#Izzy Roland is a gift

[shirbird]

I just watched the Adventuring Party while on a public bus at 9:30 pm and let me tell you, that was the wrong decision

[ihavebeesinmybrain]

no offense to mike trapp hes a ch elder and we appreciate him for all he has done but im 10 mins into the first ep of the new season and ify’s version already has wayyyy better vibes. the only ever um actually episode i’ve cheesed at like this before was the reality tv one

[kittyoverlord]

Izzy Roland you are a gift.

[imgilmoregirl]

A Rose of the Forbidden Love

AO3 Link

Notes: Thanks to everyone who read this story until here and thanks for your patiance with my slow updates. We finally have a happy ending! Hope you enjoy it.

Chapter Seventeen

The church was quiet and silent that night. I had been a long while since Rose last set a foot there with a good motivation and she didn’t know exactly what dragged her there after work when she should be hurrying home to see her sweet baby girl. There were still lots of things to be done and discussed and now that Roland’s apartment – their apartment – was finally perfectly furnished, ready for them to move in, she couldn’t wait until they settled everything for their wedding.

Henry and Ella had decided to share the date with them and they were planning a camp ceremony with very few friends and Cristal, her future brother-in-law loyal furry friend entering with a board that said “true love always finds its way” hanging from her neck. They weren’t on a hurry and Rose was glad for that because everything in her life usually happened to fast, so taking things slow was a luxury she was quite enjoying.

She sat on one of the benches, looking up at the cross at the centre of the church without knowing what she should do. Should she thank the Lord for what she had? Cry for what she hasn’t? Should she pray for her family or ask forgiveness for her sins? At this point, Rose had no idea. She sighed, rubbing at her engagement ring and trying to think when she heard steps echoing and glanced at the side corridor, seeing a small, slender figure coming from the shadows.

“Rose,” he father blinked a surprised smile appearing in his lips. “Dearest, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Neither did I,” she answered, following him with her eyes as he took a seat beside her. “Think about coming back to the church?”

Gold shook his head, seeming to be a bit uncomfortable with what he was about to say, he clasped his hands on his lap, eyes focused on the altar, avoiding her glance.

“Actually,” Adam said, carefully, “I was arranging the last details of the wedding with Father Murray.”

“Oh, I forgot about that.”

“I want you to come and so does Belle,” he told her, grasping her thin, cold hand and making Rose look up at him. “I’ll understand if you don’t, but I still want you to.”

She smiled, even against her best will. Rosalie couldn’t put into words how much she loved her father and wanted him to be happy, but he was getting married with her mother and that couldn’t be hardest for her to face. Even after the things Fiona said and the many times Belle tried to apologise, Rose couldn’t still change the things she felt.

“I was thinking yesterday… It is a funny story, right? How everything went perfectly wrong.”

“Aye, I believe so,” Gold agreed with her. “Funny, but tragic.”

A sigh left her. He was gently rubbing her finger between his, occasionally brushing the piece of white gold and peridot she now wore daily. She hadn’t told him about Roland’s proposal, although he already knew about their plans of getting married ever since Ivy’s death.

“She tried to talk to me, many times. Miss French,” Rose felt a bad taste on her mouth to use those words to call Belle, but she couldn’t yet call her a mother. “I wish I could talk to her like I’m doing with you right now but abandoning me wasn’t the only thing she did. I lost my job because of in the moment I most needed it. She made me feel like I wasn’t worth anything.”

“Belle was hurt, Rose. She was bitter, she didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“She didn’t mean to hurt her daughter. If I was just Rosalie Weaver like she thought I was, she wouldn’t even regret it,” Rose snorted and when Gold arched an eyebrow at her words, she felt her shoulder shrink a bit. “Sorry, I know that I’m sounding bitter now.”

With a mere shook of his head, Gold left her hand and cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb against her rosy skin. He had that look on his face again, the one he always wore when he was feeling guilty and wishing that he would change the past.

“You have all the rights to.”

“I lost my faith, father,” she said. “I used to come to the church because I believed in something. The nuns taught me to pray and live by a code, but after everything that happened to me, I didn’t know if there was any God out there that could care for my silly life.”

“Don’t talk like that child,” he reprehended her, assuming the kind of tone he used when he was a priest. Gentle but firm. “I see a ring on your finger, I know you that have the most devoted friends and the most beautiful daughter. You’ve won as much as you’ve lost in the past two years. God doesn’t give us what we can’t take and He traces the most wonderful paths for the most special people.”

She dropped her gaze to the black purse on her lap. Years ago, even as a hopeless child, she would have believed it, but now, she found it a hard to do so, because even though she had things to be grateful for, Rose still felt like life had been too unfair with her.

“I know, I’ve been trying to convince myself of that, lately,” she whispered.

“Forgive your mother, Rose, then you’ll see your saving grace again,” Gold advised. “Bad thoughts kill as much as any decease.”

Sniffling, she nodded and enlaced her arms around him, laying her head on his shoulder and allowing Gold to pull her closer. It was good to feel like a child sometimes, even more if you had a lot of time to make up for.

“Thank you, for having my back, as always.”

“We still need a bridesmaid,” Gold remarked as he kissed the top her head.

A tiny smile spread on Rose’s lips. She wasn’t going to promise anything right now, but she was going to think about it.

Moving had been a whole new trouble Rose didn’t ever want to go through a second time. When she moved from the orphanage to the apartment she shared with Sabine and Jacinda – which was now only Sabine’s – she had very few things to carry, but somehow along the last two years she accumulated a large number of things. She had no idea Izzy herself had so many stuff, but she guessed that people loved to give little gifts to babies, which was why they had to fill two cars with toys.

Neal and Henry had been of great help, but it was still one of the most tiring things she had ever done in her life, even more considering that she freaked out with Roland’s lack of sense for tying a house and made him seat on a corner and watch as she did it all by herself. Rose couldn’t complain much to be clear because she was building she always wanted to have and she could feel sure that her daughter would have the childhood she had always wanted.

It didn’t mean she stopped thinking about her encounter with her father at the church, though. After a whole week living in new home, already used to a nice routine. Rose was making dinner while Roland played with Izzy, thinking about her parent’s wedding until her fiancé’s voice took her out of musings.

“Is she saying something?” He asked aloud, taking an attentive look at their daughter.

Roland was bouncing her up and down, making Izzy giggle and babble some monosyllabic sounds. Her eyes, once almost black were now getting a caramel tone that reminded Rose of Gold’s, her mouth had taken the petal shape hers – and she need to admit Belle’s too – lips had, but her hair, that was now starting to grow had taken the wavy light-brown shade of Roland’s.

“Obviously not, she is a five-month-old.”

“I’m pretty sure that ‘ah ah’ means something.”

“I want food, maybe? I need a diaper changing? I want daddy to stop making silly faces at me?”

“You’re mean.”

Rose rolled her eyes at him, leaving the sauce to boil as she took the baby from his arms and pressed lots of kissed on her cheek. She let herself fall on the couch beside him a she snuggled little Izzy, hearing her lovely giggles and feeling selfish again. Once she thought herself to be nothing but a decent human being for taking care of her child, now as Fiona’s words echoed in the back of her mind, she considered she was mostly lucky.

“Rol, can I ask you something?”

“If this is about Friday night’s dessert, I’m sorry to say that my mother will insist in making apple pie again and nothing can change her mind,” he said, standing up and going to check on their dinner.

“No, it is not about that,” she assured him. “I like Regina’s pie very much.”

“Then what’s up?”

Placing Izzy sat down on her lap, Rose wondered if it was a good idea to have this conversation, but she couldn’t find the peace of mind to stop thinking about the wedding and her father’s pleading eyes to her when he last begged the girl to come and celebrate with them.

“You know my parents are getting married on Sunday, right?”

“Belle send us an invitation,” Roland answered arching an eyebrow at her as he poured the sauce above the pasta she left ready to go. “I told you three weeks ago.”

“Did you? Well, anyway, do you think I should go?”

Roland went back to where she was, touching her face and offering Rose a tender smile.

“I think you should do what your hearts tells you to. I don’t want you to regret not going or appearing at the church and not feeling comfortable at all,” he said. “But I also think you should know that if you don’t give your mother a chance, maybe at some point she will stop trying for a reconciliation.”

“I know,” she murmured, avoiding Roland’s glance, knowing that he was right and not wanting to give in.

Izzy made a loud wail, pulling at her hair, begging for attention and Rose stood up rocking her gently and untightening the grip of her small fingers around her curls. Roland offered to take the baby from her again, taking one of her favourite comforters from the toy box to help Izzy calm down, until she was softly sucking at her own thumb again.

“I spoke to Alice today,” Roland told Rose, winking at her as he added: “The bridesmaids are wearing blue.”

It wasn’t until the very last minute that Rose dragged Neal into shopping. He was the only one who had seen the exact shade of blue Belle had chosen for her bridesmaids and the only one who would keep his mouth shut if she decided not to appear after all. She bought and off-the-shoulder dress in a delicate, fancy fabric, one of the kind the Hooded Beauty would produce, but certainly not one so pricey.

Jacinda was the one to style up her hair, while Sabine did her make-up with the perfection of talented hands. All three of them went to the wedding without telling a word to anyone, although Rose was pretty sure Roland had confirmed their presence to his mother, who as one of Belle’s best friends, would certainly be there.

She was nervous. Extremely nervous. Rose had rejected Belle many, many times and most of her remembrances of their time together were of her mother being cruel and bitter to her. She felt afraid of being rejected herself, in front of everyone, just like the day Belle fired her after catching her making out with Roland. It had been a dreadful and Rose wasn’t willing to repeat it, but she wasn’t doing this just for herself or for Belle, but for her father too and he was more than worth the risk.

When Rose reached the front of the church after giving Roland and Izzy a kiss of goodbye, she found Alice waiting in there too with a similar dress, her hair carefully pinned to one side of her head, adorned by a white gold and sapphire piece of jewellery

“I knew you would come,” the blonde squealed when she saw her, throwing her arms around Rose’s tiny and thin frame.

“Did you?”

“We both knew,” Gideon answered, approaching them with the most handsome smile on his lips. “Welcome home, sis.”

“Thank you, both of you.”

Alice pulled away from her and Gideon offered an arm to both his sisters, taking them in and walking them down the aisle to the place where the bridesmaids were supposed to sit, but they were stopped by Gold’s surprised gasp, his watery eyes focused on them.

“You came,” he said, stupefied.

“Of course, I did,” Rose answered. “I like witnessing happy endings and after all the painful journey needs a reward, right? Because God chooses wonderful paths for special people.”

“Aye.”

There were tears in Rose’s eyes now too, the happiness clear in her father’s expression enough to make her heart seem about to burst with happiness. He was right all along and she only noticed how true his words were now that she was here.

“Expect me to call you my dad from now on,” Alice interfered with a wink, poking Gold with the bouquet she was holding.

A chuckle left Rose as she sat down on the bench beside Alice – well, her sister – barely believing that she was really there. She could feel Gideon’s heavy hands on their shoulders and watch as Gold’s expression changed and he seemed to hold onto a breath when the church’s doors were opened again to allow Belle French in.

She looked stunning on one of the most beautiful wedding gowns she had ever seen in her life. It was white, but the tulle above it had small gold glittery flickers that gave the impression that she was a shining star. No resentment could ever prevent Rose from admitting now that she was one of the most stunning women she had ever seen.

“You look beautiful,” Gold whispered.

“You don’t look bad too,” Belle teased, before she caught a sight of her daughter sat on the corner beside Alice. “Rose.”

“Hey, mother.”

Father Murray – the church’s new priest - looked between the two of them and so did everybody in there. Rosalie was lucky she wasn’t a shy person otherwise she would already be wishing to disappeared.

“You know, we can’t continue with this wedding if we don’t have an emotional hug first,” the priest said.

In that moment, with his permission of taking a moment before starting the ceremony, Belle approached Rose, blinking away some tears and trying to decide if she was dreaming or not.

“Why are you here?”

“It was time to flip up the page,” the girl shrugged. “I’m sorry for everything I said. I can forget the past.”

Rose opened her arms for her and Belle took a step into them, hugging her daughter for the very first time ever since she left her as a baby at the doorstep of an unknown person and it felt like a new beginning. Gold joined the hug, pulling the two of them into his on arms and Rose could hear Gideon and Alice sniffling, full of emotion, at the scene.

“I love you two,” Gold murmured, kissing both of their cheeks.

Rose smiled at them and for the first time, she felt home.

“Go get married you two.”

They laughed, shed some tears and exchanged the most beautiful votes she had ever heard. That night Rosalie Weaver understood what it was like to have a family and to feel love, she learned the power of forgiveness and promised herself to whatever she did in her life, she wouldn’t forget her father’s most valuable advice. The rockiest paths were made for the toughest people.

[quiet-fury]

Izzy stepped forward with the little gift bag that contained her gift. She held it up with a proud smile; “I got something for Izzy mama!” She announced then handed Ash the bag.

Roland furrowed his brows as did Jeremy. It was Jery who spoke up; “Are you really gointto have another girl?” He asked. “Is it too late to trade for a boy?”

What Happens in Vegas…

[fiadorable]

Hope of Morning: Mother’s Day (Flash Forward) | Modern OQ AU

Previous chapters aka how to find out what the hell is going on.

We’re going to flash forward about eight or nineish months for a Mother’s Day fic. Also, fair warning, Regina likes to swear to blow off steam, so if that’s not your thing, then this isn’t your fic. Enjoy, peeps, and call your mom.

Sundays aren’t supposed to be this difficult.

Regina adjusts the volume on the small, cylindrical speakers to the right of her console and bites her lower lip as she tries to decipher the officer’s last transmission.

Traffic that’s garbled or muffled as it enters the single earpiece on her headset tends to magically clear up when played back on a higher quality speaker. But not always. Sometimes her officers are simply marble-eating mumble-mouths. Like this one.

"Goddamn motherfucking shit ass unit. Take your beat partner's dick out of your mouth and then speak on the radio." Regina sighs, hard, and stomps on her foot pedal to open the channel. "4311, readvise your location," she broadcasts, pitching her voice higher to compensate for the mocking frustration leaking through her delivery.

The unit keys up, speaking slower, if not more clearly, but it's enough for her to piece together his cross street and get his traffic stop entered into the computer. She slumps back in her chair, then kicks away from her console to stand and stretch her lower back. Two hours into shift and she can already feel her blood pressure flushing the tips of her ears.

"Regina, take a break. I got your radio," her supervisor yells from the front of the room. "We've got observers in the lobby. I need you to bring them up."

Great. Why the hell are there observers on a Sunday night? And on Mother's Day, no less. Sundays aren't known for the balls to the wall, crazy, careening call volume or types they see on Fridays and Saturdays or during the full moon; Sunday is typically the most boring, and longest, shift of the week.

Regina pulls her headset off, wincing as the edge catches a length of hair and tugs it free of the bun she'd thrown up haphazardly after shift meeting, and then hangs the metal headband from the long arm of her desk lamp. She pats her pocket to ensure she has her card key to get back into the center, shoving her chair out of the way with her foot as she exits her pod.

"However did you guess I needed a break, Granny?" she asks as she strolls past the supervisors' desks, in no particular hurry.

The silver-haired lead supervisor raises her eyebrows over her square spectacles. "I think the deputy chiefs heard your last outburst all the way downtown.”

“Oh, come on. You know no one higher than a lieutenant reports for duty on a weekend.”

“Regardless, I don't feel like doing more paperwork on you this month. Now scoot! I hate these arrogant, east-side pups."

Regina grins, flashing a fair share of teeth, and taps the metal divider sectioning off the supervisors’ stations with her fingernails. "Enjoy, Eugenia."

She breezes past the elevator, too antsy and worked up to from the stupidity of her officers and the public to stand still, to wait for the lumbering machine to climb from the basement to the fourth floor. And then there’s the soft, hollowing ache in her chest, the one that flares up whenever she finds a moment to breathe between emergencies and mind-numbing, predictable unpredictableness of her job. The one that’s missing her boys on this “holiday” of sorts. Henry’s been with Roland and Emma all day, and she hadn't seen any of them, including her boyfriend, since yesterday afternoon what with Robin working day shifts this weekend. They'll have dinner together tomorrow night. Celebrate a Mother’s Day a day late as they always do when she works a holiday. Doesn't stop the ache, though.

She throws her shoulder against the stairwell door, holding onto the handle for a few seconds to warm her fingers. The metal is always warm to the touch from the keycard access locks. The dispatch center is locked down 24/7, beige squares planted four feet off the ground guarding the stairwell doors and the inside of the elevator like electronic sentries awaiting the tap of a microchipped card with proper authorization.

Three flights of stairs later, she pushes out to the side of the lobby, checking her cell phone for any text messages or calls she may have missed from her family once her reception goes back up to two bars.

Nothing. Just a silly picture splayed across her lock screen, one of Henry, Robin, and Roland cheesing for the camera on New Year’s Eve with bright, glittery paper hats and purple noisemakers hanging out of each of their mouths.

An irrational, white hot tingling sweeps through her sinuses, clouding her vision for a moment. Not a big deal, she tells herself. Goddamn professional, remember?

She squares her shoulders and sniffs once, hard, and arranges a polite smile on her face as she walks into the lobby proper. She falters as she fails to see anyone waiting by the main doors. Only a family crowded around the display of all the different state and local emergency services patches encased in glass on the wall.

The door closes behind her, and the family turns around. Her breath catches in her throat as the older boy cries, "Mom!"

It's her family.

Henry runs to her, arms sliding around her middle and head slamming into her chest as he squeezes tight. She oofs softly as she stumbles back a few steps, but suddenly she can't stop smiling, the frustration soothed away by her son and her boyfriend's unexpected presence. "What are you guys doing here?" she asks.

"You didn't think we'd let you go all day without acknowledging the auspiciousness of the occasion did you?" Robin says, one hand gripping Roland's as the other balances a large orange Tupperware container between his wrist and hip.

"What's that mean?" Henry asks, pulling away slightly to throw a bewildered look at Robin.

"It means it's Mother's Day and we have a surprise."

"Cupcakes!" Roland says, jumping up and down, his light up sneakers flashing red sparkles across the faded linoleum.

"We brought enough for your whole shift, Mom."

Regina tugs Henry closer and plants a quick kiss on his forehead before he can squirm away. "Thank you, sweetheart." She looks up and smiles at Robin and Roland. "All of you sweethearts."

She buzzes them through the detectives’ lobby, allows Roland to press the button to call the elevator and then offers Henry her keycard to grant them access to the fourth floor, and takes the twenty seconds of groaning and shuddering provided by the infernal contraption to lean into Robin’s side, tucking their boys between them. For the first time all day, a gentle calm melts into her skin.

If she could keep them with her all night she would. She can’t, of course. There are bedtimes already being pushed back for this outing, baths that will be skipped in favor of showers in the morning, and only one story before bed instead of the customary two, okay, three that spill out on a normal night before the lights are turned down.

But for now, she’ll enjoy this, enjoy them. Laugh as Henry and Roland walk down the rows of pods, handing out homemade cupcakes with the same messy enthusiasm that went into baking them. Relish the warm hand Robin rubs up and down her spine as they make small talk with her podmate Izzy. And later, shiver as he presses her against the trunk of the car, the boys buckled in and already nodding off, and whispers, Your Mother’s Day gift from me will be waiting on your pillow when you get home, love.

This shift can’t end fast enough.

Three hours down. Nine to go.

But now she’s got a small clutch of squat cupcakes sitting on a red cocktail napkin by her keyboards along with a handmade card implying they’ve saved the most bestest, most perfectest ones for her. Somehow, she thinks, she’ll make it through alright.

[scarred-by-monsters]

Izzy smiled brightly, and when they finally reached the gift shop; sue bolted over to the stuffed animals.

Roland and Jeremy wandered over to the flowere display, looking at the bouquets.

What Happens in Vegas…