#it started pouring at the last song (throne) and we went back to the hotel soaking wet 😗✌️ i have to blow dry my favorite shoes

[latenightjjk]

SAW BMTH AGAIN🥳🎉🎉🎉

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding On Ch9: A Labour of Love

Summary: Fliss and Frank receive some news from Boston and Bean’s due date, arrives…and passes, with no sign of him making his bid for freedom just yet. Fliss is frustrated and poor Frank doesn’t know what to do for the best. 

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, NO UNDER 18s!).

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N:  Bean is just not playing ball, is he? As always, I hope you enjoy and I love reading all your thoughts. Chapter Song: Beautiful Day by U2 

Series Masterlist //  WIYPT Masterlist

Touch me, take me to that other place. Teach me, I know I’m not a hopeless case.

 August 2019  

The alarm had become a bit of a pointless feature in the Gallagher-Adler household, certainly over the last 2 weeks or so. As Fliss headed into the final throes of her pregnancy, her sleep patterns were all over the place. So it was no surprise to Frank that he felt her climbing out of bed at little past 5 am. Blinking sleepily he made a noise of protest because, after all, it was a Saturday, and she chuckled and leaned over to gently kiss his head.

“Stay here.” she instructed, “I’ll be fine.” He wasn’t going to listen, he really wasn’t but his eyes dropped shut of their own accord. When they opened again it was almost 10 and he gave a start, because Fliss was due to leave in little over an hour. She was off for a Pre-Baby pamper session with Verity, Roberta and Sian, which included a manicure, pedicure, haircut, facial and fuck knows what else. To be honest, Frank had zoned out when she'd reeled off the list of treatments last night over dinner and just nodded in all the right places because he wasn't interested if all truth be told. As long as she enjoyed herself. With that in mind, he jumped up and after a quick shower he headed downstairs.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked as he wandered into the back of the house. Fliss, who was stood by the bay window seat, her eyes roving over the garden, didn’t answer.

“Lissy?” He spoke again and she jumped slightly and turned to face him as he chuckled and crossed the room to give her a kiss. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Where’s Mary?”

“She went up to the stables for a lesson with Joanne before it gets too hot.” She replied, taking the peck he offered with a tight smile. Her voice was flat, emotionless and her entire demeanour unnerved him a little as he prided himself on normally being able to read her very well but at that moment he really couldn’t get a lock on her at all.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

 “I had a message from Boston Police…about John.”

Frank made an angry noise in his throat “What about him?”

She looked at him and Frank felt his mind whirring about what there was left that the ass hole could possibly put her through. He was inside, for a long time and he wouldn’t be getting parole this time round either but when she answered, he hadn’t been expecting her to drop the news she did.

“He’s dead.” Fliss said flatly as she looked at Frank. His face contorted into a frown as he looked at her.

“Dead?”

She nodded “Apparently got in a fight with another prisoner and it got a bit nasty. He was stabbed and…” she swallowed “Bled out. Nothing they could do.” Frank watched her carefully as she was clearly pondering something. He wasn’t sure how she was going to be feeling here. She had been married to him after all but, well, Frank was struggling to feel anything other than a sickening sense of satisfaction. If anyone deserved to die it was that fucker.

“You ok?” he asked her as he stepped towards her and pulled her into a hug.

“Yeah. I feel nothing.” she said simply, pulling back to look at him. “Absolutely nothing. I’m not happy he’s dead but I don’t care he is, either, and I’m certainly not upset about it.” She paused, biting her lip “Does that make me a bad person?”

“Bad?” Frank spluttered “Fuck, no honey, of course not” She let out a sigh as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head as she snuggled her face into his chest.  “If you think feeling nothing makes you bad then me feeling what I do means I’m going straight to hell.” Frank moved and tilted her face to look at him with his finger a thumb gently holding her chin “He was a nasty, vile bastard Lissy, and he put you through so much, not to mention nearly fucking killing you less than a year ago. If anything you have a right to be throwing a damned party now.”

“Not sure you’d find many places with Congratulations Your Piece Of Shit, Wife-Beating Ex-Husband Is Dead banners or balloons.” she quipped.

“The internet is dark and full of terrors.” Frank smiled back and Fliss snorted at the Game of Thrones reference “Never underestimate it.”

She stayed silent for a moment before she pulled back and looked up at him. “You know what else I will never underestimate?” she asked, and Frank was pleased to note that familiar shine had returned to her face and eyes and he arched an eyebrow. “The power of a back massage.”

Frank smiled “Good job you’re heading off for one then isn’t it.”

“Hmmmm…” she teased, her hands tracing his chest through his t-shirt. “Thing is, unlike your back rubs this one won’t have a happy ending.” “It better fucking not do.” He shot back and she grinned.

“I should go get ready.”

“Ok, you want any breakfast before you go?” he asked and she smiled

“We ate, but there’s some pancakes in the oven for you, you just need to warm them up.”

He smiled “You’re too good to me.” “I know” she shrugged, standing on her toes to give him a kiss. With a chuckle he watched her leave, Thor trotting behind her before he let out a deep breath.

“Does that make me bad?”

The fact that she was even asking that, after everything, was enough of an answer in itself. Bad? There was nothing further from the truth and he hated that she had even entertained the idea. But, as Frank realised when he poured himself a coffee, now the bastard was dead, there was nothing else he could do to her. That particular shadow was now well gone.

And Frank didn’t give a shit whether being happy or, dare he say it, amused at the fact the fucker had died in prison, made him a bad person or not.

*****

An hour later Fliss was collected by Bill, the poor bloke was on drop off and pick up duty and Frank didn’t envy him dealing with all 4 of women. Out of courtesy, Frank had offered to run one way but Bill had waved his offer off, pointing out that he had to collect his mother later that afternoon from the aiport.

He walked out to the car with them, taking a side glance at his girl who was dressed in a pale pink and blue maxi dress, which was quite low cut and made her pregnancy boobs look fucking amazing. He smiled as he opened the door for her, Fliss sinking into the front seat- being basically 40 weeks pregnant and ready to pop awarded her certain perks such as her mother surrendering her usual position in the passenger side.

“Have a nice time.” He said, leaning over to give her a peck.

“We will.” She smiled “I left Mary some Mac and Cheese for lunch, she was asking before so I pulled it out of the freezer.”

Frank smiled “I’ll fight her for it.” “No need.” She grinned “I got you some out too.” “You spoil me”

Smiling, she reached up and cupped his cheek before he straightened up and shut the door. Once he was sure it was closed he jerked his head to Bill who was bent giving Thor a pat and signalled for the man to walk with him a little, taking a few steps away.

“Everything ok?” Bill asked.

“Yeah, well, sort of. She’s probably gonna tell you herself but just in case she doesn’t, she had a call this morning. John’s dead.” Bill blinked, before he gave a snort “Good.” “Yeah, that was kind of my reaction too.” Frank scratched at his neck. “Fliss, however, well she says she didn’t feel anything. Not happy, not sad, just complete indifference. Which, to be fair, is probably a good thing for her. I’m just a little worried she’s numb because it hasn’t sunk in yet.” Bill nodded “If she doesn’t mention it herself on the way I’ll tell V on the quiet when we get there.” “Thanks.”  Frank smiled as the two of them headed back to the car. Frank grinned at Bill, as he could hear the chatter from the 4 women even through the closed doors and windows of the car.

“Good luck!” he said, nodding towards the vehicle.

Bill snorted before he frowned a little “How come you haven’t gone with Steve and the boys up to the Water Sports centre?” “Mary didn’t want to.” Frank said “I think she’s still a little, self-conscious, I suppose is the term, around the twins but she’ll come round. You know what she’s like” “Well, when they move over in January she’ll have plenty of time to get to know them properly” Bill shrugged “Right, best get this rabble to the hotel. See you later son.” Frank smiled, nodding at him. As the Range Rover pulled off up the drive he tossed a hand at the tailgate before he looked down at Thor.

“Come on boy, let’s go find Mary.” It didn’t take them long to locate her. Having finished her lesson she’d been busy grooming Monty and then helping Joanne with a few chores, or bugging the shit out of her Frank suspected but Joanne was always so patient with her. The young woman was god-send, having really stepped up over the last 2 months especially. Frank knew why Fliss liked her so much.

He practically dragged Mary home, but it really was getting ridiculously warm and he wanted her to have a few hours inside to keep cool a little. In the end, as always, they haggled reaching a compromise that she could have a little while in the pool provided she sat in the shade quietly to eat lunch. As always he was roped into the pool with her, such a hard life he led, and after 30 minutes of teaching her how to dive they both climbed out and ate before changing and heading to the airport to collect Evelyn who was coming to stay for a while.

He greeted her with the usual nod and smile as Mary gave her a hug, before he took her bag from her and they headed back to his truck, Mary gibbering on about anything and everything, his mother listening and replying when needed. The last time Mary had seen Evelyn she had gone to Boston for the weekend the previous month, something that had set Frank on edge after the last time, but as Fliss had reasoned with him, he knew that he couldn’t allow that to stop him from letting her go. This meant that Evelyn hadn’t seen their house since they had moved in back in June. Mary showed her round, Frank following, and when they got to Bean’s room he saw her stop and look round, smiling softly.

“You’ve done a good job, Frank.” She turned to look at him and he smiled back.

“You sound surprised, mother.” “Not at all.” She shook her head. “I expected nothing less.” “Makes a change.” He couldn’t help the sarcastic shot back and she narrowed her eyes.

“Are we not passed the sniping yet?” she said, tiredly.

Frank held his hands up, “Sorry.” After she’d seen the attic and Mary’s room, they headed back downstairs, Frank showing Evelyn to the Guest Apartment over the Garage which he had put the finishing touches to the week before. Fliss had stocked the fridge fully for her, meaning she had everything she could need for snacks and drinks, and whatever else she needed for a comfortable stay. He left her to unpack, telling her to come over to the main house when she was done, which she did a little over an hour later.

Frank poured her a glass of white wine, and they headed outside, taking a seat at the table as Mary was in and out of the pool freely as the sun wasn’t quite as high as it had been given that it was half four in the afternoon. Evelyn took the opportunity to ask Frank if they were ready for Bean to arrive and he smiled, shrugging.

“As ready as we can be.” He said, “We’ve had all the hospital tours and found the place Fliss prefers so…” “Where have you chosen?” Evelyn asked.

“Bayfront in St Pete’s” Frank said, pulling out his phone “They have a suite called the Baby Place.”

He flicked through his phone’s internet browser to the bookmarked page and handed it to Evelyn who put on her glasses to scan the information.

"The separate family lounge offers some of the amenities of home, such as a game table, bla bla bla and room enough to host celebrations and enjoy time with loved ones." Evelyn read from the website. "It looks like a hotel not a hospital" she mused as she handed the phone back to Frank. "Well, that's kinda the idea mother." He said, tossing his phone onto the table. "It’s actually a state-approved level 3 Regional Perinatal Intensive Care Centre." Mary appeared at the side of them, picking up her towel. "The program is one of only 12 in the state of Florida" Evelyn looked at her, cooking her head to one side as Frank gave a chuckle. "There is that too." He said as Evelyn turned to him. Mary, wrapped herself in the towel and hopped up onto his knee. "We originally discussed a birthing centre with the midwife but Fliss was too worried about what could go wrong or if she decided half way through she wanted an epidural..." he rubbed at Mary’s shoulders slightly, drying her off with the towel. “So when the midwife suggested this it seemed like a perfect compromise. She gets a private recovery area and should make her feel more at ease. She doesn't have fond memories of hospitals." He shrugged "Who does?" Evelyn looked at him, taking a sip of her wine. "Well Fliss has some particularly bad ones what with her back injury and operation, not to mention all the times he put her in one." Frank said, pausing for a second. That reminded him.

“Hey Stack, can you go grab me a can of soda?”

“Only if I can have one.” She bargained.

“Fine, but grab the no sugar. You’re already hyper enough as it is.”

Mary jumped down and headed through the door into the kitchen. As soon as she was out of earshot Frank looked at his mother.

“John’s dead.” He said bluntly “Fliss had a call this morning. He was stabbed in prison.” Evelyn looked at him for a second, before she gave a snort “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.” She said sarcastically “How has Fliss taken it?”

“Well she wasn’t leaping for joy but she’s not upset, says she feels nothing.” He shrugged, looking up as Mary came back. She handed him a can as she hopped back on his knee and opened the other one herself.

Evelyn studied Frank for a second as if she was considering something before she smiled "I take it the fact she's due to drop tomorrow is the reason you're on soft drinks and not beer." Frank smiled "Just playing it safe. I mean so are you right? That's why you're here for the next 2 weeks." Evelyn shrugged "is it a problem?" "No." Frank shook his head before he grinned cheekily "Why do you think I finished the apartment above the Garage?" "Bill says in England they would call it a Granny Flat" Mary said as Frank gave a snort. Evelyn chuckled a little. "I’m aware of the terminology, thank you, on account of being from England myself." She looked at Mary "You know, people build them on their property when they want their elderly relatives to move in with them so they can look after them." she turned to Frank, smirking "So I'm honoured, Francis..." "I didn't build it just for you." He rolled his eyes "it was half done when we moved in so it made sense to finish it." He picked up his can "It’s a place for anyone to stay, although I'd be lying if I said you weren't at the forefront of my mind when we did it" Evelyn looked at him, shocked, "me?" "Yeah..." he shrugged, grinning "Fliss told me that I wasn't allowed to let you stay in a hotel or at Bill and V's now we have room so this was the best way of actually keeping you out of the house..." "Oh piss off!" Evelyn looked at him, slapping his arm as he laughed. She shook her head and before she could shoot a sarcastic response back, the sound of an engine coming up the drive hit Frank’s ears and a soft smile crept across his face. His girl was home. Thor gave a loud bark and stood up, running to the gate, Frank following him. He opened it, striding out onto the path through the lawn which led round the side of their house to the front. He smiled as Fliss pushed herself out of her dad's range rover and he instantly spotted that her hair was a lighter colour than it had been that morning and was flowing round her face and shoulders in perfectly styled waves. It was evident she had enjoyed herself, as she looked relaxed for the first time in weeks. "Well I would ask if you had a nice time." He smiled, dropping a kiss to her cheek "but I can tell from the way you're grinning that you did." "Oh it was amazing." She smiled as his hands fell to her hips. “Just what I needed. I feel relaxed and absolutely ready to push a baby out of my vagina.” Frank gave a loud laugh as he shook his head. “Well, your hair looks great." "Aww thanks Frank." Roberta slapped his shoulder as she walked past him into the yard. He rolled his eyes as Fliss laughed, tugging on Frank’s hand as she led him to the trunk of Bill's car. Bill was stood with it open as Verity and Sian were looking in each of the bags before Verity pointed at one and handed it to Fliss, Frank immediately taking it from her. He peered inside.

"Because you don't have enough toiletries" he deadpanned. Fliss shrugged. "The lavender stuff they said would help me sleep, which in case you haven't noticed I've been struggling to do over the last 2 weeks." "Hard not to notice when you wake me up at 3:30 am to tell me" "I did that once because I felt sick. And besides, you did this to me..." she pointed to her now really rather large bump "...you should also be feeling the consequences" Bill snorted as he shut the trunk of his car and looked at Frank as he glanced at the older man, almost pleading for help "Sorry lad." Bill chuckled "You got her pregnant and wanna marry her, she's your problem now." "She is here..." Fliss glared at her father. "Oh, trust me Titch, we are all well aware you are." "Rude" Fliss looked at her parents as they headed into the garden. "Steve and the boys will be here in about 5." Sian looked at Fliss having just got off the phone to him. "Said to tell you he is picking up some real meat on the way over...whatever that means Frank?" Frank laughed "he means fillet steak. I got Sirloin. A man's cut. He's being a pussy" Sian looked at Fliss who simply shook her head. "Meat is a big issue for Francis." She said sombrely, patting his chest.

“I just know what I like.” He shrugged. They made their way through to the back in time to see Verity giving Evelyn a warm hug in greeting. It made Fliss smile softly, noticing how different it all was to the stiff handshakes shared when they met for the first time little over a year ago.

Frank dropped a kiss to her cheek and headed inside to put her bag away before he came back down just as Steve and the boys turned up. Then the usual thing that happened at BBQs went ahead, the men crowding round the grill, the women bustling in and out of the kitchen setting out the sides and accompaniments, the 3 kids bombing in and out of the pool.

“You should have come with us today Mary.” Steve said to the girl as she sauntered past in her bathing suit. She paused to look at him.

“What did you do?”

“We did Kayaking, skiing, the boys went bodyboarding but I sat that one out.” Steve said.

“I didn’t know if I would like it.” She shrugged, dropping her eyes slightly. Frank watched carefully as Steve crouched down.

“Me neither, but you know what? It was fun, and the best thing is, if there’s something you don’t wanna do, you can sit it out and watch.” Frank could see from her face she was mulling this over. She looked at Steve “Are you going again Uncle Steeby?”

“Next Friday.” He nodded.

“Ok, I wanna go next time.” She announced. “Mind your manners.” Frank instructed, gently, pointing the tongues he was holding at her.

“Please.” She added. Charlie and Joel both erupted into noise, demanding that their father allow it and Steve gave a chuckle.

“You’re welcome any time Stack, as long as Frank and Fliss say its ok.” He said, standing up. “Fine by me. In fact you can keep her if you want.” Frank shrugged and Mary rolled her eyes.

“You always say stuff like that, pretend you don’t want me here but we all know the truth. You do, that’s why you’re adopting me.”

“Smart ass.” Frank narrowed his eyes at her as she stuck her tongue out and ran off. Bill and Steve chuckled as Frank shook his head, snorting.

“Thanks Steve.” He looked at the man who waved his thanks away.

“You know, she’s getting more like Fliss was every day.” Bill said “you want to watch that, Frank. She was a sassy little swine as a kid.” “Mary was already a sass bag before she met Fliss.” Frank shrugged, turning over the steaks on the grill. “Lissy just encourages it.” “Have you had any luck with her biological father?” Steve asked and Frank shook his head.

“We’re not expecting to yet. We’ve only given him notification of our intent. I suspect when Greg actually starts the process officially we’ll hear something.”

“But you don’t expect him to object?”

Frank hesitated before he shrugged “I can’t see why he would. He’s never been interested in her, at all. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a slight worry but like Fliss keeps telling me, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” “No point worrying about something you can’t control.” Bill said wisely, before he drained his beer “Right, I need another drink. Anyone else want one?”

“Yeah, I’ll come with you” Steve said “Frank?”

“I’m good, thanks.” “You can have one or two, surely?” Steve looked at him.

“Leave him alone.” Bill said, shoving his son on the shoulder, “That’s your sister and my little girl he’s looking out for…” “Fuckin’ pussy…” Steve snorted playfully and Frank threw the burger flipper at him.

Bill and Steve walked away, playfully squabbling and a few seconds later Frank felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around him from behind, Fliss pressing her lips to the space between his shoulder blades.

“Hey gorgeous.” He said, moving so she could slide under his arm. He pressed a kiss to her head “You ok?”

“Yeah, fine.” She smiled, looking up at him. “You know I really do I love your hair." He said, taking in the lighter colour even more in the now closing light of day. Over the past two years, her vivid auburn had gradually tone down and was now a light brown, laced with copper and blonde.

“Thanks.” She said, a little shyly and Frank frowned.

“Don’t you like it?”

“No, I love it…it’s just, well, actually it doesn’t matter.” “Lissy.” He looked at her sternly, and she sighed, her hands worrying one another so Frank put the cooking utensils down and took them in his. “Tell me what’s going on.” “John hated me changing it.” She shrugged “Which is why I went so bright red in the first place. Once I left him I just fancied doing something wild. I’ve always liked it a bit lighter. He insisted I kept it dark…”

“Well you can do what the fuck you want with it.” He assured her, “Unless you want to shave it all off. Then I might raise some objections.” “Sorry. She said gently and he frowned.

“What for?” “Raising him again” she shrugged “We’ve been together almost 2 years now and…” “Hey.” He said, “Don’t ever apologise. I’d rather you tell me when you’re feeling like this. You know that.”

“Of course I do, I just wonder sometimes if it’s ever gonna stop.”

“So what if it doesn’t?” Frank looked at her. She blinked and he shrugged “I’ve told you, you can always talk to me. Nothing you say is gonna make me mad.”

She smiled at him as he dropped his head, gently giving her a peck. “I know, I just get fed up sometimes. Stupid little memories and flashbacks.” “I know.” He smiled at her, kissing her head softly “But they don’t rule your life anymore, not like they used to. They’re just…”he hesitated “A minor annoyance, a bit like him really, insignificant.”

“He’s even more insignificant now.” She grinned “He’s fucking dead.”

At that Frank let out a snort “I take it you’re not longer feeling numb then.”

She shrugged “Mum said exactly the same as you before, that we should be throwing a party so…”

Frank chuckled again, pulling her into him even further as he turned back to the grill.

******

Despite it being her due date the following day there was no sign of Bean. And he didn’t make an appearance on the Monday either. On Tuesday they headed in for an assessment at the hospital, and after an examination the Midwife smiled at Fliss as she lay on the bed.

"Well, Miss Gallagher... he is in the right position." The midwife smiled. “Dropped and ready.” "He needs to hurry up." Fliss grumbled "He was due two days ago.” "Your due date is never exact. I wouldn't worry. His heartbeat is strong, he'll arrive when he is ready." "Already taking after his father." Fliss shot a side glance at Frank who raised an eyebrow. "Ok so if there's no sign of him by the morning of the 28th then just call" the woman said and Frank bit back a smirk at the look of utter disgust on Fliss' face "We'll check everything and do a sweep to get things moving." "Is there anything we can do?" Fliss practically whined "Spicy food? Pineapple? Speed bumps?" The Midwife laughed "I'm afraid they're only old wives tales. The only one with a shred of credibility is sex." Frank grinned and Fliss shot him a glare. "Semen contains prostaglandins" the midwife shot Fliss a wink "It can trigger the release of oxytocin which is a hormone that can help contractions." At that it was Fliss' turn to grin. "So all I need is your sperm and a turkey baster Sailor. Unlucky." Frank rolled his eyes and mentally cursed the midwife for her damned scientific explanation. "But in essence if your body isn’t ready to labour, nothing you do will necessarily get you going." She smiled "Sorry, you're just gonna have to ride it out." Despite the joking there was no activity in the bedroom that night other than a lot of tossing and turning as Fliss was really struggling to get comfortable enough to sleep. Frank hated seeing her so tired and fed up but when at 3:30 am he sleepily asked her if she needed anything she simply asked for a cuddle which he was more than happy to provide.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled.

“What for?”

“I know I've been a pain these last 2 weeks.”

“You’re heavily pregnant and fed up.” He said, kissing her head

“I wouldn't be able to do this alone. I don't know how my mum did.” She said softly. Frank sighed and pulled her closer, remembering how upset she had been a week or so back when their conversation one evening with Mary had turned to Frank telling her how he had been with Diane when she was born. Hormones be damned, it had set Fliss off about how nice it was that Frank had been there and stood by Diane and how she wished her own mom had that, but instead Verity’s parents had kicked her out and left her alone and pregnant at the age of 19.

Frank knew Verity had been young when she had Fliss, although he had never expressly asked he had worked it out from the fact she was 9 years Bill's junior. He also knew there was a lot of bad blood on that side of the family and that Fliss had never met her maternal grandparents, even when they reached out to her later down the line. She had rather impolitely told them to fuck off, Verity doing the same. When asked by Mary why she hadn’t forgiven them as they were family, Fliss had shrugged and simply replied that family isn't and never would be about blood, but instead it was about those people who saw you at your absolute worst and wanted you just the same. "You've nothing to be sorry for.” Frank gently soothed her, “And you're not on your own. You never will be." "I know." She looked up at him, smiling as he gave her a soft kiss.

Things continued much the same for the rest of the week. Every so often Fliss would get a twinge, and the pair of them would get excited, thinking this was it, only for nothing to happen. On the Friday, almost a week post her due date, Frank called the midwife who arranged for them to come in the next morning. Evelyn, who was being particularly helpful, even if Frank was loath to admit it cooked for them all that night, but Fliss had struggled to eat her meal, declaring she felt a bit sick. After a profound apology to Evelyn she announced she was heading for a bath and then going to bed.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Frank asked and Fliss shook her head.

“It’s not even 7. I might be back down in an hour or so if I feel better.” “Ok, can you manage-“

“Frank!” she said, exasperatedly. “I’m fine.” “Well, you’re-“ he began and Evelyn laid her hand on his arm and shook her head gently. For the first time in, well, as long as he could remember, he obeyed an order from his mother and stopped. “Alright. Just shout me then if you need anything.”

She gave him a kiss on his cheek, her way of apology for snapping and headed off.

“You won’t need that appointment tomorrow.” Evelyn said after a pause and Frank turned to her.

“What makes you say that?” “Because I felt the same the day before I went into labour with you.” Evelyn said “Queasy, tired, just generally off.” “Well, I hope you’re right because she’s fed up.” Frank sighed “He’s fully cooked now, just being a stubborn little bastard.”

“What was it you once said to me about an apple and a tree analogy?” she looked at him, arching an eyebrow and Frank snorted.

“Yeah ok, you got me there” he conceded.

Fliss didn’t come back down after her bath. Frank popped in on her a few times and she was simply led in bed, trying to get comfortable, tearfully complaining that her back ache was particularly bad. Frank led besides her for half an hour or so, gently working at the lower part of her spine that was giving her the trouble before he realised she’d fallen asleep. He left her to it, heading back down to his mother and Mary, before a few hours later, just before 10, they all decided to go to bed as it had been a long day. Fliss didn’t wake up when he slid in besides her, nor when he dropped a kiss to her cheek. He watched her for a moment as she lay, facing him, before he too closed his eyes.

***** His baby was sat on his knee, grinning up at him. He smiled down at the boy, whose hands were wrapped tight around his index fingers. He glanced up, looking around for Fliss but there was no sign of her. Nor Mary for that matter. Hoisting Alex up onto his hip he headed out to the garden and gave a start as he saw both Fliss and Mary floating face down in the pool.

“No, no…” he began to mutter, before his muttering became frantic yells “No, this…not my girls…not…”

With a start, Frank sat straight upright in bed, breathing deeply. He glanced at the clock on the side which read 23:30, damned he hadn’t even been asleep an hour! What the fuck…

He wiped his clammy brow and lay back, feeling Fliss stir besides him.

“Frank?” she asked softly, “Are you ok?” “Bad dream.” He mumbled, turning onto his side and sliding his arm under her neck, pulling her back into his chest.

“You wanna talk about it?” she asked.

He shook his head with the air of a small child, pressing his nose into her neck, breathing in her smell and comfort. As he nuzzled at her, he felt her sigh a little and push back further into him.

“Stop it.” She muttered.

“Stop what?” he asked.

“That.” She said, “On my neck…”

“Why?” he teased, his nose being replaced by his lips as he gently trailed open mouthed kisses up to her ear.

“You know why…”

“You ready to try what the midwife suggested?” he muttered, his mouth nipping at her ear and she gave a laugh.

“I'm willing to try anything. Just make it quick, I’m not bothered about coming. I only need your sperm.” “Charming…” he snorted as she gave a soft chuckle. His hand that had been resting on her bump softly moved down a little as he shifted, snaking his leg in between hers, opening her up slightly. He hooked her leg up over his hip, his fingers softly trailing up her bare thigh, shifting her sleep shorts to one side as he slipped his hand gently into her folds. She bucked harshly.

“Easy baby.” he muttered.

“Can’t help it.” she let out a soft sigh “Sensitive…” With a smile, he used his other hand to tip her head round so he could catch her mouth with his own, kissing her gently, his tongue softly sliding against hers, swallowing the moans and groans she was eliciting as he worked her with his hand. Had she been a little more with it, she might have been slightly embarrassed at how pathetically short a period of time it was before he had her clamping down around his fingers, shuddering as her release washed over her, but she was too gone to care. She’d hardly even come down from her orgasm when Frank eased her shorts down, then his boxers and with a gently push forward slid into her, the pair of them letting out hushed sighs as he began to slowly slide in and out of her. There was no haste to his movements, no rush, nothing, it was gentle, sweet, loving as he kept her held close to him, his lips lavishing affection on her shoulders and neck. Before long he heard and felt he breathing falling into that tell-tale staccato panting and she let out a low, quiet but downright filthy noise from her throat and Frank’s lips curved into a grin against her neck.

“Come on beautiful…” he mumbled, the heat in his own belly was sending spikes of fire up and down his body as he fought to keep control for a little longer “Come on.” And she did, her head tipped back and with a stuttering whisper of his name he felt her tighten around him, her legs quivering as he himself came, his hips slowing to a stop as he gently bit down on her shoulder. The pair of them lay still for a while, his hand softly curving up and around her bump, over her hip, down her thigh and back again, gently repeating the motion.

“You ok?” he asked and she nodded, humming in contentment. He pulled out of her, righted their items of clothing as Fliss hardly moved. He kept her pressed close to him as he closed his eyes, drifting off again.

He was woken 3 hours later, just before 4 am by Fliss shaking his arm.

“Frank…”

He groaned but didn’t open his eyes.

“Frank…Bean…I think he’s on his way…”

He let out a grin and turned over “My sperms worked then…” he mumbled into the pillow.

Fliss looked at him, waiting for the moment her words registered in his sleep-addled brain, which happened roughly 10 or so seconds later when he suddenly sat bolt upright, turning to face her.

“Penny dropped?” she asked arching an eyebrow.

He blinked “He’s…” She nodded, “Yeah…” He blinked again before he swallowed, and with a grin stuttered out a single word.

“Shit!”

[descentintobandom]

Hallelujah

Title: Hallelujah Chapter: One-Shot Pairing: Harry/OC Rating: T Fic Summary: Tori’s father has just passed away and Harry is there is comfort and support her. Author’s Notes: This one-shot was extremely hard for me to write because I know what it’s like to loose a parent (even one that you aren’t close to) and it forever leaves this void in your heart that nothing will ever fill. I don’t really want to get into the specifics of it, but I poured a lot of myself into this. It took me nearly two days to write it and I got very emotional last night and had to stop. The version they’re singing is a combination of the one Harry did himself and the one Pentatonix did. That’s what I was trying to get across in this. I highly recommend listening to both. As for the lyrics: Harry, Tori, both.

Harry returned home to singing.

It didn’t sound like it was coming from a laptop or iPod. It wasn’t a voice he recognized, but it sounded beautiful.

He was about to call out for Tori when he stepped on something. It was a letter and a piece of paper. The piece of paper was an obituary for a man named Richard Goodman.

“Oh, no”, Harry whispered.

Tori’s father had died.

He set the letter and the obituary on the coffee table and made his way to his home studio, where he found Tori sitting at his keyboard.

“Well, baby, I've been here before/I've seen this room and I've walked this floor (you know)/I used to live alone before I knew ya/And I've seen your flag on the marble arch/And love is not a victory march/It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah”, she sang. Her voice held such pain and sorrow that it nearly brought Harry to tears himself.

He carefully approached her and the moment his hand touched her shoulder, she broke down. He sat down next to her and she buried herself in his chest. Harry wrapped his arms around her and she drew comfort from his warmth. “Shhh”, he cooed, stroking her hair, “That was beautiful. You never told me you sing”.

“Because I don’t”, she said through sniffles, “Music isn’t a career. Only merely a hobby”.

“Then what do you call what I’ve been doing for the past 8 years?”

“It’s just…something my father used to say. It’s why I went into costume and makeup”.

“But babe, you’re really good”.

“No, Harry. I’m not using your fame to further my own career”.

“Were you close with your dad?”

Tori shrugged. “Not really. He loved me the best he could”.

“Would you…would you maybe want to record this song for him? To like…honor him?”

“We could do that? Without a record label or anything?”

“Babe, I can do anything”. Harry set everything up.

They decided to do a stripped down version with just the piano for accompaniment.

“I’ll sing the first verse and you come in on the Hallelujah and harmonize with me. You’ll take the last two verses. On the final Hallelujah’s, you can just go crazy and do whatever you want”, Harry told her.

They ran through it a few times, before Harry pressed the record button.

I'd heard there was a secret chord That David played and it pleased the Lord But you don't really care for music, do you? Well, it goes like this The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall, the major lift The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Well, your faith was strong but you needed proof You saw her bathing on the roof Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya She tied you to the kitchen chair She broke your throne and she cut your hair And from your lips, she drew the Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Well baby, I've been here before I've seen this room and I've walked this floor I used to live alone before I knew ya And I've seen your flag on the marble arch And love is not a victory march It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Well, maybe there's a God above But all I've ever learned from love Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya And it's not a cry that you hear at night It's not somebody who's seen the light It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Harry pressed the record button, ending the session.

Tori just sat there, staring at the wall.

“Tor?” Harry asked her.

“Promise me you’ll never leave me. Please”.

Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her forehead. “You won’t ever loose me. I promise. You’re stuck with me baby”.

A few months down the line, while Harry was doing press for the album release and Dunkirk, Tori and Harry took a trip to London so Harry could be on BBC Radio 1.

Tori decided to stay back at the hotel, but was listening on her phone.

“Good morning, Harry Styles! How are you?” Nick Grimshaw asked.

“I’m good. How are you?” Harry asked.

“I’m good. Now I understand that you’ve met someone new?”

Harry smiled and said, “Yeah, I have”.

“Look at that dopey grin. How’d you meet her?”

“She was my makeup artist on Dunkirk”.

“Mixing a little business with pleasure?” Nick teased, raising his eyebrows.

“No. nothing like that. We were very professional. She actually flat out refused to date me until filming was over”, Harry said, leaving out the part where they spent almost every night together.

“Oh, so she was playing hard to get”.

“No, it was both of ours’ first big project and I think neither of us wanted to jeopardize something that big”.

“Well what’s the lucky girl’s name?”

“Victoria”.

“Oh how fitting seeing as you’re British”.

Harry laughed.

“I understand you’ve got a new song for us and I’ve already listened to it. Who’s the girl with the pipes?”

“My girl actually”.

Nick’s mouth dropped open.

“I know. I had the same reaction when I heard her sing for the first time”, Harry said.

“It’s a beautiful song. What made you want to record it with her?”

“Well I came home and heard her singing it. Her father had just died and…”

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry for her loss. Did you ever meet him?”

“No, unfortunately. But I did meet her family at the funeral and they’re extremely lovely”.

“Did you wear one of your outrageous suits?”

“No, I kept it very tuned down. Even though she told me that she didn’t care what I wore”.

“She sounds great on the track”.

“Thank you. I’m sure she’ll appreciate that”.

“Can we expect her to be putting out an album?”

“I don’t think so. She said this is a one-off thing, but I’m not too sure”.

“Here’s a breathtaking version of “Hallelujah” sung by Harry Styles and his girlfriend Victoria”.

“Before we start the song, I just wanna say one thing. Tori, I know you’re listening baby, I love you and I promise you that I’m not going anywhere”.

Everyone in the studio “awed” as the song started playing.

[kayleygoestolondon]

Hola, Spain!

I’ve just logged on and realized that I haven’t posted since last summer... eek. In my defense, I didn’t travel anywhere exciting the first half of the school year, and by the time I went to Paris and Morocco, I thought people had surely lost interest in reading my posts. We have more important things to read about! Brexit! Donald Trump’s latest tweets! What bizarre name Kim Kardashian will give her newest baby! However, I had such an incredible time in Spain and Portugal that I figured I might as well write it down. Even if my grandparents are my only devoted readers, it’ll make a good memento for me to reflect on fondly when I’m 80 years old in a retirement centre in Camrose. 

My latest trip began with arguably the best flight I’ve ever had. Since I usually fly alone, I’m always stuck sitting beside one of the following Flight Ruiners™:

Crying infant who will not be soothed

Severely overweight person who insists on taking up most of my personal space

Armrest hogger

Somebody with a terrible illness (most likely the plague or Ebola) that coughs and sneezes the entire flight

NOT THIS TIME! I was seated with two guys from central London who were on their way to Barcelona for a bachelor party. At first, I expected the worst: when I flew to Morocco, an entire bachelor party boarded the plane at 6 AM already drunk and proceeded to be the most obnoxious human beings I’ve ever encountered for three hours. These guys redeemed my faith in good old British lads. They chatted with me the whole way about travel and insisted I have a drink with them to celebrate being hired at a new job! They even paid, which was great, because I am the stingiest person in the world and would never pay for a beer on a flight. It’s also part of my personal vendetta against RyanAir.  When we arrived in Barcelona, it was after midnight and pouring rain, so they offered to share their cab with me to make sure I got to my AirBnB safely. Chivalry isn’t dead after all!

My friends from Canada (Dillon, Candice, and Bal) were waiting up for me at the AirBnB with McDonald’s chicken nuggets and a batch of questionable homemade sangria. If that isn’t a welcome, I don’t know what is. 

BARCELONA

We had breakfast at the cutest tiny cafe and I had the best omelette of my life made by an equally cute and tiny Spanish woman. Also discovered that “cafe con leche” (Spanish coffee with milk) is pretty delicious.

We did a walking tour of the city and learned lots of interesting historical facts while seeing some of the main sights. On the tour, we met some other Canadians so we went for drinks with them afterwards. What a small world. 

Discovered you can go into a store and buy an entire jug of wine. Or, if you’re an efficient on-the-go type of person... wine juice boxes.

Checked out the Sagrada Familia. I’ve been to nearly every famous cathedral in Europe (#humblebrag) and this was the best one. If you go to Barcelona, it is 100% worth seeing.

Walked up to Parc Guell, which has a beautiful view over the city. Fun fact: the park was designed by Gaudi, the same designer of the Sagrada Familia. If you’re gonna read this all the way through, you bet I’m gonna give you some unrequested knowledge. His architectural style is pretty distinct and I really loved seeing how those elements were incorporated into the design of the park. 

Hopped in the car and prepared for the first portion of our journey. This is where it’s really important for me to note that we started our trip with “Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under” by Shania Twain (more like Shania SPAIN, am I right? lololol). This song did not leave our heads for the entire week. I’m not exaggerating. We sang it constantly. In the car. At the beach. In the bar. SHANIA TWAIN EVERY DAY. 

DRIVING IN SPAIN

Since Spain drives on the right side like we do (sorry UK friends, but the left side is stupid and I will fight you about it), it was pretty easy to navigate... excluding the massive traffic circles with stoplights in them and no lanes marked. We circled those in terror, not knowing what we were doing but somehow avoiding collisions.

There are tolls EVERYWHERE. We paid 40 euros in tolls between Barcelona and Valencia, which is a toll-tally ridiculous amount (lol, I’m not even sorry for these jokes)

The highways are really well-maintained, but are virtually empty. We encountered almost no traffic at all and didn’t see any police either. Dillon did not take advantage of this and drove a respectable speed the whole way, rather than living out our Fast & The Furious fantasy

The Spanish countryside is really gorgeous. It’s much more mountainous than I realized, particularly the areas that we drove through. We got some really stunning scenic views along the way.

We all had important roles within the car. Dillon was the Driver, I was the Navigator/DJ, Candice and Bal were the backseat Snoozers and Snack Providers. This meant that Dillon was the MVP of the trip, because he drove without any road rage at all (how is that even possible... my driving is just like a constant stream of swearing), whereas my sole contribution was playing 500 Miles by the Proclaimers as often as possible. 

VALENCIA

We had the unfortunate timing of arriving Valencia just as a massive football game was ending; Valencia had won against Barcelona to win the Copa Del Rey. The streets were swarming with people and the honking was endless. Easily the second-most stressful part of our drive. Want to know the worst one? READ ON FOR MORE (#clickbait)

Spent our whole day there at the beach. The weather was great, if not a bit windy, and Dillon was magically transformed into a red lobster thanks to the sunshine. We all went home with sand everywhere. I think I still had some in my ears at the end of the trip.

We enjoyed beers and a selection of meats and cheeses on the beach. We ate so much meat and cheese during this week. You may be thinking, “Meat and cheese seem very impractical to eat on the beach because of all the sand”, and you would be CORRECT... but sandy cheese is better than no cheese. 

There were no toilets or change stalls at the beach so we had to go on a bit of an excursion to find somewhere. We eventually infiltrated a fancy hotel to use their lobby bathroom. Candice and Bal got caught going in the second time when the concierge asked if they “had enjoyed the toilettes, and would they perhaps now like to pay for something from the hotel bar”. They ran away. Classic escape!

We sampled a traditional Spanish drink, horchata, which is a “plant-based milk drink” according to Wikipedia. Sounds appealing, right? We collectively hated it. That’s what we get for trying something non-alcoholic. Therefore, it was logically much safer to stick with beer for the rest of the trip. At least, that’s what I told myself.

GRANADA

En route to Granada, we passed through a place called Lorca. High on top of a mountain, we could see a massive fortress. We spontaneously decided to drive up there and check it out. Turns out Castillo de Lorca was built in the 9th century and is one of the largest castles in Spain. Super cool... and we were the only tourists there!

Most Stressful Driving Moment: leaving Lorca Castle. Obviously because it’s on top of a mountain, the roads coming down were windy and steep. Our Google Maps got confused and took us down a side road into this local area that was hellishly narrow and we ended up going down a road that was like a 75 degree angle. I had visions of us driving our poor Volkswagen Polo off the edge of the cliff. Dillon, ever the stoic hero, got us out of it while I panicked and failed at asking locals for directions.

Our apartment in Granada was in the historic part of the city, within the old city walls. Think super tiny, winding cobblestone streets with high buildings. It was very charming, if not excessively sweaty climbing all the stairs. Good thing there was beer at the top!

In the evening, we went for a really great traditional dinner and then to a flamenco show. Definitely one of the highlights of the trip for me. For some reason, the waiter did not seem to think we were capable of drinking 2L of sangria when we first placed our order. We proved him wrong.

We sampled churros with chocolate the next morning. This is apparently quite a traditional thing and honestly I could eat it every day for the rest of my life. Who doesn’t want to start their day with deep-fried dough and chocolate dip?

As we left Granada, we stopped at Alhambra Palace & Gardens. It was founded in 889 AD and mostly constructed in the 13th century. The gardens were stunning and were more impressive than anything I’ve seen before, including the gardens of the Taj Mahal. (#humblebrag2) 

SEVILLE

It was a long walk from our AirBnB to the centre of Seville and it was about 35 degrees out, so we punctuated our stroll with frequent beer stops. This meant that we were feeling pretty good by the time we arrived at the Plaza de Espana. Some scenes from Game of Thrones were filmed here, so you could probably add our names to the credits now.

We then had the best seafood paella and sangria at a local restaurant! The paella was HUGE... and we ate all of it. No regrets. 

Seville was one of the friendliest places I’ve ever been. When we went for breakfast the next morning, we went to a local cafe where literally nobody spoke any English. The manager seemed really excited that we were there and got us our own separate table. There was no menu, so we managed to communicate that he could bring us whatever he wanted. We got this awesome selection of incredible sandwiches and he checked to make sure we were happy with them. Everywhere we went, people were super eager to please and would joke around with us, despite the language barrier. I’d go back here in a second.

FARO

We crossed the border into Portugal after leaving Seville and made a pitstop at Praia de Faro. It’s a small island that’s basically just beautiful beach and little bars and restaurants. We had some great beach time and beers because it was a scorching 37 degrees. Dillon attained an even higher level of lobster. 

Women on the beaches of Spain and Portugal often go topless... so when we asked a stranger to take a photo of the four of us on the beach, I realized afterwards that there was a mostly-naked lady in the background. Thank goodness for Photoshop; I made that disappear. 

LISBON

People in Portugal speak better English than people in Spain. I only managed to learn two words in Portuguese: “cerveja” (beer) and “obrigada” (thank you). I got along with those pretty well :)

The metro system in Lisbon is super easy and efficient, so for the first time we took advantage of public transit and spared ourselves walking everywhere in the extreme heat

When we went out for dinner that evening, we discovered that boiled meats are pretty standard in Portuguese cuisine. This was not my favourite :( On the other hand, Portuguese custard tarts (pasteis de nata) are phenomenal.  

We checked out the seaside and a couple of cool markets. We also took a walking tour here to learn more about the city. Our tour guide recommended a super cool bar underneath a church. There was some kind of street festival going on, so there were outdoor bars and decorations everywhere. We explored that and then ended at an outdoor cinema. 

I had to get up at 4:30 the next morning to get an Uber to the airport. Note to self: next time I have an early flight, don’t have so many cervejas the night before. Lesson learned. 

If you’ve made it this far, wow - you probably need a hobby! This trip was so much fun and so interesting; I really wanted to take the time to tell the story. If you haven’t been to Spain or Portugal, maybe I’ve convinced you to go. I couldn’t recommend it enough. I owe the biggest thank you to Dillon, Candice, and Bal for being my travel companions and for making me laugh a million times during the trip. What an amazing final experience before I head back to Canada in August :) 

[abahwrites]

The Last Frosting

When it comes to cake, everybody’s arguing who’s bake it the best, who makes it so good, and what’s more important is that you… are the one that people expected to butcher the whole thing to pieces. To some people, men couldn’t cook, and women couldn’t maintain their laptop desktop screen. The statement is somewhat vague and not entirely accurate. Well, at least not for Jack Morrison, his wife Angela Ziegler, and their two beautiful daughters, Jacklyn Morrison and Jenna von Ziegler; both grew up and beautifully aged. Jack always had fear when it comes to baking a cake, many of his numerous past events are spent in the kitchen with his lovely mother, baking a cake and then it turns into something more… messier than Jack had thought at first.

Jack are afraid of messing up the kitchen all by himself, not wanting to make his beloved mother or his beloved, cheeky wife clean up all the mess he made that day. To make something sweet or savory, it is his childhood dream, and to make people happy with his food are something magical that bound to happen in his life. Later in the morning, he’s sitting down on the couch while babysit his little angels by watching a two-hours worth of old cartoons and having a good laugh with them while Angela cooks breakfast for them in the kitchen.

While waiting for the dish steamed perfectly, Angela said. “Jack, I know you spend most of your time with your mom, wouldn’t it be rude if you didn’t continue what she had started?” Angela teased him while grilling the turkey in the oven. “Your mother wouldn’t be so much proud of you when you stop…”

“Stop it, Angie. I know you want me to bake something, right?” Jack cut off Angela’s spiced-up lies. “And please, don’t bring up my mother when it comes to baking.”

Angela conceded. “Alrighty, big boy. Show me what you got, then.”

“Mom and Dad actually going to have a bake-off?” Jenna gasped. “This is better than the cartoon on TV,” she reached the remote and turned off the TV. As she turns back to their parents standing side by side, holding kitchen utensils while looking at each other seriously, Jenna commented. “This sounds like those cooking competition shows I saw many times ago.”

Jacklyn chimed in. “Yeah, and this looks like… the Grand Finale. Where two of the best cooks battle each other for the throne.”

Jenna nodded. “Uh huh! It seems so! In the count of three, you guys prepare everything you need, okay?”

Jack and Angela nodded in confidence.

Three… two… one…

As the countdown reaches one, Jack and Angela began to search for their preferred ingredients and tools to start. Jack seems in trouble when it comes to thinking about a recipe since he hasn’t been baking a cake for such long time, as for Angela she carries on calmly and doing all the work confidently like a chef in the five stars hotel kitchen. Angela could hear her husband mumbling about something to do with the Black Forest, but Jack couldn’t manage to find the perfect ingredient to complete the recipe. Since the judges didn’t give him a borrowed time, he went out to Mama Denise’s Store, one of Angela’s favorite baking stops in Indiana, and it is in front of their house, which gave him a slight advantage to buy missing ingredients and to add it later on the bake-off.

“Dad is such a determined person, isn’t it, Jacklyn?” Jenna asked while judging their mom’s work.

Jacklyn nodded. “He appears to not have the perfect ingredient for his cake, and he’s running back and forth to buy things that he could buy before this bake-off even start.”

“Is he cheating?” Jenna asked Angela about her opinion regarding that matter.

“He is cheating, my angels.”

“But we didn’t set up the rules, right?”

“Oh yeah, we forget to do it. So, Daddy’s not cheating.”

“That’s very unfair, you know?” Angela’s mouth sullen, a slight disappointment could be heard in her tone.

“Well, this is our first time judging you guys baking and cooking and all that!” Jenna smirked with a devilish tone.

“Fine, but sure to make rules before this kind of thing happened again in the future, okay?”

“Right. We’ll keep that in mind.”

Jack finally come back from the store covered in sweat, as he went back to the kitchen and putting all of his missing ingredients on the table and let out several uncontrollable breaths, he began to pour Kirsch into a small bowl containing 10 red cherries. Then, he proceeds to pre-heat the oven for 175 Celcius, and while waiting for the oven to get some gentle heat, Jack mixed the flour, two cups of sugar, cocoa, and some baking powder, baking soda, and salt altogether. Next, he adds some eggs, milk, oil, and one tablespoon of vanilla until it’s all well-blended. Jack’s baking caught everyone in the eyes, although he’s covered in sweat and furiously mumbling to himself, Angela, Jacklyn, and Jenna watch him stirring all the ingredients to perfection and maintain his calm all the way. At that time, his hair is nothing more like Angela, and he grew his beard to perfectness, just like those old man beards on men magazine.

The Three Angels were flustered by this appearance. The muscles, the beard, the long hair… and the charming smile of Jack makes them heavily covered in blush.

As he poured the batter into the prepared pans, covered in butter and waxed papers, Jack wiped some of his sweat from his forehead and then put in the pan to the oven and bake it for 35 minutes.

Jack rubs his hands, a sign that he didn’t butcher the recipe. “Well, I’m sorry if I cheat. Didn’t know that this small argument about how I messed up the kitchen turns out as a bake-off. About I’m messing up your grandmother’s kitchen is not entirely accurate, however,” Jack apologized to all of his beloved angels. “At least I made it when your mother already put her batter to the oven, right?” Jack smiled while sitting down on the couch and turned on the TV. “So, that’s fair for me.”

Sometimes, you can never underestimate a male’s skill on everything, although it looks bad and not as you expected, they pulled it off nicely. Angela watches her husband’s batter began to crack on top, one of the biggest no-nos in Angela’s life in the kitchen, but she didn’t give a care and continue watching her perfect batter to grew as something delicious in the end. Jenna and Jacklyn so far are on their mother’s side. While waiting for his recipe to bake, he drained the cherries soaked in Kirsch and began to make the cream, he didn’t forget to sweeten the cherries by adding a cup of sugar and cornstarch in a saucepan, stirring it carefully until thickened over a low heat. After it’s getting cold a bit, he adds a teaspoon of vanilla to enhance the taste.

He puts whipped cream and confectioner’s sugar into a bowl, mixed it vigorously at high speed with an electric mixer as he watches his wife began to decorate her cake, with confidence, Jack continue to do what he must do. After Angela put the last touch of the cake and served it to her family, it went fine, and they are all like the cake she made, although Jack is not sure what cake is she bake or what recipe Angela follows – cooking or baking things are not taken seriously by Jack until now.

He cuts the cake with a serrated knife horizontally and makes sure all the cake is perfectly cut and served. While his wife watching in keen interest and there’s some cream left at his disposal, Jack began to decorate the cake like he once saw in the cake shops many times ago. While he’s covering it with cream he started to put the cherries on top of the cake as soon as the top decoration finished, he continued it from the middle to the bottom part of it and end it with chocolate shavings and then put it in the fridge overnight.

A night never gets cold when there’s someone around you who gave you the best physical pleasure in your life. Blues song was vividly heard downstairs as they wait for Jack’s cake to harden and ready to serve, two cups of hot chocolate soothe the mood quickly as Angela lays down her head on Jack’s shoulder.

“You are a great baker, Jack. Why you don’t open a patisserie?” Angela asked.

“Well, being a soldier is enough for me, sweetheart,” Jack said, declining his intention to build a patisserie.

“Why?”

“Too much patisserie in one town is just plain nonsense, Angela. Who the damn buys a cake from three different patisseries?”

“Good point.” Angela agreed.

“Let’s see my cake. I hope you like it.” Jack said.

As soon as they cut the cake, the mouth-watering cream dissolves in their mouths immediately, and it is magical for all the family members, Angela and her Angels sure underestimate Jack’s proficiency in baking a cake. They enjoyed the cake like it was the last time they meet Jack face to face and not wanting to ruin the mood they’re having right now.

To be honest…

That was four years ago…

That was three days before… they took my Mercy and my Angels.

Hope you guys like it. Cheers. :)

[lavieenjones]

March 15th, 2017

"Work is the curse of the drinking classes"- Oscar Wilde, so says the bathroom wall of the waterside bar, the Anchor, of sweet and perfect Cambridge, UK.

More than a few weeks ago now I had an important meeting in London; to summarize how it went, I'll just say I arrived less than an hour before it started (as per the preference of my boss), ruined my shoes with rain, got blisters while hauling ass to the office and only half the leave behind usbs were loaded by the time I sat down across from my clients. Cut to two hours later and I was eating a Cadbury egg in my hotel king with the blinds drawn waiting on the potpie I'd ordered to scarf down before I turned in for blissful oblivion. Two more hours after that, I woke up, had a couple conference calls from my pillow throne and then took UK public transit for the first time to visit Jack in Camden. First of all, I felt like I was entering Narnia walking down the stairs of the tube... or about to walk out onto platform 9 3/4 (more on this later), or have my life split into two scenarios changed by a split second.. it was exactly like the movies and I was enchanted, and annoyed with myself for having been intimidated before and just ubering my heart out each time I come here. Camden is a much older and much edgier Wicker Park. So I fell hard and fast for the walls graffiti-ed to the teeth, body heat pouring out of open pub doors, stories of music icons around every corner and the overall juxtaposition between quaint and grimy. Jack and I got fish and chips at cute place called Poppies and then stepped back in time when we entered the Elephants Head wherein mod hipsters (if that's a thing) were dancing to oldies like they were in the 60s. It was the type of conundrum where I wanted to stare at them in their, to me, costumes and Factory dance moves, but not so much that I seemed uncool.

Anyway.. that Friday night was for cheeseburgers, old CO friends, and St. Paul and the Broken Bones. Also known as the inaugural International Concert Club show! At the risk of sounding like he-who-must-not-be-named, my memories from the performance are monosyllabic hyperbole: Great time. Best night ever. He was amazing. Everyone was dancing. The best, ask anyone. But really, this was my first time seeing the band and they have such a strange and funny stage presence. St. Paul himself kept demanding adoration and I was, each time, annoyed and then immediately compliant. He ducking earned it.

Next day, Cambridge. We awoke early, some might say too early, took three showers and were out the door by 9:00. Feeling accomplished and bizarrely prepared for the day I think is what ultimately did us in. Lauren had everything planned perfectly. And then Father Time (is he a thing?) thought he'd teach is a lesson. We needed to fill Lauren's Oyster card only to find out it's cash only and it had a negative £5.50 balance. Ok so we got that sorted, then Lauren can't find her phone. And as 1) it's her phone and 2) maybe more immediately important, had our train and boat tickets on it, we freaked out. For about 2 minutes then realized we can use anyone's phone to access said tickets. Crisis averted. Next is the bus to kings cross- the one for which we needed to fill the metro card and to which we had to run to make and then missed anyway. In the end the card reader was down rendering our earlier errand useless. We arrived at Kings Cross with 15 minutes to spare before our train. But a couple of things had to happen first: Skye wanted to see platform 9 3/4 (her obsession with HP slowly revealed itself over the next 24 hours of our acquaintance), and we all wanted coffee. So obviously coffee will out and we queued up at Starbucks. I must be too used to slurring my words hoping people will understand what I want but not hear me clearly enough to criticize my French because even though I was speaking in English when I asked for a croissant the cashier person pushed porridge on me and I didn't fight her too hard. I was just in my pre-coffee haze and kind of mumbled "porridge? S'like oatmeal? Ok..". Anyway, between two porridges, one maybe gluten-free yogurt, three espresso laden concoctions, and 3+ minutes of discussion on how many spoons we required we were going to miss our train. So we decided to claim innocence/ignorance and just board the next one. Plus this would give us time to geek out on Harry Potter stuff. But imagine three women showing mild interest in a location recreation from a favorite reading pastime (or current for me since I just finished the series) and then imagine 50+ tourists queuing up with house scarves and wands to take their picture pretending to slam into the wall. (Lauren, please please please toss that picture into the comments section. It is the absolute perfect illustration of the.. situation.) Very happy with ourselves again, we start to walk to the train early to get some seats together, but we pass LEON which has for-sure gluten-free stuff. So Skye gets her porridge on and Lauren and I wait. All the time in the world. We might as well have been whistling. In short, Skye left her cc at LEON, and there was a confusing PA announcement about which car we needed to be that by the time we got in our seats, the porridges were cold and I was sweating. At this point we'd established a theme for the day of being overly confident of our timing abilities, having to run to make every mode of transportation and still nearly missing them, and harassing Skye about her love of Hogwarts.

Cambridge was just idyllic (day drinking) bliss. We walked by historic schools/churches/buildings and went into historic bars. There was one in particular that someone told us WWII pilots painted the ceiling-- because this made no sense we investigated and turns out they painted their names on the ceiling. This made more sense but then again, not really. Would have been an odd job for a war veteran to take up, painting bar ceilings. After this we picked up the makings for BYO mimosas and ran to catch our boat. A lot like gondolas in Venice, in that you're about a foot above the water, but not like them at all when you're facing a mom who dresses like her teen daughter, said teen daughter, and mom's obviously new husband instead of the view of the river. Turns out we were the only ones to take the BYO instructions seriously. Needlesstosay, the punter (look it up) gave everyone but us a comment card. I was so in love with Cambridge by then and so mimosa'd out that as Vivian Ward would say that was a "big mistake.. huge".

Another big mistake, showing Lauren and Skye the hand signals a foreign exchange student from China showed me once on the bus ride home. Offended countless passengers. Still, despite the rough start to the weekend with the better-to-be-forgotten client meeting, and ending with potentially racist sign language, it was the best visit to London to date. Hands down.

Part deux of the International Concert Club happened two weekends ago. Lauren came down and we saw Band of Horses. It was so great to see them; like seeing old friends. Despite not knowing any of their new songs because the last time I really listened to them was 2011 (?), it was still so wonderfully reassuring and familiar. I had a moment of pure happiness during The Great Salt Lakes. Sometimes these moments of realization and appreciation smack into me: I am living in another country, seeing a band I love(d), with a dear friend. Nothing better. You'd think I was their biggest fan considering the smile I had on my face and that I've now seen them play in three different cities. .. well, maybe I am.

The same weekend, thanks to Lauren's culinary prowess and Chrissy Tiegan's amazing recipes, I/we hosted a dinner party. Was really fun to be able to reciprocate to sweet Lize who's always cooking for others and to have some semblance of a social life for 48 hours.

Since then, spring has sprung in Paris. On the first warm-ish night, I did an impromptu walking tour of the St. Germain des Pres area, and the Latin Quarter. Here, cafes were overflowing with people enjoying the weather, spilling over into the streets where other people were strolling or swaying along to the live music around every corner; this was the ol' Paree I have been waiting for. Just like the Elephant's Head in Camden, I was thrown back in time and it was... euphoric. It was also a magical experience to visit the Pantheon (though not as cool as Rome's IMO), the Sorbonne, the fountain of Saint-Michel, some other old buildings, something relating to Montaigne, and always, the Seine by night. I cannot wait for summer.