss told me to ask for the elec…erm…the electo-” “Electrolytes” he said, nodding. “Not a bad shout…”

He set her on the counter and then reached into the cabinet to the right of the sink where they kept the medical supplies and pulled a sachet from the box. Grabbing a glass he pulled the Filter jug out of the fridge and made her the drink before he handed it to her. “Take it slow ok?” She nodded and took it from him with a thanks, sipping at it carefully, pulling a face. “What flavour is that?” “It says orange.” he answered, looking at the packet.

“Well it’s wrong. That’s disgusting.” “It’s good for you, so stop complaining.”  Frank tossed the empty sachet into the trash.

 To his surprise he heard his mother chuckling and he turned to look at her.  “I remember giving you something similar when you came home with sunstroke from playing Baseball all afternoon. You spat it out and told me you’d rather die than drink it.” Frank gave a huff and then turned to Mary who was grinning ear to ear “Don’t even think about it.” he pointed at her.

 She shrugged and then took another mouthful, grimacing as she drank. “Please can I get down?” Frank obliged and watched as she headed off to the sofa, Thor jumping up besides her, settling his head in her lap.

 “Go and talk to her.” Frank looked at his mother “That’s why you’re here, to spend time with her. Not me.”

Evelyn nodded, and for a moment Frank thought he saw a flicker of emotion in the woman’s eyes, but as quick as it had flashed across her face it was gone and she turned and made her way into the sofa. Frank leaned on the edge of the archway which led into the living area and watched as she sat down in the chair she had occupied previously before he heard the door to the bathroom open again, signalling Fliss was out of the shower. He moved to start taking the different things they needed to make dinner out of the fridge and turned on the oven before he seasoned the chicken breasts just as she had shown him with salt, pepper, chilli and a squeeze of lime. He dropped it onto a tray, placed it in the oven and was washing his hands when Fliss walked dressed casually in a pair of shorts and a fading Guns N Roses tank top. She was barefoot and her damp hair was piled up on her head in a haphazard bun. This was Frank’s favourite way to see her. Completely relaxed and at home.

 “Chicken’s in.” he said as he turned to the fridge and then poured her a glass of wine.

 “Thank you.” she smiled, taking a sip.

 “Can I show Evelyn around?” Mary asked, and Frank turned to her.

 “Finished your drink?” “Yeah.” “Ok then yes, of course you can.” She stood up and Evelyn followed, giving the pair of them a smile as she passed by the kitchen area of the open plan living space

 “Oh, Felicity.” “Fliss, please.” Fliss nodded to her as she turned back to what she was doing.

 “Fliss, sorry, but could I be awkward?” Evelyn asked.

“No doubt you can.” Fliss mumbled between gritted teeth and Frank smirked to himself before she tuned to look at Evelyn.

 “Could I ask for my salad dressing on the side?”

“That’s fine.” Fliss nodded “I’ll make you a separate bowl.” “Thank you, that’s very kind.” Evelyn smiled before she headed out after Mary.

 “If she doesn’t eat this, then she’s gonna be wearing it.” Fliss looked at Frank who let out a laugh as he chopped up the slices of cucumber.

 “Now that I would pay to see.” “I’ll do it for free.” Fliss narrowed her eyes.

Frank chuckled again as they continued to make their food. After about 10 minutes or so, just as they were dropping the salad bowls onto the table, Evelyn and Mary re-appeared.

 “You’ve made a nice home, certainly considering the area anyway.” Evelyn said, as Frank invited her to sit at the table before he headed back to grab the bottle of wine, a beer for himself and more water for Mary.

 Fliss rolled her eyes” The area is fine, and Frank did it all, not me. Well, him and my dad. I only moved in a few weeks ago.”

“Yes, he does speak very highly of your parents.” “Well they love him.” Fliss shrugged “But then again what’s not to love.”

Evelyn looked at Fliss for a moment as Frank made his way back to the table, and they all settled down and began to eat. As she had been at Mary’s birthday, his mother was polite, nodding appreciatively at the food, joining in the conversation and she sat with Mary once they’d finished so Mary could show he the latest installation of Monty’s blog. After another bottle of wine and a few more beers, Frank realised it was getting quite late and then told Mary she needed to be getting ready for bed. Evelyn took this as her queue to call for her driver, which Frank was pleased about as it saved him having to ask her to leave.

 Mary headed for a shower and the three adults made small talk until she reappeared in her pyjamas just as Evelyn’s driver called to announce his arrival. She bid Mary goodnight and then Frank made to walk her down to her car when the woman surprised him and looked at Fliss. 

“Could you…I’d like to speak to you.” Fliss looked at Frank before she shrugged “Yeah, sure…” Frank frowned, but didn’t object. He looked at his mother and nodded “Let me know when you want to see her again.”

 “I was actually wondering if she could come to Boston for a few days.” Evelyn said and Frank took a deep breath. “Obviously, when it’s convenient.” “Maybe.” He nodded “Goodbye Evelyn.” “Yes, I’ll call you.” she nodded and then the two women headed out of the apartment. Fliss stuck her hands in her pockets as they walked.

 “I’m glad he took my advice.” Evelyn broke the silence “Regarding you, I mean…”

“Yeah he told me what you said to him.” Fliss gave a snort “Gotta say I was surprised after I’d unleashed quite a nasty verbal tirade on you…” “Well I think all things considered at the time I deserved it.”  Evelyn shrugged “And I’m not surprised you hate me so-“

 “I don’t hate you Evelyn.” Fliss cut her off, shaking her head “I hate what you did to Frank and Mary, and honestly? I still don’t understand it.”

 “I thought I was doing the right thing.” “But how?” Fliss pressed “How was tearing a girl away from the only father figure she has ever known, the man that has cared for her and loved her since she was six months old the right thing?”

 Evelyn shook her head “I know Frank and I made an assumption-” “No, you knew Frank.” Fliss looked at her, “It was, what? Almost 8 years since you saw him last when you turned up…and how long was it before he left Boston since you actually had a conversation with him? I just…” Fliss trailed off and looked down at her feet before she glanced back at Frank’s mother “it baffles me how someone can be so callous towards their own child, that’s all.”

 Fliss watched as Evelyn stopped and looked at her “What do you want me to say?” “An apology might not go amiss…” “I did that with his birthday card, paying the fees…” “Money doesn’t make it ok Evelyn.” Fliss sighed, “And a card isn’t the same as saying it to his face…” she scratched at her head “If you want to try and salvage something from this mess, have some form of relationship with your son…” “What makes you think-“ “Because I saw you this evening, at various points, watching him…you might be able to keep your face straight but the eyes don’t lie” Fliss said gently. Evelyn looked down at the ground as Fliss continued. “I suggest you start with a verbal apology, a very open and honest discussion, because that’s when you get the best out of Frank. On a face-to-face level, when he isn’t being lied or talked down to”

 “You really do know him exceptionally well don’t you?” Evelyn smiled.

“Well, we’ve had enough of our own discussions recently with everything that’s been going on so…” “Right, your ex-husband.” “How do you-“ Fliss sighed, “Mary?” “No, actually, she never said a word. I looked you up.”

 “Course you did.” Fliss groaned.

 “I was curious about your family.” Evelyn shrugged “You have quite the back story.” “Yeah well, its history.” she said “And long may it stay that way.”

 “Well I hope for all your sakes it does.” Evelyn shook her head “Nothing I can’t stand less than a man that deems it acceptable to do that. Lord knows I pushed Preston the extremes at times but he never once raised a hand to me…or his voice now that I think about it. He preferred to argue on a cerebral level...”

 “Very like Frank.” Fliss smiled.

 “Yes, the two are exceptionally similar.” Evelyn said as they reached the car. “Thank you for dinner Fliss, it was a very enjoyable evening.” Fliss smiled and then as Evelyn opened the car door the woman turned back to her “Just think about what I said Evelyn. You can’t turn the clock back but it’s how you go forward from here that matters.”

 Evelyn nodded, and with that she climbed in the car and shut the door. Fliss watched them drive off before she turned and headed back towards the apartment. “You ok?” Frank asked, turning to look over the back of the sofa as she walked into the living area.

“Yeah, fine.” Fliss smiled. “Mary in bed?”

“She’s reading” Frank nodded “Told her you’d pop in and say goodnight.” Fliss yawned as she slid her arms round his shoulders from behind “I’ll go now, then I think I’ll get in bed myself. I’m whacked.” Frank smiled and turned his head to give her a kiss “I’m just gonna finish watching this and then I’ll be with you.” “What is it?” Fliss asked, turning her attention to the TV.

“A documentary on whales, funnily enough. You’d enjoy it…” “You’re such an old man” she teased and he scoffed.

 “Not what you were saying last night.”

Fliss laughed “Well you keep yourself in good shape, what can I say.” With that she kissed his cheek and headed down the hall.

After bidding goodnight to Mary and Thor, who seemed very happy to remain in Mary’s room with Fred, she changed for bed and slipped into the sheets, stretching out before she got herself comfortable. She was dozing, drifting in and out of a light sleep when she felt Frank climb into bed behind her, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her to his chest.

 “Finish whale watching?” she asked as he dropped a kiss to her shoulder.

 “Yeah.” he said gently. “So you gonna tell me what my mother wanted?” “Nothing much…” Fliss turned in his arms so she was facing him. “She was actually quite contrite.”

 “Course she was…” “No, I mean it, I think she’s genuinely sorry.” Her hand gently traced shapes on his bicep “Maybe you should give her a chance to apologise properly.”

“That must have been one hell of a talk.” Frank snorted “You were all for dumping salad on her head before!”

 “We had a very honest discussion, I got a few things off my chest.” Fliss shrugged “And, well, like it or not she’s still your mum Frank.” “No, she’s my mother.” he corrected her “Your mom is a mom.”

 “Was your dad a dad or a father?” “He was a dad.” Frank said, “Most definitely.”

 “Do you remember much about him?” she asked.

“Little bits.” Frank’s hand tucked her hair behind her ear. “Mostly about stuff we did. Baseball, football, when he taught me how to ride a bike. All the fun stuff you do with kids really.” he took a deep breath.

 “What did he do?” “He was a Surgeon” Frank said “Neurology.” “Really?” Fliss looked up at Frank as he nodded “Well that’s pretty cool!”

 “Yeah.” Frank nodded “I wanted to be just like him when I was a kid. I sometimes wonder if I idolise him a bit more because he’s dead you know but…” “Have you ever asked your mother what he was like? You know, since he died?” “Once or twice.” Frank replied “For all of Evelyn’s faults she did love Dad. She gave up her own career and research partnership she had with Cambridge in London to move to Boston when she met him. Then they had me. I think she resented me a little bit at first because me and dad were so close, and then when Diane came along that was it, Daddy’s girl...”

 “No longer his main woman.” Fliss smiled.

 “Something like that. You know, I do wonder at times why on Earth she had us.” Frank snorted “if we were such inconveniences…” “It can’t all have been bad.” “Well we wanted for nothing. In fact, we were both very spoilt. And yeah, we had Birthday parties, fun, vacations, trips…but when dad died…I dunno, it kinda went to rat-shit.” “It must have been hard for Evelyn you know, losing him when you were both so young.”

 “Yeah.” Frank sighed “I’ve no doubt it was. I remember the police coming round and breaking the news about the accident…only time I’ve ever seen her break down.”

“You know before, she said that you remind her of your dad.” Fliss looked at him.

“Yeah she’s told me the same, last time I saw her in fact. Probably why she doesn’t particularly enjoy being around me that much.” “I think she enjoys it a lot more than she lets on.”  Fliss shrugged “And besides, I enjoy being around you. And so do my parents…so…”

 Frank gave her a soft smile before she leaned up and gave him a kiss. “I know…” he said, as she snuggled into his chest “And that’s all I care about.” ******

 Friday rolled around and with it came Fliss’ birthday. Frank was pretty sure Mary was more excited than Fliss to give her the gifts they had bought, and with good reason. Fliss beamed as she opened her various packages from them both, which included a bottle of her favourite perfume, a pale blue and white striped sleeveless button down which Frank had thought was quite nautical so very apt and a box of British chocolate. Bonnie had also stopped round the night before to give her a bottle of her favourite gin and a huge bag of sweets which she declared she was hiding from Frank as she didn’t trust him not to eat them.

Frank then handed her the envelope with her main present in and she opened it, her mouth dropping open as she looked at the Broadway Tickets.

“Lion King?” she said, looking up at him. “We’re going to see the Lion King?” He nodded, smiling “I know you wanted to go so…” “Oh my God…thank you!” she practically squealed throwing her arms round his neck, kissing his cheek.

 “You’re welcome.” he smiled, winking at Mary over his shoulder. She gave him the thumbs up. Fliss turned back to look at the pile of presents arranged on the coffee table before Mary handed her another smaller wrapped one.

“This is from me…and Fred…and Thor.” she added and Fliss smiled, unwrapping the small black box. She opened it, and a small card fell out which she picked up and read out loud.

 “We hope you enjoy your “Precious Paws” hand-made resin beads…” she trailed off, and glanced down at the charms in more detail. One was green speckled with gold and the other was blue speckled with silver.

 “The green one has some of Heidi’s tail hair in it…” Mary pointed as Fliss gently took it from the box to examine it in more detail, clearly seeing where the hair was wound through the resin of the bead “And the Blue one has Thor’s in.”

 “I…” Fliss felt herself choke up “Mary these are beautiful, where did you…” “Joanne told me about them.” Mary said, and Frank smiled at her “And then Frank helped me order them…” “They’re not officially Pandora but the woman said when we emailed her they’d fit the standard bracelet.” He said as she turned her head to look at him, her eyes shining.

 “Thank you both, so much…” she turned to Mary and wrapped her up in a hug before she did the same to Frank, giving him a soft kiss “Love you.” “Happy birthday Sweetheart.” he smiled, hugging her again.

As Fliss had booked the day off, so had Frank so the three of them along with Thor and Fred spent the afternoon after visiting Fliss’ mum and dad on one of the boats belonging to Paul, the owner of the shop Frank worked in. Frank had deliberately chosen one of the smaller ones so they could access the small stretch of sand just off St Pete’s beach that they all loved. It was quieter than the main beach as it wasn’t reachable unless you waded or sailed over and they spent the afternoon on the beach with a few beers and a picnic, before they headed home. Mary crashed out on the way back, her head lolling on Fliss’s lap as she sat at the front of the boat, her bare feet resting on the bar in front of her, simply watching the dolphins. Thor was barking at them like mad, wagging his tail and then suddenly he shot to the bow of the boat, placing both his paws up on the metal, threatening to throw himself overboard. Frank’s hand shot out to grab his collar.

“Dumbass…” he yanked him back, and turned to Fliss “Does this mutt have a brain in his head?”

 “Don’t’ talk about my baby like that…” she narrowed her eyes at Frank as she covered Thor’s ears with her hands as he sat by her feet, tail thumping on the floor. “Fred does his share of stupid shit too, like getting his head stuck in cereal boxes.”

 Frank rolled his eyes “At least Fred knows not to jump in the ocean.”

 “That’s because he has no sense of adventure.” Fliss shot back, causing Frank to snort. Standing up, Fliss gently moved Mary, so that she was led flat down before she stretched and moved next to Frank who tossed his arm over her shoulder.

“Had a good day?” he asked and she grinned, nodding.

 “The best.” she smiled “I love it when you bring me out sailing.” “I’m driving.” he turned to face her, grinning. “You’re sailing.”

 “Whatever” he mumbled as his lips pressed to hers. She snaked her arms around his neck as his slid round her back, pulling her closer to him as he kissed her deeply his tongue sliding against hers.

 “You can unwrap your last present when we get home…” he said, grinning like a school boy as he rest his forehead head against hers.

 “Yeah?” she asked, arching an eyebrow

 “I’d let you unwrap it now but…” he nodded to Mary and she snorted.

“You know we’ve not actually done that.” she mused. “Sex on a boat I mean…” Frank let out a laugh “You harbouring a bit of a sailing kink?” “More of a sailor kink” she shot back and he shook his head, giving her another quick kiss before he turned his attention back to the boat as he guided it back into the Marina.

 He made good on his promise once they got back, loved on his girl. Once in the shower and then again later on when he woke up as Fliss had done the same to use the bathroom. Frank knew he would never get tired of hearing the soft cries of his names and the various encouragements she gave him when she begged him not to stop or told him how good he was making her feel. As he tumbled right over that edge, behind her 3rd, or was it 4th orgasm, he’d lost count, his fingers tightened slightly on her hips as his head tipped back in ecstasy. He lay still, panting as she collapsed onto his chest, his hands stroking up and down her spine as she lifted her head, grinning as she caught his lips in a soft kiss before falling down onto the mattress next to him. She looked at him, her eyes flashing in the soft light that was sneaking into the room through the crack in the curtains, a look of pure love on her face, as if he had hung the moon and the stars in the sky, and it was enough to choke him up slightly. He still wasn’t sure he was worthy of her unadulterated adoration, but damned it, he’d try constantly to be the best version of himself if it kept her by his side.

 He didn’t wake the next morning when Fliss’ alarm went off. Instead he woke to a gentle kiss to his cheek and as he roused himself the smell of freshly brewed coffee hit his senses. Blinking he smiled softly as Fliss placed a mug on his night stand.

 “What time is it?” Frank asked.

 “Just gone seven. I’ve got an early appointment with the Ariat rep at the stables, remember?” “Oh, yeah…” he yawned, rubbing his eyes.

 “You told me to wake you before I left.”

 “Yeah, I don’t know why I did that…” he moaned and she chuckled.

 “You gonna bring Mary up later?”

 “Yeah, I’ll leave he with you for the afternoon if that’s ok? Need to clean the boat and get it back.” “Course it is.” she smiled. With that she bent over to kiss him again and in a shot Frank’s arms were round her waist and she was flat on her back on the bed, laughing as he caged her with his arms.

 “Frank…” she whined, as he kissed her softly “I can’t, I’m gonna be late as it is…” “One more kiss, come one…” he pleaded, and she relented as he pressed his lips to hers before she eventually pulled away and shoved on his chest. With a pout he moved allowing her to stand and she shook her head at him.

 “You’ll be the death of me Frank Adler.” she said, straightening her top and he eyed her figure up as she did so and gave a shrug.

 “What a way to go…” he smirked and with that she reached down, grabbed one of the various scatter cushions that lived on the bed during the day, and smacked him straight on the face with it.

 He and Mary shared a lazy morning before they both dressed and headed out going via the bakery at the end of the high street to pick up a coffee and some Danishes for a late breakfast for Fliss as he knew she’d have left without eating any, she always did when she was out earlier than them. As he pulled up, Mary was out of the truck before he had stopped, something which he was fed up of telling her off for.

Frank walked into Fliss’ office where he placed the bag of food on the desk, along with the cardboard carrier which contained their coffee and gave her cheek a kiss. Mary shot into the tack room, grabbed her little box of brushes and shot off to go and see Monty.

“Bye then…” he said sarcastically, and she completely ignored him. He snorted, shaking his head as Fliss laughed.

 “Busy morning?” he asked and Fliss nodded.

 “I’ll say.” she nodded to the bag “Saturday’s always are…aww, you bring me breakfast?”

 “If 11 am counts as breakfast” he snorted and Fliss laughed as she continued sifting through the pile of envelopes on her desk. There was one that contained a few clearly hand delivered cards, he could tell by the shape and the fact they had no post marks, and then another small pile that had arrived in the post. “Bill, bill…oh…” She stopped at a bigger envelope. “A card?”

 Frank shrugged. She turned it over, ripped open the envelope and pulled out a white card with simple block writing on the front in multi-colours. With a frown she opened it and scanned the greeting, before her eyes grew wide and she threw it down onto the desk.

“Lissy?” Frank frowned, and he looked at her as she shook her head, taking a deep breath, before she swallowed and turned to face him. “Honey, what is it?” “It’s…” she swallowed, her eyes wide “That card…it’s…it’s from John.”

Frank’s face grew harsh as he grabbed the card and read the greeting. It was 3 words long. 3 simple words, but even he knew from what she’d told him about the name John used to call her, that it was from him. Happy Birthday Sugar. “Fucker.” Frank growled, tossing the card back onto the desk as Fliss turned to him and he wrapped her in his arms, letting her simply press her face into his chest. He rubbed his hand gently up and down her back as her breathing evened out and she stepped back. “You ok?” “Yeah…” she said, “Do me a favour and get rid of it.” “Don’t you wanna call the police?” he frowned.

 “They’re not going to do anything about a card.” she shook her head

 “He’s broken his parole…” “And they can’t prove its him.” she sighed “They’re not gonna DNA test or whatever on that…” “Fliss…”

“No, Frank…just…” she shook her head. “Please, do what I ask and rip it up, burn it, whatever, I just…get rid of it”

 “Ok, ok…” he appeased and she nodded, before she looked to the doorway and hastily her face rearranged into a smile.

 “Hi Steph!” she greeted. Frank turned to see a dark haired woman dressed in riding gear, Fliss’ next client. “DJ is ready, get Jo to get you on and I’ll be out in a moment.” The woman smiled and headed off down the yard. Fliss looked at Frank.

 “I didn’t think about the fact this place was so easy to find.” she shook her head “The webpage…” Frank sighed, it was something if truth be told he hadn’t considered either “Look, the worst he can do is send you shit.” he said, almost trying to convince himself as well “He can’t set foot out of Mass…he’s clearly doing this to try and upset you so…” “Well he can fuck off and die.” Fliss said venomously, “Ass hole…a fucking birthday card? He’s clearly losing his touch.” With that she gave his cheek a peck and grabbed a Danish out of the bag before she picked up her coffee. “This lesson is only half an hour so as soon as I’m done Mary can ride Monty and then she can do her jobs and stuff. You go and clear the boat from yesterday or whatever it is you were planning on doing and I’ll give you a call later ok?”

 “Sure.” he nodded.

“Love you.” she smiled at him, before she left the room.

 Frank watched her go before he looked at the card. She’d asked him to get rid of it…but something was telling him not to. He pondered it for a moment before he tucked the offending item back into the envelope and then curled it up so it would fit in his back pocket, before he headed out to the jeep, pulling his phone free as he walked. 

“S’up Man?” Greg greeted him as he opened his truck door threw the envelope onto the passenger seat.

“I need some advice.” Frank spoke quietly, glancing over to where Fliss was now stood in the middle of the paddock, the women on the large grey horse was walking around her in a circle. “Can we meet?”

**** Chapter 19

[searchingwardrobes]

Not the Type: 5/7

The muse has awakened! I feel awful for keeping ya'll waiting so long (5 months? seriously?!) for an update on this fic. I actually decided to split this chapter up once it reached 2k because I didn't want you waiting any longer for another chapter. So, this will now be 7 chapters plus an epilogue. Much thanks to my beta @hookedonapirate​ for untangling my awkward wording and making me sound so much better! You have a way of getting what I'm trying to say and making it flow. What would I do without you? Thanks to the @captainswanmoviemarathon​ mods for being so patient and understanding when I had to put this on the back burner. And finally, thank you to my dear friend @snowbellewells​ for helping me get the muse kickstarted again on this fic. You rock!

Oh, and fun fact: The part in this chapter about Ruby’s cheer injury really happened - to me when I was a cheerleader long, long ago . . .

Summary: Emma Swan first notices him in the stands at the Friday night football game. She can tell right away Killian Jones is not the football type. Then again, she’s not the cheerleader type either, but here she is with pom poms. Life hasn’t ever gone the way Emma planned. Lately, that’s actually been a good thing. Maybe Killian Jones is a good thing, too.

My loose Captain Swan AU of the movie Bring it On

Rating: T

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @xhookswenchx @let-it-raines @bethacaciakay @tiganasummertree @shireness-says @stahlop @scientificapricot @spartanguard @welllpthisishappening @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @kday426 @ekr032-blog-blog @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl @profdanglaisstuff @ohmakemeahercules @carpedzem @branlovestowrite @superchocovian @sherlockwhovian​ @hollyethecurious @vvbooklady1256 @winterbaby89 @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @snidgetsafan @itsfabianadocarmo @lassluna

Chapter Five

“You’ve got to let go of me for one second,” Emma giggled, her tone and the fact that she was simultaneously wrapping her free arm tighter around Killian’s waist completely contradicting her words.

“Do as I say, not as I do, hm?”

“I’m trying to get the mail!”

“So?”

“So you’re kissing my neck.”

“Hm, so I am.”

He flashed her a dazzling smile, his blue eyes slightly dazed, like he was drunk on love or something. Love? Emma wriggled free of his embrace as the word penetrated her lust filled, teenage brain. They couldn’t be in love or anything like that. This wasn’t a 90's rom com or something.

Killian was unfazed by her sudden distance, his hands still finding purchase on her elbow and hip; her hair still tickling his nose and mouth. She reached into the mailbox, pulled out an unusually thick stack and started flipping through it as Killian snaked his arms around her waist from behind and propped his chin on her shoulder. Emma wasn’t surprised to see college brochures; they had begun coming with increasing regularity now that she and her brother were juniors. One white envelope with blue writing gave her pause, however. It was addressed to her, and this was no brochure. It was a very official looking letter. Emma’s hands trembled as she tore it open.

“What is it?” Killian mumbled the question, far more interested in her neck at the moment.

Emma scanned the contents of the letter, and the more the words sank in, the more she trembled. So much so that the rest of the mail went fluttering to the sidewalk. Killian was finally pulled away from his obsession with her neck and spoke his next question with deep concern.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah . . . I, um,” she swallowed hard as conflicting emotions swirled in her brain. “The University of Kentucky is interested in recruiting me for their cheerleading squad.”

“That’s amazing, Swan!”

“You have no idea,” Emma said softly as she sank down onto the front step of her apartment building.

Killian gathered up the rest of the mail, then came and sat next to her. “Then continue in my cheerleading education, love.”

Emma chuckled, though she was also touched by the obvious interest he held in her pursuits, even if they weren’t necessarily in line with his.

“UK has the best cheer program in the country,” Emma explained. “They’ve won an insane number of national titles, probably more than any other college. You don’t just make the squad, you get a full ride. They’re that good.”

Killian lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “See? I knew you were bloody brilliant.”

Emma returned his bright smile with a shaky one of her own. “You’re so sweet.”

“You’re not excited about this?”

Emma bit her lip, staring at the letter in her hands until the words started to blur together. “I am. It’s just . . . this means they’ll be sending recruiters to our competitions. That’s a lot of pressure.”

“I’m sure you’ll rise to the occasion.”

Emma’s lips lifted in a half-hearted smile. Her head collapsed onto his shoulder, and he brushed his lips against her forehead.

“A full ride . . . “

She let the thought fade into the air. How could she screw up an offer like this? It would help Ruth out so much, and her brother, too.

Yeah, no pressure.

*******************************************************

“Hey, Em!”

One of Ruby’s dirty socks bounced off Emma’s head and landed in her lap. With a disgusted grumble, she batted it to the floor.

“Rubes, that’s gross!”

“Well, you’re sitting there, staring into space. Don’t tell me you’re suddenly embarrassed to put that thing on in front of everybody.”

Emma looked down at the sports bra still clutched in her right hand. They all learned early on that there was no modest way to squeeze your boobs into a sports bra, so the squad basically had to get real comfortable around each other real fast. And contrary to every teen movie ever made, there was nothing sexy about it. It was just athletes being a team in the locker room.

You know, like male athletes.

“Oh God, she’s contemplating sexism in sports again,” Ariel groaned.

“She is!” crowed Ruby. “Look how she’s staring at that sports bra!”

“You mean this torture device?” Emma quipped, waving the garment in the air like a feminist about to burn something.

“She isn’t wrong,” Mary Margaret put in.

“Well, I for one am thankful for the torture device,” Jasmine piped up.

“Here we go again,” groaned Tiana.

“It’s true!” Jasmine cried out. “I don’t want the girls flopping around. It hurts!”

“While this discussion is incredibly enlightening,” a voice said dryly from the doorway, “I’d prefer we start running our competition routine, if you ladies don’t mind.”

They all mumbled apologies to Coach Ava, along with promises to get out of the locker room as quickly as possible. Emma shed her blouse and regular bra, then struggled her way into her sports bra before slipping a cheer camp t-shirt over her head. She paused before one of the cracked mirrors that hung above a row of ancient porcelain sinks that dated back to the 1950s. Being a girls’ team that didn’t really bring in any ticket sales, the cheerleading squad was relegated to practicing in the old gym. It could've been worse, however. The seniors remembered their freshman year, before the new gym was built, when the cheerleaders were forced to practice in the atrium at the front of the school. The atrium was great for painting bust-throughs, but Emma couldn’t imagine having to practice there.

As Emma tugged her hair into a messy ponytail, she thought of the letter she had shoved in the front pocket of her backpack. She'd planned on showing it to Ruby and Mary Margaret, but for some reason, she'd lost her nerve. She sighed as she made her way out of the locker room. Letter or no letter, she had to get her head on straight.

As usual, the girls started off running a mile around the gym, and just like every other practice, Emma started off keeping pace with Ruby and Mary Margaret. Her mind was still a million miles away, however.

In Kentucky, she supposed. The bluegrass state. Was the grass really blue? I mean, it couldn’t be. How can grass be blue?

“Hey,” Ruby panted, leaning over her knees when the run was over, “what’s with you?”

“What’s what?”

Emma’s brow furrowed as she did a calf stretch. She was always getting charley horses in the middle of the night during competition season. Ruth kept bugging her to eat a banana every day, but she despised bananas. They were so mushy . . .

“Earth to Emma,” Mary Margaret laughed.

Ruby snapped her fingers in Emma’s face.

“What happened to the Emma we know and love?” she asked. “You know, the one who leaves us in the dust every practice, laughing her ass off the whole way?”

“It’s not my fault you two do a leisurely jog instead of a run.”

“Running is what you do when you’re being chased,” Mary Margaret countered. It was her usual argument.

Ruby narrowed her eyes at Emma. “You’re avoiding my question.”

“Lunges, girls, across the gym floor!” shouted Coach Ava, saving Emma from responding. She lined up with the rest of the squad along one side of the gym, then stepped forward with her right leg, her hands on her hips.

“Is it Killian?” Ruby hissed at her left.

“No!”

“Just drop it,” Mary Margaret snapped.

“Yeah,” Emma grunted as she lowered herself into another lunge, “it’s kinda hard to talk and do these at the same time.”

“Tiana, I wanna see a right angle on those lunges!” their coach called out. “Ruby, you might be able to keep your balance if you stop exercising your mouth!”

Emma laughed loudly as Ruby wobbled and almost went down. “Yeah, Rubes, I’d concentrate if I were you.”

And just to rub her friend’s face in it, Emma sped up her lunges, reaching the other side of the gym first.

“Excellent job,” Coach Ava praised her. “Smooth, with speed, and you didn’t lose your form.”

Ruby practically growled when Emma threw a smirk her way.

They did a few more drills, warmed up their tumbling with a few simple passes, then gathered on the mats to go through their routine. Coach Ava was still making a few simple changes, but for the most part, it was now all about committing it to muscle memory. They needed to be able to practically do the routine in their sleep by the time December rolled around. And that was only five weeks away.

The girls got into position, and the music started. They were opening with a tumbling peel off. The girls in the front did a standing back handspring, the girls in the middle a standing back tuck, and then . . .

Emma got to shine as she kept going. Out of a standing back tuck, into two back handsprings, and then finally into a full twisting double back as the music crescendoed. Usually, Emma’s adrenaline had her ending the pass with a huge smile on her face, but today she under-rotated and almost landed flat on her face. She tried to shake it off, but in the team’s first pyramid, she started to lose her balance, almost taking the rest of the team down with her. Emma chastised herself to get it together as her stunt group moved into position for their next stunt - a twist up

Their “theme” this year was hair. They whipped their ponytails a lot in the dance portion, and every song had to do with hair. In the next stunt, Emma had to pull up on her ponytail while she twisted up into an arabesque, as if she was pulling herself up by her hair.

It was a little like patting her head and rubbing her stomach at the same time, which was incredibly frustrating to Emma. The stupid hair pull was supposed to be a cool bit of choreography, not rocket science. Yet, once again, Emma seemed to get her arms, her long hair, and her legs tangled into a mass as she twisted upward. What happened next, Emma was never entirely sure. Ruby yelled, Emma felt herself tilting sideways and she panicked, making a rookie mistake - she attempted to jump down from the stunt. Her fist was still gripped in her hair, which she almost yanked out in the fall, and she kicked her spotter away - another rookie mistake. Thankfully, Coach Ava was able to dart forward in time to catch Emma. Behind her, she heard what she swore were skulls crashing together.

It was a pretty accurate description.

Ruby was swearing loudly as she clutched her chin. A little blood seeped between her fingers. Ashley covered her mouth with both hands, and Emma was alarmed to see a lot of blood rolling down the blonde’s chin and staining her shirt. Ava abandoned Emma to check on the two bases, barking at Mary Margaret to run and get the first aid kid.

Emma felt like the worst human being in the world. She clutched at her middle and kept whispering “I’m so sorry” over and over again, but no one paid her any attention.

Ava cleaned up the blood pouring from Ashley’s mouth enough to ascertain that all of her teeth were still intact. She just had a busted lip, something many of them had endured in the past. It was crazy how badly a mouth injury bled. As for Ruby, she didn't even need a band-aid once the blood was cleaned away with an antiseptic wipe.

“Watch it carefully for infection,” Coach Ava advised.

“Why?” Ruby asked with a furrowed brow.

Ava winced slightly before reluctantly explaining. “They're bite marks. Ashley’s teeth collided with your chin.”

“WHAT??” Ruby screeched.

The rest of the squad crowded around to see as Coach Ava tilted Ruby’s chin up for a better look. Sure enough, there were two teeth-shaped puncture marks, like she’d been attacked by a wild animal. Practically growling in irritation, Ruby shoved her teammates aside and rushed to the locker room for a better look.

Ruby’s scream moments later had all of the girls collapsing with laughter.

“Well,” Ava sighed, “I suppose we’re taking a little break before we run the routine again.”

*************************************************

“So Ruby has bite marks on her chin?”

Emma snort-laughed through her nose at the look on Killian’s face. “Yep. And the rumors about how she got them get more and more unbelievable as the day goes by.”

Killian rolled his eyes before taking a bite of his sandwich. “Bloody gits”

It was too cold now to sit under the trees in the school courtyard, so she and Killian were tucked into a hidden corner in the school atrium. They had to whisper, though, because sounds reverberated against the domed ceiling. Emma couldn’t imagine cheering in this space. How did the seniors not go deaf?

“It’s not really a sexy place for bite marks though,” Emma said as she licked Cheeto powder off her fingers.

“Yeah, I can think of far kinkier places.”

She smacked him in the chest as he waggled his eyebrows at her. She wanted to be indignant at his innuendo, but instead her cheeks burned as her mind plunged straight into the gutter. She already knew a little bit of what Killian could do with his teeth . . .

“Sorry,” he apologized, shifting gears faster than she would have thought possible, “I don’t mean to be an idiot like all the rest.”

Killian blushed and scratched behind his ear. She practically melted at the way he could so swiftly go from irrepressible flirt to sweet boyfriend. She leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

Emma crumpled up the Cheeto bag and stuffed it into her lunch bag. She handed the wad of trash to her boyfriend sweetly, batting her lashes exaggeratedly. Killian took her trash, chuckling as he stood up.

“You don’t have to use doe eyes to get me to do things for you,” he told her before walking to the trash can beside the front doors.

“I don’t?”

“Never,” he answered as he returned to her side. He sat back down on the floor, his back against the wall, and pulled her snug against his chest.

“So you’ll just wait on me hand and foot?”

“Like the princess you are.”

“Wow, I should really take more advantage of how whipped you are,” she joked.

Killian retaliated by tickling her in the ribs. She wriggled and laughed, but made no attempt to pull away from him. She glanced around, saw no adults, and then pressed her lips to his.

He kissed her back, sliding a hand into her hair. They kept it brief, not wanting to get caught. Storybrooke High gave demerits for PDA. Emma was tempted to just take the demerits so she could kiss her boyfriend thoroughly, but Coach Ava would pull her from the competition line up if she got one more demerit. So Emma just sighed and snuggled against Killian’s chest. He began to idly play with her hair.

“How many demerits do you get for PDA?”

Emma craned her neck to look at him. “How did you know I was thinking that?”

He grinned down at her rakishly. “I didn’t. But how many?”

Emma frowned. “It’s not bad, but it’s still too many for me. I’ve already gotten five demerits and six will get me cut from competition.”

“Scandalous. How did you get five demerits, love?”

Emma grumbled as she shoved a stray hair out of her eyes. “The first two I got because I argued with Mr. Gold about a paper he unfairly gave me a C- on. Then he wrote me up just for questioning him about it!”

“The bastard. And the other three?”

“That was me being stupid. I used the vending machine after noon.”

Killian’s laughter shook his chest, making Emma smile.

“That’s a stupid rule anyway.”

“I know, right? I forgot my lunch!” Emma tightened her arms around Killian. “Principal Mills did let me keep the chips, though.”

They were silent for a moment. Killian was still playing with her hair. She felt him take a deep breath and release it.

“Have you told the squad yet? About UK?”

Emma sighed. She figured he would ask her this eventually. “I will.”

“Emma -”

“I will.” She knew she needed to. Her friends could tell something was off, and she couldn’t afford to be distracted at any more practices.

Or any competitions.

Of course, if she screwed up this badly at a competition, The University of Kentucky might change their minds.

[thatsamericano]

Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life Too

Pairings/Characters: America/Romano. Background Gerita, and Seborga and Prussia are there too. Very brief appearances from Denmark and Lithuania in the video, as well as a ton of other characters who don’t get lines.

Rating: Teen, but only for cursing. Very fluffy, and no warnings to speak of.

Word Count: 2518

Summary: America sends Romano a special video for his birthday. He isn’t Elvis Presley, but it’s the best rendition of the song Romano’s ever heard.

A/N: I wanted to post something fluffy for Romano’s birthday. This will be up on AO3 soon.

It had been a nice, quiet birthday for Romano so far. Feli’s macho potato had dropped by to spend the day with him, and Prussia had tagged along too. Savino was glad Gilbert and Marcello were here, because otherwise he would’ve been stuck third-wheeling the sappiest couple in the world on his own birthday. Spain and Belgium had said they would arrive in a couple hours, which Romano was looking forward to as well. Most of the people who had sent his little brother a happy birthday message had remembered to send one to him too. America had sent them both silly e-cards, and the gifts he’d sent had arrived a week early and would be unwrapped along with all the others after they frosted the cake.

Romano was not lonely, especially not for someone who would’ve had to fly across a whole ocean to see him. He only threw a spatula at Germany’s head when he leaned in to kiss Feli right after he put the cake in the oven because the sight of the potato bastard kissing his little brother grossed him out to no end.

Feliciano pouted at him. “Fratello, that wasn’t very nice of you.”

“I had to stop you two before I lost my appetite. I want to actually be able to eat a slice of cake later!”

Germany muttered something under his breath, and Seborga giggled while Prussia ruffled his hair. “Relax, Savi. It’s your birthday.”

Romano shoved Gilbert’s hand away. “I’m relaxing just fine, damn it.” He walked over to the counter to check his phone, which had received a few new messages since he and Feli had started making their joint birthday cake.

As he was reading a message from New Zealand (who seemed to be confused by the time difference and hoped their message had arrived on time), a new text popped up on his phone. From America.

“Huh, that’s weird.”

“What’s weird?” Marcello asked.

“America sent me a link to a Youtube video.” Alfred liked to upload a lot of strange things on Youtube, including cooking videos with his twin, recordings of him prank calling England, and the occasional stunt that would’ve turned Savino’s hair gray if he’d aged like a human. Seriously, what the fuck had possessed him to surf down a staircase on a fucking ironing board?

The message before the link was cryptic as hell. Happy bday. Here’s an extra present for you. 😉 Hope you enjoy.🎶 Knowing America, Romano wouldn’t have been too surprised if he’d opened up the link and seen that one Rick Astley song the idiota still thought was funny to send to people. But Feli immediately got excited about it.

“Oh, he finally sent you the video! I thought he’d do that a month ago!”

Prussia smirked as Feli rushed over to them. “Nah, Al had always planned to upload it today.”

Germany came over with a subtle hint of a smile on his face, like he knew what all this was about too. At least Marcello still looked baffled as he leaned over to get a look at Savino’s phone.

“What the fuck are you assholes up to?” Savino didn’t like this feeling. He didn’t like that everyone except his baby brother had been plotting something behind his back.

“It isn’t bad, Romano,” Germany promised. “Just open the link and you’ll see.”

Romano didn’t trust Germany further than he could throw him, and the guy was way too heavy for him to even lift. But if Germany thought it was okay, it probably wasn’t a video involving the kinds of ridiculous shenanigans America liked to film, and it certainly was nowhere near as heart-attack inducing as some of the videos he’d seen Fredo post (especially if Prussia or Denmark were egging him on). Savino squinted at Ludwig suspiciously before he clicked on the link.

It wasn’t Rick Astley. The video started with a black screen. “No, Gil, you’re supposed to press the red button!” The voice sounded like Denmark.

“Magnus, I pressed the red button!” That was Prussia.

“Guys, maybe we could use my iPhone instead?” America asked. His voice sounded uncharacteristically strained and nervous. “The quality won’t be as good, but at this point Vinny’s probably given up anyway.”

Suddenly, the image of a white dress shirt with a navy tie (and an inexplicable ukulele) appeared on the screen. The camera zoomed out a little, and he could see Alfred smiling at him in a crowded bar with many nations Romano knew well, and many who were only acquaintances. Denmark rushed past him, but Romano could scarcely take his eyes off America. He was wearing the same outfit he’d seen him in on the day of the last world meeting he’d attended a couple months ago in Berlin, and he was cradling a ukulele in his arms. His warm smile, as always, made Romano’s heart skip a beat. But there was a hint of anxiety in his crystal blue eyes, and that made Romano wish he was there to talk to America and help him with whatever seemed to be bothering him.

“Hey, Vinny! Right now it’s still January, but by the time I upload this video, it will be your birthday, so happy birthday, dude! I hope you’re having a good day with your brothers.” He chuckled. “You guys will probably need a huge cake if you’re gonna blow out all your birthday candles.”

Romano rolled his eyes. “That’s what numbered candles are for, idiota,” he murmured.

“Anyway, I know I’m not the best singer in the world—” Prussia snickered from behind the camera and America glared at him sharply before relaxing back into the smile he’d had on his face before. “But I’ve been practicing this song a lot, so hopefully you’ll like it.”

Romano wondered which song it was. If it was the Italian version of “Happy Birthday,” America wouldn’t need a ukulele, and this video would not be three and a half minutes in length.

America started strumming the ukulele, and it wasn’t the “Happy Birthday” song. Savino vaguely recognized the melody, and apparently Feliciano knew what the song was, because he was bouncing next to him and muffling squeals behind his hand. Savino was tempted to smack him, but that would involve looking away from his phone.

Then, America started to sing in a shaky but surprisingly clear voice, staring straight at the camera. “Wise men say, only fools rush in…”

Marcello gasped. “He didn’t!”

“Oh, he totally did,” Prussia replied smugly.

Savino was too emotional to talk. He teared up as Alfred continued with the next line. “But I can’t help falling in love with you.” Fredo’s voice was full of sincerity, like he actually meant it, like he actually loved him. For so long, Romano had assumed his feelings for America were completely one-sided, that he would have to ignore them as much as possible, vainly hope they might disappear, and move on with his life as best he could. But clearly, he had been wrong, and the proof was that America was serenading him with a love song. On his birthday.

America started walking backwards with his ukulele, and Prussia’s camera followed him. At the end of the first verse, he’d reached a booth with Spain, Portugal, Belgium, the Netherlands and Luxembourg. They all held up signs wishing him a happy birthday in various languages as they sang the last line together. Spain waved and Belgium winked at the camera, and America grinned as he kept walking through the bar.

He briefly stopped by other groups of people to allow them to hold up signs wishing Romano a happy birthday as he sang. Russia, his sisters, and Canada. Lithuania, Estonia, Latvia and Poland. Hungary, Austria, Germany, Switzerland, and Liechtenstein. China, Japan, Taiwan, Vietnam, and South Korea. France, Monaco, all the UK countries, and Ireland. Australia, New Zealand, Seychelles, and Kenya. Greece, Turkey, and Egypt. All the Nordics too. It was the sweetest, most romantic thing anyone had ever done for Romano. America must have gone to so much effort to orchestrate something like this, to gather so many countries together in one bar in Berlin and convince them to go along with his plan. Savino smiled as he kept watching the video. Maybe Alfred wasn’t as good a singer as Elvis Presley or any of the many people who had covered this song, but his performance was heartfelt, and Savino loved every second of it.

Near the end, all of the countries sang the line “For I can’t help falling in love with you” together and held up their happy birthday signs. The bartender and some confused humans sang along with them. Savino laughed as Alfred chuckled sheepishly in the video, cheeks turning pink because this was an unusually public spectacle, even for him.

Alfred repeated the final chorus and sang with just him and the ukulele, as he had begun the song. “Take my hand, take my whole life too.” His eyes were shining with tears, and not the happy kind Savino had been shedding since the second line of the song. “For I can’t help falling in love with you.” He repeated the final line then took a deep breath.

“So, yeah. That uhh… wasn’t just a song.” America glanced off to the side. “I’ve kinda been hopelessly in love with you for a while.”

“About 90 years, give or take!” a tipsy voice shouted from off camera. It sounded just like Lithuania, the few times he’d had a little too much to drink at a speakeasy back when he, America, and Romano all lived together. Romano remembered those days fondly.

America hunched his shoulders with a pained look on his face. “Yeah. What Tolys said. You mean a lot to me, Vinny, both as a friend and possibly more, if you want that. If you just wanna stay friends, that’s cool. I hope you liked the song. Happy birthday.”

The screen abruptly cut to black, and the video ended. Savino wiped his eyes and looked up at Feliciano. “This is… this is why we had to fly back right away, isn’t it? Our boss didn’t call you.”

Feli shook his head. “I lied. America asked me to lie so he could surprise you with that video.”

“I can’t believe he did that for me.” Part of Savino felt like he didn’t deserve it, but a much bigger part of him was too selfish to care about what he did or didn’t deserve. He just wanted to be happy. “I wish he was here,” Romano confessed quietly. “I wish I could tell him I feel the same way.” And he wanted to kiss away every tear that idiota had ever cried over him, which was long overdue.

Savino ignored his little brothers cooing over what he had just said and tried not to bristle at the fact that even Germany seemed to think it was adorable. Prussia, weirdly enough, was too busy texting on his phone to join in on the overbearing fawning.

Gilbert chuckled at something on his phone. “Alfred’s a lot closer than you think. He decided to skip the Saint Paddy’s Day parade this year.” He grinned up at Romano, who instantly got the message. Alfred wasn’t celebrating with his Irish-American citizens. He was here in Italy, and it wouldn’t take much effort for Romano to find him.

He sprinted to his front door and flung it open. Alfred, who had been standing with his back to the front door, turned around to face him. “Vinny, I…”

Savino was too impatient to let him get another word out. He tugged on the collar of his emerald green t-shirt and sealed their mouths together. Alfred made a muffled sound of surprise and started kissing him a couple seconds later. He wrapped an arm around his waist, and Savino could feel that he was holding something wrapped in cellophane in his hand. He didn’t give a fuck what it was. He didn’t give a fuck about anything except the fact that Alfred was grinning against his mouth as he reluctantly pulled away for air.

Alfred’s face was flushed, and he had to reach up to fix his glasses. “Wow. This t-shirt never worked before.”

Savino glanced down at the shirt, which read “Kiss Me, I’m Irish!” (of course it did) and snorted. “I didn’t kiss you because of a fucking t-shirt logo. I kissed you because I watched that birthday video you sent me, which was the most adorable goddamn thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“So you liked the song, huh?”

“I loved the song. And I love you too, Fredo.”

He heard sniffling, and it couldn’t have been Alfred, who was beaming at him like every prayer he’d ever uttered had been answered just by Savino saying those words to him. And the sniffling noise was coming from behind him. At least one person had followed Romano to the front door, but Romano had been too focused on America to notice.

Romano tensed up as America laughed and put an arm around his shoulder. “Germany, are you crying, dude?”

“I… I’m verklempt. That was a beautiful moment.” Savino glanced over and saw that Germany wasn’t the only one. Veneziano, Seborga, and Prussia were all standing in the entryway, and they all looked misty-eyed.

Romano groaned and turned to bury his face in America’s ridiculous t-shirt. “Seriously, did you come out here to fucking spy on us?! What the hell is wrong with you?!” America squeezed his arm around him in a silent gesture of support. He could probably tell how embarrassed Romano was.

“Well, you were the one who decided to run out the front door suddenly,” Marcello said teasingly. “You can’t blame us for wanting to see what was going on.”

Veneziano piled on. “It’s nice of you to visit us on our birthday, America. You can come inside if you want, or you can stay out here and kiss Savi some more.”

Romano growled and turned to shoot vicious glares at both of his brothers, but America didn’t seem bothered at all. “As tempting as it sounds to stand here and kiss Vinny all day, I think I’ll come inside.” He dropped his arm from around Savino’s shoulders and presented him with the floral bouquet he somehow hadn’t noticed earlier in his mad dash to the door. “These are for you.”

“Grazie.” Savino smiled as he bent his head to sniff the bouquet of red roses mixed with white lilies. The symbolism wasn’t lost on him.

“Anything for you,” America whispered, too quietly for the others to hear. He pressed a kiss to Savino’s cheek, grabbed his wheeled suitcase, and dangled out his free hand as they headed into the house behind the others.

Romano grabbed America’s hand and laced their fingers together. This was the best birthday he’d ever had, and it was due in no small part to the fact America was holding his hand right now and smiling like he was the one who had received everything he ever wanted.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding High Ch1: Jodhpurs and Jeans

Chapter Summary: Frank Adler is a single man in his early 30s, simply doing his best to raise his genius niece Mary. After a passing comment from his well-meaning neighbour, land-lady and friend, he decides that before he enrols her into school she needs to learn some social skills and pick up a hobby to help her interact with kids her own age. 

Felicity (Fliss) Gallagher is a single woman in her early 30s. An British Olympic Gold Medal winning Showjumper who was forced into early retirement due to a nasty accident, she’s now settled in South Pasadena running Sandybrook Stables, an Equestrian Centre which provide both boarding and teaching services.

Mary decides she wants to learn how to ride… meaning the two of them meet for the first time

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. 

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher 

A/N: So yeah, this one’s been buzzing in my head for AGES now. As you all know, I’m a Brit so I’m REALLY sorry if too much British horsey lingo slips into this…ASK away if you don’t understand. As means of an explanation in the UK we have 3 main types of stables. We have Riding Schools (which focus solely on providing riding lessons), Livery Yards (which are places where owners board their horses) and Equestrian Centres (which do both). After a bit of research it seems that EC also translates across the pond and means the same thing so…just bear with me on this and run with it!

Tagging all my SSB/CSI readers…if you want in or off the list PLEASE just tell me

As always I’m a ho for a REBLOG and COMMENT!

And yes, the woman in the photos in the cover banner on and with the Chestnut is me and my wonderful, wonderful old girl who I lost 2 years ago…

Chapter Song: Driftwood by Travis 

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

August 2017

 “I’m holding you solely responsible for this.” Frank short Roberta a glare as Mary bounced over to the truck, her blonde hair swinging slightly as she skipped.

“All I said was that it might be useful to have her interact with kids her own age before you throw her into a school, which for the record, I still think is a dumbass idea Frank.” “Input noted and duly ignored…” Frank rolled his eyes “She needs to go to school. Have some kind of variant on a normal childhood.”

Roberta took a deep breath and simply shrugged “On your head be it.”

“Come on Frank!” Mary shouted, standing up on the ledge of the truck “we’re gonna be late!”

“It’s 20 minutes tops to Pinellas Park…” Frank looked at her “We got half an hour, chill out Stack”

“My name’s Mary not Short Stack…” she sing songed back.

“Don’t I know it…” Frank said, looking at her before he turned back to Roberta “I’ll see you later.”

“Hmmm” she nodded, and with that he rolled his eyes again and headed to the truck.

“You know you’re not actually gonna get to ride anything today right?” he asked, turning to his niece.

“No, but I’m still gonna see the ponies.” she said, smiling. “Why can’t we bring Fred?”

“Because a horse might step on him.” Frank said, before he paused. “Actually, shall we take him?” Mary narrowed her eyes at him “That’s mean.” He chuckled, ruffled her hair and started up the truck.

******

“Ok, now soften your outside hand…” Fliss called out across the paddock, as the woman riding the tall, bay warmblood circled her “Yeah, you feel that. He’s taking the contact now, not leaning against your hand. So when you feel that softening, that’s when you need to push with your inside leg…and if is he isn’t listening a soft tap up with the stick…” She watched again from behind her Oakley wraparounds, smiling as the horse extended nicely down the long side of the school.

“Yeah, there you go!” she shouted encouragingly, “Now bring him round again and this time at the corner, pop him into canter…” She took a quick glance at her watch. She was running slightly behind, but what else was new? She would never leave a lesson, regardless, until her client had achieved something, even if it was what they dubbed a small victory. End on a high was her motto, and this was no different. Ever since Lucy had brought Jensen out of his stable, Fliss could see the horse was in one of his awkward moods so she’d had to switch out her plan a little. It had worked and he’d settled after about 15 minutes of being an obstinate shit and he was working quite nicely.

“Good!” She shouted, pacing slightly “Now let’s see if we can extend this a little…” Lucy sat up tall, pushed through her legs and the horse bounded down the side. Fliss grinned, less than 6 months ago Lucy hadn’t even been able to keep the horse in a trot, now here she was producing an extended canter. Moments like this made her job so worthwhile…

“Ok, bring him back down…” she said, “And into trot…and walk…”

Fliss headed over to her client and smiled as she walked alongside her “That was really good Luce…you happy?” “I’m over the moon!” The teenager grinned “I can’t believe it…he went so well!”

“Yeah because you rode him well.” Fliss smiled “You know, I seriously think you should consider a Dressage Competition.” 

“You think?”

“Yeah, I do. I know you don’t have a horse of your own but you can borrow Cap if you want…have a think about it.” “I will, thanks Fliss.”

Fliss smiled, gave the horse a pat and headed back to the gate.

“Joanne?” she called, and one of her grooms appeared. “Can you just supervise Lucy cooling him off. I’ve got someone bringing their daughter in at 11 am that should be here any time soon.”

“Sure.” Joanne nodded “Oh, they back barn has been mucked out but I’ve not had chance to scrub the water buckets out.” “It’s ok, you can do it after lunch” Fliss nodded. “the automatics are getting installed in a month or so which should make it a little easier.”

She patted Joanne on the shoulder and made her way into the office. Reaching for a file she dug out a Registration Form and a Liability Waiver and set them on the desk before she took a quick glance in the mirror. Satisfied that her auburn hair was tamed and there was no hay stick in it she nodded to herself and walked back on the yard, just in time to see a tall, well build dark haired man desperately trying to control a blonde haired girl who was looking around in glee and pointing.

“Hi…” she walked over, momentarily stuck by how damned good looking this guy was. He was dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt which perfectly accentuated his toned upper body. His chiselled jawline which was covered in a short, stubbled beard, soft spikey dark hair, and he flashed her a smile that made the corners of his aviator covered eyes crinkle. A smile that made her clear her throat. “I’m Fliss, you must be Mr Adler.”

Frank looked at the woman in front of him, glad that his glasses hid the fact he was blatantly eyeing her up and down. Dressed in a pair of long riding boots, tight navy blue jodhpurs with a white belt around the top, and a tight pink polo shirt he could see every curve she possessed. But it was the smile she flashed him that made him feel like some kind of teenage school kid again.  “Frank, please.” “Nice to meet you.” Fliss smiled before turning to Mary “And what can I call you Miss?” “Mary.” she said, looking up “Are all these horses yours?”

Fliss chuckled. “No not all of them. 9 belong to me. 3 are my personal ones, then I have 6 that work in the riding school and the other 6 are boarders.” “Oh.” she said, looking around. “So which one can I ride.” “Mary…” Frank chastised her softly as he looked down at her, before glancing back at Fliss “Sorry, she’s excited.” Fliss laughed and shook her head “It’s fine, I love to see it.”

She turned to Mary and then in an exaggerated whisper so that Frank could here said “I’ll let you into a secret, I always put the new kids on Monty because he’s awesome and looks after everyone…and he especially likes girls. He’s a ladies man. You wanna meet him?” Mary nodded eagerly and Fliss looked up at Frank, seeking his permission. He nodded and gestured with his head and she straightened up before leading Mary across the yard to the barn on the opposite side.

Frank stayed where he was for a moment, watching her ass as she walked before he mentally slapped himself and followed.

Fliss led them both into the airy barn, pushing up her sunglasses and down to 2 of the smaller stables at the far end. She stopped at one that contained a small, grey pony who gave a little nicker and stuck his head over the door.

“Monty, meet Mary…” she said with a smile as Mary gently reached up to stroke the pony’s soft nose. 

“He’s really pretty.” Mary said, appraisingly. 

“Yeah he’s awesome.” Fliss smiled, “And he’s a good boy too.” “Can I go in the stable?” Mary asked.

“Erm… if your dad says it’s ok?” Fliss looked at Frank who was tucking his sunglasses down the front of his shirt.

“I’m not her dad.” Frank shook his head “I’m her uncle.” “Oh, sorry.” Fliss frowned “I just assumed.”

“I get it a lot.” he said, waving her apology away “But I am her legal guardian so…”

Fliss nodded, studying him for a moment. There was clearly a bit more to that story but it wasn’t her business to pry.

“Can I?” Mary looked at him and he nodded. 

“Ok so, Monty is really good and nothing scares him but with all horses you should always be quiet and not jump or shout.” Fliss instructed and Frank had to smile as Mary nodded seriously. He hadn’t seen her this engrossed in anything other than books for a long time. Maybe Roberta had been right.

Fliss unbolted the stable door and walked in, leading Mary in after her. She showed her where he liked to be scratched and Mary giggled as she rubbed at the spot on the pony’s withers and he began to tilt his head to the side, lips moving against Fliss’s arm as he nuzzled into her.

“What’s he doing?” Mary asked.

“It’s called grooming.” Fliss explained “So he is mimicking what you’re doing to him to me, see? It’s how they show affection in the wild. Sometimes they can get a bit carried away and they nip but they don’t mean to be nasty or bite.”

She looked over to Frank, keeping one eye on the small girl who was engrossed in petting Monty and looked at him “So, are you just after her learning to ride then or…” Frank nodded “It’s a long story but, she needs a hobby and this was the only thing that seemed to get her excited. Of course it would be the one that will milk me dry…” he said, raising his voice a little.

“Spend less money on beer when you go out tonight” she shot back, and Fliss gave a loud bark of a laugh as Frank, shook his head.

“See what I gotta put up with?” he snorted.

“You should talk to my dad about it.” she laughed “I bled him dry due to horses as a kid, especially when I was up and down the UK competing!” “I was gonna say your accent isn’t local.” he said, smiling.

“Neither is yours.” she shot back “New England?” He cocked his head, momentarily surprised. He didn’t think his accent was that strong considering.

“Boston.” he nodded, “But I aint lived there in a while.” “I lived in Concorde” she explained, noticing his puzzled glance 

“Huh, no kidding.” he smiled “Cambridge.” “Nice state.” Fliss smiled “I loved it.”

“What made you end up here?”

Fliss hesitated for a while. “Erm..” “Sorry, you don’t need to explain, I was just a little curious.” “No, it’s fine just a long and complicated story.” Fliss said, scratching her temple “The abridged version is my marriage broke down and my mum and dad retired out here so I joined them.” She was avoiding his eyes slightly. Frank was smart enough to realise there was slightly more to it than that but he was tactful enough not to press. Besides, it was really none of his business.

“How about you? What you running from?” “What makes you think I’m running from anything?” he asked.

“Aren’t we all?” she looked at him, her deep brown eyes locked onto his.

He hesitated for a moment and then shrugged “Again, a long and complicated story but I wanted to give Mary a life away from hassle. And there was a lot of that in Boston.” He held her gaze and she simply nodded, before turning back to Mary.

“Ok Mary, how about we head into the office, get some forms signed and we can see about booking you in for your first lesson?” Frank watched as Fliss explained the importance of the kick-bolt on the bottom of the stable and showed her how to lock it before they three of them headed back onto the yard.

“Fliss, sorry to interrupt but do you want Cap and Bolt turned out?” a young girl with blonde hair approached them.

“Yeah, they’re not working again today.” Fliss said, “But take them one at a time. Bolt’s taking to being a bit bargey. If he starts wrap the lead-rope round his nose.” “Will do.” “Thanks Jo.” she smiled, and they continued walking.

“What’s bargey?” Mary asked.

“Pushy.” Frank looked at her “Bossy.” “Like you?” Frank shot her a look and saw Fliss smiling to herself as she overheard.

“Or it could mean pain in the ass like you.” he said. “Rude.” Mary shot back as Fliss opened the door to the office. Frank leaned over to hold it open.

“Thanks.” she looked at him smiling. He stepped in after Mary and they both stood, looking around taking it all in.

There was a large photo on the wall to the left, of someone, he presumed Fliss, on a horse jumping an obscenely high fence. On the wall at the back was a number of shelves, one containing files and the others a few more framed photos, one taken outside the gates to the yard of Fliss and a few others, he assumed her staff, and the other contained a number of trophies and a…

“Woah!” Mary said, scooting over “Is that yours?” “Sure is.” Fliss beamed, reaching up to retrieve the box frame. She led it flat on the desk and Mary scrambled up onto the chair to take a closer look.

The frame was split into 2. On the right hand side was a photo of Fliss dressed in competition gear, navy jacket, red piping, white jodhs and a navy hat. She had a smile on her face that was literally ear to ear and round her neck sat the gold medal which was displayed in the left of the frame.

“London 2012…” Mary read the small plaque at the bottom “Frank, look…” “I can see.” he said, surprise evident in his tone. He looked at the woman “You were in the Olympics?” “Yeah.” she smiled “Only one though. Trained for years to get there…”

“Why only one?” Mary looked at her.

“Mary.” Frank groaned “Stop being nosey.” “It’s ok.” Fliss chuckled “A few months later at the World Championships I had a nasty accident. I damaged my back and it took me nearly 6 months to recover. Sadly I lost my place on the team.” “Oh, that’s sad.” Mary looked at her.

“It’s a dog eat dog world kid.” Fliss shrugged “Not all bad though, I got into the training side of things which was great. Just didn’t work out.” There was a moments pause and Fliss replaced the photo and turned to Frank “Can I get you anything to drink?” “No, I’m good thanks.” he smiled.

“Ok, so…” Fliss said, “Mary I’m gonna need my seat back sweetie.” Mary obligingly jumped back down and Fliss took her vacated place, gesturing to the chair by the desk. Frank sat in it and Mary immediately jumped into his lap, her bare legs brushing slightly as she swung them to and fro.

“I have a few forms that you need to fill in and sign.” she said, apologetically “Legal stuff, contact details, waivers, that kind of thing. Safety is paramount at Sandybrook but, accidents to happen. Horse riding can be a dangerous sport…falls happen… as I know only too well.” Frank smiled and nodded.

“But I can give you those to take home, you can bring them with you when you come back.”  she said, reaching into her desk drawer. She pulled out a glossy leaflet and opened it. “Our price list is here. I’m not a huge outfit, I don’t have more than 3 kids on a lesson at a time. Mainly because I don’t have the horses but I prefer to focus on the students, not the profit. I try to keep overheads down as much as I can to keep the costs low…”

She bit her lip, she hated this part of the job, the sales patter as her dad called it. “So it really depends on what you want to do as to how expensive it is. Group lessons are $20 for 45 minutes and individual lessons are $30 for 30. I do always insist on an individual lesson first, but that’s discounted to $20 for the first one.” Frank nodded, it wasn’t cheap but they’d manage. He’d already explained to Mary that she wouldn’t be able to do it every week, but he could certainly stretch to once a fortnight.

“That’s reasonable.” he said after a pause.

Fliss smiled “I’ve only been 6 months or so now, but I’m planning on starting up a few Own a Pony days where the kids can come down and learn how to care for the horses as well as just ride. But that’s all in the planning stages.” “Well you have a good set up.” he said, and she beamed back.

“Thank you, a lot of graft went into setting it up. My mom and dad’s retirement didn’t start out quite as quiet as they had planned!”

“I can imagine.” 

“Ok,so…the real expensive outlay is gonna come at the start.” she said, turning to Mary “You’ll need some boots and a hat kiddo.” Mary grinned up at Frank.

“I do have hats I can loan for a few lessons but it is better if they have their own.” she looked at Frank. “It’s the one thing I don’t recommend getting second hand. But boots and jodhpurs etcetera you can pick up on e-bay and the like.” Frank nodded “And the hat?”

“There’s a great store not far from here…hang on…”  she dug in her drawer again and produced a flier. “Here… the kid stuff is pretty reasonable to be fair, you’re probably looking at about $30 for a decent hat but they’ll help you out. If you take my brochure in you’ll get a 20% discount too.”

Mary took the flier from her and began examining it.

“That’s really it.” Fliss said, as she completed her mental check list “So all that’s left is to either book you in or you can call me…” “Please Frank!” Mary looked at him “Can we book?” Frank nodded “If you want.” “I do…” “Ok…what availability do you have?” Fliss opened the laptop and entered the diary and looked for a free spot.” “Does Wednesday at 1 suit?” she offered “I know once school starts you’ll probably want a weekend or evening but. whilst it’s the holidays does that work?”

Frank nodded “Yeah that’s fine. I can jiggle work around” Fliss tapped on the keyboard and smiled “All booked. If you want to leave me your number I send a text update out the night before just as a reminder.” Frank smiled, and gave out her number which she stored in the diary slot and then clicked saved “All done…guess I’ll see you Wednesday.” “Thanks.” he smiled “And thanks for showing us around.” “Not a problem.” she shook her head “Always important the clients get the tour of the place, to make sure they like it.” “Its awesome.” Mary looked up “Can we go here on the way home.” Frank sighed and looked at Fliss raising an eyebrow. She laughed. 

“Yeah, get used to it. Once you get that horse smell on your hands it’s kind of an addiction.” “Frank hates animals.” Mary shrugged.

“I don’t hate animals.” Frank shook his head.

“You hate Fred.” “No, I don’t”

“You said before we should bring him so a horse steps on him.” Frank inwardly groaned as Fliss gave a chuckle.

“Fred is my cat.” Mary explained.

“Good name.” Fliss said “I have a few yard cats hanging around, they keep the mice at bay. And that reminds me, I haven’t seen Thor in a while…”

“Thor?” Mary looked at her

“Yeah, my dog…” she stood up and opened the office door, giving a sharp whistle. “He never goes far.” As if on cue a large german shepherd came lolling down the yard to greet them. Frank eyed the dog, it was huge. Mary, right on cue jumped down off his lap.

“Can I stroke him?” “Go right ahead.” Fliss said, she looked at Frank and spotting his face she smiled “He’s a softie, looks the part though.” “Well I wouldn’t mess put it that way.” Frank snorted, standing up.

“Is he named after the Avenger?” Mary looked up “I love those films.”

“Sure is, he used to have a brother called Loki too but, well he died.”

Thor gave Mary a lick causing her to giggle before he flopped onto his side raising his paw.

“He wants a belly rub.” Fliss said, and Mary dropped to her knees to give the dog a tickle. His tail began to wag furiously on the floor and Mary laughed.

Frank watched the girl, smiling. He loved seeing her like this. She was so grown up and serious half the time, he yearned to see her acting like a normal 7 year old. He was reticent to drag her away for that reason but he had work later that afternoon, a boat that needed finishing by Monday afternoon was taking him slightly longer than he had anticipated. 

“Alright short stack, we gotta move…” “Do we hafta?” “Sorry kiddo.” Mary made a face.

“Do you wanna go to the store or not?” Frank shot her a look. “Ok.” she said, jumping up and wiping dusting off her knees.

Fliss walked them to the truck which was parked in the car park and her eyes flew over to her horse wagon, a small 3.5 tonne box. Frank noticed her looking before she turned back to him.

“Yours?” he asked.

“Yeah, I did have a bigger one but, well I don’t use it often enough now to warrant it. Maybe at some point I’ll get back into competing…never say never hey?” He smiled.

“Ok, so I’ll see you Wednesday.” she said To Frank’s utter surprise, Mary walked over to the woman and wrapped her arms around her, giving her waist as squeeze, her head pressing into Fliss’s stomach. Fliss bent over to give the girl a quick hug and smiled.

“It was nice to meet you both.” Fliss released Mary and gently ruffled her hair “I can’t wait to see you ride.” Mary headed over to the passenger side of the truck and stood on the sill so she could yank open the door. Fliss turned to Frank and looked at him, frowning slightly.

“Sorry, was that too much? I just…well she…” “Oh,God,no…” Frank stuttered, hastily shaking his head. “It’s just…well she’s never usually that affectionate with strangers. Not that you’re a stranger I suppose, not anymore but…” he shrugged.

“I’m flattered then.” Fliss said, her pretty face cracking into a smile which Frank couldn’t help but return. There was a moment of silence where he simply looked at her before he started suddenly.

“I should…” he gestured to the truck with his keys.

“Yeah, sorry. Have a good day Mr Adler…” “Frank…” “Frank.” she corrected herself with another gorgeous smile “I’ll see you Wednesday.” With another  nod he walked to the truck and Fliss turned and headed back to the yard.

He climbed in and turned to Mary who was looking at him, smirking in a smug way that was well beyond her 7 years.

“What?” he demanded.

“You like her.” Mary snorted.

“She’s a nice girl, I mean woman…lady…”

Mary didn’t say a word, simply sat back as Frank reached around for her belt before doing his own and setting the truck into reverse. Sometimes she was far too observant for her own good. *****

“If she gives you any trouble just tie her up on the porch.” Frank said as Mary settled on the couch in Roberta’s trailer. Roberta snorted and Mary glared at him.

“The only one who gives me trouble around here is you Frank Adler.” Roberta shot back. “Now scoot, Mary’s gotta tell me all about this pretty girl at the stables she says you’re sweet on.” “Jesus…” Frank groaned “I’m not sweet on her, she was just nice.”

“He googled her.” Mary said.

“You googled her” Roberta intoned.

“I was curious ok?” Frank said “And you asked me to!” “She’s an Olympic Gold medallist.” Mary chanted, draping herself over the arm of the sofa, head hanging, hair brushing the floor “At London 2012 but then she had an accident in the World Championships later that year and she broke 2 vertebrae…she didn’t compete again. And she was married to a guy called John. He was on the US Equestrian team but they’re divorced now. He’s in prison…but Frank didn’t tell me why.” “Because it’s none of your business, and you don’t mention it to her.” Frank said sternly, cutting her off.

Roberta looked at him curiously “But you’re not interested in her. At all.” “Like I said, curious.” he shrugged “Especially if she’s gonna be teaching Mary.”

“Mmmhmmm.” Roberta dropped her hands to her hips “Whatever you say honey…” Frank sighed and then looked at Mary. “Be good.” “I will, see you in the morning…” 

He nodded and then headed out. It was a pleasant evening, the heat of the day had died down to an acceptable level and the 10 minute walk down to the small strip of bars wasn’t as sticky as normal. It passed fairly quickly, he was lost in thought about the woman he had met before. It had made for surprising reading, a child star on the circuit the accident had cruelly robbed her of a future in the sport 5 years ago, and from the sounds of it her ass-hat ex-husband had stolen 3 years of her life too. Still, as he had told Mary, it was none of their business.

He yanked the door open to Fergs and headed over to the bar. Ordering his usual he perched on a stool and pulled over one of the papers, flicking it open. Taking a pull of the beer he was handed, he let out a sigh. Friday nights were always his time, his one night of the week where he wasn’t Frank with the Dead Sister and the child genius niece to bring up. He was just plain old Frank Adler, perpetual bachelor that might or might not get lucky, depending on how the night went.

Half an hour or so later he was another beer deep and completely lost in his reading. So much so he was barely aware of the body besides him as it slid into the space next to him at the bar. That was until they spoke.

“So how much did she sting you for at the store?”

Frank grinned up at Fliss “Just short of a hundred. New hat, boots and a pair of jodhpurs.” Fliss giggled “Make sure she wears the boots in, they’re a killer for the first few days!” “I’ll bear it in mind.” he smiled “So, you hear alone or…” “Oh, no. It’s my Mum’s birthday so there’s a few of us out.” she said, glancing over her shoulder. Frank followed her eyes and settled on a table full of women who were all laughing. One looked quite similar to Fliss, same face shape and nose, who he assumed to be her mother. “If I’m honest it’s a bit boring considering they’re all over fifty but…” Frank laughed “Well I was gonna offer to buy you a drink but…” She laughed again “Thanks but, there’s a kitty going…” with that she turned to the bar tender. “Hiya, can I get 4 bud lights, a gin and tonic and a vodka soda please?” The bar tender nodded and headed off.

“Mary hasn’t shut up about Monty all afternoon.” Frank said and Fliss smiled.

“Like I said, once they get the bug they’re bitten.” “It’ll be good for her to have a hobby.” Frank repeated his earlier sentiment “She doesn’t get much interaction with kids her age.”

“Oh, what about School?” Fliss asked. Frank hesitated and took a drink from his bottle. Fliss let out a silent groan “Sorry, that’s really none of my business.” “No, it’s fine.” Frank shook his head, swallowing his beer. “She’s err, home schooled at the moment. My neighbour thought a hobby might be a good way for her to kinda do that before she goes to school.”

Fliss smiled “Well she’s not wrong. The kids I teach are great, I don’t stand for any crap, she’ll be welcomed with open arms.”

“Glad to hear it.” Frank smiled “Mary can be a litte…well, I suppose, odd is the right word. She’s old before her age.”

“Oh I know all about that.” Fliss smiled. “I spent most of my childhood training. Didn’t get chance to do much normal kid stuff. I was that focussed on my dream of gold medals…” “And you achieved it.” Frank nodded.

“Yeah, wish it had lasted longer you know, but what can you do.” she shrugged. “Hey, you never know, Mary might find a sudden hidden talent that catapults her into stardom…” Frank stiffened slightly and it didn’t go unnoticed by Fliss. She hesitated for a moment before Frank shook his head and smiled “Maybe, although that would really gonna fuck my bank balance…”

Fliss chuckled, eyeing him slightly. The man was a total mystery. At that the Bar Tender returned with a tray of drinks and she turned to pay him, waving away the change.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you Wednesday.” she smiled “Bye Frank.” “Yeah, have a good evening.” he smiled and she turned and walked away. Frank watched her go, the tight jeans she was wearing accentuated her ass and her legs, helped by the white heels she was wearing. The loose white cami top rode up slightly as she bent over to deposit the tray and when the woman he assumed to be her mother caught his eye and gave a knowing smirk he hastily turned around. 

“Another beer please pal.” he said, waving his empty bottle. 

“Who’s that?”  Verity leaned over to Fliss as she settled in the seat next to her.

“Oh, that’s the guy I was telling you about.” she shrugged “the one who brought his niece up to the Centre this morning.” “I know you said he was good looking but…” 

“Shut up Mum.” Fliss said, flushing slightly 

“You’re old enough to be his mother.” Jane, one of the other women said and the table laughed.

“I wasn’t looking for me…” Fliss rolled her eyes “Seriously?” Verity laughed and placed her arm round her daughter, giving her a squeeze. “I’m just teasing Lissy, its just nice to see you talking to someone, that’s all.” Fliss smiled and grabbed her beer, taking a drink. 

“Who the fuck was that?” John said, pointing across the packed bar to the man that Fliss had just smiled at.

“No one…” Fliss protested “Just a guy from work, that’s all.” “Right…” John said, the nerve in his jaw twitching. Fliss swallowed nervously and gently touched his arm.

“Honestly, he works at the stables. I was just being polite.”

“He’s eye fucking you.” “No, he’s not…” Fliss rolled her eyes and immediately realised what he had done when John gripped her chin painfully between his thumb and forefinger.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me.” he practically snarled.

“I’m sorry…” Fliss said, the tears springing forth “John you’re hurting me…” He let go and she dropped her head, turning back to the bar. She picked up her drink and took a long pull from the bottle, trying to compose herself. Her hand was shaking, she’d made him angry. 

And she knew what that meant…

“Hey…” her mother’s voice shook her out of the memory and she looked up at her. “Oh Liss…”

“I’m ok…” she said, taking a breath

Her mother looked at her again, and Fliss knew she was busted. “I was just…having a flash back that’s all.”

“He’s not here.” Verity dropped her voice “That fucker is where he belongs, behind bars and he won’t be bothering you again. Me and your dad promised you that…and we meant it.”

“I know, honestly I’m fine…” Fliss assured her mum who leaned over and gave her temple a soft kiss.

Fliss smiled back and shooting one last glance at Frank, who has his back to the table as he continued his reading, she turned to the women and threw herself into the conversation

 @the-omni-princess​​  @momobaby227​​ @geekofmanythings16​​ @angelofhell-666​​ @thewackywriter​​ @marvelfansworld​​​  @cobalt-gear​​  @asgardlover75​​ @jennmurawski13​​​​  @jtargaryen18​​​ @saiyanprincessswanie​​​  @navispalace​​​ @patzammit​​​  @joannaliceevans-fanficblog​​​  @icanfeelastormbrewing​​​ @djeniiscorner​​​  @ayamenimthiriel​​​  @coldmuffinbanditshoe​​​  @disneylovingal​​​ @madzmilllz​​  @sgtjaamesbaarnes​​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​​  @southerngracela​  @goldenfightergir​ @kellymat​ @official-and-unstable-satan​

[marvelsbanner]

Thanks for tagging me @king-star 💞

Rules: Answer 30 questions and tag some blogs you’d like to get to know better

(Pls don’t feel obligated to do this lol but if you’d like to, be my guest! @banner-swift @blackreaders-assemble @whisperlullaby @diorskywalker @nermalina )

1. Name/nickname: Hope

2. Gender: Good question lmfao, she/they tho :-)

3. Star sign: Scorpio

4. Height: 5’6

5. Time: 9:55 am

6. Birthday: November 18

7. Favorite bands: Saint Motel, Mother Mother, Arctic Monkeys, The 1975, The Neighborhood, Fall out Boy, Queen

8. Favorite solo artists: Harry Styles, Taylor Swift, Jon Bellion, Childish Gambino, David Bowie, Prince Declan Mckenna

9. Song stuck in my head: Agatha all Along

10. Last movie: Thanks for Sharing (MARK RUFFALO IS SO FUCKING HOT OH MY GOD)

11. Last show: WandaVision

12. When did I make this blog? I’ve had this acc for years but only started using it like a month ago at tops, maybe less.

13. What I post: Anything and everything marvel baybee, the occasional fic as well ;)

14. Last thing I googled: Yelena Belova (iykyk)

15. Other blogs: The only other one I have is recovery based and i’d rather keep these two worlds separate :-)

16. Do I get asks: Not often

17. Why did I choose my url: My undying love for Bruce Banner

18. Following: All marvel blogs

19. Followers: 88

20. Average hours of sleep: 7

21. Lucky number: Don’t really have one?

22. Instruments: Little piano, little uke (could probably still kick ass on the recorder 😎 LMFAO)

23. What am I wearing right now: An oversized blue Captain America t shirt and blue men’s basketball shorts that i stole from my friend

24. Dream trip: Backpacking through Europe, Visiting Bali, Iceland for sure. I wanna visit every continent and all the wonders of the world.

25. Favorite food: Curry

26. Nationality: American

27. Favorite song: Sweater Weather by the Neighborhood (yeah i know i’m fuckin gay)

28. Last book I read: ......would you believe me if i told you it was the communist manifesto LMFAO

29. Top 3 Fictional Universes: Mcu, Harry Potter, Storybrooke

30. Favorite color: I don’t really have one, it’s always changing. I’m fond of forrest green though

[yourdeepestfathoms]

The Crucible (part eight)

[Carrie AU; UK Tour]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 

Word count: 10,126

TW: None, for once lol

---------------------------

-Dreamer In Disguise-

  “Tell us about the night of May 28th. Of the events leading up to the incident.”

Katherine grit her teeth tightly, then exhaled a sharp breath through her nose, releasing her mounting anger. Her eyes were stinging, like fire ants were infested in the sockets and wouldn’t come out no matter how hard she scratched. Her face was still blotchy and washed out from crying, but she held herself as confidently as always, not willing to give into the crime Mulaney so desperately wanted her to be a part of.

  “It was meant to be a celebration.” Katherine said strongly. Her voice held no evidence that she had been crying just a few minutes ago. “It was supposed to be the biggest night of our high school lives. The ending of one chapter and the beginning of the next. If only--” Her words caught for a moment, but she would not break again. “If only--”

  “If only what?” Mulaney urged.

  “If only I hadn’t told Anna to go to prom with Joan!” Katherine exploded, slamming her palms on the table and making even Madeline jump and Mulaney look at her more warily. It pleased her, and she eased back down, steadying her sharpening breath. “Then maybe nobody would have died. But just because I should have done that, doesn’t mean I regret having her go.”

Mulaney’s eyes glinted and he leaned in, hungry for a confession.

  “Anna sent me a picture.” Katherine said. She took out her phone and slid it over the tabletop. The screen showed an image of Anna and Joan, grinning brightly at the camera with two other kids, George Boleyn, Anne’s younger brother, and his girlfriend, Jane Parker. “Look at how happy she is… I’ve never seen her smile like that before. So carefree and peaceful…”

She put her phone back into her pocket and shook her head. She blew out a sigh from her nose.

  “That’s why I don’t wish I didn’t have Anna ask her.” She said. “She was happy for the first time in her life. Truly happy. And who am I to take that away from her?”

Her eyes began to burn again. She fingered her shredded tissue, a whirlwind of emotions storming inside her skull. She wanted to release it on this skeptical detective before her and show him that she was innocent.

  “I hope it was good for her. That prom. Before things went to hell.”

------

It was like a dream. An actual perfect dream.

The prom glimmered in droplets of amber and gold, sapphire and jade, obsidian and pearl. Fragments of gods and goddesses and mythical creatures prowled across the walls in detailed murals, capturing ancient battles in their canvases forever.

The gym had been morphed into a huge, vaulted space that hummed with activity. Intricately carved Greek pillars and spires and arches dotted the space, and green and silver drapes of silk dipped from the ceiling. White fairy lights were lit up everywhere, casting soft glows across various tapestries and weavings decorating the walls and architecture. Miniature recreations of temples acted as buffets for the hundreds of partygoers, bearing chips and cookies and cakes and other treats. There was even a large bowl-like piece that was shaped like the Great Theater of Epidaurus, holding salad condiments around the wide sides and lettuce in the middle. A chocolate fountain burbled on a nearby table, the most modern-looking piece of decor in there.

The food temples encircled a giant white fake-marble tree that the origins of were unknown to mostly everyone. The trunk was carved with intricate designs that looked like they had taken hours to scratch away, and the lush shrubbery it bore was braided with silver lights, making the entire decoration a beacon of sterling radiance. Transparent ice blue globes hung from the many reaching branches, lit up with fake candles inside of their hallowed out interior. They glowed like captured moons within the party.

The stage was set up to look like the Parthenon, with white pillars along the apron and wings, coiled by ivy and flowers. Golden and iridescent fabric braided the top, glistening in the fairy lights. A hired band was set up at the center, along with the DJ booth, which played most of the music. Behind them were the thrones for prom king and queen, all shiny and poised, ready for their royals.

Music catapulted around the high, canvas-covered walls like thread winding around and around the assembled students. The sound seemed to swallow Joan up, reverberating in her bones. Partygoers whirled together on the dance floor, the colors of their suits and dresses sparkling in bright tornadoes. They stomped and jumped and clapped in time to the beat of the music, a kaleidoscope of rainbow rhythm.

However, the highlight of the ball were the sculptures. There were at least ten different elaborate carvings sparkling importantly in the party space. Twisting spirals, weaving tendrils, and delicate beads mingled with glorious bells and vast shipwrecks, towering trees and clusters of griffon feathers. Joan wanted to run her hands over all of their smooth, bubbly surfaces.

  “Anna.” Joan squeezed Anna’s arm tightly. “Anna, Anna, Anna, Anna--”

  “Yeah?” Anna looked down at her.

  “Look.” Joan pointed to the sculpture garden with her free hand. 

  “Wanna go look at them?”

Joan nodded vigorously. Anna chuckled. They both began to walk over, and Joan nearly dragged Anna when she leapt forward to look at the closest sculpture, a beautiful, branching ice tree with fat orbs of sugary fruit. 

  “It’s so pretty…” Joan murmured, her eyes sparkling. 

  “No wonder it’s so cold in here,” Anna observed. “They have to keep these from melting. Damn, this must have taken forever.”

  “Yeah…” Joan nodded slowly, like she was taking in the secrets of the universe. “Ooh, look at that one!”

The two of them went over to a sculpture of roaring waves with captured pieces of poetry within their depths. Joan ogled at the ice with great interest, taking the time to read every piece of paper inside. Anna patiently let her, smiling at her look of awestruck wonderment. She was glad she was distracted so she didn’t notice all the stares they were getting.

But Joan did. She had picked up on it from the moment they stepped inside. It seemed like everyone in the entire gym was staring at her like she was an alien from outer space. She did her best to ignore all of them, but she could feel their eyes burning holes into her skin.

She’s never felt so exposed before, not even in the showers last Friday.

  “Why, Anna von Cleves!”

A voice cut through the music and talking and laughter rebounding throughout the gym. Joan spun around and saw two people approaching them- a brunette boy with amber eyes, wearing a black tux, a silvery grey undershirt peeking out around the collar, and a blood red rose boutonniere, and a girl she didn’t recognize. She was taller than her date and had curled dirty blonde hair and grey-green eyes. Her dress was long and flowing, ebony black like the boy’s but dappled with silver specks like stars. The straps were thin and the bodice was gathered and fitted snugly against her bust.

  “George!” Anna embraced the boy tightly in one of those “man hugs” men always seem to do, rapping his back so hard it sounded a little painful.

  “You look good enough to eat, honey!” George whistled, looking Anna up and down.

  “Some would say I am delicious.” Anna said.

  “Okay, if you two knew how many people thought you were dating, you wouldn’t be joking about it.” The girl piped up, looking amused.

  “Tell Anna to stop looking so goddamn queer!” George chortled.

  “You know I always gotta look a little lesbo.” Anna said.

Then, George raised his fists and Joan flinched back a little. She flexed her powers, prepared to save Anna, but then Anna raised her fists, too, and began throwing playful jabs and poked at George’s stomach and chest. George did the same, and they began circling each other like two tuxedo-clad cats standing off against each other for a dead mouse. Joan realized that it was a game of sorts.

  “Don’t let it bother you,” The girl said to Joan. “If they kill each other, I’ll dance with you.”

Joan couldn’t smother the smile that came to her lips. She looked down shyly for a moment, then lifted her head again to watch George’s and Anna’s sparring match. Anna tagged George twice, then got jabbed in the waist. They kept grunting and gobbling playful threats to each other.

  “They’re too silly to kill,” Joan observed, tilting her head at them. “Like dinosaurs.”

The girl laughed and smiled, and Joan felt something warm flood through her.

Was this what delight felt like?

  “Joan,” Anna said. She and George had stopped fighting and she now had an arm around his shoulders. “This is my best buddy, George Boleyn! And this is his girlfriend, Jane Parker. She goes to Chamberlain.”

She didn’t go to Kingston. So maybe that’s why she was being so friendly.

Joan liked it.

  “George, Jane, this is Joan.” Anna continued.

  “Joan, hi,” Jane smiled down at the girl.

  “Joan!” George exclaimed. “Oh shit. Hey, can I just personally apologize for all my sister’s bullshit? I wish I could say she isn’t always like that, but…” He trailed off with a dry laugh.

  “Wait…” Joan began to put the pieces together. “George Boleyn… You’re Anne’s brother?”

George laughed. “Yup. The youngest of the bunch. We have an older sister in college named Mary. She turned out pretty okay.”

  “...I’m sorry.”

George burst out into even louder laughter. He shook Anna’s side, wiping a tear from his eyes.

  “Oh, Anna, I love this girl!” He said.

Joan blushed dark red, ducking her head. Anna grinned at her.

  “She’s great, isn’t she?” She said.

There was a light touch on Joan’s shoulder, warm and soft, easy for her to shrug off if she wanted. She turned her head to see that it was Jane’s hand.

  “I love your dress,” Jane said. “Where did you get it?”

  “I made it.” Joan told her.

  “Made it?” Jane gaped, looking the length of the sparkling silk gown up and down. “No shit!”

Joan blinked a few times, then echoed, “No shit.”

Jane laughed. Anna grinned even more. Joan felt like a sinful little rebel.

  “You really made that?” George asked.

  “Oh, now who’s queer?” Anna said, earning her a smack on the arm.

  “I did.” Joan answered George. “I like to sew.”

  “You have got to teach me sometime!” Anna said. “I tried before but it didn’t turn out so well. A sweater somehow became a snake warmer.”

They all laughed. Joan felt glee bubbling up inside of her the longer and longer she talked to Anna and her friends. It was so nice to be a part of conversations and share her talents with other people.

  “Yeah, of course,” Joan said to Anna. 

  “Hey, ladies,” Said a heavily sneering voice. “And Anne’s brother.”

Maggie, Maria, and a boy came gliding over. Maggie was wearing a pure white toga with gold lace to fit the Greek theme, while the boy, tall and tired-looking, was in a maroon tux. Maria wore a bright tangerine orange dress that had no sleeves and was loaded with fake jewels to make her gown sparkle.

  “Hello,” Anna said. There was a sort of warning in her voice, like she was daring the three of them to try something and see what happened.

  “Joan!” Maggie exclaimed in a very forced friendly voice. “Wow. You look so...different!”

Joan struggled not to squirm. She didn’t like the way Maggie was looking at her, like she was being sized up. Jane stood tall beside her, a protector of sorts, narrowing her eyes at Maggie.

  “Thanks,” Joan mumbled. The bedazzled gems encrusted on Maria’s dress caught her attention and she looked at her in wonder. “Wow… You’re so shiny.”

Maggie snorted. “Shiny?” She said. “Joan, what are you talking about?”

  “You made The Human Tide,” Joan went on, ignoring her. She lifted one of Maria’s hands in her own, tracing the lines on her palms. “Passion and lust, envy and yearning, wrath and guilt…” She looked up at her, eyes shining. “Did you put some Sylvia Plath in there?”

  “What?” Maggie said uneasily.

  “I-I did,” Maria stammered in an oddly rapt way. “I didn’t think anyone would have noticed… Nobody ever understands my pieces.”

  “I’m very observant,” Joan stated. “Charles Dickens and Edgar Allen Poe and lines from the Odyssey…”

  “Okay, not you’re literally just saying random names.” Maggie said. She looked at the others. “What is going on?”

  “Shh.” George shushed her, earning him an evil glare that he deftly dodged around Anna.

  “It was very beautiful.” Joan said, releasing Maria’s hand.

  “Thank you,” Maria said, wide-eyed. “That--that means a lot. Thank you.”

Joan smiled at her. She looked at Anna in a sort of glance of approval and Anna grinned back at her.

  “This is so fucking weird,” Maggie hissed under her breath, the swept away into the crowd. Maria and her date lingered around.

  “Oh, hey,” George suddenly said to the boy in the maroon tux. “I know you from...Trigonometry? You’re William, right?”

  “Yeah,” The boy, William, nodded.

  “Where’d you get your dress?” Maria asked Joan at the same time.

  “She made it.” Jane said.

  “I made it.”

Maria looked Joan up and down, sort of like Jane did, then said, “Shut up!”

Joan flinched slightly and bristled. “You shut up!”

Maria laughed. Anna set a hand on Joan’s shoulder to relax her, chuckling slightly.

  “Really, you made that?” Maria asked.

Joan nodded. “It’s a really simple pattern. I also got the fabric really cheap.”

  “Wow.” Maria said. “Give it a twirl!”

  “What?”

  “Twirl your dress!” Maria specified, then demonstrated, spinning in a shimmering circle of orange and silver. “Like that!”

  “Oh--” Joan blinked. “Okay.” She twirled for them.

Maria gasped loudly. “LOOK AT YOUR ASS!!!”

Joan yelped and leapt backwards against Anna, eyes bulging. George burst into laughter. William leaned to the side slightly to get a look and nodded in approval. 

  “Now THAT’S queer!” George chortled.

  “Okay, after seeing your ass, the whole ‘nun in street clothes’ thing is no longer acceptable.” Maria said to Joan.

Joan’s bewildered expression does not lessen. In fact, she looked even more confused and startled after hearing that. Jane leaned down to her and whispered, “It was a compliment.”

  “You’re glowing,” Maria said. “You really do look great, Joan. So different!”

Joan blushed shyly. “Thank you.”

Someone gently took Joan’s arm. “Let’s go find our table.” Jane said, and began guiding Joan through the crowd. “Yikes. Why is everyone acting so weird around you?”

  “I’m not--usually like this.” Joan said. “All nice and pretty and dressed up. I’m kinda weird…”

  “I like weird.” Jane said. “It makes you special.”

Joan ducked her head to hide her bashful expression. Jane chuckled.

  “Here we are!” They stop at an empty table that was coiled with ivy and violets. Three candles flickered on the tabletop. Anna and George caught up to them.

  “They’re really trusting us with real candles?” George said, peering at the small flames. “Not the best decision they could have made.”

  “How are you doing?” Anna asked, sitting down next to Joan. “Feeling alright? Need to go out and get some fresh air? I know parties like this can be a little much. With everyone packed together and whatnot.”

Joan’s heart fluttered in her chest. She’s never had someone be so worried about her before. Anna genuinely cared about how she was feeling.

  “I’m okay,” She answered. “It’s a lot, though. I’ve never been to a place like this before. It’s amazing.”

  “It’s not so bad once you get used to it,” Jane put in. 

Joan nodded. “I hope I’m doing okay. Again, this isn’t really my crowd, you know?”

  “You’re doing great.” Anna told her. “Trust me.”

  “Joan?” A voice called.

George leapt to his feet instantly and dragged Jane with him to go visit with another table, saluting Anna and Joan as he careened away. The remaining duo blinked, then realized what he was fleeing from.

It was Miss Aragon.

The gym coach appeared from the crowd in glistening swathes of gold, like an angel descending from heaven. Her dark brown hair was elegantly curled, framing her makeup-covered face perfectly. The dress she wore was smooth, with no wrinkles or frills, and had short sleeves so her muscles could be revealed to wandering eyes. A black pendant hung around her strong neck, glinting like polished onyx in the light.

  “Oh, Miss Aragon!” A smile came to Joan’s face the moment she saw her favorite teacher. “You look incredible!”

  “Thank you.” Miss Aragon said. “You look beautiful.”

Joan ducked her head humbly. “That’s very nice of you,” She said. “I know it isn’t true, but thank you anyway.”

Miss Aragon and Anna both ruffled slightly at that.

  “Don’t be modest,” Miss Aragon said. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

Joan blushed. “Thank you… Really, thank you.”

  “Hey, Miss Aragon!” Anna said to the coach.

  “Anna.”

Joan blinked and glanced back and forth between the two of them. Why did Miss Aragon look so threatening? Why did Anna look slightly nervous? Was there something going on that she didn’t know?

  “You guys want some punch?” Anna said briskly, standing up. She smoothed out her tux and straightened her flower crown. “I heard Henry and Francis spiked it.” She snickered.

  “Oh no,” Joan said in a woebegone voice. “Isn’t it dangerous to drink spikes? What if someone chokes?”

  “Really?” Miss Aragon said to Anna at the same time.

Anna laughed, then noticed Miss Aragon’s unamused, deadpan expression. She stopped instantly.

  “Uh-- No.” She said. “I’m joking.”

Miss Aragon’s expression did not change. Anna cleared her throat, then sidled off towards the food temples. Miss Aragon rolled her eyes and sat down next to Joan.

  “So,” Miss Aragon smiled at her. “Is it everything you dreamed?”

  “It’s nice.” Joan said.

Miss Aragon laughed. “Just nice?”

  “It’s like being on Mars,” Joan admitted. “Now that I’m here, I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do.”

  “I remember my prom,” Miss Aragon mused. Joan tipped her head in interest. “I went with the captain of the basketball team. She was six foot seven inches tall!” They both laughed. “So, I went out and bought a pair of these Stiletto heels so the kiss goodnight would be less awkward. Anyway, we went in her pickup truck, which of course broke down, so we had to walk the last half mile to the prom.”

  “Oh no!” Joan gasped.

  “By the time we finally got there, my feet were so blistered that all I could do was just sit there. I was sure I ruined the night, I couldn’t dance, but you know what? We just sat there and talked for hours. And it turned out to be one of the best nights of my entire life.”

  “Wow,” Joan said. “I’m so happy for you, Miss Aragon! I’m sorry you couldn’t dance, though.”

  “Could have been worse,” Miss Aragon shrugged. “There was this one girl whose boyfriend brought a toy gun so he could pose like James Bond in the picture.”

  “Oh,” Joan giggled, despite not knowing who James Bond was. “He sounds like fun.”

  “Yeah,” Miss Aragon nodded. “He was arrested.”

Joan stopped giggling instantly. Miss Aragon chuckled.

  “But it’s okay.” Miss Aragon said. “It’s just a dance. Not that special.”

Joan nodded. Her gaze began to slide back to the party around them, to the mass of writhing limbs that was the dance floor. Mostly everyone was dancing or talking, but she spotted a few people staring over at her and whispering to each other. Some glanced away when she noticed, pretending they weren’t gossiping about her, while others didn’t even try to make it seem like they weren’t talking behind her back. She turned her head towards them fully, unable to look away, and felt fear and shame bubbling back up inside of her.

(Mama was right Mama was right Mama was right Mama was right)

Miss Aragon smothered those thoughts for her.

  “Are you excited for summer?” Her coach asked. Joan turned her head back to her, successfully pulling her attention away. “Then you’ll be in Year 12. One grade closer until graduation!”

  “I don’t know,” Joan admitted. “Graduation makes me nervous. I don’t even know what I want to study.”

  “That’s understandable,” Miss Aragon said, nodding. “I couldn’t wait to graduate.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yeah,” Miss Aragon said. “I hated high school.”

  “Oh, god.” Joan leaned in. “I do, too. I know you’re not supposed to say that, but I do. I hate it. I hate it so much.”

  “Preach it to the choir.” Miss Aragon said. “No offense.”

Joan smiled slightly. Miss Aragon took one of her hands and stroked the knuckles with her thumb.

  “Just remember,” She said. “Nothing that has happened will matter after graduation. Nothing. Except, you know, things like good grades and studying. You take what you want and leave the rest behind. You don’t even have to see any of these people again if you don’t want to.”

  “I don’t?”

  “No.” Miss Aragon said. “Oh, but I highly recommend the ten year reunion.”

  “Why?” Joan asked eagerly.

  “Everybody’s different. People will say, ‘Oh my god, so-and-so hasn’t changed a bit,’ but they’re LYING.” Miss Aragon told her, a devilish smirk twitching on her lips. “Everybody changes. And not always for the better.” She scanned the crowd, her smirk curving fully. She leaned into Joan, subtly nodding towards a trio of girls in insanely expensive dresses. “Like, those girls over there? Right now, they’re at their peak. They will never be more pretty or more popular, and in ten years, they’ll be fat.” She snickered. “And the fat girls, some of them will be thin, and the cute boys will be bald. The jocks will have beer bellies-- it’s fantastic!”

Joan dissolved into giggles and had to cover her mouth.

  “And the ones who were miserable?”

Joan stopped giggling. She watched Miss Aragon nervously. Her hand was squeezed comfortingly.

  “They turn out just fine.”

A grin came to Joan’s lips and she didn’t try to stamp it down. 

(i’m okay i’ll be okay)

  “They do,” Miss Aragon said, squeezing Joan’s hand again. “So enjoy yourself, and try not to take it too seriously. Everything is going to be okay.”

Joan vaulted into Miss Aragon’s arms, unable to hold herself back. Miss Aragon chuckled and hugged her back, cupping the back of her head to her chest with one hand and rubbing up and down her spine with the other.

  “Thank you,” Joan whispered.

  “Anything for you, sweetheart.” Miss Aragon told her.

  “Woah,” A voice said. “I better not catch you hugging any other girls like that!”

Joan and Miss Aragon parted as Anna set two cups on the table, grinning.

  “Have a good talk?”

  “Uh huh,” Joan nodded.

  “We did.” Miss Aragon said. “And on that note- Anna. Can I speak with you for a moment?”

  “Sure.” Anna said, sounding slightly guarded.

Miss Aragon smiled at Joan and kissed the top of her head before standing up. She took Anna by the arm and guided her away, far out of earshot from Joan.

  “Having fun?” Miss Aragon asked. Her voice wasn’t nearly as loud as the blasting music, but the biting words still cut smoothly through all the noise.

  “Yeah,” Anna nodded. “Yeah, I am. I think Joan is having fun, too. She’s making a lot of progress!” She looked over her shoulder for a moment, seeing that Joan was pulled over to one of the desert tables by Jane and George. George put some whipped cream on a brownie, then handed it to Joan, who observed the canister seriously for a moment and then promptly sprayed herself in the face. She dropped the can with an alarmed screech and tottered backwards as laughter erupted around her. She was laughing, too.

  “That’s good,” Miss Aragon said, smiling fondly at Joan as she was trying to wipe her face off. “I just thought you should know,” She turned her smile to Anna, “that if you show Joan anything less than the time of her life, I will personally see to it that you are expelled.”

Anna gaped at her, mouth hanging open slightly. All the color drained from her face. Miss Aragon narrowed her eyes dangerously, leaning in.

  “Do you understand the words that just came out of my mouth?”

Anna swallowed hard and nodded. Miss Aragon smiled again.

  “Very good.” The coach said, pleased. “Now go get back to her.” She caught Anna’s arm when she tried to walk away. “Oh, and wait for a slow song to dance with her to. She’ll look stupid dancing to anything fast.”

Anna nodded again and was released. She scampered back over to the table, glancing over her shoulder at the coach as she went.

  “Everything okay?” Joan asked as Anna sat back down.

  “Yeah!” Anna answered. “Yeah, don’t worry.” She looked up as a slower song by Billie Eilish began to play. “You wanna dance?”

  “No.” Joan said instantly.

  “Oh--” Anna blinked. “Alright.”

  “Sorry…” Joan hunched her shoulders in. “Maybe later. But not right now, please? I still wanna get settled in completely.”

  “Yeah, of course,” Anna said. “We can just talk, alright?” 

  “I like that idea.”

  “So…” Anna shifted in her seat slightly. She looked Joan over, then plunged into a question she really hoped wouldn’t upset her date (and make her have to retake Year 13 when Miss Aragon found out), “If I may...how’d you get those scars on your hands?”

  “Ah--” Joan coiled her scarred hands into her cowl, looking embarrassed. “Um-- It’s really stupid…”

  “No, no, no--” Anna caught her before she could tuck herself back into the shell she was just starting to come out of. “Hey, why don’t I tell you one of my dumb scar stories?”

Joan looked up at her in interest.

  “Okay, so--” Anna looked around like she was making sure no one was around, despite there being dozens of people all around them. “I have this little hole in my lower stomach because when I was eight, I put a pencil in my pants and it stabbed me when I went to pee.”

Joan instantly burst out into laughter. It was such a pleasant sound to hear coming out of her, slightly high pitched and adorable.

  “Really?” She sputtered out.

  “I swear to god!” Anna said, laughing with her. “You can’t really see it anymore, but you can feel the indent of where the hole is. I also have this bad boy,” She rolled her left pant leg up enough to reveal a giant, faded burn scar on her inner thigh. Joan ogled it.

  “What happened?” The younger girl gaped.

  “When I was 13, me, my younger sister, and my cousin were riding around in a golf cart. My cousin was driving, and he ended up turning in a cul-de-sac way too fast, flipping the entire golf cart on my side. I hit the asphalt and, since I was sitting next to my cousin in the front, that whole loaf fell onto me, breaking his fall and letting him come out completely unscathed. I, however, got this burn.”

  “Wow…” Joan murmured. “Were you scared?”

  “At the time, oh yeah,” Anna said. “My sister wasn’t moving at all. I thought she was dead. So we got a helicopter air lift to the hospital. That was pretty neat!”

  “You aren’t...ashamed of it?” Joan asked softly. “Your scar?”

  “I used to be,” Anna admitted. “But it’s a part of me, you know? It’ll only look worse if I try to get rid of it. Besides, it looks pretty cool, and it's not like anyone sees it that often anyway. It’s always too cold to wear shorts.”

Joan nodded. She unconsciously traced one of the webs of scar tissue lacing across her left hand. She looked up at Anna with courage in her eyes.

  “I stuck my hands in fire.”

Anna raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

  “Uh huh,” Joan nodded. “I found a picture of my father and my Mama threw it into the fire. I tried to grab it and burned myself pretty badly in the process.” She splayed her hands open, revealing the entire spider web of burns to Anna’s eyes. They were white than her already-porcelain skin, like someone had tried to paint over them. “They used to look really bad. All red and peeling a lot. But they’re gotten better, I think.” She rubbed her rough palms together.

  “Wow.” Anna said. “That’s pretty metal.”

Joan looked at her strangely. “They’re not metal? This is skin.” She looked down at the scars.

Anna laughed.

  “So… Did you know him?”

  “Hm?” Joan looked back up at her.

  “Your father.” Anna clarified. “If I may. Did you know him?”

Joan shook her head. “No. He left when I was just a baby.” She paused for a moment, then added, “I have his eyes.”

  “Oh,” Anna said. “I mean, I’m glad the rumors aren’t true. Not that him leaving is a good thing, it absolutely isn’t, but it’s better than people saying--”

  “My Mama killed him?” Joan finished. She looked up at Anna thoughtfully. “I don’t think she did. But you still never know…” She shook her head and rubbed her palms against her dress. “Can we--go outside?”

  “Need some air?” Anna asked.

  “Yeah,” Beads of sweat were welling up on the crown of Joan’s head. “It’s getting kinda hot in here.”

  “Come on.”

The two of them slipped out of the prom through the door that fed into the rest of the school. It was much cooler in that hallway and much quieter, with only dim storm lights turned on overhead. They walked a few paces down until they got to the entrance hall. They sat down on the huge main staircase.

  “Are you okay?” Anna asked, gently touching Joan’s arm. There was worry in her eyes.

  “Yeah,” Joan answered, nodding. “Trust me. I just need to get away from all that noise for a moment.”

  “Gotcha.” Anna said. “It was getting pretty wild in there.”

Joan nodded again. She was staring forward, looking out the huge windows all along the entrance way of the school. The sky was completely black now, even with the layer of clouds, and sheets of drizzling rain could be seen sparkling in the outside lights.

  “So…” Anna said, hoping to ease back into some small talk. “What do you want to study in college? I know you’re only in Year 11, but I’m curious.”

  “Oh, I dunno,” Joan shrugged. “Is sewing an option?”

Anna laughed slightly. “I’m not sure.”

  “What about you?”

  “Something with agriculture,” Anna told her. “I kinda wanna be a game warden. I like animals. A park ranger would be cool, too. I could get an entire tower all to myself!”

  “That sounds scary.” Joan said. “Being all alone in a tower in the middle of the woods...”

  “Don’t put it like that! You’ll crush my dreams!” Anna teased. “I actually thought about being a singer at one point, too. Can you believe that?” She snorted and shook her head.

  “A singer?” Joan echoed. “Can you sing?”

  “I like to think I can.”

  “Can you show me?”

Anna blinked, slightly shy. “Right now?”

Joan nodded eagerly.

  “What would I sing?”

  “Your poem!” 

  “What?”

  “Your poem, silly.” Joan said again. “It’s basically a song, you know. Just give it a rhythm!”

  “Oh.” Anna blinked. “Right. Okay.” She cleared her throat meaningfully. “Let’s see…

An eagle's just another bird

Until he can spread his wings

A river's just a sheet of ice

Till winter turns to spring,”

Her voice came out husky and smooth, like molten caramel. Each word flicked languidly off of her tongue, dripping easily into open ears. Joan watched her in amazement and great interest and then, shockingly, began to sing the next few stanzas.

  “And though the clouds may block the sun

Don't mean that it's left the sky,”

Joan’s voice was soft and slightly raspy, but higher pitched and easy on the ears. It was light and airy and pronounced each word with silky gentleness. Anna was so startled from hearing it that she faltered for a moment. Joan giggled at her bewildered expression.

  “What?” She asked.

  “You sing beautifully.” Anna blurted.

Joan blushed. “Thank you. I hope you don’t mind. Your poem was just so amazing that I sorta kinda memorized it… Sorry.”

Anna blinked at her in amazement. Nobody had ever been so interested in any of her writing pieces before, not even Katherine.

  “No, no it’s okay!” She said quickly. “That’s so cool. That you like it that much. It means a lot to me.”

Joan smiled. “I’m glad.” She said. “Now, what was the next part?”

  “Umm… Oh!” Anna cleared her throat again, then began singing once more, 

“Just when you think you've seen it all

There's more than meets the eye,”

  “Like, things I dream,”

  “And things I feel,”

  “There’s more to me,”

  “Than I reveal,” The harmony they pulled off together was like nothing Anna had ever heard before. Her deep alto and Joan’s light soprano mixed together beautifully, sounding like liquid sugar in their ears.

  “And cause I shine in quiet ways

I'm someone you don't recognize,” Joan sang, a smile twitching on her lips.

  “I’m a diamond in the rough

A dreamer in disguise…”

They finished in another chilling harmony. Joan beamed at Anna. Anna smiled back at her brightly.

  “That...was incredible.” Anna breathed. 

  “I know!” Joan exclaimed gleefully. “We sounded SO GOOD! I didn’t even know I could sing like that!”

Anna had never seen her so energetic before. Even Joan never felt this way before, so happy and at ease. She must have come out of her shell a lot more than she thought.

  “You’re great, Joan.” Anna said. “We should really hang out more often! Are you free tomorrow by any chance? Katherine, George, Jane, and I were going to have an after party at my house. We have a pool!”

Joan looked absolutely thrilled to be invited. “I would love to go.” She said, eyes glowing. “Do you really mean it, Anna?”

  “Of course!” Anna said. “We were also going to watch a few movies, too. Have you ever seen Star Wars?”

  “No.”

Anna gaped at her in shock. “Really? You’ve never seen a single Star Wars movie before?”

  “We don’t have a TV at my house.” Joan admitted. “What is Star Wars? Is it, like, World War I in outer space?”

Anna burst into laughter. Joan blinked at her in a delighted way.

  “Now I REALLY have to show you!” Anna said, wiping an eye. “It’s a date!”

  “Yeah,” Joan said excitedly.

They hung out on the main staircase for a little bit longer, discussing plans for the next day and Anna giving Joan permission to wear one of her bathing suits (since she didn’t have her own), then ventured back into the prom.

  “I still can’t get over how pretty it is,” Joan said as they walked past a sculpture shaped like temple ruins. “It’s like a dream. A perfect dream.”

The plants were one her favorite parts by far. All around her there were glorious purple exploding star-shaped flowers, delicate pale orange orchids, clusters of petals the color of bananas, odd little orbs in ruby red and sapphire blue. Hanging moss and trailing vines and reaching willow were like curtain doorways to new parts of the prom in all shades of emerald green. And then, there was the tree glowing brightly among all the greenery.

It was so much more beautiful up close. Joan could see all the little details in the pure white trunk, which must have taken forever to get just right. The globes hanging from the branches were the same icy blue as her eyes, she realized, and she blinked at them in wonder. Was the color really that beautiful? 

Looking closer, she noticed something in the hollow of the closest globe. A rolled up piece of paper! In fact, several of the globes had one or more, folded or rolled up to sit inside. There was also a small brown table next to the tree with pens and pieces of paper for anyone who wanted to write something. George was currently doing just that, looking very dutiful as he did so, while Jane waited by his side. She noticed Joan and Anna and perked up.

  “There you guys are!” She said. “I was wondering where you went.”

  “Sorry,” Anna said. “We just went out to get some air. What are you guys doing?”

  “Making wishes,” Jane told her. “That’s what the tree is about. You’re supposed to write a wish or desire on a piece of paper and then put it into one of the fruit things.”

  “So the decoration committee can laugh at you when they read all of them after prom,” George added as he was writing. “So don’t mark your name. And hope your handwriting doesn’t get recognized.”

  “Wanna write one?” Jane asked.

Anna nodded, then nudged Joan questioningly.

  “Sure,” Joan said.

They went over to the table George was hunched over at and each took a pen and piece of paper. Anna thought for just a moment, then began writing something, while Joan hesitated a little bit longer.

She had so many wishes that she thought about all the time. Being adopted into a nicer family, Mama loving her like a normal mother would, having friends, finding her father, getting a kitten… There were so many things to put down, and so little room, so, after a moment of deciding, she wrote, “I wish to always be happy like I am now.”

She rolled her paper up like a scroll and tucked it into an empty globe. Jane did the same, then Anna, and then, finally, George.

  “So, what did you guys wish for?” George asked as they walked back over to their table. “Because I wished for something practical. Money.”

  “I should have known,” Jane chuckled. “I wished for an easy, hopefully painless transition into college after summer is over.”

  “Eternal love,” Anna said.

  “A pet cat,” Joan lied, feeling too sappy to say her actual one.

  “That’s a good wish, that’s a good wish,” George nodded in approval.

The four of them began to chat for several minutes, discussing summer plans and swapping funny stories. Joan didn’t have much to share, seeing as her life wasn’t exactly very easy to bring up in a lighthearted conversation, but Anna, Jane, and George each made sure she was included. She was perfectly happy with just listening quietly, but actually getting to partake in the talk felt like an honor she didn’t deserve.

  “What about you, Joan?” George had been asking. “Got any embarrassing secrets?”

Joan thought for a moment, sifting out several way-too-dark things to share. 

  “I can’t swim,” She finally admitted.

  “Woah, really?” George said. “I thought everyone learned how to swim.”

  “Where? In school?” Anna snorted. She turned her head to Joan, eyebrows furrowed. “I guess that makes tomorrow’s pool party a little unfortunate, huh?”

  “I still wanna come.” Joan said quickly, afraid the opportunity will be taken from her. “I agreed regardless, didn’t I? And I’ll be okay. I just had a bad experience with water one time, that’s all. It’s been years, anyway.”

(the tepid water and her wrinkled fingertips marked the end of her bubble bath. Mama just checked on her, but her patience had doubled since then. she called for Mama to help her out of the tub, but Mama did not respond. she tried twice more but she heard no returning calls. she decided that she did not really need Mama’s help; she was five and a big girl. 

the slippery acrylic tub and her misplaced feet resulted in her arm roughly slicing on the sharp faucet. a metallic and unknown smell engulfed her. all she saw was red, just like candy apples. so much red falling from her arm and coloring the bathwater. unexplainable fear and pain overcame her. she started to cry and within seconds, Mama was standing at the door.

she had always been beautiful, but the flour smeared on her face and the stress lines present on her features did not do much for her. the sheer horror on her expression scared her further and transformed weak cries into wailing screams. Mama appeared white as a sheet as they stared at each other, motionless. the tub water was noticeably darker when she started to feel a painful sensation shooting down her arm. in a flash, Mama was carrying her onto the sink counter, swaddling her in a towel that turned crimson red almost instantly. Mama was wearing her special apron and bore a grim look on her face.

Mama left for just a moment, then returned with something gleaming.

there was no warning given before Mama started putting a needle and thread through her skin. it reminded her of sewing a dress together. she can only feel a light tugging, but it did not quiet her cries. Mama finally cut the thread after what felt like forever. the cuddles she got after that were like angel hugs. she thought she should hurt herself more often.)

  “What happened?” George asked with great interest. Jane lightly whacked his arm.

  “Don’t be pushy.” She chided him, then looked at Joan. “You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to, hun.”

The pet name sent flickers of pink flames glowing on Joan’s ears. Her heart fluttered wildly inside of her chest, like a butterfly flapping its wings for the first time.

  “Well--”

(the shower. the blood in the water like when she was five. her blood. girls all around her laughing, throwing things, humiliating her.)

  “I was twelve, and I snuck away from home to this Christian summer camp because I wanted to make some friends,” She said. “That, of course, went south, and all the kids participated in a game where they would dunk me in the pool until I started drowning.”

Silence filled the table. Joan instantly felt guilty and lowered her head.

  “Sorry…” She mumbled. “I-I shouldn’t have…”

  “I’m so sorry, Joan.” Jane looked sympathetic and concerned. “That sounds awful.”

  “Those kids are awful.” George corrected her. “I’m sorry, too.”

  “Me too.” Anna nodded. She gently took one of Joan’s hands and squeezed it. “That’ll never happen ever again, I promise.”

Joan smiled at her. “Thank you.” She wanted to dive into Anna’s honey brown eyes and catch the reflected flames in there. She wanted to tell her and George and Jane how much this meant to her.

Suddenly, Anna’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, but kept her other hand holding Joan’s.

  “Oh, it’s Kat!” She said to the other three. “She’s asking how the night is going.”

  “Amazing!” George declared. “Really amazing! Isn’t this prom the GREATEST?”

Jane tipped her head at him and smiled, and Joan realized that THAT was what it looked like when someone was in love.

  “It is amazing,” Jane agreed.

  “Yeah,” Joan nodded.

  “I’m gonna send a picture to her,” Anna said. “Come on, guys! Everyone get in!”

They all huddled together, even Joan, who got snugly sandwiched between Anna and Jane. Anna snapped a picture and then sent it to Katherine, along with a quick text telling her how things were going. By the time she finished, the music had changed into a slow, soothing song, and couples began to group together on the dance floor, including Jane and George.

  “Oh--” Anna looked up with a smile. “It’s a slow song, Joan.”

Joan froze, her eyes widening. She began shaking her head, but Anna was already standing up and gently taking her hands. She pulled them back quickly.

  “No, Anna, I can't--” Joan stammered nervously. She glanced at all the couples dancing, noting how smoothly they moved, and couldn’t possibly imagine herself swaying among them. She would be much too clumsy. “I’ve never danced before.”

  “That’s okay,” Anna said dismissively.

  “No, no, Anna--” Joan’s fear was mounting. This was where everything went wrong, this was where things got messed up, this was where her perfect night fell apart--

  “Hey.” Anna knelt down in front of her. “It’s going to be okay. It’s just one little dance, and all we do is hold each other and sway. Just like everyone else is doing.”

Joan glanced at the dancers again. It didn’t look too hard…

  “B-but what if--”

  “Shh,” Anna carefully adjusted Joan’s flower crown so it would be straight again. “Everything is alright, Joan. Nothing bad will happen. Remember: if anyone laughs, I kick their ass.”

That got a tiny smile from Joan. Anna smiled back and lifted Joan to her feet, guiding her onto the dance floor.

  “Okay, so you’re going to grab my hand like this. See?” Their right hands clasped together in the air. “And then set the other one on my shoulder.” Joan’s left hand rested on Anna’s shoulder, while Anna’s gently cupped her waist. “And then we sway…” They swayed. “See? It’s easy. You’re a natural!” 

Joan smiled shyly up at Anna. She glanced around them, and realized mainly everyone was too absorbed in their partners to notice she was dancing with them.

  “And...if you wanna get fancy with it…” Anna smirked. “We can do the Dancing With The Stars move.”

Joan had no idea what that was, but it still sent lightning bolts of anxiety shooting through her.

  “N-no, Anna, no, I can’t--”

  “Shh, shh, shh,” Anna hushed her gently. “Just trust me.” And then she stepped back slightly and spun around slowly so her arm would be draped across her torso and Joan would be pressed against her chest. Joan looked up at her with a mix between an amazed and deer-in-headlights look. “See? Easy! Wasn’t that fun?”

Joan nodded wordlessly, lost in her wonder. Her icy blue eyes were sparkling like starlight twinkling on fresh snow. Anna gently uncoiled her and they got back into position.

  “You’re a good learner.” Anna told her partner.

  “Thank you,” Joan whispered, ducking her head. “Can I spin you?”

Anna laughed. “Sure.”

Joan spun Anna, but ended up twisting their arms quite painfully before the full rotation could be complete, so they had to break away and come back together with unknotted muscles. They both laughed.

  “Good first try!” Anna said.

Joan giggled.

A serene silence fell between the two of them as the music went on. They swayed together like a white and pink boat drifting on the quiet waves of the ocean at night. The rhythm they rocked to was conducted by years worth of longing and desire from Joan’s part, and now it was all blooming before her. Everything she’s ever wanted was happening. Friends, a fun night away from home, people who actually give a damn about her… She could feel tears of joy pricking in her eyes and she quickly blinked them back.

  “Do you really have to be home by eleven?” 

Anna’s voice, smooth and caring and not a bit cruel, cut though the singing playing from the large speakers set up. Joan looked up at her. It felt like she had just woken up from a nap, that the music had lulled her into sleep and she slipped away into a blissful dream. But it wasn’t a dream. This was real. The bodies rocking around her and the beautiful decorations and her perfect dress and Anna’s hand in her own--it was all real. 

  “Yes,” Joan said, processing what Anna had asked her. She frowned. “I’m sorry. I promised.”

  “No, that’s okay!” Anna said quickly. “It’s just that after prom, a few of us were going to go to--”

  “OKAY.” Joan said, pulling away and hugging her hands in close. 

Anna blinked. “Um. What?”

  “No, no, if you want to go off with your friends, I understand. I-I-I don’t want to spoil anything.” Joan sputtered out, feeling her heart sink back into the black abyss it had finally climbed out of for the first time in fifteen years.

  “What I was going to say was,” Anna said, taking Joan’s hands again and pulling her back against her. She began to sway again. “If you’d like to, after prom, we could stop at the Blazer for awhile.”

Joan blinked. She suddenly felt embarrassed about how she had jumped to conclusions so easily, that just goes to show how much she truly trusted Anna, but Anna didn’t seem to mind.

  “I’ve never been there.” She said, unsurprisingly. She didn’t go to many places.

  “They have the BEST fries!” Anna stated, grinning.

  “I’d love to.” Joan said.

  “Then it’s decided!”

A smile was starting to come to Joan’s lips, one that felt like it would stay there for the entire night no matter how hard she tried to smother it. After years of vicious bullying and constant teasing and unfriendly looks, she suddenly found herself wrapped in attention and warmth. Anna or Jane or George didn’t hate her or were afraid of her like Mama had said at all. More than that, they seemed to actually like her. They were talking to her and being nice to her and making her laugh, and none of it seemed forced in even the slightest way. They were making her forget, for all these hours, how miserable she had been and how miserable she truly was. The pain was numbed.

For once in her life, for the first time in fifteen years, she truly felt happy.

  “Thank you.” Joan whispered, breaking another few peaceful seconds of silence between them.

  “What for?” Anna asked, tilting her head slightly.

  “For everything.” Joan clarified. “For taking me to prom. For the limo. For being so nice to me.” The tears were coming back, but she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to blink them back this time. “I know you don’t like me like that, and I know it’s only one night, but…” She looked up at Anna, her eyes sparkling. “I’m glad I got to be your date tonight.”

  “Me too.” Anna said, taking Joan by surprise.

  “R-really?”

For a moment, Anna frowned at her disbelief, but then she shook her head and chuckled slightly. 

  “Of course,” She said. “I’m having the best time with you.”

  “B-but what about Katherine--” Joan stammered, her voice catching in her throat.

  “Katherine isn’t here right now,” Anna said, wiping away the tear that rolled down Joan’s left cheek. “Tonight, you’re all that matters to me. I’m going to make sure this is the best night of your life. And the nights and days and everything else after that. You aren’t alone anymore, Joan.”

That’s what broke Joan.

The girl whimpered, bottom lip quivering, and a cascade of sparkling silver tears began pouring down her face. Anna cupped the back of her head and brought it to press into the crook of her neck for security. Joan cried steadily, thanking her over and over again through squeaking sobs.

  “How about this?” Anna said when Joan began to quiet down and was able to pull her head back. Her makeup was slightly smeared, but Anna still thought she looked amazing. “We dance for a little longer, see what poor fools get elected as prom king and queen, and then head to the Blazers for a bite to eat. And I’ll have you home by eleven.” She smiled warmly. “How does that sound to you?”

Joan nodded.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Joan squeaked. “Maybe eleven-thirty…”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “Eleven-thirty.”

Anna smiled even more. “Wonderful.”

They fell into blissful silence as the song began to wrap up. Joan’s eyes were starting to sting, but she didn’t care. She tucked her head underneath Anna’s chin and rested her head on her chest, relaxing. Anna swayed them both gently, acting as a protective barrier that Joan never wanted to be away from.

The song soon ended and the two of them parted. George and Jane bounded over to them, with George grinning his head off and tapping his feet energetically. Jane rolled her eyes at him fondly, then smiled at Joan and Anna.

  “I saw you guys dancing,” She said. “You were really good for your first time! This one,” She jerked her head at George, “tripped on MY FEET and dragged me to the ground when he fell the first time we danced together.”

Anna and Joan laughed. George was not fazed by his girlfriend spilling embarrassing things about him. In fact, he seemed a little proud.

  “It’s going to be funny to tell our kids one day!” He said.

  “Oh, you,” Jane rolled her eyes again and poked his nose. “Oh, Joan. Your makeup smeared.”

Joan blinked and lifted a hand to her face. “Oh dear,” She murmured in dismay.

  “Not to worry!” Jane waved a hand. “I have some makeup in my car. I can help you fix it.”

  “Really?” Joan said. “Thank you.”

  “No problem, lovely!” Jane said. She gently took Joan by the arm. “Anna, I’m going to borrow your girl for a moment. George, don’t do anything dumb.”

  “Yes sir!” George beamed. When Jane and Joan whisked through the crowd and out into the parking lot, he sighed lovingly, “I love her so much…”

Anna laughed and patted his back. “I can tell!”

Meanwhile, in Jane Parker’s blue Hummer, Jane was dutifully applying fresh makeup onto Joan’s youthful face and thinking back to some of the things she overheard Anne Boleyn saying about her when she was over at the Boleyn residence to hang out with George. The young girl before her didn’t look ugly at all, despite what Anne had said, nor did she look like a freak. Her eyes may be a strange color, but they were the most beautiful shade of blue Jane had ever seen before.

Jane suspected that, deep down, Joan actually enjoyed the kind of pampering she was giving her in the car, despite the distrust in her eyes as Jane drew near with a mascara wand. Not that she needed anything more, but still. Little Miss Five Minute Skincare had obviously missed out on a lot of the girly stuff that had saturated Jane’s existence since birth.

It made sense, though. From the rumors she heard and from everything Anne griped about, she didn’t have a normal upbringing like most people should have. Something much darker lurked beneath those silly stories.

Something terrible has happened to this girl.

And, judging by the “hideous” hand-made flannels Joan apparently wore quite often to school, her mother hadn't been much of a fashion mentor either.

Once Jane had achieved the smoky eye effect she wanted, she applied some gloss to Joan’s lips. The girl had quite an amazing tone to her mouth. Pity it was drooped in a sullen pout at that moment.

Jane leaned back to admire her handwork.

  “Well?” She adjusted the rear view mirror down so Joan could see her reflection. “How does it look?”

  “Pretty…” Joan murmured. “But it feels like I have dirt on my face.” She pouted adorably again.

Jane laughed. “Makeup has that effect, unfortunately.” She said. “But you look lovely. Now, come on, let’s get back inside.”

They journeyed back into the prom, chatting idly as they went. Joan was smiling again, but her hands kept twitching like she wanted to rub her eyes. This was probably the first time she’s ever worn mascara, Jane realized.

  “Wow,” Anna murmured breathlessly when Jane and Joan got back to their table. Even George looked a little starstruck at the newer, better makeup applied to Joan’s face.

  “Do I look alright?” Joan asked shyly.

  “Better than alright!” George said.

  “You look beautiful.” Anna added. “Gorgeous.”

Joan blushed bright red. “I’m glad.” She said. “Because this black stuff is making my eyes sticky. And itchy.”

  “That’s mascara, sweetheart.” Jane corrected her.

  “It’s AWFUL.” Joan said. “Do girls wearing makeup always have to feel this? How do they do that? I’d rather pluck all my eyelashes out!”

Jane, Anna, and George laugh. After a moment, Joan joined them, giggling.

  “I’m going to go grab a drink,” Anna said, parting from the group and going over to the bufett temples.

  “Excuse me?”

Anna spun around and found herself facing a young woman, maybe a Year 12 or Year 13, with tassels of red hair and striking smoky grey eyes. Her dress was scarlet, accenting her hair perfectly.

  “Sorry,” She said, smiling slightly, “I just had to ask before I made a fool of myself. Are you two a couple?” She nodded in Joan’s direction.

  “What? No!” Anna barked. The laugh came out more harshly-sounding than she meant, making her instantly guilty. But she was right- she wouldn’t date Joan. She was too young for one, and for another, she was already with Katherine.

The redhead was devouring Joan as the girl giggled over something George was saying, effortlessly adorable.

  “No, we’re not a couple,” Anna found herself repeating as the redhead purred her appreciation. “But Joan” Anna couldn't resist. She really wanted Joan to open up to new people. “…Joan’s a total stud.”

God, that felt a lot weirder to say than she expected. She did NOT like that.

  “Really?” The redhead’s gaze shot to Anna’s face and then back to her object of attraction. “Joan?” She teased the name with her tongue. “God, she's cute. Do you think I have a chance?”

Anna shrugged and sipped her drink to stifle a giggle. To be honest, she didn’t actually know. She had never ever seen Joan with anyone romantically before, making her believe she was a raging asexual or mother-superior-in-training.

The reality was that Joan was left tongue-tied by male and female nudity alike. Two years into high school gym, and Anne would say she STILL averted her eyes when changing out with other girls in the locker room. She was just hopelessly shy when it came to all matters sex-related.

  “She may play hard-to-get.” Anna finally said.

  “Ah,” The redhead nodded slowly. She chuckled. “Thank you.” Then, like that, she glided back off into the mass of writhing limbs that was the prom. Anna respectfully waited ten seconds after she left to snort her laughter.

  “You’ve got some fans, Jo,” She said, walking back over her friends.

  “What?” Joan blinked up at her innocently.

  “I think someone has a crush on you.”

Joan’s face flamed red instantly. She stammered on a reply, but all her words came out squeaking.

  “O-oh.” She choked. “Nice?”

Anna chuckled and patted her head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it was nothing. And you can always say no.”

Joan nodded. A second later, the music switched to an upbeat Lady Gaga song. George began to bound excitedly.

  “Oh, I LOVE this song!!” He yelled. “Let’s dance!”

Anna glanced at Joan, who appeared to be a little more confident at dancing. They all moved to an emptier spot on the dance floor and began to dance.

  “Come on, Joan!” Jane encouraged, noticing that Joan was just bobbing her head to the beat of the song. “Shake that bony white ass!”

Joan was flabbergasted at that, but was motivated to get a little more into the song. Anna, Jane, and George all clapped and cheered for her as she did so.

Unbeknownst to them, Maggie watched on with Bessie at her side. Bessie’s amethyst purple dress went with her bleached white hair surprisingly well, but Maggie wasn’t sure if that was intentional or not, seeing as Bessie’s head was filled with quite a few moths. Anthony was somewhere in the crowd near the food temples, lost in the cluster of black tuxedos so much like his own, fetching drinks like Maggie had asked.

  “God, just look at them.” Maggie sneered in disgust, watching Joan dance like an idiot and Anna, Anne’s younger brother, and Anne’s younger brother’s girlfriend actually make it seem like they liked her. “Couldn’t you just vomit?”

  “I can’t believe Anne is missing this.” Bessie said, wide-eyed. Maggie definitely saw flickers of longing and jealousy in her dark brown eyes; she wasn’t exactly very subtle with her big gay crush on Anna von Cleves.

  “Trust me, doll,” Maggie said dismissively. She shot a smirk at the stage. “She isn’t missing a thing.”

[dorkzrul]

When I met my Date on Another Date

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians. (This applies for all chapters)

~~~

Chapter 1

She had been waiting for almost an hour now. “Ma’am, are you sure you don’t want to order?”, asked the impatient waitress. “Yes i’m sure. I think i’ll wait just a little longer.”, Annabeth responded. “Suit yourself, but I really don’t think he’s coming!” How dare that waitress. She had a good mind to call the manager and report her waitress for being rude to a customer. She sighed, it was useless. And besides, she was probably right. Lately, she had seen Luke getting more and more distant and had suspected that something was up, but when she asked him he only got mad and accused her of not trusting him. That's when she definitely knew something was up because due to her past, trust had always been a rather fragile subject with her. Everyone in her family who she had trusted had left her and Luke had promised that he’d never leave her. He was the first person she’d trusted since the accident, when her mom died. The Luke she knew would never have said something like that to her. But she had never thought that it had been bad enough for him to miss their anniversary dinner! Had he forgotten?

She was just about to get up and leave when someone sat down in the seat across from her. “Sorry, i'm late. Traffic was terrible today.”, he announced loudly, gaining the attention of several people around, as well as that rude waitress. “Um, who ar-” “Just go with it”, he whispered, cutting her off, “I don't know who you’re waiting for, but whoever stood you up is a jerk”. She was about to retort that he knew absolutely nothing but kept her mouth shut. Instead, she turned to glare at him and was momentarily stunned. The man was probably around her age, with tousled, jet-black hair, beautiful sea-green eyes and tan skin. He was wearing a dark green shirt and balck trousers and looked simply heavenly. She forced herself to look away, just as he whispered, “Wanna get out of here?” She nodded, Luke definitely wasn’t coming and what was the harm in going out with a cute stranger she just met. Wait, WHAT?! What was happening to her. Firstly, she HAD a boyfriend, she couldn’t think other guys were cute! Plus, he was a complete stranger! He could be a serial killer for all she knew, she wasn’t going to go with him! “Um, sorry. I can’t”, she told him. He shrugged, “Suit yourself”, just thought you’d want to get away from all the people looking at us weird. I could drop you to your car and then you’ll be done for the night. She felt her face redden. Of course he didn’t want to go somewhere with her, he just wanted to get away. In fact, someone like him probably had a girlfriend, maybe an adorable redhead with freckles all over her face and green eyes like him. Maybe she was British and said his name in a cute little accent, she felt sick at the thought. Wait, what was she thinking? She didn’t care! She had a boyfriend of her own, one who loved her very much… though clearly not enough to remember their anniversary.

“Yeah, sure”, she quickly responded before her thoughts could get any worse. They walked outside, an awkward silence between them. “Oh um I came here by cab. I didn’t bring my car”, she quietly said, breaking the silence. “I could call a cab for you, or I could drop you off in my car if you like”, said the stranger. She had to stop calling him stranger! He had helped her out of such an awkward situation and she didn’t even know his name! “Im Annabeth, by the way. Thanks for helping me out there”, she stuck her hand out for him to shake. “Percy, and no problem”, he said, shaking her hand with a crooked grin on that face. Oh the things that smile did to her… STOP IT! She mentally chided herself. Then she realised she was still holding his hand and quickly let go, blushing. “Um, you don’t need to go to that trouble of dropping me”, she said. “Oh it's no trouble! I live on 3rd street, I could drop you along the way if you live that way” He literally just gave his address to a stranger, what was wrong with this guy, she thought. What if she had been some sort of crazy stalker? But it would be a great help if he could drop her off and she lived there too. So she found herself doing the unthinkable, giving her address to a stranger, hopping into their car and driving to her apartment where she lived. “Oh, I live along 3rd street too” “Great, i’ll drop you then”, he gave her another grin and she felt her knees weaken.

They climbed into his car, a dark blue Lamborghini Huracán. He was rich! It was approximately a twenty minute drive there. He turned onto the street and an awkward silence filled the car. “So, Annabeth, were you meeting your boyfriend at the restaurant back there today?” He was just a stranger, yet somehow she felt like she could trust him and had the urge to tell him everything. It was okay, she reasoned with herself, he was just a stranger that she would probably never see again after today and thus it didn't matter if she said anything or not. “Yes, yes i was supposed to see my boyfriend. It’s our one year anniversary.” “Oh”, he raised an eyebrow, “He missed your anniversary?” “I’m sure there’s a valid reason!” she said defensively. “Never said there wasn’t. But he shouldn’t have stood you up like that. If he couldn’t make it he should have told you.” She sighed “You’re right” He looked surprised. “Damn right I am!” They laughed loudly. That was just what she had needed after such a night! “This may come out wrong but I’m honestly kinda glad he stood you up” “What?!?!” “If he hadn’t, I would never have met you. You seem like a cool person” “Oh...thanks”, she mumbled, blushing. “Hey, wanna go out for coffee sometime?” He asked, it seemed like he was nervous. “Not like a date, just as friends.”, he quickly added. She giggled (What was wrong with her? She never giggled!), he looked cute all flustered like that. “Sure. I would love to!” He grinned, “Great! Here’s my number.” He dictated it as she put it into her phone and saved it as Percy (Restaurant Guy). “Text me”, he said, still grinning hugely. She nodded, blushing.

He dropped her off at her building with a quick wave and she noticed that he lived just two buildings down. She entered her flat, thinking of all that had just happened. Luke had stood her up, a stranger had come to save her, she’d gotten into his car and had him drop her (hence giving away her address), she’d told him all about her and Luke and she’d saved his number in his phone and had promised to text him (and she was going to make good on the promise). Yep, something had definitely come over her. As soon as she had taken off her shoes, she plopped onto the couch and called Luke. But her call went straight to voicemail. She decided that they should talk in person about this and simply left a message asking him to come over whenever he could. Then, she texted Percy.

Annabeth Chase: Hey, this is Annabeth!

He responded within a couple of minutes.

Percy Jackson: Hey :)

Annabeth Chase: So...

Percy Jackson: So… tomorrow?

Annabeth Chase: Tomorrow? What?

Percy Jackson: R coffee d8, Chase! Forgotten already? :p

Annabeth Chase: Of course not! I just didn’t think it would be this soon!

Percy Jackson: Is tom not good 4 u?

Annabeth Chase: I am free tomorrow, but…

Percy Jackson: If ur free then lets do it! If not then mayb some other time…

She was glad he wasn’t pushing to come tomorrow or to tell him why she couldn’t make it. Luke would have done that… He always got upset if she couldn’t make it and always wanted to know where she was. She didn’t mind too much because there shouldn’t be any secrets between them, but the way he said it made it seem like he didn’t trust her.

Annabeth Chase: How about the day after? I’m with Luke tomorrow.

Percy Jackson: Sure! Grt so uk that lil cafe called “Cafe Coffee”? Lets meet there tomorrow at 4? K?

Annabeth Chase: Sure!

Percy Jackson: Its a date!

She stared at her phone, wondering if she should correct him. On one hand, she was pretty sure by “date” he only meant one between friends (gosh, she barely knew him for an hour and they were friends now?!), but if she didn’t correct him it might seem, just a tiny bit, like it was a date. What if Luke saw the text? But on the other, she couldn’t ignore the slight thrill that went down her spine when she read those three words. “Its a date!”

NO! What was she thinking?! She was a taken woman! She loved Luke and would never cheat on him! They loved each other very much and would never cheat on each other! Right? She couldn’t deny the fact that it had crossed her mind recently that Luke was cheating. She had instantly dismissed the idea but now that she actually thought about it, all the signs were there. He wasn’t responding to her calls or texts, he had gotten furious when he saw her scrolling through his phone (she had only been looking for a picture she’d taken on his phone, why had he gotten so mad? Did he have something to hide?) and he stood her up on their Anniversary (without a phone call or a text message to say that he was busy or to wish her. Had he forgotten? Or did he just not care?). Was he cheating on her? He probably wasn't; she was just being paranoid now. She put her phone down and lay down on the bed, eventually falling asleep with these thoughts pushed to the back of her head.

~~~

Hi! I’m Dorkzrul n I hope u enjoyed this fic (My first chapter fic)!!! I’d love to hear any feedback and/or constructive criticism and thank you so much for taking the time to read this!!! The next chapter will probably be out in a week. I don’t have a tag list cus I don’t think that many people will even read this but even if one person wants to be tagged, just let me know 😊

Also available on Wattpad and FanFiction.Net.

<3<3<3

Tagging: @rhian-not-ryan

[apiratecalledav]

Is there other stuff that makes you think hbo messed with gendrya?

Oh, man, I’m probably gonna be thought of as the Murray Bauman of the fandom…. But yeah, there’s actually quite a bit that makes me think that it’s possible. When season 8 first aired, I thought that maybe executive meddling shot them down for some reason, most logically to protect spinoff potential.  They might have let the show “test the waters” but ultimately wanted them left ambiguous.

I thought it was… interesting… that Gendry and Arya had by far the gentlest, most amicable breakup in the entire series— and that it was over Gendry’s lordship that he straight up said wasn’t worth anything without Arya—when HBO UK made a cryptic tweet that made me wonder if someone high up was leery of the pairing/fan reaction.  If they wanted the option for an Arya Stark spinoff someday, I could see why they wouldn’t want her to end in a relationship they thought might be poorly received.  

I also thought that maybe since Gendrya went so far out of the show’s usual M.O. (to the point that it was one of the very few things about season 8 that I was wildly off about) that their thought process might have plausibly been something like, “Gendrya can’t be endgame? Well, fuck it. We’ll go all out and have them do pretty much everything else: Make out, spend the night together, save the world, say, ‘I love you,’ and get down on one knee to propose.”

I also thought that I was probably just a tinfoil-hat-wearing weirdo saying, “My OTP wasn’t definitively endgame! It must be a conspiracy.”

But I rewatched the whole season a little while ago and I noticed some things that I think are… interesting. Although, you should keep in mind that it was during two VERY long and VERY boring days at work where I had nothing to do.

I could just be shipper trash, seeing what I wanna see. Maybe not. I’m just saying that I’d believe it if something was up. From the way they portrayed Arya and Gendry, in general and especially in comparison to Jon/D-ny (I’ve anti tagged but if you don’t have blacklisting enabled, this is your fair warning), I could believe that the writers like the ship. And while Arya is certainly not the poster child for perfect mental health, there isn’t anything to suggest she would be toxic in a long term relationship. She isn’t selfish or cruel. I also don’t think that she hates herself the way that Sandor and Jaime did and that she believes she deserves to be “punished” or alone. She didn’t say anything to Gendry about not wanting to be a wife, just not a lady. 

They’re consistently portrayed as a healthier/more favorable foil to Jon and D-ny:

In 8x01, D-ny swoops down on Winterfell and is cavalier as fuck about resources.  She has no comment about food except that dragons eat “whatever they want.” The next scene, we see Gendry running to catch a chunk of dragonglass that was about to tumble out of the wagon. He tells everyone to be careful because they need every last bit of it. He then goes on to climb up the wagon, much like Arya did in the pilot episode. I think it’s even in the same spot. If not, it’s very similar.

Also 8x01, D-ny tells Jon, “keep your Queen warm” and while they are kissing, Jon keeps opening his eyes and freaking out because scary dragons are eyeballing him. And D-ny is pretty much like, “Don’t worry about it, it’s cool.” Even though she’s already made a few jokes about how if they decide to roast Jon then he’s shit outta luck and she threatened Sansa. Then the very next scene is Gendry and Sandor just before Arya finds them. Arya teases Gendry as well but she also defends him from Sandor, compliments him, jokes he should “keep close to that forge” if he’s cold and tells him not to call her Lady Stark. They laugh and banter and all awkwardness fades away and they’re both grinning like dorks. Arya actively wants Gendry to see them as equals; D-ny subconsciously wants Jon in his place.

Even as the dead are practically in their backyard, D-ny keeps obsessing about the throne. Meanwhile, Arya’s station doesn’t bother Gendry anymore because he knows it doesn’t matter. He also signed up to help Jon immediately without asking for anything in return.

Arya and Gendry each seek the other out in 8x02 but Jon spends a lot of it trying to avoid D-ny until the last moment

8x02 Arya and D-ny find out Gendry’s and Jon’s parentages. It makes no difference to Arya, she loved Gendry when he was a barmaid’s bastard and she loves him when he’s a king’s son. Jon’s  bio father shatters D-ny’s whole world.

Most of Jon’s family (this includes Sam) distrust and fear D-ny. Jon and Sandor like Gendry and Sansa and Bran have no complaints at least.

Their ~love scenes~ have a few shots that mirror each other, too.  But we see the buildup for Arya and Gendry, their conversation, their first kiss, undressing each other. We see Jon and D-ny and in the middle of things, during a montage explaining how they’re closely related and narrated by Jon’s little brother. Not exactly sexy. Then it cuts to Tyrion lurking nearby looking troubled and finally ends with an ominous shot of the Targ flagship in the dark and gloom. Meanwhile, Arya and Gendry are alone, not related, and are the sole focus of the scene. There’s not even music.

In 8x04, at the funeral, Gendry and Arya are initially a good distance apart. Then after they light the pyres, you get a shot of Arya with (an admittedly very blurry) Gendry visible over her shoulder. Meanwhile, Jon and D-ny stand together while lighting the fire and then they part.  

Gendry’s “I love you” to Arya is enthusiastic and happy and D-ny’s to Jon is coming from a place of mourning at best and it’s straight up manipulative at worst.  The words “I love you” are rare in this show. I can only remember Jorah saying it a couple of times, Littlefinger to Cat and Sansa, Joffrey pledging to wed Margaery, and Robb to Talisa. The only times it’s not sad or creepy are Robb and Gendry.

These two scenes are the most glaringly obvious. But to summarize, Arya tries to set Gendry “free” when his life changes in a direction she doesn’t want for herself and D-ny tries to put Jon into a corner and make sure his life CAN’T change into one that she doesn’t want. 

So with that stuff in mind, I could buy that maybe they wanted Arya and Gendry to reunite in King’s Landing and try to save civilians together.  Or maybe have Jon ask Gendry to take Arya as far away as he can before Jon goes to that throne room to do what he has to do. Hell, look at Arya’s final scene as is: She’s on a ship and then you see her Stark sigil on the sail against the sunlight… If Gendry was with her, that’d sure look like a happier version of D-ny and Jon’s scene from the end of season 7…   While probably a bit too on the nose for GRRM’s books, I could see the show implying that Gendry and Arya are the second, more hopeful verse of the Song of Ice and Fire…

Other Season 8 Subtext-y things:

Marriage imagery; Arya under Gendry’s cloak. Bonus points for it being shown during these lines from Jenny’s song: “spun away all her sorrow and pain/and she never wanted to leave.”  “She spun away and said to him, ‘no featherbed for me.’”

Pretty much all of Gendry’s scenes in season 8 are with Arya or he’s with Sandor, talking about her. The small handful of times he’s not with either of them, he’s with her siblings and other people connected to House Stark like Tormund and Davos and even Sam and Edd.  After their “breakup” he virtually disappears. Pretty much the ENTIRE reason they brought him back was for Arya and to be tied strongly to House Stark.

Beric and Melissandre, who once wanted to sacrifice Gendry for “the greater good” and caused Arya to turn towards a darker path, sacrifice themselves to defeat the dead, not only saving Arya’s and Gendry’s lives but guiding Arya further into “light.” To the point where she literally ends the Long Night.

Gendry tells Arya that she’s beautiful and he loves her and gets down on one knee to ask her to marry him… Which is so wildly uncharacteristic for this show that I still can’t believe that it’s real. It’s by far the most traditional romantic moment in the entire series.  I suppose it could just be fan service, but 8x02 would have sufficed on that front. Not to mention that “fan service” in this show has never been something so wholesome.  

They could have done the proposal differently. They could have had Gendry say crap like, “Now we can settle down and live a boring, respectable life” or something else that would have been really unappealing to Arya. It actually would have been another connection to Robert/Lyanna, where Robert only loved his idea of Lyanna. But nope. They could have framed it as Gendry trying to do the honorable thing or “they’re gonna marry us off anyway, at least we like each other.” But nope.

Gendry could have been put off by Arya’s combat skills but he was turned on by it. She even used her “game of faces” voice on him and it didn’t send him running for the hills.

They also could have easily had Gendry be too “tame” for Arya but nope.  Her face at this part just kills me.

They made a thing out of Gendry being “forever loyal” to D-ny after she legitimized him but he had jack shit to say about her at the Great Council and was all too happy to vote for King Bran, even after Arya had turned him down.

A follow up to that other post in regards to a Gendry-ish looking guy grabbing Arya and asking if she’s seen his wife, Alanna: Magaery’s cousin with the same sounding name gets a GRRM-esque weird spelling: Allana with two Ls and one N. As opposed to the more traditional spelling that looks more like Lyanna….

One of the surviving lords at the Great Council is specifically from the Storm Lands. He’s probably who has had Storm’s End for the last few years and maybe he doesn’t deserve to get kicked out by a boy who doesn’t have any idea how to be a lord and doesn’t even want to be a lord without Arya.  He even has a name: Lord Une.  The Dornish prince doesn’t have a first name but this guy does?

Also, Une is a very unusual name. It’s not from the books and it doesn’t really sound Medieval Europe-y, either. Maybe there’s an inside joke or something? That’s definitely not a name you just pull from the air.  

Arya lights Beric’s funeral pyre but if Sandor didn’t have issues with fire, I think he probably would have done it as Beric’s last surviving friend. It kind of gives us the sense that Arya can do what Sandor can’t—which of course, she ultimately does when she decides to leave Cersei while Sandor, who has missed so much being hurt and angry, can only have peace/forgive himself is if he stops Gregor forever. 

In the very next scene after the funeral, we see Gendry and Sandor talk about Arya. Sandor basically says that normal, living people have emotions and hormones and it’s not a bad thing.  Sometime later, we see Sandor scare off a girl who makes a pass at him. The next scene is Gendry and Arya. Arya also ‘rejects’ her love interest but it’s in an infinitely more thoughtful way. We already know that it’s easier for Arya to be close to other people than it was for Sandor. Arya just has a little bit more to go until she’s completely ready for something serious.  

Episodes 1 and 2 establish a pattern of “Sandor then Gendry.” It’s how they arrive at Winterfell. It’s how they reunite with Arya. It’s how Arya visits them towards the end of 8x02. Sooo again, I could see at one point the intention was for them to reunite in King’s Landing. Possibly during that bit where it keeps cutting back and forth between Sandor and Arya; “hateful” Gregor grabs Sandor up to throw him around and “loving” Gendry lifts Arya to save her from getting trampled. Nora, the name of the kind stranger who does help Arya, is essentially the “female equivalent” of Gendry’s name.    

According to the leaked outline of season 7, Gendry was originally supposed to be rescued by Benjen beyond the wall. In season 8, he has scenes with Jon, Sansa, and Bran, and even Edmure and Robin. ALMOST LIKE THEY WANTED HIM TO MEET *ALL* OF ARYA’S FAMILY. I’m pretty sure only Tyrion has met more Starks and Tullys than Gendry.

The “Ice battle” was at Arya’s childhood home and the “Fire battle” was at Gendry’s. And yeah, I think it’s pretty damn weird that a capable, uninjured soldier who has knowledge of King’s Landing isn’t there.

They gave them a reference to The Princess Bride: “As you wish.” Comparing them to a beloved couple from a modern classic is a good sign. Comparing them to most likely a childhood favorite? Even better. Comparing them to a couple where their other famous line is “Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a little while.” And Arya and Gendry are still alive.  Actually, it might be a coincidence but they do have a SHIT-TON in common with The Princess Bride. GRRM is a fan, too, so maybe it was discussed at some point. It’s certainly uncanny if it wasn’t at least partially intentional. But that’s a different post.  

Sandor knows about Gendry and Arya and he doesn’t rip Gendry’s head off. Gendry basically got a blessing from Arya’s last legal guardian.

Their outfits reflect each other’s houses, Gendry’s clothes having some very Stark direwolf-like scratch marks and Arya’s scabbard is yellow and black aka Baratheon colors.

I haven’t listened to it yet, but apparently in the leaked audio commentary for 8x06, they talked about how Joe wanted Arya to notice how hot Gendry looked.

Other stuff that makes me think that the writers like Gendrya:

They gave them a lot of time and focus. Even in season 8 where they had very limited time. And objectively speaking, that time probably should have been spent with Arya and her siblings.

They had Arya befriend Gendry earlier and easier than she does in the books.

In behind the episode of 8x02, Benioff talked about how you choose to spend your last night on earth says a lot about you. The very first example he gives is Arya wanting to be with Gendry.

They are always depicted positively:  They trust each other; they respect each other; they make each other laugh; they protect each other.  Even during their “breakups” in season 3 and 8; they are honest and accepting of each other’s decisions.  These two are young and inexperienced but they manage to be more mature and healthier than 95% of the other couples.  Their relationship also doesn’t doom them the way that Robb and Talisa’s did.

They changed stuff from the books to make it– not more romantic per se given Arya’s age– but certainly shipping fuel that fit more into romantic tropes: How they meet, how Gendry discovers that she’s a girl, how Arya blatantly checks him out when he’s shirtless. Their long one-on-one and emotional “goodbye” scene where Arya says, “I can be your family.”

They changed/added lines to foreshadow “My Featherbed,” aka where Gendry is legitimized but gives it up for Arya: “I have a son, you have a daughter. We’ll join our houses” but leaving out how Robert specified Joffrey and Sansa. Changing “you’ll marry a king” and “no, that’s Sansa” to “you’ll marry a high lord” and “no, that’s not me.”  Davos telling Gendry how he became a lord to help his son and it actually got Mathos killed in battle.

The main bullet points of season 8 were largely what I was expecting and I was at least in the ballpark about a lot of the details. Like did I predict King Bran? No, but I knew he belonged in the south because he named his direwolf Summer. I knew the king or queen would be a dark horse and I was fairly certain Tyrion would be Hand. The few things I didn’t anticipate still seemed to validate the main themes and messages I thought that GRRM was going for. Like King Bran. Now I can’t believe I didn’t see it. Who better to “end the game of thrones” than someone who doesn’t want to play and also can’t be plotted against?

Gendrya is the one major thing that tripped me up. Seriously. I would have bet my fucking car that if Gendry didn’t die, he’d walk away from a lordship and be with Arya on her ship, even if the nature of their relationship was ambiguous.  

So I could believe that they wanted or at least expected Gendrya to be endgame since season 1 and someone told them no. It could have been GRRM but I must admit that I have a difficult time believing that.

I guess I could see GRRM having the point of their relationship be that Arya is upfront and honest about what she wants and Gendry respects her decision and doesn’t turn into a bitter/mopey drunk. Or that Gendry dies and Arya doesn’t wallow in it forever… But there’s so much that makes me think that Gendry is meant to be the “sweet” part of Arya’s bittersweet ending, and at least be her True Companion.  Not to mention they’re still too young to really have a relationship in the books. Well, at least Arya is. And those particular parallels to Robert and Lyanna fall pretty flat in my opinion if they’re not romantically involved.   I mean, come ON. How the hell could it NOT end with the possibility of Lyanna’s niece/ Jon’s sister and Robert’s son/D-ny+Rags cousin???

Possible HBO Shenanigans:  

I thought it was kinda funny that HBO UK–not Game of Thrones but an official HBO account– made a tweet shortly before 8x02 aired implying that Arya is eighteen… when she’s more likely sixteen (lots of reasons, not to mention that Maisie has even said that Arya is sixteen.) And sixteen is the age of consent in the UK anyway.  As far as I know, that was the only public attempt by HBO to quell controversy in an already hugely controversial season. Like, after The Bells, I don’t think anyone at HBO tweeted about “Ideally, good rulers don’t commit 2.5 times the amount of war crimes as the Night King.” So I do have to wonder if there’s a reason that they’re particularly invested and protective about Arya’s reception…

There was a huge shitstorm when Tommen and Margaery got married and pretty much most of that stuff was off screen.  Sure, Arya’s a bit older and Maisie was in her 20s while Dean-Charles was still in his teens… but people do tend to get much more outraged when it’s a girl with an older guy than vice versa.

There was also a big shakeup when AT&T acquired HBO and they got a new CEO early in 2019, a couple of months before season 8 aired. The former CEO seemed to have been championing Bloodmoon, that prequel that got canceled recently. He might have been pulling more for a potential Arya show back when the season was still being written… the new people at AT&T also seemed extremely upset over what the budgets for GoT and Big Little Lies did for their bottom line.  

While HBO has stated emphatically that there are no current plans for an Arya spinoff, they were sure to tack on a “right now, a sequel […] doesn’t make sense for us.” I do believe that this is something they want to have in their back pocket.  There’s a lot of interest in the idea and if House of the Dragon does well, I won’t be shocked if five+ years down the line we get at least a movie or a limited series about Arya. It’s by far the easiest, since her character can be isolated from everyone else and there are tons of cool places to explore. Hell, if they were really desperate, they wouldn’t even need Maisie Williams to come back. They could just recast and say she’s wearing someone else’s face to hide from mercenaries or something.  

GRRM gave an interview talking about how certain characters who have “a high Q rating” (popular) get pushed into more screen time. Bronn is almost certainly one of those characters. He’s always been a self-serving asshole, but the things that made him feel more like an affable rascal—his funny lines, his genuine and open fondness for Podrick—are all but gone in season 8. Not to mention that there’s the implied possibility he’s dying from some “pox.” In the outline for season 7, he’s much closer to “Season 8 Bronn.” Like, he was the one who was originally going to ask Jaime about Widow’s Wail and call Joffrey a “See-You-Next-Tuesday.” When Olenna said it, it was pretty funny. But coming from Bronn, it was a real dick move. I could believe that their “treatment” of Bronn in season 8 was a bit of a middle finger to him. The same way I could perceive Gendrya’s portrayal as being a “fuck you” if they weren’t allowed to actually be endgame.

TL;DR: Gendry and Arya are one of the very few healthy couples in the entire series,  and it could be argued that they even get “special” treatment. Both of them lived and while Arya certainly has been traumatized, she is not a walking dumpster fire who wouldn’t be good for him. It would have been only too easy for them to be portrayed as incompatible or worse but they weren’t. Their breakup is over a virtual nonissue. So it’s not out of the range possibility that they were a victim of executive meddling.  

And please spare me any “bUt D&D aRe ToO STuPId tO dO tHis.” I’m not campaigning for them to win Pulitzers any time soon, but the notion that they’re complete nitwits is just silly. They both have M.F.A.s  from very good schools and their scripts/outlines that I’ve read have a lot of really clever and really well-thought-out references, ranging from history to poetry to literature to even The Rolling Stones.  

I’m not saying that they intentionally did all this stuff but they certainly could have if they wanted to.

[freddiesaysalright]

Catching Up Part XI

A Joe Mazzello x Reader Fic

Summary: Reader is a writer for an entertainment news network and after Joe comes in to do an interview, they reconnect. Unexpectedly, they’re having a child together.  

Word Count: 2.9 K

Tag List: @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @jennyggggrrr @somethinginthewayiam, @grandaddy-roger-trash, @rogerloveshiscar, @hopefully-aesthetically-pleasing, @danamaleksworld, @mrsmazzello, @reedusteinrambles, @rexorangecouny, @caborhapch, @kurt-nightcrawler, @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls, @queendeakyy, @hotttspace, @anxious-diabetic, @someone-get-a-medic, @psychosupernatural, @lizvxx, @cobra-anon, @anotherhystericalqueen The story’s almost over, but it’s not too late to be added to the tag list! Let me know!

A/N: This chapter is super fluffy. But, once again, setting some important stuff. Little Joey is arriving soon! Also, special appearances from Bri and Rog in this one :)

Part I  Part II  Part III  Part IV  Part V   Part VI Part VII  Part VIII  Part IX  Part X

Part XI here we go!!!

You were free of Nick, but you could not force yourself out of your anxiety about cameras. You were doing so much better now. You were at a point where Joe - but only Joe - could take your photo. After you got your closure with Nick, you allowed him to post one of you onto his Instagram. It made you nervous, and you wondered if people might discover your old shame, but you pushed that all away. Joe posted a photo of you, holding your little bump right after he’d made you laugh. It was a great shot.

That was something that helped. When Joe made you laugh, you were immediately relaxed, almost unaware that he was taking a picture at all. He knew just how to make you comfortable enough to get an amazing one of you. Even you couldn’t deny they looked good.

His captions melted your heart as well. The first photo he put up that included your face read: “This is my beautiful girlfriend. She’s amazingly brave, talented, and smart. She’s also giving me the greatest joy of my life. Y/N, I love you. I can’t wait to see our son grow up guided by the greatest mother in the world.” It got you choked up.

Everything would have been perfect if it hadn’t been for your pregnancy making you feel sick and tired all the time. Your headaches were pretty intense, and you still had nausea. You also had swelling around your ankles that you were positive couldn’t be normal. You had a doctor’s appointment before you would leave for Los Angeles, and you made a note to tell Dr. Barrow your concerns. Joe wouldn’t be going with you because he’d be in London for the UK premiere of BoRhap. You promised to send him a picture, though.

You weren’t sure you liked Dr. Barrow much. When you told him about what you were going through, he insisted it was normal pregnancy stuff. He seemed a bit uninterested and overwhelmed by the fact that he also had Dr. Jones’s patients. You felt completely dismissed and unheard.

“Dr. Barrow,” you said. “I don’t think you understand. These headaches are splitting -”

“They’re always ‘splitting’ to you ladies, aren’t they?” he returned with a tired wave of his hand. “I assure you, what you’re going through is normal.”

You frowned. “And it’s still okay for me to drive all the way to LA?”

He nodded. “Of course. As long as you get plenty of rest and continue to take your prenatal vitamins, you and your baby will be fine.”

You felt a little uneasy about him, but took his word that you’d be fine. That afternoon, when you told Joe about it over FaceTime, he seemed concerned, but unsure how to handle it.

“I guess we have to trust him,” he said. “He’s the professional.”

You shrugged. “I suppose so. Hey, do you want to see the picture?”

“Of course!”

You held up the sonogram. “Behold, my love, your child.”

He chuckled. “Aw, he’s amazing! I miss you two.”

“We miss you too,” you replied. “But I’m sure you’re having loads of fun in London.”

He began excitedly telling you what he and  the guys had been up to. You smiled and listened carefully, laughing a few times. Your hand rested limply on your baby bump, phone dangling from the pop socket. All of a sudden, Joey gave a mighty kick, knocking your phone right out of your hand and it slid onto the bed.

“Joey!” you gasped, poking him gently. “That was rude!”

“Baby?” Joe’s voice came from somewhere in the covers. “What just happened?”

You picked up your phone and held it properly. “Your son just kicked the phone out of my hand.”

He laughed. “Wow, he’s a strong boy.”

“This is hardly congratulatory behavior,” you returned.

“Is he still moving?” he asked. “I wanna see.”

You lowered phone to your protruding belly, and focused the camera so he could see Joey’s little feet popping up. Joe gasped.

“It only gets more awesome every time I see it!” he said.

“Do you miss your daddy, Joey?” you cooed to your belly. “I miss him too.”

“I’ll be home soon,” he said as you brought the phone up to your face again. “Just one more day and then I’ll be on a plane.”

Shortly after, you said goodnight and tried to get some sleep. It felt awfully lonely in the house by yourself, but you took comfort in the fact that Joe would be home soon. Then you would start your first family road trip.

You followed the premiere coverage from your desk at work. Several people were watching, since you worked in entertainment. Emily sat with you, shaking her head in amazement.

“I can’t believe you’re going to the one in LA,” she said. “It looks so glamorous.”

“Or terrifying,” you said with a gulp.

You could see all the cameras and flashing lights as Joe and the rest walked down the carpet and into the theater. Your heart gave a nervous flutter.

“Oh, Joe’s talking,” she said. “Turn it up.”

You did so and you caught that the reporter was asking about you and the baby.

“Yeah, Y/N is doing great and so is the baby,” he said, beaming. “I’m so excited, I feel like I have so many blessings right now. Between this film and having a family, I just...I can hardly believe I’m so lucky.”

“How did you meet Y/N?” the reporter asked.

“We actually knew each other as kids!” Joe told her. “Fourth grade. We were friends and then she moved away, but we found each other again through work.”

“Wow, that’s amazing!” the reporter said.

“Right?” Joe agreed. “Where’s our Hallmark movie?”

She laughed. “So, are you two hearing wedding bells?”

“We’ve talked about it, and we know we want to commit to each other,” he said. “No plans to bite that bullet just yet though. We’re focused on getting the baby here.”

“That’s a good thing to focus on,” she said. “Thanks for talking with us, Joe. And congratulations!”

“Thank you!” he returned and walked over to the next camera.

Emily sighed. “The way he talks about you is so sweet. I mean, his eyes just light right up. That must be so nice.”

You smiled. “It’s wonderful. He’s wonderful.”

Forty-eight hours went by, and before you knew it, you and Joe were on the road, heading west to Los Angeles. Unfortunately, you wouldn’t be able to stop and sight see because you were on a tight schedule to make it there in time for the premiere. Even so, Joe made it fun. He told you a bit about LA, since you’d never been before. Nervous as you were about the premiere, you were excited to be there with Joe.

The night of the premiere came. You and Joe were staying with Rami and Lucy. You honestly considered pretending to be ill to get out of it. You were so nervous, your body shook. Lucy had to help you into your dress and do your hair because you were just unable.

“Y/N, if you can’t do this, you don’t have to go,” Lucy said gently as she laid a curl across your shoulder. “Joe will understand.”

“No, I promised him I would,” you insisted. “Besides, like Joe always tells me, I can do anything.”

She smiled. “You two are adorable.”

“How do you do this, Lucy?” you asked. “What a good trick to keep in mind?”

“Focus on one thing at a time instead of the big picture,” she advised. “That way it doesn’t seem like so much. Stick close to Joe, and you’ll be alright.”

You nodded.

When you met Joe and Rami downstairs, they both gaped at the two of you.

“You look wonderful,” Rami said to his girlfriend. “You both do.”

“Lucy looks wonderful,” you returned playfully. “I look like a planet.”

“Hey, that’s my girlfriend you’re talking about,” Joe said, feigning offense.

You all chuckled.

“You look beautiful, baby,” he said seriously, kissing you on the cheek. “I love you.”

The four of you headed out to the awaiting limo to take you to the theater and the premiere. You felt so on edge that even a bump in the road made you grip Joe’s hand tighter. You hadn’t gotten to try having other people take photos and videos of you, and you were unsure if you could handle it.

“Fuck, I wish I could drink,” you said under your breath.

Joe laughed. “I wish you could too. I’m pretty sure you’re breaking my fingers.”

“Imagine what it’ll be like during childbirth,” Rami joked.

“Oh please, childbirth isn’t nearly as bad as they make it out to be in movies,” you said.

“You’re not scared, Y/N?” Lucy wondered.

You looked at her and shrugged. “Not really, no. My body is made to do it. And with an epidural, I won’t feel much besides pressure.”

She looked impressed. You gave Joe’s hand another nervous squeeze.

“I’m gonna check your pulse,” he said. “You still have feeling in your fingers?”

You nodded. “So far.”

“That’s good,” he said gently. He pressed his fingers to your neck. “Definitely got a quick pulse, but you’re doing so well, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

“I hope you’re not speaking too soon,” you muttered.

“I’m not,” he told you. “We’ve arrived.”

The car came to a stop. You sucked in a breath and looked wildly at him.

“You guys go,” he said to Rami and Lucy. “We’re right behind you.”

They shuffled out of the car. Joe took your face in his hands and held your gaze fiercely.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said. “Everyone here loves you. You got this. Stay with me.”

You nodded. He placed a swift peck on your lips. He moved so he could exit the car first. When he opened the door, you gulped. He stepped out, and you briefly considered telling the driver to go and take you with him. But you would not abandon Joe. Carefully, you scooted to the door, sticking one foot out and letting it hit the carpet. You reached out your hand, and Joe’s found it. You held your swollen belly and Joe practically lifted you out of the car.

The roar was deafening. The cameras clicked, reporters shouted questions, and music blasted from somewhere else. You held Joe’s arm and took a deep breath. The car pulled away as you stepped forward and you were forced to resign yourself to it.

You glanced at the cameras and felt your stomach drop. Joe’s arm secured you around your waist and you met his eyes.

“Stay with me,” he said again, and kissed your temple.

You let him lead you down the carpet closer to the cameras. Joe walked up to the first reporter, who was from the LA office of Everything Entertainment. You beamed at his consideration. He thought that if you knew the company you were talking to, you might feel more comfortable.

“We’ve been dying to see your beautiful baby mama up close, Joe,” the reporter said before grinning at you. “You look stunning.”

“Th-thank you,” you managed.

“How far along are you?” she asked.

“Just over six months,” you replied.

“Really?” she gasped. “You seriously look great to be six months pregnant. When’s the due date?”

“February 20th,” Joe answered.

“You guys excited?”

“We’re positively giddy,” he said.

The next few interviews went similarly. You found yourself relaxing more and more each minute. Everyone told you how great you looked, and you let yourself believe them. The security of having Joe beside you made you feel at home. Then, you saw two people who made your heart skip a beat: Brian May and Roger Taylor. You slapped Joe’s arm with excitement.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Holy shit,” you breathed, nodding your head toward them.

“Oh, yeah, let’s go say hi,” he said, grabbing your hand and taking you over.

They were talking to the rest of the cast already so you were grateful you could blend in. Joe clearly wasn’t letting that happen.

“Bri, Rog,” he said. “This is Y/N Y/L/N. My wonderful girlfriend who is having my baby.”

They both shook your hand and smiled kindly at you. You opened your mouth to say hello, but at that moment, little Joey kicked out once more. You gasped and clutched it.

“You alright?” Joe asked.

“He’s kicking,” you returned. “I guess he wants to say hello too. You guys wanna feel?”

They both agreed and placed their hands softly on your belly. You could hardly believe the founding members of Queen were gushing over your baby bump. They also told you you looked beautiful.

“A little boy, yeah?” asked Roger

You nodded. “Little Joey!”

“Very sweet,” said Brian. “Congratulations, to both of you.”

He hugged you and kissed your cheeks. Roger followed suit. Now you really thought you might faint.

Ben came bounding over to you suddenly. He embraced Roger first, then Brian, and then he practically tackled Joe, kissing his neck. Joe laughed, clapping Ben on the back as they swayed together for a moment.

“I missed you, mate,” Ben said.

“It’s been like five days,” Joe returned. “But that is five days too long, huh?”

Ben nodded and then came over to you. He grinned and rubbed your belly as he hugged you.

“Hello, beautiful,” he said.

“Hi, Ben,” you returned.

“You feeling alright?” he wondered.

You smiled and nodded. Gwilym came over next and greeted you just as warmly, though without nearly knocking Joe off his feet. He also kissed your cheek.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said. “You look so lovely. How’s the baby?”

“He’s fantastic,” you said. “Thank you for asking.”

Allen approached next, extending his hand politely before introducing himself. “It’s great to finally meet you in person!”

“You too!” you agreed.

When Rami and Lucy joined, the photographers started yelling, desperate for a shot of everyone together with Brian and Roger. You started to back out of the frame, but Joe and Ben each took one of your arms and forced you back in. You giggled and accepted it. You truly didn’t think this night could get any better.

The movie was fantastic. You were a sobbing mess by the end of it, because they told the story well, and you were so incredibly proud of these people who had become your friends. You felt it was a great success.

The afterparty was also so fun. Originally, you had planned to go back to Rami and Lucy’s, but Joe insisted on going to the afterparty. He said it was going to be great and you needed to be there. Rolling your eyes, you indulged him, but you really did end up having a great time. They got Queen karaoke going, and Joe was perhaps the most enthusiastic of everyone.

“If I could have everyone’s attention for a second,” Joe said, when  the party was in full swing. “I have a little dedication I’d like to make to my beautiful girlfriend, Y/N. This song is called Misfire and it’s written by John Deacon.”

Everyone laughed, including you, but the music didn’t start.

“I’m kidding,” he said. “I’m not singing Misfire. But, Y/N, if you could join me up here.”

Rami helped you to your feet and onto the stage. Your heart was beating wildly as you felt the room of eyes on you. You turned to Joe, holding his gaze.

“Y/N,” he said, and you saw tears begin to form in his brown eyes. “This is a really special night, for a few reasons. First is the release of our wonderful film, Bohemian Rhapsody. Second is...well...I love you so much. More than I ever thought I could love a person. And you’re giving me something that I can never even hope to repay you for. Our son.”

“Joe…” you sighed, choking up.

“Hold on, I’m not finished,” he said. “I knew from the minute I met you - back in fourth grade - that no matter what happened, we’d be together. It was just a physical law of the universe. The years and geography kept us apart, but we’ve certainly done a lot of catching up since then.” The crowd chuckled. “I don’t want to waste any more time.”

He sank to one knee and your heart leapt to your throat. He pulled a ring from his pocket and held it out to you as you - and everyone else - gasped. The ring was beautiful. The stone was not a diamond, but a pearl. It was unique, like you and Joe, and your story.

“Y/N,” he began again. “Will you marry me?”

You could barely form words. Your brain buzzed with elation. Slowly, you nodded, tears falling from your eyes.

“Yes!” you finally choked out and he slipped the ring on your finger. “Oh my God, Joe, yes!”

He leapt to his feet and pulled you in for the kiss of a lifetime. This kiss was the seal of your promise to each other. The people around you erupted into applause. Ben whistled loudly. You and Joe came down the steps together, immediately getting hugs and kisses from your friends. But nothing else mattered when you locked eyes with Joe again. He was it for you. Your whole future. Your whole heart. Everything was just you and Joe.

[coolmarriagerecords]

Johan Kugelberg's Top 100 DIY Singles

From Ugly Things via http://www.hyped2death.com/Kugelberg100.html

1. The Desperate Bicycles -The Medium Was Tedium (Refill Records, 1977 UK) The Desperate Bicycles are the yardstick for this obscurist sub genre. No one did it as easy or as cheap as them. Of the slew of unfathomable brilliant pop 45's, The Medium Was Tedium is the apex: The enthusiasm, anger and joy de vivre that oozes from the tracks contained within has me reaching for Village Green-Kinks and first album Cramps to describe the passion. For drunken, leftist dorm-room intellectuals to describe the faith and for Dez/Chavo-era Black Flag to describe the power ? notwithstanding that the recordings themselves are of 4-track bedroom shut-in lo-fi jangle. Too bad the band don't want the material re-released but a good thing indeed that the records barely rate at all in the collector scum price guide pantheon.

2. Beyond The Implode -Last Thoughts EP (Diverse Records UK 1979) Barrett/early-Floyd psych as good (or better) than any Soft Boys, obscurist strum & drang way more passionate than any Flying Nun band I've heard and Inflammable vocals of the purest Oxbridge confusion. The Spacemen 3 never did anything to match this record. [Messthetics #6]

3. V/A -Weird Noise EP (Fuck Off Records UK 1980) The legend doesn't start here, but at least this isn't a cassette-only release in an edition of 50 copies or so like the majority of the Fuck Off Records oeuvre. This lines up the finest advocates of tuneless bashing within the UK late 70's underground: The 012, Danny and the Dressmakers, the Instant Automatons, The Door and the Window and finally the Sell Outs who seem to be Danny and the Dressmakers under a different moniker. The cut "Please Don't Make Another Bass Guitar Mr. Rickenbacker" showcases one of the odder qualities popular music can have: The ability to disorientate the listener. "Simply the very best in bad music" indeed! [Danny...Messthetics Greatest Hits]

4. Desperate Bicycles ? New Cross, New Cross (Refill Records, UK 1978) The godlike power of "I Make The Product" or "Advice On Arrest" (two of the songs on this six song EP) deliver a little salvation of sorts ? the Desperate Bicycles make you believe, make you feel a sense of belonging. Music does that when it is this good. 5.Slugfuckers ? Three Feet Behind Glass EP (No label Australia 1979) Invoke the god Nyarlathotep they do, cover Manson-songs w/o ever having heard him they do, shmear on the middle class art school elitism thick they do. This is an extreme record; noisier and more abrasive than most first generation industrial stuff, a hell of a lot more punk than, say, the Lewd and intelligent in a scary, vicious bullying kind of way. A blazing, hard record at the same time as everything is slightly out of tune, kind of inept and sorta shoddy sounding.

6. Popes -Knup In Your Eye (Vatican Records. UK 1980) This appeared on the worldwide punk list a few issues ago, and educated guesses can be made for this appearing on any other lists I might do in the future. Not only is the record the cats pajamas as far as relentless art school mirth goes (Derek & Clive go through puberty, again!) but the throb and spark of the band makes for repeated play. And then we have to tag on the swollen nostalgia of my friend buying the only copy at the Rough trade shop in 1980 leaving me with none until Bill Forsyth digs one up for me in his back room, oh yeah, and one for Geoffrey too.

7. The Flak -EP (Northern Records UK 1980 (?)) Starts with a depressed "why am I here" poem and moves straight along into "Knocking on Heaven's Door" done dorm-angst-diy-style. This is followed by what sounds like the band attempting a Joy Division-style song the first time they pick up musical instruments. Completely inept, utterly charming and brilliant indeed. Top shelf genre defining DIY.

8. Fatal Microbes -Beautiful Pictures (Small Wonder, UK 1979) Certainly the best record with Honey Bane on it. Charming, relentless punk-crazed homemade guitar crunch. The window of opportunity of the UK underground musicscene in the late 70's is clearly demonstrated here: I doubt the Fatal Microbes stupendous teen energy could have been nurtured in the world of merchandising deals and first-look demo A&R we live in today.

9. The Silver -Do You Wanna Dance (Black Label Finland 1980) The Silver -No More Grease (Black Label Finland 1979) A riddle wrapped inside an enigma etc. The band appears to be around 12 ? 13 years old. They hail from Finland where the trail grew cold a long long time ago. Maybe upon the release of the record. Pussy Galore without post-modern baggage. "Love Theme from the Snails" as performed by SPK. 12 year olds virtually destroying a recording studio captured on tape, not once but four times.

10. Instant Automatons -Peter Paints His Fence EP (Deleted Records UK 1980) More Fuck Off/Street Level-related sublime nonsense. The battle call is the track "People Laugh At Me Cuz I Like Weird Music" which states: "I was at a pub the other night, when a bunch of mods came in, they eyed me up, then they asked me: Hey man what's your scene? Are you a hippie a mod or a punk? Got a scooter or a motorbike? I can't understand why they burst out laughing when I told them the music I like, because: People Laugh At Me Cuz I Like Weird Music People just don't understand Why pay six pounds for an album when you can, listen to a weird noise band for free I had a girlfriend named Josephine, she liked Abba and the Bee Gees. She thought music was about lawyers and accountants, percentages and legal fees. Just the other night we stayed up late, playing records til half past ten, then I played the Danny and the Dressmakers tape and I never saw Josephine again, because: People Laugh At Me Cuz I Like Weird Music People just don't understand Why pay six pounds for an album when you can, listen to a weird noise band for free" The gospel, folks. From God's mouth to your ear via the Instant Automatons. [Instant Automatons 'Another Wasted Sunday Afternon' CD]

11. Sir Alick and the Phraser -In Search of the Perfect Baby (Black Noise UK 1980) As Chuck Warner put it: They wrote beautiful pop songs then destroyed them. More Homosexuals pseudonymous mystique. The intelligent reader who followed our previous musings on this band and their universe know how much we love them and how much they perpetually pull our collective leg. No straight-ahead answers in this lifetime which is fine ? fine as far as record collecting is concerned, fine as far as lifemanship is concerned.[The Homosexuals -Astral Glamour 3CD]

12. The Four Plugs -Biking Girl (Disposable Records UK 1979) The subtle charm of marginal culture: Truly marginal culture where 1000 singles were pressed more than 22 years ago. How many got lost? How many are never being played? How many are stored in a box in the attic? How many are being played repeatedly on turntables that cost ten times as much as the recording and pressing of this given 45? "She used to be my biking partner ? she used to be my biking girl. We used to go for rides in the country side". A true punk rock/diy statement issued by the Damaged Goods people, who knew their Chesterton and Thomas Browne.

13. The Evening Outs -Channel (Refill Records UK 1980) Super-fierce skronk from a pissed-off pseudonymous Desperate Bicycles. Puts that no wave stuff to shame, really.

14. Puritan Guitars -100 Pounds in 15 Minutes (Riverside Records UK 1980) How much it cost to make the record and how long it took. Genius sturm und sturm und sturm und drang clank from a seriously inspired one chord wonder.[Messthetics Greatest Hits and Messthetics #104]

15. The Flying Brix -EP (Modello Records UK 1980) So subtle it can barely be heard: A band consisting of Wally's and Erberts, with the odd dead-end yob or two. This record could've been released by Illegal, Fuck Off or fit in on Carry On Oi. It could also have been performed on an episode of Noddy or by Flanagan & Allen. Ur-English music, this.[Messthetics #104]

16. Shrinking Men/Beevers -Hazards in the Home EP (Pop Records UK 1981) The Beevers present a Guthrie-esque talking blues here, except that it isn't a blues, but a charming DIY-shuffle, and that Woody Guthrie as far as I know never sang about the plight and blight of the office boy. The Shrinking Men in turn showcase an angry, loutish anti-army rant that Phil Ochs would've been pretty proud of I think. And there you have it: The folk music connection rears its uncombed head. [Beevers -Messthetics #6]

17. Handgrenades -Demo To London (Phonographics (?) USA 1980 (?)) Coulda fooled me ? Excellent primitive punk/chug/diy from Noo Yak City! Who woulda thunk? Somewhere between "Pink Flag" and Fuck Off Records.

18. Homosexuals -You Are Not Moving The Way You Are Supposed To (Black Noise UK 1980 (?)) An untouchable band, and the lack of a retrospective isn't much of a crime in this house (I have lots of their records snicker snicker snicker) but in other people's houses it sure is. As if Gang of Four would've been any good, as if Wire would've immersed themselves in dub, as if indeed. Parallel universe chart toppers indeed. We all know that there is at least one world out there in the ultra-cosmos where the proverbial kids are kicking these jams daily. A truly inspired and inspiring record..[The Homosexuals -Astral Glamour 3CD]

19. Cindy and the Barbi Dolls -Press The Shutter EP (A Not Major Production UK 1980) Dorm angst at its very best. Dark, brooding overtly romantic without gothing it up, these jams have the same lurking power as the pre-Joy Division Warsaw EP or the spookier first line up Soft Boys tracks. A possible sister band to Beyond the Implode in the sense that they play a curiously British form of psychedelic music in the midst of the DIY lack of musical chops. This Cornwall band were seemingly very hip to musical peers, thanking the Desperate Bicycles, the Mekons and Ralph and the Ponytails on the sleeve. There are musical (and one lyrical) nod to the Kinks "Village Green Preservation Society" as well. A very good thing. [Messthetics #7]

20. Versatile Newts -Newtrition (Shanghai Records UK 1980) If this record hadn't existed we would've had to invent it: The marriage/blend of the Swell Maps, This Heat and the TV Personalities. In equal chunks with no lumps. Gadzooks! [Messthetics #103]

21. Pink Dirt -Hey Sir (No label Norway 1979) As far as inept, crazed joi de vivre goes ? Here's the acme. I've written this one up before and will do it again. While this is obviously a straight-ahead angry punk rock band, the abandon and enthusiasm of this record could raise the dead. An angry rant against organized religion ("I have this to say tonight ? never, never get involved with christianity!") howled in a barely English Johnny Rotten-imitation by some Norwegian genius backed by shitrock more primitive than the first Endless Boogie rehearsal. There is no sleeve, no labels, just the legend "Pink Dirt Hey Sir/Hooker" scrawled in magic marker. Who were these gods and why did they walk among us? Please email me if you know anything about the people behind this stunning art experience.

22. Scrotum Poles -Revelation EP (One Tone Records Scotland 1980) Helicopter Honeymoon is going to be played at least three record collector funerals I know of, not including mine. The mighty, mighty Scrotum Poles, proudly proclaiming "DIY! We love the TV Personalities" on the shoddy, xeroxed sleeve. Their website (http://home.switchboard.com/hornstreet) is highly recommended, though we're hesitant to vouch for its complete veracity. Here's how they tell it: "'Pick the Cats Eyes Out' featured lyrics found on the back of a set list by one of the first Dundee punk bands, Bread Poultice and the Running Sores..." [Somebody please send us a demo tape!] "Helicopter Honeymoon," meanwhile, came from a headline "in the Sunday Post." What we should add for American fans is that "cats eyes" are what Brits (and Scots) call those little orange reflectors embedded in highway pavement: "Cats Eyes Out Ahead" used to be a common roadside sign. [Messthetics Greatest Hits and Messthetics #105]

23. File Under Pop -Corrugate (Rough Trade UK 1979 (?)) Godlike DIY power. Primitive grunting, out of tune skeletal instrumentation and noises recorded at Heathrow. I know a guy with an extra copy who'll swap it for Butchy Butch and the Butch Butchers.

24. Nancy Sesay and the Melodaires -C'est Fab (It's War Boys UK 1981 (?)) Un-musical, un-punk and possibly unpleasant music hall-esque skronk/DIY by the godlike Homosexuals using one of their myriad of pseudonyms. And whence you can't imagine the doofus art wank getting any more unlistenable, they spin on a dime and throw in a beautiful chorus sitting on top of a backwardsy funky drummer beat. I am, as per usual, in awe. Shall I hook some enterprising young bootlegger up with a CDR of all their stuff?

25. Performing Ferret Band -Brow-Beaten (Dead Hippy Records UK 1981) Deeply moving primitive musical fumble from this rare 45 by the masters behind the in my mind most seminal LP to come out of DIY. The eponymous Performing Ferret Band LP, which features jaw-droppers such as "Plastic Macho Man", "Fizzly Drinks" or "Great Duos Of Our Time". Fantastic over-enthusiastic juvenilia of an almost supernatural beauty. The Performing Ferrets - no one told us CD (Messthetics #216)

26. Different Eyes/Royston - Shish EP (Tuzmadoner Records UK 1979) One of the two masterpieces released on the Tuzmadoner label (the other being a 12" comp entitled, uh, "folk music" bringing up more parallels to skiffle that we should probably choose to ignore). Royston are like Flanagan & Allen fronting the world's greatest shit rock band. Different Eyes sound more lethargic than anyone else I've heard I think, and I used to work for Pavement's label. Simon Gilham from either Royston or the 'Eyes later played in Colin Newman's solo band. [Royston -Messthetics Greatest Hits and #1; Different I's -Messthetics #101 (plus their even better track from Folk Music)]

27. Homosexuals -Hearts In Exile (Black Noise UK 1978) Words fail me. As far as beauty goes, this is like Mozart or Shirley Collins. Probably their greatest moment. Somewhere along the lines of Brill Building and traditional UK folk and the Upsetters and ESP Records all at once in perfect harmony. A milestone, I think, and a record that I'd place in a timecapsule of 20th century folk art.[The Homosexuals -Astral Glamour 3CD]

28. Andrew Klimek -Felt Hammer (Mustard Records USA 1979) The guitar break alone sends this one soaring over the sky scrapers. Has that patented and most beautiful basement 4-track sound down pat even though I get more and more convinced that all those legendary Cleveland bands all were record collector rock of the umpteenth degree. Extraordinarily self-aware, sly and with meticulously thought out records, this one being no exception. The pompous liner notes on the sleeve of the 45 proves me right. You got to be some kind of Apples in Stereo-type shmuck to brag on a record sleeve that you put the bass guitar through a ring modulator.

29. Mekons -Never Been In A Riot (Fast Records UK 1978) Way before they became icky hippy-punk icons for aging counter culture types across the world they released a couple of singles of gorgeous nihilist slop. This is the first, and the funniest and the noisiest.

30. Jelly Babies -De Nada EP (No label name UK 1981) Simply heaven. A clumsy speed-chug with lyrics about a day of roller-skating and lovely pre-pubescent boozy backing vocals. Genius. Extra-tinny sound, extra passionate execution. I've quoted this portion of the notes on the (shoddy xerox, natch) sleeve: "Recorded at Dirt Cheap Studios, the best studios in the whole wide world by Grant Showbiz, the most silly person in the whole wide world, who steals your food and has a nice red guitar with a super tremelo arm which somebody gave him." Like Blake, the words transcend space, time and mortality. You need this record. Crunchy granola collectors should also note that I have personally seen at least five different (shoddy xerox) picture sleeves for this record where the priority can be determined with relative accuracy using the carbon 14 method. [one from the EP is coming on London v.III: another song from the EP demos appears on Messthetics Greatest HISS (Messthetics #110)

31. Thin Yoghurts -Girl On the Bus (Lowther Street Runner Records UK 1980) More sing-a-longa-slop-charm. You can take the limey out of the music hall but you can't Cute, touching and romantic lyrics about lusting over some tasty lassie on the bus to the kippers factory. They did this record as well as a cassette, which is a hundred bucks in your sweaty palm, if you send it to me. [Messthetics Greatest Hits]

32. Lucky Pierre -This Could Be The Night (No label USA 1984 (?)) Scuzzy, phenomenal art-rant by some Ohio Bowie-boy who'd re-record these musical chairs of Chain Gang, Klaus Nomi and cocaine freebase ten years later for Trent Reznor's label adding a "industrial dance beat" to the mess and changing the band name to Prick. Supposedly (some record-log-pincher told me) there were only 50 copies pressed for Lucky Pierre to use as record deal bait (also the reason that the lyrics are etched on the flip together with a ten second excerpt of the song). Well, I guess it worked. I seem to recall seeing a video for the re-recorded version on MTV during ol' Pierre's 15 seconds in the spotlight. The awe-inspiring power of this record remains tho'.

33. Skabb -78 EP (Mistlur Sweden 1978) Track 2 side one is jaw-dropping Opus-style DIY-crunch punk with Kriminella Gitarrer-guitar breaks. I can't believe this isn't a hotly pursued record by herd-following punk rock turd-swallowers round the globe. Fantastic slop-o-rama-lama-fa-fa-fa production too.

34. V/A -Angst In My Pants double EP (Street Level UK 1979) Imagine how good the previous 33 records on this list are, as I guarantee by risk of punishment of rock writer hyperbole, that this is doubtlessly one of the finest records I've ever heard, and the second greatest compilation in the history of rock! How can I say this wonders Rutger the Punk from his bedroom in Krakow ? Well the proof is in the pudding: Not only does the record include some of the finest recorded moments by the legendary Instant Automatons (who unknowingly channel the Monks!), 012 and the Door and the Window, but furthermore a rare vinyl appearance by the Digital Dinosaurs, heralded by me, Mario and Geoffrey in that most smug sort of way as unheralded gods of music! If that ain't enough you get some fine TVP-related spurts from the Missing Persons and extremely do it yourself DIY frenzy from the Midnight Circus. Who in "Silicone Baby" and "Hedonist Jive" have out-poignanted a tow-truck full of Aimee Mann's and Michelle Shocked's edgy humanity and funny as shit to boot. [Digital Dinsaurs and Instant Automatons are on Messthetics Greatest Hits: Midnight Circus have their own CD...And there's more on Deleted/Street Level at the Instant Automatons website]

35. Pleemobielz -Dagenlang Balen (Kamikaze Records Holland 1981) More sociological sloganeering a la Midnight Circus here: Dagenlang Balen which needlessly translates as "fuck all day" roars through the speakers with all the might of a bunch of over-testosteroned 16 year old virgins singing about what they think it'll be like to have sex some day. Tinniest sound in history. When a copy finally showed up on my doorstep after the fucking (literally!) record had spent a solid 10 years on my want list my expectations were quite low since anyone I had talked to who had heard the record all stated that it was weak/a waste of time etc. Well: It being a want list staple has more to do with the scarcity of the disc than it being a desirable punk rock record. However: It is an extremely desirable record if frenzied DIY bliss is your chosen poison.

36. Just Urbain -Guns & Guitars (No label Australia 1979) Another amazing DIY record from Australia, this one definitely sports a spiritual kinship with SPK, the Slugfuckers, the first Thought Criminals record, and those Systematics and Tactics records I need to find. Very dark, scuzzy art-damaged DIY that (a la Cabaret Voltaire or early SPK) is well aware of the fine krautrock musics coming out of Germany on Ohr or Sky a few years previously. The proto punk of say Neu or Cosmic Jokers is here handled with poisonous skronky passion.

37. The Gags -Sex Ist Schau (Leg Auf Records Germany 1981) And then one has to simply wonder if the belly laughs generated by this piece of vinyl have racist connotations: How much are we allowed to laugh at the Germans? This might be the stiffest record I've heard. The vocals lyrical bark manages to reanimate Basil Fawlty's classic performance in the "Germans" episode as well as the Sprockets. The jams are crazed. Stiff, yes, but crazed.

38. Desperate Bicycles -Smokescreen (Refill Records UK 1977) Their debut, more aggressive than a lot of the other classics and maybe it was the year. This is the 45 that launched hundreds of others: Two songs on one side to save mastering costs, the cheapest packaging, music that had to be documented, and it didn't matter if it was done in the cheapest and easiest way imaginable. [Messthetics #8]

39. Butter Utter -Jävlarnas Jul (Leonid Breznjev Records Swe 1977) Took me ages to find this one. Extremely inept, Shaggs-like fumble with a certain Je Ne Sais Qui of punk rock aggression. A lot of Killed by Death-types paid a lot of moola for this one, that some guy hyped to the moon in a Boston straight-edge fanzine back in the 80's. Only truly "punk" in the musical disaster sense of the word.

40. Cut-Outs -DIY (EMI UK 1979) Great novelty pop monster complete with carpentry noises. Possibly not a DIY record at all, but since the genre is made up by people like me this is a DIY record cuz I sez so. [NOT on Messthetics #7]

41. Massmedia ? EP (Massproduktion Swe 1979) Debut sloppiness from future KBD mainstays. There is no discernable musical ability to be found on this record and yet they play and play and play. The energy level is however awe-inspiring.

42. Dagens Ungdom -EP (Mistlur Swe 1980) Having an art school wank with Dagens Ungdom. Brilliant faux-DIY released on one of the major noo wave era indie labels of Sweden, home of Ebba Gron. All songs have titles nabbed from Kafka books, lyrics are more adjective heavy than a tub full o' Morrisey and the music is flawless DIY stumble n' fumble.

43. The Discounts -Selling Records (Original Records UK 1980) Blank 1000-yard stare DIY novelty straight out of High Fidelity. The lyric is a monologue as by a bored-to-tears record store clerk. The jams are sub-sub-sub-Blockheads DIY stumble. Extremely amusing.

44. Grinder Wickford's So Boring -EP (Wax Records UK 1979) Forget punk rock, bring in hick-rock! The aliases of the band read: "Dav-Id, Si-Kic, Terry-Ball, Stu-Pid and Holy-Grail"!. Three band members have moustaches! The singer is wearing a Rocky Horror t-shirt! The a-side is a "humorous" ditty about the acne problem of Spiderman, reflecting the sleeve front depicting some fool in a Spiderman costume driving a tractor, The b-side is an anti-fuzzy dice song. Genius. It is obvious to me that Wickford wasn't boring at all as long as you hung out with the bold gents of Grinder. The songs range from primitive clunky riff-rock to DIY jangle of the highest order. Messthetics #101

45. Psykik Volts -Totally Useless (Ellie Jay Records UK 1979) More Music Hall-punk DIY genius. The spirit of Vivian Stanshall is looming large; as is the empty pint glasses littering the room as this 45 is stuck on repeat. All together now: "It's to-tal-ly useless"!! The sleeve bears the legend: "Side A: recorded in a sock, Side B: recorded in a morgue. May god bless vocalist and songwriter Victor Vendetta. Now pardon me while I go to the corner and cry.

46. Raisinets -More Fun To Play Than To Listen To (Fun-Ethic Records USA 1979) Fantastic record-collector hippie-punk a la Gizmos/Afrika Korps/Half Japanese. Primitive guitar duets complete with questionable production values and mucho muchacho helpings of pure static. Great post-arrest pre-OD lyrics making fun of Sid too.

47. Dag Vag -Dimma (Ball Records Swe 1978) Two years after this record was released, Dag Vag were playing new wave-scented white-boy reggae to sell-out crowds all over Sweden. This, however, is a one-man band bedroom project by a Träd Gräs & Stenar roadie who had discovered punk rock and the DIY scene. Beautiful dark/sinister home studio atmospherics, killer fuzz guitar and demented lyrics about psychiatric care and drug experiences. A great record. And by all means: Don't buy any other Dag Vag records after you've obtained this one.

48. I Jog & the Tracksuits - Redbox (Tyger Label UK 1978) More lost artform unique stumble-rumble from the UK. Sounds like it was recorded under water this one. A petty miracle of a pop tune with a sublime lyric about waiting for the bus. Gotta bless em for the stamina it takes to get a record out: Recording, Mixing, Mastering, Designing, Printing, Approving, Distributing, Balancing. All to get a little song about missing the bus heard by me 22 years later.

49. Injections -Prison Walls (Radioactive Records USA 1980) This has always been an extremely desired and expensive record in KBD/Japanese Tasty/Moustache circles, and it doubtlessly deserves its inflated price tag even though we aren't talking chainsaw-buzz punk rock per se here.

50. Devils Hole Gang -Free The People (Slow Burning Fuse Records UK 1979) Huge moustaches, huge choruses, and a record that sounds like it was recorded inside one of those Moroccan hotel showers that basically consist of a huge tube of aluminum siding. My pretentious nature is such that I feel forced to unleash the folk art metaphor for this again. If your friendly neighborhood rare record dealer charges you a couple of C-notes for this and you feel like your being had for big G's by the sleaze, then remember that you are investing in art, not buying a record!!

51. Funboy Five -Life After Death (Cool-Cat Daddy-O Records UK 1980) A pure pop record indeed, but where pricey production values would've turned this into a memorable Stiff Records 45, the band's lack of bucks and resulting throwaway/enthusiasm production and energy has created a masterpiece. Both sides are stalwarts for a neighborhood sing-song or a rousing music hall chorus. Punk rock music hall: A genre waiting to happen again! [Messthetics #101]

52. How To Get Rich In Rotterdam - Dapper Dan (Vormgeving Rotterdam Records Netherlands 1981) Brilliant, plodding art-slop that reeks of inside jokedom. This record is a reason unto itself to pay ebay prices for vintage drum machines.

53. Come -Come Sunday (Come Organization UK 1979) Before William Bennett became the Benny Hill of industrial noise, his band Whitehouse were called Come and released a single and an album which both are quite lovely homemade art-dirge crankiness, a friendly psychedelic kind of crankiness indeed.

54. The Riotous Brothers -Vicki's Dancing (Riotous Records 1980) How all these disparate bands came up with a sound this cohesive is a mystery to me. Any of the hints handed to us through fanzines and interviews only mess things up further: Yes, anyone could form a band, make a record, start a record label indeed. Where it gets weird is why so many of them harbor a similar tinny guitar sound, cardboard-y drums, messy synths, inept recording techniques, smart-assed lefty lyrics and nasal singing tone. This was not a movement. It was just a bunch of stuff that happened. That's all. This record has the beautiful simplicity of a Shaker chair or a Maine seafood soup. The swanky speedpunk of "Operation Zero" or the plink-a plunk-a guitar solo on "Emotional Cripple" will some day have their own wing at the Victoria and Albert museum. Make my art primitive!

55. Partizans -Goods (A-Noyz Records UK 1980) Chain Gang's retarded English cousins. Ace!!

56. Amor Fati -Economics 100 (Yuck/Flesh Records USA 1984 (?) Very angry anti-r&r/anti-big-business slightly tongue in cheek rant that shows spiritual kinship to "Rat City" by the Art Attacks. Vertical Slit/V-3. The odd blend of wanting in, wanting to play the game and wanting to stay the fuck away that is symptomatic for a lot of Ohio underground musicians (Shepard, Hummel, House etc.)

57. Desperate Bicycles -Skill (Refill Records UK 1978) Blazing DIY-shuffle and unmistakenly Bicycles. More pro production which has this one slip further down the list. Still godlike though.

58. Sarah Coffman -Titta Jag Ar Död (Konkurrenz Rekårdz Sweden 1980) Excellent primitive shit-rock by band from my hometown!

59. Hornsey At War -Deadbeat Revival EP (War Product UK 1979) Extremely amusing ultra-sloppy DIY. No discernable production values, sound-as-filtered-through-ground-beef, emotionally charged out-of-tune vocals, crackly guitar (broken cable?) and a true aura of dead end yobs (and jobs) instead of the more common middle class art school vibe as prevailing on most DIY records. Hornsey At War are complaining about English radio too: "They won't play this record on the radio because it poses a threat!" Here tis again: That charming blend of hubris and defeatist that seems to penetrate the psyches of most people involved in underground music and/or collectors of it.

60. Take It -How It Is (Fresh Hold UK 1979) Stunning out of control DIY/noise not unlike a more frenzied Soft Boys, a more good Gang of Four or a less psychotic SPK. Igor and Simon seem like a couple of gents with some hardcore political and intellectual pursuits, and like the Desperate Bicycles before them I sense that the choice of releasing a noisy cheaply recorded 45 with a xerox cover was an act of some sort of political defiance, back in the day where such an act was not co-opted from the ground up by extreme sports and Wall Mart hair dye. [Messthetics Greatest Hits and Messthetics #2]

61. Rough Cuts EP (Z-Block Records UK 1980) Inspired sampler of four bands (The Boywonders, The Ghoulies, The Czechs and the Decadent Few) two of which tell us their age on the cover (The Boywonders are all 16, The Czechs are all 17). Humbling thought that such musical spirit could be mustered at such a tender age. Great variety of flavors too: The Boywonders great inept, spooky DIY strut where the band might think that a reggae influence is prevailing, us knowing that the stumbleblock shuffle bears more resemblance to ancient Celtic airs, the unbearable beauty of the Czechs utter disregard of tone, meter and signatures or the Ghoulies oddly Booker T-esque chug n' scrape. The business, all and all. [Boywonders and Czechs on Messthetics #104: The Z-Block Story is here]

62. The Petticoats -Normal (Bla-Bla-Bla Records UK 1980) Ripping good-kind-feminist anti-normalcy rant. Spiritually uplifting in a way not dissimilar to first-hand experience of medieval church architecture, I shit you not. Recorded at Street Level which means that this record is Fuck Off Records related.

63. Reducers -We Are Normal (Vibes Product UK 1978) The sub genre Geoff Weiss-punk is hereby coined to describe this record. High-energy ineptitude. There is a strange kinship to the Pink Fairies/Deviants axis on this record ? A similarity in energy and attack, notwithstanding that the Reducers really don't know how to play their instruments very well. [Messthetics #1]

64. Il Ya Volkswagens - Kill Myself (Mechanical Reproductions UK 1981) One more year in the rehearsal space for these guys and I wouldn't be writing this. Discernable elements of gothrock and Bauhaus influence can be noticed as a faint vapor in this aural air to speak it in goth-speak, the crunch of the slightly sour guitar, the plodd of the (genius) bass line and the all-in slouch of the lethargic vocalist and the cracked-everyday electronics elevates this dirge into an 18 carat DIY-cruncher.

65. Quite Ridiculous Nonsense -Identity Crisis (No Label USA 1984) Most ace industrial wank of that rare late 70's variety. Wildly entertaining experiments in four track flatulence and transistor radio static.

66. Pervers/Deutscher Abschaum split 7" (Suff Productions Germany 1984) The Godhead. Reminds me of Teddy and the Fratgirls or the Foams in the sense that one gets the notion that these must have been fun gals to hang out with or date. The timeless splendor of the arty urban misfit girl: Her goofy charm and no-holds-barred enthusiasm for all that she found weird, interesting or sexually appetizing. A toast to the art school weirdo outcast girls of the world: May they forever paint their room black or read Hermann Hesse to you in bed! The music is wild, out of control amateuristic slop goes from Electric Eels fuzzed out haterock to drumkits thrown down the stairs to minimal teen-angst and then back. Beautiful stuff. Got this in trade from Thurston Snore for some boring free jazz records back in the day. What a chump!

67. The Prats -Disco Pope (Rough Trade UK 1979) 15-year old Scottish schoolboy punks seething with rage over the demon disco. Early Downliners Sect-style one chord R&B shuffle complete with the drum breaks that made God decide not to spare humanity. Don't miss it!

68. Plast -EP (Stranded Rekords Swe 1979) Four song EP of the finest in teenage punks attempting to embrace the confusion in their head from listening to TG, Cabaret Voltaire and Pere Ubu. An ungodly racket where the hostility of the chosen sounds meets the cozy ineptitude of the random noises. Plenty of short-wave noises and the crappiest of synths. Utterly charming.

9. Raincoats -Fairytale in the Supermarket (Rough Trade UK 1979) All enthusiasm/zero chops Ubu-esque DIY-charm from these stunning ladies. This is the best of their many records. Some kinda CD anthology that I can't find right now was released in the USA on the basis of Kurt Cobain being a big fan.

70. Tone Deaf and the Idiots -Why Does Politics Turn Men Into Toads? (Blue Angel UK 1979) Tone Deaf and the Idiots how do I love thee. This flexi is taken from their debut album Catastrophe Rock which still stands alongside the Damian & the Criterions "Avant Garde", Alvaro's Drinking My Own Sperm and Kräldjursanstalten's Voodoo Boogie as peerless monuments of original thought as far as late 70's underground albums are concerned. Catastrophe rock indeed. This is what "Music from the Big Pink" would've sounded like if it had been performed by the Portsmouth Sinfonia.

71. Desperate Bicycles -Grief Is Very Private (Refill UK 1980) One of the mighty Bicycles more introspective and subtle moments. Their entire recorded output is well worth hearing, and the range of emotions they paint from their palate quite astounding.

72. Door and the Window -I Like the Sound (NB Records UK 1979) One of many brilliant anti-music art school rants by the grand old daddies of the very genre. They like sound, they don't like the Pop Group, they like noise (um yeah!), they don't like butter The list goes on and I can't say that I reached any enlightenment as such by the end of this demented scratchy noise-fumble. But the journey sure was great.

73. Slugfuckers -Instant Classic (PRS Australia 1979) Homosexuals-y whiteguy funk/noise fracture that Liquid Liquid would've been pretty stoked about. Screeching scrape and dumb jokey asides. Who could ask for anything more?

74. Happy Cadavers -Nothing New (Undefined Records UK 1982) Punk/wave slop from the Midwest ? kind of aims for the Stranglers but hits Small Wonder Records. Charming stuff. Give me a fake English accent any day.

75. The Reflections - 4 Countries (Cherry Red UK 1981) Coulda been by the Desperate Bicycles this: stop/start gurgling plodding slop with most excellent Mark P. whining on top. Patented Karl Blake crumble-o-rific drumming not to mention the ambience added by the illustrious Nag of Door and the Window celebrity status. The Reflections album is well worthy of your grease as well as it is more of the same DIY-gunk but with a more contempo Recommended Records-type sound. [Messthetics #1]

76. Reacta -Stop the World (Battery Operated Records UK 1979) Another one that demands the Desperate Bicycles as cultural cookie cutter ? A beautiful ramble with the edgy guitars of Hilton Bomber-Thought Criminals.[Messthetics Greatest Hits]

77. Crash Action Winners - Hurricane Fighter Plane (Sonic International UK 1979) Somewhere in this mess of static and filtered mud are the chord-change(s) of "Hurricane Fighter Plane". The sleeve hints at the band being American, the sounds point straight in the direction of an English middle class art school, and the record cover furthermore defines them as a bunch of record collectors to boot. Not only is a Roky Erickson tune given the same crap-o-riffic sonic treatment, but the shoddy crumb-bum picture sleeve showcases record covers by the Seeds, the 13th Floor Elevators, Russ Meyer and Question Mark and the Mysterians displayed in tasteful collage form. Messthetics #104

78. The Plastic Mechanical Pig -Book Brains (IX Recording Company Japan 1981) Tricky one here, Ricky and Paul, the two guys on the cover of the PMP 45, look like a couple of student teachers and the record sounds like a couple of student teachers recorded a Raisinets/Half Japanese hybrid on a primitive 4 track. Charming record this, with two folky DIY-punk cuts, but why on earth was it released in Japan?

79. V/A - Mell Square Musick EP (Yaw Records UK 1979) I've listened to this record a good dozen times or so, and my jaw still drops. Frenzied homemade punk where the energy could light up a medium-size town. Similar to the Tandstickorshocks, Seems Twice or Red Cross "Born Innocent" LP in its instinctive disregard for notes, chords and melody, the Accused or the 021 are more than deserving of particularly exquisite golden wings in the halls of the Valhalla of Amateurism. I bow my head. [Cracked Actor Messthetics #7; Accused and 021 - Messthetics #103]

80. Tandstickorshocks - Allan Vogalan (King Kong Records Holland 1980) The Dutch Puritan Guitars right here, it is almost spooky how similar the sound of the two bands is. Spinning these 45's makes me wonder if this music somehow managed to sidestep rock & roll and the black music tradition as a core influence. There is something about the Tandstickorshocks which at the same time manages to remind me of Schoenberg, microtonal composers and Irish tin-whistle folk music. This is, needless to say, evidence that I should get out more often, but also that these slices of true-life counterculture juvenilia are not isolated from a cultural context, but embracers of it. Even if it did take a couple of decades for these records to be collected in some kind of organized manner. The kids in Tandstickorshocls must have been aware of Wire and the Young Marble Giants, but the minimal primitive music they create is original in the same manner as the artists on Pat Conte's "Secret Museum of Mankind" compilations.

81. Foams - Paint Me (Pet Me Quick Records USA 1981) A classic of sorts. Frenzied, inept live recordings by this all-girl Austin Texas punk band. The only way that I can explain the similarities to the Slits or the Raincoats are that gals sure have a different way of looking at things, or at least playing drums. Great smutty lyrics and barky art-school vox too.

82. SST -Clutch On the Ward (Tidal Wave Records USA 1977) Super-inept hippie punk/DIY from California with lotsa early punk scenesters name-checked on the sleeve. Ted Falconi pre-Flipper on guitar.

83. The Simple Approach to Newtown Products EP (NTP Records UK 1980) My approach was to pay the inflated price the dealer was asking and happily walk home with this great record. 4 songs, four bands: Crimedesk are toilet-recorded DIY-slop, Basic Unit must be the most amateuristic goth band I've ever heard, Beat Necessity showcase only the finest in tuneless death-dirge with off-key howling and Story So Far is an awesome Joy Division/Factory Records attempt, but with no discernable musical talent. Needless to say, the whole EP is as charming as the day is long.

84. Hörförståelse -Förläst Jävel (CTR Sweden 1980) Demented art skronk of drums, bass and crap keyboards featuring out of tune vocals regurgitating about someone being an over-educated bastard. Perfect, really. A must for fans of primitive shit music.

85. What To Wear - Casual But Smart EP (Basic and Typical Records UK 1980 (?)) Inspired stumble as an attempt to play dub, The Homosexuals can do it ? These guys can't. I don't know if this given failure brought about something new, but this record is a very listenable stab at atmosphere by a DIY band with limited budget and equipment. The flip also contains a couple of amazing speed-pop DIY-rambles. [ Messthetics #104]

86. Contact -Future (Object Music UK 1979) An avantfied klutz by a band who probably wanted to be Tubeway Army one thinks as one gazes upon the sleeve. They move from sloppy pro-rock attempts to full-on art-noise to excellent DIY jingle and jangle. One of many excellent items on the Object label. [ Messthetics #106 and Messthetics #7]

87. Good Missionaries -Deranged in Hastings (Unnormality Records UK 1979) A great stop/start hiccup with the patented GM/ATV tinny guitars and peripheral production. What makes this stand out is that barely concealed aggression, like a slow fuse or something.

88. The Potent Human EP (L'Aventure Records UK 1980) I maintain, and not only because of my middle class lifestyle, that the Bathroom Renovations is the greatest band name in the history of rock. This EP is a four out of four winner. Brilliant DIY fumble from The Mekon (no relation), The Liggers , The Spurtz and the ultra-wah-wah power of the Bathroom Renovations. Let me type that again: Bathroom Renovations. [Liggers: Messthetics #106]

89. Disco Zombies -Here Comes the Buts (Dining Out Records UK 1980) This is my favorite of their three spectacular singles. Thw thuick brogue of an accent blends in a most interesting way with the crappy guitar and dull throb of the melody line or the voluptous Steve Severin-style bass line.

90. Record Players -Double C Side EP (Wreckord Records UK 1978) The Record Players came from Kent, which mustered a bit of a mod scene a couple years later, but otherwise wasn't much of a factor in the punk (or DIY) world. Here they've mustered up an anti-MOR rant with a chorus that comes off kind of, eh, MOR-sounding. Imagine the classic DIY trashing, bashing and gnashing, but with one big ol' chorus, and the most obvious bridge you'll ever hear. "Ignore Us" on the flip is self-defeatist art that'll piss all over any Magnetic Fields as far as smug self-hatred goes. "It's just one thing you gotta do if you want to move along, ignore the music and ignore this song ? Ignore us and we might go away". How about that. [Messthetics #1]

91. Boys and Girls Come Out and Play EP (Boys and Girls Records UK 1980) Might be a grade school project this one, and not an art school project. Bands like the Human Cabbages, The Profile and The Famous Five are very young sounding. The fragile beauty of these tunes remind me of the UK Voice of the People anthologies of field recordings of folk songs. The purity, private nature of the songs and homemade-ness makes for a truly intimate, moving listening experience. The people on this record should be proud of this slice of juvenalia 20-odd years later.[Profile -Messthetics #103 -also a Human Cabbages song]

92. False Idols -Ego Wino (Old Knew Wave Records UK 1980) Paul Morotta's unknown English nephews. This could be a Poli Styrene Jass Band outtake. Great, spazzy DIY with jazzy chording and great, supressed aggression.

93. Bandage -Republik (Bandage Records Sweden 1978) Seems as if the average age of the band members is 16 or so, and that the mere existence of this record points to the purest and most blissfully unaware state of do it yourself: Some kids in a suburb of Stockholm getting turned on by punk rock and the notion of releasing their own record. The four songs are all fuzzed out riff rock, not unlike say, the Crucified EP, but the poor quality of recording, sound separation, levels and what have you is why the record is mentioned on this list. Not that any of that was done on purpose, mind you, for any DIY-ethic of sorts. Necessity and gratification and all that good stuff.

94. 49 Americans -Big Value (NB Records UK 1979) Another hidden Fuck Off Records release? The 49 Americans certainly moved in the same circles, and furthermore share plenty of aesthetic choices with Danny and the Dressmakers or the Instant Automatons. This record consists of 14 short blasts of fuzz punk meets art wank and is absolutely brilliant.

95. Gods Gift -925 (New Market Records UK 1979) Three tuneless tunes of the finest in fuzzed-out death-dirge DIY-slop. Kilslug jamming with the Door and the Window.[Messthetics #106]

96. Mud Hutters -Declaration EP (Defensive Records UK 1979) Mud Hutters ? Information EP (Dead Good Records UK 1979) Truly original band this. Somewhere in a Heartwork Records/Rock In Opposition neighborhood, but with a real Safe As Milk-crunch. There are psych elements on both these records, moments of blistering punk rock, and a generous infusion of the Desperate Bicycles (or Thought Criminals) ethics and esthetics. Fantastic records, and mandatory listening for any fan of the underground music of the late 70's era. Unfortunately, their subsequent album isn't great. By that time the band got Gang of Four damage.[ Messthetics #106: a track from their first EP is on Messthetics Greatest Hits]

97. Horrible Nurds -Consuming Passion (Half Wombat Records UK 1980) Oddly enough, this record sounds a hell of a lot like early Problem (Sweden) on the a-side, with the b-side being Tim Rose backed by ATV in a fantastic art-rock/DIY howler In that lost art form kind of way.

98. Reptile Ranch -Animal Noises EP (Z Block Records UK 1980) Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 (one of the most under-rated bands of the last 15 years says I and ponder an upcoming UT article) are here channeled way before they even were formed by some UK art school kids. Fantastic Beefheart-y R.I.O-hybrid DIY. Passionate, crude and obnoxious, sending this record to the top shelf of any record room! [Messthetics Greatest Hits]

99. Freiwillige Selbstkontrolle - EP (Zick Zack Records Germany 1980) Ace generic DIY/punk that could've been at home on an early Rough Trade 45.

100. The Rutto - Ei Paluuta (Ikbals Records Finland 1983) Figured I'd seal the circle with this one: A record as stupendous as "Medium Was Tedium" and as prominently throwing all the weight of the DIY-aesthetic on us, the listeners. The Rutto seem to be your 1983 run-of-the-mill small town punk rockers, and this 45 is generic, frantic buzzsaw guitar 2-chord punk. The magic with this one, however, is that in between the choca-blocks of teen nihilism is a noticeable sense of wonder and joi de vivre oozing thru' the grooves, or maybe I am just getting old and sentimental. Thanks for reading.

[fangirlinglikealoon]

 I was tagged by @i-like-hockey-a-latte thank you so much! 💕

Name: Miia

Favorite musicians or bands: Ohh damn this is always a hard one 😅 Okay Mokoma and Stam1na for sure but then the rest change. One day I can be blasting JVG, some other day I’m all about Behemoth. But at the moment I’m really into Halsey, Harry Styles, Insomnium, Chromatics, ISÁK, Lxandra and Alan Walker. Some other long-time loves (is that even a word/thing?) in no particular order are Biffy Clyro, Nightwish, The Prodigy, Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, Nine Inch Nails, Devin Townsend, Raised Fist, Wasted, Endstand, Sentenced, HIM, Slipknot... I could go on and on and I can’t just mention Mokoma and Stam1na be done with it 😂

Favorite sports teams: My NHL faves are Chicago Blackhawks and Carolina Hurricanes but I do love the Avs, the Preds, the Stars, the Sharks, the Rangers and the Golden Knights too! My Liiga fave is Kärpät even though they often make me so frustrated but it’s all about things done (or left undone) off the ice. Then of course Leijonat, our national team. Shout-out to Haukiputaan Ahmat too!

Other blogs: I have just this one

Do I get asks: Sometimes yeah and I love it when I get asks! But sometimes it takes a while for me to reply because I rather answer asks from computer instead of the phone app 😅

How many blogs do you follow: 494 :o Wow I think I should go through the blogs I follow because I’m quite certain most of those blogs aren’t active anymore

What am I wearing: A skirt, leggings, t-shirt and my Stam1na hoodie

Dream vacation: I’d love love loooove to travel to Chicago and go see a Hawks game at the United Center and explore the city! A road trip by Route 66 or as close to it as possible would be fun and I also wanna do a road trip through the UK and around Iceland but funny thing is I can’t drive. 😂 But I could read the map! Australia and New Zealand are on the dream vacation list too, and so is Antarctica but I don’t think I’ll ever get to go there and even if given the opportunity I’m not sure if I had the guts to go. But one can dream, right? 

Dream car: It would be a dream to get my Pontiac Bonneville ‘77 back because my parents sold it last summer and I had to agree to it because I didn’t have a place for it or the money to fix all the things that needed to be fixed. Also a Shelby Cobra CSX8000 would be quite nice!

Favorite food: Hamburgers I guess 😂 

Drink of choice: Cranberry juice, lemonade and water. When it comes to alcohol then it’s sour beers or IPAs or then I order something fun and absurd from one of my fave bartenders and he always delivers! If any of you reading this ever end up in Oulu, then go visit Cafe Kuluma and if possible, order a drink from Petri because honestly he’s the best in town! And if he’s not there then order a Rammstein or Tulitorni (tuli = fire and torni = tower) because they do a fire show with these two drinks - google rammstein cafe kuluma or tulitorni cafe kuluma and you find videos of how it looks

Languages: Finnish, English, I understand Swedish but suck at speaking it, few words of German and I can read and maybe even write some French

Random fact: When I was younger I was certain I used to be a vampire in a past life. I even had a dream where I was sleeping in a coffin and somebody pushed a stake through my heart and killed me so I was like “I saw how I died in a past life in a dream!” Nowadays I just love vampires instead of believing I once was one 😂

 I’ll tag @finnishhockeyelf, @my-eindride, @turbofishy, and @mikkorane / @karu-selli 😊