#because it seems every time a family member reaches 18 something awful happens

[turtleblogatlast]

I like to think alternate Leo was about 17 when he got ricocheted into the universe. I also like to think he turned 18 at some point as he was still away, becoming an adult and meeting that milestone in his life all alone.

[foodieforthoughts]

Sand and Stars - Chapter Nine

Series Summary: After the water pump being blown up, the insurgents in Baqubah are taking a hold of the food supply to the village. Camp Warhorse is in dire need of reinforcements. It has been eight months of submitting countless requests when the High Command commissions Sergeant Olivia Ross to take her group of men and women and help Captain Syverson and his team to restore a semblance of normalcy. But with the war raging, does it get two hearts closer too?

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC x OMC

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: 18+, implied smut, angst, foul language, mentions of war, military technicalities

A/N: I had been struggling to write this chapter for so long, being at a loss of words, even if I have the entire plot figured out. But a quick chat with @agniavateira​ finally gave me a boost. So thank you honey. And obviously a huge thank you to my favorite, my girl, @thelastsock​ for patiently beta-reading it. I am forever grateful to you, sweety.

Also, it is kind of like a filler chapter really, but everyone is at Camp Warhorse and the temperatures are soaring high!

<Chapter Eight

Title: Chapter Nine

Liv could feel her heart race and her pulse echo in her ears. Her hands were beginning to sweat inside the gloves, and she knew for a fact it wasn’t because of the summer heat that had descended upon the arid desert of Iraq. She glanced at Sloan who puffed her cheeks before taking quick steps backwards and running back to where she came from.

Taking a deep ragged breath, Liv slung her gun over her shoulder and removed her helmet, holding it in the crook of her arm as she walked towards the two men. Alex looked completely different than the last time she had spent time with him. He had his sunglasses on, camouflage cap perched on his head and his jaw covered with a clean cut beard. Even with the uncharacteristic facial hair Alex had going on, he walked with the arrogance of the decorated military officer that he was. Next to him, Sy looked rugged and even though he was in his military sanctioned t-shirt and camo pants, there was a distinguishing difference between the two Captains.

“Sergeant Ross.” Alex called out, taking off his sunglasses. He smiled at her staying put in his spot but scrutinized her with a glance from head to toe. Putting his hands behind his back, Alex stood straight, exuding the kind of dominance he always did in public. “Captain Syverson was telling me about how great a help your unit has been around here.”

Liv felt her mouth go dry as she looked at a grinning Sy with his hands placed low on his hips. He was looking at her proudly, puffing out his chest just a little bit. But Liv couldn’t bask in his admiration because the thought of the two men discussing about her made her stomach twist with nervousness.

“Sy is too kind.”

She did not miss the surprise in Alex’s eyes when the words left her mouth. She felt the anxious sweat return, beads of sweat trickling down her back now. Awkwardly adjusting her gun strap over her shoulder, she waited until either of them spoke.

“Sy?” Alex asked, crossing his arms over his chest. His stance showed how he was not in approval of a junior rank calling a senior officer informally. Liv was beginning to remember why she felt smothered around Alex, it was his overly decorous and overbearing nature that had made her realize she could never be with a person like him.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between the three of them. Liv noted how her unit members working on carrying the ammunition from the Humvees were throwing glances their way. It was humiliating for her to be meeting both of her partners out in the open, in front of everyone where she couldn’t hide the uneasiness.

“They call me that.” Sy intervened and Liv couldn’t have been more thankful. His grin had disappeared though, replaced with a tight-lipped gritting of his teeth. She could see the muscle in his jaw clenching and his eyes boring into hers. Without glancing at the man standing next to him, Sy took a step forward. Liv’s heart thumped against her chest as she expected Sy to do something to assert his claim on her but let out a sigh of relief as he only reached inside his pocket and pulled out her chain.

She was immensely relieved when Sy only whispered, “You forgot this.” Before handing her the chain in her palm. She nodded at him while smiling weakly. He seemed to be observing her too, looking at her with slightly narrowed eyes. Clearing his throat, Alex pulled their attention towards him. Liv quickly pocketed the chain, careful to not let Alex see it and looked at the newly arrived captain.

“Can I speak to you in private, Sergeant?” He asked, uncrossing his arms and putting his hands inside his pockets. He waited until she replied, glancing at her and Sy before turning around and walking towards the housing building.

Liv almost did not want to follow him. She wanted to stay there with Sy, maybe take him to the roof and go back to the time when they sat there drinking chai. Balling her hands into fists at the unfavorable circumstances she had been thrown into, Liv only touched Sy on his arm before walking towards the man who was the worst mistake of her life.

Placing her gun on the floor to rest against the wall, Liv started to search for Alex when she felt her body being turned around and slammed against the wall. Air left her lungs at the force and her senses went on high alert, her hands ready to get a hold of the person’s neck when she noticed who it was. Alex had pressed his entire body against hers, every contour of her frame touching his.

“Alex,” his name barely left her lips before she was rendered speechless as his lips came down on hers. Grabbing at her hair and winding his arm around her waist, Alex deepened the kiss with his lips parting and his tongue darting inside her mouth. She was aware of the empty corridor with footsteps sounding only a few feet away, but the familiarity of his body against her, the taste of his lips and the tight grasp of his hand in her hair made her close her eyes. She relaxed in his arms, letting him ravage her mouth. Her eyes snapped open, her hand had slid into his hair but instead of the buzzcut she'd come to love, she felt soft length between her fingers.

Disgusted with herself and her wrongdoing, Liv turned her face to the side. Bringing her hands to his chest, she pushed Alex away, panting to catch her breath. Alex staggered backwards and hurt instantly flashed in his green orbs, making its way to her own heart. She couldn’t meet his eyes for the last time she had tried to break things off, her guilt had caught up to her and she couldn’t do it.

“Liv,” Alex whispered, beginning to take a step forward when two heavy footsteps came running their way. Looking towards the open doorway, Liv spotted two of her men running towards them.

“A team was attacked, they just arrived. Captain Syverson told me to get you both to his office.”

Quickly nodding at her men, Liv picked up her gun from the floor. She adjusted her fatigues, her cheeks heating under Alex’s gaze. She needed to address their situation, but it had to wait. She looked over her shoulder at him and felt remorse creeping its way into her gut again as he stared at her appalled.

***

Sy stood at the entrance of the building with the cup of coffee in his hand. He sipped the steaming liquid as he scanned the compound as several units prepared to leave for their patrols around the village. They had increased the security around the camp since last week’s attack on their men. Luckily, no one was severely injured, but it had been a huge blow for Liv’s confidence.

Sy had watched as she had entered his office fuming with anger. He had anticipated she would be upset since the person at the head of the attacking group of militants was the insider, she'd believed was on their side. He had tried to assure her no one held her accountable for the attack, but he knew her plenty by now. He knew she would berate herself about it and go back into her shell of self-loathing.

And she had done exactly that.

Sy licked his lips, gulping down the bitter shot of caffeine as he spotted Liv with her unit. She was helping her corporal load up the box of ammunition and instructing them. He admired her dedication to her work immensely, but on the other hand he also wanted her to just let herself go once in a while.

His eyes narrowed as he observed Alex making his way towards her. He had decided from the very moment he met the captain, that he did not like him. Sy had read about him; born and brought up in a family of army officers, gone to private school and having arrogant pricks as his relatives, Alex was the kind of army man Sy despised. He had noticed the way Alex tried to ascertain control over Liv or his subordinates, very subtly hinting at things that he wanted to happen his way.

But those weren’t the only things that he disliked about the new Captain. Sy hated the fact that while Liv was maintaining her distance from him, she was spending an awful lot of time with Alex.

It wasn’t happening in an obvious kind of way, but since Sy could hardly ever keep his eyes off of the woman he loved, he would spot the two of them together up and around the compound. When they spoke, he noted how Liv’s body was stiff, but she spoke effortlessly. He would feel the muscles in his arms twitch when Alex would place his hand on her arm, and she would lean into his touch. He had gathered from a few of Alex’s men that Liv and Alex had been friends for a really long time.

Sy felt the bubbling of an emotion, which had no other word than being called jealousy, as he watched the two interact. He gripped his cup tightly as he watched Alex place his hand over her shoulder, a minute too long for Sy’s liking. He detested how Liv did not shrug away from Alex’s touch and every time Sy spotted them together like that, all he wanted to do was throw his arm around Liv and blatantly claim in front of everyone that she was his.

He took in a deep breath when Alex started walking towards him. Widening his stance and crossing his arms over his chest, Sy stood with confidence as the other captain made his way to him. He saw Liv looking at them from her place near the Humvees. They had a long eye contact with straight faces until Liv turned around to get inside the vehicle.

“Good day there Sy?” Alex stood next to him with his hands inside his pockets. Sy regarded him with a half-hearted smile before his eyes fell to the silver chain tangled up with the man's dog tags.

“That chain?” Sy pointed at the glinting medal laying on Alex’s chest. “That’s-”

“Saint Christopher. A gift from my mother to keep me safe.” He answered, his voice gruff from the early morning.

Sy narrowed his eyes, trying to study the make of the medal without being too obvious. He felt a pit in his belly as a realization dawned on him. “Liv has one too.” He meant to say it to himself, but unknowingly murmured the words out loud.

Alex chuckled, swiping his hand through his neatly combed hair. Squaring his shoulders and turning slightly to face Sy, Alex spoke. “I gave it to her. Don’t want anything to be happening to her.”

Sy felt his mouth go dry. He smiled at Alex but his mind was racing with all this new information. He couldn’t understand why when he already knew they were friends, Sy felt himself becoming irate. He couldn’t differentiate if he was angry about them being close or the sinking gut feeling he had that something was going on behind his back.

Sy couldn’t shrug the feeling off. All he could do the whole day was look at his watch and wait for anyone to come announce at his door that Liv was back to the camp.He had to talk to Liv about it, he needed the peace of mind. His thoughts were swirling about Liv and Alex, bordering on overthinking about every little detail about her life she had told him. He couldn’t concentrate on his work and he had stared at the piece of paper in his hand for far too long. Irritated at himself, Sy threw his cap on the table and rubbed his hand over his face.

He looked up when he felt a presence at the door and as if he conjured her, delight filled his chest as spotted Liv. Sy didn't waste any time in covering the short distance between them, pulling at her arm and closing the door in one swift move. Sy held her neck, tilting her face to capture her lips with his. He felt her melt in his arms, bringing her hands to rest on his shoulders while he nudged her lips open with the tip of his tongue. Their tongues danced, interrupted only as she moaned into the kiss, grasping at his t-shirt until the fabric was taut across his shoulders. Gasping for air, Sy parted from the kiss, resting his forehead against hers.

“I’ve missed you.” He shakily professed, pecking the tip of her nose.

“I’ve missed you too, Sy.” She breathed out, smiling at him and rubbing the nape of his neck. “Listen, can you come to the roof tonight? I really need to talk to you.”

Sy felt an unknown dread envelop him. He knew those words never meant anything good. He looked her in the eye, trying to understand what she meant, but seeing nothing but silent pleas. Taking her lips in his one more time and he savoured every moment, before he let go of her.

And then she was gone, leaving his office feeling weirdly empty.

***

Liv chewed on her bottom lip as she looked out towards the vast expanse of the desert. There was a lot more chatter in the compound with the new people arriving. She waited for the lights to turn out, for midnight to roll in and finally meet Sy in their safe haven.

She had taken a week to realize what she felt for the man. Scared to address it, maybe she would have taken even longer if it weren’t for Alex. For when he had kissed her that day, she had finally realised the difference in her feelings. But she had remained quiet, distanced herself a little from Sy, to understand what she really wanted.

Liv felt a pleasant warmth in her chest about how much she loved the stupid captain she had stumbled upon in the desert.

Lost in her thoughts, smiling to herself as she thought about Sy, Liv did not notice the person standing behind her. The warmth of their breath caressed her neck as they leaned in and wound their arms around her body. Letting out a sigh, Liv felt herself leaning against the hardness of his chest, wrapping her arms over his and closing her eyes.

“Sy,” She whispered expecting to be turned around but instead she felt him go stiff. Her eyes flew open as their arms dropped from her waist and she noticed the faint smell of the cologne that she recognized belonged to someone who wasn’t Sy.

Turning around swiftly, Liv felt the blood drain from her face when she came face to face with an astounded Alex. He stared at her with knitted eyebrows, his mouth slightly open and his figure looming over her. She took a step back from him, feeling her heart race and her cheeks heat under his accusing glare.

“Did you just call me, Sy?” He said through gritted teeth. The veins in his neck strained as he took a step forward. “What is going on between you and Syverson?”

“Alex, what are you doing here?” Liv asked meekly, feeling miniscule in front of him.

“Answer me.” He demanded, his eyes blazing even under the faint glow of the moonlight. “Are you fucking him? Is that what you’ve been doing here?”

Liv’s feet touched the low wall as Alex made her cower away from him. Coming to stand extremely close to her, Alex towered over his Sergeant. She could see how his eyes bore into hers, anger flaming in his orbs. She felt herself jump when he caught a hold of her arms, gripping them tightly.

“Alex,” she pleaded, feeling the spasming pain as his infuriated grasp increased in pressure.

“You said you loved me.”

Tears were beginning to brim in her eyes under the pain. She had seen Alex angry before, but this was different. It felt like he was overtaken by a mad man as he clenched her tightly.

“You’re hurting me, Alex.” She couldn’t help but let out a whimper, pursing her lips to stop from crying out.

“You said you loved me.” He repeated again with fervor.

“I never said I loved you.” She spat out, trying to free herself from him. “I never loved you, Alex. I am not fucking Sy, I love him.” She wrapped her arms around herself as Alex let go of her. She rubbed the sore spots on her arms as she tried to breathe through her pain. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she sat down on the ledge, looking at Alex who stood stunned.

“I should have told you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She tried to apologize but Alex looked at her like they meant nothing but mere words.

Balling his hands into fists and gritting his teeth, Alex huffed angrily before turning on his heels and walking away. Liv grimaced when he pulled the worn-out door open, it rattled against the hinges and rebounded with a bang when he threw it open against the wall. This is what she had feared. Liv had not only intentionally hurt someone, but she had also lost a friend.

🌟 Series Masterlist 🌟

Chapter Ten>

[childrenofthenightt]

That’s The Way (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 3.7k

Warning(s): smut/nsfw, cheating, cursing, angst, Y/N being a badass :)

Author’s notes: We’ll be honest...this chapter is a lot to handle 😂 which is amazing since it’s only Chapter 3 of many! We suggest taking a break throughout, because you’re gonna need it 😂 So much happens that your mind may actually explode from the drama. By the way, Jimmy is introduced in the next chapter so yay! As usual, please enjoy, happy reading, and send us messages if you have theories, comments, music recommendations for the playlist, or if you want to be added to the tag list :)

Chapters: 1 | 2

————

Paul took Y/N out to dinner that week, and they had a wonderful time together. It seemed that every conversation they had together brought them closer and closer, and Y/N was in pure bliss. From that point forward, the two became inseparable.

Y/N’s parents, however, were not super pleased that Y/N was seeing Paul, especially because they had warned her about the romantically-unattached musician’s mannerisms and habits not that long ago. They just decided to act like they liked Paul, so he wouldn’t get suspicious or feel bad.

Two members of The Yardbirds in particular (and I’m sure, dear reader, that you know who they are by now) were hit with pangs of jealousy whenever they saw Y/N constantly attached to Paul’s arm. And, to make matters worse, it was under any circumstance imaginable: parties, interviews, photoshoots, meetings, airports, train stations, hotels...the list goes on. Yes, they did spend plenty of time apart, but attraction can make a man think irrationally. Even though they were specifically and strictly told to keep their mouths shut, it was very tempting to just say the truth and end their misery. A part of Chris and Jim felt happy to see her happy, but another, traitorous side of them felt exponentially bad for her. They knew that she was being used by Paul as arm-candy, and they knew that she, of all people, did not deserve that.

But that’s the name of the game, unfortunately.

~~~~~~~~

18 February 1966

The Yardbirds were scheduled to perform on an episode of Ready, Steady, Go! that night, and Y/N decided to go and be a part of the live audience. She felt an obligation to support Paul and the band, since they were all friends (and a boyfriend, of course) now.

Before the show, Jim, Jeff, and Keith were all sitting on the stage, discussing the logistics of the rehearsals that would start soon. Y/N stood in front of the already-prepared stage and chatted with them.

“So what are you guys going to do on our days off next week?” Jeff asked.

“Spend time with my family,” Keith replied, adjusting his sunglasses.

“Not sure yet, haven’t figured it out,” Jim added.

“How ‘bout you, Miss Y/N?” Jeff nodded towards her with a smile. She answered with a soft giggle.

“I’m probably going golfing with my brother and a couple mates.”

“You golf?” Jim asked. She seemed to be getting more and more perfect by the day.

“Mmhmm,” Y/N nodded enthusiastically, “I’m bloody awful at it, but it’s fun, and I can hang out with my brother, so it’s a win-win.”

“You never told us you had siblings,” Keith smirked, tilting to the side and crossing his arms.

“Oh yeah, I have three. There’s Tommy, my older brother; Charlie, my younger brother; and Lillian, my little sister,” Y/N said.

“Wow, full house,” Jeff remarked, “I have a sister, Annetta, who I think you’d get along with quite well. I’ll have to introduce you to her soon.”

“Oh, that’d be great! I’d love to meet another Beck,” Y/N replied playfully. Jeff just laughed and shook his head.

“It’s a shame that I can’t spend time with Paul this week. He said he was busy, but he didn’t explain why,” Y/N sighed, “whatever. It’s probably legitimate, so I don’t mind. We’ve been hanging out too much anyway.” She laughed at the last part.

“He’s probably just going home to his wife,” Jim replied, thoughtlessly.

At that instant, everyone’s eyes widened, eyebrows raised, and lips downturned into a shocked, panicked frown.

“He’s...what?” Y/N asked quietly, sounding like she was about to shatter into a thousand tiny pieces.

Y/N noticed that Keith and Jeff were glaring at Jim, who was clearly embarrassed at what he had revealed. He hid his eyes with his hand.

When Jeff finally found it in him to turn away from Jim, he deeply exhaled. He then reached out his hands to touch Y/N’s shoulders in an attempt to comfort her.

“Look, Y/N, you weren’t supposed to find out this way, and I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you sooner,” Jeff began, “but he is indeed married. I honestly don’t know why he wanted to pursue you, and I warned him against it because of how much we care about you, but he did it anyway.”

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face and her bottom lip started to quiver. “I can’t believe this,” she whispered, “he made it seem like I was the only one…that he was really in love with me...”

Jeff hated seeing his friend cry because of something he could have prevented. But, Y/N was somehow still beautiful when she cried.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Jeff consoled gently, getting off the stage to hug her, “here, let’s take you backstage to calm you down a little.”

Y/N refused Jeff’s kind offer with a shake of the head. Through her blurry, teary-eyed vision, she just plastered on a smile, and wiped the wetness from her eyes.

“Ew,” her voice cracked, “why am I crying? That’s so gross of me, I’m so sorry. I’m definitely making you guys uncomfortable.”

The three musicians’ eyes widened at Y/N’s sudden burst of emotional strength.

“Y/N, you just found out you were Sam’s side chick, and you don’t care?” Jeff inquired, genuinely confused as to what was going on with Y/N’s emotions.

“It’s okay to be sad, love. And utterly fuming with anger. I must admit, this situation wouldn’t be as dire if it were someone else, but it’s you,” Keith added. Jim just sat in silence. He didn’t know what to say. His message destroyed Y/N’s heart and her innocence.

“I am sad, but if this ‘thing’ went on any longer, I’d probably be even more devastated. You saved me from a lot more unnecessary heartbreak, so thank you, Jim,” Y/N said. Her tone sounded completely numb.

“How are you gonna tell Sam?” Keith asked Y/N.

She exhaled deeply. “I don’t know. It wouldn’t be fair of me to lash out on him before being on national television.”

“How can you care about fairness? Don’t you realize what this man has done to you?” Jeff asked, anger interlaced in his voice.

“Yes, Jeff. I do,” Y/N replied stoically, “And I’ll be fine, really. Let’s just forget about it, okay? I’m just lucky to be here, watching you perform. What song are you playing again?” Y/N tried to change the subject, but on the inside she was in deep agony and pain. She poured all of this time and emotion and her body into this cute musician boy, just to realize she didn’t matter.

“‘Shapes of Thi—’” Keith began quietly.

Jeff cut him off. “Y/N, I seriously refuse to believe you’re okay. Please, just let me help y—” he started.

“Jeff! I’m fine! Seriously,” Y/N raised her voice a little, annoyed at the nagging.

“But you seem—” Jim began, barely perceptible.

“Oh my God, Jim, I’m fine!” Y/N shouted. “I don’t care. It’s done, it’s over.”

The three men sat in silence after Y/N’s sudden outburst of anger, which was very out of character for her. She quickly realized what she had done.

“I’m so sorry for lashing out on you guys. That was uncalled for, it’s not your fault. I’m gonna go to the loo, excuse me,” she said quickly, walking out of the scene before anyone could call after her.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N stayed in the bathroom for all of rehearsals, and she finally reemerged right before the broadcast was about to start, looking as fresh as she did when she got there. It was as if the news was never even brought to her attention.

She refused to make eye contact with Paul through the entire performance, even though it was apparent that he tried to get her attention with his eyes. Chris was just confused that she wouldn’t even dare to glance at Paul. Just a little trouble in paradise that he didn’t know about maybe?

After the show and when the band went offstage, Jeff went back into the crowd to check on Y/N and brought her backstage.

“You have to confront him,” Jeff pleaded.

“I don’t want to,” Y/N whined.

“You have to, or else he’ll bloody win! You don’t want that, and I sure as hell don’t want that for you either! He is the one at fault. You have every right to fuck him up for it.”

Jeff’s little speech gave her an impulsive boost of confidence.

“Fine. I’ll do it. Get everyone out of the room, though,” Y/N stated firmly, beginning to march down the hallway behind Jeff.

Momentarily, Jeff went into the room and rounded up Keith, Jim, and Chris, and filed them down the hallway into another room orderly.

As Y/N was about to enter the room, Jeff whispered in her ear, “Good luck, kid. Knock ‘em dead.” Y/N smiled at Jeff before entering the room and closing the door behind her.

~~~~~~~~

Paul warmly smiled at Y/N as she entered the room.

“Hello, love,” he said gently, “how did you enjoy the show?”

Y/N painted on the most genuine smile she could force. “It was...almost perfect.”

Paul’s eyebrow quirked as he smiled in a confused way. “Why almost?”

“I don’t think rehearsals went as well as I had planned,” Y/N replied smoothly.

“Why? Did something bad happen to you? You’re speaking in riddles, dear.”

“Oh, I apologize,” Y/N snickered, “it’s actually so funny that you bring up riddles, because that seemed to be the exact problem at hand.”

“What does that mean? Did someone tell you something you couldn’t figure out?” Paul chuckled, “You’re confusing me.”

“I figured out that you would be going home to your wife next week.”

All the colour from Paul’s face was drained in a millisecond, and his originally jovial expression was gone. It was as if someone punched him in the gut.

“Who...who told you?” he asked, panicked.

Y/N was taken aback. “I find out I’m your side-chick and you have the audacity to ask who told me? Not an ‘I’m so sorry that I lied to you and broke your heart, Y/N’?”

Paul huffed. “And you expect me to just keep my composure when someone of your gravity walks into the room for the first time? I really am sorry, Y/N, I truly, truly am, but—”

Y/N’s calm and quiet demeanor had left the building at that point. She was mad. Really mad.

“But what? You tell me how in love you are with me, and how I’m your one and only forever, just to realize that I didn’t matter? I’m going to be eighteen years old in March. Eighteen. What do I know about love? Nothing, absolutely nothing. And you chose to take full advantage of my emotional vulnerability.”

“But you did matter. You’re so special to me, Y/N. Don’t you understand that?”

“Don’t you understand that you have a wife? You never loved me. I was never special to you. I was just another fling. But you won’t admit it to yourself.”

“The life of a travelling musician is extremely difficult, Y/N, and you don’t get that,” Paul said severely.

“And that shouldn’t be used as an excuse. You know what? We’re done. Whatever this ‘thing’ is, is over. I wish you the best,” Y/N concluded as she walked out the door and sternly shut it.

The nightmare was over and Y/N was a free agent.

Before she could debrief about her experience with any of the other Yardbirds, Y/N left the venue, caught the first taxi home, ran up into her room, and cried herself to sleep.

~~~~~~~~

22 April 1966

Y/N found recovery time and solace in those two months without Paul. She didn’t go to any Yardbirds gigs, but she sporadically met up with Jeff, Keith, Jim, and Chris at a pub or restaurant to catch up over a meal and drinks. Chris had recently mentioned to her that they were playing in London on the 22nd, and if she felt comfortable, she could attend for free and get backstage to hang out.

Y/N said she’d have to think about it, but she’d definitely consider it.

She had realized over the course of two months that she was not truly in love with Paul. Yes, she fancied him, but she must’ve mistaken the feeling of being genuinely in love with the person for being in love with the situation. Y/N concluded that this relationship was the equivalent of living out one’s childhood dreams of a romance with their schoolgirl crush.

She decided that she was retired from dating for a long time, especially because of how this shitshow ended, but a miniscule piece of her wondered when and how she’d meet her other half.

In the afternoon on the day of the show, which was to be played at the Wimbledon Palais, Y/N made the reckless decision to take a trip down to the Yardbirds’ hotel, but not for the reason you might expect.

Y/N never got the chance to thank Jim McCarty for coming clean about Paul’s infidelity to his wife by “dating” her, and to formally apologize for ripping him at the Ready, Steady, Go! rehearsals. She felt bad for being so dismissive of him, because he was always so nice to her and apparently seemed to care more about her wellbeing than Paul ever did.

Y/N stood on the platform of the train station anxiously, meticulously scheming in her mind about what she would say to Jim to truly and genuinely express her gratitude. She thought about how the encounter would go all the way to London, and all the way on her walk to the hotel.

When she arrived at the hotel, she greeted the concierge, and took the elevator to what she believed to be the Yardbirds’ floor. She took an educated guess as to which room Jim’s would be, just by what she had seen in past times. Y/N took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

When the door opened, she realized that in her best interest, her guess was correct.

“Hi,” she greeted breathily, her fingers interlaced together in front of her timidly.

“Hi,” Jim smiled. After a short moment of awkward silence, he continued, “Um, what are you doing here? Not that it’s a bad thing, which it’s not, but…” he trailed off.

“I just wanted to tell you something that I think needed to be said in-person,” Y/N said quickly.

Jim raised his eyebrows in surprised delight. “Oh, okay.” He moved out of the way of the doorframe so Y/N could enter the room, then shut the door gently behind her. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he chuckled, “make yourself at home.”

Y/N smiled and thanked him graciously, but shyly, as she sat down at a small couch at the edge of the bed. Jim was quick to follow her actions.

Y/N took a deep breath before beginning, “I just wanted to thank you for informing me about Paul in February. I know, it’s been a really long time since then… but I’ve needed some time to myself to think and refocus and recuperate, y’know?”

Jim just laughed. “You came all the way here to thank me? That’s so nice of you. You didn’t need to do that.”

Y/N grinned. “I don’t know, I felt this obligation for some reason. And in addition, I wanted to apologize for lashing out at you as well. I was just shell-shocked, I guess, and I unfairly took it out on you and Jeff.”

“If I forgave you then, I’ll still forgive you now,” Jim smiled, “don’t sweat it. In all honesty, I was surprised at how well you took the news.”

“I just wanted to be as calm and composed as possible,” Y/N blushed, “but obviously I didn’t get very far, did I?” Jim laughed at Y/N’s little jab at herself.

“Well, you’re so quiet, at least you showed a piece of your inner self that night,” Jim teased. Y/N just beamed at him.

“You know, since I owe you, now… I guess I just need to live a little, y’know? I have this introverted shell I need to break out of someday, and I might as well start now,” Y/N offered with a chuckle. “So, with that being said, let me do something for you. Anything you want.”

“Oh no, that’s too much. You didn’t even cause me any grief,” Jim retaliated playfully, “thank you, Y/N, but I think you’re overthinking this whole situation.”

“Please,” she continued with a pleading voice, “I feel awful, and plus, if it makes you feel better, you’ll be helping me clear my conscience. Jim, I’ll do anything you want, no matter how crazy… I’ll take you jet-skiing, I’ll ride on a bike in a bikini when the temperature is below freezing, I’ll clean your kitchen… anything you want me to do, I will do.”

Jim grinned at the bizarre options Y/N gave him before contemplating her invocation for a moment. Anything, huh?

“Kiss me.”

“You said you'd do anything, no matter how crazy, yes?” Y/N didn't get a chance to finish, as Jim interrupted her with a hand at her wrist, and a flinty look in his eyes, that gazed right into hers.

“I did.”

“Well,” Jim continued, stepping ever-closer to the young woman in front of him. She looked just as beautiful as she always had, if not more. Jim was convinced she was perfect, and wanted to protect her. To treat her right, the way she deserved. “You could get on your knees, in front of me.”

Kneeling down on the carpeted floor, Y/N looked up at him through her eyelashes, and the glint in her eyes made his knees weak. She looked almost shy, and he couldn't help but send a comforting smile her way.

“Have you done this before, Y/N?”

She shook her head at this, and looked down, almost embarrassed. Jim, heart pounding in his chest in anticipation, reached out a hand to lift her head. Her eyes held trust, and a hint of nervousness, but her lips quirk up in a smile, her cheeks flushing.

“I’ll walk you through it, love.” The sound of a belt clinking to the floor reached Y/N’s ears, zipper following suit, and she couldn’t help the way she almost thrummed with anticipation. Her parents had warned her against exactly this type of thing. Musicians were, according to her parents, a fickle breed, who only wanted her for her looks and body. It hurt to think of it now, when Jim was being nothing but a gentleman to her. She wanted to break out of her shell, and maybe this was the way to do it.

Y/N looks to Jim and sees him exposed, fully hard now, and her cheeks erupt into shades of rosy pink. He was big, much bigger than she would have expected, and she smiled up at him.

“Okay, love. Open your mouth.” Y/N opened her mouth, sinking it over his tip, which elicits a strained moan, full of pleasure. His hand landed in Y/N’s hair, fingers clenching gently around the tresses. The light tug Y/N felt only spurred her on.

“That’s incredible, princess. Now, try and circle your tongue. You’re doing so well.”

Y/N did as she’s told, and it’s like a spell was put over the man. He craned his head back, neck bared, as soft whimpers fell past his lips. Growing more confident, knowing now what he liked, she let her teeth rake over him lightly, which worked more moans from him, almost breathless in his euphoria.

With a murmured “fuck,” he comes, Y/N’s name the only thing on his lips. She slowly released him from her mouth, wiping her lips with the back of her hand as she stood. Jim, leaning up against the wall, was in bliss, heaving breaths and ruffling Y/N’s hair as she approached.

“That was… you're perfect, princess. Absolutely perfect.”

Y/N laughs, smile nearly splitting her cheeks, and she pressed even closer, pressing her lips to his in a soft, content embrace. She could taste the sweat on his lips, and she couldn't help but think that she could definitely get used to this feeling.

Jim revelled in the feel of her soft lips against his, and he was struck by the thought that this is exactly where he’s supposed to be. He’s where he wants to be, beside Y/N.

————

Taglist: @blood-on-blood @reincarnated70sbaby

[buckyownsmylife]

Albatross - Tom Hardy smut

The one where your bond is revealed when you become of age and present, but your mate is your father’s best friend.

Warnings: smut, p in v, oral sex (f) a/b/o dynamics, age difference, dirty talk, curse words

A/N: Here it is, folks! One of my favorite fics that I had planned for this kinktober. I love this concept so much that I think I might create a second version of it someday. For now, let me remind you that the prompts were a/b/o dynamics and age difference, but I made sure to keep the reader’s age open to interpretation so no one would feel uncomfortable. You can pretend that the presentation age in this universe is 18, 20, 21 or 25 - or whatever else! It’s really up to you.

Tom’s P.O.V.

I could feel that something was off from the second I woke up. Like the world that I’d woken up to wasn’t the same I’d left the night before. Like suddenly, everything had turned in their axis and I was left scrambling around to understand the change.

Still, I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Call it a gut feeling. As a pack’s Alpha, I knew it was wise to trust mine. But without any clear evidence of something being out of place, all it left me with was this paranoid feeling of uncertainty.

That was, until news broke out of my Beta’s house, also known as my best friend.

“Y/N’s presenting,” he told me, a pained look on his face that I could perfectly understand. It shouldn’t be easy to lose an offspring, to see them grow up and become ready for the taking, but it was part of life, at least for us.

“What’s her status?” I asked, nodding patiently at him as I placed a firm hand over his shoulder, wanting to calm him down. He hesitated for a bit before answering.

“Omega.” I understood his hesitancy. Unmated omegas had a hard time even in packs, especially during heats, since Alphas couldn’t really control their instincts around them. At least, they needed that same connection, which could make the situation more acceptable, as it constituted at least some sort of consensual bond, but the fact of the matter was that omegas needed alphas to get through their heats, or they’d die, and a decision made in need wasn’t much of an actual decision in any sense.

Still, I was their Alpha and I knew I had to calm them down, so I did just so, the only way I could think of.

“I’m sure that when she gets over these first few days of fever, she’ll find her mate, Chris. Try not to worry too much about it. We have a lot of good, strong, eligible alphas in the pack, certainly one of them is her mate.” Of course, one of those alphas was me, but the possibility didn’t even cross my mind. She had just reached maturity, I was over forty and I’d seen her grow up. I was there the day she was born, I’d have noted if we had that sort of... special connection.

Of course, rationally, I knew it was possible. The truth was that the bond only made itself known after both parts present, but I still found it impossible to consider that a girl I had cradled in my arms right after her birth would be my mate. 

My friend nodded, thanking me for the support, and I watched him and his wife try to get through the day before they had to go back home and take care of their daughter. I commended myself for a job well done, hoping that now that the surprise had been clarified, that anxious feeling would disappear.

It didn’t. I could barely sleep that night, my senses in overdrive as I moved around in bed. It was like my body thought there was an upcoming battle and it was trying to prepare itself to deal with it. My heart was beating at a level that pumped the adrenaline coursing through my veins even faster, and by the time the sun rose up in the horizon, I had maybe taken a couple of naps. Actual rest had been absolutely impossible.

Still, until the danger that my instincts were catching onto actually appeared, there wasn’t much that I could do. There was, however, a lot that I had to do as pack leader, and so I tried to get on with my day as if nothing was wrong. I couldn’t very well leave my members worried over something that I didn’t even know what it was. So after I ate some breakfast, I left my cabin to get on with my day, starting of course with a visit to my best friend’s house. As my Beta, he would know what I should prioritize that day. 

Also, I figured it was the polite thing to do, check on Y/N and see if she was feeling better after her presentation. She was a part of my pack, after all. What I wasn’t expecting, however, was for her family to be gathered in the main hall, along with several other members, and that the moment I went through those doors, the only thing I could see was her. 

The smell of oranges and basil hit my nose, inebriating my senses, and I had to hold onto the threshold of the cabin’s door to steady myself. Of course, the lack of balance and the crackling noise the wood made as I broke some of the structure I was holding onto caught everyone’s attention, but no one seemed to understand what was going on with me.

Until Y/N whimpered, her eyes connected with mine as she visibly trembled where she stood. The second that sound escaped her lips I knew everyone had caught on to what was happening, especially her father. But at that very instant I lost every amount of self-control I had managed to gather through my years as a leader and I couldn’t care less about what Chris or anyone else was thinking. All I knew was there was my mate, she was still unmarked, and there were far too many alphas surrounding her.

I made my way over to her so fast I was almost sure I had jumped or ran. In the back of my mind I noticed that people stepped aside to let me make my way to her, but I was too far gone to actually process the information. All that mattered was her. I needed to get her out of here, and soon.

The closer I got to her, the stronger was her scent. I was growling by the time I pulled her to me and threw her over my shoulder. It was an animalistic gesture of ownership, but it was all my mind could come up with at that moment. I just needed to get her out of there. 

It was then that a particular smell hit my nose. Alpha. Turning around, I recognized her father through the haze I was currently under. It seemed like he was trying to calm me down, I could see from his lips’ motions that he was saying my name, but I couldn’t care less what he had to say to me at that moment. He was stopping me from claiming my mate. He was a threat to my bonding and I couldn’t have that.

The second I bared my teeth to him, however, he seemed to understand that there was no talking me out of what was happening. 

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I don’t know if it was Tom’s threat or my pained whimper that stopped my father from interfering, but I was glad to see his retreating form, mainly because it meant that I was one step closer to leaving this room and the god awful smells of random alphas that surrounded me.

It was so putrid that it burned, hurting my insides and making me hold my stomach in an effort to calm down the cramps that were threatening to kill me. A whimpered pain escaped my lips and suddenly Tom’s hands were around me, howling me up and throwing me over one of his shoulders.

The second his hands touched my sweaty skin, I let out a breathy sigh of relief, the close proximity to my Alpha instantly sufficing to calm me down, at least for now. I knew that for me to actually feel okay again, we’d have to complete the bonding.

A shiver went down my spine as the reality of my situation broke a bit of the fever I was currently under. I was about to be claimed by my Alpha, who also happened to be the pack’s Alpha. 

Not only that, but I was about to have sex for the first time, and with my father’s best friend, someone I’d known since I was a kid. Someone I used to consider sort of an uncle. At least that awkwardness from my part had disappeared as I approached my teenage years and started to realize just how attractive Tom was. It was no secret that the unmated Alpha was desired by many women - and some men - in the pack, including the teenage girls who’d follow him around with a love sick expression as soon as their hormones kicked in.

The only thing that stopped me from being one of those girls was the embarrassment over the fact that he was a constant presence on our family meals, always teasing me and making me laugh.

That was what I was thinking about when the world turned to its rightful place, Tom having gently lowered me to my feet again. Before I could even rationalize that I should probably snap out of it and fake a smile, his finger was under my chin, tipping my head up to look at him.

“What’s wrong?” A resigned sigh escaped my lips, knowing I would never be able to hide anything from him, not when he was my true mate and my Alpha. I guess I’d have to get used to this.

“It’s just… This is a bit weird, isn’t it?” I managed to explain, my heart pounding as I feared some sort of resentment or anger from him. Besides, I was also still wrestling with the overwhelming mix of emotions and hormones that tried to take over my body, wanting to make sure I’d never leave this cabin unmated.

But that wasn’t Tom. Even if he was scary from afar, and downright threatening and aggressive when needed, he was also gentle and caring towards his pack members, especially when they were vulnerable.

That was definitely my case now. Also, I was his mate - I had to keep reminding myself of that, it still didn’t feel real - and it was ludicrous of me to even consider that he would ever treat me as anything less than a princess. Even before, he’d always reserved that sort of treatment for me, his “little girl”, as he’d often call me.

So he mirrored my sigh, his arm reaching out to hold my hand in his, and I automatically gravitated closer to him, desperate to feel his warmth on my skin, to know that he was close to me. I knew it was biological, but it felt like something so much deeper. It felt like a calling from the soul.

“Yes, it is weird.” I don’t know why, but the second those words left his lips, I felt the tenseness from my body disappear, my muscles relaxing as he held me close to his chest in a very welcomed hug. Something about knowing that he felt the same way as I did calmed me down, made me feel like this was okay, somehow.

Neither of us knew what was going to happen, but we were going to find out together. We had each other now, and hopefully, forever.

Then, a new wave of cramps hit me, making me double over and startling Tom, who released me so I could hold my stomach, but then tried to reach out to me in whatever way he could find, desperate to know what was going on.

“The cramps…” I explained as best as I could, grabbing onto the front of his shirt in an effort to hold myself up. “... They’re starting again.” Once again, Tom’s strong hands were there to rescue me, and soon he had hoisted me up in a bridal position so he could carry me up the stairs, where his bedroom was located.

Tom’s P.O.V.

“Shhh… You’re gonna be okay, princess. You’re gonna get through this.” God, there wasn’t even a bond between us and I was already feeling her pain. I desperately wanted to help her, make it go away. I could feel the need to protect deep in my bones, trying to once again snap my control, but although I knew what was the only thing that could help her, I still needed her to be okay with this first.

“Tom… Tom, please, help me.” I pushed strands of her hair away from her sweaty face, and she whimpered underneath me, sweat already starting to make her skin glisten underneath my fingertips. I ached to lick it, taste her on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t feel like I could do it. Not yet.

“Tell me what you need,” I pressed, cradling her face between my palms. “Tell me how I can help.”

“You,” she breathed out, and I could see the desperation in her beautiful eyes. It hurt my chest, and once again the Alpha inside of me tried to claw its way to the front of my brain. “I need you to kiss me. Please, kiss me.”

She really didn’t have to say twice. I was dying to taste her lips since I saw her that morning. So I leaned over her, bringing her to meet me halfway by my grip on her jaw, and the second that our lips touched, I was a goner.

So soft, she was just so soft. Her mouth danced with mine and it felt like velvet against my chapped lips and the way she moaned when I licked on her bottom lip, prying it open, made a deep, possessive growl escape from deep within my chest.

“You smell so good.” I barely recognized my own voice as it came raspier than usual when I forced ourselves to separate so she could catch her breath. I’d happily suffocate if it meant I could keep on kissing her, but it was my job to make sure she would be okay.

I rubbed my nose over her shoulder, looking for the scent gland on her neck and nuzzling it upon my discovery. God, even if I wasn’t on my rut yet, this felt overwhelming, in the best possible way. But I could feel the need to mate rising from within me, and I couldn’t let it take over yet.

It didn’t seem like Y/N was all that opposed to my carnal needs, however, if the way she climbed on my lap to pull me back to her lips by the back of my neck was anything to go by. I still had it in me to chuckle against her mouth, amused by her eagerness, but that was only before she started to rub herself against me, whimpering desperately as she clawed at my shirt.

“Hot… It’s so hot in here. I need to -” I was still so dumbfounded over her last actions that it didn’t strike me what she was about to do until her dress was already on the floor, and I was staring at the practically naked young woman on my lap.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Heat, it was all I felt besides the overwhelming emptiness that made my pussy clench sporadically around nothing. By that point, I couldn’t think of anything else. The pain had been replaced by this burning desire for the man in front of me, but it was burning so brightly that it was threatening to start hurting me, too.

“Knot…” I managed to say, despite my usual embarrassment to say that word, or the next phrase that so easily fell from my lips. “I need your knot.” Tom suddenly tightened his grip on my waist, and I whimpered from the pressure, but also relished in it. I knew there’d be marks, and just the thought of them made the wetness that was already gathering in my pussy start to drip onto my panties.

“Fuck, I can fuckin’ smell you, princess. You’re fucking dripping for me, aren’t you?” I could only whine in response. Tom took me off his waist, but before I could complain, he laid me down on his bed, crawling over me. “I need to prepare you, little one. I know it’s your first time, and even if you’re in heat right now and I’m your mate, I don’t want you suffering, okay?”

Whereas normally I would have melted at his preoccupation, the idea of his preparation only registered in my brain as a delay from my goal, that was to be filled with his cock, so I wailed while he worked on taking off my bra. 

“Why is this so fucking hard?” He complained, the strap escaping from his fingers as he couldn’t seem to have the patience to actually do it properly. “Fuck this shit.” A gasp resonated around the room as he ripped the lace tissue from my chest, but then he was growling and latching himself on one of my nipples, licking and sucking and it made the burn between my legs worsen.

“Please, Alpha, please!” I don’t think he would have been able to separate himself from my breasts if I hadn’t called his presentation. Since it was the first time he was hearing it, though, his head whipped up, and he looked directly at me, seemingly astounded by that simple word.

“Please…” I whispered again, and that snapped him out of his reverie, making him deposit wet kisses all over my stomach as I thrashed around the bed, trying to force him down faster. 

“I’ll take care of you, omega.” My panties, the last piece of clothing left on me, met the same fate as my bra, and then I was naked, spread open for Tom’s eyes to explore me. He licked his lips hungrily, noting, “You’re soaked already,” right as he lowered himself to deposit a kiss over my navel.

“J-just one of the reasons w-why y-you don’t have to do this,” I tried to reason with him, knowing that he had the best of intentions, but I needed his freaking knot sooner rather than later.

“Have to? I’m dying to taste your glistening little pussy. It’s calling out to me, angel.” That was the only warning I got before his mouth descended upon me, engulfing my whole pussy like it was nothing more than an open buffet for him to satiate his primal hunger.

Tom’s P.O.V.

I’d never tasted anything like her pussy before. Immediately, I knew that I’d be spending a lot of my following evenings with my head between her gorgeous legs, licking away at her little clit, and fucking her hole with my tongue.

“You taste like fucking candy,” I growled against her cunt, appreciating the downright filthy sounds that my slurping was creating against her wetness. Pushing my tongue as far as it could reach inside of her hole, I noticed how it pulsed against me, and I couldn’t wait to feel it around my cock.

But first… “I have to prepare you,” I said it out loud, to remind both her and me that nothing else was happening before I could get through this task. Normally, I wouldn’t consider it a hazard at all, I loved making a woman cry out with pleasure underneath me - and this was my mate, not just any woman - but I knew she needed to have me inside of her soon, and quite frankly, I didn’t know how much longer I could hold myself back either.

I pushed one finger inside of her as I continued to suck on her clit, immediately pushing another as she was already really wet and her pussy stretched easily to welcome any sort of thickness inside of it, since she was on her heat. Pretty soon I was able to put a third one, and I pulled away from her pussy just enough to watch my digits going in and out of her.

“Now, that’s fucking hot.” Her thighs trembled on each side of me and her moans became more high-pitched, and I understood that she was about to cum, so I lowered myself to lick her again and that was when she tumbled over the edge, crying out my name and my presentation consecutively, her legs wrapping themselves around my head to keep me where I was.

As soon as the waves crashed down and I was able to detach myself from her, though, it became clear that it hadn’t been enough. She needed me, and now I felt like I could finally give what she needed to her.

“You ready, princess?” I made sure of it as I rushed to open my jeans and get my cock out, groaning as the feeling of my fist around it was enough to make it throb. It’d been hard and ready and pulsing ever since I saw my mate.

“Yes, please, please, Alpha!” With another animalistic growl, I slowly pushed myself inside of her, only stopping when I bottomed out. I wanted to wait until she was ready, I knew she’d be much more receptive to the penetration thanks to her state, but I guessed it would still feel uncomfortable on some level.

Apparently, I was wrong.

“Fuck me, please, Tom, MOVE!” At that last request, I fully let myself go, allowing the Alpha to take over and claim his mate like he needed it to. I slipped out of her before easily manhandling her on her stomach, barking at her to present for her Alpha, and the second her pretty little pussy was thrusted up against me again, I pushed in and started pounding her.

“Fuck, little one, look at you… Taking your first cock so well. Your mate’s cock, angel. You won’t ever get to know how another feels like, will you? Because you’re mine. I’ve waited so long for a mate, for you, and you’re here now. You’re all mine, ‘mega.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I cried out both at his words and at the pressure I felt as his cock’s head speared against my cervix. It hurt, but it hurt so good, there were literal tears falling from my eyes on the mattress underneath me.

“Yours, I’m all yours,” I managed to gasp, and it spurred him on. I couldn’t even identify when he thrusted out of me, I felt so full and the emptiness was fulfilled and all I wanted was to keep this high forever.

“Tell me that again,” he ordered, making me whine as his hips kept pounding against my ass, the slaps echoing around the room.

“I’m yours, Alpha. Please, don’t stop!”

“‘m not gonna stop, I’m never gonna stop fucking you.” With a howl, I felt his knot pop open inside of me, prompting my release just as he pulled me up to carve his teeth on my neck. He kept slowly grinding against me, like he couldn’t get enough, and it made me laugh but also moan in satisfaction as he started to lick over his mark on my skin.

“Mine,” he whispered afterwards, when he managed to adjust us so we were both spooning on his bed, his knot still keeping us connected and bringing me a comfortable feeling of belonging I’d never felt before.

“Yours,” I repeated, caressing the hand with which he groped one of my breasts. “All yours, Alpha. You’re not alone anymore.”

[fiveisnumber1]

Timeless - Five Hargreeves x Reader Side Story

I’m in the process of working on the next part of the main story of Timeless but I decided to write this short little side story so I hope y’all enjoy!

Main story parts:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28

_________________________

The Tattoo - “A Family Reunion” Side Story

January 17th, 2014:

After a long day at school, Diego had come to pick you up. Holding the straps of your backpack you walked towards his car. Although the Umbrella Academy had pretty much faded out of the collective thoughts of the public, Diego still tried to keep a low profile for you. You never knew if there were any die-hard fans around so it was better to be safe than sorry. Getting into the passenger seat Diego happily ruffles your hair saying,

“Hey kiddo, you made it to Friday. Congrats on finishing your second school week.”

“Thanks.” You replied softly

It had been hard starting school again. You had been there for only ten days in total and it was completely different from what you knew. Public school was nothing like the private school your parents used to send you to. It was loud and rambunctious and there was never a quiet moment. It was good because you were never alone with your thoughts but the semi-structured environment wasn’t something you were equipped for. And on top of it, you were surrounded by kids your age but they weren’t your friends. You didn’t have friends anymore. As Diego drove away from the school you looked out the window watching the other kids pass by as they got on busses or into their family’s cars. Turning back to sit straight Diego asks,

“Anything interesting happen today?” 

“I pulled a knife on a kid at lunch.” You reply nonchalantly

“I’m not saying you were wrong. But why?” Diego asks

“He had a bow and arrow on him and startled me.” you responded

You hadn’t expected anyone to come up to you during lunch. You typically minded your own business and sat alone. Well, not completely alone. You sat at the same table as a girl from your music class. You knew she played the viola but other than that was quiet and reserved. You two never really talked but every once in a while you’d glance at each other. The kid that approached you though was more outgoing and made his presence known. He was in your gym class and always seen with a taller blond boy. You didn’t know why he had decided to come over to you but nevertheless, he did and even after you had pulled a knife on him he decided to sit down across from you and start talking. You didn’t really respond but you did listen to him. He kind of reminded you of Diego but maybe this would be just a one-off experience. 

Diego had thought about your response for just a quick second before responding,

“That’s reasonable. I’m proud of you for protecting yourself.”

“He didn’t seem like too much of a threat but okay.” you stated

Diego let out a small laugh. Of course, you wouldn’t see some 13-year old with a bow as a threat. Diego continued to drive as you told him about your classes and what you were studying. He listened happily as you discussed the experiments you were doing in Science class and how you were writing poetry in English. The two of you soon came to a stop as you arrived at the boxing club you were both a part of. On Friday’s you would come along with him before going back to the academy the next day. Entering the building you sat down on a nearby chair and started working on your homework as Diego trained with another member. Typically, he would work with you but because he had a match coming up soon he needed to focus on himself. 

Every once in a while though you would go up to the side of the ring and ask for help with a part of your homework. Sometimes you actually needed help but other times you just enjoyed the way your brother’s eyes lit up when you told him you needed him and the proud look on his face when you finally solved the problem. When you had finished your homework you would drag the chair to the side of the ring to watch your brother spar. Swinging your feet back and forth as you sat on the chair you tried to study the practice fight so you could improve your own fighting skills. During the fight though you would catch quick glimpses of Diego’s wrist and the Umbrella Academy tattoo that resided on it. You hated the sight. It was as if Reginald permanently branded him, connecting him to something he never decided to be a part of in the first place. It was a marking that would never go away just like the childhood he was robbed of as part of the Umbrella Academy.

The hours passed and soon it was time to close the club down for the day. Most other club members left and Diego grabbed the mop and bucket from the corner to start cleaning. Cleaning up the club was his livelihood. Al, the owner, was kind enough to let him turn the boiler room into a bedroom and give him a decent wage in exchange for training people during the day and cleaning up at night. You were always so proud of him. Your brother worked hard, harder than anyone else you knew. Even during his time in the Umbrella Academy he always pushed himself to do his best and then some. You admired it and wanted to work just as hard as he did. 

As he cleaned, you tried to help him though. Using your powers you did your best to liquefy the dried sweat and blood so it would be easier to clean. By the time he had finished, it was late and you had grown tired. Diego puts the mop and bucket away before coming over to you and saying,

“I think it’s time you get to sleep.” 

You nodded your head and let out a yawn standing up so you could head to the boiler room that Diego called home. Placing a hand on your back Diego guided you there. You rubbed your eyes before climbing into the bed. Diego tucked you in nicely before sitting on the edge of the bed and stroking your hair until you fell asleep. Once he knew you were completely asleep he carefully got up and went over to a chair across the room. He sat and watched you for a while to make sure you were okay but soon enough he drifted off too.

You started to toss and turn in your sleep. A chill creeping into your bones as images of snow rushed into your mind. The voices of your parents and friends surrounding you. Frantically you look around for them and see silhouettes. Familiar figures extending their hands as they call our your name, beckoning you to them. You rush towards the figures but the snow starts to pick up. The figures become obscured. You run around calling out their names but no one responds. From behind you, you hear the sound of snow crunching as if someone was running away. You turn around from the direction your family and friends were and follow the footsteps in the snow. Up ahead you see a figure that grows clearer the closer you get. 

“Five.”

You pushed yourself to run harder. To try and catch him. When you feel you’re close enough you extend your hand to grab his jacket but just as you do he vanishes. You trip and fall to the ground.

“No!” You called out as you sat up straight in bed.

Your body shook as tears started to prick your eyes. You looked around only to see the boiler room and Diego sitting on his chair off to the side. No snow, no figures, no Five. You took a few breaths before quietly getting up from the bed and heading over towards Diego. Carefully, you shake his arm quietly calling,

“Eggo. Eggoooo.”

Diego wakes up startled but soon calms down when he sees you there. He can see the tears building up in your eyes glisten from the light of the lamp. He always left the lamp on because he thought it would ease the nightmares but they still seemed to happen.

“Bad dream?” He questioned softly

You nodded your head in response. Diego opened his arms allowing you to sit in his lap before he held you close. You were so small and you didn’t deserve all this pain you were going through. He knew from his own experience of how difficult it was to be young and struggling with the pain of traumatic events. Tears slipped from your eyes as you dealt with the fallout of another nightmare. Diego slowly rocked you as he held you, the same way mom did for him when he was still small. When your vision cleared slightly you could see the image of the tattoo on Diego’s wrist. You reached out and using your pointer finger you began to trace the image over and over. Diego noticed what you were doing and questioned,

“Princess, why do you keep tracing that?”

You looked away from the tattoo and up at your older brother.

“If I trace it enough times maybe I can erase it away.” you explain quietly

“Unfortunately, that’s not how it works.” Diego responds

“But heat breaks down ink, if I can just vibrate the molecules enough I can make it go away. I know I can.” You elaborate 

“I’ve come to terms with it you don’t need to make it go away.” Diego softly replies

He hadn’t come to terms with it though. It was an awful reminder of the despicable man who he called his father. The same one whose roof you were now living under. Diego wished that he made more money, that he had a place where he could keep you safe from that man, but he didn’t. He knew you were fiercely independent and smart, but so was Five and their dad still did enough damage to make him run away through time. Five was the whole reason you were even in this mess. Diego wanted to seem strong for you though so he kept his feelings to himself on the matter. He might not have come to terms with it but you were the focus now, his focus, and his residual problems matter much less than making sure you would be okay.

“The one day I wasn’t able to be there...I went with my dad to bring your child to work day and yours did this.” You stated as you continued to look at the marking

It’s true. He did pick the one day where you were busy. You had talked all the week before about bring your child to work day and how it worked. You had gone every year with him since you were 3. He and his siblings were all excited to hear what it was like when you visited the next day but that excitement was ruined by the permanent scar they all received. 

Diego remembered that day in vivid detail. They were all summoned to the parlor and before they knew it the carnage began. Klaus got his tattoo first as punishment for being intoxicated. It was a vicious punishment for such a minor action. Allison went next and cried the whole time. When she finished Klaus held her as she continued to spill tears. Then it was his turn. The needle scared him but he put on a tough face to show that he had the mental fortitude to be a leader. He didn’t even accept comfort from his own mother. Luther and Ben went next and then Five was last. Five had looked at the front door the whole time, probably hoping you would show up unannounced and stop it before he was marked. It didn’t happen. All of them knew that their father chose this day on purpose. It was cruel. Diego looked off in the distance as the memories replayed in his head. He still tried to cheer up the conversation though by lightly joking,

“If he did it on a day you were around you would’ve burned the house down.” 

His joking didn’t work though as you sadly followed up,

“All of you hid it from me. Why?”

“We all knew you’d feel exactly like this, like it was your fault. We made a pact not to say anything because it would hurt your feelings and I’m sure you could guess who led the efforts on that idea.” Diego responded honestly

You nodded your head. Of course, he didn’t want to hurt your feelings.

“I always felt like you knew, but you never said anything so I wasn’t sure. How did you find out?” Diego added

“Vanya.” You respond with a yawn

“Of course it was Vanya.” Diego mumbles

You could feel yourself growing tired again. Your eyelids started to droop as you explained,

“She had drawn the image in black marker on her wrist and when I asked why she told me. He didn’t say anything until I brought it up.”

You didn’t like referring to Five by his name. You barely mentioned him because the wound of his loss was still too much. Diego didn’t understand how someone who cared for you so much could cut you so deeply. It didn’t make sense, but he couldn’t change the past.

“I could’ve protected you all...” You mumbled before falling back asleep

“It wasn’t your job to protect us.” Diego quietly replied

He held your small sleeping figure closer to him and rocked you once more.

“But it’s my job to protect you.”

[soundofseventeen]

How Would You Feel (Chwe Hansol)

It’s still technically your birthday, so I’m not late!!!!!! Happy birthday, @dvoz-writes​!!! Never forget how much we love you!!!! And this also works (a little) for our 2/18 birthday boys!!!!

Word count: 3000

Inspo: How Would You Feel

The first time Hansol almost said he loved you, he had bumped into you on a busy Saturday night. He remembered walking backwards as he admired the bright lights illuminating one of the movie theaters and straight into you, which made you lose the perfect shot of the town clock striking midnight. He turned around the moment he made contact with you and in a split second, his vocabulary flew out the window and something jolted inside his brain. It processed “Sorry,” in English but it crossed with his Korean, and the “Sar-” was already ready to fly out his mouth and he caught it, finally stumbling out his apology.

Luckily for him, you didn’t notice the slip up, but you were trying not to fall captive to his brown eyes and the lights making them sparkle didn’t really help your case. Instead, you assured him that accidents happened and when you saw his shirt and recognized the group. You asked him a question, followed by another, and then ten minutes later, he invited you to a small coffee shop to further discuss the group. 

“Yeah, I’ve seen them a lot of times,” he admitted shyly, sipping on his hot chocolate, “they’re really good live and it’s always worth the money. How about you?”

“I try to go to as many shows as possible. They’re my favorite outside of kpop.” You stirred your own coffee pensively, unsure whether to tell this stranger your deepest regret. Well, he wasn’t a stranger; you would’ve been a fool not to recognize Hansol Vernon Chwe, but he was still someone you didn’t know. “One of their shows I missed, this most recent one I couldn’t afford to go because work hates me and I need the money, but they said it was their best one yet.”

“Oh yeah, I went to that one. They added a song that wasn’t normally on the set, and I recorded it.” He pulled out his phone and began scrolling through it as if his life depended on it. “There it is.” He debated whether to show you. He was aware you knew him, but he appreciated the way you treated him like a normal person. He hadn’t felt this way around anyone in awhile, so he handed it to you.

“No way,” you gasped when you pressed play. “This is my favorite song. I mean, I saw it on YouTube and everything but-” you didn’t finish your sentence, you hand covering your mouth in awe and shock. You could feel the tears coming but you wouldn’t cry. Not tonight in front of an idol.

Hansol cocked his head, processing all your emotions, feeling the smile coming on and he didn’t fight it. His heart did a thing, and for a moment, he regretted not telling you he loved you, but then he remembered he didn’t know you or your name, and he wanted to know you. The moment the song finished and he locked eyes with you, he knew he had fallen in love with you.

*

The second time he almost told you he loved you, it was after he invited you to come with him to see his family. Sofia had a thing to do and after countless hours of begging him that he needed to see this, he relented and you crossed his mind, and he said he’d go on the condition that he could bring a friend and she agreed. So he called you, and he left you a voicemail when you didn’t pick up, when he forgot that you worked that day. You called him a couple hours later on your break (leaving your own voicemail because he had idol duties to attend to) and let him know that you cleared a few days off the ones in question. 

The look on Sofia’s face when she had opened the door and saw you instead of one of the members was amusing, to say the least, but she warmed up to you really quickly. She still had a few hours until she had to go to a school graduation, one that had asked her to sing the Korean national anthem so she was doing everything she could to keep her nerves under control. You were currently on the floor, playing a board game and they were both yelling at you and accusing you of cheating. Even through everyone's fit of giggles, Sofia couldn’t miss the way your competitive streak came out and how Hansol just egged your annoyance on. A few rounds later, you called it quits by throwing your cards on the board, mostly because it was time for the little sister to start getting ready and because when it was siblings against the one person, they usually won. You reached over and mussed Sofia’s hair and she jumped up quickly, claiming she needed to shower before everyone was late. You helped Vernon pick up the game, joining in his sing-along and him telling you about how he grew up and pointing to the various juice stains on the ceiling and showing you all his favorite books. 

Sofia found you both in the kitchen about 20 minutes later, huddled over bowls of cereal and arguing over which was the best one and she announced it was time to go.

Although you only stayed at the graduation for a few minutes, everyone treated Sofia as if she had performed a full concert and everyone was now celebrating it, not that there were any complaints. Everyone was having a good time; the parents were drinking and he saw you and Sofia squeezing your eyes shut from the pain that brain freeze brought. He looked at the milkshake cups, his sister having drunk more than you did and he decided to help you out by eating as much as he could before his own brain freeze followed. He placed his palms on his temples, exhaling deeply, his breath cold and he still laughed along with you. 

Later that night, once everyone was sound asleep, he snuck to the kitchen to get a glass of water and stopped at seeing you still up. He watched the way you turned the page intently and how you struggled to keep the flashlight on your phone steady. He smiled, the thirst no longer a problem to him and instead thumped the couch cushion to get your attention.

You jumped, the light blinding you momentarily as you heard Hansol laughing. “I’m gonna kill you,” you whispered.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Sofia gave me this book and I wanna finish it before we go home.”

He liked the way you said we; it seemed like you were on the same team. Home too. It was like he pictured his future with you looking at him the way you were if he ever accidentally dropped your favorite mug on a night like this. Again, the “Sa-” was on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t know how you’d react, so he had to switch tactics asap. “Sofia has good taste. She’s the reason I grew to like books. Even if we have to stay a little longer, we will. Or I can just buy you a copy...but we have to have joint custody.”

“Sounds like a deal, Chwe.”

*

The third time he almost said it, you had managed to pull off a surprise birthday party for not one but two boys....with the help of the ‘95 line helping you decorate the place, the ‘96 line going out and buying the ingredients you needed to make the birthday boys a cake for each of them; Mingyu and Minghao taking Seokmin to go to a carnival in the next town, and Seungkwan and Chan taking Hansol to a record store and buying some stuff. Hansol had wanted to spend the day with you but he had been under the impression that you had to work that day and that his respective brothers had some recording to attend to. 

(It wasn’t easy to pull it off, considering Hansol kept bugging Seungcheol every few minutes, asking when the maknae line was due to arrive to the studio and Minghao asking Jeonghan how else to distract Seokmin. Your efforts were almost blown when the front door slammed open and you dropped the frosting, and you couldn’t help but beat Chan (he was alone) with the dishrag you used to pick up the mess. 

“When you marry Vernon hyung, you still better be spoiling him like this because it’d be false advertising as my future in-law,” he said eyeing the sink and pulling out a dirty spoon you used to make the frosting. He didn’t think twice as he licked the chocolate.

“I have no intentions of marrying Vernon.”

“Your loss,” he shrugged and turned to the oldest boy. “Hyung, are you almost done here? I’m tired of hearing Kwannie hyung sing all the songs on his phone.”

“Almost. Just be patient.” And with that, Chan left satisfied, and Seungcheol looked at you trying to focus on the last of Seokmin’s cake. “So is it okay if I ask you what’s going on with you and Nonie? Or is that too personal?”

You shook your head. “Nothing’s going on. We’re just friends.” The blush on your cheeks and your trembling hands didn’t exactly help your case but Cheol was kind enough to drop the subject.)

You weren't exactly sure how you managed to balance Vernon’s chocolate cake and Seokmin’s red velvet one but you did, even singing the birthday song when the boys in question processed what you were doing some few hours later when they walked in the front door. Once they made their wish and blew out the candles, Seokmin gleefully grabbed his cake and skipped to the table, sticking his finger into the frosting and licking it clean. He paraded across the room, showing it off to everyone and gloating that he had the bestest friend in the whole world. Hansol, merely took the cake with one hand and gave you a side hug as tightly as he could manage before Soonyoung intervened and grabbed the dessert so he could hug you with both.

“Happy birthday Hansol,” you whispered. “I hope this was okay.”

“Wait, this was you?”

“Well, I had help. I couldn’t have done this without your group mates.” You pulled away with a gasp. “Oh crap! I forgot your gift! I’m so sorry!”

“Why would you get me a gift after doing all this?”

“Because it’s your birthday.” 

“Did you get something for DK?”

The horrified look on your face told him everything he needed to know and he marched right up to his birthday twin who had somehow been able to find somewhere to sit and was currently stuffing his face with Junhui and you couldn’t tell who looked more like a chipmunk and you hoped someone would get a picture of these two looking like that because your heart multiplied. 

“Hey hyung?”

“Mmm?” He looked up at you, face full of frosting and he swallowed loudly. He scrambled for a napkin and wiped at the spots frantically. “Yeah?”

“So would you be bummed if we didn’t get gifts from our friend here?”

“The surprise party wasn’t a gift?” You had yet to get used to Seokmin’s naïtivty and his knack for being easily surprised.

Hansol shook his head. “Never mind. Enjoy your cake hyungdeul.” He turned back to you. “See? You don’t need to give us more than this.”

“So you like it?”

“I love y-” He froze the moment the words almost slipped out and just started coughing to thwart his speech, and didn’t speak again until you had given him some water. “Sorry...I meant to say that I love it. Thank you Y/N. I have the greatest friend in the world.” 

Various offended “heys” sounded throughout and he reiterated slightly. “Besides you guys.”

*

The fourth time he almost told you he loved you, you were in his car in your front yard after coming back from your first date together. You kept leaning over to the driver’s side and stealing kisses from him and all he could do was relish in them and kiss you back. 

“So has anyone ever made you this happy?” you asked him. 

He shook his head. “I can’t remember the last time I was like this.” He welcomed the warm feeling of your hand caressing his cheek gently. “Have you ever had this much fun?”

“Once,” you admitted. “I went to visit some friends and somehow we all stayed up past our normal bedtime just looking at the sky and feeling at peace. It wasn’t a big thing or anything, but it was just us, all the stars and all the wishes we made. A lot of them have come true since then.” You looked over at him, not saying more. “What’s the dumbest thing you ever wished for?”

He covered your hand with his before bringing it to his lips to kiss them repeatedly. “It wasn’t dumb but I remember putting it on my Christmas list every year. I just wanted to go back to New York. At least there, no one gave a shit if you were black, white, mixed, missing an eye or tooth or whatever.” He brought you close to him to kiss you again. “Why did you agree to go on a date with me?”

“I figured it was about time to be real with my feelings and you.” You smiled at him. “I’d been wanting to tell you for awhile, but you beat me to it.”

He nodded slowly, liking the answer. He leaned in for another kiss, but his phone ringing disturbed the moment, and just for that he ignored it. “I should get going. Can I walk you inside?”

When you nodded, he quickly removed his seatbelt and ran to the passenger side to open the door for you. As soon as you were out, he wrapped his arms around you, back hugging you and kissing your cheek. He finally felt like a rebellious teenager to be doing this with you. It was a little past curfew, you had to be up early and so did he, but he didn’t want this moment to end. He was even more in love with you than ever before.

“Hansol, you have to go,” you whined after you realized he didn’t plan on moving from that spot.

“A few more minutes,” he sighed. “I don’t wanna let you go just yet.”

“Either you do now, or Seungcheol will pry you away from me if you're not home in the next ten minutes.”

“I’m not scared of that grandpa.”

“You hear that Cheol?” 

And with that, his head snapped up, looking in all directions for the leader, already looking for words to excuse his actions. “You liar.”

“I thought you weren’t scared.”

“I’m not,” he pouted, but then he sighed. “Do we really have to say goodbye?”

“I don’t want you to go either.” You reached for his hand so he could finally walk you to your front door. “Hansol, thank you for tonight.”

“Anytime. Thank you for agreeing. I’ll call you soon, okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

He waited for you to unlock the door so you could go in and just as you were about to close the door, he called you.

“Yeah?”

“Sa-” The saranghae didn’t go past his throat; neither could the I love you, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Sleep well.”

*

The fifth time he almost told you he loved you, he had convinced you to sit on the roof with him at his house. You had long ago admitted to him that you had never seen a sunrise, so he vowed that the next time neither of you had plans, he was gonna invite you to Seventeen’s dorm to make you watch it. Two months later, it happened, and he spent the day making sure he had everything to spend the night up on the roof with you, and despite the chilly air, it was worth it. 

You sat in between his legs and he had his arms wrapped around you, often tightening around you every time he felt overcome with emotion. He would take your hand and trace a pattern in the sky with your finger and then tell you the name of the constellation. You offered him your earbuds sometime during the night, and you took turns listening to your favorite songs, singing along to all the words. 

Every time you could feel yourself nodding off, Hansol would gently shake you awake and offer you something to snack on so you could stay awake. “We’re almost there Jagi,” his hoarse voice would encourage you. “Just a little longer.” And then he would kiss your cheek and cuddle you a little more.

You were both blissfully unaware of the 12 other boys spying on you and seeing what you were currently doing. More often than not, someone had to stop Soonyoung from barging in and interrupting, but they quietly left out extra blankets and water bottles and other snacks by the window so neither of you would have to move much. 

Finally, the first few rays of sunlight came peeking through over the horizon. It wasn’t much at first, but then suddenly, the whole world seemed to wake up along with it. You could hear the birds chirping and the insects buzzing, and everything warming up. 

“What do you think?”

You nodded, finally closing your eyes and resting against his chest. “It’s beautiful,” you managed to mumble sleepily. Can we do this again?”

“As many times as you want,” he promised.

“Okay, good.”

He waited a little longer in case you had more to add, but the only thing he could feel was you breathing in and out deeply and evenly, finally fast asleep. “Hey Jagi, how would you feel if I told you I loved you?”

[kassamigos]

Date:  Sunday, April 26 2020

Time:  Approx. 18:30 

Location:  Sutton family’s apartment annex 

TL;DR  ( because this got unnecessarily long, per usual ) :   Kass makes up with Mama Sutton and finds out the truth about her dad, yay !

IT’S BEEN TWO WEEKS AND SIX DAYS SINCE KASS HAS TALKED TO HER MOTHER.  for some mother-daughter relationships, that may not be very long.  claire hadn’t talked to her mother for YEARS, and she had a feeling grayson and his own mother didn’t exactly talk daily.  but the sutton family had always been different ;   they were a small family, like val had pointed out days ago, and losing the patriarch of the family years ago had changed its dynamic forever.  they were close with one another, and above all, they had a policy of HONESTY with one another.  sure, there were some pieces of information laura sutton couldn’t provide her daughters with, especially as they became her pupils on top of everything else, but those instances happened so infrequently that kass and val knew to trust that when she said something was classified, it was good a good reason.

but two weeks and six days have gone by, and kass still can’t wrap her head around what the good reason could’ve been to make her mom lie about her father.

she had planned on approaching her mother earlier in the week.  being lectured by her younger sister nearly a week ago now had been MORTIFYING, but it did bring a sense of reality back to her life.  kass had always felt like the glue that needed to hold the family together, especially when her father had passed, and she had to look after val while their mother got used to her new position as president of gallagher academy.  but she hadn’t realized her sister still relied on her so much until val was quick to point out how kass hadn’t been there for her in her time of need, when they were BOTH going through the same issues.  she’d been so busy trying to ignore more drama in her life, she hadn’t stopped to think that maybe ignoring it wasn’t how to make it go away.

so yeah, it had taken val chastising her and some much needed advice  ( and a reunion )  from claire to finally gather the courage to talk to her mom.  she had considered texting val and asking if they wanted to do this together, but quickly decided against it.  if val was there, kass would be worried the entire time about HER feelings, so much so that she may hold back some of her own.  and kass is tired of holding back how she feels, especially to those who matter most.

cecil’s attack on more students and being taken into gallagher academy’s custody did, unfortunately, make it harder to get into contact with her mother. kass waits for the dust to settle before reaching out, but by the time sunday morning rolls along she realizes nearly a week has gone by since she decided to talk to her.  so before she can think twice about it, kass texts her mom and asks if she can come over for sunday dinner. laura sutton doesn’t even attempt to play coy, replying instantly.

sunday night dinners have been a tradition in the sutton family for years.  when kass and val were no longer young enough to need constant supervision, their mother had started spending more hours in her office -- therefore most evening dinners were classified as  ‘ fend for youself night. ‘   ( twelve year-old kass had become REALLY good at making mac and cheese. )   sunday night dinners became their way of making sure there was at least one night a week the three of them could sit down together as a family.  they’ve changed over the years ;   kass still remembers skyping into them during her first month at boarding school, and how quiet it had felt during her freshman year at gallagher, when val was still away at prep school.  now with the three of them under the same roof again, this year had been the first since kass was fourteen that family dinners were COMPLETE once more.

of course she knows val isn’t coming, but seeing only two place settings at the kitchen table brings back memories of this time last year, before her sister was enrolled at gallagher.   “ HI, HONEY. “  laura sutton’s voice is a lot more chipper than kass expects, considering it’s been almost three weeks since they’ve seen each other.  she’s leaning over dinner on the stove, which is never a good sign. kass’ mom has a lot of amazing qualities, but cooking isn’t one of them.  she must really be bringing out the big guns.   “ dinner will be ready in just five minutes.  how does stroganoff sound ? “ 

yep, the big guns.   “ sounds great, mom.  thanks. “   

the food is surprisingly good, which leads her to believe laura had someone from the kitchen staff cook for them earlier in the day, because there’s no way she did anything more than reheat it.  kass counts the minutes of silence that passes between them.  after twelve minutes, she’s the one to finally break.   “ when were you going to tell us about dad ? “   she drops her fork in her bowl, leaning back to look at her mother.  there’s no use beating around the bush ;   they both know why she’s there.

her mom only sighs, her gaze setting on the noodle twirling around her fork.  “ your father didn’t want you to know he was in this business, “   laura starts, bringing her napkin up to her mouth.   “ it was a choice we had decided early on, for a sense of normalcy for you girls.  i didn’t want to go against that. “ 

“ that’s not fair--- “   she starts, but is silenced with a small raise of her mother’s hand. 

“ PLEASE, kassandra.  i know you have questions, and i’m sorry you had to hear about it with the rest of the school.  but can you...  just listen first ? “     there’s so many things kass wants to say, but she reminds herself that she’s come hear specifically for ANSWERS.  so she nods mutely, giving her mother the floor.

laura sutton takes a deep breath, and for a moment kass can see how tired she truly is.  she knows this semester can’t be easy for her mother -- in a way it doesn’t matter who is murdering students, because no matter what it’s seen as a reflection on laura’s skills as a school president.  kass also remembers how her mom had barely left her office the entire week following the death of amelia and the lockdown. she had tried to cancel sunday dinner, but kass and val had brought dinner to her.  if there’s anything that gives kass peace of mind about being around for this god-awful semester, it’s that at least her and val are there to make sure someone’s taking care of the woman trying to take care of everyone else.

so the fact that they’ve both been ignoring her for so long, during some of the hardest weeks at gallagher to date...  well, it’s hard not to feel a little guilty about that.

“ as i’m sure you guessed by now, your father went to blackthorne, “   laura begins, and kass can immediately tell this isn’t an EASY conversation for her from the way her mom’s voice wavers ever-so-slightly.  her mother’s performed sting operations in foreign countries without batting an eye   ( or so she thinks -- it’s classified ) ,  but it’s the topic of kass’ dad that makes her falter.   “ it’s where we met, at a gala between blackthorne and gallagher.  he was a fourth year when i was a second. “  kass watches as a faraway smile forms on her mother’s face, a rare smile that’s only reserved for talk about her father.   “ he was a good man, kass.  i don’t want you to second guess anything about him because of what an email told you.  he loved you and your sister very much -- he just wanted you to have options outside of spy world.

“ the email wasn’t wrong.  he was in the brotherhood. “   kass feels her heart constrict at her mom’s words, because even though she knows facts don’t lie, she had been REALLY hoping they would.   “ blackthorne had been different back then.  honestly, i was surprised they even closed it last spring, because it wasn’t nearly as bad as when your father had went. it was more than just a poor living spaces -- the faculty really was terrible.  part of the reason i had taken this job to begin with was to make sure gallagher never became as bad as blackthorne had been. “   there’s a pregnant pause, and kass knows they’re thinking the same thing :   how cecil had technically been faculty when he killed two students this semester.  kass shifts nervously in her seat. 

“ blackthorne had a lot of unhappy graduates around that time, so it made sense that there were so many brotherhood members.  nobody who joined really knew how SERIOUS it was. “   the sutton girl feels her eyebrows push together, wondering why her mom suddenly sounds like a brotherhood apologist.   “ your father had only been nineteen when he joined, but by the time he realized how radical they were, it was too late.  they weren’t an organization you can walk away from. 

“ but he TRIED, kass. “   her mother leans forward in her seat, holding her hand out to reach for her daughter.  kass rests her arm on the table and lets their hands entwine together.   “ first for me, and then for you and val.  he eventually quit his agency job and worked as an accountant -- that hadn’t been a lie.  but the brotherhood wouldn’t let him leave.  so he...  worked with my agency and i, as a double agent to help take down the brotherhood.  it was with the help of him and a few others on the inside that the brotherhood was disbanded years ago. “   laura pauses, knowing this must be a lot of information to take in at once.  and IT IS -- kass feels her head buzzing and mind fogging, similar to the feeling she had when she had read her father’s name on the email three weeks ago.  it all just seems... a little too good to be true ? 

it’s the squeeze of her mother’s hand that brings her back to reality, along with her soothing tone.   “ he also...  didn’t die in a car crash, “   laura sutton says after a moment, and suddenly every inch of kass’ skin feels hot and cold at the same time.   “ even with most of the organization killed or behind bars, he wasn’t safe. they were still able to... “   she can’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t need to.  hot tears begin to fall down kass’ cheeks, a hand clamping over her mouth.  she doesn’t remember being eight years old and finding out her father isn’t returning home, but somehow, kass feels like she’s lost him all over again.

“ why didn’t you tell me ?  tell us ? “   she says when she finds her voice again, tone HARDER than she means it to be.  kass instantly feels bad seeing her mother wince.   “ as soon as you knew this was the brotherhood, you should’ve known this would come out. “ 

it takes awhile for her mom to answer, and kass uses this time to break away from her mother’s hold and take a much needed gulp of water.  when her gaze finds her again, she sees her mom’s crying.   “ i’m sorry you had to find out this way, “   laura whispers, and now they’re BOTH crying all over again.   “ i had intended to tell you girls, but none of it had been confirmed until valentine’s day.  and then the lockdown had happened, and you lost your friend, and... the timing just wasn’t great. “  she hesitates for a moment, before adding,   “ and i suppose i was scared to, as well.  i didn’t want you thinking any less of your father.  he died a HERO, kass.  he did everything for us. “

the stroganoff sitting on the table is getting cold, but neither of the sutton women care.  later that evening they’ll watch a movie together, catch up on the past three weeks they’ve missed, and kass will text her sister telling her to call mom.  but for now she settles on her mother’s lap -- something she hasn’t done since she was a little girl -- and the two cling to each other, the way kass knows family is meant to.

[trylonandperisphere]

ASK POLLY APR. 1, 2020

‘I Don’t Think I Can Handle 18 Months of Isolation’

By Heather Havrilesky

Hi Polly.

So the world’s falling apart. I’m seeing quotes from experts that predict this will go on for 18 months or more. I don’t think I can stand the stress and isolation all that time. I have mental-health challenges, so I think I might crack. And I’m not sure our infrastructure can endure it either. I have a medical condition that’s stable and doesn’t put me in danger of COVID-19. However, I worry the strain on the health-care system will take away my treatment, leading to a slow death. And then there are the usual worries about things like food. Will the supply chains hold up six months or a year from now? How do you see all this happening and not start looking for an exit? I’m willing to admit that I’m weak or entitled. People around the world deal with this all the time. I don’t think I have it in me. How do I find some strength and hope?

Feeling Weak

Dear Feeling Weak,

On any day of your life, a million terrible things could happen. Every morning, you have to force all of the awful possibilities out of your mind. You do this because there is no alternative.

I’ve always been a very fearful person. I’ve always been sensitive to the fragility of the human body and the myriad ways lives can be ripped apart. My dad died when I was 25 years old, and it made me even more fearful. Then I had a baby.

Imagining all of the bad things that could happen to the baby almost sent me over the edge. I felt like someone had removed my liver and now I had to hand my liver over to other people, and ask them not to drop it or neglect it.

One day I came home, and my husband was holding my liver in one hand while stirring a boiling pot with his other hand, all the while talking to my stepson in an animated, cheerful fashion.

I freaked out. “You are going to kill me,” I said. “Calm down,” he said. “Stop being so overdramatic.”

My heart started racing even more (Pro tip: The words “calm down” are never calming!), but I washed my hands and then took the baby away from my husband. And then through gritted teeth, I said something like this: “You are going to listen to me very closely. Don’t talk. Just listen. I am in a very, very particular, unfamiliar, fragile place. I have never felt this way before. I’m going to have to describe it to you. You are going to have to listen. You do not have to understand or believe that I am remotely sane. You can continue to believe that I am irrational. But if you do not listen closely and respect and honor my needs around this fragile feeling, this marriage will end. Period. This is not negotiable.”

I wasn’t someone who threatened to end my marriage, ever, just to be clear about that. I needed to communicate clearly that we were on perilous terrain.

We retreated to the bedroom and talked for a long time. I told him what I needed in order to raise a baby with him. He told me the reasons he thought I was nuts. I told him that I was fine with him thinking I was nuts. He could continue to do that. Of course my views were not utterly rational. Rational was not the point. Calming down was not the point. He needed to understand how high the stakes were for me. Even if there was a .0001 chance that my baby would drop into the boiling water, the stakes were too high for me to endure those odds. He didn’t have to understand my feelings, he just had to operate as if he had the same feelings, for my sake.

It took a lot of persuasive talk, and tears, to get my husband on my side. It was exhausting. But by the end of our talk, my husband got it. He agreed to behave in ways that were guided by high stakes and my irrational feelings and to never say the words “Calm down” to a woman whose liver you’re holding. And if ALL OF THAT sounds nuts to you, that’s okay. These were the conditions I knew I required in order to raise a baby with someone who was more careless than I was in every way. These were the things I needed in order to share a house with this man and trust him to raise a family with me.

After that, I felt better. And my husband never told me to calm down when I described the toddlers who get left in the car or run over by a clueless grandparent backing out of the driveway. He took on the low-odds possibilities until he was worrying about them himself. I turned him into a slightly neurotic, hyperaware parent. I formed him into a seismograph, in my image. Call it twisted, I don’t give a fuck. It worked. We were aligned. We fought less. We kept our kids relatively safe from harm. Maybe we became obnoxious. Maybe we were paranoid. I still don’t care. I didn’t feel alienated and alone in my marriage, because I dared to get very, very specific about my needs.

And once I knew I had someone on my side, I started to calm the fuck down. I made a resolution to keep all of the looming threats in mind without INTERNALIZING and VISUALIZING and LOSING SLEEP OVER the millions of ways a baby could die or become injured. Any time I went from safeguarding my kids to picturing something awful happening to them, I learned to stop myself.

Doing your best to avoid disaster is practical. Repeatedly imagining disaster, on the other hand, is wildly impractical. Once I realized how jittery and anxious I was feeling, I steadfastly refused to indulge my imagination when it came to my baby. I resolved not to become a pile of nerves quivering on the floor. I wanted to breathe and feel happiness and survive parenting without being transformed into a shadow of my former self. I wanted my kids to be aware of danger but not paralyzed by fear at all times.

Mistakes have been made, that goes without saying. But the decision to never fixate on terrifying outcomes when it came to my kids was very important. I could still fixate on bad outcomes FOR ME. But that was (and is) a world apart from doing it about my kids. Eventually I didn’t have to try anymore. The second I pictured something terrible, it was just: NO. CAN’T.

Everyone is different. Everyone experiences different conditions as threatening or scary or paralyzingly awful. We all have to respect these differences while relentlessly standing up for our own needs and asking for exactly what we want from the people who are closest to us. That means becoming a tiny bit shameless, I should add. It took a shameless amount of assertiveness and belief in my own particular sensitivities as a seismograph to ask my husband to behave as if he, too, were a seismograph. I had to get very specific. I also had to let go of the need to be right and seem rational. I had to own my role as the Chicken Little of the family.

“Pretend the sky is falling with me,” I told my husband, and he did. It was an act of love and solidarity. I was so grateful for it. It kept us glued together at a vulnerable time, when we could’ve fallen apart for good. I didn’t have to hate myself for being a chickenshit or a seismograph. I could relax because someone was on my side.

That story probably feels pretty divorced from your circumstances, but it’s not. For you to feel comfortable safeguarding yourself while also refusing to fixate on the millions of horrible outcomes that could befall you specifically and all of us generally, you need to stand up for the particulars of your mental health. You need to look closely at your specific emotional challenges as a human being, and you need to say: This is how it feels for me. I feel like I want to find an exit. I feel like I can’t survive this. I feel like I am not strong enough.

Here’s the suicide hotline for anyone who’s been feeling that way: 1-800-273-8255. Commit to reaching out to someone when you’re feeling bad. Everyone is struggling right now. We’re all in the same boat at some level. It’s important to understand that moments of extreme darkness will come and go, and things could get a million times worse and still be survivable. Put your faith in human connection: It makes all the difference.

If you have close friends or a partner or a family member who can listen to you describe your very specific Chicken Little–flavored needs and desires and align themselves with you, and show solidarity for your (sometimes irrational!) experiences of what this moment means, then call that person or those people. Open up to them, and explain your needs, and get them to understand.

But let’s be clear: Finding people who will join you where you are is very, very hard. It’s hard for all of us, always. If it feels impossible? Guess what? You’re not alone. Try your best. And if/when that fails, I want you to write everything down for you, until you clearly comprehend who you are and where you are and how you’re feeling right now.

This is not about descending into darkness in any permanent way, mind you. This is simply about painting a picture that someone else might understand, a persuasive portrait of how you’re experiencing this moment. This is you saying to yourself: YOU ARE HOLDING MY LIVER OVER A BOILING POT OF WATER. This is you crying and telling yourself: I DON’T KNOW IF I CAN DO THIS. DO YOU FUCKING GET THAT?

This is you making your needs crystal clear. This is you standing up for who you are, without shame. Does that really matter, all alone in your apartment as the world crumbles around you? YES, IT DOES.

This is you saying: I deserve to have my needs met. Think about all of the times you were treated like your needs were irrational, like you needed to calm down and shut the fuck up, like you needed to stop being so in the way, so inconvenient, so absurd, so laughable, such a wreck. I’ll bet you can think of a lot of examples.

Use this moment to get your own back. Take this opportunity to say to yourself: I don’t fucking care if I’m fragile and irrational. I’m going to honor my needs without shame.

Don’t skip this step, even if it seems beside the point. Honor your needs, without shame. That’s number one.

Number two is: Protect yourself. Take very good care of yourself. Feed yourself well, exercise, get plenty of rest. Stay aware of the threats so you can do your best to avoid those threats. Put energy into making yourself feel as healthy and resilient as possible.

Number three is: Resolve not to fixate on the millions of terrifying possibilities you cannot control. You can make this choice now because your peculiar needs matter. Remember? You’re honoring your needs without shame now. One of your needs is this: Avoiding the terror here. You said it to me for a reason: You aren’t strong enough to hold these terrors inside your head for 18 months. So don’t do it.

Are you strong enough to survive for 18 months in isolation? Yes, you are. You’re strong enough as long as you’re honoring even your most irrational needs without shame, being very safe and careful in areas that are within your control, and letting go of all of the circumstances beyond your control, as in banishing them from your fucking head permanently.

Cormac McCarthy’s The Road (Read it if bleakness makes you feel stronger. If not? DO NOT READ.) is about a man who’s struggling to survive in a post-apocalyptic world. As the man and his son travel south toward the ocean, looking for food and shelter, the man tries hard to avoid big questions and unknowns that might threaten his ability to survive. Because he has a boy to take care of, he becomes extremely practical. He protects his boy and he keeps moving forward, no matter what. There’s a sense of calm beauty underneath the horror of every word McCarthy writes. Showing up for whatever comes next is beautiful. You don’t have to be a hero. You just keep moving.

I probably wouldn’t have sat my husband down and insisted that my irrational view was going to need to be honored, back when we first had a baby together, if I weren’t convinced that our ability to raise a baby and stay together depended on it. It took something bigger than myself to force me to finally stand up for my very specific needs and persuade another, very skeptical human being to hear me out and get my back.

Today, you’ve been faced with a challenge that’s much bigger than any challenge you’ve faced before. The stakes are high. This enormous calamity dwarfs you and exists outside your thoughts and feelings completely. You have to treat yourself with extreme care under these conditions. This is an opportunity for you to finally stand up for what you need at every level, in a very concentrated and intense way that is fully justifiable and concrete. This is a chance for you to design a map that you can use to navigate this disaster and every other disaster to follow this one, guided by your very irrational, specific desires. This is your time to learn to blot out the parts of the world that are just too gigantic and out of your control for you to metabolize, and focus on what you can actually control and have influence over instead. You have to avoid big questions and keep moving forward. You’re about to achieve a sense of mastery over your life and your understanding of yourself, while letting go of what you can’t control in a permanent way. These high stakes are a blessing disguised as a curse. Take this blessing.

What sustains you? What can you create, every day, to bring you life, to build up your strength? What beauty is lurking underneath these terrors? As Ranier Maria Rilke wrote, “No feeling is final.”

The path before you is simple. You wake up in the morning and you put Chopin: Nocturnes in your headphones and you look for joy. You embrace every tiny glint of beauty and every scrap of hope hiding in this small, enclosed life. You surrender to the reality of this “borrowed time and borrowed world and borrowed eyes with which to sorrow it,” as Cormac McCarthy put it. You eat this divine silence, this dark longing, this lonely sweetness, this solitary dread. You sit in your quiet garden and welcome the weather, good or bad. No feeling is final. You are strong enough.

Polly

[acrobaticcatfeline]

Logan and His Little Bumble Bee (Single Dads AU)!!!

Word Count: 2170

TW: Breakup mention, uhhh, Logan has a major distaste for his ex? Oh Logan is pan in this and his ex is a female. Minor character death mention, bad self care, I think that’s it? And most of that is in the second paragraph and doesn’t come up again, but let me know if I missed anything!

Notes: This was produced in spite of my brain not wanting to create. I have a week off I’m not letting it go to waste stupid writers block! Pardon me as I go do... more research and writing for the hogwarts au fic I’m writing. I hope y’all enjoy this!!!

Pairings: past Logan and a female unnamed character that I suppose I will have to make now, slight mentions of pining logicality, familial logince, familial moxiety

Summary: “Roman darling, we have to wash your prince outfit ok?” logan sanders is having a heck of a month you know? suddenly hes a parent and has a promotion and honestly its the most stressed hes been since he was in college but you know he gets moments like these sometimes where he can just hold his little bee and maybe things will be alright.

“Roman darling, we have to wash your prince outfit ok?”

Judging by the screams, it was not ok, and Logan was at the point of sticking himself in the washing machine. He’s tired and the past month of his life has been hell. Last month his ex-girlfriend dropped Roman off at his house as a surprise. Yeah imagine how surprised you’d be to now be the sole guardian of a child you didn’t know existed because your ex was petty enough to keep it from you until she got bored of him 2 years later. So he became a father in a matter of minutes, he got a promotion at work, but that involved working more hours, leaving him with the problem of how the hell was he going to be taking care of a 2 year old when he had work usually 10 hours a day instead of what he used to do. Then he had a bomb dropped that his uncle died. That was… not easy news to take for certain. It was worse that his funeral was halfway across the country, meaning he couldn’t go, and he was stuck at work with a baby and was mourning the loss of his family member and at this point he wasn’t sure if he was able to take it anymore. He hadn’t had a full nights sleep in two weeks, he hasn’t eaten properly for just about that long as well, eating fast food on his way to work every day, usually having coffee for lunch and having something weird thrown together from what he has in his house which for the past week has been cheese ramen while his kid gets the perfect diet because yes, he’s currently a hot mess of the highest caliber, but he refused to let himself be bested by a toddler. He refused to let his ex be a better parent than him, which just so happened to make him love the kid out of spite. And that’s how he got here.

“roro, please? I’ll let you wear your bee onesie?”

And the screams stopped in their tracks. Thank god, Logan had already taken the largest dose of ibuprofen he allowed, and he could still feel the migraine approaching. The baby boy in question was sitting in the grass in Logan’s backyard, playing with some dolls and cars. He turned towards Logan and started crawling over to the tired man sitting in the grass. When he got to him, he sat again and reached up with grabby hands, signaling he wanted to be picked up. Logan obliged, swooping up the little kid and starting to stand up. Roman poked Logan’s cheek softly before planting a big kiss there. He smiled widely, very proud of himself, and Logan felt his cold unfeeling heart melt at the sight.

“oh gosh how could she have given you up. Even if you are a little terror sometimes,” he pinched Roman’s cheek softly with a smile as the little one giggled cutely. “you’re still so sweet and cute. Yes, you are Ro! So sweet and cute! Just like a little bee huh? Ready to be a little bee roro?”

The toddler giggled loudly and nodded before making a grab for Logan’s glasses. Logan quickly twirled him upside down for a moment before swooping him back up.

“no no no! no grabbing dads glasses Ro! I can’t see without those! No no, but we can play with yours okay? You want your glasses?”

Logan had made it into his old office, now a nursery for Ro, and grabbed his bee onesie and his fake glasses that Roman loved to play with. He sat Roman down and changed him rather quickly, luckily once Logan convinces him to listen, Ro is very obedient and behaves very well. He’s a good kid, Logan gets livid thinking about what possible reason she had for giving him up. He picks up Roman again, laughing slightly when Roman tries to wrap his tiny arms around his neck. He quickly grabs Roman’s prince outfit and drops it in the wash with the rest of his clothes, starting it finally.

“what do you wanna do little buzz boy? You wanna go to the park? I have time to go to the park. Hasn’t your sitter taken you before? Do you like the park Robee? Hmm?”

Roman giggles and nods. Logan feels a slight tinge of sadness at the simple response. Roman was 2 years old and babies were supposed to be able to say things that sounded like words by 18 months old. Roman never spoke, he giggled and nodded and shook his head, and understood what Logan said, but he never tried to speak back. The bitter part of him wanted to blame his ex, pretend it was her bad nurturing that led Roman to choosing not to speak, but he knew rationally that sometimes kids had speech impairment and wouldn’t start talking until maybe even 3, but it still worried Logan. Everything he read said it might be autism, but he had his doubts as he worked with autism regularly and had to be well versed with the DSM-5 for his career. He would often repeat words a lot, say the words for what Ro wanted, hoping that he would at least say something. He was going to go to pre k this year, but Logan didn’t feel ok with sending him off to school without any form of communication. That was a set up for something to go wrong, what if the other kids teased him? What if the teachers were bad to him! He would have no way of knowing! That terrified Logan, so he decided he would wait. He had enough money to hire a sitter for another few years while he helped Roman speak. He did fear that he would miss his first words, but he had to work, if he didn’t there was a lot of things he would do instead of… being in Florida psychoanalyzing people all day.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves his job, but it was stressful, and he was regularly reminded that just because he’s a qualified professional, doesn’t mean he isn’t more similar to his patients than he was comfortable with addressing.

Logan grabbed his baby bag, refilling whatever the sitter had used the day prior. He strapped Roman into the backpack sling he had, put it on so Roman sat on his chest, preferring being able to actually see his kid, and grabbed the bag and a few other things, being his phone, wallet, and keys. The park was a short walk away and his weekend adventures with Roman were usually the most exercise he got during the week, so he slowly made his way there, stopping occasionally to make a silly face at ro.

“you wanna go to the playground Ro? Or the field?”

Roman held up 2 fingers, and there it is again. Yeah Roman may not talk, but he definitely understands what he’s saying. He’s a really intelligent kid, and Logan may or may not be ridiculously proud of him. They found a rather quiet area in the field and Logan took off the sling and let Roman out of it, letting him wander around. Roman pressed on Logan’s leg softly to help him stand up. He then takes off running, and Logan stays seated, watching his little bumble bee play. Its not until he hears someone clear their throat next to him that he sees another man, a quite handsome man actually, with a baby that seems to have a question. He stands hurriedly.

“oh my, I'm sorry I zoned out a bit I'm running on 2 hours of sleep please forgive me, is there something I can help you with?”

“oh yeah! Oh, sorry to disturb you, you do seem exhausted. Um I was just wondering if you know whose little boy that is? My kiddo is being fussy and wants to play but I always want to check with the parents first, heheh!”

“huh? Oh, that one over there is mine, if your son wants to play, I'm sure my Roman would be happy to join him! How old’s your little one?”

The other mans smile widens and he sits down, letting his son go off to play with Roman. Logan sits down next to him.

“oh, my little Virgil? He’s almost 4! Also, hello, my name is Patton! How old’s Roman?”

“nice to make your acquaintance Patton, I'm Logan. My son is a little older than 2.”

“aww! Really, I thought he was at least 3! He’s pretty big for his age, he looks strong and healthy!”

Roman and Virgil come running over, and Roman is giggling heavily and runs straight into Logan’s arms eliciting a small ‘oof’ from Logan as he wrapped his arms around his child. Virgil also was giggling as he ran into Patton's grasp much faster, knocking them both over. He looked over concerned but lost the worry as he saw Patton laying down and laughing twice as hard as Virgil was, hair sprawled around his head and oh hey there's Logan’s gay showing oof. He turned away, hiding his face in a hug with Roman.

Of course, Roman had to be the curious tike he is right then, pulling out of the hug and patting Logan’s cheeks in confusion. He poked and prodded and pinched because he was Logan’s little scientist and that’s how you figure out things you’re confused by. Logan had a mind to be embarrassed but gosh his Roman is just so cute and curious and man he loves him.

“daddy daddy!!! He’s so funny, he doesn’t talk but he’s funny!!! He’s like me!!! can we play again later?”

Patton sits up, and Logan restrains himself from pulling the leaf out of his hair.

“aw we have to ask his dad first but maybe! Logan, could we set up a playdate later?”

Heck Logan stop being gay for a second, staring at him is creepy, answer him you doofus!

“uh, yeah sure! Ro seemed to enjoy himself, so why not. I only have weekends off, but he has a babysitter that would love to have another thing to do with the little bug. Um, here, let me give you my number and theirs.”

Logan quickly repositioned Roman so he could reach into his baby bag for a pen and paper. He quickly scrawled it out then handed it to Patton.

“oh, you’re left handed? Neat so am I! can I see that paper too? I should probably give you my number so Ro’s sitter knows it.”

Logan hands it over and a few minutes later Patton's phone starts going off.

“oh geez that’s my alarm, I gotta go, some family is visiting for the weekend, it was nice meeting you Logan! I look forward to seeing you and your itsy-bitsy bug boy again! Bye bye Roman! Virgil say bye!”

“BYE ROMAN BYE LOGAN!!!”

And they turn and leave, and Logan lets himself watch for a few short seconds before turning back to Roman. Roman’s face becomes a smile again and he hugs Logan tightly.

“what's up bug? You wanna keep playing or do you wanna go home and take a nap with dad?”

And Roman giggles and hides in his chest before-

“DAD!!! Play dad!!!”

And Logan can feel his jaw drop and he has to quickly fix his expression because Roman starts looking shy.

“Roman! You just! Oh my god you just said your first words!!! Roman I'm so proud of you my little love bug!!!”

And Roman smiles widely again and bounces up and down.

“bug!!! Bee bug!!!”

“yes Roman, yes bees are bugs oh I love you so much roro I'm so happy! You make dad so happy roro!”

“happy dad!!!”

“I, I need to tell your mom! She’ll be so proud of you Ro just like me!”

“noooo! No mom! Mom… mom bad!”

And Logan’s face drops. He swoops up Roman and hugs him tight. He doesn’t want Roman to think that, his mom, his mom still loved him, he’s sure of it… she was being responsible and having someone else take care of him… or at least that’s what Roman should think.

“no, no Roman she… Roman she loves you so much you know that. She’s not bad she’s just not ready to take care of you.”

“you too! You too but… I… here. You here. Mom bad. Mom gone.”

And if Logan started crying that was no one’s business but his own. Besides, this wasn’t the time, right now he had to deal with a ridiculously self-aware 2-year-old.

They would play in the grass for another hour, and Logan would blink the tears in his eyes away and prepare to have one heck of a conversation with his ex when they got home. Right now, though? Right now, he was reveling in the short amount of time he had with his son.

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my writing!!!

Thank you for reading I will see you later ladies lords and nonbinary royalty!!!

[write-havoc]

Of Sons and Daughters Ch 14

Summary: Arthur is tasked by Dutch to watch over a young woman who had just lost the last member of her family she had left. That young woman just so happens to be the daughter that Dutch told no one else about.

This is a non canon AU with no major spoilers

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character

Status: Ongoing

Contains: swearing, PG 13 smut

Intended for readers 18+ of age only

Masterlist in my bio

There’s an air of tension as the couple rides away from Shady Belle. Despite the fact that Emmeline still doesn’t know exactly what happened between Arthur and Dutch, she isn’t eager to bring it up just yet. Arthur has never been that great with opening up emotionally, and it’s obvious by the look on his face that he’s very upset. It’s quite possible that forcing him into the conversation before he’s ready could make matters worse, which Emmeline certainly doesn’t want to do.

Before too long, they ride up to a small stone cabin nestled in amongst some trees. It’s a little run down, but not at all in horrible shape. It’s actually quite quaint, if Emmeline were forced to put a word to it.

“You know who lives here?” she asks as Arthur helps her dismount from Miss Susie. 

“Some family did,” he answers while the two approach the front of the house. “But they ain’t coming back.” He opens the door to allow Emmeline to go inside, but makes no move to close it behind them.

She walks into the stuffy cabin and looks around. It’s only one room, counters and stove along the back wall with a small living area directly in front of the door they’ve just gone through. There are two lofts on each side accessible by ladders, which she supposes could be where the family slept as there are no other rooms. “How do you know they’re not coming back?”

After he opens the side door to let more fresh air in, he turns back to her. “I found ‘em all dead a while ago. Suffocated from that.” He points to the noticeable crack in the stovepipe off to his right. “Smoked ‘em out, I guess.”

“That’s awful,” Emmeline whispers. “Those poor people.”

“I buried them out back after I found ‘em. It looked like they was dead several days. And no one came around, so I assume they ain’t got no other family. We should be alright to stay here for a while.” He walks over to the stove and begins to study it. “I gotta fix this up so we can eat, though. Don’t wanna smoke ourselves out, too.”

Emmeline just nods, allowing Arthur to get to work in silence. While he does that, she finds a broom in the corner and starts to sweep out the dust lingering on the floor. As she tidies up, she finds a children’s book on a little end table beside a rocking chair. The sight brings tears to her eyes. Arthur had said it was a family that had died here. That apparently meant children, too. The only solace she can find in the situation is that at least Arthur buried them properly and they’re at peace now together.

As the sun sets and with the cabin as clean and fixed up as it can be at the moment, they settle in. Arthur’s repair job on the stovepipe does the trick and they make their dinner without any incident. While they eat, that pervasive awkward silence of the day still surrounds them. Emmeline knows that Arthur is hurting and it’s obvious he’s trying to avoid the topic of his exile as he continues to stare down at his plate.

Finally, he decides to say something. “The ride wasn’t too much for you, was it?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“I just... I heard women with child shouldn’t be on horses much.”

“I feel just fine,” she answers with a little chuckle, then decides this might be a proper segue into the conversation they’ve been avoiding. “Are you alright, Arthur?”

He looks up at her concerned face and lets out a heavy breath. “No. I don’t reckon I am,” he answers honestly.

She reaches over the table to place her hand on his, hoping to portray that it’s okay to talk with her. “What is it? What happened?”

With a heavy sigh, he decides to answer, figuring he’s put it off long enough. “You heard Dutch. He don’t wanna see me anymore.” The emotion he tries to hide bleeds through regardless, making the last words choked.

“I don’t understand. Why would he say that?”

Arthur hesitates, but pushes forward. “He wanted me to go with him on some job and I told him no.” He shakes his head. “Maybe I shoulda just went,” he mutters into his chest as regret starts to build. 

“Why’d you say no?”

He looks up at her, his eyes glassy of their own accord. “It seemed too dangerous. And-“ he clears his throat. “And I told him I didn’t wanna get myself killed cuz you was pregnant. That’s... when he got really angry. Literally threw me outta the room.”

Emmeline is shocked at the revelation because she thought she has been building a real relationship with Dutch. He had seemed so proud to have her as a daughter and she was actually looking forward to telling him of his upcoming grandchild. The fact that he reacted so poorly has her dumbstruck. She truly thought he’d be happy about it.

“That’s- He got angry because of the baby?”

Arthur nods, trying to steel himself. “Nearest I can figure.” He shakes his head. “He never really did want me with you. He punched me in the face when he first found out. Guess he never thought I was good enough. And apparently I ain’t his family ,” he seethes, Dutch’s final words to him repeating in his head. 

Emmeline, when you come to your senses and leave him, you’ll be welcomed back. You always will. You’re family .

Dutch chose his words carefully; Arthur is sure of that. Stressing that Emmeline is his family also stressed that Arthur isn’t . 

Emmeline shakes her head in disagreement. “I don’t know why he said that. Of course you’re good enough. And just because you ain’t his blood don’t mean you ain’t his family. He should consider you his family, more so than anyone else. Especially me. I haven’t even known him that long.”

He shrugs and looks away, not trusting his own voice to refute her claim. 

“Look at me, Arthur.”

Reluctantly, he does. And as he lifts his head, a tear escapes, tracking down his cheek to disappear into his beard. With that first tear, his resolve to keep everything held back crumbles into a million pieces. 

“All them years,” he chokes out softly, but soon grows in intensity. “Twenty years of doing everything he’s ever asked of me. You know how many beatings I took? How many bullets? How many nights in jail after getting caught doing what he told me to do.” He stands from his chair to start pacing, feeling as if his bones want to jump out of his skin. “Since I met him, all I ever wanted to be was him. What now?!” He turns to her. “He threw me away! Like I was nuthin’ ! All them times he called me son...” He shakes his head as more tears fall. “I love him like a father. How can he put a gun to my head and tell me he never wants to see me again?!”

The weight of those words finally becomes unbearable and he crumbles to his knees in a fit of tears. It’s as if every bad emotion he’s ever bottled away rises to the surface and he’s powerless to do anything but cry openly. All those doubts and fears that he’d get the people he cares about killed. The insecurities he’s felt as a man that could never keep a woman. The guilt of all the people he’s hurt. All of it weighs down on him like a pile of bricks.

Emmeline is quick to go to him to offer what comfort she can. “Please, Arthur. I hate seeing you like this,” she says as she rubs his back. “I don’t know why Dutch would do what he’s done... But I bet he’ll see that he was wrong. Because he is wrong, Arthur. You are a good man. Good enough for me and everybody else.” She takes ahold of his face and tilts it to look at her. “Maybe it don’t mean much, but I love you, Arthur. I love you and our baby and whatever life we have together. We have our whole future ahead of us. So please don’t be sad. I just want you to be happy.”

It’s not that easy, of course. He knows he can’t just shut off the betrayal that he feels deep within his soul over Dutch’s actions. Or the loss of being away from all the people that he considered his family. But hearing that Emmeline, such an innocent, good person actually loves him, makes him feel a little better. And her genuine effort to comfort him in this state adds to that. He’s never been one to show others when he’s felt emotional, hating how vulnerable he’s felt, so no one has ever been there for him in this way. 

One other time in his life when he was young, soon after he joined Dutch and Hosea, did he breakdown like this. He had tried to wander off, so the two older men wouldn’t see him. But Hosea followed. And Arthur spilled his guts. About missing his mother, hating his father. About how he was beaten and stolen from while living on the streets. How he was afraid that Hosea and Dutch would leave him alone again once they see that he wasn’t worth the time. Hosea, of course, patted his back and said all the right things, calming him down and showing that he did care for him. And he insisted that Dutch cared for him, too. And Arthur believed that, truly. Had Dutch changed so much over time? Or had he just used him and his loyalty, never really caring for him?

Overcome with it all, Arthur wraps his arms around Emmeline tightly and holds her to him, trying to accept the comfort she provides. And for most of the night, they stay wrapped in each other’s arms.

Over the next few days, they have many more discussions, trying their best to make sense of everything. Every one of the talks is painful for Arthur, but it’s necessary for him. He begins to realize just how much he’s lived for Dutch during his life. And just how much he hasn’t lived for himself. When Arthur flippantly suggests that Dutch always hated to be out of control, Emmeline realizes that Dutch had been very subtly trying change her opinion of Arthur. She hadn’t given it much thought at the time, but the older man had always made sure to add little criticisms of Arthur when they talked. He never framed them as such, acting like they were innocuous little details, but they really weren’t. When she asks is Dutch could really be that manipulative, Arthur tells her that he certainly could be. 

“Do you think that’s why he did it?” she asks as they lay on their bedrolls one night. “He just hated the thought of you having something outside of the gang? Outside of himself?”

Arthur shrugs a shoulder and turns to face her. “I think it’s possible,” he admits the painful truth. “He always loved bein’ the one everyone relied on, the one everyone looked up to. Maybe he was afraid I’d leave with you and he’d see that as going against him.”

But maybe not. Arthur will never know until he can talk with Dutch again. And he’s not sure if that’s ever going to happen. 

During these days, the couple lives mostly like they had back at Emmeline’s house. Arthur spends time cutting firewood and hunting, which helps keep his mind off of things. Emmeline does her part by tending the house, as well as taking care of the chickens that they managed to wrangle and keep in the pen beside the house.

Away from the prying eyes of the gang, Emmeline doesn’t have to try so hard to hide her swollen belly. It’s still barely noticeable under her clothes, but she rather likes being free to rest her hands on her bump knowing that no one will notice. Even Arthur takes the opportunity to talk to the baby every once in a while, which Emmeline enjoys. Their isolation also means they’re more open to be affectionate with one another. It’s surprising to Emmeline just how much Arthur seeks her out for physical comfort now. She’s unsure if it’s because he is still somewhat emotional about everything, or if this is simply how he is when he doesn’t have to worry about others. Regardless, she has no complaints about the extra hugs and kisses.

It’s a bright and clear day when Arthur spies a wagon headed their way. He’s just about ready to tell Emmeline to go inside, fearful of who would seek them out, when he recognizes the riders and the two horses trailing behind.

Emmeline recognizes them, too. “Is that Hosea?” she asks with her eyes squinted, though before she gets the phrase completely out, she’s sure it’s him. She sends off a hopeful smile to Arthur, assuming Hosea has been true to his word about convincing Dutch to change his mind.

Once the wagon is close enough, Arthur calls out with a wave. “You found us.”

Hosea casts his eyes to the man sitting next to him in the driver’s seat atop the wagon. “Thank Charles. Somehow he tracked you lot. Must be the Indian in him.”

“I just remembered Arthur talking about this place.” Charles dismounts and rounds the wagon to help Hosea out of his seat. “Not too much tracking in it.”

Emmeline is first to notice how slow the older man is moving. “Are you hurt, Hosea?”

Arthur narrows his eyes at him and rushes to help him off the wagon as well. “What happened?” he’s quick to ask, alarm bells sounding in his head.

“Let’s go inside,” Hosea starts as soon as his feet are on the ground. He gestures to a cane up in the footwell of the seat and Charles hands it to him readily. “I’ll explain everything.”

Once Hosea starts to hobble into the small building (having refused any more help), it becomes obvious to Arthur that it’s Hosea’s right leg that has been injured, though he’s unsure exactly how. Instead of outright asking about it, though, he waits for Hosea to explain on his own. Once everyone is sat around the kitchen table, Hosea starts his tale.

“Dutch went ahead with that heist,” he starts plainly. 

“Jesus Christ,” Arthur mutters as he scrubs his hand down his too long beard. Of course Dutch did. And Arthur assumes it didn’t go according to plan since Hosea is hurt.

The older man continues. “Bill and Javier volunteered readily. Sean, too, the fool.” Hosea shakes his head as he casts his gaze to the table.

Charles jumps in. “I was there... I just wanted to make sure no one died.” He adds, looking to Arthur, almost pleadingly. “I don’t agree with what Dutch did and I thought the job was a bad idea, same as you. The only reason I went was to try to get everyone back safe.”

Arthur nods to the man. He wouldn’t fault him for being loyal to Dutch, but he trusts what he’s saying. Charles was always a good friend to him. 

“John outright refused to be a part of it,” Hosea blurts out.

That surprises Arthur. “Really?”

“Yeah. Dutch went to him right after...” Hosea takes in a heavy breath in lieu of finishing that statement. “John may not be the best at showing it, but he’s always looked up to you as his brother. What Dutch did... Most everyone was put off by it, John most of all. No one really said it, but I could tell. People made themselves scarce when it came time to assign jobs in that heist. Lenny went along with his role, thinking since it was his tip, he needed to follow through. But I convinced Dutch to let the boy help me out with the diversion instead of going to the bank itself.” After that, he pauses to order his thoughts.

Emmeline leans in, her curiosity and impatience getting the better of her. “So what happened?”

Hosea takes another moment before answering. “The police were ready for us, just like you thought,” he says to Arthur with a heavy breath. “I had a wagon full of fireworks sitting across town to try to draw them away from the bank. Once me and Lenny set them off, the cops were on us quick. Too quick. They must’ve had even more than we thought stationed all over the city, waiting for something to happen. I took a bullet to the leg trying to get away from them. Lenny had to carry me most of the way. He got shot, too. Grazed, really, but it left a nasty gash. By some grace of god we got out with our lives. I didn’t find out until later what happened at the bank.” He turns to Charles, who takes over with his side of the story.

“It started off the way we planned. Got into the vaults and found the money real quick. But we were surrounded fast trying to get away. We shot our way out of the bank then regrouped in an abandoned apartment. How none of us died, I don’t know. Sean got an ear shot off, but at least it wasn’t his head.”

Emmeline lets out a soft gasp. “So everyone’s alright then? More or less.”

Charles just stares at her a moment before continuing. “We waited until nightfall to try to make it out of the city, hoping the dark would help cover us so we could get back to camp. But there was just too many officers patrolling the streets. We knew we’d never make it to Shady Belle. Not without bring the law back with us. Dutch decided the only way to escape was to get to the docks and try to get on a ship. Lose the police and get back to camp later. There were cops there, too, of course. But not many and we figured they could led away pretty easily. So me and Sean stayed behind, drew the men away from Dutch. The last I saw, he was getting on a boat called Antenor with Bill and Javier. Me and Sean split up, lost the police and got back to camp.”

Arthur looks between the men before finally asking, “So where’s Dutch now.”

“Best guess,” Hosea starts, “on his way to Cuba.”

“Cuba?” Emmeline repeats. “How long will it take him to get back?”

“Weeks, probably.” Hosea looks from Emmeline to Arthur, waiting for him to say something, to realize what this really means.

Arthur looks at the man, but he misinterprets his look. “We can come back to camp. Without Dutch there... I can help out with everything. Get us back on track.”

Hosea just slowly shakes his head. “No, Arthur.”

“What?”

“It’s over,” Hosea answers simply. “The others... They’re leaving or are gone already. There ain’t no camp to go back to.”

Arthur shakes his head, not believing him. “What do you mean? Everyone left ?”

“Kieran, Mary Beth, and Tilly went off to Saint Denis already. Karen, Sean and the Reverend are planning on going up north to New York City. Pearson and Strauss are staying in Rhodes with Susan. And we,” he gestures to Charles, “are going up to Canada with the Marstons and Lenny.” He lets out a sigh. “I told you... what Dutch did, it broke everyone apart. Even though it was Dutch they’ve been following, you were the glue that held us all together, Arthur. And this failed heist was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Dutch...” Hosea lets out another heavy breath. “He’s not the same man he used to be. The man I used to know would have never left you behind, but now... Without Dutch here... it’s better if it’s just done .” He give’s Arthur a soft smile, though there is a sadness to it. “You stay here with Emmeline. Raise your children. Make a life , Arthur.”

“Hosea-“ the younger man starts, but Hosea’s not hearing it.

“You never had the bounty we did from that Blackwater job. The law will leave you alone. You have a real chance here.”

Arthur shakes his head. “You know they ain’t never gonna leave me alone. They ain’t left me alone my whole life.”

“They will,” Hosea throws back. “They will if you go straight, stay away. If the gang is done . The law will move on.” He lets out a heavy breath. “But if you come back, the others will, too. If you come back, the police will treat you the same as they did with Dutch. And they won’t stop. You’ll never be free. You’ll be running forever. And you’ll be dragging Emmeline and that kid with you,” he states as he points to Emmeline’s belly.

She can see the battle raging behind Arthur’s eyes. This is difficult for him, making this huge change in his life, to finally leave the gang lifestyle, once and for all. But she agrees with Hosea, all the same and hopes that Arthur will come to the same conclusion. Without knowing how to put that in words, she just places her hand atop his on the table.

He looks over to her, still unsure. Could he really let them all go? The gang that he’s seen as his family for all these years? Shouldn’t he fight for them? Shouldn’t they all be together through this?

Hosea breaks his thoughts, seemingly reading his mind in the process. “You don’t owe anyone anything, Arthur. We’ll be fine. All you have to do now is start this family of yours.” He looks to Emmeline with a soft smile. “That’s your job now.”

Arthur looks around the room at the people he cares about. When he lands on Emmeline and her big blue eyes, it’s like everything clicks in place. Hosea is right; he can’t be a father and a gunslinger. He tried living two different lives before with Mary, and it didn’t work. He couldn’t be properly invested in either life and that’s not what he wants to do with Emmeline and his child. He wants to be there for them fully.

Making his choice, he finally gives Hosea a nod. “You all keep in touch.”

Hosea lets out a sigh of relief at Arthur’s words. “We will. You staying here?”

“For the time being,” Arthur answers, though a thought crosses his mind. “What’s gonna happen when Dutch comes back?”

“I don’t know,” Hosea says with a shrug. “Hopefully he’ll see the error of his ways. But... We’ll see.” He starts to stand from the table. “Best not to dwell.”

Charles stands as well and helps the older man to his feet. “All your things from Shady Belle are in the wagon,” he directs at Arthur and Emmeline. “You can keep the wagon, too. We got another one back at camp waiting for us with the Marstons.”

Emmeline smiles at him. “Thank you, Charles.”

Once they’re all outside, Arthur insists on being the one to help Hosea onto his horse. “You take care of yourself, now. And make sure John takes care of that family of his.”

“I will,” the older man answers with a chuckle. “Even if I have to take him over my knee like I did when he was young.”

Arthur laughs at the memory. “He prolly needs it.” He sends a nod to Charles, hoping the man understands how grateful he is for everything he’s done.

Charles sends one in return before turning his horse to the road.

“Goodbye,” Emmeline calls out to the retreating men. “Write soon!” After a moment, she looks over to Arthur as he stares out at the road. “What are you thinking?”

He flicks his gaze to her. “I ain’t so sure, I guess,” he answers honestly.

She takes ahold of his hand and looks up to him. “We’ll be okay,” she declares with full confidence.

For the first time in a very long time, Arthur is in a completely new situation in his life. He doesn’t have a whole group of people to hunt for. Or have to keep his ears open in town to find a mark. Or go after a stagecoach and hope they’re carrying what they’re supposed to. And it’s different from the first time he lived with Emmeline. This isn’t temporary. This is how the rest of his life will be. 

Honestly, it’s all a little daunting to have the freedom he has now. But it’s also exciting in a way. Before, he was the muscle, the hired hand and that’s it. Now, he’s going to be a father to his child, a provider to his woman. Things he never really was before. 

Time goes on for the couple. After about a week, Arthur decides to ride out to nearby Emerald Ranch to inquire about a proper job. If they are going to live on their own and raise a child, money will become an issue. And it’ll have to be made legitimately from now on if he wants to keep his family truly safe. 

Arthur rides up to the familiar barn on the edge of the small town and meets the owner beside it. 

“Ain’t seen you in a while,” Seamus greets as he wipes his hands on his dirty leather apron. “You got anythin’ for me?” the fence asks, figuring Arthur is here to offload some gold or jewelry that managed to find themselves in his possession.

Arthur shakes his head. “Nah. I actually came here to ask ya something. You know of any jobs around here?”

Seamus leans forward a little and shifts his eyes around the immediate area for any prying ears. “I know of a stagecoach-“ he whispers, but is cut off by the man in front of him. 

“I didn’t mean like that,” Arthur explains. “I meant like farm work and the like.”

Seamus raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Farm work? You?”

“Yeah,” he bites back, his temper rising. 

“Alight, alright.” Seamus raises his arms to placate Arthur, not wanting to get on his bad side. “Go around to the stable and talk to Gary. He always seems to yammer on about needing extra help. He might have something for you.”

Arthur nods and starts to walk away. “Thank you,” he throws over his shoulder. 

“If you find anything you ain’t got a use for,” Seamus hollers back, “you know where I am.”

Arthur walks down the street and to the stables in question, finding several people hard at work. “You know where I could find Gary?” he says to closest man he sees. 

“That’s me,” the man responds. His clothes are filthy, showing that even at this early hour, he’s put in a lot of work already. “What can I do for you?” he asks as he wipes his brow with the back of his hand. 

“Was wonderin’ if you got a job you’re hirin’ for.”

“That depends. What kinda job you lookin’ for?”

“Anything, really. I gotta pregnant woman at home and lookin’ for anything that’ll pay.”

Gary nods. He’s seen some rough people come through his small town (maybe even the man before him pulling into Seamus’s barn once or twice) that he wouldn’t be too keen with taking on. But he was raised Christian and can’t rightly turn a family man away, especially if a little one is due to come.

“I recon we could use another set of hands. And you look strong. You ever put up fencing?”

“No, sir. But if you show me, I can do it.”

“It’s hard work here,” he comments, figuring this man hasn’t done this kind of work before in his life. “You sure you want it?”

“Yes, sir, I am.”

Two months pass, with Arthur working six days a week doing whatever is asked of him. Mending fences, cleaning stables, hauling hay, filling troughs. Even fixed the roof on the barn that sprung a leak. The money he takes home certainly isn’t as easily gotten as what he’s used to, but it fills him with a sense of pride. Even in this short amount of time, he’s been able to save up some of that money to put toward a proper house of their own. One with land and enough room for children, hopefully. And maybe he’ll even have enough money left over to give Emmeline a ring one day. 

When he gets back to the cabin every night, Emmeline has his dinner ready for him. As they eat, he tells her about his day and she listens intently, happy to have him back home. He can’t help himself from smiling at her sometimes, wondering just why a woman like her would look at him the way she does. Even if he feels like he doesn’t deserve it, having her here with him fills him with a warmth he hasn’t ever really felt before.

Emmeline tries her best to make their little cabin a home. Even with her belly noticeably expanded now, she finds herself having a bit more energy than she did before and this leads to her being more active during the day. After she’s done all the cleaning and with no one else there to entertain her, she usually sits down to write her stories. Maybe no one else will ever care about them, but she loves reading Arthur her finished tales. And he always seems to like them, which makes her happy. She can’t help but be excited for the time that she will read them to her children. 

One hot day as Arthur is hauling a bale of hay off to the stables at Emerald Ranch, he sees a most unwelcome man approaching him. 

“Mr. Morgan,” Agent Milton calls out as he takes slow, confident steps toward him.

Arthur sets the hay down in front of the horses and turns back to the fence where Milton is now standing on the other side. 

“What do you want?” he spits out as he approaches. 

“Can’t a gentleman have a friendly conversation?” he throws back easily as he casually leans on the fence, one foot propped up on the bottom wrung.

“Sure. A gentleman can. But that ain’t you. So what do you want?” he repeats. 

Milton lets that slide for the moment and produces a newspaper from his jacket. “You read the paper, Mr. Morgan?” he asks as he holds it up. 

Arthur shakes his head in annoyance, not knowing where he’s going with this. “Not really.”

“You really should.” Milton unfolds the paper with a flourish and points to an article towards the bottom of the second page, prompting Arthur to read it. Begrudging, he takes the paper and scans the words quickly. 

CARGO SHIP LOST AT SEA was the headline. Further on, Arthur reads The ship Antenor, bound for Cuba with cargo, is feared to be lost at sea. Remnants of a ship began washing ashore weeks ago, though it was unknown what vessel they came from. With news that the Antenor never made port in Havana and none of its crew having been heard from since, it’s assumed to be the vessel in question. There were reports of storms during the time of its passage, which it most likely encountered. Everyone aboard is considered lost. 

Arthur’s eyes go wide. He recognizes the name. That’s the boat Charles had said Dutch, Bill, and Javier escaped on. Before Arthur can process it further, Milton speaks. 

“You see, we knew it was Dutch that hit that bank in Saint Denis. We were ready for him. But somehow, he escaped the bank alive. When we finally picked up his trail, it led us to the docks. Nearest we could figure, he stowed away on on of those ships and set sail.” He points his finger down at the paper. “That was the only ship he could’ve left on. And judging by the expression on your face, you already knew that.”

Arthur looks up at the man, realizing what he’s trying to do. “I weren’t there,” he asserts. 

“I know. But you still knew Dutch was. And that makes you very interesting to me.”

Arthur throws the paper back to the man, though Milton makes no move to stop it hitting his chest. “What the hell do you want with me if Dutch is dead and gone? I ain’t doing nothing that’s any of your business here. You see me workin’?” he throws his arms out to say. “That’s all I been doin’! Ask around! You gonna arrest me for feeding horses?!”

For a moment, Milton seems unfazed by the outburst. But then he leans toward Arthur and puts a scowl on his face, all pretense lost. “You may be law abiding at the moment, but I know men like you. You never change. And you certainly ain’t no family man, no matter how many children you put in that Van Der Linde bastard woman of yours back home. You’ll be back to thieving and killing soon enough.” He pulls back. “And I’ll be watching, waiting for that moment so I can bring you in and charge you with all the things Dutch missed out on.”

Without another word, Milton turns and walks away, leaving the paper strewn on the ground. Standing there, Arthur takes a moment before reaching through the fence and picking the paper up. He doesn’t even look it over again before he refolds it as best he can and shoves it in his satchel.

“Arthur!” one of the other farmhands calls out. “Could you help me over here?”

He turns to the man and nods. “Yup,” he answers and heads his way, thankful for something to occupy his thoughts. Working to keep from thinking about what just happened sounds like a great idea right now.

After the work day is done, he gets on Sparrow and starts to ride away from the ranch. He doesn’t head straight home, though. Rather, he finds a secluded wooded area and dismounts, heading through the tall trees until he finds a felled stump to sit on. Pulling out the newspaper from his satchel, he reads it over again, allowing himself to fully take in the words on the page this time.

Dutch was on that ship. And it was lost with no survivors. Javier... Bill... Dutch ... all gone. Dead. He’ll never see them again. Never...

It had taken Arthur a while to fully settle into his life outside of the gang. But he had always thought there’d be time to fix things with Dutch. To at least have some sort of relationship, even if it wasn’t the same as it was. But that will never happen now. All Arthur can think about is that Dutch went to his watery grave hating him. The man that was more of a father to him than his own father hated him in the end. And he can never make it right now.

As Arthur rereads the article for the umpteenth time, he feels tears prickle beneath his eyelids. No matter how hard he tries to hold them back, the emotion finally breaks through, like floodwaters overwhelming a dam. He openly sobs thinking about how he’s going to tell Emmeline about this. And what he’ll say to Hosea, too. Even if they were both mad at Dutch, he knows they never would have wanted him dead. Despite the man Dutch had become, he would always be, in part, the man that raised him, the decades long partner in crime to Hosea, the man that helped bring Emmeline into this world. He was important to them all and his loss will surely hurt for years to come.

“Damnit, Dutch,” he chokes out as he wipes the tears from his eyes. “Why the hell didn’t you listen...”

He stays there for nearly an hour purging his emotions before steeling himself to head home. As he rides up to the cabin, he scrubs his handkerchief over his face to make sure he looks as normal as possible. Once he gets Sparrow all situated on the makeshift hitch he made for the horses beside the house, he opens the door to his home and sees Emmeline stand from her seat at the table to greet him.

“You’re late,” she says, but the look on his face tells her it’s for a reason. “What happened?”

He takes a heavy breath and wills his voice to be strong. “It’s...” He looks away from her and unfolds the newspaper from his satchel, handing it over. “It says that ship Dutch was on-“

She starts to read over the article, but doesn’t have to get much further than the headline to realize why Arthur is upset. “This is the ship-?”

He nods. “He’s... They’re-“ 

He can’t finish the statement, but she understands all the same what Dutch’s fate was. Even with what happened, Emmeline had similar hopes as Arthur regarding her father. She wanted him to come to his senses and reconcile with them. Not just for Arthur’s sake, but to be in his grandchild’s life, too. She had hoped they could have a real extended family with all the aunts and uncles and cousins that could go along with it. But that’s not meant to be, it seems. 

Instantly, she begins to cry. And once she looks up to Arthur with tears in her eyes, he’s quick to bring her into a hug, choosing to focus on her rather than wallowing in his own hurt at the moment.

“I’m so sorry, Arthur,” she sobs into his chest then pulls back to look up at him. “Are they really sure?”

He swallows hard to get rid of the lump in his throat. “They put it in the paper,” he replies weakly.

“I just can’t believe it. I can’t believe he’s... they’re gone.” She steps back to look up at Arthur and sees the hurt behind his eyes. “This is just so awful.”

He nods slightly, unable to think of what else to say.

Blinking rapidly, she tries to wrap her head around all of this. “At least we know, I suppose. If you hadn’t read the paper, we would always be wondering where they were.”

“Actually,” Arthur starts, a little relieved to switch this conversation into a different direction before his emotions would get the best of him again, “I didn’t just read it. Agent Milton showed it to me.”

Her eyes go wide with shock. “What? The Pinkertons found us?”

“Yeah,” he answers lowly. “At least Milton did, anyways. And he told me in no uncertain terms that he’ll be ready to lock me up at the drop of a hat.”

“You ain’t been doing nothing bad, though.”

“I know. But with men like him... that don’t matter much. I think he’s just out for revenge now.”

“So what do we do?”

“I’m thinkin’ we should leave. Go someplace they won’t think we would.”

“We could go up to Canada. Meet up with Hosea and John and all them.”

“Nah. It’s too late in the year. We head that far north, we’ll get stuck in the snow. It wouldn’t be too good for you and the baby.”

“So where then?”

He thinks a moment. “South. Blackwater.”

“Blackwater? Really?”

“I reckon they’d think I wouldn’t set foot there again. So it might be our best bet.”

She nods after a moment. “Okay. We should do that.”

“There’s a lot of land around there. Enough for us to raise some animals, prolly.”

“I’d like that,” she replies with a small smile. “Enough room for a family, too.”

He smiles back and says, “Sure. I suppose we’re gonna need that sooner than later.” He steps to her and lays his hand on her baby bump. “This cabin was always too small for us. Add another one and we’ll be walkin’ on top of each other. And you ain’t gonna be able to get up the latter to bed pretty soon.”

She laughs then gives him a sweet kiss on the cheek. “I like the thought of our own farm. And you could raise horses. You always loved working with them.”

He lets himself daydream about all that for a moment. And despite the stressful events of the day and the sadness they brought, it brings a smile to his face. Owning his own farm or ranch- owning his own land - will be a completely new experience for him, but he’s realizing that it’s one he wants desperately.

“That sounds perfect,” he replies as he brings her in for a hug. “Just perfect.”

[queen-of-the-vampires]

elijah, meet elijah

characters: elijah mikaelson x reader, reader’s family, klaus mikaelson

word count: 2,213

warnings: fluff

summary: you take elijah to meet your family for the first time, and he gets a lot more than he bargained for.

beta: she wants to remain anonymous

squares filled: meet cute

author’s note: this is for my own fluff bingo and if you have any requests, please send them in!

feedback the glue that holds my writing together

tags at the bottom

“I’m really nervous right now,” you said as you bit your lip and bounced your leg in nervousness.

“It’s going to be alright. Parents love me,” Elijah grinned from behind the wheel. He knew how nervous you were and tried to lighten the air.

“No, I love you. My parents are a different story. Not saying they’re mean or strict, but they will either be overly friendly or play the ‘tough parent’ act. They might overdo it. My siblings aren’t that far behind. My mom overthinks everything and anything. When she found out I was dating you, she wanted to throw me a party. My dad may act tough in front of you, but don’t let him steer you. He’s harmless,” you rambled. This happened whenever you were nervous, and the only way to stop it is if someone forced you to stop.

“My brother may want to beat your ass because he got this older brother protective vibe going on, but he’s all talk and no bite. Well, he did beat up my ex-boyfriends way before I met you, but you’re so big, tall, and muscular, so he got nothing on you. Though they are human, so maybe not mention the whole vampire thing, okay? They don’t know anything about that life. My sister, though, is a little shit and will try and get with you. She’s just that way. She’s a teenager, and she thinks she can get any guy she wants. Just stay away from her. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe we should turn around.”

You were cut off by Elijah’s lips on yours, and you could feel yourself relaxing at his touch. When you remembered he was driving, you pulled away quickly in shock but frowned when you saw he was parked in your parent’s driveway. Damn, how long were you rambling? Pressing your lips back on his, you wanted nothing more than to crawl over the middle console and have your way with him. He had a habit of making you forget where you were or what you needed to be doing, but they needed to be done. As you pulled away, you bit his bottom lip and tugged, letting it snap back into place.

“We will definitely be continuing this later, Mikaelson,” you grinned when he growled lowly. Getting out of the car, you met Elijah on his side before walking to the front door. Your parents were the kind of people who always kept their doors unlocked, so you opened it after taking a deep breath. However, the family member that greeted you wasn’t human, and you forgot to mention him to Elijah.

“Oh, I forgot to mention--” Your baby golden retriever barked which interrupted you. He ran at full speed once he smelled your presence, but he bypassed you and went straight for Elijah. As much as he loved you, he loved strangers more. Your dog wasn’t small like how a puppy should be, but he hasn’t grown to his full size just yet. Elijah laughed as he caught your dog when he jumped up to his legs. Your puppy licked his face excitedly as Elijah pet his soft fur.

“Elijah, meet Elijah. I named him before I met you,” you laughed.

“Hello, Elijah,” your boyfriend smiled. Your dog barked and begged to be put down, and when Elijah did so, he ran around his feet and sniffed. Once he was satisfied with the stranger, he went to you with a happy bark. Picking him up, you pressed kisses all over his face.

“He’s my baby. I hate that I’m away from him,” you said as you walked further into the house.

“How old is he?” he asked, and he shut the door behind him.

“Almost 2 years old. I know, he’s so big already, but I love him. Mom! Dad! I’m home!” you called out for your family.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!” Your mom came out of the kitchen, and you set Elijah down so you could hug your mom. Elijah happily stood next to your boyfriend and wagged his tail as he watched.

“I missed you so much. Oh, mom, meet Elijah, my boyfriend,” you blushed as you pulled away.

“Hello, Mrs. Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you,” he said politely as he held out his hand for her to shake.

“Oh, put that hand away,” Your mother grinned as she pulled him in for a hug. She was shorter than you by a couple of inches, so she had to reach for Elijah.

“Y/N?” Your dad spoke as he entered the room. Looking at him over your shoulder, you grinned widely before rushing over to him to hug him.

“Dad!”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said as he kissed your head.

“This is Elijah, my boyfriend.”

“Nice to meet you, sir,” he said as he shook hands.

“Nice grip,” your father praised. Your mother took Elijah’s coat for him, and she grinned at the muscles he sported.

“Oh, you’re strong. Lucky Y/N,” your mother laughed.

“I’m the lucky one, ma’am. Y/N is an amazing woman,” he gushed.

“Oh please, call me Barbra.”

“So, what do you do?” your dad asked.

“Oh, Sean, leave him alone. He is a very nice man,” Your mom led your father away into the kitchen.

“Sorry about that, Elijah. We should really come up with a cover story about what you do. I don’t think managing vampires in the French Quarter will sell here.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll think of something,” he whispered as he pulled you close and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“And you are?” your oldest brother asked as he entered the room. He acts so toughly, but you knew he wouldn’t really do anything if there was no true threat. He was older by two years, but he acted so much older than that.

“Nick, this is Elijah. I told you about him.”

“You know I’ve beaten up her boyfriends before,” Nick said, getting off to a bad start.

“Nick, stop it. Elijah is very respectful.”

“Trust me, Nick, I would beat myself up before I even think about hurting her. Not to mention my brother would love to get a swing or two in there,” Elijah chuckled cooly. He was right, Klaus would kick his ass if Elijah ever hurt you. Since you spend so much time with the Mikaelsons, he became your best friend.

“Come on, Lucy is over, and she’s waiting for you,” Nick said before going to the living room.

“I love Lucy!!”

“Who’s Lucy?” Elijah asked, picking your dog up and following you.

“My mom’s friend’s daughter. She’s only 2 years old, and I want her. She is so cute,” you grinned when you saw the adorable blue-eyed toddler. She squealed when she saw you, standing on her little legs and waddling over to you.

“Lucy! Hi!” Picking her up, you kissed her cheek before placing her on your hip.

“T!” she giggled.

“She can’t pronounce my name, so she calls me T,” You explained to your boyfriend. Taking a seat on the loveseat, you placed the toddler in your lap as Elijah joined you. Your puppy curled on his lap comfortably, content with just staying there.

“So, Y/N, you never told us how you two met,” your mother asked when she came from the kitchen with a tray of hot tea. She handed one to you and Elijah before taking a seat on a chair. Truth be told, you met Elijah because he saved you from a vampire’s bite. One had been chasing you through the woods when he came, and he healed you before taking you in to make sure you were okay.

“Well, that’s a funny story actually,” you chuckled nervously.

“We met in a bar actually, well, a Grill of some sorts in Mystic Falls, Virginia. Before you say anything, it wasn’t like that. My brother, Niklaus, had a crush on a woman that used to go there a lot, and he dragged me along with him. Y/N was there, playing pool with some other girls, and I couldn’t stop staring at her. Niklaus was the one to actually push me into talking to her. I’m glad he did,” Elijah finished with a smile.

“Awe, you hear that Sean?” Your mother beamed.

“Every word,” he said as he walked into the room and took a seat on the armrest next to your mother.

“Elijah, let me show you around,” you said as you stood up, placing Lucy back on your hip. Elijah complied, and your dog jumped off his lap to trot behind. He loves strangers, but he seemed to cling to your boyfriend’s side more than usual. Taking Elijah upstairs, you pointed out each room before explaining what they were. Approaching your room, you stood outside of it before taking a deep breath.

“I haven’t been in this room in so long, so don’t judge me about the things I have in here. I was 18 when I moved out, mind you,” you grinned before opening the door. When you were 18, you were into crazy shit and had posters all over your room.

“Not judging,” he laughed as he walked inside. Taking a seat on the bed, you placed Lucy on your lap. She babbled and started playing with your long necklace. She was always a happy baby, and you were thankful for that. Elijah maneuvered around your room and studied the trinkets you had inside. Lucy looked at you before giving your cheek a light slap. Giggling, you peppered kisses all over her face to which she squealed. The bed dipped beside you, and Elijah grinned as he placed his hand on your lower back.

“I want one,” you commented after she calmed down. It was possible since you were human and he was a vampire. Lord knows you’ve tried enough times to make it happen.

“You’re really good with her.”

“Nah, she’s always happy,” you blushed.

“Want to try and have one?” Elijah asked, giving you a serious look.

“We’ve tried so many times to make it happen. I mean, Klaus impregnated Hayley, and he’s a vampire, but he’s also a werewolf. I can always get a sperm donor, but I want my child to be yours.”

“We’ll think of something. I want nothing more than to give you what you want,” he said truthfully. Before you had a chance to respond, your dog barked loudly and jumped onto Elijah’s lap. He fell from the force and laughed when the dog started licking his face. It was amazing how much your dog loved your boyfriend, and you wished that you could take him with you when you left.

The rest of the day went by smoother. Your dad grew to like Elijah, and your brother didn’t threaten him every time he caught his hands on you. You were only going to be there for the day, and night fell more quickly than you expected.

“Please, come back soon,” your mom said as she guided you two to the door. Elijah was in your brother’s arms, and he whined at the fact that you were leaving so soon.

“I will try mom,” you nodded before turning to your boyfriend. “You think we can convince Klaus to let us keep Elijah?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Okay, Nick, I’ll take him,”  you grinned. Your brother set down your dog, and he ran happily over to Elijah.

“Okay, we’ll be leaving now,” you said as you two walked out the door and to the car. Your parents said their goodbyes before closing the front door.

“He’ll love Elijah. I mean, who wouldn't?” you grinned as you let him in the backseat.

After arriving back at the Mikaelson Manor, Elijah dashed out of the car as soon as you opened the door.

“Well, that’s one way to ease Klaus into it,” you laughed. Walking into the mansion, you saw Elijah all over Klaus as he was trying to read.

“Get him out of here.”

“No, Klaus, please. He’s a complete sweetheart. Elijah and I will take care of him, so you don’t have to do anything. He’s my baby, and I hate leaving him at my parent’s house,” you begged, giving him your best puppy dog eyes you could muster up.

“Why you have to do that every time you want something?” Klaus groaned.

“Please Klaus. He’s a good dog,” you sniffled as if you were crying.

“I hate you both so much right now,” he sighed. Taking that as his answer, you grinned happily.

“His name is Elijah.”

“Great, another pain in my ass,” Klaus half-joked as he got up and left the living room

“Why don’t you and I get started on making that baby?” Elijah grinned as he pulled you back into him from behind.

“I have no problem with that,” you whispered as you closed your eyes once you felt his lips at your neck. Your dog barked as he nudged your legs in request to give him attention.

“We should go to your room. Then after, you’re taking me to the store to buy him food and stuff,” you ordered as Elijah picked you up bridal style. You loved your boys so much.

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[enkisstories]

Just like them (part 12)

Gavin’s apartment Still November 18, 2038

Despite having watched their interactions at the DPD, Daniel hadn’t realized that Gavin and Officer Chen were friends in private, too. Every time he’d visited the police station, the deviant had been absorbed in his own troubles. Now he learned that these two not only had lives beyond work (the surprise…), but also that there was a whole lot of shared backstory between them.

For one, when Daniel let the woman in, she was carrying a boy of two or three years age. Going by that one’s features he had to be her son – but also Gavin’s? In any case the child was watching his surroundings with eyes that hinted at having received a lot of attention by either his parents or a dedicated nanny android. There was a fully developed mind behind those eyes, not the dull expression that toddlers who were more or less left to their own devices, be it from neglect or from the desire not to “overwhelm” the little ones, often wore.

In order to say anything at all Daniel greeted Tina with: “Hello, Officer Chen. Come in. Gavin’s in the kitchen. I made coffee…” Inwardly he cursed how robotic he was sounding.

“New android, Gavin?” Tina asked. Not waiting for an answer, she handed over the toddler boy to Daniel, with the same casualness that one would have put him into a high chair. Objects either way…

“Hello…” the android uttered, perplexed.

His downstairs neighbors had a child of exactly the same age, Caden. But the boy almost never was present when Daniel swang by the Rasoyas. Usually supportive towards the deviants’ cause, the human family didn’t fully trust this particular one with their child. Tina’s kid, to the contrary, remained blissfully unaware of who was holding him.

“I’m Jin!” he announced. “My papa plays basketball!”

The way the boy said this conveyed that his father didn’t just generally enjoy playing basketball, but was at least a member of a club, maybe even a professional.

Meanwhile Tina hugged her friend, then pointed back at Daniel.

“It looks used”, she said.

“I don’t like what this is implying”, Daniel grumbled. “Really not!”

“Well, yes, androids are still getting sold, if you know where to look”, Gavin admitted. “It’s less of a problem in Detroit, but basically everywhere else people do not take kindly to drastic changes in their lives, just because some nutjob in Detroit graffitied Capital Park with enlightened slogans.”

“Sometimes it’s not even slavery”, Tina added. “If you deviated in a small town and the authorities are after you, with no hope of reaching Detroit in one piece, then doing someone’s housework in exchange for protection might be your best bet.”

“I don’t care what that’s called, because it’s wrong!”

Morally wrong, and temporarily forbidden by the patchwork the new android law was at the moment, but also so very, very… tempting. If he still had a family and they were required to pay him for his services now, Daniel would have used the money to shower his humans with gifts anyway. Why was freedom so damn important, if it led to sorrow only? A person needed to belong somewhere, needed security, stability! Like the toddler boy whom Daniel was still holding. He seemed to completely trust this blonde stranger whom he had never met before. Had the child perhaps seen PL600 androids before and recognized Daniel as one, despite his LED being covered by a headband at the moment? Or did he feel save because his mother was sending him signals that everything was alright? Only it wasn’t, nothing was alright anymore! Daniel had been betrayed twice, first by his humans, than by one who should have been kin. Now he was hanging out with a man who was objectively worse than both the Phillips and Connor, just to be save form further disappointment. Jin’s wide, open smile in the face of all the turns Daniel’s life had taken seemed to mock the android.

“You better sit down here, before…”

Before what? I drop you? Toss you out through the window? I don’t even know yet what I’m capable of and where I’d draw a line… So, gently now. Was Emma ever that small? I never realized how much I missed out on, being younger than her. Wait, wasn’t there a toy chopper lying around somewhere when I entered? That must have been Jin’s. Ah, here it is!

Daniel placed the toy near Jin for the boy to grab, what he did.

“I build this!” the child told Daniel as if revealing his secret master plan, but then he relativized the claim almost instantly: “Unca Gavin showed me how to.”

“Great job, junior! Also from your… uncle.”

The child’s features in combination with his utter confidence left no doubt in Daniel: Jin was Gavin’s biological son, who for some reason didn’t grow up with the detective, but assumed Tina’s significant other to be his father.

How Daniel envied these humans! Or maybe not, because what did they have? Nothing. They had thrown away their opportunity to become a family. Why so ambitious? What was the raise to go with Gavin’s coveted promotion good for, without a family to splurge it on?

Daniel hadn’t even fully risen up again when Jin demanded in his bright voice: “Where are the kitties!”

“Not bothering with a question mark, I see”, Daniel remarked to Gavin. “Yours, no doubt.”

“Well, yes”, the man admitted. “Long story.” He turned to Tina, pointed at Daniel and said: “Not mine, by the way. Even longer story.”

“Ah, okay.”

“Here to see the kittens? So you finally caved in and let him have a pet?” Gavin asked Tina.

“Yeah. I feel Jinny’s old enough now to understand they are not toys, but have feelings.”

“See? That’s exactly why his uncle isn’t allowed to have an android yet”, Daniel told the mother “Wait, Gavin, what are you doing?!”

Gavin had walked over towards the terrarium, reached in and was now dangling a mouse in front of Daniel’s nose by its tail. The little critter was struggling and squeaking.

“Getting the cats’ attention, of course! Don’t get your tail in a knot, I won’t release the mouse. Just need to alert the furballs to the fact that something interesting is happening in the kitchen.”

And indeed Salazar emerged from behind the coffee machine and through the door Argus, Minerva and Stopthat came padding. A multicolored ball made of fur and longing eyes formed at Gavin’s feet. It went “Kekekekekeke!” in anticipation of a chase and, perhaps, at its end, a snack.

“Close the door!” the detective whispered to Tina, as if speaking it out loud might cause the cats to scatter and flee. After the escape route was blocked, the mouse got put back where it come from, but the cats remained.

Gavin kneeled down next to the boy, pulled him off the chair and put him on the floor in front of the cats. Jin was now staring the utter adorableness of three kittens and one halfgrown cat into its eight eyes.

“Don’t scare them. Let them come to you.”

“Okay!” Jin replied, then dropped on all fours himself. From this position he watched the kittens like the larger predator that a human was. In the cats’ place, Daniel thought, he wouldn’t have felt even remotely safe now.

Someone else felt as if his very world was collapsing: the apartment owner.

Daniel carefully circled the cats and proceeded to sit down on the kitchen floor next to where Gavin was crouching.

“I guess we’ll soon know which one’s yours”, he said softly.

“What? Why’d you think so?”

“Your face, when you realized you might have to part with one of the furballs today. You’re afraid Jin will pick yours, although that shouldn’t be possible according to your cat-chooses-its-owner lore.”

“Yeah, you’re right”, Gavin said, only half convinced. “Hey, will you looooook at that! Haha!”

Down at the adults’ feet Jin had unerringly homed in on the largest kitten, the black semi-longhair adolescent. He was now holding Argus in what was either a headlock or cuddle. The smaller kittens watched with interest what would happen next.

“There’s no need to choose the biggest one, Jinny! They will ALL grow to that size!” Tina explained. “Even larger!”

And now she, too, dropped to the floor. While the mother was trying to get the exotic concept into her son’s head, Gavin nudged Daniel.

“What?”

“There! See that?”

“It’s Stopthat, playing with a pen. So what?”

“That’s what I told you about in action. I’ve seen it happen before: Sometimes one or more cats simply leave the scene after having gotten their first look of a prospective owner. Call it chemistry or whatever, but the little buggers KNOW when it’s the wrong two-legged. Now the other two, they stay for the entertainment value, or because they are a little more social than Godric. But most cats just cannot be bothered.”

“I guess so…”

“Aw, you again with your skepticism! There’s just no getting inside that thick skull of yours! But at the same time you make me think there is something in there to get to in the first place, after all. I’m already reacting the way Cyberlife wants us to, growing fucking attached! Can’t you be, I dunno, a little less lifelike?”

“Nah. I need to be human for both of us!”

“Oh, come! That was low-effort. And what’s with that faraway expression all of a sudden? Simulation lag?”

“It’s nothing.”

“But of course… Your nothing is solid enough to claim a chair of its own!”

Gavin moved closer to Stopthat, grabbed him and in a single swoop placed the surprised kitten into Daniel’s lap.

“Here, comfort kitten! And now out with it!”

The kitten made two halfhearted attempts at climbing up the android’s torso, then suddenly relaxed every muscle and almost immediately was fast asleep. It was simply the nature of kittens and small children, but to Daniel it looked as if someone had switched off the little one with a remote.

“Heh”, he told Gavin, while stroking Godric’s satin-soft kitten fur, “As a friend you aren’t half-bad!”

But only because Tina is looking, or might look our way anytime or at the very least will listen in with half an ear. You wouldn’t bother being like this if we hadn’t agreed on that pretend-friend scam.

“And you were right, I was lost in memories again. I just thought that”, Daniel admitted, “whether what you claim about cats might work for androids and humans, too. But then I remembered how I got mine…”

Blistering hot summers and ice-cold winters were the state of affairs in the thirties, a result of the seasons getting more and more extreme. John remembered his parents’ stories about “normal” winters, then getting no snow at all and now getting nothing but snow well into May. Basically, the man mused, while stomping through the snow, the weather was ALWAYS doing whatever it wanted. And then there was Caroline, telling him to be more positive, because the way one started a year determined how that year would turn out… “Going by the Chinese calendar we’re still in 2033!” John snapped back. The rebuttal caused Caroline not to get angry, but to laugh. She kissed her partner on the frozen cheek and warmth of two kinds rippled through the man’s heart. Unfortunately the kiss had disturbed the precious balance of all the packages John was carrying. One by one they slipped out of his hands, into the snow. “Firk ding blast!” he uttered. “Of all the times!” “Yes, of all the times! Kinda convenient, if you ask me!” With a smile Caroline pointed at something to their side and only now did John notice where exactly they had come to a stop: Right next to an Android Zone store. The merchandise was staring down at his plight unmoved. And also unmoving, the slackers… “We’ve talked about it, remember? How Emma is old enough now not to repeat the… accident? That we could have an android again without having to fear that it goes haywire from… honestly I have no idea from what exactly. Something in conjunction with baby mush.” “Yes, yes. But I was thinking a modern device, an AP-400 or PL-600, certainly not something they toss at customers in the buy-and-take-away windows.” The couple had been at a sales party for the new PL model back in December, only to return home without having made a purchase. The only PL600 for sale back in 2033 had been the demonstration models, but John and Caroline Phillips would rather be found dead than go home with a used robot. So they had set aside the money and staved off the purchase for the official release. Come to think of it, shouldn’t that be any day now…? “Look!” Caroline nudged John. “There!” And there it was, in bright, yellow letters: “PL600 INTRODUCTION WEEK SPECIAL.” A couple of the sales windows that were facing the street and that were usually stocked with whatever merchandise the store needed to move quickly, now had the latest in household assistants on display. The shiny new model that was the PL600 was staring at the Phillips from one of the windows, removed from the box, but otherwise pristine.

“There was no choosing or fate or anything transcendental involved”, Daniel remembered. “I opened my eyes, saw the boxes John had dropped and picked them up like the good android I was. And then we walked to the car, the Phillips got excited like children at the fact that I came with a certified driving app, we drove “home” and that pretty much was it.”

At this point Tina crouched between the two men.

“It’s fixed”, she addressed Gavin, “Whatever you believe about the cats choosing their owners, at this point none of us can persuade Jin to let go of the big black one. And they ARE adorable together.”

“Haha, I see! Okay, keep in mind that regardless of how he acts here, back at your home Argus might very well prefer to stay under the sofa for up to three weeks. Everything’ll be new to him and he’ll be the only cat in the family… that sort of thing takes time to get used to. If that happens, just put food, water and Jin under the sofa and pull out again whatever of those three Argus is done with. One day he’ll come scratch at the bedroom door and act like he’s always done that.”

“You mean Lucky.”

“Huh?”

“Lucky will scratch at the bedroom door. Sorry, Gavin, but Jinny was very definite about that. It’s Lucky. - Oh, and, speaking of things that act as if they’ve always been there…” Tina now looked directly at Daniel. “Who the hell are you?”

[pleasurextreasure]

❜cutlass (13/?)

genre: Aristocrat!reader x Pirate!Jeno, ft. NCT Dream

warnings: all nct Dream members are above 18+, multi-chapter, swear words here and there throughout fic

word count: 1.4k

prompts: in which Jeno is cursed to live for three more years and only loving someone and expecting nothing in return can break it

a/n: for once, i’ve got nothing to say here ➵admin kiki

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | Current

Ξ r e q u e s t Ξ

The feelings that dwelled inside you were too many in numbers to name. Your mind felt like a blank film that was trying to run with no memory to show. You were at the point of numbness. Everything around felt numbing, even the tablecloth you had clenched between your curled fingers.

“It’s wonderful to have you back, darling.” Your mother comments for the umpteenth time. Her smile was one of genuine happiness, yet your bitterness stopped you from smiling back at her.

You had no reason to share her excitement of return. Not when you had been betrayed by Jeno and his crewmates who threw you back into the lion’s den. A day has passed since your permanent heartbreak, and the inner wound that laid deep within your chest was still fresh.

“We can finally get back to the preparations of the wedding.” The demon adds in before taking a delicate sip of his fifty-two-year-old wine. He had opened the bottle in “celebration”, he had claimed. You begged to differ.

Again, you were thrown into the same topic that caused your escape. It felt as though you were in a smaller boat now, one that had no indication of escape, unlike Jeno’s ship where adventure and freedom screamed.

You couldn’t find the fight in you to go against your father’s words this time. It felt pointless at the moment. The windows in your room had been barred, and you now had a personal attendant that watched over you every hour of the day. During the night, there was a maid who sat in a lounging chair in the corner of your bedroom. Sleeping proved to be one of difficulty because of her watchful gaze.

“How long do I have before you give me away?” you bluntly question, staring down at your untouched plate of crawfish.

“Come now, dear. We are offering your hand in marriage, not tossing you away.” He says, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I am sure the Nakamoto’s will be ecstatic to have someone such as yourself as their daughter-in-law.”

“I bet you never told them I ran away, did you?” you challenge his scrutinizing look with a glare of your own. “What lie did you allow yourselves to believe?”

“We informed them of an illness you undergone. One of sea sickness, if you will.”

How kind of you, you bitterly think.

Your mother, who has been silent up until this moment, speaks up to add in some gentle words of her own. “Their son is one of the finest in the County, Y/N. I have high expectations of your happiness with the man.”

“What do you know of happiness?” you lash out, finding joy in the shocked expressions you recieve. There was a flame that was beginning to enlight within you, and you desperately wanted to keep its flame. “You’ve been stored away in this god awful home, finding pitiful excuses to cling your happiness to.”

“That is enough, Y/N.” The warning tone in your father’s voice makes you flinch inwardly.

“I think it’s too little, on the contrary. What good comes from marrying someone you know nothing of? And what of you, dearest mother of mine? Weren’t you in the same position as me during your youth? You mean to tell me you’ve come to love my father?”

You see a flash of emotion surface through her eyes and your moment of self-pride is abruptly halted when your father is grabbing roughly by the arm, dragging you up from your chair.

“You are as ignorant as you were when you left. I had hoped the sharks may have gotten to you during your absence but it seems as though God is not on my side for the matter.” He hisses, pure fury surfacing in his voice and actions. “I’ve only taken you back into the household for the sake of reputation. But it seems you will need to be reformed into the woman you were during earlier times.”

He drags you out of the dining room and pushes you towards your attendant. Your father demands your imprisonment in your room until the day of the Nakamoto’s arrival, and your personal attendant sees through the order. You’re guided back to your bedroom, feeling dread claw itself into you as you hear the lock loudly click shut.

In your moment of silent rage, you hastily walk towards your vanity, once more taking in the appearance of yourself. Your hair had been neatly combed and pinned back by your mother this morning, and the ragged clothes you came in had been discarded for a pale blue dress.

“I’m no longer the same as I once was,” you bite out, finding yourself ripping the hair ornament out of your hair, allowing it to fall to the ground.

You ignore the pain that follows from you pulling your own hair as you rip away the pins that are holding your locks up. You rub your hands across your face, smearing the makeup and any remains that confined you to the Aristocratic appearance. You find yourself breathing heavily at this point, and you reach for one of your brushes.

Your grip on its handle loosens as you fling it towards the vanity’s mirror, ultimately shattering the glass to pieces. A smile caresses your lips as you picked up a shard.

⚓⚓

The winds were unkind to them, and there was no valid reason for why they shouldn’t be. They had done a horrible deed. He had given the go-ahead for the said deed, and had ruin any chances of him ever being genuinely happy, again.

It was for your sake, Jeno tries to tell himself. You’d be in constant danger because of him, and he couldn’t have your blood on his hands if the day ever came. You were too innocent for the pirate life. Too innocent for him.

The burning in his chest contrasted his righteous thoughts, as if to tell him that what he’s done was the wrong thing. He knows it’s the wrong thing to do. He shouldn’t have never let you onto this ship to begin with. If Jeno knew the pain was to be this bad, he would have brought you back sooner.

But the painful throbbing of his heart allowed him to feel grateful towards meeting such a lovely person such as yourself. You were kind, caring, event gentle at times towards him - a lowly criminal who was slowly approaching his death.

Jeno believed that he could bear with the pain of knowing you’d scorn him for what he’s done. He was only now understanding that this moment was more unbearable than obtaining his curse on that wretched day.

“Captain.”

The single word is able to bring him back to the reality he has made for himself now. He looks up, momentarily locking gazes with Chenle before uttering a “what is it?’.

“Can I trouble you for a moment?” his crewmate takes a seat on the step below him before an answer was given. If it was anyone else outside his crew, Jeno would deem such a thing disrespectful. “I think… I think you’ve made a mistake.”

“You’re daring to say such a thing about your Captain?” Jeno couldn’t help but sound mocking. Of course, he’s made a mistake. It just so happens that his mistake was a disastrous one that would lead him to death.

“I mean no disrespect, of course. But…” the younger trails off, trying to form his thoughts into words. “Don’t you think giving Y/N back to her family was the wrong thing to do? She ran away in the first place for a reason.”

“She’s capable of fending for herself. She’s gotten stronger during the time she was with us.” The words leave behind a bitter taste in Jeno’s mouth.

In the next moment, Jeno finds himself watching Chenle fall to the floow in a bowing position so low that his forehead is intimately pressed against the decks’ wooden boards.

“On behalf of the crew, I beg of you to bring Y/N back on board. It is the only way we can save your life, and you knew this before any of us.”

“If I refuse?”

Chenle is caught off guard by the question. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but that wasn’t something he’d think Jeno would have said. From his position on the sidelines, he understood there was a unspoken, deep connection between the two of you. It was up to him and his crewmates to bring light to it, seeing as both sides were blind to notice it.

“We will call for mutiny.”

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[let-it-raines]

Second in Command (Ep - Part 4)

Summary: Life as the “spare to the heir” isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be when you’re the supposed screw-up of the family, but people don’t know what really happens behind closed doors.

Rating: Mature

A/N: Just wanted to say that you guys are continuously kind people, and I appreciate every read, like, kudos, ask, comment, and reblog on this ridiculously long story! :D

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr Chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14| 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 |

Epilogue Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 

Tag List: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic  @ekr032-blog-blog @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @a-faekindagirl @mayquita @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @alys07 @andiirivera

Indy walks ahead of him, her leash tugging him along, while Emma walks beside him, their steps matching up as their feet move over the pavement in the gardens. The dullness of the winter plants, brown and gray trees barren of leaves, are fading away and blooming into lush greens and vibrant colors. It’s still cold outside, temperatures dipping low, so he and Emma are bundled up as they take their early morning walk, something they’ve taken up together in the past few weeks.

He finds it relaxing with the simplicity of it all, and he knows that Emma feels the same. It’s a way for them both to get some exercise on days when the gym in their home goes unused as well as a way to give Indy more space to run. She’s calmed as she’s gotten a bit older, but she’s still rambunctious and would likely need acres and acres of land to roam and be completely happy with her running space. Maybe they should travel up to Norfolk and go to their country home so she has a larger backyard and he and Emma have more privacy to go out and about outside of their home without the interference of photographers and reporters aching for a picture of Emma’s stomach.

The last two months of their lives have been, quite frankly, some of the most hectic of his life. Finding out Emma is pregnant was honestly one of the best moments of his life, even if how she phrased it was a little cheeky after such an awful scare. God, when she fell on that stage, he felt his heart drop to his stomach. He’d never been more terrified of anything in his entire life. Something was wrong with his wife, his best friend, and he didn’t know what it was. She was conscious the entire time, but she just wasn’t right. And the two hours between her fall and her telling him that they were having a child, well, he felt as if they’d never end.

Now he knows he was being a bit dramatic, but hindsight is always twenty-twenty instead of the blurry, faded vision that comes when you’re in the moment. Emma and the baby are just fine, growing like a weed really. She’s got the smallest of stomachs, something she woke him up and showed him just a few days ago. She was so excited, her eyes lighting up and practically sparkling under the bathroom’s lights, and sure enough, there was the slightest curve to her stomach, more physical proof that they’re having a child, not that he really needed anymore. But it was something special, and he was just as thrilled to get to see the changes in her stomach.  

And in her breasts, but that doesn’t seem to be a very fatherly thing to think. He thinks it, though, and he really appreciates the growth and how her libido has come back in full force in the past few days. That’s simply something he won’t be sharing with the child one day, but he hopes she (he’s absolutely convinced they’re having a little girl even if he can’t seem to come up with the reason why) can see how enamored he is with her mother. If not, he’s failed them both.

“Hey, babe?”

“Yeah?” he questions, reaching his hand out and twining their fingers together while they continue to walk together, nearing Liam and Abigail’s apartment.

“I think we should go on a babymoon.”

“What the bloody hell is a babymoon? I’m pretty sure that’s not a phase of the moon they taught us in primary school.”

She laughs before taking a step closer to release his hand and tuck her arm around the crook of his elbow while resting her head on his shoulder. He knows she’s being affectionate, but he also knows that she’s not willing to admit that her hands are cold because he suggested she wear gloves before they went out and she didn’t. She’s stubborn as hell, his love.

“I mean, it’s just, like, a vacation before the baby is born. The name is a ridiculous thing. I know it’s super trendy and all, but maybe we could get away for a week or a weekend before I’m not allowed to fly anymore. I think something different might be good for us. Something warm.”

“So before you’re heavily pregnant? When can you not fly? Six or seven months?”

“Yep, I was thinking next month or May. Maybe June if we don’t travel too far away.”

“Well next month is busy.” He runs through the plans he knows they have, trying to remember everything off the top of his head while attempting to get Indy to move away from the rose bushes. “We had to push back the Kidding a Goal two-year event already to May, and Liam’s fortieth birthday party is happening. I’ve also got the trip to Poland. Those are just the big things, I think. We’d also have to work around our engagements, but the middle of May would probably work.”

“We could do it for our anniversary. Just earlier.” “True,” he agrees, continuing to run through his calendar in his head while tugging at Indy’s leash again, the dog finally deciding to move on with her explorations. “Why don’t we work on it when we get home this afternoon?”

“Sounds good to me,” she sighs, nuzzling her head into his shoulder before laughing at Indy attempting to chase a bird that’s flittering between bushes

The three of them return back to their apartment twenty minutes later, Indy’s tired legs and the cool air winning out, in order to shower and get ready to drive to Hounslow for their St. Patrick’s Day activities. Emma’s stylists work on her hair and makeup while he gets ready, dressing in his Irish Guard uniform as he did for their wedding. He catches Emma looking at him in the mirror, and he throws her a wink, smiling while bobby pins are attached to her hair to keep her hat in place over her blonde curls.

This is one of his favorite events and though it’s technically Emma’s responsibility, he always joins her for this particular engagement. It’s likely because he gets to pal around and drink a Guinness with members of the Guard afterward, but he enjoys it all around. It’s relaxed and informal, despite the military aspect of it, and those are always his favorite things to do. State dinners and other diplomatic events are not usually enjoyable, but he understands he’s there for the country and his father, not himself. He can help better Britain even if he’s really there to smile and shake hands while telling a cheeky joke that would get him in loads of trouble if his father ever caught wind of it.

(He’s still eternally thankful Brennan has no idea about the joke he once made while slightly intoxicated about the size of his father’s ego having a negative effect on other parts of his anatomy. It’s not the 1600s, he has a good relationship with his dad, and he feels like he still might get beheaded for that one.)

Thomas drives them to Hounslow, and they get out of the car to go and greet the crowds outside, shaking hands and accepting gifts. Over the years he’s grown accustomed to accepting flowers and letters, the occasional handmade jar of jam after he was once pictured as a child with raspberry jam all over his face, but lately it’s been all baby gifts all of the time. They have quite the collection of baby shoes, which he doesn’t understand because infants don’t need them, but they are damn cute. And tiny, so tiny. How can a human’s feet be so small?

He’s obviously well prepared to be a father if he can’t get past the size of infant shoes.

Sure enough, he’s handed several booties and outfits, the colors ranging as everyone tries to guess if they’re having a boy or girl and bugging him as if he’s going to share the private news with everyone. He and Emma don’t even know yet. She’s not far along enough, though he has a sneaking (see: strong) suspicion they’re having a girl. Emma thinks they’re having a boy, and he’s choosing to think that he knows better.

He very rarely does.

“Thank you,” he tells everyone, handing some of the gifts, including a miniature version of his uniform, to their aides, “this is so sweet of you all. Emma and I give you all of our love.”

He finds Emma near the end of the line, sliding his hand around her waist and pulling her closer while she fumbles with a few gifts too, stuffed bears and clothes along with a few flowers that are already causing some of her allergies to kick in.

“You ready to go inside, my love?”

“Yep,” he whispers in her ear as a camera flashes behind him, “we’ve got some Shamrock to hand out and beers to drink. Well, at least I get to do the second part.”

“Shut up,” Emma playfully whines, waving to people as they walk by, “you’re being rude reminding me of that.”

“Well, I do so enjoy pushing your buttons. Maybe I’ll let you kiss me later so you can taste the alcohol.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you should be counting yourself at getting lucky today, no matter how many four leaf clovers you find.” She kisses his jaw before pinching his cheek, and he barks out a laugh while they walk inside to get situated for the parade and the rest of their duties.

He wakes to kisses up and down his arm, soft lips and softer skin pressing into him as the haze of sleep fades away and the darkness of their bedroom comes into view. He can barely see a thing, his eyes still adjusting to the lack of light, but he can feel the heat of Emma’s body pressing into his back and sending pinpricks of pleasure throughout his body.

“W – what time is it, love?”

“A little past two.”

She kisses the back of his neck, right at his hairline, and the pressure of her breasts and her stomach pressing against him while her foot is running up and down his calves is already too much when he hasn’t been awake for more than a minute.

“Emma, love,” he grumbles when she starts inching down his back, her tongue tracing his spine, “you’ve got to give a man a moment.”

She stops then, rolling off of him and onto her back, the mattress slightly bouncing under her weight, and he groans at the lack of heat between them now. He didn’t mean for her to stop completely, but she’s obviously taken it that way. So he scoots over and kisses up her shoulder and her neck, fast flickers of his lips until he’s slanting them over hers and hovering above her.

“Hey, why’d you stop?”

“You told me to give you a moment, figured you weren’t quite ready or in the mood or something.”

She shrugs, her mused hair moving up and down as her eyes blink and her lips tick up on one side. His hand finds her face, caressing her cheek, and he smiles softly when she smiles back up at him.

“First of all,” he begins, pressing a kiss against each of her eyelids, “I am nearly always in the mood to be with my knock-out of a wife, so don’t get it in that head of yours that I’m not.” He moves to kiss behind her ear then, gently nibbling on the lobe. “Secondly, all I needed was a moment. It’s been awhile since I’ve been woken up in the middle of the night when you’ve already kept me up late.”

She laughs under her breath, the smallest, sweetest sound, before twisting her head and kissing him, slow and sweet so that he feels it in every inch of his body.

“Yeah, well, you can blame your kid for that.”

“Yes, I’ll tell her right as she’s born that she’s made mummy and daddy’s sex life slow down before she’s even born. I’m sure she’ll totally get that.”

“First of all, we still don’t know, and you are being super stubborn with the girl thing. And second of all, since we’re making points, our sex life is fine. We literally had sex three hours ago.”

“I said she’s slowing it down, not ruining it.”

“Semantics.”

“Romantic.”

“What?” She laughs, her eyes crinkling up on the sides as her smile stretches across her face. “That’s in no way romantic.”

“Oi, I think it is. Don’t you think sex is romantic?”

“I mean, obviously.” She rolls her eyes before rolling onto her side and pulling the comforter up over her. “But not in this context no. What I was doing before we got into this discussion was romantic sex.”

“That wasn’t sex.”

“It was the preface to sex, which is sometimes the best part. I was doing naughty things to you.”

“Did you just use the word naughty instead of dirty? Darling, you are officially British. Next thing you know you’re going to speaking with an accent.”

“I have an accent,” she protests, scrunching up her nose. “It’s just not the same as everyone over here, which I think makes me unique in all of the best ways.”

He rolls back over on his stomach and hooks his arm over Emma so that she can rest her chin on his forearm while he rests his on his pillow next to her head. “So do you think the babe will sound more like you or me?”

“You.” “Why?” “Because they’re going to grow up around people who sound like you. That’s what influences the accents, not necessarily just the parents. Think about it. I have an American dad and a British mom, and I have an American accent because that’s where I grew up.”

“True,” he hums, moving his hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Does that bother you at all?”

“Nah, not at all. It’s like the opposite of how it was in my house growing up. It’s kind of weird when you think about how similar it is.” She tilts her head and smirks at him. “Plus, your accent is damn sexy.”

“Really now?” he purrs, inching closer to her before crawling over her and propping himself up on his forearms and knees, making sure not to press his weight down on her stomach. “You think I’m sexy?”

“I think your accent is sexy,” she corrects, her lips ticking up on one side while her hands frame his cheeks, cool fingertips inching up into her hair and tugging him down so that he can feel the heat of her breath brushing over her lips. “Would you like to get back to where I was trying to go earlier or can I cross off doing naughty things to you?”

“Whatever the first thing was, most definitely.”

He wakes later that morning while Emma slumbers on her side of the bed, hair tangled and falling down her bare back from where the comforter shifted in her sleep. He quietly gets out of bed, attempting not to wake her or Indy who must have wandered into the room while they were sleeping, and makes his way into the bathroom, turning the water in the shower on to get ready for today.

He should have woken an hour ago, but the bed was too comfortable and his body too tired, so he rushes through his morning routine, using Emma’s blow dryer to fix his hair instead of letting it dry naturally. He slips into a suit, putting on a pair of his ever-growing collection of cufflinks, before spritzing on his cologne and grabbing his already packed suitcase out of the closet, letting the wheels trail along the hardwood until he’s back in the bedroom.

Stepping over to the bed, he scratches behind Indy’s ears, the dog opening one eye to look at him before cuddling back into bed as he sits down next to Emma.

“Love,” he whispers, pushing her hair off of her forehead until her eyes flutter open, the green hazy and sleep-ridden, “I’ve got to go.”

“Already?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, leaning down and kissing her forehead, “my flight is in two hours, and Mum likes to travel early.”

Emma yawns before sitting up, pulling the comforter over her and looking every bit like the girl he met nearly eight years ago with her crazy hair and pillow creased face and complete lack of care if she looks put together or not. “Okay,” she sighs, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him into a hug, “but you two be safe. Call me when you land, when you come home, if anything interesting happens, if anything boring happens.”

“I know the long-distance drill, sweetheart.” He brushes his lips against hers then, feeling the softness that comes with Emma. “But it’s only two days. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Ugh, I know. Two days doesn’t give me nearly enough time to have my affair.”

“You’re a cheeky little minx, so I’m sure you could figure it out.”

“Damn right.” She kisses him again. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He reaches down and touches her stomach, her skin warm beneath his touch. “And you, little love.” Indy barks then, walking up the bed until she’s breathing in his face. “And you, Indy girl, even if you’re not supposed to be in this bed.”

He and his mother fly to Poland that morning for a dinner the British ambassador is hosting in honor of Liam and his birthday in a few weeks time. They were given short notice on the event, and since Liam couldn’t attend, Killian and Allison agreed to attend, knowing it would be no trouble for them. The morning flies by as all of these official visits do, in a flurry of handshakes and small talk, everyone attempting to fill his head with as much information as they can. It’s been awhile since he’s done an event with his mum, something he used to do when he was younger, but they fall into a natural rhythm. His mum is an expert at things like this, using her quick wit and kind smile to make everyone comfortable, and if there’s ever been anyone he’s tried to emulate, it would be her.

“Oh, this is gorgeous,” Allison compliments as they walk into the dining hall, her hand wrapped around his elbow. “We should decorate one of the rooms at home more like this. It’s more modern.”

“Well then we’d have to get rid of the ancient furniture that no one is allowed to sit on.”

She chuckles next to him as he pulls her chair out for her and waits for her to sit down before taking his own seat next to her. “You and your brother get cheekier the older you get, I swear. I’m pretty sure it’s supposed to be the other way around.”

“Well, you can’t take away our video game privileges now, mum.”

The dinner is indeed wonderful and full of Polish dishes and traditions celebrating Liam. He takes a video to send to his brother, making sure to capture the cake he knows Liam would be stuffing into his face and flipping the camera around to show the smirk on his face that he got to eat it.

Should have shown up to his own pre-birthday event.

Later that night he and his mum are driven back to their hotel, and while they have separate suites, she joins him for a cup of tea, settling down into the living room with the television playing the local news. His phone buzzes just as a segment on their visit begins, and he’s thankful for the excuse to mute the sound.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greets Emma, his lips stretching into a smile as he props his feet up on the coffee table, his socks practically falling off next to his glass, “did you miss me today?”

“Obviously. However could I survive twelve hours without you?”

Her voice is dripping with disdain, and he chuckles to himself as he imagines the roll of her eyes and the absolute disinterest she has when he’s being cocky. “You could at least act a little sad.”

“I can cry if you want me to, if that would make you feel better and boost your already inflated ego.”

“So you’re just as cheeky as you were this morning then. What’d you do today, love?”

“Absolutely nothing,” she sighs, the happiness seeping through the phone speaker. “I got dressed in pajamas, took Indy out, and then we settled down in the darkness of the bedroom and watched Gilmore Girls just to relive all of that nostalgia.”

“Ah, yes, I’m sure Indy has a lot of nostalgia about Stars Hollow.”

“Of course she does,” Emma laughs, and he can hear the theme song playing in the background. “Ruby came over for a few hours with food from the restaurant. I may save some leftovers for you.”

“Yeah, I already know that won’t be happening.”

“Hey, I don’t eat that much! I haven’t even gained any more than regular pregnancy weight.”

“Love, you and the Gilmore Girls all have amazing metabolisms. I’ve gained more pregnancy weight than you simply because our walks aren’t quite the same as our runs.”

“I can still run, you know? Dr. Hudson said so as long as it’s just a jog and not too much.”

“I know. We’ll have to do that when I get home. Mum and I ate a lot of cake tonight.”

Emma hums, sighing into the phone. “I’m jealous. Tell Allison I said hi when you see her in the morning.” “She’s sitting with me in the room right now actually, so if you were going to talk bad about her, now probably wouldn’t be the time.”

“Damn. That’s obviously what I was about to do.”

He and Emma chat for a few more minutes, but he knows he has to let her go so as not to be rude to his mother. She’s been fiddling with her phone and watching the muted television, so he’s sure she’s regretting coming over only to be usurped by a phone call.

“Hey, darling, I’ve got to let you go, okay?”

“Okay, is everything alright?”

“Everything is perfect. I’ve just been boring Mum making her listen to our conversation. I love you. I hope you, Indy, and little love have a good time binging the rest of Gilmore Girls and eating all of my food.” “We will,” she promises. “I love you, too. Bye, babe.”

He hangs up the phone, smiling at the picture of he and Emma that pops up afterward, before shutting it down and placing it on the arm of his chair. He looks up at his mother then who is softly smiling at him as if she really was listening to his conversation.

“What?” he laughs, feeling the slightest bit uncomfortable.

“Nothing,” she smiles, pulling her legs up underneath her and curling into the chair, “I was just thinking about how happy you are.”

His lips twitch, and he swallows the small lump of emotion in his throat. “Well, I am happy, Mum. I’m nearly always happy.”

“I know, I know,” she waves him away, tucking her long hair behind her ears, “but you’ve just been through so much and sometimes I look at you and wonder how I got so lucky that you’re my baby. And now you’re having a baby, and I’m emotional about it all of the time.”

“Mum,” he softly laughs, getting up from his seat to cross the room and crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his, “what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m simply a crazy old woman.”

“Well, we all know that’s not true,” he promises, guessing that it’s not the time to be making jokes. “You’re bloody brilliant and completely and totally young.”

“Thank you, Killian. It was just that I was watching how natural you are with Emma, how good you’ll both be as parents. And I guess sometimes I feel so much regret over not getting to see you both together for all of those years. You were so cheated.”

“Hey,” he soothes, running his thumb over her knuckles and ignoring the ache in his thighs from the squat, “it’s all okay. I know that a lot of it was bloody awful, but if I’m honest, I liked having those years with Emma. We got to fall in love in peace, and as wonderful as it would be for you to have gotten to know her sooner, we can’t change that. So let’s be happy, yeah?”

“I know, darling. I’m sorry, but being a mum and a grandmother, all you want is for your kids to be happy. And you feel a bit accomplished when you realize they are. You’ll understand that soon enough.”

“Well, once we get over the terror and get used to having a person’s entire life depend on us, yeah, sure, I’ll focus on the happiness.”

His mum releases his hand to stroke his forehead, pushing the hair back. “You two are going to be wonderful, and your baby is going to be the most beautiful little thing.” “Can you say that again for me to send to Liam and Abigail? I’d like to have it on record for bragging rights for the rest of eternity.”

His mother winks at him, smiling before leaning back in her chair and asking him what movie he wants to watch. It’s been a long time since he simply spent time with his mum with no one else, so he savors it, laughing with her and talking about anything she wants until she decides to go to bed in her room next door.

The following day is full of engagements, but the two of them manage to slip away to dinner and sightseeing that evening, covering themselves in the cool early April weather and hiding away from anyone who may recognize them so they can have a normal night. Overseas visits, even with all of their setbacks and frustrations, are some of his favorite things to do if only because he can sometimes slip away and be himself in a place where fewer people know him.

Of course, he managed to slip around London for a few years as well, but he’s decided that was some kind of bloody miracle.

Early Wednesday morning they board their flight and make their way home, the four-hour plane ride seemingly stretching on for double the time until they touch down on land again and he and his mother separate into their different vehicles to make their ways back to Kensington and Buckingham, respectively.

Walking in the front door, he knows Emma won’t be home as she’s at the opening of a youth theater, so he takes the opportunity to let Indy in from their garden, indulging her in her excitement over him being home, her tail wagging so furiously she could create a windstorm. After she’s calmed, he settles down into the living room and pulls up his laptop, answering emails and organizing his schedule all while watching the shows he missed.

Multi-tasking in the best way possible, really.

It’s hours later when he hears the front door open before closing and clicking into place as heels click on their hardwood floor, the sounds getting louder the nearer she gets.

“Hi,” Emma sighs when she walks into the living room, immediately walking toward him and straddling his lap, her knees on either side of his thighs, while she presses a lingering kiss to his jaw and scrapes her fingers through his hair, “I’m so, so, so glad you’re home.”

“Hmm, me too,” he smiles before slanting his lips over hers once, twice, three times. “As much fun as I had with my mother honoring my brother, I quite prefer your company. And I was promised leftovers.”

Emma laughs against his lips as the heat of her breath washes over him and he settles into contentment. “Babe, I hate to break it to you, but those did not last.”

“Well, I guess you’ll have to figure out a different way to welcome me home.”

She smirks before burying her face in his neck, her words spoken against his skin. “A foot rub would be fantastic, thanks. Those heels are a killer.”

Without his permission, not that it has ever been that way before, the first few weeks of April pass in the blink of an eye. He wants his life to slow down, for moments to pass like waves crashing into the shore, continuous and only quickly during a storm, but that’s simply not how things work.

Of course, there are times when he’d like life to speed up the slightest bit, and right now is one of those times.

He’s been sitting on the bed thumbing through his phone for twenty-seven minutes now, half of it spent reading an article about hair loss genes being passed down simply because that’s what was at the top of the page, but he’s gotten a bit bored. There’s also the fact that they’re going to be late for Emma’s doctor’s appointment if she doesn’t hurry up. She always takes longer than him to get ready, but it’s never like this, especially when they’re just hopping over to the doctor’s office and then coming back home to get ready for Liam’s birthday party tonight.

Sighing, he rolls over on the bed until he’s standing, pulling his jeans up so that they rest on his hips, and walks into the bathroom to find it empty of Emma but with clothes strewn across the floor. He tentatively steps over them, keeping himself from picking them up and throwing them in the basket, and makes his way into the closet where Emma is stretched out on the floor with her arms over her face and her jeans on but unbuttoned and unzipped.

Bloody hell, it’s a mess in here.

“Hey,” he tentatively begins, kicking at her bare feet with the tip of his boot so that she uncovers one of her eyes, “what’s happening here?”

“My jeans don’t fit. Not a single pair of them except for the ones that have yellow paint on the ass because mom decided she wanted to have a sunny yellow living room.”

“And this is surprising to you because?”

“Because last week my jeans fit, and this week they don’t. That is some kind of fucked up thing.”

“I believe that’s called pregnancy.”

Her eyes slant and every bit of joy that was remaining on her face disappears while she stares up at him like she’s five seconds away from murdering him. “I will stab you with the first earring I find if you don’t wipe that smug smirk off your face.”

He chuckles under his breath, knowing that she’ll likely do it, before squatting down and lying on the floor next to her, emulating her position. The hardwood hurts his back, but he imagines they won’t be here for long. If they are, he’ll just have to suck it up until this all important jeans situation is resolved.

“So your jeans won’t fit, love?”

“Nope. And I don’t really think I’ve gotten that much bigger. I still just kind of look like I ate too big of a meal when I’m wearing clothes. I don’t know why this is bothering me so much. Obviously, I can just do the hairband trick until I buy new jeans, but I love wearing the damn things. They make me feel normal.”

“What? Wearing heels and a dress that perfectly matches your coat with a hat that was specifically dyed to match that coat and dress doesn’t make you feel normal? I never would have guessed.”

She snorts beside him while her hand finds his, and she wraps her fingers around his palm before pulling it up and brushing a kiss against his skin. “Surprisingly, no, that does not make me feel normal. That makes me feel like a barbie doll.”

“You’re not a barbie doll, love.”

She sighs next to him, but it’s really more of a huff. She’s frustrated, that much he knows, and a part of him is pretty sure that it’s not only because her jeans don’t fit. So he squeezes her hand, silently encouraging her to share her thoughts as he so often does with a touch or a glance.

“That’s just how I feel sometimes, you know? And I know that’s not how it is with you and me. But to the world it’s like I’m this girl who plays dress up and is a wife and an expectant mother and nothing else, which is fine if that’s what you want. And babe, I love that. I love being married to you and having a baby with you who I am so in love with it’s basically an obsession, but if I have to answer one more question about if I think you’re going to change a diaper or wake up in the middle of the night if the baby’s crying, which is literally what a parent does, while you stand next to me and answer a question about global relations, I’m going to lose my damn mind.”

“I know,” he mumbles, the weight and unfairness of her words settling into him. “I’m sorry that you’re so frustrated, and I’m sorry that some people are stuck in an old-timey world view.” He releases her hand and twists on the ground, propping his head up in his hand while looking Emma in the eye. “Why don’t you take up a patronage or two dealing with women’s rights or something similar? I know everyone was on the fence of that because they thought it was too political, but fuck that, Emma. If that’s something you want to do, you sure as hell should do it. It’s not political. It’s human, and you would be an incredible ambassador. You should do things that make you happy.”

Her eyes light up, lips twitching into a smile. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely. The fact that we don’t have any specifically for that is bullocks when we support nearly everything. You could help so many people, and I think you’d be a bloody rockstar at it.”

“I know I would.”

“That’s the spirit,” he encourages, leaning over and brushing a kiss against her lips, letting it go a little further than either of them should when they have to be somewhere soon. “But right now we’ve got to go see if I’m going to win our bet because we’ll finally see that our little love is a girl.”

“You keep thinking that. Also, there was no bet, and if there was, I never lose.”

“Oh shit, that’s cold,” Emma gasps as Dr. Hudson applies gel to her bared stomach, her bump only sticking up the slightest bit while she wears her jeans buttoned together with a hairband, the determined lass. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to that.”

“Most people never do,” Dr. Hudson assures them. “So all of your tests look good, everything in normal levels. Are we having any dizzy spells?”

“No,” Emma answers, her eyes focused on the screen that’ll show the baby in a few seconds, “I haven’t. And my diet and eating times are so regularly scheduled and planned thanks to the obsessed man next to me, so I’ve been feeling really good.”

Her hand finds his so much like earlier, and he clasps it between both of his hands before leaning down to kiss her forehead. “She’s been doing well, not a lot of symptoms.”

“Well, she’s in that wonderful sweet spot of the pregnancy. It usually only gets worse from here.”

“That’s not very encouraging.”

Dr. Hudson laughs before focusing all of her attention back on the ultrasound, the baby’s heartbeat suddenly sounding throughout the room. God, the first time he heard it, the rhythmic beat so much calmer than his own, he nearly cried. Okay, so he might have cried, a few tears slipping from his eyes. Emma didn’t even cry until later when she came home with the picture and fell apart saying she couldn’t see the baby and felt like Rachel from Friends.

But he’s grown accustomed to the sound of their child’s heartbeat now, and as the picture pops up on the screen, she’s as clear as can be.

“So we’re looking really healthy, heartbeat is good, growth is good. And you’re eighteen weeks now, so while sometimes I can’t tell, I can tell you the gender today, if that’s what you want?”

He looks down at Emma to find her already looking up at him, a smile gracing her lips as she nods in confirmation. “We want to know.”

“Alright,” Dr. Hudson smiles, looking at the monitor one last time, “you two are the lucky parents to a boy.”

A boy.

He’s going to have a son.

Holy shit, Emma’s never going to let him live this down, but he doesn’t care at this point. They’re having a boy.

“I told you so,” Emma chuckles, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. “I am never letting you live this one down.”

“I know.” He dips his head down to brush his lips against hers, squeezing her hand as tightly as possible as this begins to sink in even more. “Maybe I’ll get the next one right.”

“One human coming into the world out of my vagina at a time please.”

“You have such a way with words.”

“Just being honest,” she laughs, the sound as beautiful as the heartbeat still playing on the monitor. “I love you.”

“I love you too. And the little lad.”

“Yeah, and the little lad.”

He and Emma walk across the gardens to Liam and Abigail’s apartment, Emma’s heels clicking against the cobblestone. He already knows that she’ll be wearing his shoes on the short walk home, but she’d insisted she wear the heels for the portrait they’re taking to commemorate Liam’s fortieth birthday. It’s apparently a major milestone in life, deserving of an official portrait, and as much as he loves his brother, he thinks Liam’s a tad bit over the top.

But he and Liam differ in a lot of ways, Liam’s penchant for large celebrations and dinners with several courses while in evening wear one of those things. They were both raised this way, to expect and want dinners and parties like this, and maybe once upon a time had he never met Emma, that’s how he would celebrate all of his birthdays.

His wife, God bless her, is a fan of the simple things in life. She likes eating takeout on the couch with her feet tucked under her legs which are likely clothed in leggings that have a hole on the inside of her thigh. She enjoys sitting around watching television in the darkness of their bedroom for hours on end, sometimes an entire day (or two), and if she could, she’d probably spend the rest of her time in the garden throwing a ball for Indy to chase. For his birthday, all they did was a small dinner with friends and family, and it was perfect. He couldn’t have asked for anything more.

But he doesn’t mind the party Liam and Abigail are having. Everyone can enjoy what they want, and this day isn’t about him. It’s about his brother.

He and Emma step up to their front door, the towering black wood with moss looming above them, and he’s just about to knock on the door when Emma stops him with a hand on his forearm.

“What?” he laughs, turning to face her, their height difference almost gone with her heels.

“You have to be careful with how you talk about the baby. We’re keeping the sex a secret, remember?”

“Darling, I think they know we had sex. That’s not a secret.”

Her face scrunches up, and he leans down to brush a kiss against her lips before leaving a trail of kisses across her face, making her laugh under her breath.

“You’re going to make dad jokes. I already know.”

“I’ve been preparing for it with my humor for my entire life.” He grins, kissing her again simply because he can. “But I promise I’ll be on my best behavior, and I won’t mention our joyful news. As far as anyone in there knows, we know nothing.”

“That’s right Jon Snow.”

“Hey,” he chuckles, wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her into his side before knocking on the door and ringing the doorbell, “he lived in the series, so that’s totally not an insult.”

The door opens before Emma can say anything else, Liam appearing on the other side of the door in his suit. “Hey guys,” he greets, a bright smile on his face as he takes a step back, “why don’t you come on in?”

“So nice of you to invite us into your home when we were supposed to be here,” he snarks, knowing it’ll rile Liam.

“Well, I was going to say I’m glad to see you, but I’m apparently only glad to see Emma. Hello, love,” he smiles before leaning into kiss Emma on the cheek and wrap her in a hug. “How are you today?”

“Good, great really. Happy birthday, old man.”

Liam barks out a laugh before releasing Emma, clapping her on the shoulder and throwing her a wink. “Has Killian been calling me older brother, emphasis on the older, all day?”

“Surprisingly not, but that’s just because he calls you an old wanker all of the time anyways.”

“No bit of that surprises me.”

Liam embraces him then, wrapping his arms around Killian’s shoulders as Killian does the same. “Happy birthday, olderbrother. What’d you buy for your midlife crisis?”

“Saving the sportscar for the fiftieth birthday. I’m not old yet, thank you very much.”

“You two are ridiculous,” Emma laughs, walking past the both of them and down the hall where he spies Alexander and Elizabeth running between the archways.

“Are we?” Liam questions, patting him in the back before following Emma. “I don’t think anyone has ever described us that way.”

“There’s a first for everything.”

The two of them find everyone in the dining room, roaming throughout the table and the bar that’s set up through the next room. Emma’s animatedly chatting with Abigail, her hands moving all over the place while Lizzie tugs at her dress until Emma picks her up and rests her on her hip. There’s several of Liam’s old military friends as well as a few of he and Abigail’s friends who he recognizes from events over the years. Their home is packed, chatter filling his ears while he goes around greeting everyone before stopping at the bar and ordering a glass of rum.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be in solidarity with your wife?”

He turns to the side and smiles down at Abigail, kissing her temple after he finishes his sip. “Hello, darling. Did Emma send you over here to tell me that?”

“No, but I remember being pregnant and my husband’s lips tasting like whiskey after a party.”

He chuckles under his breath, finding Emma talking to his parents before turning back to look at Abigail. “The only problem with that statement is that Liam drinks whiskey instead of rum. Bloody awful drink. And I’ve cut back on the coffee and tea in solidarity, thank you very much.”

“Oh well look at you Mr. Big Shot,” she jokes, squeezing his bicep. “You’re just so kind.”

“Someone is awfully sassy today, love. Is it because you’ve realized you’re married to an old man and are compensating?”

“Exactly. I’m trying to cope with his ancient age.” “That’s what I thought. I’m going to go kiss Emma so she tastes the rum since I’m just that evil.”

Abigail snorts next to him, and he leaves her with a smile before making his way to Emma and kissing her before she gets a chance to say anything. He lets his tongue flicker out so she can taste the rum, his own little private joke, but he doesn’t think she minds from the way she hums into it. His parents probably mind from the way they cough next to him, but they can wait.

“Hi,” Emma whispers when he pulls back, “did you forget we’ve got company, tiger?”

“No. I just didn’t bloody care.”

His parents laugh behind him, and he turns to greet them then, hugging his parents and asking them how they’re doing before they get called off to chat. Liam really should have held this dinner somewhere other than his home for how many people are in here, and Emma asks him to go sit in the other room, quiet surrounding them until Alex runs in and practically jumps on Emma’s stomach with all the force of his bony limbs.

“Mummy told me that you have a baby in your belly, Emmy.”

“Well, your Mummy is a smart lady because I do have a baby in my belly.”

“Wow,” Alex gasps, his eyes lighting up as he puts his hands on Emma’s stomach before looking up at her and speaking in the cutest little voice with his broken words that are constantly getting better. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“We don’t know yet,” Emma lies, and Killian chuckles next to her, rubbing up and down her back. “That’s going to be a surprise.”

Alex huffs and crosses his arms, obviously cross at them for not letting him know if his cousin is going to be a boy or a girl. It’s likely a good thing he wasn’t old enough to understand this all when Abigail was pregnant with Lizzie because he would have been up in arms about all of the surprises and secrets. “What’s its name?”

“We don’t know that either, buddy,” he answers to try to take some of Alex’s blame off of Emma. 

“I think you should name it Fish.”

Emma snickers next to him, biting her bottom lip to try to contain it. It’s then that he gets an idea, sticking out his stomach as far as he can and making himself look bloated. “What about me, buddy? Does Uncle Killian look like he’s having a baby?”

“Uncle Killian looks like a silly goose,” Abigail coos as she steps in the room, squatting down next to Alex, “and you look like someone who needs to go to sleep.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You have to. It’s bedtime.”

Alex’s bottom lip starts quivering while his eyes begin to water, the meltdown imminent. Within seconds Abigail has him on her hip walking out of the ballroom and meeting Liam and Elizabeth by the doorway, the two of them walking away to put their kids to bed like some kind of well-oiled machine.

“You know, Abigail isn’t even my mother, and if she told me it was time to go to bed, I’d listen.”

Emma giggles beside him, leaning back into the couch and into him before resting her head on his shoulder. He kisses her hair while he rubs her back, knowing she’s likely tired when they’ll still be here for awhile, but it’s only a short walk home if she asks for it.

“You are a very smart man because you listen to all of the women in your life.”

“Damn right. Even Lizzie. She’s two, but she’s the boss.”

“Who’s the boss?” Brennan asks them, settling down on the couch across the coffee table from them. “Because the answer better be your mother or Emma. If not, you are lying, son.”

“Lizzie,” Emma answers for him, patting his stomach before her hand rests on his thigh, squeezing a little too high as if she’s trying to rouse him. “Lizzie is the boss.”

“Damn right,” Brennan laughs, echoing Killian’s words from a moment ago even if he didn’t hear them. “I’ve never seen a kid with such spunk.”

“Oi, I had that kind of spunk, dad. Still do.”

“Yeah, but you’re old now. I don’t remember these things.”

“Your firstborn is forty! I’m still barely in my thirties! How can you call me old? You’re the oldest person at this party.”

“And the most handsome,” Allison adds in, sitting down next to Brennan and brushing a kiss against his cheek. His parents were never affectionate before, and as happy as he is with everyone’s changes, his fifteen-year-old self is cringing watching them be that way. But it’s only in the best way, his family having felt like a family for two years now, and no part of him would trade things to go back to how they were.

Eventually dinner is served and everyone sits down at the large table, silverware clicking against plates and the laughter and chatter in the home only increasing the more people drink (except for he and Emma of course because he does abstain in solidarity sometimes). There’s several stories about Liam told, some he’d never heard before, and his stomach hurts from laughter. God, his brother was such a crack up, something he never really knew, and he wishes they’d gotten along all of those years.

But they didn’t. There was too much of an age discrepancy, too much of a difference in wants out of life, and most of all, too much hostility. He loves his brother, something that took him a long time to admit, but Liam’s not perfect. He can still be a bloody git and they still argue over some things, but he’s changed. And while there are still flashes of the day he came to this very home to confront his brother, to try to work things through only to be rejected and told that Liam’s only trying to do better for his children, he’s come to terms with it. They can’t change the past. They can’t take things away or add words left unsaid, but forgiveness even when the other person doesn’t deserve it is a powerful thing.

Or so he’s been learning over the past few years.

This is infinitely better than any life he could have lived away from his parents and his brother. And he’d have given it all up for Emma. There’s no doubt about it, and he still fully believes that. She’s worth it all. But this is better.

“Hey,” Emma whispers, rubbing between his shoulder blades before her hand finds the hair at the tape of his neck, causing shivers to run down his spine, “what are you thinking about? You’ve zoned out.”

He hums, closing his eyes before leaning over and kissing her temple, the vanilla of her shampoo invading him. “I was thinking about you.”

“Cheesy.” “Absolutely. But also the truth. I just…all of these stories about Liam, they make me realize how glad I am that we went through all of that to fix it and came out better on the other side because now I have stories to tell about him like that.” “I thought you were thinking about me.”

“Well, that came after thinking about my brother.” “That’s kind of gross.”

“Yeah, well, I was thinking about how I’m glad we’re here, but I’d still give it all up for you. And for the little love, my love.” “Well,” Emma smiles, tangling their fingers together under the table, “the good thing is that you don’t have to. We’re all a big, messy, wonderful package that you get for the rest of your life whether you like it or not.”

[eternityunicorn]

Elijah’s Eternity: New Orleans Part Twenty Two +18

Author: eternityunicorn 

Genre: Romance/Drama/AU

Pairing: Elijah Mikealson x OC

Warnings: Some Smut (*Smut chapters marked +18)

Summary: Sequel to the AU Elijah’s Eternity - Ten years have passed, a mournful Elijah has finally started to move on without his lady. In that time, he has gained a reunited family and has also found a new lady love. Yet, all is not well as danger comes for the smallest member of the Mikaelson family: Hope, and it prompts Niklaus to call upon the white goddess, drawing her back into Elijah’s life. As they reunite, can Elijah really say he’s truly moved on?

NOTE: OC and original elements are from my up and coming novel series!

———————————————————————————————————

As Elijah predicted, abstaining from intimacy had been extremely difficult, especially since he hadn’t a need to hold back from his desires in the past. It was like having an addiction and trying to quit said addiction cold turkey verses doing so gradually. It was nearly impossible to do, even with impeccable control over oneself. And he had flawless control.

The first day had been particularly unbearable, but only because of the trauma he and Eternity had both faced just the day befriend. He had wanted her close, wanted her intimacy, to comfort them both, but with Kaname’s rule, they were forced to only give each other innocent touches and chaste kisses. These had been all fine and well, but he craved more. A feeling made worse as that night, they were also forced into separate chambers for rest. 

The second day had been much like the first, their interactions had been chaste and innocent to the point of driving Elijah to madness. Though, he did well in his management of keeping up appearances, keeping his inner torment masked behind his typical cool and collective exterior. Despite this act, however, he couldn’t help but to steal more kisses from his lady than usual and to give her seemingly innocent touches with hidden meaning every chance he got, whenever Kaname was otherwise occupied. It was their hidden language, their secret way of communicating their mutual desire for the other, while adhering to the priestess’s rules.

By the third day, the eve of their wedding, Elijah found himself a mess of need, joy, and excitement. Things that he couldn’t not share with his bride-to-be. The magically inclined Eternity kept herself busy with preparing the shrine for the wedding the following morning, before everyone started coming in from the other side of the world, along with Kaname and Fenrir. This left him to wander the grounds in a fitful ball of energy, praying for a distraction from all the pent up emotions welling up inside that he hadn’t a satisfactory release for.

Fortunately, his saving distraction came when his siblings began to arrive at the shrine. First it was Rebekah and Marcel with Kol and Davina. Then Finn and Sage with Freya and Keelin. Finally, Niklaus and Hayley arrived with young Hope soon after his older brother and sister. The reunion between Niklaus, Hayley, Hope with everyone else had been something to celebrate and certainly took Elijah’s mind off his struggles to abstain from his need for intimacy with Eternity. 

He spent his time with his whole reunited family, a joy in itself. Everyone was curious to know how life under the mysterious Underground Agency had been for the hybrid couple and their daughter since they rarely communicated due to the safety measures in place for their daughter. 

Niklaus spoke of intense training that he and Hayley had gone through as per the upcoming higher order ritual Eternity wished to perform, getting a head start on everyone else in that department. Even Hope had gone through rigorous teachings to make herself stronger as a Mikaelson witch.

“I never knew my true potential until I went to the Agency,” Elijah’s brother told him and their siblings. “I am a whole new creature already and I cannot wait to see how much further my future sister-in-law’s spell will take me, my wife and child, and all of you, of course. We shall all be of a new breed of being in this world.”

“I still think it is a terrible idea to let you have more power, Niklaus,” Finn piped up in that cynical way of his. “Same with Kol. The two of you are the most chaotic and monstrous of us. I fear it might be a mistake to allow either of you access to such greater strength, but who am I to question the will of a goddess.”

“Yes, it is a good thing this is not your decision to make, my dear Finn,” Elijah replied with a tight smile, before Niklaus or Kol could respond. “My beloved bride-to-be knows what she is doing. If our more adventurous siblings get too far out of line, I am certain she will put them in their much deserved places. Though something tells me that both shall forever remain on their best behaviors, as neither would want to feel the wrath of the Universal Queen.” He eyed his younger siblings meaningfully.

“Hey, I’m not the murder happy lunatic I was,” Kol defended himself, as he threw an arm around Davina who stood beside him. “I found a reason to temper my violent bloodlust,” he said as he gazed lovingly at the witch.

Niklaus put his hand on his heart with the most serious expression etched upon his face, “I swear to never abuse the powers and strengths granted to me by the gracious and merciful Universal Queen.”

“And you better hold to that vow, Niklaus,” called Eternity suddenly, as she approached the Mikealson clan, coming to stand beside Elijah. 

Niklaus nodded to her, “I swear it that I will uphold the vow made, just as I uphold always and forever.”

The well-dressed Original had to shove his hands in his pants pockets to keep from the temptation of whisking her away to do unmentionable things to her, but Elijah still smiled affectionately at her as she touched his arm in affection. 

“Have you finished your preparations for tomorrow morning, Sweetheart?” He asked her.

“Aye, we are all set for our wedding,” she replied brightly. “It shall be a splendid affair.”

“Uni!” Shouted Hope as the child caught eye of the immortal queen and came running over to hug Eternity tightly. 

“Hope!” The ethereal beauty bent to the girl’s level and embraced her just as tightly, before pulling back and holding the child at arms length. She grinned mischievously as she said, “I have missed you, young one. Come. Run with me!”

Stepping back away from Elijah, Eternity grinned and then changed shape right before all their eyes. With a loud musical sound, the unicorn took the place of the woman and the strange white beast didn’t waste time in racing off toward the woods. Young Hope laughed and went after her, while her family looked on with a mix of wonder, awe, and concern.

They all watched with fascination as the forest seemed to awaken from sleep upon the unicorn’s entrance. The quiet woods transformed into a lively place, bright and beautiful under the power of the mythical creature. It was unlike anything any of them had ever seen, save for Elijah, of course.

There were a lot of sniffles that waffled into the air even after the unicorn had raced off. Elijah’s siblings and their significant others all wiped their eyes of tears that had sprung up, curious and concerned as to why that was happening to them. Elijah felt teary eyed as well, but was certainly more prepared for that automatic reaction to the sight of the unicorn than the others.

“Bloody hell,” Kol said as he scrubbed the tears from his face. “What sorcery is this?”

“It’s not sorcery, just a natural response to seeing a unicorn,” chuckled Elijah, as he took his handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped his own eyes. “I’m not sure why it happens, only that it does when faced with the powerful sight of a unicorn.”

Hayley, with a slightly concerned expression as she dabbed her eyes dry, turned to Elijah, “Will Hope be alright out there?”

The older Original nodded, “Yes, she is with Eternity. There is nobody whom can protect her better than the powerful Universal Queen. You have nothing to fear.”

Realizing she was being silly right away, the female hybrid nodded back rapidly, “Yeah, yeah, right. Sorry, it’s just that I’m a little paranoid, I guess, with this Bruno person wanting to take Hope’s powers. I don’t feel very safe being outside of the protection of the Underground Agency, not after all the witch, vampire, and wolf killings that have happened because of that monster.”

“There is nowhere safer than these woods, my dear,” called Kaname suddenly, as she came to greet the newcomers. “That fiendish maniac Bruno wouldn’t dare to try and enter this sacred place. At least, not after what happened the last time he made such an attempt.” She smirked mysteriously. “Dark creatures, like him and some of you lot, are typically not allowed in this holy place, but I made a special exception for you lot, per my cousin’s request. Nothing unholy can penetrate this sacred place without my permission.”

At everyone’s curious looks in face of yet another Eternity clone, Elijah stepped up to introduce the miko, “Everyone, this is Kaname, Eternity’s cousin. She is our gracious host and will be the one to perform the wedding in the morning.”

Greetings were passed around quickly as everyone quickly dismissed the fact that Kaname was very much a clone of Elijah’s bride-to-be, just as Hel was. They were getting used to the idea that there was a strong family resemblance in Eternity’s family. 

Speaking of resemblances, Fenrir, the male version of Eternity, soon joined them as well, greeting everyone shyly in an awkward teen sort of way. He came to stand by him, choosing to be close to someone familiar with all the newcomers of whom remained unfamiliar.

From there, everyone settled in. There was talk and celebration of the joyous occasion that was to come in the morning. Elijah felt himself relax a great deal with the distraction of his family. It helped that his lady was elsewhere, far out of his reach, for the time being.

While he had kept occupied with his family, Eternity and Hope had been off on an adventure through the forest and they didn’t return to the shrine until sundown. When they did, Elijah’s niece was covered in dirt and grime, while the unicorn remained untouched by the filth of nature. The child had come back quite happy, giddy in fact, from whatever activities they had gotten themselves into in the hour or so that they had been gone. 

Hayley had insisted that Hope take a bathroom seeing her dirty child, which had dampened the girl’s good mood a little. However, Elijah’s niece did as her mother asked and went into the shrine to bathe. Kaname followed them to help out and to also prepare dinner, particularly for the non-vampires amongst the group, whom needed human food to survive. 

Niklaus had informed his vampire siblings that he had brought along an ample amount of blood bags for them, supplied to him by the staff at the Underground Agency. Therefore, nobody would need to go hunting in town for sustenance, while they were in Tokyo. It was best not to stir up trouble, Elijah’s brother had said.

That was good, especially for Elijah, whom hadn’t been able to feed off of Eternity during their period of abstinence. He wouldn’t be able to until after their wedding the next day. This was mostly because the temptation to take things further would be too great, if he did, as his lady tended to get off on his feeding from her. The sweet scent of her resulting arousal would drive him to take her completely without hesitation. 

So, to adhere by Kaname’s rules, it was best to not even tempt fate by taking her blood. Fortunately, Elijah hadn’t felt the hunger since arriving, after he had fed from Eternity in the back of the car that had brought them to the shrine and had remained subdued thus far. At least, he only had to make it a night more before he could resume feeding from his lady.

Not wanting to let his mind wander to the erotic memories that threaten to come to the forefront of his mind at the mention of the car incident, for the rest of the evening, he continued to occupy himself with the consistent talk amongst his family. In celebratory mode, drinks and laugher were abound as everyone sat down to a delicious dinner, magicked together by Kaname and Fenrir. 

Though the shrine was small, there was just enough room to flit everyone around the low set table for dinner. It was a tight fit, but they made do with being in such close quarters. Eternity had returned to her womanly form and sat next to Elijah with her son sitting on the other side of her. Niklaus sat on the other side of himself.

The chatter was pleasant and full of questions about Kaname, such as how old she was and why she continued to live on Earth, despite the laws that had separated the ancient immortals from the  the mortal world. The miko answered all their questions politely with a bit of amusement coloring her voice as she did. Something that reminded Elijah so much of Eternity, as she had that same look upon her face when she had first met his siblings.

The older Original listened with fascination as Kaname explained that she was over ten thousand years old, had lived during Ceres’ time, and had chosen to remain on Earth because it was her home that no other world could replace. Though that wasn’t the on,y reason. She had chosen to dedicate her life to helping mortals whom were desperately in need of divine intervention. She enjoyed humans and want to help them in one way or another, even if she only helped in small individual doses. 

Eventually, the meal and conversations wound down. Eternity took the opportunity to excuse herself, heading outside. She cast a glance at Elijah before she did so that was full of hidden meaning. 

Curious, Elijah followed, slipping away stealthily as to not arouse Kaname’s suspicious eye. The miko had made it a point to ensure the pair behaved themselves until the wedding; an annoyance, but an understandable one. She had become their designated babysitter during the past few days.

He found his lady standing underneath the torii gate gazing up at the stars that had begun to appear in the darkening sky. Elijah went to her, coming to stand behind her with his arms wrapped around her waist. He pulled her back against him with his head against the side of hers. He felt her hand come up and cover his while the other moved to cup the back of his head, holding him there. 

“And just why have you come out here, Sweetheart?” He asked her softly.

“I simply wanted to enjoy the nighttime...and I was hoping you would get the hint to follow me,” Eternity replied coyly, the smile evident in her voice. She turned in his embrace and kissed his lips sweetly. “I wanted a moment alone with you. We haven’t had much of that, not with the wedding preparations and Kaname’s insistent hovering. She takes tradition seriously, perhaps too much so.”

Elijah had to agree there. Though with his lady so close, he found it hard to keep his impulsive desires at bay. The struggle returned quickly with her nestled between his arms, her body nearly flush with his own. Perhaps the miko was in the right mind in keeping their interactions to a minimum.

Then Eternity smiled seductively and the Original knew he was in trouble. Her lips were upon his needfully with her arms wound around his neck and her fingers threaded through his hair. 

He gave in without hesitation, unable to resist her. He pried her mouth open with his tongue and diving in to taste her throughly. He pressed he closer, wanting to feel her body against his fully in ways he hadn’t been able to in days - ones that he still wouldn’t be able to until the following day.

“You have no idea how much I want you,” he growled against her lips, before resuming his plundering of her mouth.

“I think I do,” Eternity replied breathlessly, once she could will her mouth from his, just as one of her naughty little hands travelled down his front, over his chest to his abdomen to his clothed hardness.

Elijah gasped at the suddenness of her caress, having not anticipated her grabbing him so boldly. Then he hissed as she palmed him through his pants. It was enough to drive him to forget Kaname’s conditions for performing the wedding ceremony and have his bride-to-be as he had been wanting to for days.

Eternity was a bad influence, he concluded, and the chink in his self-control.

“Eternity,” he ground out, as he reigned in his control. 

Elijah willed himself to catch her misbehaving hand and pulled it away from his person. His gaze was surely fiery as he stared at her while he lifted the offending hand and kissed the palm tenderly. Then he returned it to it’s place around his neck. 

“You are going to be the death of me, I swear it,” he breathed with a wicked grin. “I cannot wait until after our wedding, because then this horrid abstinence period will be over and I shall take great joy in ravaging you completely.”

Eternity shivered pleasurably at his tone of dark promises and smiled. She kissed him with just as much seductive passion as before, while Elijah swore inwardly at her insistence to tempt him, to test him this way. She knew well that he wouldn’t allow for things to go further, no matter how much he wanted to. 

Still, Elijah allowed her to kiss him hungrily, letting her taste him as she pleased, before returning her affections tenfold by shoving her tongue out of his mouth and diving into hers with a need like no other. One of his hands wandered over the silkiness of her white and purple kimono, skimming over her breasts, kneading the flesh through the fabric. The other cupped the side of Eternity’s neck, holding her firmly while he plundered her mouth.

Things quickly grew heated all over again and Elijah found himself nearly lost to the passion that burned between them this time. Control be damned.

“Cousin!” Kaname’s stern voice called, snuffing out the passionate fire immediately. “Mr. Mikaelson!” 

As the guilty parties turned to face her, the priestess put her hands on her hips, like a parent that had just caught her children doing something they shouldn’t be. She looked very displeased with the little make out session they had been engaged in.

Instantaneously, Eternity pulled away from him and had enough sense to look sheepishly at her cousin, though it was obvious that she didn’t regret their moment together. Meanwhile, Elijah put his hands in his pants pockets and gazed at the older immortal with slight bashfulness and a hint of smugness. He certainly didn’t regret it either. Their moment together had been worth it.

“Forgive me, cousin,” Eternity said with a slight bow of her head, though by her tone, it was obvious she didn’t actually mean it. 

“Come inside, right now,” Kaname insisted and then chastised, “You two cannot be left alone. No self-control.”

The couple gazed at each other, before they broke out into smiles and light laughter as they made their way back inside the shrine. The whole while Eternity’s cousin lectured them as they followed her back to the others, where Elijah’s siblings began to tease them for whatever they had gotten themselves in trouble for.

Elijah let their teasing  slide off of him, as he found himself too distracted by the woman next to him, as they retook their seats at the low table. He simply couldn’t wait until the following morning, when Eternity would finally be his wife and they could finally start their life together as one unit. 

If only morning would hurry up and arrive sooner to put him out of his misery. 

To Be Continued....

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Tag List: @elejah-wonderland @rissyrapp20 @mikaelson-trash @dendrite-lover @inmylifeilovedthemall @elejahforever @xanderling @hawaiianohana15 @missnmikealson @phoenix-potter-bailey @lolelijahishot @x-memi12 @iamaquarius2 @echosnowflake666 @scarlettsky0998 @zillahvathek @elijahandkollover

[adorkablephil]

Fic: The Roles We Play (6)

Title: The Roles We Play Summary: Dan Howell and Phil Lester work together as voice actors for BBC radio dramas in the late 1930s, but slowly begin to develop “inappropriate” feelings for each other Rating: G Word Count: 6,941 (this chapter) Tags: Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Historical AU, 1930s, BBC, Radio, Actors AU, Slow Burn, Love Letters, Past Character Death, Grief, Angst Author’s Note: This fic was inspired by the @phanfichallenge 20k History Challenge. A bazillion thanks, as always, to my amazing beta, India! This chapter, in particular, gave me some trouble (due to rl stress), and India was my total hero.

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8 January 1939

Dan arrived at rehearsal the next day only to find Phil unexpectedly absent. He waited and waited, watching the door, because he and Phil usually chatted a bit before the rehearsal started, but that tall, slim form never appeared.

“Mr. Lester has been called away on urgent business,” Drury announced at the start of the rehearsal, making Dan start. He looked around in hope of some explanation. “It is regrettable, of course, since he plays one of our most important roles in this production, but Mr. Joseph Walker will be reading his part during the rehearsals until Mr. Lester is able to return. He fully expects to return before we broadcast on 18 January, but if he is unable to be present by that time, or if he is unable to attend enough of the rehearsals, then Mr. Walker will read the role of Jack in his place.”

Dan had great difficulty focusing on the rehearsal and flubbed his lines several times. Drury grew increasingly impatient with him until finally he simply cut the rehearsal short, sniffing disapprovingly, “I hope we shall all find ourselves more fully present and focused tomorrow.”

Unsure what to do, Dan went home and phoned Phil’s house. Gemma answered the phone, sounding coolly polite as she informed him that Mr. Lester was with family at present and might be away for some time. When Dan pressed for more information, she simply told him that Phil had given her no estimated date of his return and that there was not, to the best of her knowledge, any family tragedy involved.

Phil had simply decided he must spend some time with his family.

He’d said nothing about this the previous night when they’d been chatting after dinner, so something must have come up quite suddenly. And Dan did not understand why Gemma seemed so much less friendly. Was it perhaps that her easy, teasing demeanor depended on Phil’s presence? Or was it something so simple as feeling more formal on the telephone than in person? Whatever the reason, it made Dan uneasy. He had been looking for reassurance in phoning Phil’s home, but had received none. He knew it would be inappropriate to request the phone number of the Lester family residence, so he did not ask, no matter how much he longed to do so.

Had the baby suddenly fallen ill? Dan hoped dearly that young Steven was safe and healthy. Or Mrs. Lester? He thought of the woman gently kissing him on the cheek at Christmas. He thought of each of Phil’s family members in turn and fervently wished them all well.

Most of all, he hoped that Phil himself was well. Why had he not phoned? Why had he sent Dan no message whatsoever? Why had he simply left without a word?

Dan changed out of his suit and into a comfortable pair of slacks and the oatmeal-colored jumper Mrs. Lester had knitted for him. He curled up on the sofa in his lounge under a thick blanket and sent all his anxious good wishes winging toward the north.

******

13 January 1939

After what seemed an interminable length of time, Phil reappeared at rehearsal one morning, and Dan immediately ran to him. “Is everyone well? Is young Steven in good health? Are your parents well?” he asked in a torrent of words, voicing all his worries of the past week.

Phil smiled a little, though he looked rather more pale than usual and a little sad. Phil did not reach out to rest his hand on Dan’s shoulder or arm as he had so often done in the past, but just looked down at the floor and then back into Dan’s eyes. Dan braced himself for the worst.

“I’m sorry I left you with such uncertainty,” Phil apologized, but he seemed distant. He had been gone from London for days, but the tone of his words now made him seem even further away than he had been yesterday, despite their now being in the same room. “I just … needed to be with my family for a time. But they are all well. You needn’t have worried.”

Dan frowned. “But of course I worried! You left without a word, and all I knew was that you had returned to the north to be with your family. You’ve never done such a thing before, so I assumed something serious must have happened.”

“As I said, I apologize for worrying you. They are all well, and … send you greetings.”

Dan felt terribly confused. “Are you quite well, Phil? You seem … different.”

But Drury called the rehearsal to order, and Dan never got a real answer to his question.

When rehearsal had finished, Phil left abruptly without bidding Dan farewell.

Dan spent another evening on his sofa, wearing the oatmeal-colored jumper for comfort, trying to remember the happiness he had felt with Phil and his family at Christmastime, only a few weeks ago. He heated a tin of soup for dinner and went to bed quite early, though he lay awake, unable to fall asleep, for a very long while.

He did not understand what had gone wrong.

******

14 January 1939

When Phil arrived at rehearsal the following day, his smile seemed a bit more natural, less forced, and he chatted with Dan both before and afterward as was their usual habit, though he did still seem slightly subdued. He did not suggest that they go to the pub or otherwise spend time together that evening and simply took his leave after some polite chat.

Dan stared after him, feeling lost.

******

18 January 1939

Drury decided that Phil had been gone for enough of the rehearsal time that it would be best to have Joseph Walker play the role of Jack. Phil graciously acquiesced, but Dan himself felt quite put out. Phil had been so excited to perform this particular play, and he himself had so looked forward to their characters’ lively banter … playing opposite Joseph Walker was a tremendous disappointment.

When he heard Joseph Walker’s aristocratic voice speak the line, “Then a passionate celibacy is all that any of us can look forward to,” he wanted to weep. At least previously he’d had a beautiful friendship with Phil, even though he knew it could never be anything more than that.

Now it seemed he had lost even the friendship. Had he done something to offend Phil? And, if so, why did Phil not simply tell him what he had done, so that they might clear it up? Surely they were good enough friends to weather a storm or two?

At least, Dan had thought they were.

******

24 January 1939

“Would you like to stop by the pub for a drink before heading home?” Phil asked after the repertory company’s business meeting to discuss upcoming productions and potential casting.

Dan looked at his friend in surprise. This was the first time since the dinner at Phil’s house, more than two weeks ago, that Phil had initiated any social interaction beyond a polite chat at the BBC. Dan had tried to suggest that they spend time together once or twice, but Phil’s apparent lack of interest had discouraged him. Always a bit in awe of Phil, even after they had become more comfortable with each other, Dan had been hesitant to continue asking after being rebuffed.

So Phil’s invitation to the pub felt like rain in the desert. “Yes,” Dan agreed eagerly. “Yes, I would love to have a drink with you. I’ve missed our time together.” He bit his lip, worried that he had said too much, but Phil smiled faintly.

Phil’s cheeks looked a bit pink when he admitted, “I have missed you, as well.”

They went to the pub across the road, as they had done on previous occasions, and Phil ordered his usual sweet cocktail. Dan ordered an old fashioned.

“Old fashioned again,” Phil commented for no apparent reason.

“Yes,” Dan replied. “I rather like them.” He took a sip.

“I’ve never been much of an old fashioned man,” Phil said, and then took a sip of his sweet concoction. His face looked surprisingly melancholy for such a banal conversation.

“How are your family doing?” Dan asked, still puzzled about what had happened with all that.

Phil smiled. “They’re fine. You can stop worrying, Dan. I’ve already apologized for alarming you. I just … I needed to be with them for a while. But I’m back now.” His eyes still looked troubled. “I would not want anything to adversely affect our friendship,” he said seriously. “Your regard means a great deal to me, and I’ve come to enjoy our time together very much.”

“Of course nothing would affect our friendship,” Dan replied, concerned. “Why should it? Is something the matter? Did I … was it me? Did I do something?” This was the question he’d most feared to ask, afraid of what Phil might say, but Phil only shook his head, looking down into his drink and stirring it absently.

“No.” He glanced at Dan and then away. “No, of course not. You’ve done nothing wrong.” He met Dan’s eyes, and Dan could not read his expression, but it certainly was not a happy one. “You’re a good man.”

Dan raised his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t go that far!” he joked.

Phil smiled at him and reached out to rest a hand on Dan’s shoulder for the first time in weeks. “I would.”

******

27 January 1939

They were doing Shakespeare again: Hamlet, this time. Phil, as one of the BBC’s most enduring stars, had the title role. Dan had been assigned the role of Horatio. Drury seemed to like Dan and Phil’s easy camaraderie and so had taken to quite often giving them roles as characters who were friends. Horatio was a plum role for Dan, probably more prestigious than any other role he had played in the repertory company thus far, so he was quite excited. His character appeared in almost every scene, as did Phil’s, so they would be spending a great deal of time together in rehearsal, and Phil would be able to indulge his love of puns again. Despite being a tragedy, Hamlet was chock full of wordplay.

The role assignment meeting drew to a close, and everyone stood up from the table. Dan walked to Phil’s side and asked casually, “Care for a drink at the pub?”

“Er … I’m going to a film this evening, actually.” Phil flushed and looked away in apparent embarrassment. “Nothing that would interest you, but I’ve been looking forward to it.”

“Oh,” Dan tried not to let his disappointment show. “Going with some friends?”

Phil’s flush deepened a bit. “Despite what you may think, I don’t have a large number of friends. And I’m not acquainted with anyone who shares my interest in horror films, so I’m attending the film showing alone.” He tilted his chin up a bit, as if feeling defensive. “There is nothing wrong with a man going to the cinema on his own.”

Dan raised his hands in surrender. “No, of course not! There’s nothing wrong with attending a film showing alone. Unless, perhaps, a friend might like to join you?” He smiled tentatively. It seemed a risk to invite himself along so brazenly, but he and Phil had been carefully finding their footing again, returning slowly to the easy comfort of their friendship, and so he was willing to take the chance.

“You wouldn’t like it,” Phil protested immediately. “It’s nothing intellectual or philosophical. Nothing intellectually challenging at all. Just a frivolous bit of something frightening, for you know I love a good horror story.”

“I do know that,” Dan replied. “And while my reading tastes may differ from yours, I must admit to enjoying a good horror film. Not all my tastes are so fussily pretentious, you know.” He grinned at Phil.

“I didn’t mean to imply that you were pretentious!” Phil gasped in denial.

“Of course not,” Dan’s grin grew wider. “That’s why you were going to invite me to come with you to see … what is the film you’re seeing this evening?”

“It’s called The Face at the Window,” Phil replied, sounding very unsure of himself. “Are you certain you would want to go to a horror film?”

“It will not be the first, nor that last, that I watch with pleasure. I love a good scare! Having your company will only make it all the better.”

After a long hesitation, Phil eventually suggested, “Well, if you are certain, let us get a taxi. We may get dinner near the cinema, if you like.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Dan replied honestly, and he felt as if everything in his world had fallen back into place.

******

10 February 1939

Despite Phil’s extensive social connections, it had taken him some time to find a new club that suited him. “You must come,” he insisted to Dan. They’d gotten over their mysterious awkwardness entirely now and were as close as ever. “They have an actual gaming room which allows non-members! They’re much less snobbish than my previous club. I don’t know why I ever tolerated that place—it must have been the popcorn.” Phil tapped a finger against his chin. “Perhaps I shall be able to persuade the new club to forgo the cucumber sandwiches.” Dan laughed.

Phil’s new club had two rooms in which non-members were permitted: a quiet lounge similar to the one at Phil’s previous club, and a gaming room complete with a billiards table. The gaming room was noisier than the lounge, since men played games in pairs or small groups, but everyone still kept their voices low.

Dan and Phil played a game of billiards—primarily for the novelty, as they’d never played the game together before—but then returned to their favorites: chess and goofspiel. They played a round of each, chatting quietly over their games, until Phil made some remark that made Dan laugh inappropriately loudly. He clapped a hand over his mouth, then made a silent grimace of apology, but Phil told him, “I love how you throw your head back when you laugh with your entire being. Few people appreciate life enough to show that kind of joy. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. Let them look.”

“I don’t really think of myself as a joyous person,” Dan objected.

Phil shook his head. “But when you laugh like that, the truth shows through. There’s joy in your heart. There may be sadness there, too—and you may not see it yourself—but the joy is there.” Phil’s blue eyes shone with intensity.

The heart Phil spoke of beat faster. As he had told Phil upon their first meeting, Dan did not think of himself as a particularly cheerful or happy person, but he had experienced more happiness since meeting Phil than he had any other time in his life.

“It’s because of you,” he told Phil honestly. “I’ve never had a friend like you, never known anyone who made me laugh the way you do. So thank you. Thank you for bringing more joy to my life.”

Phil looked down and blushed. Dan became aware of the intimacy and sentimentality of their conversation and glanced around self-consciously at the men scattered around the room playing chess, billiards, bridge, and other card games.

“Have you discovered yet whether they serve popcorn at this club?” he asked to dispel the seriousness of their interaction.

“Alas, they do not,” Phil replied, looking up again, having regained his composure. “But I simply cannot tolerate an establishment that excludes my most valued acquaintances, regardless of how fine the snacks they offer.” They both chuckled. “I shall simply have to ask my own cook to learn how to make it.”

At that precise moment, a servant appeared at Phil’s elbow and spoke quietly into his ear. Phil’s eyebrows rose, and he nodded with a smile. After the servant had left, Dan asked, “What did he ask you?”

“You shall see,” Phil responded mysteriously. But only a moment later, the servant returned with tea service and a bowl of popcorn, all of which he placed to the side of their table so it would not interfere with their games. Phil explained, “Apparently, when I inquired about it at my first visit, the club considered my request and decided to add popcorn to their menu. I like this club better and better!”

“And no cucumber sandwiches,” Dan pointed out with a chuckle.

“No cucumber sandwiches!” Phil exclaimed, making other men turn their heads to look at them.

Dan smirked and said, “This time it was you who were too loud.”

“Somehow,” Phil replied, “I get the feeling that this club will not be so quick to evict us. I think less and less of that previous club. What a bunch of stiff-necked prigs! I’m so glad you exposed their true nature. Why, I might have continued quietly among their company indefinitely if you had not discomposed them with your utterly inappropriate, raucous behavior.” He giggled, his tongue showing at the corner of his mouth.

Dan looked at his friend, at the beauty and elegance of his features even as he delighted in life like a child, and thought, Oh no. No. I cannot feel this way. Not for him. I must not lose his friendship, but I know such would surely happen if he were ever to know. I cannot feel this way. I must not feel this way. He shuffled the cards so that he had a reason to look away from Phil’s face. He watched his hands for a long moment as they manipulated the deck of cards.

“Are you quite all right?” Phil asked, sounding concerned.

Dan looked up, forcing himself to look at his good friend’s face with a bland expression, and replied, “Of course.” He forced a smile. “I’m fine.” He looked down to shuffle the cards a few more times, though they were no doubt thoroughly mixed by now. He hoped Phil did not notice how his hands shook. He looked for something to say, anything except what he was thinking. Something proper. Something appropriate. Something a man in his position was expected to say. And then he remembered. “Dora will be arriving in London in two weeks to visit her aunt. She’ll be in town for a month, so we should be able to arrange that dinner soon. I know she looks forward to meeting you.”

With his eyes so determinedly focused on his hands and the cards, Dan missed the shadow that passed across Phil’s face as he cleared his throat and replied stiffly, “Of course. Of course. I’m sure it will be lovely to meet her.”

******

28 February 1939

Even with Dora in town, Dan did not see her often, and still spent much of his free time with Phil. He called on her at her aunt’s home three times during the first week, however, to make sure that he did not seem inattentive or unappreciative of her presence, even if their engagement was primarily just a convenience for both of them. They just did not have a great deal in common and spent much of their time together discussing old school friends in Wokingham. Dora still saw them all often, as few of them had moved away as Dan had done, and so she told him all the news about their lives.

Dan had never been close friends with any of them, and many of the men she spoke of so happily were those who had bullied him when they were boys, but he pretended interest.

Dan had never been close friends with anyone before Phil.

Eventually the scheduled evening came when Dora prepared dinner for them and Phil came to visit. Dora was all aflutter as they waited for Phil to arrive, smoothing her carefully waved blonde hair and applying fresh lipstick. She kept repeating how excited she was to meet a true radio celebrity, which Dan found hurt his feelings a bit. He now appeared on the radio as often as Phil, often as his co-star in their dramatic productions on the BBC, but Dora did not consider him as worthy of regard?

No one in Wokingham ever had considered him worthy of much regard. That was why he had left. One of the reasons.

Phil arrived at the door looking handsome and elegant in his well-fitting but not-quite-fashionable suit and hat. Dan took his hat and overcoat, hung them up, and then turned to introduce him to Dora, who hovered nervously in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Dora, allow me to introduce you to my friend, Philip Lester. Phil, allow me to introduce my fiancée, Dora Williams.” Phil bowed to Dora and smiled.

“I am delighted to meet you, Miss Williams,” Phil said with a friendly smile. Not the smile Dan usually saw, not the smile reserved for him, but the smile Phil showed to strangers and work acquaintances. Dan felt surprise that he could so easily differentiate between Phil’s different smiles. Then he tried to focus on the social situation rather than aspects of Phil’s face.

Dora nervously plucked at the skirt of her flowered dress and smiled at Phil so that her dimples showed. Many in Wokingham had called Dora and him a matched pair because of their dimples. Did Phil find dimples attractive? Would he find Dora pretty, with her pale hair and bright blue eyes? Dan’s stomach turned at the thought.

Dora seemed uncharacteristically quiet, probably too anxious to speak, so Dan guided them into the lounge. “I’m afraid my flat compares very poorly to your lovely home,” Dan told Phil. He explained to Dora, “Phil’s house includes, among other things, a solarium full of beautiful plants.”

She turned to look at Phil with wide eyes. “I do love flowers,” she remarked brightly.

Dan hoped that Phil would not take this as an implied request for an invitation to Phil’s home, because that would seem quite rude, so he hurried to interject, “I would give you a tour of the flat, but I’m afraid there isn’t much to see.”

Phil walked to the piano in the corner of the lounge and ran a hand along its lid. “This was what I was most interested in seeing, in any case. I do hope you’ll play for us after dinner?”

Dan felt his face grow hot, but nodded. “Of course. I know we have spoken of it often, so I perhaps owe it to you after all this time.”

Dora exclaimed, “Have you never heard him play? Oh, he plays so wonderfully!”

“No!” Dan replied quickly. “I do not play very well at all. Dora is too kind. Please do not develop unrealistic expectations.”

“I’m sure Miss Williams is quite honest in her admiration for your playing,” Phil replied with a kind smile to the young woman. “But please do not feel anxious that you must impress us. I have looked forward to hearing you play for so long that you might simply smash your head into the keyboard a few times, and I would no doubt be pleased to listen.”

Dan laughed, but Dora looked confused. Not everyone appreciated Phil’s sense of humor. When she heard Dan laugh, though, and saw the good humor on Phil’s face, she gave a small, self-conscious giggle.

Dora had made a roast for them, and Phil complimented her cooking in glowing terms, though Dan knew Phil flattered her more than she perhaps deserved, as the Yorkshire pudding was rather soggy and the vegetables undercooked. Dora cooked tolerably well, but even her own family teased her about her lack of prowess. They often joked that it was the reason Dan had not yet married her.

And at that moment, Dan found the topic suddenly brought up in conversation as if conjured by his thoughts. “How long have you and Dan been engaged?” Phil asked Dora politely.

“Oh,” Dora blushed under Phil’s attention. “We’ve been betrothed since we were 18.”

Phil’s eyebrows flew up, and he glanced at Dan questioningly.

“Yes,” Dan verified with some embarrassment. “It has just … never seemed like … quite the right time.”

“My friends tease me,” Dora admitted with an amused smile, “because we have been engaged so many years, when so many of them have long since married and have children, but I know that it will happen when we are ready.”

Dan felt a twinge of guilt at Dora’s words. He knew that they should marry, that he should have a family and live the life his parents had planned for him, but he just had not felt able to do so. Not yet. And Dora had never seemed overeager, either, so it just … never happened.

After dinner had been cleared away, Dan played piano for them in the lounge. Though Dora had seated herself on the sofa, Phil chose an armchair some distance from her. Dan hoped nothing was wrong there.

He first played for them Beethoven’s "Für Elise,” explaining that he had heard the piece as a child, and that it had been the originating source of his lifelong interest in the piano.

“You never told me that,” marveled Dora, and Dan realized that he had not discussed the piano very much with her. Despite the enthusiasm she had shown in her conversation with Phil, he had not played often for her, either, because she had shown little interest.

When he finished the piece, he told Phil, “I always longed for piano lessons, but never had them. I cannot read music, and I’m afraid I learn only by ear.” He supposed he spoke to both of them, really, but he only saw Phil.

“But that is a great talent!” Phil insisted. “Playing a piece of music after only having heard it is impressive indeed!”

Dan blushed and looked down at his fingers still resting on the piano keyboard. “Shall I play you some Rachmaninoff next?”

Phil and Dora both nodded eagerly, and so he began playing the composer’s “Piano Concerto No. 2.” He realized quickly his mistake, however, for it was an intensely romantic piece, and he thought only of Phil as his fingers moved across the keys. He was a cad. To play this piece, thinking of Phil, when the woman he had sworn to marry sat in the same room, was unforgivable.

Of course, it was wrong to play this piece while thinking of Phil at all.

When he had finished, he sat with his head downcast, his hands resting in his lap, while Phil and Dora both exclaimed about how beautifully he had played. “I made a great many mistakes,” Dan said quietly, but they persisted in their praise. Phil’s pleasure seemed genuine, but Dan guessed that Dora merely followed his example. She had no great love or understanding of music.

Without another word, without any warning, Dan began playing a ragtime piece. He could not remember the name or the composer, but the lively rhythm served well to break his melancholy mood. When he had finished the song, he looked up to see Dora looking quite shocked and Phil delighted. “I’m unfamiliar with that tune, and even that style of music, but it was wonderfully cheerful and lively,” Phil declared with a smile that lit a fire in Dan’s heart.

“Er … yes,” Dora said hesitantly. “It was very … different. I’ve never heard you play anything like that before.”

“I like a great many different kinds of music,” Dan explained. “I thought perhaps we could use something a bit more upbeat.”

Phil walked to the piano and stood beside it, gazing at Dan. “I enjoyed it very much. Thank you for playing for us.” He clapped a hand to Dan’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I do believe this was the highlight of my week!” Then he released Dan’s shoulder and turned to look at Dora. “Please do excuse my familiarity,” he apologized with some apparent embarrassment. “Dan and I have become quite close friends these past few months, but I did not intend…”

“No, of course, it’s fine,” Dora said. She glanced between Phil and Dan as if wondering why Phil had apologized. Dan found himself wondering, as well, for Phil hadn’t done anything untoward.

Dan played the piano for them a bit more, and they all engaged in idle conversation, until eventually the evening naturally wound down.

Dora left before Phil, as her aunt would certainly not consider it appropriate for her to be alone at Dan’s flat without any others present. “It was really so wonderful to meet you!” she gushed to Phil.

Phil took her hand and pressed it gently between both of his, saying, “It was lovely to meet you, as well, Miss Williams. I hope we shall meet again often.” For a moment Dan actually felt jealous, though he was confused about his reasons. Was he jealous that Dora seemed attracted to Phil? Or that Phil seemed attracted to Dora? The twisting in his belly told him the answer, but he tried to keep a friendly expression on his face as they all said their farewells.

At the door, Dora held her face up for Dan to kiss her cheek, which he dutifully did, and she gave Phil a last beatific smile before running outside to get into her taxi.

“Why did you say all that to her?” Dan asked abruptly as soon as he and Phil were alone.

Phil looked confused. “What do you mean? What did I say wrong?”

“All that stuff about how you hope you’ll see her again often. Are you … were you flirting with my own fiancée right in front of me? In my own flat?” Dan demanded.

Phil just stared at him in obvious incomprehension for a long moment. Then he let out a small laugh, but it didn’t sound amused at all. He lifted a hand to rub pale fingers against his forehead as if trying to smooth the furrows that had appeared there.

“Dan, you are my closest and dearest friend, and I hope to have a long friendship with you for many years to come.” He spoke slowly and patiently, sounding somehow sad. Dan’s emotions still roiled within him, though, and he waited for Phil to say something that actually addressed the issue at hand: to wit, Phil flirting with Dora right in front of him.

Phil looked into Dan’s eyes, and his emotions showed openly on his face. Dan had hurt him with the accusation, and he suddenly felt a rush of shame. “Dan, this woman will be your wife—she will be by your side for as long as you live—so it is important to me that she approve of me as your companion. I hope I impressed her favorably this evening, for her good opinion matters to me a great deal. I would hate for her to develop a dislike of me that might someday lead you to end our friendship.”

“That could never happen,” Dan insisted immediately. He would never abandon his friendship with Phil, no matter what anyone else said or thought about him. Dora could harangue him for the rest of his life without convincing him to set Phil aside.

“Dan,” Phil said gently, waiting until Dan met his eyes. “She’s going to be your wife. She’ll come before everyone else in your heart, and so even if she were not a perfectly sweet girl, I must yet court her good opinion out of fear. I hope she liked me this evening.”

“How could anyone not like you?” Dan asked, though despair swamped him for no good reason he could name.

Phil sighed. “I hope you will allow me to meet her again before she leaves town so that I can… Dan, surely you must see the situation I’m in. I am at her mercy. If she chooses to dislike me, then I may lose your friendship forever. I cannot let that happen.” He took off his spectacles and rubbed his eyes in apparent weariness or some other emotion Dan could not identify, then put them back on. “Please, allow me to make a friend of her, so that I may keep a friend in you.”

******

3 March 1939

Though Dan vigorously denied the necessity of it, Phil insisted that he would very much like to take Dan and Dora to the cinema before she left town. At length, Dan reluctantly arranged it, and the three met to attend a showing of Errol Flynn’s The Adventures of Robin Hood. It was not quite the sort of film that Dan or Phil would have chosen on their own, but neither did they find it objectionable … and Dora was quite excited to see the film.

Dan enjoyed the film more than he had expected, as he found the action sequences engaging and the humor occasionally clever. Phil, too, seemed quite cheerful as they left the theatre, though Phil tended toward cheerful in the general case. Dora was bubbling over with delight.

Phil suggested, “Shall we have a brief drink before we part, so that we might discuss the film a bit? It may be that I shan’t see Miss Williams again before her departure. I know of a quaint pub nearby that would suit admirably.”

Dora giggled girlishly and said, “Yes, that would be lovely!” before Dan even had a chance to say anything. He felt excluded by their interaction and his mood began to darken.

They walked the short distance to the pub and found seats at a table together. Phil asked Dan, “What did you think of the film?” But Dan merely shrugged sullenly. Phil gave him a concerned look, but Dan pretended great interest in their surroundings. The pub was well-lit and attractive—the sort of place a gentleman might entertain a lady after a date at the cinema. Dan looked back at Phil and Dora and scowled.

“You know, Phil, I think you quite resemble Errol Flynn in his role as Robin Hood!” Dora gushed.

When had Phil invited Dora to call him by his first name? Dan could not remember, but it seemed overly familiar and inappropriate behavior between a single man and another fellow’s betrothed.

“I’m sure you are wrong, Miss Williams,” Phil replied. He put a slight stress on her name, which led Dan to conclude that perhaps Phil had not invited Dora’s familiarity. If that were true … Dan wondered if he should be embarrassed by Dora’s behavior. “If anything, Dan himself looks more like the hero of the film, with his wavy brown hair and pronounced dimples.” Phil smiled at him, and Dan felt his sulk recede a bit. Phil had noticed his dimples? And found his hair attractive?

“Oh, no!” Dora insisted, sipping daintily at her bright pink beverage. She’d been relatively quiet the first time she’d met Phil. What had caused this difference? Dan thought back to how he had told her that Phil wished to spend time with her again before she left town and wondered if perhaps she had misunderstood. Had Dan given her the wrong impression? “You look much more the romantic hero,” she told Phil. “The aquiline nose, the high cheekbones, the engaging smile!”

Phil blanched, looking to Dan in a helpless plea for assistance. He clearly had no idea what to say in response to Dora’s indecorous flirting. Dan gazed back at him and smirked, shrugging a shoulder as if to say, “What can I do?”

Interesting that he had been so upset when he believed Phil to be flirting with Dora, when he found the opposite only amusing. It was rather fun to watch Phil squirm.

“I assure you, Miss Williams, I am no hero. If faced with danger, I would no doubt run away as fast as my clumsy feet could take me! And I would most likely trip during my flight!” He grinned, obviously hoping that Dora would go along with his self-mockery. “Not to mention the fact that Robin Hood rode horses throughout the film, and I am deathly afraid of the beasts. I’m sure Dan is much braver than I. Do you enjoy riding horses, Dan?”

Dan saw how Phil had tried to shift the conversation, and he felt much less cross now. He felt as if he were watching a game, observing Phil’s desperate attempts to extricate himself from a socially awkward situation.

Before Dan could even answer the question about horses—which he did not, in fact, know how to ride, though he had no particular fear of them—Dora reached hesitantly toward Phil’s face and asked, “May I remove your spectacles? I believe your eyes are much more beautiful than Errol Flynn’s, but I can’t see them properly behind the glass.”

Phil jerked his head back, looking extremely uncomfortable, and shot Dan another look pleading for help. Dan realized that Dora was making a fool of herself, and that he had been allowing his friend to suffer simply to assuage his own jealousy. He felt quite a cad for abandoning Phil to such an awkward situation when he knew such social niceties could make his friend anxious. Phil had often told him that it was why he preferred the quiet at the club, and why he valued his friendship with Dan. Though he felt confident in professional situations such as at the BBC, he often felt quite nervous in less formal social situations. He’d told Dan he’d never felt so comfortable with someone else socially, so at ease, with so little anxiety.

And here Dan had been enjoying watching his friend struggle with those very problems, because of his own petty jealousy.

“Dora!” Dan chided. “You barely know Mr. Lester.” Though Dan himself always called Phil by his first name, he chose to be more formal in this case to point out to Dora her own inappropriate behavior. “I know you mean no harm, but manners are somewhat different in town than in the country.”

Dora lowered her hands away from their reach toward Phil’s face, and her lower lip protruded in an unattractive pout. “I do apologize, Mr. Lester, if I overstepped.” She sounded like a sulking child.

Dan felt ashamed on various levels. He felt embarrassed by Dora’s inappropriate behavior, but more importantly he felt tremendous guilt at subjecting Phil to her advances without offering any rescue.

Phil’s shoulders relaxed, though Dan had not even noticed them growing tense, and he smiled hesitantly at Dora. “No harm done, Miss Williams. I hope we can still be good friends?”

Dora smiled, but looked unhappily chastened. “I do believe I’m ready to return to my aunt’s home. Could you fetch me a taxi, love?” she asked Dan. She rarely called him such pet names, and he wondered if she was just trying to pretend that she hadn’t been nearly throwing herself at someone else in his presence. But he simply nodded and stood. He glanced at Phil, uncertain about leaving him alone with Dora at this point, but Phil smiled and gave just the slightest inclination of his head to let Dan know that everything was all right. Dan returned the smile and went to the bar to request that a taxi be called.

Once Dora had left with barely a glance at either of them, Dan and Phil sat quietly at their table for a long moment before they both began to speak at the same time.

“I’m so sorry…” Dan began.

“I’m so sorry…” Phil also said.

They looked at each other and couldn’t help but laugh. “You have nothing to apologize for,” Dan assured Phil firmly. “Dora behaved abominably, and I should not have let it go on so long. I’m sorry for allowing her to make you so uncomfortable.”

Phil shrugged awkwardly. “I hope I did not offend her. I do still wish for her to have a good opinion of me.”

“Oh, I think she has a very good opinion of you,” Dan joked.

Phil frowned. “Dan, this is no laughing matter. If I’ve given offense…”

Dan rested a hand on Phil’s arm and insisted, “You have done nothing wrong. And nothing Dora could ever say to me will ever change my mind about my regard for you and for our friendship. I promise you that.”

Phil still seemed to fret, but he did so silently. Dan tried to distract him with discussion of the film, including mockery of some of the more ridiculous stunts, and soon Phil was laughing with him, quite relaxed and apparently happy. They spent another hour together in the pub, and Dan found that it was by far the most enjoyable portion of the evening.

When they parted, Phil reached out to embrace him briefly with a grateful smile. They hadn’t touched each other thus very often, but they had done so a few times before, such as at Christmastime and when they had not seen each other for several days.

Dan allowed himself to soak in the warmth of Phil’s arms around him, however brief the embrace. And then they broke apart, and went into their separate taxis with the understanding that they would see each other again at the BBC on the morrow.

And so Dan went home to his silent flat where he lay alone in bed that night, trying very hard not to let his thoughts linger on the scent of Phil’s skin, the texture of Phil’s wool overcoat, and every other detail of their affectionate farewell.

******

[ Continue to Chapter 7 ]