#like. i know exactly why it's like that it's because my grandfather built this house and he was. creative

[ragsy]

I love living in a house that, every time I have to call out a plumber or an electrician to look at something, it always ends with the maintenance guy putting his hands on his hips and going "huh. That's weird, why is it like that"

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 14

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+! Word Count: 9.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* Cute and cocky Max, the triumphant return of Cutie the Bat, so much fluff, dancing as foreplay, discussions of sex. Summary: An unexpected invitation yields surprising revelations, and Max has some help in planning a night that neither of you will ever forget. Notes: This week enjoy a colorized photo of Cornelius Vanderbilt II and wife Alice's palatial primary residence at 5th and 57th in Manhattan. Sold in the late 1920s, the mansion was later demolished and the current Bergdorf Goodman's location built in its place. At the end of the chapter I've added in a black and white photo of the house's ballroom, which makes a special appearance in this chapter!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13

The entirety of the journey traveling from Newport to the Vanderbilt’s house on Fifth Avenue is far more tiring than you had anticipated, and when you walk in the front door of the grand mansion — with its palatial fireplace that you have only seen in photos from the Metropolitan Museum of Art — it suddenly makes a lot more sense why people talk about travel being such an undertaking in the past. You are, in point of fact, exhausted. And dirty, which is unexpected. The kicked up dust and dirt from train terminals, unpaved roads, and all manner of other frustrations has your wishing for a bath.

That will have to wait, though, as almost the moment you walk through the door Mrs. Vanderbilt is by your elbow with an envelope. “This arrived for you this morning, dear,” Alice tells you with an impressed smile. “It seems you have been summoned.” The look of confusion on your face must be particularly lustily unintelligent because Alice Vanderbilt’s smile softens into something maternal. “Mrs. William Astor has asked you to tea, I suspect. You must have made quite an impression on her at the Brown’s ball.”

“Oh!” The imposing woman in her fifties had made quite the impression on you, as well, and you carefully open the envelope that Alice has pressed into your hand. It is exactly as Alice predicted, and you look up at the grandfather clock in the hall. “Just a few hours…” you murmur, looking over at Max, Annie and Emmanuel with concern pursing your expression. “It…seems to only be addressed to me?”

“Because the invitation is just for you.” Alice hums, as if the answer is obvious. “Do not be alarmed, most often highly statured ladies like Mrs. Astor prefer their socializing in smaller circles.” She leans in and lowers her voice. “Less gossip that way.”

“I will do my best not to embarrass any of you with poor manners.” It’s an honor, in this time and this place. You know that. But that doesn’t mean you’re not seriously nervous.

“After watching you charm a ballroom, I would never dream of such a thing.” Alice waves away your concern. “Come. You must be exhausted by your journey. I will have some tea and refreshments sent to your rooms.”

While Annie and Emmanuel are shown to separate rooms on opposite ends of the long second-floor hallway, you and Max are let into a green-and-white decorated guest room on the third floor that sports one slightly larger bed. The footman who showed you the way leaves you with a bow and closes the door to give you privacy, leaving you standing with Max in the middle of the luxurious room.

“Swanky.” Max hums as he looks around the room. “I have to admit, there’s something missing in modern decor. It’s just not as…elegant.”

“I like that we have the whole newlyweds thing going for us,” you admit, looking around the room while you lean into his side. “They just assume we want to be close to each other. And they’re right.”

Max smiles smugly. “Of course you want to stay close to me.” He brags, winking at you playfully. “You want my body.”

“If you’re going to be cocky about it, I’m not going to tell you what I’ve been thinking.” Raising one eyebrow at him, you dearly wish you were in comfortable jeans and a sweater so you could just plop down on the mattress and stretch out. The traveling dress you have on definitely won’t permit that.

He eyes you wickedly and bites his lip. “Yeah?” He hums. “You don’t want to tell me that you’ve imagined me under that dress of yours? Tongue at work while you pretend to be prim and proper?”

“I’ve been imagining more than that.” It seems like every step you take with him only spurs you onto the next a little faster. Knowing that his tendency toward caretaking with you isn’t just a show or just to get in your pants means more than you can really say. Max loves you, fully and without ulterior motive. And you love him the same.

“Oh yeah?” He snags your waist, pulling you close and grinning as he pulls the bow around your waist loose. He’s teasing you, but he also knows you must be desperate to get out of your dress.

“Maybe.” Flustered and dreamy-eyed, you put your arms around his neck and let him hold you as close as he wants. “Are you really gonna get me all riled up before I have to go have tea with the Mrs. Astor?”

“Why don’t I relax you before you have tea with the Mrs. Astor?” He poses. “Make you cum while you clean up.”

“A very dirty way of getting clean.” You hum, tipping your head back to silently ask for a kiss. “And maybe…a preview to tonight?”

“My wife is greedy.” Max boasts happily. “Wanting to sleep with a tongue inside her.”

“I was thinking maybe…” You can’t help it, biting your lip to keep the grin blossoming across your face from getting too big. “Of a different part of you…”

“Fingers?” Max lifts a brow at you and grins when you shake your head. “Toe? I’ve never tried that before, to be honest.”

"I'm ready." You tell him, warmth in your cheeks and in your smile. "If you are."

“Are you sure?” Max asks seriously, reaching up and brushing his fingers over your pulse. “I don’t want you to rush because you think I’m impatient.”

"I'm sure." His sweetness is part of the reason, but you know he would deflect if you said so. "I love you, and I want to celebrate that."

“It will be good.” He promises sincerely. “Like you’ve never experienced before.”

“If it’s good then it definitely will be like I’ve never experienced before,” you joke, rolling your eyes in exaggeration to make him laugh. “Honestly love, please don’t feel any pressure. I just…I want to share this with you. That’s all.”

“I’ve felt plenty of pressure.” Max jokes, smirking at his innuendo. “But if you’re ready, the perfect place to make love to my wife for the first time, would be in the bed at the Vanderbilt’s mansion.”

“Time travel bragging right.” Every time he gets so proud to call you his wife it gives you a little shiver and you grin.

“And it’s not like we are breaking into a museum to do it.” He chuckles and turns you around to start unbuttoning the back of your traveling dress. “It will be quite the ‘feather in your cap’ as your grandfather likes to say.”

“And we’re even in the time where people actually wear feathers in their caps.” His nimble fingers are quick to undo the outer layer of your dress, pulling away the top to let you stretch a little more easily in just your corset cover and corset above what seems like miles of petticoats. Without those big sleeves it’s a lot easier to move.

Max snickers. “I’m just grateful we didn’t come to a time where wearing tights was fashionable.” He jokes.

“Why not?” You smirk at him over your shoulder. “You’ve got great legs.”

“Yeah, but it would leave nothing to the imagination, package wise.” He snorts.

“Those big ‘ol pantaloons they wore over the tights would.” It reminds you of a Shakespeare show you saw once, and the idea of Max back in that time scraping out thees and thous makes you giggle. “Maybe I’ll get the hang of this time traveling stuff and we’ll be time tourists. Who knows?”

He hums, knowing that you both can be time travelers in your own time as well, watching history unfold as you both remain ageless.

Max helps you out of your skirt, letting you shed all those extra pounds of beading and embroidery for a little while before you have to put on something suitable for Mrs. Astor. You have very little idea of what Renée packed but you’ll manage, just enjoying the freedom of lighter layers for now. Petticoats and a bustle don’t weigh too much, you’ve been surprised to find.

“Better?” Max loves the sight of you in the undergarments of the time, honestly playing into the time period movies that he had watched when he was younger. Sometimes hoping to get laid, but that one – Pride and Prejudice – that was just a guilty pleasure.

“It’s so hard to move in the full dresses.” Which is why you’re wiggling happily and stretching everywhere now that you have a little freedom. “At least we didn’t come back to the age of six-foot crinolines. You wouldn’t be able to get near me at all.”

“I don’t know what that is, but a crinoline sounds horrible.” He gives you a mock look of horror. “Don’t sent us there.”

“I promise.” He gets the giggle out of you that he was hoping for, and you turn to lean against him because you still have the bustle underneath your petticoats tied in place so you can’t just back up into his arms.

“How come the history books never talk about how dirty traveling is?” Max snorts, knowing that both of you need a bath.

“Because no one wants to read about horse shit and dust everywhere.” You laugh along with him. “I wish I had time for a bath but apparently travel by horse-drawn carriage takes foreeeeever.”

“You want to get clean, baby doll?” Max smirks. “I can clean you up real quick.”

“Speed bath?” You raise one eyebrow at him.

He chuckles. “Perks of moving fast, sweetums.” He had overheard the nickname on the dining car last night and had fallen in love with it, to tease you with, of course.

When you roll your eyes it’s entirely joking, but you cross your arms appraisingly and smirk. “Alright. Go for it.”

“Done, baby doll.” He snaps his fingers as if he were a magician, drawing your eyes away from the trick before he begins to move quickly.

When he wants to be, Max is a whirlwind. Before you know it your petticoats are strewn around the room and your corset seems to disappear in a flash, along with your chemise and stockings, all while you barely feel him touch you. The tornado of movement carries you so easily to the bathroom and within minutes you’re scrubbed clean and dry again.

When he stops moving, it’s obvious that Max has also cleaned up while taking care of your quick wash. Grinning and not even breathless as he eyes you. “Believe me now?”

“Baby,” you smirk, the expression rolling over your features with glee. “I never doubted you. I just wanted to see you show off.”

“Good.” He winks at you and shrugs. “Now you are all clean and can enjoy your visit with Mrs. Astor.”

“Wish me luck?” Walking over to the set of buttons built into the carved wood detailing of the guest room, you press the one marked to connect to you maid and sigh. You are definitely going to need Renee’s help picking out a dress.

“Of course.” Max snaps his fingers again. “I could come with you.” He offers with a coy grin.

“I don’t think the Mrs. Astor would take kindly to a bat in her house.” Though you grin broadly at the idea.

“I would make a fashionable hat accessory.” He huffs, miffed that you might deny him the opportunity.

“If you think you can hold still for an entire tea visit, I’ll take you with me.” It’s sweet of him to want to come with you, though you know it’s also because he’s an incorrigible gossip.

He tuts because he knows you’ve got him there. There’s no way he wouldn’t ruffle his wings or trill at you in his bat form. “She might like bats.” He grumbles.

“She might.” When he pouts you can’t help but kiss him, and your hand on his chest feels the thrilling thud of a single heartbeat as your lips brush his. “And if she does, I’ll bring you next time. If there ever is a next time.”

“Ooookaaaaayyy.” He rolls his eyes, playing up the pouring before he shrugs. “Tea sucks anyway. Kind of like me.” He jokes, waggling his brows. “Get it?”

“Har har har.” The exaggerated laughing noise makes both of you bust out into giggles just before a knock sounds at the door and Renee enters.

“You rang, Ma’am?” She asks politely, stock still in her own immaculate uniform. No doubt she had already cleaned herself up from the trip.

“I was hoping you might have packed a nice tea dress for the trip, Renee.” Standing in your chemise and robe in the middle of the room is more than a touch unconventional, but so are you. “I’ve had an invitation from Mrs. Astor.”

“Ohhhhhh.” Her eyes widen slightly and she nods eagerly. “I have a beautiful teal tea dress that would be perfect.” She insists.

“Well,” you flash both of them a smile, with Renee zipping right past you to the closet where your and Max’s clothes have been stored. “Here goes nothing.”

******

More than an hour later, after all the fuss of redressing, restyling, saying your polite ‘good afternoon’s to the Vanderbilts, and being bundled in and out of a carriage all on your own to take you a mere twenty minute carriage ride from number 1 West 57th Street to 350 Fifth Avenue. The house is even grander than the old photo on the damn Wikipedia page you’d seen ages ago, and you swallow thickly as you walk up to the door and ring the bell. Somehow you’re just certain Mrs. Astor’s butler will be the most intimidating possible version of that career choice.

Instead of the butler answering the door, Mrs. Astor herself is the one that pulls the door open. She had been sent word that you had accepted her invitation and had been looking out for your carriage to arrive. “Mrs. Phillips!” She beams as she opens the door wider and steps back. “I am so pleased you decided to accept my invitation.”

“It was very kind of you to ask me.” Astonished to find the woman herself standing in the front hall of her house, you falter and damn near curtsy as a footman appears to whisk your gloves and reticule away. The small hat perched on your head — not adorned with a particular bat — stays firmly in place.

“When Alice Vanderbilt told me you were going to be in town, I knew I had to have you to tea.” She slides her arm through yours and notices you craning your neck around to look at the interior. “You and Mr. Phillips will be building homes, correct? Let me give you a tour? We have so many modern conveniences.”

“We haven’t decided where to build yet.” Polite conversation seems the way to go, as Mrs. Astor escorts you around the first floor of the fashionable and enormous brownstone they call home. “We may make our home in Newport year round.”

“I would love to have a permanent home.” She admits easily. “Packing up everything I need from one home to another is so tiring at times.”

“But the summers are not always pleasant here, and winters can be isolating in Newport.” She leads you through the hall to a stunning sitting room and it’s really all you can do not to stare the way you did your very first day at your home in Newport. “There must be some advantages for being able to travel where the weather is nicest?”

“Of course there are. I know that I am very fortunate to be able to escape the intolerant weather.” She knows that she is privileged and is thankful for her children’s sake. “I would love a frolicking bath in the gardens. Or a pool, but William says that it’s too much effort.”

“Max doesn’t particularly care for the beach. I think he would probably love a pool instead.” Although, the thought of him indignantly turning into a bat just to be out in the sunshine to see you in a swimsuit almost makes you giggle.

“Then perhaps you will have an indoor pool?” She suggests. “You can swim no matter the weather outside.”

“Perhaps.” She seems delighted for you at the prospect so you smile. “And if we did, you would certainly be welcome to visit.”

“I would be visiting often.” She admits with a grin as she guides you back towards the parlor where the tea is being laid by one of the footmen.

If you had any intention of staying in this time, it would be an immense compliment. But as it is, you have to take the fact as what it is — if you get stuck here, then Lina Astor is a valuable ally to have. “You will be most welcome, pool or otherwise.”

“You are kind. And that is a refreshing thing to find.” She hums, smiling as she settles you both down on the sofa. “Very refreshing indeed.”

“It was an honor to receive your invitation.” It is, and you’re aware of that, but you’re still wondering why she invited you here other than the fact that you’re staying with the Browns. It’s not as though she knows you’re their granddaughter.

“Then I am happy you accepted.” The footman has disappeared, and Mrs. Astor leans forward to pick up the teapot. “It is not often I find other kindred spirits in my circle.”

“I—I’m sorry?” The comment takes you off guard, and you feel a little like a deer in headlights at the moment.

Her smile turns slightly coy and she tilts her head. “I don’t think that I’m mistaken.” She tells you conversationally. “Another time traveling witch?”

The mistake you made was reaching for the teacup that the footman had set beside you before leaving the room at exactly the moment Mrs. Astor said the words ‘time traveling’. Your hand clatters past the cup and saucer, nearly upending the small table beside you as your eyes grow as wide as dinner plates. “E—excuse—” Oh, Max is going to be so mad he isn’t here for this. “How could you possibly—?”

“Know that you aren’t from this time?” She muses and sets down the tea set to tap her brows. “You must have just waxed your brows before you travelled back.” Her eyes are flashing with intrigue. “What year had you left?”

"I—" It automatically makes you hide your hands, like she could somehow know that you had just taken off your nail polish the day before. "Um...2023..." you murmur, feeling very oddly like you've been caught by the Time Travel Police or something equally insane.

“Ohhhhhh.” She smiles excitedly and leans in. “Tell me about it, please?” There’s a plea in her voice that is barely noticeable under the excitement.

You don’t even know where to begin, swallowing hard and realizing that the conversation might not make any sense – in an insane sort of way – without context. "When...when have you, um...traveled to?" This time you manage to get the teacup firmly into your hands, but you're sure they must be shaking violently as you can't tear your eyes off the prim and proper madam of New York society.

“I think you misunderstand.” Lina shakes her head and reasons that it’s not a logical conclusion. “I was born in 1965. This is the time I travelled to.”

"What?" When you almost drop the delicate teacup all over again, you just shove it back onto the table.

“I would never have believed it myself.” She admits easily, continuing to talk. “However, how do you deny yourself in photographs from decades before you were born?” She asks. “I know some might think there a doppelgängers, historical figures that look like other people in different times, but I believe, like me, they are witches who have travelled to their proper times.”

"Does that mean...that once we travel...that we're stuck?" You ask, eyes widening impossibly yet again. "We go back to our proper time and stay there?" The possibility hadn't occurred to you, but it seems alarmingly real to hear her talk about it.

“Perhaps that it the wrong wording.” Mrs. Astor concedes. “Because I could have chosen to go back, but why would I when my soulmate was in this time?”

"I suppose that would account for the decision." The way your mind seems to be scrambled is the only thing that makes perfect sense at the moment, but shaking your head doesn't seem to set any of your thoughts straight at all – except one. "So there is a way to go back, then?"

She frowns slightly, tilting her head. “You mean you didn’t come here on purpose?” She asks softly, trying to understand why you would travel through time if not for a reason.

"It was an accident," you admit, feeling all the more amateurish for it. "I was trying to cast a protection spell and it...sort of imploded around me. Instead of banishing the person from where my soulmate and I were, it brought him here with us."

“Oh my.” Her eyes widen slightly and she knows there must be more to the story. “Hopefully, that person is no longer a bother to you and your soulmate?”

"No." A fact which has brought you no small amount of relief. "No. He certainly is not." This might be the most insane situation out of all of the insane situations you've ever found yourself in, and you lean forward in your seat unconsciously. "So..if you were born in 1965...do you mind if I ask where you were born? I'm endlessly curious now."

She grins and leans in. “California.”

"This is just...absolutely insane." The shake of your head still doesn't align your thoughts, but at least this time when you laugh in disbelief you don't feel foolish for it. "And you just...saw yourself in a history book?"

“Imagine my surprise.” She snorts and shakes her head. “But I just knew that it was me.”

"And I thought my story was crazy," you huff, exhaling like it's the biggest relief of your life.

“Believe me, there’s few who know my story.” Lina laughs, reaching over and covering your hand with your own. “How do you explain a colored rose tattoo on your pelvic bone to a man who has never even thought of a tattoo?”

“Oh my god.” Barely managing not to snort when you burst out into giggles, you cover your mouth and manage to recompose yourself. “That…that would not be easy,” you admit readily. “Although I guess at least it’s somewhere easily hidden.”

“Yes. William has accepted that I am from a different time, but my maid believes it is a strange birthmark.” She snickers.

“That is a remarkably detailed birthmark, Mrs. Astor,” you snicker softly, shaking your head. “Mine is essentially a blob.”

“Just so.” She agrees. “How are you acquainted with Mr. and Mrs. Brown, really?”

“I suppose it’s a moot point, to ask you to keep my secrets when you’ve already shared yours. We’re in this together.” And what a fucking weird person to even say that to, you think with an internal huff. “They are my grandparents. But only Mr. Brown knows who I really am.”

“Grandparents…how delightful.” She hums as she picks up your cup of tea and hands it back to you. “I expect that it’s easily possible because of your vampiric bloodline, your mother waited to give birth to you?”

“I should not be surprised that you know so much, I suppose?” It’s astonishing to you, but maybe it shouldn’t be. Doesn’t everyone have friends who keep their secrets? Especially within the magical community. “Yes. She did. She waited quite a while.”

“Your grandmother is the leader of her coven in Newport.” She reminds you. “I am the leader of the coven here. William has actually talked to your grandfather about immortality.”

“Really?” Imagining the Astors in the future makes your head spin a little, but how is it any weirder than you coming back to this time? “If you ever find yourself in 2023, come and visit.”

Picking up her own tea, she adds a sugar cube and stirs it. “Your soulmate is immortal? Or just a lucky human? I wasn’t quite able to tell.”

“Max is immortal.” And you almost laugh to yourself, thinking again how much he would love to be here for this. “My grandfather was his sire…either several years ago or it will be many years in the future. Depending on how you look at it.”

“How fascinating it all is.” She wonders, blowing on her tea and taking a small sip. “What a wonderful connection. I hope that your time here is fruitful?”

“I hope so, too.” You admit, blowing out a sigh of your own. “Of course, if I can never figure out how to get us home, our time here will be permanent.”

“Yes,” at the mention of that, Lina straightens. “That is why I asked you to tea. To get to know you, but also inquire if you are well versed in the spells.” She sets her tea down and stands, moving over to the bookcase. “I have all my own spells here, including the one to bring me to my William’s time.”

“I am not particularly well versed in any spells at all.” The idea of an Astor family grimoire piques your interest as you watch her move amongst the shelves, pulling things out quickly in a very particular order until a hidden panel in the wainscoting pops open. Of fucking course Mrs. Astor has a secret compartment for her grimoire. “My magical education came late in life.”

“The perhaps I might give you a copy?” She asks, knowing that you might not have your own family grimoire. If her own could assist you in creating one, she would be delighted.

"Are you serious?" At least the more modern phrase won't sound too foreign to her as you stare at the petite figure of Lina Astor over your teacup. "I—I mean—that would be so incredibly generous of you."

“I will start writing it out immediately.” She promises as she brings the leather-bound book over to the sofa. “By the time of your grandmother’s ball, it will be in your hands.”

"Then I suppose we're here until at least Samhain." A few weeks in 1885 won't do you any harm, but it makes your smile flicker slightly at the thought of missing your own Samhain ball. It makes you wonder how Allison and Eddie are doing – what they're doing – and if Yayo has even explained what's going on.

“Delightful.” She winks at you, even as she speaks properly. “You and I will have to have tea again then. I will call on you?”

"Any time." In the back of your mind you vaguely recall that the appropriate length of a social call in this time period is something absurd like fifteen minutes, and you figure that period must be up. "We're staying with the Cornelius Vanderbilts until Friday, then returning to Newport."

Nodding, she understands your reasoning and bites her lip. “I will be attending the opera tomorrow night, will you be attending as well?”

"My grandparents were kind enough to let us use their box." An actual box at the opera sounded like a beautiful night to you and Annie had been over the moon to bring Emmanuel to the Academy of Music. "My soulmate has never been to an opera before, so we should be in for a fun night."

“Then I will see you at intermission.” Lina decides with a warm smile. “I have to admit that I am very glad you came to tea. It had been a long time since I have talked about…things.”

"I'm glad I wasn't too nervous to accept." Standing from the sofa, you have just enough time to compose yourself before a footman steps up to the drawing room door. You can see your gloves and reticule lying on the table in the foyer and you know that that's your signal. "Thank you for having me, Mrs. Astor. I look forward to seeing you again."

“Call me Lina.” She demands softly, setting the book down and leaning in to give you a quick hug. “We are sisters after all.”

"I will see you tomorrow night, Lina." You squeeze her back gently before striding from the room and accepting your things from the footman with a smile. Whatever you had expected this visit to be, it was nothing like that at all, and you're all the more glad for it as you get into the carriage.

As soon as the door closes, the bat that had been sitting up on top of the curtain flutters down and lands in your lap, squawking.

"Well, hey Cutie pie. I know you." It's all you can do not to burst out into giggles, but you scoop Bat Max up in both hands and let him snuggle into your chest as the carriage lurches and starts off down the street to take you back to the Vanderbilt's house. "You're never going to believe the visit I just had," you tell him honestly, blowing out a deep sigh.

Max turns his head and practically sticks it down your bodice, thankful that the tea dress is lower cut than your traveling dress. Flapping his wings and squeaking in response to you.

"If you wanted to grope me, you could do it in human form," you snort, giggling at the little bat's antics. "So it turns out..." you cuddle your soulmate's animal form as the carriage bumps and jostles along the road, hand wrapped around his small body to keep him safe against you. "The legendary Mrs. Lina Astor? Is a witch."

Snuggled happily between your breasts, Max trills, hating that he has to pull away, but he can’t transform in your dress. “What?!?” He demands as soon as he is very much in a human form again, eyes bugged out in surprise.

“I swear on every god I can think of,” you promise, holding your hand up like it’s some kind of solemn oath. “But it gets crazier. She’s a fucking time traveler, too!”

“Bullshit.” Max huffs, not thinking you are a liar, but who can that be?

“I swear!” The way you practically double over cackling — or you would have doubled over if not for the corset — tells him how dead serious you are. “She was born in 1965. Saw herself in history books and knew she had to come back.”

“Isn’t that a mind fuck?” Max’s eyes widen. “One of the most historical female figures in America is a time traveler.”

“She’s going to make me a copy of her grimoire,” you murmur, voice full of awe as you lean into your soulmate’s side. “I can’t fucking believe I found another time traveler. And by accident!”

“It seems as if she recognizes something about you.” He worries about that slightly, but with Mrs. Astor as an ally, it would smooth a lot of issues for you should they arise.

“She noticed my eyebrows.” It’s such a stupid detail to you that it’s laughable, but it’s completely on point when you look at it. The fact that you had gone to the salon with Allison just the day before everything happened is what made your appearance stick out to a woman who actually knew what eyebrow waxing was. “She said she’d help me. So I can get us back safely. But…the copy of her grimoire won’t be ready until Samhain. So it looks like we have two more weeks in 1885.”

“I won’t mind that.” Max admits with an easy grin. “Although you might.” He snorts, lifting a brow. “You start your period in two weeks.”

“Pain killers in this time have cocaine and heroine. I am not taking a damn thing.” You’re not surprised at all that your blood drinking soulmate with a superhuman sense of smell already knows your cycle, so you just bypass that face completely. “I will be begging for hot chocolate, though.”

“All the hot chocolate you can drink.” He promises with a smirk. “I think your mother likes my hot chocolate too.”

“She does.” And of course he’s smug about that. He deserves to be. “But you can’t cave and give her the recipe. She used to make me Swiss Miss when I was a kid.”

“Oh no.” He huffs. “This is my secret recipe.” He insists. “You only get that when you’ve been married to me for a hundred years.”

"Real married or pretend married?" You tease, grinning as you snuggle deeper into his side.

“Real.” He snorts. “Have to make sure you’re with me for me and not my hot chocolate.” He teases. “Although, before I forget….do you want to dance tonight?”

"I'd love to." Your hand slips gently into his, fingers threading together, and you squeeze his hand in yours. With your head on his shoulder at the carriage bumps along the road, this is pretty damn close to bliss.

“Good.” Max’s fingers caress your palm. “I hired a little band of musicians to play for us after Alice said I could use the ballroom tonight.”

"You hired a band?" Reeling back to look him in the eye, your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline in surprise. "What's the occasion? Did I not know it was your birthday or something?"

“No.” If he was still living, his cheeks would be scorching hot, but he does look a little embarrassed. “Since it’s…since you want to…” he waggles his brows suggestively in an endearing immature way. “I wanted to make it special. A night you wouldn’t forget.” He also wants to show you that you deserve some to put in the effort for you.

"Honey..." Your gasp, you have realized since being with someone who doesn't need to breathe, is so uniquely human. He might be looking slightly embarrassed, but your jaw is on the floor of the carriage and tears have sprung up into your eyes as you stare at him. "You—really?" It's so far outside of the realm of what you could ever have expected that you don't even know what to say. "For...me?"

“Was it dumb?” He had been sure that you would love it. “It’s dumb. I should have asked, right?” He panics and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Dolly, I just wanted to make it special.”

"Max." Tugging on his hand slightly makes him look at you, and you shake your head fiercely even as you reach up with your free hand to touch his cheek. "That is the sweetest, most thoughtful, most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me and if we weren't already engaged I'd been asking you to marry me right here in this carriage." The watery shine in your eyes is nothing less than pure happiness and pride, and you lean forward to kiss him with soft surety. "In fact, I'm prepared to say fuck it and get married right here in 1885, just so I can proudly call you my husband for real."

He stares into your eyes for a moment, the unease fading and he bites his lip. “I just wanted you to feel special.” He admits quietly. “You are special. And I want you to believe it.”

"My whole adult life, no one has ever believed in me or loved me the way you have." It's somehow simultaneously exhilarating and humbling, the magnitude to which Max's love is worn entirely on his sleeve. It's obvious, not just evident, and you never thought that you were worth someone's entire devotion the way Max has given every ounce of himself over to loving you. "I hope I give back even half of what you do. And I'm glad we have literally all the time in the world for me to learn to love you exactly as well as you love me. Because you're special too, sweetheart."

“Of course I am.” He flashes you a smirk that is pure bravado, and more than a little facade, but he won’t argue with you. It would be pointless when you would say you weren’t worth it to him.

"I just never want you to doubt it, that's all." Max deals with his insecurities in very different ways than you do. You know that. So instead of huffing at him or rolling your eyes or anything of that sort, you just smile and kiss the corner of his mouth again.

“I knew I should have gone with you.” Max pouts, but he knows his presence might have derailed the conversation.

"Today will hardly be the last that we hear or see of Lina Astor," you remind him with a grin. "She might even pop up to 2023 to see us sometime."

“That would be pretty fucking cool.” Max muses. “Her husband has certainly made enough money to support them.”

"I don't know if he's ever actually time traveled with her, but it would be pretty fun if they popped into the future to visit." The two of you lean back again in the carriage, resting against each other's sides as it pulls around the corner of the avenue. "Can you imagine throwing a ball in 2023 and having an Astor show up?"

“No one would know who they were.” Max points out. “They could move through the time in complete anonymity.”

"Unless we find the one person who is like...an Astor family historian or something." That person must exist, you're sure of it. But thankfully, you definitely don't know them. Although if you did? That would be an interesting introduction. "You do know that if I get my time traveling down as well as hers, we could do that, too?"

“Has she travelled to other times as well?” He asks, confused as he wonders. Could that explain why the Astors had a golden touch in business?

"Visits are so short here that I didn't really have time to ask," you admit sheepishly. "But I offered for her to come and visit us in our time and she didn't immediately shut me down or anything, so I have to think it's possible. It's magic not like...a wormhole or a tear in the space-time continuum, right? So theoretically a witch who can master it should be able to pick their destination just like Marty McFly plugging a date into the Delorian."

“Do they make it in a broom model?” Max jokes, chuckling at his own humor when you roll your eyes. “It’s funny and you know it.”

“I’m getting a bumper sticker for abuela’s fancy car when we get home,” you inform him, laughing under your breath at your own bad joke. “My Other Ride Is a Broom.”

“You would not put a sticker on that car.” Max is horrified in a decidedly male way about that, his eyes wide and anguished. “My car’s probably been towed off, or stolen.”

“I’m sure Yayo had it picked up. After all— he knows where we are.” The carriage rolls to a stop and you stretch as much as your dress allows. “Home sweet temporary home.”

“What a temporary home it is.” Max snorts, admiring the grandeur of the facade. “I could see having a gothic style architecture if we were here permanently. Play up the spooky vibes.”

“Maybe we should build a house anyway,” you joke with a grin. “Come and go as we like once I figure out how to get us back and forth.”

“Which house in history has an ambiguous past?” Max asks, lifting a brow curiously.

“There’s a lot of them.” Off the top of your head there’s things like Boldt Castle in New York and the Winchester Mystery House. “And I bet Yayo would take care of it for us.”

“Hmmmm.” Max is thoughtful a moment before he shrugs one shoulder. “Perhaps it’s one of ours.” He tells you. “Stranger things have happened.”

“Maybe we’ll get back and Mrs. Taylor will hand us an extra set of keys.” The thought makes you grin, and the carriage jostles just as one is the Vanderbilt’s footmen comes out to open the door and lend you a hand. What seemed unnecessary and dramatic in period films now makes perfect sense. If you didn’t have help getting out of this carriage you’d never be able to find the sidewalk for all the dress you have to wear.

Max managed to turn into a bat before the footman opened the door. That way he will not cause any questions amongst the staff about how he wasn’t with you and then he was. Luckily for stealth, the dips and flounces hide your bat-ified soulmate from sight and you just climb the steps into the house neatly after saying thank you to the footman without anyone being any wiser.

Max smirks a batty little smirk and clings to the folds of your outfit, enjoying being carried into the house with no one the wiser.

******

When Mrs. Vanderbilt also falls in love with an idea, she isn’t one to sit on it. Max asking for the ballroom to dance with his bride sounded like the most thoughtful and romantic thing that she had ever heard of. She had pointed him in the direction of a small orchestra, and had personally gone to the kitchen to have the idea of a dinner for two planned out with the cook with a footman assigned to serve the quiet meal.

There were flowers everywhere. She must have sent Renee out to purchase every flower from every corner within a ten block radius. Bouquets of them set around a small garden table that has been laid out for two, a champagne bucket beside it. The candles and glass lanterns low enough to give the enormous room a romantic, intimate glow. You had been hustled through another bath, a fresh ball gown that had to come from somewhere, although you don’t remember seeing it amongst your purchases even though it is vaguely familiar, and some of Alice’s own jewels around your neck when you are escorted into the room to find Max waiting for you. His own bath done and his tailored tuxedo making him look every inch the dashing, handsome vampire that he is.

“This is a lot more than just dancing…” you gasp, one gloved hand going straight to your heart as you look around. The Vanderbilt’s expansive ballroom looks like it has been taken over by a fairy kingdom with the way it overflows with blossoms, and you look to Max in awe. “It’s stunning, love. You’re… you’ve…” There really aren’t words for the way your heart swells in your chest, and you walk over to him with sure steps to wrap your arms around him. “My soulmate is the sweetest man in the whole world,” you murmur against his chest.

“I didn’t do all this.” Max admits with a shake of his head. “I just mentioned that I wanted it to be special.”

“No?” You pull back from him, incredulous, and look around then down at yourself. “This dress?”

“Well…” he shrugs. “I asked Alice if there is a dress that was suitable for a night of dancing.”

“So I need to write Alice the world’s best thank you note for hosting us. That’s what you’re saying?” Looking at the pair of you together in the nearby mirrored wall paneling, though, your eyes widen in recognition. “I know this dress!” You realize just a second later.

“Really?” Max frowns for a moment and tilts his head. “From where?”

“From the attic.” Your eyes are wide when you look back at him and you practically giggle. “The day that we all dressed up and went to the mansion?” It seems like years and years ago that you were first getting to know the girls in the Newport coven, and the pang of missing them hits deeply. “Allison wore this.”

“How interesting.” He guides you over to the table and pulls out a chair for you to sit down.

"I guess it goes to show that this was supposed to happen?" When he sits down across from you, the two of you exchange a shared, soft smile. "Maybe we shouldn't be surprised anymore? Since life has thrown us so many curveballs already."

“It’s been nothing but adventure since you’ve arrived.” Max admits with a chuckle. “But I’ve enjoyed the ride. How about you?”

"I wouldn't change a single thing." And you really wouldn't. Even the parts filled with uncertainty or fear have brought you closer together, but more than anything he has given you strength and confidence that you never had before. Loving Max has made you a better person, inside and out. "And I'm very excited for every adventure that is still to come."

Smirking proudly, Max takes the bottle of champagne from the bucket and looks at it and then at you. “Sweetheart….do you want me to have this taken away?” He asks softly. “I don’t think Alice knew.”

"If you want to have some, it's okay." He likely won't, having insisted since the day he found out why you don't drink that he will abstain right along with you. But it's also not like this meal will hold much interest for him considering his preferred diet, so you give him the choice.

The bottle goes back in the bucket and he shakes his head. “I’m good.” He knows that you wouldn’t want any, but he always wants to continue to make sure that you know that if you want to have some again, you have that option.

The footman, confused by the turn of phrase, seems to understand that champagne will not be necessary and steps forward to remove the ice bucket and its contents. “I’ll let Alice know that we don’t drink alcohol when I thank her for tonight,” you tell Max. “It’s…all of this is absolutely beautiful.”

“Whatever you want to tell her, baby.” Max from before would offer advice, but he has learned that you just want to explain and not have your feelings or ideas overruled. “Tonight is about you and I want it to be perfect.”

"Tonight is about us." It's about growing closer and about this last, large step forward. You can't be sure if it's taken longer than you thought or far less time than you would have imagined, but having now spent enough nights actually sleeping with Max along with getting to know him, the time for euphemistic sleeping together feels exciting.

He might not feel that way, but he doesn’t argue. Knowing that it’s important for you that he also be included. His soulmate is actually very considerate and he is grateful for that. “Do you want to eat before we dance?” He asks with a grin. “Or work up an appetite?”

"I would hate to interrupt the chef's schedule." According to your abuela, meals in this time are a well-orchestrated dance all in their own right, and you look to the footman for any kind of confirmation or denial of a firm schedule existing. "Might we have time for a turn or two before the meal begins?"

The man smiles at the question, thinking briefly, and almost bows to you with his deep nod. "I will make sure of it, Mrs. Phillips. Please, enjoy yourselves," he says before excusing himself.

The tails of the tuxedo are something that Max believes should still be around in his own time, flicking them out as he stands and glides around the table. “Will you waltz with me, Mrs. Phillips?” He asks, bowing as any gentleman of the time would. Your Yayo had spent time to make sure that Max fit in and did not make any social blunders.

"Mr. Phillips, I would be delighted." You're both up and out of your chairs again, and the leader of the small band that has been hired takes Max's cue to strike up a lively but simple waltz. The man clearly took working up an appetite literally, and you have to smile as Max puts one hand around your waist and draws you in close – a perfect ballroom frame supporting both of you in place before he leads you into the dance.

Like every time Max has danced with you, he is struck by how seamless it is. It’s as if you and he become one at that moment and move in perfect coordinated unison. There’s not a split second’s hesitation, no faltering. Working easily as if you had been partners for a lifetime, which one day will be true.

The swells in the music become dips and turns, the swaying of your frame in Max's keeping you in time and making sure no feet ever get stepped on. The movement is smooth as silk and completely entrancing, although you know that some of your favourite moves are impossible in a gown this large. All that matters is that you and Max stay connected, moving together with fluidity and grace. Sometimes it feels like the happiest you've ever been are these moments dancing with Max, and you wonder if tonight might somehow equal that or make it feel even more magical than it already does.

The mood is already romantic, the music and the dance coupled with the lighting and what both of you know is to come. It’s fairy tale quality and still Max wishes for more. Wanting you to remember tonight forever, looking back at the moment that you truly became his and he became yours. For all his easy flirtations and past liaisons, he wants to continue to romance his soulmate, for everyday to be an opportunity for you to fall more in love with him.

"You're thinking awfully hard about something," you murmur when he pulls you back to his chest after a turn. His expression of concentration is so easy to pick out, and always makes you want to smooth your thumb over his forehead to soothe the creases away.

“Thinking about you.” He admits easily. “How you deserve so much more. How special you are.” He knows you will protest, but he will just have to dance with you more.

"The perfect example of why we're soulmates." Humming softly, you squeeze his shoulder with your off hand and offer him a soft smile. "We think the world of each other and nothing of ourselves." He has masked it with bravado for pretty much his entire life, but when it comes down to it, he has just as many issues with how he perceives himself as you do. "I love you, Max. Completely. You're the most special thing in the world to me, so if I'm as special as you say we're a hell of a team."

The words are the soft, sweet ones that he has craved his entire life and he savors them. Tucking you against his body and closing his eyes. “We are a hell of a team.” He insists. “Now we just need to find out what dancing between the sheets looks like for us.”

He manages to say it quietly enough that it doesn't echo across the ballroom, keeping it for your ears only, and you giggle with soft delight. You're actually excited for this, which isn't something that you were sure you would ever feel again. "I think it'll be very rhythmic," you tease.

He chuckles and nods. “A steady, continuous rhythm.” He promises. Unlike any previous lovers, Max doesn’t get tired. Any changes in the pace would be because he fumbles or he wants to change, not because he’s unable to keep it up.

"Mr. Phillips, I think that counts as scandalous," you hum, fanning yourself with your own hand dramatically and wishing that just this once you actually had one of those fancy hand fans to tease him with.

"You would faint in shock at all the scandalous things that I would do to you, Dolly." Max snorts playfully, sending you a hot look as he dips you low and presses his face into your breasts before slowly dragging you upright again.

“Maybe I would.” Considering there is an entire group of strangers in the room, you demure a little even though you’re shivering with anticipation on the inside. “Perhaps I am terribly proper and ladylike and this is where I’ve belonged all along.”

“I can see that.” He growls, flashing his fangs at you playfully for a split second. “And I am the wicked vampire ready to defile you.”

When you giggle and have to smother a snort, it’s because you’re sure that anyone overhearing this would assume you were really into sexy role playing or at least fantasy foreplay. When the fact is, it’s just who you are. A little silly, a lot romantic, and entirely devoted to making each other happy.

Around the room, your skirts swish and sway as he leads you. Speeding up and then slowing down along with the music. His eyes always on you as he twirls you around the dance floor. Aware that some of the Vanderbilt staff have peeked in, but it doesn't bother him, never minding an audience.

They're peaking in from around the corner screen and through the pocket doors at the end of the room, and you're dimly aware of their presence without ever minding it for a single second. Renee is probably with them, which makes you smile, and you hope she is enjoying the attention of fielding all sorts of questions about Miss Brown's mysterious new friends.

Max spins you again, taking this as seriously as any dance competition. He’s not expecting perfection but it seems that together, you move flawlessly. Making him proud of your abilities and he beams as he pulls you close again.

When the song draws to a close, Max holds you close to his chest instead of going for some dramatic end pose, letting the last strains of music fade away with you held fast to him as your heart beats wildly out of time. After a moment you become dimly aware of a soft clapping and glance over at the band, all of whom are politely applauding your performance. Your cheeks burn hot instantly and you laugh, but curtsy. It must not be often that they get a private show like this.

Max grins, proud of you and his movement shows it as he guides you back to the table for the first course. “My little ballroom dancer.” He coos softly. “So perfect.”

“I’m just following your lead, love,” you remind him softly. There is nothing but pure love in your eyes.

“Nothing I love more than to lead you around the dance floor, and hopefully something more tonight.” He smirks slightly and helps you sit down.

“I think we’ve moved past hope and into certainty.” As you sit down you give his hand a squeeze. You’re ready. Completely ready.

“Never want you to feel like you can’t end things immediately.” Max sits down and he immediately reaches for your hand.

“I know.” And you appreciate it more than you can say. “But I don’t think that will be the case.” If you’re honest, you’ve started to crave the closeness of him, so tonight is exactly what you want.

“I guarantee it won’t.” He winks at you playfully. “But I do want my wife to tell me exactly what she expects of her husband.”

“I promise.” And you will. Just…not where an army of servants can overhear every detail. That conversation is reserved for when you’re actually alone.

He can see the way your eyes flicker to the staff and he hums. “As you wish, Queenie.”

Dinner is gorgeous. An intricate dance all its own, executed with a precision that you really have to admire. Alice’s staff is amazing and the food is to die for. The band plays several more lovely songs for you, and you and Max dance well into the night. When you finally thank them for their time and go upstairs for the evening, you feel like you’re floating on air.

Max marvels at how warm and soft your hand is in his. Waiting for you to start sweating or even get slightly clammy from nerves, but you never do. Just soft sighs of happiness and beguiling smiles as you look over at him. "Tired, sweetheart?"

"Not at all." You've said goodnight to Renee and to Emmanuel's valet already, telling them you don't need help getting ready to sleep tonight, and that leaves just you and Max alone in your room together with a fire to keep you warm. "I do want to go to bed, though."

______

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[seriouslysam8]

Sam, can you give us a sneak peek (Brumous or Alew)? Pretty please, we're starving here

Alew

Chapter Six: Walburga

Arriving at Grimmauld Place, Sirius pounded his fist against the wood. The door swung open a few moments later and Sirius came face-to-face with his mother. A small smirk graced her face as though she got exactly what she wanted… like bloody always. Sirius pushed his way into the foyer, his body twitching as all the anxiety left his body and was replaced with a barely controlled rage that he hadn’t felt since he was sixteen and bolted from this very house.

Sirius wheeled around to look at his mother. “What do you think you are doing?” he seethed.

Walburga arched an eyebrow at him. “I find it highly unacceptable that I have to accost your fiancé if I wish to speak with you.”

“Did you ever stop to think that I didn’t want to speak with you?” Sirius hissed, his wide eyes staring unblinkingly at her.

“You are not a child anymore, Sirius,” Walburga said, making her way past Sirius towards the parlor. “It would befit you to act your age.”

Sirius’ chest heaved as his body jerked to follow her. “Act my age? Are you fucking serious?” he seethed. “I fought in a bloody war! I adopted my orphaned godson! I buried my two best friends!”

Walburga took a seat in the large plush armchair, grabbing her teacup from the end table. “Yet, you cannot return a letter?”

Sirius sighed, his jaw clenching. “Just tell me what you want.”

“I want you to act like a Black,” Walburga said as though that had been blatantly clear from the very beginning.

“I’m having a daughter,” Sirius replied in a dry tone. “So whatever heir bullshit you thought you could orchestrate can stop right now.”

Walburga slammed her teacup down onto the table, liquid sloshing over the side. “For someone so intelligent, you can somehow also be surprisingly obtuse,” she snapped as she rose to her full height. “I have carried this family on my back for more years than I can count because your father and grandfather were too busy comparing cock sizes with all the other pureblood neanderthals. It has been the women who have made or crumbled families. So do not stand there and presume that you know everything. Your arrogance knows no bounds. Just like a typical wizard.”

Sirius stood there, his chest heaving. He hadn’t considered for a second that Walburga would be more interested in a female Black. That had been completely moronic of him. Thoughts of Walburga grooming Bellatrix into the perfect little carbon copy of herself flashed to the forefront of his mind.

“If you think I’m going to allow you to rip every shred of humanity from my daughter in the same way you did to Bella, then you are more delusional than I thought,” Sirius whispered in a dangerously low voice.

Walburga took a step closer to him, her eyes flashing. “You have no idea the opportunities and prestige that lay at your feet, that lay at your daughter’s feet. You are going to throw it all away for what? To attempt to teach me a lesson? To prove you’re nothing like the family that built you? You have had opportunity and an abundance of wealth handed to you your entire privileged life. Yet, you are an ungrateful and infuriating bête noire. I will not allow you to destroy this family because you want to continue down this reckless and rebellious path.”

Sirius’ low jaw jutted. “I don’t care what happens to this family. I don’t want any part of it.”

“If you want no part of this family, then why don’t you sign over Alphard’s cottage back to this family? Why don’t you return your sizable inheritance? If you truly do not want anything to do with this family, then stop living off of us. Truly go off on your own and denounce us.”

[totkdaily]

Day 49: Hateno School, Secrets, and History

In the morning, I report back to Sophie. She says Cece loves the plain, slow life here. She thinks Cece and Reede want the same things. I should speak to him. 

On the way to the inn I speak with Leop. He and his son-in-law Worten like things simple, but his daughter Prima loves Cece. This thing really is tearing families apart.

Worten and Prima run the inn. Prima's nagging him to wear a Cece hat, so he's hiding on the veranda. 

I find Hateno's Goddess statue and grab stamina to make two even circles. I should probably collect some hearts next time. 

At the Mayor's House I chat to Clavia, his wife. Reede's got a secret shed and she wants to know why. He goes in at midday, apparently. 

I wonder if the nearby wells would get me under the shed, but then I see Reede's daughter heading to the school and I decide I'd like to see it.

It's a beautifully cheerful building, one of Hudson's I think.

Symin is advertising for teachers on the board outside! Is he here? 

Symin! 

As good as it is to see old friends, I don't enjoy having to tell yet another person that I came back without Zelda. 

He says the Princess built this school.

There's a notebook upstairs with evaluations - Symin's addressed them to Zelda. 

Aster, Medda's daughter. Active, loves her father, likes tomatoes, optimistic. 

Karin, the mayor's daughter. Kind but shy, not confident but perceptive. Loves maths and helping her father, may one day be a scholar. 

Azu, Ivee's brother, Amira's son. AKA A-Zoom, hero. Used to be best friends with Sefaro but Sefaro is now busy at the dye shop. 

Sefaro, Sayge's son. Firebrand, but bright. Reads adult books and about the Calamity. 

They sound like a great group of kids.

Symin writes that he had some kind of premonition before the Upheaval - he felt it before the Calamity also. He hopes the Princess will be safe with me at her side. 

Well. That didn't work. I failed. 

I sit in on Symin's Calamity lesson. He reminds me that there was another Princess and another Swordsman 10,000 years ago, with a Sword that Seals the Darkness. 

It sets me to thinking. How long ago were the Zonai, exactly? Was that Zelda, the Princess from 10,000 years ago? In which case, who exactly was the hero? 

The kids don't even believe the story. I nip back to Kakariko for a picture of the screen they have that depicts those events. 

I should know my history better. Symin says the 10,000 years ago Calamity involved the Sheikah and the Divine Beasts. Zelda's gone even further back than that... but even then, there was a Princess, a Sword, and an Ancient Hero. 

It's so strange to be standing here as Symin recounts the events of our Calamity. The loss of the Champions, Zelda's power, my healing sleep… 

Azu wants to be like the ancient hero - he's even wearing green. 

The next lesson is home economics. What does Goron spice, Hylian rice and monster extract make? The kids don't believe you can eat monster extract. Kilton's the only guy I know who sells it, and he said he was going to Tarrey Town… Maybe I should head over that way once I'm finished here and fetch some, so the kids can give it a try. 

Now, Reede's secret shed. The tunnels under the wells are incredibly convoluted - but if there's a bubbulfrog, I can't find it. I do, however, manage to ascend into Reede's shed and read his journal. 

He's trying to breed a new pumpkin. Him and Nack are working on a Cece-inspired pumpkin to appeal to the youth.

I go and speak to Reede, and it seems that the new pumpkin is only half of his plan. The other half is to bring back an old taste that his grandfather collaborated on… is he talking about cheese? Because I already helped Koyin make cheese, days ago. I give him the sample Koyin gave me. He gives me 100 rupees for it, to be fair. 

I catch Clavia on her way to bed and tell her about the secret pumpkin - she gives me some tomatoes in return. 

Speaking of Koyin… I don't think she was wearing a Cece hat. I climb the hill and give her and her dad mushrooms. Dantz reminds me of his need for acorns, so I head into the forest for some squirrel hunting. It takes me the night to find one.

[writingforfishes]

Otto and Atticus Chronicles 4: The Hiatus

It is after 3am on my side of the world and when I came home from work I wrote out over 4,000 words, I guess.

This fiction is actually SFW.

I know in my own experience of having a kink I will go through phases where I simply don't feel ar0used by it. At some points in my life I think that I've lost it completely. But it always comes back. Atticus goes through the same states, I've decided. They call that state their 'hiatus'. So that gave me permission to write a story that was not about being turned on by hiccups but, instead, just about Otto getting hiccups and Atticus being a Good Partner.

This story has some hurt/comfort elements in it. Mainly Otto is stressed out and hyperfocused on his clock repair as there is a seasonal rush and Atticus makes sure our boy is taken care of and loved. In turn, Atticus also practices self-care and self awareness.

Oh, and there is also loads of hiccups. Just from a different perspective than normal.

Also, is it normal to develop secondary characters as much as I do for kink fiction? Cause this world is growing...

***

Otto usually didn’t have movements set up like this in the house on test stands. He used the shed in the back yard to test movements, especially the ones with pendulums. He didn’t like to do it on the work bench in the house because there was a possibility that it would get bumped. But it was spring and usually around this time of the year Otto experienced a rush in business. People were cleaning out their homes or their parents/grandparents homes and finding old clocks that hadn’t seen services for decades and suddenly wanted them working again to have a piece of their loved one with them.

He had a few watches in drawers as well that were waiting for service. And then there were the regular customers that still filled the quota for maintenance. All in all, this week had been hectic. He’d been to four home visits for tall clocks and grandfather clocks already and it was only Wednesday.

Fortunately he didn’t have any home visits scheduled for today and he wasn’t planning to, not with how enthusiastic his diaphragm had decided to be. Luckily, thanks to Atticus’ insights on the pattern when his recurring hiccup days happened, he had known this was a possibility.

He ate later than usual last night and it was a spicier meal than average. When Atticus had mentioned the possibility of hiccups being the consequence of his indulgence Otto took note and popped a couple of antacids before bed.

While it hadn’t prevented the hiccups he had to admit that they weren’t as strong or violent as his past experiences with day-long recurring hiccups had been. He hadn’t even seen reason to try and cure them. And, at times, he completely forgot they were there until he found himself taking a breath, gulping, or startling himself with a HUCK when his mouth had been open.

They had started coming a little more rapidly though, and he wasn’t sure exactly why. But he was so focused on at least finishing one more movement before taking a break that he ignored the body jolts and worked through the clusters of hiccups that piled one on top of the other to get just one more thing done.

He leaned forward into the current clock movement, a Seth Thomas regulator, and pulled down the eye loupe attached to his glasses to get a better look at the escapement. He paused as a cluster of three hiccups hit him causing him to bounce and his hand to unsteady. He sighed and swallowed down some slower hiccups as he inspected the built up oil around the pivots and in the teeth of the gears.

A lot of clock makers were enthusiastic about taking apart movements and cleaning them. But if the oil buildup wasn’t too bad and it was working pretty well once it was in beat Otto would rather leave the movement as it was and clean what he saw.

He was deciding whether or not this particular movement was going to need an ultrasonic bath when he heard the stairs creak behind him, the light thumping of bare feet tapping through the living room and into the kitchen, and the sound of a mug hitting softly on the counter.

Normally Otto would have excitedly met with his partner to show his hiccups and spend an intimate moment together but 1) he still had so much work to catch up on that he was nervous to lose any time that he could use getting through his list of repairs and 2) Atticus was in what they liked to call a ‘haitus’ from experiencing arousal from hiccups.

When Atty first experienced the phenomenon Otto had been worried his partner going to find his hiccups obtrusive and annoying. But they reassured them that even when their arousal level was low Otto and his hiccups were adorable and charming. Otto had been relieved, but they’d never had the hiccups while Atticus wasn’t aroused by them. In a way they were thankful timelines lined up to be a benefit to his catching up with work. But he was also curious as to whether Atticus really would find his hiccups as endearing as they claimed they would.

“Huh-huck’m!” Otto murmured as he looked closer at the escapement gear. He might have to bend some of those teeth back into place. Another cluster of hiccups hit him, “huck!hmp!mk!hmk!uck!--Jeez!”

“Have you had them all morning?” a voice said from behind him.

Otto jumped, eyes wide, and looked around at the sudden appearance of his partner. They had gotten their hair cut recently, sides shaved and curls tousled on top and touching their forehead. They stood behind him calmly with a mug that said ‘Life’s a bitch and then you die,’ in simple font on the front. Atticus continued to amaze Otto with their ability to seemingly transport right behind him in an instance.

“Holy shhic!t, you sc-scared the huck’m crap out of me!” Otto exclaimed, clutching his chest. He muffled a few more hiccups that piled in with the excitement.

“But not the...hiccups, apparently,” Atticus replied and took a bemused sip from their mug.

It was always a little endearing how much trouble Atticus sometimes had saying the word ‘hiccup’ out loud. They avoided it most of the time.

Otto took his glasses off finally as looking at Atticus through them was becoming disorienting. He chuckled a little at the comment, feeling a harder than expected HUCK shake his body and pull in his sternum.

“N-no,” Otto confirmed, rubbing the sensation from his chest as his hiccups continued to settle more on contracting his belly after that big one. Atticus just smiled, no hint of arousal in their expression. “I-hulp! I got them hup!-after breakf-mp!-breakfast. Are you huck!-uh. Hmp!mp! Are you up ear-early?”

“I am not,” Atticus confirmed. “I, in fact, slept in. Late night working on a submission. Did you have breakfast around seven?”

Otto knitted his brows, confused at the question.

“Y-hup!-yeah,” he answered with a nod.

“Sweet boy, it’s one in the afternoon,” Atticus informed him.

“What?” he exclaimed, and looked at his watch. “Oh m-man. Huck! I was suHUP!-supposed to call hmp! Millie back hup!-to s-set mk!-up an appointment for herp!-her grandmother hmp!-clock.”

“Aw, I love Millie!” Atticus said. They came over and put a hand on his shoulders. “I’m sure she’ll understand you getting wrapped up in...wow, how many clocks are you working on?”

“I don’t mk!-don’t wanna talk about it. HUCK!” Otto said, and sighed again. Another volley of hiccups hit him. “Huck!hulp!Uck!Hilp!” and he silently jerked through two more. He felt Atticus’ warm hand rubbing his shoulder as the fit passed.

“Why don’t I fix you a sandwich? You can step away from...whatever this is,” Atticus suggested waving a hand at two stands that were holding up clock movements. One that was set up to be tested and one that he was currently working on.

Atticus had felt his neck tense as more hiccups rippled through his slouched form. They’d winced at the fastness of his hiccups. Usually they would feel turned on but now they just felt sympathy. They felt a higgup bounce in his shoulders before he sighed and rubbed his eyes roughly.

“I jhuck!-just have so hmp!-much to do! I’m behimp!-behind hip!-and I n-need to hmp!-call Millie. Damn! Wh-where did the hup!-time go?” he lamented, throwing a worried look up at Atticus.

“I don’t know, but it’s definitely not in those,” Atticus said, gesturing to the clock guts that were motionless in front of Otto.

Otto’s face turned from worried to stricken as he followed Atticus’ gaze. And what was meant to be a light hearted joke made a knot form that his hiccups seemed to gather around, an ache forming in his chest.

“Oh, hey…” Atticus cajoled realizing their mistake, “No no. C’mere.”

Atty put down their mug behind them, purposely avoiding the work bench where all of those delicate looking tools and parts were exposed. They wrapped their arm around his shoulders and took their other hand and pressed his head into their chest softly, stroking his hair. It was rare that they got to cradle Otto like this as their two height differences made it near impossible if he wasn’t sitting. So they actually really enjoyed moments when they could cradle him and offer him comfort, his body jolting with hiccups that seemed to get stronger as he had brought up the backlog of work he had on his plate right now.

“Sorry, sweetie,” Atty said softly into Otto’s hair.

Otto sighed at the sensation of warm breath on his scalp. The sigh ended in a hard HUCK-UK! He grunted. Now that he had started paying attention to them he realized how long he’d had the hiccups and how annoying they had become. It probably didn’t help that he also suddenly realized how hungry he was. His hiccups were definitely jolting a stomach that felt empty and ached a little from that, too.

“I’m just huck-uk!-just a little huck!-overwhelmed,” he admitted. His hiccups were a little muffled as he buried his face in the soft material of Atticus’ Henley. Their scent was comforting and he took a breath of it, snorting a couple more hiccups, small burps escaping in retort.

“You need a break,” Atticus said. “Would you allow me to call Millie and tell her you’re a little backlogged and not feeling well? And let me fix you a sandwich? I think it would help the...hiccups, too. And if that doesn’t work we can cure them the way we always do.”

Otto whimpered a little. He hated stepping away from a project, especially when he had so many more to work on. He rubbed his stomach, though, feeling his hiccups respond by quickening again. He felt Atticus’ hand raking through his hair and over his scalp, grounding him.

“Hey,” Atticus said, voice still soft. Their hand suggested to Otto that he should look up at them and so he obliged. Tilting his head up forced his body to jerk a little more at each hiccup so he had to adjust his eyes at each spasm to keep on Atticus’. “It’s not your fault that you’re behind. You’re one person and you have a sudden surge of clients that need your services. You’re doing the best you can. And right now, you need to take care of yourself because otherwise you’re going to work yourself to the ground and I’ll have to youtube how-to videos on clock repair and, I dunno, I might get maimed by a main spring or something.”

“Is HUCK!-is this huck’m!-supposed to make mhuck!-me feel huck!huck!-feel better?” Otto responded wryly. He didn’t miss the roll of Atticus’ eyes as he suppressed a belch that tucked his chin in immediately followed by a volley of silent hiccups. He grunted, disgruntled. He felt a hand on his head again.

“You get what I’m saying though,” they said.

He nodded, “Y-yeah mk!mk!”

“Want me to call Millie?” they asked.

He shook his head at that.

“I’ll d-do it,” he said.

“With the hiccups…?” Atticus asked incredulously. They’d recently found out a few months ago how uncomfortable having hiccups in public made Otto.

Otto shrugged in response. It was a non-committal response but it indicated that he just thought it would be easier, somehow. Atticus didn’t argue. They weren’t a fan of talking on the phone, anyway.

“Sandwich?” was Atticus’ final question as Otto gathered up his phone and searched his contacts for Millie’s number. He nodded at this.

“P-please. Huck!-uh. Thanks,” he added sheepishly.

Atticus smiled and put a kiss on his forehead as Otto held the phone up and listened to the other line ring.

He prepared to try and suppressed his hiccups as much as possible. He certainly didn’t want to come off as rude. As weird as it was, some people did see the involuntary spasms as impolite and Millie was in her late 70’s, nearing 80. He had no idea what the older generation would think about a professional calling with the hiccups. If he were in a clearer frame of mind he might have decided to let Atticus call or wait until he could cure them effectively, but it seemed more direct and rational to deal with it himself as soon as possible.

“Hey M-Millie,” Otto said when a voice on the other end came on. Otto had been servicing Millie’s clocks for close to a decade now. She had some amazing timepieces and a couple of gorgeous chiming clocks. He had been honored to form a relationship with her first because of the opportunity to work on some absolutely amazing clocks but then because Millie was a delightful person.

“I’m d-mm!-doing okay. I apo-uh!-apologize for—for calling later—later than we’d agree-eed on. Hmp!” Otto tried not to hold his breath as that sped up his hiccups but he had been able to silence most of them with effort.

“N-no,” Otto said, and chuckled a little releasing an uncaught squeak. “The conhmp!-mm-the connection’s fine. I—I have a pretty—pretty stubborn hmpk!-uh stubborn case of the-the hiccups right now. Pl-please excuse me mk!”

Otto smiled and stood, wincing as he realized how incredibly stiff he was from sitting at the bench. His butt, of all things, was numb and sore at the same time. He came into the threshold of the kitchen to lean against the wall and watch Atticus toast bread to make a PB&J. They were slicing up apples, too.

Millie was coo-ing as if she was his mother. ‘Poor baby’ and such. Otto already felt more relaxed listening to her voice soothing him with compassion. He let his hiccups out a little as he unclenched his muscles. He still kept his mouth closed so they didn’t explode into Millie’s ear but they made more regular mk sounds as he waiting for her to finish.

Atticus sent Otto a smile as they mouthed ‘I love you’. Otto mouthed it back but with an uck punctuating it.

“Mm. N-no. Holding muck!-my breath makes mk!-makes them worse mk!-usually. Huck! Sorr-mk!-sorry!” Otto said, covering his mouth.

Otto nodded to her response.

“Yeah-mk!-they’re pretty bad. Mmk! L-listen. I wanted mk!-wanted to see if mk!-if we could t-talk tomorrow. Hmpk! I have a mk!-pretty long back-mk!-backlog of p-mp!-projects right now. I haven’t mk!-had—had time to look at mk!-my schedule, yet. C-could I call mk!-you tomorrow?” Otto asked.

Otto nodded as she acquiesced very quickly, insistently almost. Otto knew Millie couldn’t see him nod but he did it out of instinct and as Atticus seemed to relax at the gesture it was good that he had done it to confirm at least that stress was dealt with and off of his plate for today.

“Yeah th-they’re doing okay. Mmk!-uh. Fixing me so-something to eat mk!-right now. I s-sorta forgot hmpk!-to do that. Mmk’m!” Otto responded and rubbed his chest. “P-probably why mk!-these things have mk!-lasted this long.” Otto paused, listening, and smiled, “Yeah m-my mom mk!-got them when she was hung-hungry, too!”

Atticus raised their eyebrows. Otto grinned and shrugged.

“Okay,” he said into the phone. “O—okay, yeah. Mk! Yeah, tom-tomorrow. Mk! I’ll tell them. B-bye.”

Atticus sat the plate with the PB&J down on the kitchen table and the apple slices next to it. The writer was forbidden to use the stove anymore since the great scorch a few years back. Since then they’d gotten pretty damn good at salads and sandwiches, when needed. Otto did most of the cooking.

“M-Millie sends huck-uh!-her well-wishes. Says she hmpk!-read your latest huck!-latest book of poems. She hupk!-likes the one about p-MK!-pomegranates,” Otto said fondly.

“Ha! That’s great! It’s so cool that she reads my stuff. By the way, that one was totally about my junk,” Atticus said indelicately.

“HA! Huck’m! H’muck! Mk!-uh! Ugh, don’t m-make me laugh. HUCK!-uh…” Otto guffawed. He suppressed another belch followed by three more hiccups that seemed to play with the air that his stomach had created from becoming acidic with hunger. Otto made a gross face and swallowed.

“Sit! Food! Eat!” Atticus insisted.

Otto finally pushed off of the wall and sat down.

“PB and h’muck!-J?” Otto asked.

“Fast calories. C’mon. Those hiccups are just hungry. Take your time. I’ll get you some water,” they said and ruffled Otto’s curls as they passed him to get a glass.

“What-hmp!-What are you gonna eat?” he said around a bite. He chewed while he hiccuped and swallowed between them. It was a delicate process but he could already tell that his stomach was starting to satiate by the second bite. Though he might need at least one more of these sandwiches, at least. He tried to go slow.

“Gonna make some eggs,” Atticus said. At Otto’s look, they said, “I can make eggs…”

He grinned around the food, hiccuped, and swallowed. He made no further comment except to watch them carefully during the process.

Two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with half an apple eaten by Otto and two scrambled eggs with toast eaten by Atticus later the clock maker felt a lot better. His hiccups weren’t quite gone, but they had lessened significantly. His anxiety had ebbed significantly, too. But he still couldn’t help but think about the looming deadlines and clock movements that sat unfinished.

“Okay. Back to it. Hmph!” Otto said. “I really appreciate you taking hmp!-taking care of me, Atty. These clocks are n-not gonna put themselves in hmph!-in beat!”

“Hey, suggestion?” Atticus said, putting both of their dishes in the dishwasher after rinsing them. The shorter of the couple watched the taller with some level of intensity. They took in his disheveled curls (though they were the one who did some of that), shadowed eyes, and posture that held tenseness like it was a vital commodity.

Otto’s hiccups had weakened and Atticus was thankful for that. Even within the break from their attraction they found hiccups to be interesting and endearing. But Otto’s hiccups today didn’t just originate from poorly made dinner decisions. Otto’s hiccups seemed to mirror the anxiety state he was in.

Or perhaps that was Atticus projecting a little. This writing submission had been a point of obsession for them. If Otto went back in the deep end of his clock repair then Atticus would end up back treading water with their short story submission. But when Otto looked back, lips opening over his slight overbite then closing quickly with another quick inhale of a hiccup Atticus felt a little guilty and selfish with their suggestion.

“Yeah?” Otto prompted when Atticus seemed reticent.

“Um. How about you don’t?” they finally said.

“Do-hmph!-don’t…?” Otto said, shaking his head.

“Uh. Listen,” Atticus winced as they rubbed the back of their head wondering if they should’ve even brought it up. But they huffed in determination to get it out. “Do you know what time I went to bed?”

“Hmm-hmk!” Otto said and took a moment to think. “No, actually. I know you were werk!-working on your short story. I fi-figured you probably fell asleep hmph!-in the loft.”

“Well yeah, I did...when I heard you get up,” they said sheepishly.

Otto’s eyes widened a little.

“Wait, what?” he replied. “So that was herp!-that was around five this morning?”

“This deadline is so close, Otto. But the harder I push myself the harder it is to finish. And I just,” they sighed in a huff, “I think I need a break! And...with all of these commitments and business you have right now I think...I mean...I’d like you to take a break with me. Just today.”

“Atticus, I…”

“I know, I know. You have a lot of people counting on you and you don’t like to disappoint people or promise something you can’t fulfill. But is what you’re going to be able to get accomplished today with as tired as you are really worth still feeling that tired tomorrow and pushing yourself through until you’re entirely burned out? Or is just taking this afternoon and tonight to take a break and feeling a lot better and having a lot more energy tomorrow better in the long run? I’m kind of being selfish here because I really just need to get out of my head on this thing and seeing you today running yourself ragged and forgetting to eat or drink water...I just...think it wouldn’t be a completely terrible idea for us both to just...take a moment,” Atticus said, sputtering nervously and biting their lip.

Atticus had never had the kind of drive that Otto had when it came to anything in life. Otto was self driven in a way that Atticus could never figure our how to embody. Truth be told, they often felt incredibly inadequate in Otto’s focused motivation and follow-through. But the person they saw crouched over the clock movement, shoulders up to his ears in tightness, working diligently but with tremors more than from hiccups seemed to embody the exhaustion Atticus had experienced the night before and morning of the current day.

“So…” Otto started, allowing his body to jolt with a silent hiccup, “take a break?”

“Yes…”

“Like a...m-mental health day?” Otto asked.

“Yeah, I guess,” Atticus agreed.

Otto sighed and seemed conflicted for a moment. He looked back to his workbench. He gave the two movements sitting on it a glare. His mind’s eye thought about the three watches that needed service and the two other movements in the shed that still needed some attention. None of them were big jobs, but they were still time consuming. But he also considered what Atticus had said.

Warily he stepped tentatively over to his work bench, fingers twitching as he reached and flicked off the lights. He felt his diaphragm twitch again and rubbed his hand over his belly to ease the anxiety.

“Okay. What do we do now? Hmpk!” Otto asked and put a hand over his chest.

Atticus breathed out a sigh of relief. Even though they felt completely comfortable with Otto and had been with him for years they’d always felt like challenging his work ethic and dedication was something mildly off limits. But seeing him in such a state earlier had made their compassion override that inadequacy and they’re glad they offered the out.

“I was thinking we could...lay on the couch and fall asleep to some crappy tv?” they offered tentatively.

Over the years Atticus and Otto’s media consumption had melded. Atticus easily loved the classical music and niche composers Otto featured on his record player, but Atticus sometimes just needed noise. They rarely watched TV, but having it on made them feel more focused in some ways. It didn’t seem to make sense, but it worked for them. And slowly Otto had become accustomed to their habits in addition to his.

After a moment of consideration Otto gave a nod, “I could hup!-do that. Though...my diaphragm is hmph!-kinda disruptive right now…”

“I don’t mind but if it’s bothering you we can do the cure,” Atticus said.

“I think I’m al-almost done. I don’t want to do the hup!-the cure too much. Maybe it’ll get, I dunno, hmk!-like get ineffective if I do it too much?” he said uncertainly.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how that works but if you don’t want a mouthful of salt I totally understand,” Atty said with a smile.

“I really, r-really don’t!” Otto replied emphatically. Atticus laughed.

And so, Otto and Atticus ended up on the couch in the living room. Atticus pressed their back into Otto’s chest and belly. Otto nuzzled his bearded face into the place where Atticus’ neck met their shoulder from behind. For the first five minutes they lazily watched a documentary that neither of them would remember.

Atticus would jolt with every hiccup Otto made. His hiccups muffled in their neck. They could feel his intakes of breath on their neck’s skin and hear the slight whistle as air sucked into his nose as a small thump hit the small of their back from Otto’s stomach.

Otto’s hiccups faded and stopped after that. Simultaneously they both breathed in deeply and let it out. They chuckled together when they realized what they’d done.

Within an hour Otto had relocated to his back and Atticus had tucked themselves to Otto’s side, their head on his chest. A drawling British narrator spoke about some documentary worthy topic as the couple let the worries of their day fade like Otto’s hiccups finally had. When they awoke that evening to have dinner they would find they were able to breathe again, too.

[anthropictales]

What's in a Nom de Guerre?

"So before we do this, tell me, why do you want to change your Title?" Lord Dark: Obliterator asked his youngest lieutenant.

"Some of the kids at school thought it was lame, they called it cringe, and sad." said Destructor Tyrannosaurus Supreme, fidgeting in their over-engineered armored suit.

"Ah. I see," Obliterator said.

"We could change your name, kiddo, but, first..." he beckoned, leading the youngest of the Council of Dark towards the halls in the legacy Fortress of Dark built by the Original Lord Dark, back when he wielded the Darkblade, and the Council of Dark ruled the Bi-state passage and the northwestern stretch of I-22 with impunity.

The Hall of Ambition was lined with newspaper articles, some printed, some projected on screens, tv news segments playing on loop, footage from dozens of eras of history, photos lined the walls, objects, some intact, others mangled beyond recognition, sat in glass cases along both walls...

here was the history of the Council of Dark, a potential treasure trove for prosecutors.

He started at the back, a life-sized photo of the Darkblade alongside trophies of Lord Dark at his earliest, news articles decrying the actions of the super-terrorist who styled himself 'Lord Dark'.

"Kid, there are many kinds of evil in this world. you know that, yeah?" the older villain asked.

Tyrannosaurus nodded.

"Good kid. what makes us different from the banker who denies loans to black folks, or the pharmaceutical company that prices the poor out of life-saving medicine, or the fascist dictator with his army of tanks and bombers, or the real estate company that evicts people, and leaves houses empty for a tax dodge?"

"I dunno."

"Good. I will tell you. The difference is that most evil adheres to and manipulates the law for its own gain, hiding behind a pretense of rationality.

the meanest drug dealer and gangster imagines themselves some kind of businessman or community member, and the random murderer and predator either follows an ideology or an obsession.

the worst criminals do not attack strangers, but those under their supposed care and control, and abuse the law to keep that control.

We are not common criminals, monsters or other such pathetic creatures. we are not lawmen or government agents, not businessmen with an odd hobby. it is creatures like that that desperately seek public approval, the approval of those around them, and fear most of all being embarrassed.

Cringe is their word. not ours.

Cringe is something they fear, because they are not supervillains.

My protege, we are more than them, because we do not rely upon others, upon secrecy, upon reputational dodges and bullshit for our rep, we earn our reputation on the strength of our accomplishments, the power and consequences of our deeds.

Your grandfather, the Original Lord Dark, couched mere sedition and" Lord dark curled his lip in disgust, "Bigotry, in the costume of vaudeville and theatrics, relying on the very ridiculousness of being "Lord Dark" to turn suspicion away from the family." he strode down the hall.

"The first Dark Claw did us a favor, taking the Darkblade and thus, him, out of the picture so the council could form as it now is.

But we keep the name, because once people learned to fear the name, it lost the siliness that would normally accrue to such an overwrought name. your father is Duke Tenebrous the Deranged, your grandmother is the Voice of Shadow, I am Lord Dark Obliterator, your aunt is the Shadow At Midnight.

Too many, these names would be cringe, too. silly. are we cringe or silly?" he asked.

"No, you're scary." Tyrannosaurus said.

Obliterator snapped his fingers. "Exactly. our ridiculous names stopped being funny because we do things that give us a reputation. and so it is, that we continue the tradition, the ridiculous names and costumes, because we care not what ordinary folks think of us, until we earn that reputation.

It is not your place to bow to the dictates of the common culture, Tyrannosaurus. you are not just a criminal, not a petty thief or pathetic white-collar looter, but a supervillain! "

he turned to face his protege. "Your place, is to defy the common man, laugh at their attempts to impose limits upon you. it is your place to punish the world for the temerity of telling you you shouldn't call yourself whatever you damn well please.

and," he knelt down, putting a hand on Tyrannosaurus' shoulder.

"When the time comes to pass the mantle of Lord Dark on, I would be stoked for my successor to be someone as badass as Lord Dark Tyrannosaurus. we can change your name if you want, but I want you to ask yourself, if you truly want to change your name, or if you are changing it because some silly little kids at school laughed at it, not knowing the true might of the one who wears it."

[demcntwins]

Jazz had been pulling out some snacks, pretended not to notice when Jon vanished for a few seconds. She was mostly just grabbing a couple half eaten bags of chips, she did have some veggies and dip in the fridge though and was about to ask him if he would or thought Damian would want that. Before she could though he mentioned Danny having abilities.

She studied him for a moment before deciding that if he was telling her his own hero identity? He wasn't a threat to her brother. “I suspected, after Danny told me he was pretty sure Damian was Robin I started putting together who some other heros were. I doubt Danny's realized.” His birth father may be 'the world's greatest detective', and Danny was smarter than he let on. But he was pretty oblivious a lot of the time.

“If you want to know more about Danny's abilities it's sort of a long story, maybe we should join the two of them for it. It's not really my story to tell." Jazz might not be half ghost, but she was liminal enough thanks to exposure to ectoplasm in Amity that she could feel the spike of power as Danny's power leaked through in his conversation with Damian. I have veggies and dip to in the fridge, do you think Damian would prefer that? Would you prefer that?”

"Whether you did or not you made the conscious choice to do so. I do not know why you chose to move here with Jazz but you made the decision to come here rather than Gotham." Damian's voice was measured and level, arms still crossed as he glared at him to assure he wasn't going to attack the other again.

"I'm here because I'm being hunted!" Danny told him, eyes flashing green as he spoke. "Going someplace like Gotham with the pools of ectoplasm in the air from all the death would be like putting a target on my back, and yours."

A flash of worry and confusion showed in Damian's before he spoke. "If you worried about grandfather, he can be dealt with."

"Grandfather hasn't been the problem for nearly a year, Dami. Probably longer." Danny reached up and dragged his hands down his face, a groan of exasperation before he said. "When I was 14 there was an accident, Lazarus Water isn't exactly the pure form of the shit Grandfather uses. There's this place, an in between dimension that also houses all the afterlife pocket worlds The Infinite Realms. My adoptive parents built a portal to it, I was messing around with it with my friends and it ended up turning on well I was inside."

Looking around the kitchen, he found a kettle and put it on the stove before finding a serious lack of tea. He was gone for about five seconds before coming back with a loose leaf tea mix that he knew Damien enjoyed. Alfred sent it to him regularly for when Damien was at his place.

Smiling softly, the young half kryptonian went about working on making tea.

"So, Jazz...I don't mean to scare you. I've noticed some things...so I'm guessing Danny...Aiden...has some abilities. I do as well. And seeing as I'm close with Damien I figured you should know."

He smiled softly at Jazz.

"I'm Superboy. But shh. It's a secret."

[overlyimmersed]

Pals...I just gotta talk cuz I'm...just having something...

So June is almost over...

I do have a drawing I'm working on for Pride and I'd like to finish it by month's end.

Unfortunately...

Rather then working on it, I've spent the last 4. Hours. Trying to eat half a sandwich.

Why did it take me 4 hours to eat half a sandwich? Well because I had a spider incident.

I...don't consider myself arachnophobic. I am 29. I see spiders daily. Literally every day. There's a large black wolf spider that lives on the railing of the wooden ramp my father built for my grandfather that sometimes needs a wheelchair. I love that little guy. He's a cool spider. He's black as tar with emerald green eyes and some white marking. Very cool little pal. I think it's neat to watch spiders catch prey in their webs. I have captured and released countless spiders from my bedroom over the course of my life. Killed even more. Some...very big...

The spider responsible for this "incident" was not big. It was a common grass spider. Not big. Not venomous.

So. What. Happened?

Look...I haven't been sleeping well for...around 8 months. Because I moved so I had a mix of seasonal and relocation depression and the house had fucky acoustics and I can't sleep in the same room as my cats but they had to be in my room in this house cuz housemates had cats of their own. Then I moved back home. I'm currently staying in a camper cuz my bedroom in being renovated. So I have multiple kinds of depression and am sleeping in the same room as my cats...

Why does this matter? Well I've been hallucinating spiders for the past 1-2 weeks due to sleep deprivation.

OR SO I THOUGHT

It was not hallucinations. It was this little fucker. So that's cool, I'm not as physically messed up as I thought. Spider was real all along. But... I actually don't like spiders...inside a room with me. When they're outside where they belong, they're cool. Come into my space and I start to come a little unglued. I don't like the way they move, they're fast, and I don't want them to touch me.

So this spider makes itself a known by scurrying between my chest and the edge of the table my computer is sitting on. I shriek and nearly fall from my chair to get away from it. I try to kill it somewhere on the table. My cat tries to catch it. There were several attempts made on it's life that all failed. Normal spider encounter stuff. And then, predictably, it disappears. Fine. That happens. It's been in here for days and days already. Not big deal, try to get back to my sandwich and just put the little creeper out of my mind.

Nah.

Me AND MY CAT both spent the next 5-10 minutes jumping at every movement thinking it might be that blasted spider. It never was, but I...was not doing well. Paranoia was starting to close it's grip around my mind. But I was trying to keep a lid on it and just...go about my night. Then...

I felt it...

The spider was on my body. It had SOMEHOW gotten onto my right arm. The last place I'd seen it was on the window glass TO MY LEFT. So obviously I scream, jump up and try to brush it off me, make sure it isn't on my clothes, the whole bit. And I succeed. But because of the previous paranoid behaviors I'm actually not 100% sure it was the spider. It could have just been my own hair and me being hypersensitive out of fear.

NAH.

I search the floor to see if I could find it, so I can murder it cuz I knew I'd get no peace till I saw the bastard's corps. Didn't find it on the floor. I try to talk myself down, assume it was my hair after all and get back to sandwich.

then I see movement. I had been the spider and I had brushed it off into my cats' water dish where it was now trying to swim out. This is my chance. I know exactly where it is and it can't get away. I murder the spider. I nearly fail due to my own stupidity, but I do get it done.

Yay! Now I can finish my food in peace!

Except nah.

I spend the next four hours having an anxiety attack. Hyperventilating, then crying, then just...disassociating... All over a spider that I turned to pulp HOURS ago. Simply because, this one. touched me.

I've never had this happen before. I'm not arachnophoic. So why did it take me 4 hours to eat half a sandwich... When I really just wanted to finish my lunch and work on that damned Pride drawing?

[laurenceslife]

Chapter 73

              At least by the Johannesburg-journey, Laurence somehow or other forgot the horrors tthat he left at home. By the Nelson Mandela Foundation, he got to this special trip which prepared him for the filming.

              He knew already that he could complete the frightening task to play Nelson Mandela. He also loves South-Africa’s mixed culture, and he was enjoying the country’s show-places and voices. He learned a few things about the local dialect, and in Ahmed, he met with such people who were very close to Mandela, and they shared some wonderful things with him. Laurence accompanied Kewkut Mandela, Nelson Mandela’s grandson to his grandfather’s home in Qunu where he saw like there was nothing special there, but he felt it very honorable because he was invited to his home for a meal. It was incredibly special to be there, there was something special about being in his home that he built for his family because he loved the area. There Laurence found a bust what the Thurgood Marshall Foundation gave him, it was the same kind of bust which he got at the opening ceremony of Thurgood; for him, this was like a sign from the universe what Laurence believes in besides God, that the universe helps people, and with this, it showed him that he’s a good actor, and he would be able to play his role.

- The time I spent with Mandela’s grandchild was special, I could look at his letters and artifacts at his house, and I met heaps of people who knew him, for example, I met with his secretary – he said to Gina, eulogizing after going home.

It came into his wife’s head  that if his husband wouldn’t have told these things this way, she could think he wanted to say that he met or could even meet his secretary or any woman who he met with. Like he wanted to achieve not to take a break even from Christmas; so she couldn’t bear the thought of him meeting someone. She just didn’t know why he would have wanted to achieve it, while exactly he was the one who didn’t want her as a woman…

- You’re just fine without me, too, I see – she said only this much but her voice was offended.

- Could you tell me what your problem is now?! – the man asked angrily, with arms folded.

- I’m just jealous… - the woman admitted with a lowered head – It came into my head what it would be like if you would have met a woman there – she continued furiously – Would you feel anything like this, too, if I met somebody?

- You’re still my wife, I still have my memories about what it was like when we lived in a happy marriage, and it would bother me if you met somebody else – Laurence answered emphatically and angrily.

- You’re just not able to feel drawn to me anymore – his wife said bitterly, and furiously went upstairs to their room.

Her husband was pitying Gina. He thought how humiliating it could be for her then. By choice, he would have gone after her to comfort her, but he knew that he wouldn’t have succeeded in doing it, anyway. Instead, he went into Delilah’s room, and the two of them went to walk the dogs.

Next day, he went over to Mike’ place, and then went to Bruce’s place, and also called his other cousins. With his wife, he cooked together in the future too, and with their daughter, they ate the three of them, and sometimes they also watched TV together, but other times, he didn’t spend his time with the woman. He didn’t know how to behave with her.

For Thanksgiving Day, he already took her along, too, to his friend’s house where they always celebrated the holiday, with a lot of people. He didn’t want to explain himself about why Gina didn’t come, especially because Delilah was there, too, like usual.

              They were even spending Christmas together, not to have to tell the family and friends during the holidays that they were taking a break, but they were acting till the end during both days of the holiday so it wouldn’t be visible on them that after the holidays, there was no turning back until the situation would change by itself – After Christmas, they were going to spend at most that much time together how much time they were spending together before the holidays – they thought grievously – Because they ended up there…

- Still no open marriage – his wife said after they had done both days till the end – I’m not like Tom. We live in a decent marriage, we don’t date with anybody else, but if either of us falls in love with someone else, we can be together with that person, but then we divorce – she continued firmly.

She was the one who decided again, as an addition, this time she decided completely without him – the man thought furiously.

- You know that I don’t want an open marriage, either. I wouldn’t agree to it even if you wanted it. If you dated somebody else, I would divorce you – he said angrily.

- It’s interesting that on the other hand, you’re so recipient to Tom – the woman said austerely – He lived in open marriages, on the other hand, you would divorce from me if I did it. Like you cling to him more than how much you cling to me.

It seemed like Gina picked a fight by everything what he said and did because she was angry with him because nowadays, he didn’t think about her as a woman – her husband thought furiously – Though this time he was the one who began speaking angrily… - it came into his head – Because she was conducting again like she was his mother, because she decided without him. He didn’t understand why she didn’t give up this habit – Then maybe everything would have been all right between them!

- With my friend, we don’t have to agree on everything, on the other hand, you are my wife, and I’m not ready to live in marriage with anybody who dates with somebody else – he said furiously – In marriage, it’s much more important to agree on as many things as possible ‘cause spouses are much more important for each other than friends. On the other hand, you’re not ready to change. You know that I hate it when you remind me of my mother, but you lord it over me in the future too!

- What regimentation are you talking about?! You also said that you agreed with me that we wouldn’t live in an open marriage and that I knew it, too! – his wife continued furiously.

- Then why did you say that there wouldn’t be open marriage? – Laurence asked assertively, and left his wife there in the living room.

He went upstairs to their room, and changed. He decided to take Delilah to the playground. He wanted to spend his time at last with someone who didn’t start a quarrel with him over everything. He didn’t even speak to her mother, and didn’t even ask their daughter if it was OK to her if she wasn’t coming with them. He wanted to take charge because he had enough of how bossy Gina was.

While going to the playground and on the way home, it was good to be spending time at last with who was the most important to him. When he was watching Delilah on the playground, he was considering whether her mother, who he had this common child with, was still so important for him like the little girl.

The memories about the years of their marriage that they had spent together, came into his head again, and it was grievous to know that for him, she was already only a family member who he got used to, and only the joint memories connected them already. Nowadays, when they quarreled so much, he didn’t even desire her company. She was just an old friend instead, who he lived together with, and that was why he got used to her. While he had never had so many commons with any of his partners how many commons he has with her.

- Mom, why didn’t you come with us? – their daughter asked cheerfully when they had arrived home.

- You guys didn’t even tell me that you guys were going – her mother answered in a surprised voice and with a surprised look, not angrily because of the child – Where were you two?

- Just on the playground. It’s necessary to speak to you about this too? – the man asked drily.

- Usually all of us go when neither of you two’s working, or you two speak about it when you two are going – Delilah said, frightened and wonderingly.

Gina needed to hold back again, not to bad-mouth her husband.

- It’s the same, we’re better to tell her, anyway – it came into her head after it – That’s also possible that we’ll separate. It can’t take her short – she whispered furiously.

- What will you two tell me? You two started a quarrel, and are gonna divorce? – their daughter asked, frightened. She knew that her father’s parents got divorced, her father had gotten divorced, too, and Suri’s parents got divorced, too, so she experienced that it often happened. Because of this, immediately this possibility came into her head.

First, their parents pitied her, and then it came into their head that at least she was somehow or other used to the thought by what she had heard and experienced.

- It’s not sure at all yet – the woman still said in a reassuring voice – Come, let’s sit down – she went up to the sofa, and all of them sat down.

Then they were surely going to tell her that they were going to separate because they hated each other, and might get divorced if they wouldn’t make peace – it came into the little girl’s head, and already began considering about with which of them she wanted to live, where she wanted to live, and whether how often she could meet with the other one.

Laurence and Gina were considering how to tell her. They pitied her again.

- We’re gonna try it out for a little time to see what it is like to be apart – her mother started it.

- First, we’re only not gonna go anywhere together, and you might be with both of us at the same time more rarely – the man continued.

- After that, we might also separate, but you’ll meet with both of us in the future too.

Delilah calmed down a little bit. She wanted to ask her questions about which of them she would live with in that case, how often she could meet with the other one and where she would live, and then she changed her mind because maybe it wouldn’t even happen. But she already started to be afraid of it, and she also started to be afraid that her parents would divorce. According to what she had heard and seen, she saw a big chance of it, so she started to be very much afraid of this possibility.

The adults were only looking at her and waiting for her to begin to speak, but their daughter couldn’t even begin to speak, just began crying.

Her mother went up to her, and crouched before her.

- Delilah, I know what you’re thinking now. Dad’s parents divorced, too, Dad has divorced once, too, and Suri’s parents divorced, too. But it doesn’t mean everybody divorces. And you see that any trouble didn’t happen to any of them by divorce either. Except Suri, all of them kept in touch with their parents, and your other girlfriends’ parents haven’t even divorced – she comforted her.

After that, it came into their head that on the other hand, Laurence wasn’t keeping in touch with Montana, either, and so the little girl could think if her parents would get divorced or even if they would only separate, and she would do something wrong, she could never see her father or mother again.

- Your sister did something very-very wrong. You surely won’t do anything so wrong, but while you’re so little, we wouldn’t disown you even if you did something very wrong – Laurence reassured her.

              They were spending New Year’s Eve together, at home, like they usually did, because both of them wanted to spend it with their daughter, and also, they didn’t want her to have to decide who to spend it with. They only invited Delilah’s cousins and two brothers, Gina’s girlfriends, Laurence’s brother and cousins because before them, they didn’t feel like they should pretend that everything was all right between them, because they already knew what the situation was.

The pair was trying to feel good at least with them, but they felt like they constantly had to be avoiding each other, so as not to be talking to the same person at the same time who the other one was talking with, so as not to start a quarrel. So after a while, the woman was only talking to her own relatives and girlfriends, and his husband was only talking with his cousins. Fortunately, Delilah didn’t even realize it. She was so happy that she could meet with her cousins and little Ariana again; she was her aunt already at such an age, which she was proud of.

              From January, Laurence started to mostly spend his time with his daughter and friends. As much as possible, he wanted to have his swing, spending the time what he could still spend with Delilah because later, he might have a so big quarrel with the woman that they might separate, and Gina might take the little girl along, too, if only because she wanted to annoy his husband with it too, and with that justification that a child has to be with her or his mother in the case of divorce too, so mothers are given custody of the daughters and sons. And he was hardly having time for his friends recently, and they were also spending New Year’s Eve separately, and now, when they were taking a break with his wife, much more time of him remained for them. Also because of it, he started to spend more time with his close family members and cousins too. In January, he organized a surprise party for Billy’s fiftieth birthday; in March, he invited Gary to a restaurant for his birthday where he invited their common friend Joe too. In April, he invited Renée and her family to their house when it was her birthday. Three days later, Gina’s filming had started in North-Carolina, where, because of the leading role, she couldn’t take Delilah along because she hardly would have had time for her, so she had to stay home with her father. Otherwise, she would have taken her along by choice because their daughter was mostly spending her time with her husband. On the other hand, also already in April, Laurence’s miniseries’ filming about Nelson Mandela, had started In South-Africa. The reason why Delilah could go with him to the filming location instead of being with Gina in North-Carolina, was because the little girl rather wanted to be spending the time in Africa, because it was much more interesting. When she wasn’t at school, she was with him on the set too, because the filming schedule was so busy. With the exception of three actors, everybody was South-African, which made the experience even more special for his daughter, that she was spending her time between them on the set when her father’s scenes were shot. For the man, the filming schedule was tiring but in adopting the accent, he was pretty good like always, and in acting, he also presented an outstanding portrayal like usual. Kevin Hooks the director who Laurence had worked together with in one of his movies wherein he was a co-star, too, took him to the first place among the actors who were considered to play Mandela, and when they were shooting that scene where he got to know that his son died, Kevin knew that he chose right, he even needed to recover himself because he was near to tears and couldn’t begin to speak because Laurence’s portrayal was so powerful.

- I’ve got to be continuing the filming, on the other hand, Mom has finished working so you’ve got to go home with her ‘cause she can be dealing with you much more – the man said one day to Delilah – She’s gonna come for you on Friday, and you two can spend the weekend together even here.

- You weren’t dealing with me too much, anyway. You’re only working all day – the little girl said huffily – I think you didn’t even wanna be dealing with me, everybody’s just praising you, and you’re very much under the influence of the work, too. You’re not even needing me – she finished sadly.

- It’s very tiring to me too, that I’ve got to be working this much. But you know that before it, how much I was dealing with you recently. I was dealing with you more than Mom, while then her filming hadn’t even begun. And now I’m playing a very important role. It would be a huge experience for everybody.

              In the end, his daughter relented, and she was even happy about her mother when she had come for her because she had seen her so long ago.

On the weekend, while Delilah and the woman were touring the local show-places, his husband went to restaurants with some of his fellow actors, listened to David Bowie’s, the Beatles’ and the Rolling Stones’ numbers on his phone while reading and drinking Moroccan mint tea. Other times, he went shopping to buy some interesting clothes nearby, or called some of his friends, family members and cousins. They were spending only the mornings and the evenings together with his wife and the little girl.

After they had gone home, all of his weekends continued the same way, just he already called Delilah too, through Gina; she used to call him to talk to her daughter when she was still there, in Africa. The pair didn’t even talk to each other but they only objectively asked the other one to give the phone over to the little girl. And on the weekdays, the only joy was the filming for Laurence, he didn’t even have time for anything else.

- The fact that we’re working on a six-hour movie, gives us a much bigger canvas, we can present such people who were very influential in Mandela’s life, such people who helped to guide him, helped to shape him and helped to present him a task – he said cheerfully to Tom when he was talking to him on the phone, who, in the end, still cut ties with Suri because of his religion only this year; earlier, he hadn’t been able to abandon her.

- Good for you that something can be this much engrossing you – his friend said – For me, the filming came to an end now. I’m constantly thinking of Suri. It’s the same, it’s gonna stop, I just need to get used to it…

It came into Laurence’s head by it that if they would get divorced with Gina, Delilah might get to the woman, and who knew how rare visit she would fight out in court in anger, because they had to get divorced because of him, because he couldn’t view her as a woman anymore – She might say that their marriage got ruined because of him, they were disaffected living together, before their daughter, and she also might tell the things that his other daughter had committed who he was raising already before their marriage, how much he had time to raise her at all! – he thought – She even might bring it up against him that he disowned his other daughter, and wasn’t keeping in touch with her at all!

- And is everything OK with you guys? – Tom asked.

It came into his friend’s head that he hadn’t even told him that they were taking a break with his wife.

- I’ve always looked up to you ‘cause you’ve had only one divorce, and ‘cause you’ve been together with Gina for so much time – Tom continued before Laurence could answer – How do you do it? You could help me so I don’t make this mistake anymore.

This put the lid on it – the older man thought – Not only his friend wouldn’t look up to him anymore but he couldn’t even help him anymore. Maybe he would have given him any advice in vain, he wouldn’t have believed him because they had been together with the woman for so much time in vain since then they were there. Poor Tom needed help but then he couldn’t help him – he already pitied him more than how much he pitied himself, because he had gotten divorced three times and because he had to cut ties with his daughter forever.

- You’re not alone – Laurence sighed grievously – It seems we might divorce, too. Now we’re taking a break, and it remains to be seen what will happen. And to tell the truth, it seems it’s gonna end in divorce for us too.

It was grievous to say it. Till then, he hadn’t even admitted it to himself.

- I’m sorry I was just complaining. I didn’t know that you two have problems, too, and I didn’t even give you a chance to tell me – the younger man began to speak repentantly – But what happened between you two?! – he asked, startled.

The reason why he didn’t want to tell him, was already because he was ashamed that he wasn’t able to see his wife as a woman, and that it was because of him that they were there.

- It’s long. It all started when it came out that Gina had problems in our marriage. And later it came out that I have problems – he said this much only. After that, it came into his head that he hadn’t told him how much they were ignoring each other during the break that they were taking, and how much they were quarreling even during taking the break, which was lasting already for more than a half year.

He was aghast when it came into his head that it had been lasting already for such a long time – From then, it was almost impossible to piece a marriage up. He should get used to the thought already then that they were going to get divorced. But at least this taking break and this far-away filming were somehow or other making the divorce gradual, and it would be easier to get used to he would live without that woman who he had been married to for fourteen years. But after so much time, it was still going to be shockingly unusual that they wouldn’t live and wouldn’t be together anymore. But he was afraid the most that his wife would be given custody of Delilah.

- You wouldn’t like to talk about it, I can see. But it’s still interesting that once, either of you two is having problems, or the other one is having problems. But it’s also good because both of you two don’t have problems, and maybe it would be enough if either of you two took her or his cue from the other – Tom said in a much more cheerful voice – Maybe this thing’s not even so hopeless. Or why do you think it is?

- Because I rebuke her every time she conducts herself like she’s my mother, she still doesn’t stop doing it – Laurence answered angrily – She doesn’t realize how she behaves – he continued sadly.

- While she always thinks in advance. She always sees dangers in advance. Maybe she doesn’t even behave that way, just you apprehend it like she conducts herself like that.

- Surely she always conducts herself this way about something else so she doesn’t know what counts as like that for me. Or because of the tension that’s between us nowadays, she’s unable to think in advance. Nowadays we start a quarrel over so many things.

His friend didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

- I’ve got an idea. Though it’s not sure that it’s possible to do anything by it, but I think the reason why you’re so sensitive to it when she reminds you of your mother even a very little bit, is because it’s still inside you that she contacted all your friends and relatives so nobody would tell you what things your mom said about you. But maybe she really had a really good reason to do it. You were still mourning your dad’s death, and maybe you wouldn’t have been able to bear this too – Tom finished emphatically.

Laurence got angry with the woman again:

- She also could have thought that I could have gotten to know it from one of my colleagues, which would have been much more awkward if I would have gotten to know it from them than if I would have seen it on the internet or one of my friends or family members would have told me.

- But that wasn’t sure. And she did everything so you wouldn’t get to know it, because she thought that then you would have snapped very much.

- She was the reason why I was in such a state of mind because of my father’s death. For a while, I was dealing with her and Delilah less ‘cause all my family members were reminding me of my father, and then I was dealing with them more because of her, so I was constantly thinking about my father – the older man said firmly.

- Maybe she was having a conscience, and that was why she wanted to protect you. Or because she loved you – he continued emphatically – Maybe she still loves you. Do you still love her at all?

- Nowadays I don’t, but I might love her again. I’ve never loved anybody better than her.

- To me, it doesn’t seem like there’s turning back, except for this is only temporary what you’re feeling for her because of your mother. But it’s been lasting for more than a year already…

- You’re right – the other one sighed grievously – When I go home, we’ll surely talk the divorce over. The only reason why we haven’t talked it over yet, is because we haven’t met yet, and she wants to tell it in person. Or I might be the one who tells her after I go home.

- Still think twice before it. Don’t decide it now, suddenly, as soon as I told you that I thought there was no turning back. But if you wanna divorce in the future too, tell her as soon as possible if she doesn’t do it. Maybe she still loves you, and has not the heart to do it, she has not the heart to give up the hope, while there’s no hope anymore, so no point about cherishing the hope in the future too, and living in that bad marriage in the future too. Especially if you two don’t even date with anybody else, and you two have less chance of meeting somebody who you two would feel good with.

- I’m just afraid of losing Delilah. I mean she might fight it out so she’s given custody of her, and who knows how rarely I can meet with her – Laurence finished angrily.

- If you knew what I would give if I could meet with Suri at least sometimes! – the younger man burst out saying it bitterly and hotly – If that’s the only thing why you’re afraid of getting divorced, then divorce from Gina! – he continued austerely – Be happy that you don’t have to cut ties forever at all! – he finished furiously.

- You were the one who opted for this religion – his friend said carefully – If you wanted to, you could leave the religion.

Tom didn’t say anything, just bitterly said goodbye, and then Laurence was getting ready to go to sleep.

After going to sleep, he couldn’t sleep because of the thought that his marriage was going to be over forever.

He got up, and only could fall asleep after a long meditation.

Next day, he was terrified again that he would hardly be able to see his daughter after the divorce, and then it came into his head that Tom was in a much worse situation, and he calmed down because he could see Delilah at least sometimes.

              He hurled himself into the filming again, which impressed him very much. Playing this role was an honorable and a humiliating role for him at the same time. This movie was really about the man himself, it was about much more than about the myth. While making the movie, Laurence and the others were trying to disclose how Mandela became a myth, and he felt like this filming changed his life.

He loved to be in Africa as always. There he felt like he was at home. He has been there several times already, because of his being an UNICEF ambassador, so he has taken a look at several show-places there already, but on the weekends when there wasn’t filming, he visited those comparatively close places which he hadn’t seen yet.

- Where were you for so long? I already believed you weren’t even gonna come back – his wife said bluntly after the filming had come to an end, and he had traveled home.

- Just don’t tell me that you were missing me – her husband put his suitcase down angrily.

- Delilah was missing you. Besides, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something for a long-long time.

- Sorry, the filming lasted till now. Where’s Delilah?

- Now it’s the same. I wanna get it over with this conversation already now. It won’t even last long. I only wanted to tell you that until your next filming, I give us time to get to know if the situation changes between us, and then, if it doesn’t change, we divorce. Now we were far from each other for a long time, it hasn’t come out how we will live together nowadays.

- You’re deciding alone again – the man said strictly – The only reason why I agree to that, is because after that, it comes to an end, anyway, this situation won’t last forever.

- There’s not even much time anymore – the woman sighed grievously – Your next movie’s filming is gonna start next month.

It astonished Laurence how well she remembered – Accordingly she had been dealing with this thought already for a long time – he thought.

- Delilah, Dad has arrived! – Gina spoke to the little girl, and then went upstairs to their room.

- Hi – their daughter said wonderingly when she came out of her room, and saw the astonishment on his father.

              Everything returned to the way they were conducting themselves before the filming – Even if they would have had a chance to piece their marriage up, from then, they didn’t have a chance, anyway – Laurence thought because his wife decided alone again, as an addition, she even decided about their marriage.

It was visible that the woman was mourning for their marriage already then. Maybe her husband had never seen her in such a state of mind. Already she was the one who he pitied. He thought she surely wasn’t going to take the little girl from him anymore, because she wasn’t angry with him anymore. He would have comforted her with pleasure, but he knew that he only would have made the divorce harder by it. It also came into his head that maybe she only gave them even more time to get ready spiritually for the time when he wasn’t going to be there anymore.

              The rehearsals had started for the filming. For two weeks, they rehearsed every day, so the man didn’t have to see Gina’s state of mind for so much time anymore. Till then, he was also mostly dealing with Delilah, but when they were at home, sometimes they bumped into each other with his wife, and then he spent less time at home than recently. This comparatively rare possibility to get ready for a filming, came just in time. They gathered together with the actors every day to read and to talk about the movie more and more, which Laurence liked very much, anyway.

And then the first day of the filming had started.

- Would you like to talk it over already now or would you like to wait yet? – the man asked sympathetically in the morning, already before filming, by seeing his wife’s mournful look.

- What to talk over? We’ll divorce. Or do you wanna talk the wherewithal over already now? – Gina asked coldly. She was holding the field so as not to break down before him because the reason why they were going to get divorced was because he didn’t need her anymore as a woman.

- If you’d like, we can begin it. The only thing I cling to, to have shared resistance about raising Delilah. She shouldn’t meet with me any less than with you – her husband’s voice was considerate in the future too.

- You can so easily come to grips with we’ll divorce?! Doesn’t it shake you at all but it shakes only me?! It’s this much that we talk it over to who the kid should get to and what to be whose?! – she asked, crying and furiously.

- You were the one who said that there was nothing to talk over about it.

- But I can’t see any sign of the loss on you!

- Recently we already knew that it was gonna be. But if you’re not ready for it, let’s not talk the details over yet. Anyway, we’ve got to talk over a lot of things, we’re not gonna finish before filming, anyway, today either, neither some weeks later, neither within a few months.

- You were the one who said that you wanted the kid only.

- I still know that it works that way. I need to live somewhere, too, I need furniture, too, and other materials in the house – Laurence said strictly.

His wife was indignant that he was quite capable of being so brutish even then.

- Couldn’t we talk about the divorce peacefully at least? – she asked furiously.

- I started it peacefully. You were the one who started to be in a tantrum – the man said firmly.

- Because it’s abnormal how you’re behaving! Since when haven’t you been loving me anymore?! Are you happy that you can see the back of me?! – Gina continued furiously and bitterly.

- It shook me, too, that we’re gonna divorce. I got used to living with you so it’s gonna be odd, and I used to love you, too. But I’ve known for a much longer time that there’s gonna be a divorce.

How could he know that he knew it for a much longer past?! – the woman thought indignantly – He just didn’t love her anymore, so he got over it much earlier!

- It seems marriage is not for me – her husband sat down on the bed brokenly – I already tried it twice. I experienced failure twice. You can still succeed in doing it. Maybe I just wasn’t suitable for you… at least after a while.

His wife grievously looked at him because he could already think that she could meet somebody else.

- Don’t be ridiculous! I’m forty-seven years old! You can think that I’m not gonna get married anymore! – she said only this much, huffily.

- But maybe you’re still able to live together with somebody – Laurence said emphatically.

- For the time being, I can’t think about meeting somebody else – Gina sat down before him brokenly.

- But you’re gonna be able to do it. On the other hand, I’m gonna obtain simple girlfriends – the man said sadly.

- You weren’t the only one who blew our marriage – the woman said mournfully after some seconds – Once, I didn’t realize that we had problems, and then I couldn’t give up always bossing – she continued with downcast eyes.

Her husband boggled that then, for the first time after a long time, she took his side, and wasn’t only stiffly or furiously talking to him. And he also calmed down because then, that their relationship was peaceful, it was already sure that she wasn’t going to take Delilah from him.

He went to the set, where, before shooting, they continued reading for the director and talked about the movie even more, which was very apt for him to be able to be tuned to the movie after dealing with the divorce.

- This filming is every actor’s dream – he told Bruce when he called him on the way home, so the divorce still wouldn’t be on his mind – As an addition, Rick, the director, who we share a birthday with, and is punctually one year older than me, said I was his only idea for the role! – he continued cheerfully – He was the one who offered me the role. It was great to get to know him, and it’s very good to work together. I’m one of the co-stars so I’ve got to work pretty much… Steve Carell, another co-star, even consulted with his father to get ready for the movie. His father’s a veteran, and we’re playing veteran soldiers – he was counting every single detail that came into his head, so as not to have to be talking about the divorce. He wasn’t ready for it yet – Now we’re filming in New York, so we’re living here, in our local house. On the weekend, we can get together, already before the filming continues in Pennsylvania.

- Aren’t you even gonna go home on the weekends? – his cousin wondered.

- I don’t know… In the end, if this weekend’s not OK for you, nor any weekends nowadays if we’ll still be filming here, I can come home from Pennsylvania to visit you guys.

- That’s also comparatively nearby. I think you shouldn’t come home only because of me, but because of Gina and Delilah too. Or did you two start a very big quarrel with Gina, and you two are already avoiding each other?

- In the end, because of Delilah, I really could come home, and also to talk the details over with Gina – Laurence sighed, and decided to tell him – We decided to divorce – he said mournfully – That’s why I’ve been thinking we would be better to spend as little time together as possible, to gradually get used to each other’s lack. It’s gonna be hard. It’s very odd… It’s wearing her mostly – he finished sympathetically – I haven’t even wanted to tell you ‘cause it’s so new to me yet. Then I can imagine what she can feel…

- Sorry I got it out of you… When did you two decide this way? – Bruce asked, embarrassed.

This time Laurence began being ashamed of his wife deciding about it too, and then he was angry with the woman because of it.

- We agreed that we would divorce if the situation wouldn’t change till my next filming. The filming began today… - he said only this much after cooling himself off.

- Then it’s really very new… Though you two could suspect it recently already – his cousin said with pity in his voice.

- Yeah. I noticed that Gina doesn’t even wear the nuptial ring anymore. Surely by pride…

- Why do you think so?

Laurence was considering how much to tell him.

- Already when she came forward with the offer to wait till the filming to know if our marriage would pick up, she wasn’t wearing it anymore… - he said only this much; he didn’t want to tell him that she was surely also ashamed that he didn’t need him as a woman anymore.

- And do you still wear it? – the other man asked tensely.

- It hasn’t even come into my head yet to take it off – his cousin answered wonderingly.

- What do you think, could Delilah notice it? Or have you two told her already?

- I haven’t had time to do it yet. We’ve told her already that we would take a break, and she surely also realized it. I think as soon as I arrive home, I tell her. I mean if Gina hasn’t done it without me…

- Did you two start a quarrel over her monopolizing her?

- No. We started a quarrel over her deciding about everything – Laurence said firmly – Maybe she decided to let her know it as soon as possible during the day – he continued angrily.

- I think you’ll still talk to her, too, even if she has done it already.

Good enough that he reminded him to do it – Laurence thought.

As soon as he had arrived home, he looked for his daughter.

- Hi, I’ve arrived – he said tensely after he found her in her room – Have you talked with Mom already?

- About the divorce? – the little girl asked with big, frightened eyes – Or did you two make peace today already? – she looked at him hopefully.

- No. Then I’ll call Mom downstairs. Come out to the living room – he went out, too, and went upstairs to speak to the woman.

- I’ve arrived. We’ve got to tell Delilah – he said as soon as opening the door of the room.

- Now I’m talking to somebody. Send her to have a bath, and take a shower, and we’ll talk it over after it – her wife said firmly, with phone in hand.

- I’ve already called her out to the living room to talk it over. What if once, you weren’t who’s bossing? – her husband asked angrily.

- Can’t you see that I happen to be telephoning?!

The man slammed the door, sent their daughter to have a bath, and he took a shower, too, in the other bathroom – It seemed they were on bad  terms again. Maybe he could still lose Delilah – he thought, frightened during it.

- I don’t even know how I could have thought that once in our life, you would obey me about something – he said after it, raging, when they had met in the living room.

- I’m ready – the little girl came downstairs, too, so Gina couldn’t answer him anymore – So it’s not the divorce that we’re gonna talk about? Or you two haven’t made peace? – she asked, scared to death.

- Sit down – his father said sympathetically.

- Then you two are gonna divorce? – their daughter continued questioning after sitting down on the sofa.

- I know what you feel now – her father sat down to either of the armchairs – My parents divorced, too. We were sitting in the living room, too, when they told me, and I was only one year older than you – he said with grief in his look by the memories and by the rue.

- I’m sorry you’ve got to experience it twice after we also told you here that we would take a break – her mother began to speak sympathetically. She was sitting in the other armchair.

- But you don’t have to miss me so much like I had to miss my dad. Moreover, you don’t have to miss me at all. You can spend as much time with me as you spend with Mom, in the future too; we’re only gonna live separately. I mean if Mom or the court agrees to it… - Laurence looked at the woman strictly in the end.

His wife furiously looked back at him because he was emotionally influencing the child. This time she couldn’t be the one who was bossing. If she would have said anything against this, Delilah would be angry with her – Her husband well figured it out – she thought.

- Officially, your address is still gonna be at my place ‘cause officially, the kid’s given custody of the mom, and since Dad works more, you’re gonna meet with me more – she said, desperately clinging to spend more time at least with her daughter since she was losing her husband.

- Can’t I go to any of Dad’s filming locations anymore?! – the little girl resisted.

- When he’s one of the co-stars, you’re gonna be with me. And he’s one of the co-stars more times than me – Gina answered empathically.

- When I’m a co-star, I only work almost all day; then I hardly have time for you. While filming Madiba, you also said that I was hardly dealing with you. That was also because I was the co-star – Laurence pitied his wife because realized why she was so desperately fighting for her, and the divorce was easier for him than for her, and he has several children.

- So that’s OK – Delilah said contentedly.

- When both of us are filming, you’re gonna be with who has less scenes, in the future too – her mother added.

- And what’s gonna be if both of you’re playing as much as the other one?

- When we have a leading role, you can be at Mike’s or at other relatives’ place too, if you think then we deal too little with you – the woman said with pangs of conscience in her voice because till then, they didn’t do it this way, and now she got to know that it was too little for her how much they were dealing with her then.

- But then we’ll call you more often. If you want, every day – her father added.

- And at which of you two’s house are my clobbers gonna be? – their daughter asked curiously.

- Some things are gonna be at my house, and some things are gonna be at Dad’s. The way you want – her mother said.

- And if you miss something in either house which is at the other house, we will buy it for you, and you’ll have it at both places; this way, you don’t have to always take it over to the other house – the man complemented.

- And why are you two gonna divorce? – the question suddenly came into the little girl’s head.

- Dad doesn’t love me anymore – Gina retorted because her husband answered her without he would have talked the answer over with her, and decided about her too. She was used to its opposite.

- And Mom many times decided instead of me – Laurence said a bit angrily, too.

- And that’s why you don’t love her? – Delilah continued questioning.

- Yes… But it’s not the only reason why our marriage was bad – Laurence answered, embarrassed – Once, I didn’t realize that there were problems in our marriages, and once she hadn’t realized it.

- And when are you two gonna separate?

- When I find another house.

- Why won’t either of you live in the New York house, and the other in the Los Angeles house?

- ‘Cause I bought the New York house already before our marriage so the court’s probably gonna grant it to me, but most movies are filmed in L.A., and I’d like to be near you so I need a house there too.

- And why are you gonna be the one who moves?

These lots of questions were irking the man, and her wife began feeling unnecessary because their daughter was asking her father only.

- I have more money to buy a house, especially if I sell my man cave, and I also said to Mom that I didn’t ask for anything but only a shared resistance about raising you. And the divorce wears her more than me, and the L. A. house is on her name, because it’s been hers already before we met – Laurence answered patiently in spite of that.

The woman felt ashamed that her husband told her that she was the one who the divorce wore more, but she knew that she also told her before that the man was the one who didn’t love her anymore.

- Why are you gonna sell that man cave, and why not the New York house? – Delilah asked curiously.

- He’s been going to the man cave to pull out from feminine things – Gina answered, laughing, to also talk – When he moves, there aren’t gonna be feminine things in his house that he would have to pull out from.

- And I’d like to keep the New York house because here are my several relatives and many filming locations too – Laurence added.

- Why aren’t you gonna move in that man cave? – the little girl laughed.

She hadn’t even been there, her father only went there to enjoy themselves with his pals; everybody else had to check in, even his family members.

- He still wants a nicer house than that – her mother laughed, too – That’s unmeet for living in it but it’s only for fun.

- I keep some of your toys there, I keep my comic collection and my mask collection there, and it’s not even so big, my clobbers wouldn’t even find room there – her father completed it.

- Where are you gonna keep these?

- I’m gonna keep your toys where you want them to keep, and some of them can be in this and in my new house too. I think I’ll keep the others in my new house ‘cause I already earn more so I can buy a bigger house too, where they find room.

- Are you gonna buy the new furniture or are you gonna take some pieces?

- Most of them are by his salary because he earns more than me, so he can take which ones aren’t too feminine for him, and we’ll choose which ones you like, too – his wife smiled.

- But I earn more so I can buy more pieces of furniture, so half of the furniture’s enough for me – her husband smiled, too.

Of course, then they were getting along when they were divorcing… - they thought, wondering, and grievously looking at each other because it was already late, and this much wouldn’t have even been enough, anyway.

- Sometimes you two get along! Why aren’t you two gonna stay together?! – their daughter asked intractably.

- I’ve already told you that Dad doesn’t love me anymore… - the woman answered tensely.

- I don’t believe it! To me, it seems you two love each other!

- You could see that other times, how we treat each other… - the man said mournfully.

Delilah was watching bitterly and desperately, looking for reasons why they should stay together, but any other occasion didn’t come into her head when they were treating each other that way.

- You don’t have to deal with it. Nothing’s gonna change, we’re just not gonna live together, the three of us – Gina comforted her.

- Till now, you’ve also been with who’s not working, or who has less scenes – Laurence added.

- And will we go together to the zoo, to the amusement park and for a holiday? – Delilah asked, still bitterly.

- Yes, sometimes, we’ll be the three of us, too.

They went to sleep, and the next day, the man was working from the morning till the evening again, like every day, till the weekend, and the little girl was at school, wrote homework, played with her mother or with the animals, or watched TV like usual.

              On the weekend, her father went to Bruce’s place with her because his cousin was having time.

- Hi Delilah! How much you’ve grown! You inherited Dad’s and Mom’s height – Bruce said after saying hello to Laurence.

- I mostly inherited Mom’s height! She’s almost as tall as Dad for a woman! – the little girl said cheerfully. She was happy that she could be spending some time with her father too.

They sat down on the sofa and in the armchairs. Delilah couldn’t be playing with anybody while the two men and Allisha were talking because Bruce’s children had grown up and moved house already, but Laurence didn’t want to miss this opportunity too, when he could be spending his time with his daughter, who had met his father’s cousin and his wife a long time ago, anyway.

- How’s school going? – the woman smiled at the little girl.

- It’s going well – Delilah grinned shyly.

The adults were considering what to talk about so Gina wouldn’t come up anymore, which would have made the conversation awkward because of the divorce.

Laurence already regretted taking Delilah along, and it was bothering him that Allisha was there, too.

- When is the filming gonna continue in Pennsylvania? – Bruce asked.

- Already next week. From then, it’s gonna be there, in Pittsburgh till the end. Till now, it was in Cold Spring. I love this filming. On every filming-day, we read to the director early, talk about the movie, and then go to execute what we talked over – Laurence smiled.

- Are you gonna take Delilah along to Pennsylvania? – the woman asked.

- No, I’m one of the co-stars so I wouldn’t have too much time for her – Laurence answered in a low voice.

- I wouldn’t feel good there, between the Amish people, anyway! – his daughter grinned.

- That place isn’t even for such a special little girl! – Bruce smiled.

- Then it’s not for me either! I’m special, too! – his cousin said funnily.

- Mom’s special, too! – his daughter grinned in the future too.

- Yes, she is – his father said seriously – I was very much in love with Mom. She was one of my biggest loves. I’ve never loved anybody better than her – he told Delilah so she wouldn’t feel like he hated her mother or didn’t love her enough – Our marriage wasn’t a mistake for a long while, and you weren’t, either. We correspond with Mom about a lot of things. Both of us like cooking, both of us are special and raise you to be special, both of us sport, we’re actors, we went to artistic middle-schools, we actively take part in politics, and both of us are from New York – he finished importantly.

- It’s incredible that a marriage can come to an end even in spite of these – Allisha said sympathetically.

- You two also had been married for a comparatively long time. You two had been married for a longer time than most star couples – her husband added.

Laurence laughed.

- I don’t think about myself as a star but as an artist – he said, smiling.

- Maybe that’s also a reason why you two could live in a happy marriage for so long. You’re not full of yourself, and didn’t cheat on her – Bruce said.

- How do you know? – Laurence was kidding.

- I know that you never cheat on anybody!

- OK, I really didn’t cheat on her! – the guest man smiled.

- You’ve never cheated on anybody? – the little girl asked curiously.

- Only with a kiss. I also did that for a good cause – his father answered funnily, but inside, he and Bruce mournfully remembered the old story’s tragic consequences. They would never forget it, and Laurence will always vividly remember that infernal filming’s period.

- Then he was helping me. It’s a long story. I didn’t have a girlfriend, and your dad wanted to help me in getting a girlfriend. He had a party organized intentionally, to find a girl for me there with his girlfriend who was talking to the girls there. But in the beginning, the music was too loud, and one of his friends, the entertainer who was a girl, was in love with your dad so she said that if he would kiss her, she would turn down the volume. First, your dad didn’t want to agree to it, but later, for me, he was able to do even that. After that, he regretted it very much of course, and for a while, he even took a dislike to that female friend of him… - his cousin told the story, skipping the grave consequences, to still save the little girl from that, but he told it to remind Laurence of at least then he was experiencing a much worse period than now when he was divorcing, to be able to value the present period. Besides, he didn’t even have an idea to react to this subject any other way, and couldn’t immediately come forward with another subject, and it was also difficult to find such a subject which was appropriate for a little girl too.

- Why did you take a dislike to her since you were for it, too? And what more can be than a kiss? – Delilah asked her father curiously in the future too.

- This is how it works. You get to know it when you’re older – Allisha answered to also begin to speak.

- You didn’t neck with her but only gave a kiss to her lips?

- Yes – already Laurence answered, a bit embarrassed.

- Are you gonna systematically come home from Pennsylvania? – the woman changed subject after considering for some seconds about what to be talking about.

- Yeah, at least to take a look at some houses in L. A. So I’m gonna go home there already, so Delilah’s gonna be living there again, too, so is Gina too.

- But Pennsylvania’s very far from L. A.! Or aren’t you gonna go home every weekend?

- No, and like usual, we’re ready shooting my scenes soon, so maybe I won’t be able to go home for some weekends only.

- You’re so talented that it’s enough to shoot your scenes hardly a few times! And still you’re the one who doesn’t consider himself a star?! – Bruce praised him, gushing.

- That’s why I’m an artist! – his cousin said, grinning and emphatically – I’m not a star because I’m handsome but because of my talent, because of my sense of the dramatic and because of my preparedness and good voice! – he laughed – And I like to be an artist, more than to be a celebrity. Not every celebrity’s talented, and I don’t even like that word, and it doesn’t even have so much value like the word artist.

- But he’s at least already developing! For a while, he wasn’t even ready to give autographs! – the other man said to his wife, funnily.

- He still doesn’t agree to take joint photos – Delilah grinned.

- Why? – Allisha wondered.

- They don’t even say hello to me, they just immediately, as soon as they come up to me, begin with asking me if they can take a picture with me. I even countenance this brutishness, on the other hand, I don’t countenance that they wanna use me as a proof. I say to them “not now”, or say to them “Hello, nice to meet you”, and hug or kiss them, but that’s all. They can still be happy that I was kind to them and a star touched them, at least who are really my fans, don’t even mind that there’s no proof – Laurence finished, laughing.

The others laughed with him, and then reflected about what he said.

- Then that’s why you didn’t give autographs? – his cousin marveled.

- And because of my shyness – the other man laughed – I hated it when they came up to me!

              This visit went well. At least its end was good, so Laurence cheerfully started home with his daughter.

At home, the dinner was ready because Gina busied herself by cooking what she likes to do.

For their daughter’s sake, they were having dinner with the three of them in the living room, but last time, they peacefully parted, and they cheerfully sat down to eat now too, so this time the morale wasn’t so tense.

- We’re gonna go back to L. A. the day after tomorrow, and Dad’s gonna go to Pittsburgh – it came into the woman’s head - Pack what you wanna take along ‘cause you’re gonna spend most of the time there – she said to Delilah.

              Next day, the man took the little girl to the zoo and to the amusement park to make up for the forthcoming weekdays even in advance, what she was going to be spending with her mother instead of him, which made the woman being ready to stay home, and then she went shopping with one of her girlfriends.

              After the first week, her husband hadn’t gone home yet, and then he didn’t go home on the next weekend either because they were making headway with the filming so fast that they thought they were going to be ready some days later, and it really happened this way.

Laurence wasn’t spending the first day in Los Angeles, checking houses but he was spending it with the girl.

- Till when are you gonna defer looking at the houses?! You haven’t even taken a look at one house! In the end, you’re gonna wait for so long that you meet somebody before you move, and we’ll be like who live in an open marriage! If it comes out, people even believe it, or they believe that you’re cheating me! Can you imagine how humiliating it would be for both of us?! – Gina clashed, shouting.

- This is only the first day yet. Who said I wasn’t gonna start to check houses from tomorrow? – Laurence expanded his arms indignantly – I haven’t met with my daughter for weeks! How can you think that houses should be more important than her?!

- But you’ve got to spend the whole day with her?! You took her to walk the dogs, you took her to the playground and to the candy shop too!

- And you’ve been with her for weeks! What would you do if you two wouldn’t have met for weeks?!

- Sorry, I didn’t think of it…

- Calm down, I’ve already decided earlier to start to look at the houses already tomorrow!

His wife assuaged a bit. It upset her that she saw the man again who was going to leave her, and it hurt her when she saw him. She wanted to see the back of him as soon as possible, to get used to his lack as soon as possible.

- Can I go to check the houses, too? – Delilah appeared who heard the last sentence.

It came into her mother’s head then that she shouldn’t have shouted because she could hear it.

- Tomorrow, you’ve got to go to school – she said kindly.

- But after that! – the little girl said.

- Why do you wanna look at houses?

- I’m also gonna live there, too, not only here! And till now, I was with you every day, and Dad just came home today!

- You guys were together all day today too!

- But we haven’t been meeting for weeks!

The woman gave it up, and went upstairs, to her room. She already slept in Delilah’s room, and her husband slept in that bedroom which was theirs till then, in exchange for he was going to move.

              Next day, Laurence started to visit the houses all day, and after school, went home for the little girl who joined him. He let her also telling her idea, and promised her to take note of it when he would choose – Anyway, he should make her side with him because Gina’s behavior was so much fluctuating that who knew what her mood would be like during the hearing, and maybe she would fight out him being allowed to meet with her more rarely, but if their daughter would so much cotton to him, she could fight out her mother’s letting her meet with her father oftener in spite of this – he thought.

Gina had a little role in a series, there, in California, but when she was filming, the man took Delilah along to look at the houses after school, and when she had completed writing her homework.

In the end, Laurence found a house in Hollywood but the neighborhood was only like Los Angeles.

- You could move to Hollywood soon, too, now when you’ve played in so many movies and series, as an addition, you just had a leading role in one of the short films – he said to Langston when the boy went to take a look at the house when he had moved in it, too. It was already December, the new short film had also come out, and they also watched it in his son’s house.

- Yeah, and I just had a freaking little role in one of the episodes of a series – Langston answered cheerlessly.

His father was taken aback by his reaction. Until then, he didn’t bear it that way.

- Did anything happen? – the man asked with his head on the side.

His son was considering whether he should tell him.

- Not long ago, I asked some relatives about what’s up with Montana… - he said tensely.

- And what did they say? – Laurence’s voice was mournful because he still couldn’t make peace with her.

- She stopped porn already a long time ago ‘cause she repented very much. She continued studying, and learned to dance, too. On the other hand, now, besides exotic dance, she does striptease for a living, in an infamous club in Texas…

His father was considering, startled, whether he should have kept in touch with her, and he was considering whether he should contact her now when he knew it – Striptease is still better than porn, as an addition, besides it, she also had a decent job, but she still lived as a shameless bitch. If his father would have been alive yet, he would have spoken to him about her stopping that immoral work, and they would have made peace – he thought – But he couldn’t avert her from doing this, like he couldn’t avert her from doing porn either…

- I thought it would do you good if you made peace with her now when you’re divorcing and you live here, mostly alone with the dogs; that was why I checked it. But at least it came out that you did it well that you still don’t keep in touch with her – the boy said.

- One day she might amend her way of life, and then we take her back to our lives. It seems she’s starting to amend her way of life – the man tried to comfort himself too.

- To me, it’s like she puts acting and dance to shame, too… Porn and striptease are art’s perverse versions… - Langston said in disgust – But maybe you’re right. The next step might be her doing normal dance only – he tried to comfort him, too – She really seems to be going in the right direction.

His father smiled at him.

- Thank you for asking about it because of me and you’re trying to comfort me – he said gratefully – At least I know that I have the reason to cherish the hope… - he reflected with downcast eyes – I haven’t seen her for more than five years already, and haven’t even talked to her, but she hasn’t written to me and hasn’t called me, either… I don’t even know how she’s looking now, what her hair is like, I don’t know if her face has changed… It seems like it was even more time. Bad periods seem to be longer, and I’ve been missing her already for more than a half decade. I don’t miss her bad self but I miss it when I haven’t known yet what she is like, and when it wasn’t visible what she is like… But if I contacted her again, I would indicate by it that I accept what she’s doing.

At least if they wouldn’t have talked about what she was doing, and they would have lived in peace – it came into his head after it – And if they would have quarreled, that would be only bad, too…

- Yes, and it would also come out. They said that it’s also on the internet what she does now and where she does it. You would also do harm to your reputation in the future too, if you kept in touch with her again – his son said disapprovingly.

As if he would have heard Hattie – it came into Laurence’s head – She constantly dealt with his reputation, although she only did it because of his career… And it was like Langston discouraged what his sister was doing, more than him, while he’s her father and he’s older than him.

- It has never come into your head to contact her? – the man asked the question.

- No – the boy said angrily.

Laurence didn’t count on this hard answer.

He was considering why his son was so dismissive in connection with his sister - And he’s still young; for him, time doesn’t go so fast like for him, so he could have missed Montana even more than him. But ballet is a more serious occupation than acting, it’s for more serious and compliant people… - he thought.

- We haven’t seen her since she was a teenager, and she’s already in her mid-twenties. Aren’t you even curious about what adult she became? – he still asked wonderingly.

- She was almost twenty years old when we met last time, and now she’s just five years older – Langston answered loosely – I think she hasn’t changed much. You can see it by striptease too…

- Six years have passed since she was nineteen… - the man said emphatically – And striptease is still better than porn, especially that she already has a normal job beside it, too. You’ve also said that this can be a sign that she’s starting to amend her way of life. Or you didn’t mean it, just wanted to comfort me? – he finished strictly.

- She’s changed but not too much. I think it’ll come out by her next step if she changes or not. It’ll come out if she stops doing striptease and if she becomes for example a nude model. For the time being, it seems she always needs such work wherein she can expose her body… - his son said furiously and in disgust – It’s not normal, I think she should go to a psychiatrist – he finished worryingly.

- What did she say, why did she stop doing porn? – his father asked, reflecting.

- They didn’t pay enough to her, and she didn’t become so famous like she wanted to be – the boy answered disapprovingly – She also said she didn’t counsel doing porn to anybody, and it was necessary to think twice if somebody still chose this.

It seemed she really changed, and became more mature – Laurence thought, smiling.

- Then she’s surely paid mostly by striptease, and that was why she chose it. She’s payed more, especially this way that she did porn before, so she also became famous… - he said mournfully after it.

Langston was like he didn’t even hear it.

- And what about prostitution? – he asked furiously.

- That was already a long time ago. She has become much more mature since then.

- She still always uses her nude body for living…

- Not always. You also said that she did exotic dance for her living, too. She’s surely not paid for it every weekday so she needs such work too, which pays more – the man said emphatically.

- Now it sounded like you didn’t discourage striptease…

- Maybe it sounded like that but you know that it’s not true.

              They were also talking about Christmas and New Year’s Eve, and then his son had gone home.

His father was considering about which Christmas was the worst for him, the year before last when they spent the holidays without his father for the first time because of his death, last year when they started taking a break with Gina, or this year when they were already divorcing, and he got to know that Montana still hadn’t changed completely. And then it came into his head that he at least got to know that it seemed she started to amend her way of life somehow or other, so it seemed that one day, they were going to keep in touch again.

              On either day of Christmas, he took Delilah to Hattie’s place where Mike and his family, Langston, Classie and her family went, and the little girl spent the other day with her mother and her relatives. The little girl spent the other day with her mother and her relatives, and Laurence invited Lemuel and his cousins by the side of his father. Who could come of them, took their families along, too.

He spent New Year’s Eve with those of his friends at home who could come. He likes it when he’s the host.

              His daughter was living with his wife nowadays, because her father was one of the chief narrators of a documentary series, and he was also preparing for his next movie which he was one of the co-stars of.

              The movie’s filming started already in May, and he was so busy that he only got to know from his colleagues that one of them read that the club was closed down where Montana worked, because allegedly, it had an almost 200 dollars of arrears to Texas state, and in March, the girl rear ended flushed with wine, consumed multiple of the allowed quantity, and was very much acting up, doing public decency when she was arrested. Later, she could pay the bail, and for the time being, she only spent one night in cells, but a 22-minute video was uploaded to the internet about her arrest, and the public prosecutions wanted to send her to prison for a year because she broke the car that she rammed into.

It served her right – the man thought – He brought shame upon him again. It was grievous when he got to know that the club closed down because he thought he wasn’t going to get to know anymore till when she would continue that work, and didn’t know when to contact her. And then he immediately got to know that she hadn’t changed at all – She lived an as scandalous life as before. Like she hadn’t changed at all since she was a teenager. It seemed she wasn’t going to amend her way of life odd-come-shortly, if she amends her way of life ever – he thought grievously again.

[randomshyperson]

Sorry for your loss - Final Chapter

Summary: When your wife Natasha passes away in a car accident, a part of you dies with her. It takes a few months of mourning for your psychiatrist thinks the best alternative is for you to join a grief group. And there you meet Wanda Maximoff, and learn to live again.

Warnings: (+16) mentions of death, panic attacks and anxiety, grief, self sabotage, mentions of abusive family background, mutual attraction pining, explicit consent, therapeutic conversations about death, self-deprecation, healthy methods of coping with grief, possible triggers about anxiety, domestic Wanda, hurtful behaviors. 

Chapter Warnings: Mention of Smut, Brief Smut.

Tag list: @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @imapotatao // @aimezvousbrahms / @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia // @myperfectlovepoem

Author’s note: I don't know what to say exactly, just good reading, and sorry for any spelling/translation errors. I hope you enjoy the ending, and who knows, maybe a second season?

Read on AO3 || Serie Masterlist here

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Chapter Five - I will love again

You were up early on the weekend.

Since you were going to travel to New Jersey for Wanda's father's wedding anniversary, you didn't want to keep her waiting.

When you arrived at Wanda's house, she was already on her feet, running back and forth through the house, trying to find Tommy's lost toy, who kept crying that he wouldn't travel without it.

"Make yourself at home, I just need to find that bear." She said to you as she opened the door. You placed your only luggage on the floor as you looked around. Billy was watching television, and Tommy was sitting on the kitchen counter, crying.

You walked over to him.

"Hey, Tommy, why are you crying?" You asked stopping beside him, keeping your voice calm so as not to make him more nervous.

"I want my teddy bear!" He cried out between tears.

"Mommy will find it for you." You reply. "What is the name of your teddy bear?"

"Star Lord." Sniffles the boy. Your distraction is working, because he stops crying to talk.

"Wow, that's an incredible name!" You say. "How did you get the Star Lord?"

Tommy sniffles again, wiping his tears with his forearm.

"I got it for my birthday." He counters. "Billy got a skateboard, but Star Lord is cooler."

"Is that so?" You retort with interest in your voice, realizing that Tommy was barefoot and his socks were on the countertop, you show him that you are interested in hearing him talk as you help him finish getting dressed for the trip.

"Yes, it came in a huge, red box." Tommy counted with a smile as he gestured at the size of the object. "And he sleeps with me every night, so I need him to go to Grandpa's house."

"Oh, yes, of course you do." You agree with a smile as you tie the boy's shoelaces. "Do you remember the last place you played with Star Lord?"

Tommy sniffles thoughtfully.

"I don't know." He replies tearfully, you rush to ask about his favorite memory with the bear to avoid him to cry again, and it works.

When you finish tying the child's shoes, you pick him up on your lap as he tells you about the day he took Star Lord swimming, and then you sit him down in the living room next to his brother, and he is distracted enough by the cartoon on the TV to forget about the teddy bear.

Wanda joins you in the living room a minute later, looking nervous and with her hands empty.

"Hey, I think I have an idea." You tell her as you mentally review the things Tommy said. "Finish getting them to the car, I'll go find the bear."

You found it.

Ten minutes after you left the room, inside the pool.

Wanda couldn't hold back her laughter when you arrived in front of the car with your wet clothes up to pool height.

"Your idea was to get into the pool instead of using the cleaner to reach the bear?" She teased as soon as you handed her the toy. You laughed awkwardly, watching her give the bear to Tommy and seeing the boy celebrate excitedly. "You're not getting in my car wet like that."

You laugh, and then you have an idea. Approaching Wanda with open arms, you see her raise her finger in warning, but you are already hugging her with wet clothes, making her laugh.

The joke only ends because Pietro is parking the car in front of the house next, looking at you both curiously.

"Should I let dad know we're going to be late?" He teases putting his sunglasses up. You let go of Wanda as both of your giggles slowly stop, the two of you looking like children who have been caught up to mischief. "Come on girls, we have a road ahead of us."

"Shut up Pietro." Wanda grumbled humorously, starting to push you into the house by the shoulders. "Watch the boys while we get changed."

"Yes, ma'am." He retorted wryly as he took off his seat belt and got out of the car. You let Wanda push you inside.

Upstairs, you had smiles on your faces as she searched for clothes that would fit you.

"Are you sure it isn't better if I grab something I brought in my suitcase?" You ask distractedly as Wanda rummages through the closets.

"I don't want you to be one change of clothes short, I don't know what we'll end up doing over there." Wanda retorted. "And don't worry about it."

Wanda eventually handed you a set of very soft sweatshirts and underwear. You smiled in appreciation, looking away from the clothes in your hand to the woman in front of you.

As you turned toward the bathroom, Wanda spoke.

"You can stay."

Swallowing dryly, and ignoring the unregulated beating of your heart you turned to her again, one eyebrow raised not sure you had understood correctly.

Wanda sighed heavily, as if she was gathering the courage to say it again. But her gaze said it all. She was inviting you to change in front of her.

You felt your face heat up, but you gulped dryly, forcing yourself to reason correctly.

"I... I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" Wanda retorted in defiance, and you let out a breathless laugh. She seemed to misunderstand your reaction, because her expression immediately fell. "Oh, you don't want to. Damn it, I..."

"What?" you interrupted quickly. "No, Wanda. I want to." You confess half breathlessly. "I really do."

"Oh." 

You shift your weight between your feet, feeling your stomach turn with the way Wanda looks at you. 

"But not like this." You say, swallowing dryly to confess correctly. You approach Wanda slowly as you speak. "Not in a hurry." Wanda breathes heavily, leaning back against the cabinet. You stop walking just inches from her body. "I want to be with you, with enough time to kiss every inch of your skin.” You confess again her lips. “Touch every spot that will make you lose control and scream my name."

"Fuck." Wanda gasped against your mouth, almost near enough to touch while closing her eyes. 

Ignoring the tightening sensation at the tip of your stomach, you fought your baser instincts and pulled away, sighing.

"Let's hurry before your brother comes to get us."

You smiled at Wanda, ignoring the urge to kiss her. She just nodded, trying to normalize her breathing. You took advantage of her lack of reaction to turn around and walk towards the bathroom. You had better get out of there soon, because you feel that you couldn't resist that woman again.

//-//

Tommy and Billy were singing in the back seat as you drove to New Jersey. You laughed at the scene, thinking they were adorable.

Your gaze was watchful on the road, following Pietro's car to his father's house.

When Wanda began to murmur the song, you looked at her for a moment. Absolutely stunning, with her red hair flying in the wind, the smile in the corner on her lips. The sunlight making her eyes sparkle.

Turning your attention forward because Wanda caught you looking, you bit back a smile, feeling your heart race a little. But neither of you commented, and you didn't care that Wanda was looking at you now.

//-//

When you arrived, you whistled impressed at Erik's residence. It was practically a mansion, but really it was just a very well built summer house. The neighborhood was very nice too. Wanda smiled playfully at you when she noticed your reaction.

The boys ran out of the car, excited to hug their grandfather who was already waiting for them at the door. They also hugged Charles, who was a short, balding man, very friendly.

"Grandpa, can we go ride the horses?" Tommy asked excitedly, and the man laughed lightly. 

"Go wash your hands and get something to eat first okay, boy?" Erik said to the boy, ruffling his hair.

The child agreed, entering the house along with his brother and his cousin, who had gotten out of the cars shortly after.

You were unpacking the bags from the car after parking and felt your breath catch when Wanda picked up one of the bags and caressed your hand with her fingers as you handed it to her. She smiled innocently, passing you to walk toward the door, and you cleared your throat before closing the trunk and following her.

"You must be Y/N." Erik greeted you as soon as you came to the door. "It's very nice to finally meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, Erik." You replied with a smile. "And you too, Charles."

The man smiled, giving you room to pass him and enter the house. Wanda was standing in the living room next to Pietro and Monica, who had their suitcases on the floor.

"Papa, which rooms are empty?" She asked the man who had entered behind you.

"You can occupy any one upstairs." Erik warned closing the door as he and Charles entered.

You accompanied the group upstairs. Wanda placed the boys' backpacks in one of the bunk rooms, since the children always slept together. 

"You can have the room down the hall." She said, showing you the direction. "Next to mine."

She whispered the last part like a secret. You wanted to ignore how your stomach churned at the suggestion. Pietro and Monica passed you both, the man gave you a playful look, but made no comment. They would be in the room across from yours and next to the children's.

You guessed that the other door at the other end of the hall belonged to Erik and Charles

After putting your suitcase on the bed, you left the room. Pietro opened the door at the same moment.

"Come on, Y/N, I'm going to give you a full tour of the Maximoff residence." He announced excitedly and you giggled, following him around the house.

//-//

The Maximoff residence was much larger than you thought it was. There were even stables and a large wooded area that was part of the place, but Pietro didn't take you there, he just pointed you in the direction. You eventually discovered that the place used to be a simple farm, inherited from Pietro and Wanda's paternal grandparents, and when Erik married Charles, they renovated the place with money from the Xavier family, who were British and had a fortune built up in the vineyard area.

Pietro led you back to the kitchen when he finished showing you the property, patting you on the shoulder as he sat down on the kitchen counter, grabbing the jar of candy on the counter.

"The guests will be here soon, Pietro, get down from there." Warned Erik noticing his son's position. He was in the kitchen too, finishing sorting out some of the appetizers. During the tour, you noticed the decorations set up in the gardens, some tables and chairs and party decorations.

"Yes, papa." Grumbled Pietro as he obeyed. He reached over to accept the tray of food his father handed him.

"Take that outside please." Erik asked and you moved to get out of the way of Pietro, who gave you a wry smile as he passed, making you laugh slightly.

"Can I help too?" You asked noticing that there were still things to be carried.

"Thank you, dear, you are very kind." Erik said as he handed you one of the trays. You nodded and then turned around.

The garden was really nicely decorated, you noticed now that you were up close, placing your tray on one of the tables. There was also a small stage, which you imagined was meant for Erik and Charles to repeat their wedding vows. You smiled, remembering how your marriage to Natasha had gone. It was just nostalgic to think of her now, and it didn't make you unhappy anymore.

"I think you're all set now." Erik said behind you, arriving with a tray and placing it on the table next to yours. Pietro who had left earlier, was stealing one of the candies and received a disapproving look from his father. "Really, boy?"

Pietro laughed, raising his hands in surrender.

"I'm hungry, papa." He playfully retorted and you laughed at the interaction.

"Go help the ladies with the kids." Erik commands with a grimace, and Pietro laughs as he walks away. When he leaves, you feel slightly anxious about being alone with Wanda's father, but his posture is friendly. "I haven't had a chance to talk to you properly, Y/N. Would you like to take a walk with me before the party?"

You ignore the nervous feeling in your stomach when you agree. And Erik takes one last look at the decorations before leading the way.

//-//

A few minutes of walking later, where Erik asked you several questions about your life, your job, your age, who you lived with, that sort of thing, you reached a plantation area. You imagined it to be the vineyards of the property.

You could see the manor house in the distance, and the backyards, and a lake many meters away. The landscape was breathtaking.

"It's beautiful here." You comment beside him.

"Yes." Erik agrees with a smile, also looking at the scenery as you do. "I enjoyed your conversation, you are as lovely as Wanda usually tells us."

The comment makes your cheeks warm, the image of Wanda talking about you makes your heart soar. Erik seems to appreciate the way you react to it, smiling gently as he adds, "It's nice to know she's found someone nice to love."

You swallow dryly, glancing quickly at the man next to you, but he has his gaze on the landscape. You feel a warmth in your chest, mixed with embarrassment and happiness.

"Thank you, Erik." You say clumsily. 

"For what?"

"For accepting me here I guess." You retort with a smile. "For having me into your home. And well, for saying those things about me and Wanda." You say and he makes an understanding noise through his mouth. You are silent for a moment, until he speaks again.

"You know, when Magda, their mother, passed away, I thought I would never love anyone again.." Erik tells nostalgically. He keeps looking at the field in front of you, but you stare at him, attentive to his words. "But then I met Charles. And well, it did. It's different from what it was before. And I wouldn't change it for anything."

You nodded in understanding, letting the words echo in your head. You also think about how Agatha said you could move on. There was no problem in loving again, as intensely as before.

"I figured I'd be uncomfortable talking about someone marrying my daughter, but here we are." Erik comments humorously a moment later, making you chuckle awkwardly. "I guess it must be the way you look at her. You look like a lovesick puppy. "

You scratch your neck awkwardly, looking at the scenery, making Erik laugh at your blurriness.

"Don't get upset, I'm just teasing you." He comments with a smile, patting you on the back. You laugh clumsily.

"Do you guys have a garden around here?" You ask trying to change the subject, just as you notice the glass structures in the distance, capped by the vineyard. You figured if you turned around you would find your way to them.

"Oh, yes." Erik confirms. "Charles loves gardening. We have two greenhouses over that way. Would you like to see them?"

"Yes." You confirm with a smile. "But it can be after the party."

"Oh yes, I should get back and welcome the guests." Erik agrees as he checks his watch. You start walking back to the area of the house next.

//-//

You meet a lot of people at the party. It's a little overwhelming, because you really didn't expect Erik to invite so many people, and although you're glad that they had so many friends, your anxiety has increased a little. You were smiling politely at two ladies who said they were Charles' college friends while trying to pay attention to the story they were telling when Pietro rescued you.

"I need to steal my sister-in-law for a second ladies." He said and you widened your eyes. He only realized the mistake of his words when he noticed the looks on the women's faces in front of him. " Shit, I don’t mean like she got married to Wanda... I..."

You snuck out from behind Pietro when the ladies started attacking him with questions about the wedding, and when the ceremony had taken place and why the family wasn't called. You took the opportunity to escape when Pietro was convincing the ladies that you were not Wanda's wife, and that there was no secret wedding.

Walking over to one of the far tables, you frown in disbelief as you watch Luna run under the food table, clearly looking for a place to hide from her cousin, who is looking around a few feet away.

You crouch down, pulling the towel up to speak to the child.

"Luna, honey, maybe that's not the best place to play." You tell her with a smile. She looks around.

"Sorry, Aunt Y/N." She asks. "I'm hiding from Billy."

"Oh, is that so?" You ask extending your hand to her. She accepts, and you help her stand, taking care that she doesn't hit her head on the table. "Do you remember the path we took when we first got here? Try to hide behind that tall statue, I'm sure Billy won't find you."

"Wow, that's right, Auntie. Thank you." She mumbles, leaving with her head down next, watching for any sign of her cousin. You smiled, knowing that everyone at the party would get a glimpse of the children playing if she stood where you spoke.

You noticed that the two women who were talking to Pietro looked at you, and not wanting to be dragged back into that conversation, you made your way back to the house.

Bumping into Wanda on the way, you giggled.

"There you are." You remark.

"Where were you?" Wanda retorts with a mixture of curiosity and humor, noticing your "escape mode" posture.

"Well, apparently all of your father's friends like to meet everyone, so I've spent the last thirty minutes being introduced to everyone at the party."

Wanda gave a pout of pity.

"Sorry, dear." She says and you smile awkwardly, feeling your cheeks flush. "I'm looking for the boys, they need to change for the suits." 

"I saw Billy in the gardens." You tell her as you gesture briefly in the direction. "I'll go find Tommy for you."

Wanda smiles, biting her lips. You nod but when you make mention of moving away, she holds your forearm and moves forward, depositing a kiss on your cheek. 

"Thank you, sweetheart." She whispered, smiling mischievously at you before she turned away and left the kitchen. You bit your lip, feeling your heart racing. You didn't understand why Wanda was teasing you, but you weren't complaining.

//-//

Non Readers Pov

Wanda laughed affectionately when Billy launched himself onto her lap as soon as she found him in the backyard.

"Luna, dear, your mother is calling you too." Warned the red-haired woman to her niece who nodded turning toward the direction her aunt pointed. 

"Mommy can I play after I change my clothes?" Asked the boy as the woman carried him back to the house.

"Of course honey, but you have to be careful, okay? You can't get your suit dirty."

Just before she reached the entrance, someone called her name, causing Wanda to turn her head curiously.

"Sweetie, I need to ask you something." It was Ruth Eisenhardt, a nasty distant cousin of Wanda's known for gossiping, and lots of it, about all her relatives. "I just heard from Aunt Susan that you are dating that pretty girl you brought over." 

Wanda felt her face heat up, but kept her expression impassive. Before she could add anything else, the woman was speaking again.

"Of course we are all happy for you, but when I went to share the good news with Uncle Jeff, he said that Pietro had already denied this affair. Now I'm left not knowing if you're really going out with that beefcake."

Wanda let out an awkward giggle, frowning slightly at the way her cousin spoke.

"We're not exactly together, cousin." The redhead replied. "But that's not really your business."

Ruth grimaced in surprise, but then her expression changed to one of malice.

"You know, I'm just confirming it. Because after all, we don't have pretty things like that lying around in New Jersey."

Wanda clenched her jaw. Ruth was exactly the kind of girl who had a mania for taking what didn't belong to her.

"Cousin, don't flirt with her." Wanda said. "I'll only warn you this once."

Ruth giggled, surprised at the reaction. But Wanda didn't continue the subject, turning and continuing toward the entrance of the house.

"Mom what's flirt?" Billy asked next, drawing Wanda's attention away from her own not-so-pleasant thoughts about someone taking what was hers.

"It's a way adults talk, honey." Wanda explained, biting her lips thoughtfully briefly. "When they want to be more than friends."

"Like best friends?"

Wanda laughs briefly, denying it.

"No, Billy. Like lovers."

Billy makes a noise of agreement. "Why can't Aunt Ruth flirt with Aunt Y/N?"

Wanda sighs lightly, forcing a friendly expression so as not to confuse her son.

"She can."

"But you told her..."

"I know." Wanda interrupts with red cheeks. She takes a deep breath, smiling at her son. "Can I ask you something sweetie?" Billy nods in agreement. "If mommy started dating someone, would you be upset?"

Billy frowns, denying it.

"Mommy, you want to date Aunt Y/N don't you?"

Wanda's eyes widen in surprise.

"Where did that one come from?" she asked.

"You didn't like it when Aunt Ruth flirted with Daddy either, I remember Aunt Monica's birthday." He tells, and Wanda sighs slightly, remembering when she caught Ruth complimenting her husband as she ran her hands through her hair, and Wanda might have gotten a little carried away by accidentally flipping a wine glass in her cousin's lap. On the way home, when the twins asked, she said that she was upset with the way Ruth spoke to their father, and now Billy was able to understand everything. "And now you don't want Aunt Ruth to talk to Aunt Y/N like that." He concluded as if it was obvious. Wanda smiled as she went upstairs, careful not to trip on the steps with Billy on her lap. "Mommy, if you date Aunt Y/N will she move in with us?"

"I don't know dear." Wanda replied with a shy smile. 

"If she lives with us, will you let her sleep in my room?"

Wanda laughed, looking at Billy curiously.

"And why is that?"

"Because she knows how to play dragon. And also tell fairy tales." He says counting on his fingers. "And she also helps Tommy with his headache, so she can sleep on our rug and when he wakes up at night, she helps him."

Wanda smiles fondly, shaking her head slightly.

"Those are very good reasons indeed." She says. "But I think Y/N would like to sleep in a bed, no? The floor is uncomfortable."

Billy looks thoughtful and Wanda laughs briefly as she sets him down on the floor, already inside his room. She helps him out of his clothes to put on his party suit that is already on the bed.

"I can sleep in your bed mommy, and then Aunt Y/N sleeps in mine next to Tommy so he won't be alone."

Wanda laughs again, denying with her head. She bends down to button her son's shirt.

"Tell you what. Y/N sleeps in my bed, and if Tommy feels bad, she goes up to his room, how's that sound?"

//-//

Reader pov

"I think it sounds amazing." You spoke as you entered the room, a mischievous smile on your lips. Wanda startled slightly, surprised that you arrived at that moment, but she smiled shyly as she looked at you before turning her attention back to her son. 

"Yay, mommy!" Billy spoke excitedly. Wanda sat him down on the bed again, helping him put on his shoes. You guided Tommy gently by the shoulders to the bed, and as soon as he had a look at the suit he began to undress.

"I didn't know you were going to live with us, Aunt Y/N." Tommy comments as he removes his sneakers.

"I didn't know either." You retort, biting back a smile at the sight of Wanda's reddening cheeks. "I guess your mother forgot to invite me."

Wanda mumbles at you to shut up, making you smile.

"Mommy, you have to let Aunt Y/N know that she is going to live with us now." Billy said making you cross your arms, and turn to Wanda, joining in on the joke.

"Yes, Wanda! You need to let me know about these things." You say with false seriousness, and Wanda rolls her eyes in amusement, finishing putting on Billy's shoes and getting up to face you.

"Y/n, honey, you're going to move in with me when we get back home, okay?" Wanda asks in the same tone. You bite back a smile, ignoring how your heartbeat has quickened. You can't help but look at Wanda adoringly however, and her expression goes from playful to shy in microseconds.

"Okay, Wands. I'll love living with you." You say to her next, sounding slightly affected. The twins let out an exclamation of excitement, and break the bubble you are in. You clear your throat slightly as you turn your attention back to them, looking away from Wanda.

"Wow, you guys look great." You comment as you see the boys properly dressed next. The suits are very nice indeed.

"You can go back to the party, but be careful not to get your suits dirty. No playing in the dirt!" Wanda warns the boys, who are already running excitedly outside. 

"Okay, I'll go get ready too." You say next, thinking to check your cell phone as well, since you haven't turned it on since you left New York. "See you at the party?"

Wanda nods in agreement and you turn to leave.

At the door she stops you, pulling you by the forearm lightly and raising her hand to your neck, then bringing your lips together.

You both sigh and you feel your whole body tense up and heat up all at once. Wanda pulls away in the next moment, breathing as out of rhythm as you do.

You want to ask her why she did this now, but you think the question can wait until later, because she brings your lips together again, in a kiss far less innocent than before. Wanda closes the door with one hand, and with the other she pushes you against the wood. 

You gasp, letting your tongue run across her lip, and she gives you passage.

Her taste intoxicates your senses quickly, your hands moving up to her waist as hers move to your hair, deepening the kiss. You both gasp for air against each other's mouths, unable to separate. 

Panting, you feel your head spin as Wanda moves her tongue against yours, slow and sensual, and you can't help but squeeze her waist tightly, enjoying the feeling of her sighing against your lips.

You switch positions next moment, pressing Wanda against the wood of the door, your knee coming up between her legs. 

"Oh." Wanda moans breathlessly breaking the kiss. You move your kisses down her jaw to her neck, sucking on the skin and releasing just before marking. Your fingers play with the hem of her blouse, and Wanda brings your head up, kissing you again.

You press your body against her, wanting her to be touching you everywhere. The sensation makes you breathless, and hot in all the right places, causing you to moan.

You think you could kiss Wanda forever if she'd let you. The feeling of having her in your mouth is the best you have ever felt.

There are noises of footsteps coming from the stairs, and you both sigh when you hear them. It's Monica coming up with Luna, who is chatting animatedly. It's just what you need to snap back to reality, and slow down the kiss. 

You keep your foreheads together, and your hands around Wanda until the sound becomes distant, signaling that Monica has entered their bedroom with Luna.

You let out a giggle, and Wanda follows you. You look just like two teenage girls making out in secret. When you stop laughing, you kiss her again. Calmer this time. Before you let go, she bites your lip, tugging lightly, and making you gasp before letting go.

"Come on, go change." She commands, pushing you lightly. You smile because she keeps her grip against your blouse as she tells you to leave.

"It is you who are keeping me here, Maximoff." You tease with a smile. Wanda smiles too, and steals a kiss from you before letting go. You stumble backwards out of the room, grinning like an idiot, but you don't care, because Wanda looks at you just the same.

//-//

Wanda looked stunning in her party dress. You wanted to kiss her again, but you knew that if you did you would smear her lipstick, and she would have a lot of inconvenient questions ahead of her. So you just smiled, and breathlessly confessed how beautiful she looked, enjoying her flushed cheeks.

By the time you joined the party, the guests were arranging themselves at the correct places, and you joined a conversation circle with Wanda at your side, greeting a few more people. 

As the sun set, Erik and Charles signaled that the ceremony was about to begin.

//-//

It was all very beautiful. 

Maybe you cried between one confession and another, but everyone was emotional, so no one really cared.

Your cell phone had lots of pictures on it when you came back to the house, after saying goodbye to the guests who left when the party was over. You were holding Tommy by the hand, while Billy went with his mother, and the boys looked very tired.

"Let's go to bed, okay?" Wanda warned the kids as they followed her upstairs.

Erik wanted to open a bottle of wine, so after the kids were in bed, all the adults were outside on the balcony. Wanda sat very close to you, and you resisted the urge to put your arm around her.

"I guess I'll never get used to parties." Erik then comments, smiling nostalgically, making the group smile.

"I hope you're looking forward to the twenty-year anniversary one, papa." Pietro humorously retorts, and Erik laughs, looking at his husband tenderly.

"I look forward to it."

You smiled at the passionate way the couple looked at each other. You wondered what it must be like to stay married for so long. 

"I know we are all tired, but I had something to tell you." Erik then says, exchanging a look with Charles before continuing. "It's about the farm."

"What about the farm?" Pietro asked curiously.

"It 's yours."

Pietro frowns in confusion, looking at Wanda, who has the same look on her face.

"Papa, what?" Wanda asks, and Erik lets out a short laugh.

"You know I've always wanted to remodel this place, ever since you were kids." He recounts. "And Charles and I finally did it. But now we're old. And you two have your whole lives ahead of you, and well, you are our family. So Charles and I agreed that the house should belong to you both."

Wanda and Pietro exchange incredulous laughter.

"Papa, what? Are you sure?" Wanda asks looking from her brother to her father and stepfather. The older men just smile and the next moment they are hugging their children. You and Monica exchange looks of amusement. 

"So, does this mean we're moving?" Monica comments once everyone is seated, and elicits a giggle from the group.

"Let's save all this serious talk for tomorrow, shall we?" Erik asks with a smile. "Today, let's just enjoy the stars."

"Someone is feeling romantic." Charles jokes making the group laugh. 

"Papa, tell us some of your stories." Pietro asked with a smile, and Erik sighed, taking on a thoughtful expression.

"Um, let's see." He begins. "Have I ever told you about what happened in Budapest...?"

//-//

It was quite late when you and Wanda were finally alone, after Charles and Erik came in, you stayed talking to Pietro and Monica for a few more minutes, until they walked in as well.

You smiled at Wanda as she leaned back in her armchair to face you cross-legged, and you mimicked her position.

"Hey." She called out to you with a smile. 

"Hey."

"Did you enjoy the party?"

"Yes." You assured her tenderly. "It was pretty good actually."

Wanda nodded slightly, her gaze falling momentarily to your lips.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything you want, Wanda." You retort, making her smile.

The redhead looks intently at you.

"Did you mean it?" She asks and you blink in confusion. "About moving in with me."

You feel your cheeks heat up, but you smile.

"You're not even going to ask me out first, eh?"

Wanda laughed, looking away with flushed cheeks. You swallowed dryly, lifting your hand to turn her face toward you again, stroking her cheek lightly. God, Wanda was beautiful. Her bright green eyes looking back at you, the way her hair fell around her face, every part of her. 

"Don't you think we're happening too fast?" Wanda asks insecurely, you don't put your hand down, enjoying the feeling of her skin. 

"It depends." You answer letting your gaze wander to her, your free hand searching for hers in your lap, twining your fingers together.

"On what?"

"If you care about me..." You whisper as you bring your faces closer together, stopping when your lips are almost touching, and you and Wanda both close your eyes in anticipation. " As much as I care about you."

You kiss Wanda before she responds. Sweetly and softly. The sensation makes you smile against her lips, and you ignore the urge to deepen the kiss to pull away.

"Is that your way of saying you're in love with me?" Wanda teases half breathlessly a minute later, her tone playful and confident, but her rosy cheeks give away how affected she is. You think she's irresistible.

You laugh lightly, brushing a strand of hair from her face before looking into her eyes.

"I'm in love with you." You confess simply, watching her blink in surprise and amazement. "So, you still think it's too fast?"

Wanda smiles, denying it, and then approaches you.

"I'm in love with you too" She confesses as a secret against your lips. You feel your stomach rumble with nervousness and excitement, but you don't say anything else, because Wanda kisses you again. She asks for passage with her tongue a second later, making you sigh.

You hold your mouths together in a passionate kiss for long minutes, panting against each other' lips as Wanda moves to sit on your lap with her hands on your neck while your hands move up to her waist. You feel hot and bothered, squeezing her skin as if you want to merge with it. It is only when your kisses begin to move down to her collarbone that Wanda gasps saying that you two should go upstairs.

She moves off your lap, breaking the kiss, and you bite your lips, chasing her mouth again. Standing up, Wanda slides her tongue against yours one last time, making your head spin, before she pulls away, smiling at you as she pulls you by the hand into the house.

She signals with her finger for you to be quiet as you enter, and you swallow dryly as you observe the way her eyes are dark.

Getting to your room seems to take forever, especially since you can barely breathe, but finally you arrive.

Wanda locks the door after you enter. And then the atmosphere changes, because you both know what is about to happen.

She smiles shyly at you and you hold out your hand to her, leading her to sit on the bed beside you.

You exchange a glance before you sigh softly, slowly moving closer to her face. When you kiss her, much more tenderly and gently than any other time, Wanda melts.

She raises her hands to your neck, deepening the kiss as she falls onto the bed and takes you with her. You kiss her firmly, swirling your tongue around hers slowly, making her shiver. 

There is no rush in what you are about to do, and you certainly want to enjoy every second of it.

You rest your weight against Wanda, enjoying the feeling of having her beneath you, and the sound that escapes her throat. Your mouth separates from hers only for you to move your kisses down her collarbone, causing Wanda to close her eyes and sigh.

Your hands reach behind her back to pull down the zipper of her dress. When your fingers make contact with her exposed skin, Wanda bites her lips, entwining her legs together in search of more friction.

Your kisses move down as you pull the dress off her body, Wanda shifting on the bed to help you undress her. You move away from her neck to remove the piece completely, your gaze falling to her exposed skin the next moment. The redhead blushes at your stare, but all you can do is admire. The sight of her bare breasts makes your core throb, and you feel the urge to touch and kiss every inch.

You kiss her again in the next second, but part your mouths again quickly to move your lips down her body.

At the first touch on her breasts, Wanda gasps loudly. You smile, controlling the urge to tell her not to be so loud, but you are distracted by the growing heat in your core when you suck on her nipple and she whimpers, bringing her hand to your hair to keep you there.

Dividing your attention between the nipples, you kiss, bite, and suck the sensitive skin, keeping enough of it in your mouth for the skin to be marked red, which elicits a hearty moan from Wanda.

As your kisses begin to descend again, Wanda's body tenses. You kiss at the height of her navel before looking up, and already find her looking up at you with darkened eyes, biting her lip.

"Everything okay?" You ask in a sigh, trying to reason properly out of the bubble of lust. 

Wanda's hesitation causes you to raise your face back toward her again, keeping your hands by her side so as not to fall against her body.

"What's wrong?" You ask gently, trying to find any sign of discomfort. 

"Nothing." She says with a shy smile. "It's just... it's the first time I... since..."

"Yeah, I know." You interrupt half breathlessly, knowing exactly what she is referring to. "Mine too." You confess, but at this point, you knew she should have guessed it too. You have been grieving partners for quite some time, after all. "Do you want to stop?"

"No." Wanda quickly denies, biting back a smile. "I feel good."

You smile, nodding in agreement.

"Me too." 

You kiss Wanda gently again, but before the kiss gets more heated, you pull away to whisper against her lips. "Let me know if you feel uncomfortable at any time."

Wanda nods, bringing your lips together next.

//-//

When you awake, it is probably the best sleep you have had in months. Wanda is curled up on you, her clothes spread across the room lit by the sunbeams from the window.

You mumble that you have to get up because the children will be up soon, but Wanda says that her father will take care of them, and kisses you until you completely forget where you are.

When you finally get up, and go downstairs for coffee, neither adult comments at all on the way Wanda's hand remains in yours throughout the meal.

//-//

While Wanda is talking to Pietro and Erik about how they are going to organize the inheritance of the farm, and the children are playing in the backyard in front of the veranda, you decide to call your mother.

You end up learning that she got a buyer for your apartment, but you tell her that you would deal with these matters when you get back. After checking email and that sort of thing, you turn off your cell phone again.

Taking one last look at the children, you walked back into the house, catching a small piece of the conversation of the others in the living room about what would be done about Wanda's flower shop, but you didn't intrude. 

"We know a lot of people around here, Wanda." Charles was counting. "I'm sure we'll be able to find a new location for the flower shop."

Wanda looked slightly apprehensive, probably considering all the consequences of the relocation, but she relaxed her posture completely when you entwined your hand with hers.

When the conversation was over, it was decided that the families would move to the farm. Selling the properties in New York would take some time, but they would still move to the city during the vacations. It was going to be a rush, but Erik and Charles were willing to help too.

Since you guys were leaving that afternoon, you went back to your room to pack. And Wanda joined you a moment later, kissing you on the cheek before sitting down on your bed.

" All good?" You asked as you folded your socks.

"Yeah." She confirmed with a smile. "I'm just trying to believe that all this is really happening."

"It's not every day we get a farm, is it?" You joke making her laugh. Wanda bites her lips next, looking at you fondly, and you look away to your bag, feeling your face heat up.

"I forgot to ask you something yesterday." She begins somewhat shyly. You frown slightly, muttering for her to ask. "Are we dating?"

You laugh in surprise, throwing your folded party clothes into your suitcase, before approaching Wanda, raising your hand to her chin.

"What do you think, love?" You ask against her lips, dragging your mouth down her jaw to the height of her ear. "After what you did with your tongue yesterday, you're not going anywhere."

Wanda gasps, clenching her hands in the bed. You smile because you know the memories have hit her all over again. But you turn away next, smiling innocently at the woman in front of you before turning your attention back to the suitcase.

"I don't get a ring?" She teased next, making you laugh briefly. You looked back at the door before advancing against her, kissing her firmly, completely overturning her confident posture. When Wanda sighed against your mouth, you pulled away, and she grumbled, her hand reaching up to grab your belt and pull you back to her, but noises of footsteps made her give up.

Soon the boys came running into the room, talking excitedly about living on the farm and riding every day, and you wanted to laugh at the way Wanda had to disguise how affected she felt by your small make out session to answer her sons' questions.

//-//

After saying goodbye to your hosts with hugs, you sat in the back seat with the boys, because Tommy insisted that he wanted to show you a video game. Wanda drove you to your apartment, and after getting your suitcase from the trunk, you waved goodbye to the boys, and approached the driver's window.

"I'll call you, okay?" You tell her with a smile, Wanda nods, and you kiss her. Tommy and Billy make disgusted noises in the back of the car, and you and Wanda laugh as you part.

Waving to everyone in farewell one last time, you wait for Wanda to leave with the car before you go into the house.

"Kissing girls on the doorstep, heh? Looks like high school all over again." Your mother teases from the kitchen just as you enter. You laugh as you close the door.

"Spying through the kitchen window, Mom? And I thought I was a grown-up." You retort in the same tone as you walk to the kitchen to greet her with a kiss on the forehead, tossing your suitcase on the counter afterwards.

"Are you really dating then?" Your mother asks and you murmur in agreement. She smiles. "I'm so happy, honey. I can't wait to prepare for the wedding."

You roll your eyes humorously, picking up an apple from the countertop.

"We need to talk about your apartment, by the way." She starts again, looking through her briefcase for something. "I've found buyers, and well, I'm already looking at some houses for you, too." She says as you take a seat next to her at the table. "Of course I love having you here, but we both know you can't wait to have a place of your own again."

You sigh lightly.

"Yeah, Mom." You confirm. "About that..."

//-//

"You're late." Agatha remarked as soon as you stumbled into her office. You gave her a lopsided smile, closing the door as you entered.

"Sorry, I had a date and lost track of time."

Agatha raises her eyebrows at you.

"A date, hm? Let's talk about it then."

//-//

You had just deposited Melina's share of the apartment in the bank when your cell phone vibrated.

A message from Bucky, asking if you were coming to therapy with him today, as he was already at the station. You reply with an emoji, and a text saying coming.

//-//

"I am immensely happy for your progress, even though I am upset that you will not be continuing with us." Stephen says to you and Wanda, in your last group session.

"Well, New Jersey has its support groups. But this one is always going to be special." You tell him as you lightly tap his arm. Stephen smiles as he hands you the progress brooches. Wanda has her hand intertwined in yours, and the man in front of you looks at that before commenting.

"You know, I always find it curious the way pairs develop in the group." He comments. "We never ask that the activities be romantic, but still, many of them end up falling in love."

You and Wanda exchange a mixed look of embarrassment and happiness.

"I guess we have you to thank for that." Wanda says next, but Stephen smiles, denying it.

"Not at all. I'm happy for both of you. After all, I always thought you would get along together." He hints last, making you and Wanda laugh softly.

//-//

"I just need to lock up and grab a few last things in the office, and then we can go." Wanda told you when you arrived at the flower shop. The establishment was now empty, as the moving crew had already passed by.

You waited for her in the reception area.

With the key to the flower shop in hand and the last files that were there, Wanda hesitated. You looked at her, standing in the center of the place, eyes watering, and smiled as you approached.

"Everything okay?" You asked as you touched her arms, stroking her to calm her down.

"Yeah." She sighs, looking around one last time before looking back at you. "It just feels like I'm ending something. Like a chapter in my life."

You swallow dryly briefly, nodding.

"Are you scared?"

Wanda smiles.

"Terrified." She confesses. "But I have you, so I know I'll be all right."

You smile, lifting your hands to your neck to kiss her. It's brief and sweet, and it's exactly what you both need to be sure you're doing the right thing.

 "You're a flirt, aren't you Maximoff?" You tease with a smile, and Wanda giggles lightly against your lips.

"And you are breathtaking, love."

You felt your face heat up, kissing Wanda again.

"Are you sure about what we're doing, Wanda?" You let the words escape your anxious brain next. Wanda raised her free hand to your face, caressing your cheek.

" Absolute." She assures. "You are my future."

You swallow dryly, affected by the intensity of the confession. A shy smile escapes your lips in the next moment.

"And you are mine."

[babymetaldoll]

The "Rumple Buttercup" situation (Matthew Gray Gubler/ Reader)

Requested?: Yes!

Hi, I don't know if this is where you take request but I was thinking about a 2nd part to "The devils food cake" chapter about when they think of names they argue about the middle name being rumple (Matthew wants rumple to be the middle name (y/n) doesn't)

Category: Flufflies fluff. Hardcore fluff.  

Summary: Matthew tries to convince his wife to name their first newborn "Rumple Buttercup."

Warnings: Zero. I don't think I even cursed on this one. But you have to know how to handle your fluff.

Word count: 2K

Masterlist

You can read the original one shot here 

A/N: Hello! How is everybody doing this week? Sending love to all my pretty people 💜 I got so excited with this request I made this gif for it ✨

                                         ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The house was oddly silent when (Y/N) walked in. She smelled the fresh baked cookies and... lavender? That was new. The place wasn't a mess when she left the house that morning, but it didn't look like that at all. Someone had been taking care of everything in her absence.

- "Matthew?"- (Y/N) walked in and took a look around. Everything was clean and in perfect order. It didn't loot at all like the house she had left that very same morning.

- "In the kitchen, Bunny!"- he announced with a cheerful voice and (Y/N) followed the delicious smell and the sweet voice of her husband.

- "Welcome back! How was your day with your mom?"

- "Hey! It was good. I had fun"- Matthew smiled at his wife as soon as he watched her walk into the kitchen and opened his arms to greet her with a warm hug.

- "I missed you, Bunny"- he whispered and kissed her lips sweetly, cupping her face with both hands, holding her cheeks, and caressing them with his lips.

- "I missed you too, honey."- (Y/N) murmured and sighed, enjoying the sensation of Matthew's hands on her.

- "And how's my little baby bean?"- he whispered, and his hands traveled from her face to her belly.

- "Baby Gub is kicking a lot today. I think he is having a rave in there."

The way Matthew's heart skipped a beat each time he heard the words "Baby Gub" killed him. He couldn't get over the fact he was going to be a father in four months. He couldn't believe it yet. It was his dream come true.

So, Matthew hummed in response and kissed his wife one more time before looking at her with a big adorable, and goofy smile.

- "I've got you a little surprise,"- he announced and held her hand

- "Really? I noticed you did some cleaning. Is that the surprise?"- (Y/N) asked as Gubler insisted she sat on a couch and helped her taking out her purple Converse.

- "That's part of the surprise,"- Matthew answered with a mysterious smile- "Now stay here and relax for a minute."

- "But no. Wait, stay here too, I missed you," (Y/N) argued, but Gubler just pecked her lips and walked back to the kitchen.

- "It will only be a second, Bunny! Meanwhile, tell me, what did you do with your mom today."

- "She took our baby bean shopping. Can you help me get a million bags from the car later?"

- "Sure!!"- Gubler yelled from the kitchen- "What did you get?"

- "Mom went nuts and got us so many baby clothes. I don't think our baby will have time to wear it all before it's too small for him."- Matthew chuckled at the idea of their baby wearing tiny socks that didn't fit on his little feet.

- "Then, she invited me for lunch and overfed me, but I can't complain, 'cos I was starving, and she took me to that little Italian place near to their house, and it's just so good! I think I ate my weight on garlic bread."

Matthew frowned and looked at the tray he was preparing. It had homemade cookies, a chocolate milkshake, one cupcake, and a heart-shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

- "So... you are not hungry?"- he asked, hesitant to bring his wife the snack he had prepared for her.

- "Starving, actually. Your son is gonna make me gain a million pounds."- Matthew smiled and grabbed the tray, walking with confidence back to the family room.

- "That's what I wanted to hear, 'cos I made this for you."

(Y/N) widened her eyes in awed, smiled at her husband when he stood by her side and placed the tray on her legs.

- "I cooked all your favorites while you were gone"

- "Matthew Gray, you are the sweetest husband on Earth"- (Y/N) raised her hands and reached his face, forcing him to lean over and kiss her.

- "What do you want?"- she whispered and smiled

- "What do you mean?"

- "I'm your wife. I've known you for the last... nine years. I know you are going to ask me for something"- Gubler gasped, pretending to be shocked and insulted, but (Y/N) shook her head and took a large sip of her milkshake.

- "Really, (Y/N). I can't believe you think I'm nice to you only because I wanna ask you for something."

- "So you won't?"- (Y/N) raised an eyebrow and chewed a cookie- "These are delicious, honey. Thank you so much."

- "no, you already broke my heart"- Matthew sighed and sat at the other side of the couch.

- "Oh, come on!"

- "I was just trying to be nice with my wife."

- "You are adorable. If I weren't pregnant already, I would actually ask you to knock me up"- Gubler tried not to chuckle but failed.

- "Come on, Gub, give me a smile"- (Y/N) giggled and looked at Matthew- "You know you want to smile."

- "Stop it."

- "Come on, honey"- (Y/N) reached out for his hand and held it- "Just tell me what it was that you wanted to ask me"- Gubler bit his inner cheek and sighed.

- "I hate that you know me so well."

- "It's part of the job of being your wife"- (Y/N) smiled pleased and grabbed another cookie- "So?"- she chewed the cookie and gave one to Matthew.

- "Ok... here's the deal"- Matthew ran his hands through his hair and made a pause, trying to rearrange his thoughts. (Y/N) looked at him, waiting and eating all the cookies on the dish.

- "I'm waiting."

- "Ok, so... we are going to have a kid"- Matthew stated- "And that kid has to have a name"- suddenly (Y/N) knew exactly where that conversation was going.

- "Yes, he has."

- "And we haven't talked about the baby's name"

- "No"- (Y/N) shook her head and crossed her arms on her chest immediately.

- "But I haven't even told you what I wanted to ask."

- "The baby's name won't be Rumble Buttercup."

Matthew opened his mouth to argue, and (Y/N) looked right into his eyes with a deadpan stare.

- "But why not?"

- "Are you serious, Matthew? You already have a "kid" named Rumple."

- "Yes, but it's different, 'cos he is my "first child book," and our baby is our firstborn child."

- "No"- (Y/N) shook her head again and grabbed the sandwich. Yes, she had eaten most of the day, but she really felt hungry. Maybe it was anxiety or cravings, but whatever it was, she just felt hungry the whole time.

- "Come on (Y/N), be fair here."

- "Ok, I'll be fair. Explain your case."

Matthew stood up and cleared his throat, ready to convince his wife. He fixed his hair, though it was a useless attempt to look a little more serious. If anything, he just made her want to laugh more, 'cos he was being adorable.

- "Ever since I was a little kid, I always dreamed about the day I could call my first son "Rumple Buttercup." Rumple is an old family name in the Gubler family, and I am sure naming our baby as his ancestors will assure him a life of happiness and love."

Gubler smiled at his wife, and (Y/N) nodded, chewing the last bite of the sandwich.

- "Who was called Rumple in the Gubler's family?"- she asked, and Matthew almost jumped, looking at her excitedly.

- "Excellent question, Bunny. You'll see, my great-great-grandfather, Rumple Buttercup Gubler, first arrived in America in early 1800, all alone with no family. And he built the first casino of Las Vegas."

- "In the early 1800"- (Y/N) raised an eyebrow and tried not to laugh.

- "He was a visionary. Don't you want our baby to be a visionary too?"

- "I do, I definitely do. But... can we talk about my great-great-grandfather? His name was Yertle, and he also had a vision. And a mustache!"- (Y/N) said and made her best not to laugh, as Matthew raised an eyebrow and bit his lips, trying not to laugh as well.

- "Yertle?"- he asked, crossing his arms on his chest- "Your great-great grandfather's name was Yertle?

- "Yes"- she nodded and smiled- "Yertle the Turtle. It's also an old family name, and most of the man in my family had carried that name after him".

- "I've never heard of one an "uncle Yertle" when we hang out with your family."

- "I've never heard of an "uncle Rumple Buttercup" when we hang out with yours."

- "He has been mentioned many times. All the Rumples of my family has been amazing men."

- "Just like our good old Yertle."

- "But I called dibs on the baby's name!"- Matthew failed and laughed at his own words and sat by his wife, huffing. (Y/N) giggled and rested her head on his shoulder.

- "What if we find a great name together?"- she whispered. Matthew held her hand and played with her fingers between his for a second.

- "Or we can call him Rumple."

- "Rumple Yertle Gubler"- she whispered and shook her head- "I'm not sure."

- "Rumple Buttercup Yertle Gray Gubler"- he corrected and chuckled- "Fine, let's find another name."

- "Thank you, honey"- (Y/N) smiled and sighed- "Wanna split the cupcake?"

- "Yes, please."

Matthew looked at his wife, carefully splitting the cupcake he had made for her, and took half. He could have had a whole tray of cupcakes, but that was the only one that didn't burn. Matthew wasn't really the best baker in the world, but he had tried his best. He wanted to do something nice for his wife. She hadn't been feeling good in the last few weeks. The baby kept her up most of the nights, moving and kicking. She couldn't really rest, and everybody kept telling her it wasn't going to be any better once the baby was born.

- "So... wanna think of names now?"- (Y/N) asked him with a smile- "Wanna think of another man with an amazing vision and incredible mustache to name our baby?"

- "Actually"- Matthew whispered and smiled- "I had a plan B in case you weren't on board with Rumple."

- "Really?"- (Y/N) frowned, wondering what was Matthew going to come up with now- "Suprise me."

- "Vincent"- there was a long silence after Gubler said that name. (Y/N) gave it a little thinking, running all the nickname options in her head.

- "Vincent Gray Gubler"- Matthew added the rest of the name- "What do you think?"

- "LIttle Vincent Gray Gubler... Vince, Vinnie..."

- "Like Vincent Price. He is an amazing man with a vision and an incredible mustache."

(Y/N) kept nodding as she finished eating her cupcake. Her husband turned to her and waited for an answer.

- "I love the name"- she whispered and grinned at Matthew- "What do you think, Vincent Gray?"- she asked, looking at her tummy.

- "Knock once for yes and twice for no"- Matthew giggled and caressed (Y/N) belly. And as if he could hear them, the little baby kicked her once. The Gublers looked at each other with wide-opened eyes, surprised and shocked by the quick answer of their unborn son.

- "It's settled then, Vincent!"- Matthew replied to the belly and kissed it- "You just picked your name!"

(Y/N) looked at her husband and moved closer, holding his face with both hands, and pulling him closer to her.

- "I love you, Gub"- she whispered and kissed him

- "I love you too, Mrs. Gub."

- "Thank you for putting a baby on my belly,"- she murmured, and he chuckled, caressing her hair and looking into her eyes, which were getting a little tearful at the moment.

- "Sorry, hormones"- she excused herself and chuckled- "I'm just so excited we picked his name."

- "I'm excited too, Bunny,"- Matthew whispered and kissed her one more time- "Now, what do you say I get you some herbal tea?"

- "I'd ask you to marry me, but you already did,"- she answered with a huge smile. Matthew kissed her one more time and stood up. Vincent Gray Gubler. Sounded like a dream.  

--------

Taglist: 

@all-tings-diego​

[viking-raider]

Southern Generation - Part IV

Summary: Sy wakes up in Lily’s arms and shows his gratitude for her comforting him. The mysterious caller is revealed, causing Sy to get extremely protective.

Pairing: Captain Syverson/OFC

Word Count: 7,178

Rating: M - Language, Protective!Sy, Domestic Kink, Stalking, Harassment, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Confession, Smut - Nipple stimulation, intercourse, orgasm, cream pie. 

Inspiration: Always wanted to write a Sy fic and this is a re-work on an old fic I wrote several years ago.

Author’s Note: Thank you for all the love and support, @wondersofdreaming​! Your ideas, suggestions and encouragement mean the world to me, and my stories.

Sy woke the next morning wrapped around a warm body and a steady heart beat in his ear, he tipped his head back and was met with Lily's sleeping face, his head pillowed on her breasts. He smiled, hugging his arms snugger around her waist and sighed, comfortable and peaceful, nuzzling his face into her chest.

Lily moaned softly, making Sy smile against the fabric of the night shirt she was wearing, her hand moved against the broad expanse of his back, fingertips sleepily caressing his spine, unconsciously soothing him, before moving between his shoulder blades, tickling the nape of his neck and rubbing the back of his head with her palm.

He vaguely remembered her calling his name and holding him after his nightmare, whispering into his ear that he was safe and at home, with her. Lily made the choice to bring him to her bed, comforting him even more, until he fell asleep, and for the first time in years, Sy actually dreamt about something other than war and endless spaces of bloody sand.

Reaching up, Sy brushed his fingers through her bangs, smiling. “My Angel.” He whispered, not wanting to wake her.

Carefully unwrapping himself from around her, Sy slipped out of bed and gingerly covered Lily up, before tip toeing downstairs to the kitchen. Scratching the back of his head for a moment, Sy moved about the kitchen, setting up the coffee maker, pulled out the skillet and started making breakfast. He figured she had been making him breakfast every morning for the last several months, it was time for him to return the favor.

So, Sy went all out, once he had everything made, he brought it upstairs to her.

Lily took a deep breath and moaned, stretching and rolling onto her back, but found Sy was no longer in bed with her. She sat up, panicked that something had happened to him, and was about to get out of bed to look for him, when he appeared in the bedroom door, relieved he was all right.

“Morning.” He smiled, finding her sitting up.

“Did you make breakfast?” She frowned as he approached her side of the bed.

“I did.” He nodded, setting her steaming cup of tea on her bedside table. “I thought, since you always make me breakfast, that I'd make you breakfast this go around.” Sy explained, setting the tray of food over her lap.

“What's better than breakfast in bed?”

“Nothing currently comes to mind.” Lily smiled, a soft blush on her cheeks, actually pleasantly surprised at this change of events, touched at Sy’s sweet gesture.

“I didn't think so.” Sy chuckled, pulling up the chair that was at a small desk in her room and sat down, balancing his own plate of food in his lap.

“So, what's on your agenda today, Captain?” She asked, taking a sip of her tea and was surprised to find it was exactly to her liking.

“I think, it's time I started working on the roof.” He replied, bringing his fork to his mouth. “I want to at least give it some temporary patches, before the weather turns.” He told her, after swallowing. “It'll also give me a chance to find out what all the problems with it are, and if I'll need to re-roof it.”

“I hope not.” Lily frowned, washing down some of her food with a gulp of tea.

“Well, from what I've seen on the ground, it looks to be the original roof that was put on when the house was built.” He chuckled at her, setting his empty plate on her nightstand. “That was nearly a century ago.”

“Unless, you know about it being replaced since then?” He asked her, tilting his head.

“The realtor didn't mention it to me.” Lily replied, searching her mind for any scrap of memory of the day she bought the place.

“That's all right.” Sy assured her, gently touching her hand. “I'll get it done, don't you worry.”

Lily smiled at him, turning her hand to thread her fingers with his. “I'm not worried, since you're the one on the case.” She replied, softly.

Sy grinned at her, bringing her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers, before letting go and collecting their plates. “You know, what would you say, if I managed to install a dishwasher for you?” He asked, pausing in the doorway of her bedroom.

“I have a dishwasher.” Lily giggled, holding up her hands and wiggling her fingers at him.

“You know what I mean, sugar butt.” He laughed, smirking even broader at her.

Lily shrugged, still giggling at him, her cheeks coloring at his nickname. “I don't know, Bear. I've never had one before.”

“Well then, Angel, I'll riddle that one out for you.” He promised in a soft voice.

“I believe you.” She whispered back, giddy, and not for a dishwasher.

“I'm going to check the mail.” Lily said, drying her hands on a dish towel, after washing the dishes from lunch.

“All right.” Sy nodded, still sitting at the table.

Sy had stood to refill his coffee cup, when the phone rang. Biting his lip and glancing out of the kitchen, he saw Lily was too far down the driveway to call her back to answer it, so he picked it up instead; clearing his throat.

“Moore residence.” He spoke into the receiver.

“She's a sweet thing, isn't she?” A sinister voice asked from the other end.

“Excuse you?” Sy barked, a flash of hot anger bursting through his body.

“Oh yes.” The voice chuckled, incredibly delighted. “She is sweet as a Lily, so pure and good.”

“Who is this?” Sy demanded with a deep growl, his teeth gritted and bared as he gripped the handle of the phone even tighter in his hand.

“She's mine, you know.” They growled back at Sy, breathing heavily, their own anger mounting. “She's always been mine and she will always be mine.”

“Not anymore.” Sy hissed back and slammed the phone down in its cradle.

“Sy?” Lily frowned, coming into the kitchen as he hung up the phone. “Who was that?”

“I don't know, you tell me?” He replied, turning towards her, brows drawn together.

“I'm not the one that answered it, Austin.” She countered, shaking her head, confused by his anger.

“It was some guy, said you were his, always had been and would be.” Sy told her, pushing his jaw forward.

Lily's eyes glassed over, letting out a shuddering breath and started trembling. Sy blinked at her, his anger at the caller's words melting away to alarmed concern. He took a step forward, reaching out for her, but Lily stumbled away from him, tears finally spilling free.

“Lily.” He whispered softly, his chest tight. “Easy.” He cooed at her, licking his lips.

“I'm not his, not anymore.” She whimpered, shaking her head. “Why can't he just leave me be.”

Sy blinked at her, frowning harder. “What?”

“Nothing.” Lily mewled, biting her lip.

“No, come on.” He coaxed her, resting his hand on her arm and gently pulled her against him. “Tell me.” He whispered, gently rubbing her back.

“I thought I got away from him.” She sniffled against his shirt. “Thirteen hundred miles away from him. I was so careful—so careful.” She mumbled, hands clinging onto the sides of his shirt. “I don't-I don't know how he found me—unless...”

“Unless?” Sy frowned, still slowly rubbing her back and trying to process what she was telling him. “Sit down.” He said, moving them towards the breakfast table and pulled out a chair for her, before bringing the other one around from the other side to sit beside her.

“Start at the beginning.”

Lily cleared her throat and stared down at her hands, folded in her lap. “I was born and raised in Middleburg, Virginia. You know, that I'm an only child and that my mom died, when I was born. I was raised by my grandparents, because my dad was in and out of my life, before just finally disappearing from it, when I was nineteen.” She explained to him, licking her lips.

“He blamed me for my mom's death.” She added, quietly.

Sy reached out and rested his hand on her thigh, squeezing it gently, and gave her a sweet smile.

“When I was seventeen, I met a boy at church, Jak.” Lily continued to explain to him. “It was the only time I really got to interact with others, my grandparents were strict, homeschooling me and only really letting me out of the house, unless they were with me, which was usually only for church on Sunday.” She fidgeted, shyly. “He was the only boy to show any interest in me, which didn't and did surprise me. The little house on the prairie dresses my grandma made me wear, and the glasses I had back then, you could see the moon through them.” She chuckled, cheeks colored.

Sy smiled back at her, even picturing her as a little girl like that, he still found her beautiful.

“But, Jak didn't care, or at least he didn't say or show he did. I would sneak out at night to meet him in the apple orchard my grandfather grew. It had been in our family since the Revolutionary War, the land was given to my, how many times, great-grandfather as payment for his service in the war.”

“I bet it's beautiful.” Sy commented, warmed at the thought.

“They are, so many of the trees are the original ones that were planted.” She smiled back, picturing the orchard in her mind. “The first one that was ever planted, after he cleared away the land, is still there and yielding, there's a plaque staked by its roots, and people come from all around to see it and the orchard, the Warren Apple.”

Sy rested back in his chair. “Your family owns the Warren Orchard Company? You're one of those Warrens?”

“I am.” She nodded, smiling proudly at that fact, but it vanished.

“Anyway, Jak and I would sneak every moment we could to see each other. He even got a job, during the summer, in the orchard, so we could see each other even more.” She took a deep breath, letting it out softly. “But, a year after we met and started being sweet on each other, my grandparents lodged a missionary for his two year mission in our ward. Jak thought he and I were getting close, that my grandparents had actually brought him to live with us, so he and I could court and marry.”

“He grew jealous and possessive. I was stupid, naive and young, I didn't know what was happening, that he was being abusive, until it was almost far too late.”

“What happened, that caused you to realize it?” Sy asked, tilting his head at her.

“I met Jak in the orchard one night, when I was twenty, the day after the missionary went back home to Michigan, because his two years were up. When I got there, Jak was pacing, already angry. Livid. When he saw me, he started yelling about how he had seen me kissing the missionary, how we practically ate each other's faces on the back porch, while everyone else was in the house, during his farewell party.” She said, glancing out the window behind the breakfast table.

“Of course, I hadn't been. Matt, the Missionary, and I had been on the back porch together, I had gone out there to get away from the press of all the people and he went out there to check on me. We had hugged, only the once, since doing so isn't really acceptable, two not courting, unchaperoned kids. But, we did nothing more, before going back inside. The truth didn't matter to Jak though, he had his version of what he saw and it was unchangeable.” Lily bit her lip and gripped Sy's wrist as his hand still laid on her thigh. “He lost his temper and hit me, but in my love sick stupidity, I didn't break it off there or tell my grandparents about it.”

“Instead, I enrolled in a university for Photography and Web Design, moved out of my grandparents' place and into one with him, like an idiot.”

“You weren't an idiot, Lily.” Sy told her, shaking his head and slipping his hand into hers. “It's more common than you think.”

“I know it is.” She sighed, clinging onto his hand.

“He only got worse and it got harder for me to get my school work done, with him accusing me that I was sleeping with my project partners, even teachers.” She huffed, shaking her head at his allegations, that now sounded so ridiculous. “The straw that broke the camel's back was,” She paused, biting and licking her lips, fighting down a bubble of emotions and memories. “One of my project mates called to ask me about the faux website we were designing for a fake company we had to make up, cause she wanted to know what time was good for us to meet up, and Jak answered the phone, claimed he heard a guy in the background, throwing the phone across the living room and went ballistic, saying I was having her call me to set up a time for me and the guy he heard, to try and fool him.”

“He spent the next hour going to town on me.” She said, glancing up at him, the hint and meaning in her eyes.

“Afterwards, he went to work and I packed a bag. I had some money from the family orchard business, so I took a good portion of it, bought a greyhound bus ticket to a cousin I was close to in New Jersey, Maggie, and stayed with her, knowing he wouldn't find me there, my grandparents wouldn't think I'd go there, and she wouldn't ever rat on me. While I was there, I petitioned for a name change, from Liliana Warren to Lily Ana Moore, and finished my degree, then found this place and moved out here.”

“So, how do you think he found you?” Sy asked, worried about her safety and angry that this asshole had the audacity to hurt her and wanted to try and hurt her again, but he kept a lid on his temper, not wanting to frighten her anymore than she already was.

“I've been keeping tabs on my grandparents, mostly through my cousin.” Lily answered, biting her lip. “She called me a year ago, to tell me that my grandmother had a stroke, a pretty bad stroke at that. She's apparently wheelchair bound now. Maggie went down there to visit them, and my grandfather was talking about how he needed someone to work on the company website, when Maggie let it slip that I have a web design business.”

“Oh.” Sy let out, eyes wide.

“Yeah.” She nodded back. “So, of course, they got upset, understanding that Maggie knew what had happened to me and where I was and all that. She called afterwards, apologizing up and down to me for it. She didn't tell them where I was or anything like that, just that I was safe and fine, and if I wanted to contact them, I would.”

“Did you?”

“I did.” Lily sighed, voice tight. “I figured after four years, I owed them a call.”

“So, do you think they told Jak?”

“I don't know.” She shrugged. “But, a week after I called them, I started getting hang up calls, then calls where no one would say anything for a few minutes, before hanging up. Then, two months ago, I got a call that was different from the others, he said something to me, and a month ago, he said something being soon.”

The wires connected in Sy's brain. “That's what caused you to take all those pills.”

Lily gulped and bit her lip, eyes burning, as she nodded her head. “Ye-ah.” She choked, fear and anxiety starting to mount inside of her again.

“Hey, hey.”

Sy cooed, wrapping his arms around her and pulled her into his lap, hugging her against his chest. “It's all right, Lily. It's going to be all right, I promised to protect you and I will. You are safe with me, you will always be safe with me, whatever the cost.” He whispered in her ear, holding her close and planning ways and means to protect her.

“Sy?” Lily called from the open door of her bedroom, just as Sy stepped out of the hall bathroom, in nothing, but a pair of black boxers.

“Lily?” He replied, rubbing the towel over his head, and looked up at her, lifting a brow, inquisitively.

Lily rested her hand on the handle of her door and stepped sideways, giving a little motion of her head into her room, a soft and offering expression on her face. Sy blinked at her, surprised, then down at Aika, who sat in the doorway of his room, feeling like he was picking what lady to sleep with for the night.

He tilted his head at Aika and gave her a sympathetic expression.

“Sorry, Girl.” He whispered to the Shepherd, turning towards Lily.

Lily chuckled at him, smiling and shaking her head as he passed by her and into her room. “You can come too, Aika.” She called to her, then turned into her room.

“You're cool with this?” Sy asked, eyes motioning to her bed.

“It was my idea, wasn't it?” She smiled at him, then stepped inside her closet for a moment and came back in a t-shirt-like nightie with Mickey Mouse on it, before pulling down the blankets and crawling into bed.

“It was.” He nodded, then laid down with her, covering up.

Lily scooted closer to him and Sy draped his arm over her waist, tucking her against him and she let him lay his head on her chest, stroking his arm. She was comfortable with the warm weight of his body against hers, the clean scent of his skin and hair from his shower. She felt Sy's body slowly melt into hers as he fell asleep, it had been her plan. Lily knew there was a high likelihood of Sy having another episode or nightmare, but figured, if he was there, with her, already safe and comfortable in her arms, he wouldn't have it.

That was her deepest hope, at least.

But, the next thing Lily knew, she was being jerked roughly off the bed and pinned underneath Sy's mountainous weight, his heavy and hot breath puffing against the side of her face as he blanketed her with his body, clearly startled and on high alert. The room lit up with a quick flash of lightning and the furious sound of rain beating on all parts of the house filled the bedroom around them.

“Austin.” She gasped, grasping the back of his arms, nails digging into his sweaty skin, thinking he had been set off by the noise of the sudden storm. “Aust-”

“Ssshhh.” He hushed her, lips brushing her temple, the hairs of his beard tickling her skin. “Stay here.” He whispered into her ear, then moved off of her and out of the room, Aika sitting in the open doorway and growling into the darkness of the hallway after him.

Lily sat up on her elbows, knowing that what was happening couldn't have been from one of Sy's nightmares or the storm, because Aika wouldn't be acting like this, she was angry, like she was daring something Lily couldn't see to try and cross her. But, nothing came, not even Sy, and Lily was starting to get worried. So, getting up, she edged around Aika and tip toed downstairs, jerking at another boom of thunder and crack of lightning, until she found Sy standing in the entryway.

“Austin?” She called out to him, over the sound of the rain, which sounded much louder downstairs.

“I told you to stay upstairs.” He barked, not looking back at her.

“What's wrong?” She asked, knowing there had to be something, by the tone of his voice.

“Nothing, just go back to bed.”

Narrowing her eyes, Lily stepped closer to him and her eyes grew wide, seeing what had caused Sy to wake up and react like he had. The large bay window in the den that faced out onto the porch and the front of the property was smashed, the glitter of the broken glass shined in the lightning strikes and left the outline of the brick amongst them, the cause of the broken window. Lily's eyes snapped out the living room window, expecting to see someone, not just someone, but Jak, to be standing out in the yard, staring back at them. But, there was no one, but her and Sy's cars. Her heart started to race and pound, making her feel dizzy and lightheaded, trembling so hard she almost lost her balance, but caught herself on the back of the couch.

Sy turned and grabbed her, picking her up in his arms and carried her back up to bed. “Stay here.” He ordered her, pointing a stiff finger at her, then went back downstairs.

Going out back, Sy grabbed a large piece of plywood he had bought in preparation for repairing the roof and instead used it to board up the broken window, until the storm passed and morning came, so he could find a piece of glass to replace it, leaving him and the den floor mostly wet. He moped the den floor and laid out nearly every towel Lily had in the house in hopes the old floorboards wouldn't warp under the water damage.

He stepped out onto the porch for a moment, glaring into wet dark. “This is my house now.” He growled, knowing Jak was still out there somewhere nearby. “My girl.” He hissed, before turning back inside, going up to the guest room to change into a dry pair of boxers and joined Lily back in her bed.

“It was him.” She mumbled, hugging her pillow to her chest. “It had to be him.”

Sy sighed softly, locking his arms around her waist and hugged her to his chest, curving his body around hers. He didn't know what to say to her, they both knew it had to be Jak, who else would have thrown a brick through someone's window in the middle of a storm like this one, especially after all the other incidents over the last several months; all the lines drew back to Jak on his unhealthy, possessive rampage to reclaim Lily as his own. Sy was afraid that if he verbalized his agreement with her, it would only inflate her already inflamed fear of the obvious.

So, he just clutched her tighter to him, pressing his lips to her shoulder and squeezing his eyes shut against the bright flashes of lightning.

“Lily, I'm going to go to town, I have something I need to pick up.” He told her, searching the living room for his car keys.

“I thought you already ordered the new windowpane?” Lily called back, appearing out of the kitchen, where she was washing the dishes.

“I did.” He nodded, he had found a shop that he could order a replacement windowpane for the den window that morning, but it wouldn't be ready until the next day. “This is for something else.” He told her, finding his keys under a magazine on the coffee table.

“What are you going for, then, Bear?” She asked, tilting her head at him.

Sy paused and regarded her. “Don't worry about it, Angel. I'll be back in an hour.” He told her, then, went out.

“Okay.” Lily frowned, glancing out the living room window, the thunder and lightning had passed during the early morning, but it was still raining cats and dogs.

Sighing, Lily turned back into the kitchen, taking a bucket and mop out of the utility closet, filled the bucket with warm water and soap, before getting down to mopping the floors, with nothing else to do in the current weather.

Sy rushed out to his truck, but was still almost half soaked by the time he settled himself in the driver's seat. Turning on the car and cranking on the heat, Sy pulled off the property and headed towards Celina. He pulled into the small parking center the small town had, scanning the rain blurred signs, looking for the one he was heading for, before opening the door and rushing towards it, pulling open the door, with an electric ding, announcing his presence.

“How can I help you?” the shop owner asked, coming out of a small room in the back and stopped behind a long glass case.

“Yeah, I'm looking for something specific.” Sy replied, stopping on the other side of the glass case, a look of understanding in both men's eyes.

“What specifics would that be?”

“Taurus, PT111 G2, 9mm.” Sy rattled off with familiar ease.

“Do you have a license and ID?” The store owner asked, eyes scanning the case between them.

“Then, some.” Sy laughed, pulling out his wallet to show the man his qualifications.

“You're a retired Captain.” The man noted, seeing Sy's military ID.

“That I am.” Sy chuckled, grinning with some pride.

The store owner got Sy squared away with the weapon he wanted, a secure case and a couple rounds of ammo, while also chattering about the military, being a retired Staff Sergeant himself. Getting back into his truck, he put the case under the passenger seat, pausing to stare at it for a moment,emotions and thoughts brewing inside of him, then shook them off. Satisfied, Sy went back home to Lily, finding her dusting the living room, when he came in, carrying the case and sat it down on the coffee table.

Lily paused, dust rag poised above the mantelpiece, staring at the case. “Is that what I think it is?” She asked, finally looking up at him.

“If you think it's a gun, then yes.” Sy replied, sitting down on the couch and tugging on the soaked laces of his boots.

“Why,” She gulped, arm dropping to her side. “did you buy a gun and bring it here?”

“Because, I wanted to and as a precaution.” He answered her, yanking his boots off.

“A precaution?”

“There is a fucking asshole out there.” Sy barked, jerking his arm up and finger pointing out the window. “Trying to hurt you.” His finger moved to her, in emphasis. “I am a big man. I'm a strong man. I've killed and subdued more than one man with my bare hands, but a personal cost.” He explained to her, standing and jerking up his shirt, showing her a couple of scars on his sides and chest, some were round and puckered, gunshot wounds, others were stripes, like stab wounds.

“If that prick decides to come into this house, to try and put his hands on you. That,” He pointed down to the gun case. “is going to be the first thing he wants to meet, because if he has to get close enough to me, that I need to put my hands on him, then they will be that last thing he will ever feel.” He told her, chest heaving as he got worked up over the situation.

Lily gulped at him, biting her lip, a flash of fear in her eyes at his passionate words, seeing a vein of rage that Jak had also been capable of.

“I just want to protect you.” He said softly, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself down; seeing he had scared her.

“I know you do, Austin.” She whimpered back, gulping, eyes shiny. “I know you do.”

Sy moaned, something cold pressing into his neck. “Hm, Lily.” He chuckled, scrunching his head and shoulders together, grinning as the cold and wet touched his bare chest, making him grunt and wiggle away. “Why are you so col-” He started to laugh, opening his eyes, only to meet the soulful and tawny colored eyes of Aika.

“Aika, what are ya doin' here?” He frowned, and sat up, finding it was just him and the German Shepherd in the bed, Lily nowhere in sight. “Lily?” He called out, turning his head towards the master bathroom, but it was empty.

Panic filled Sy as he yanked the blankets back and pounded down the stairs into the living room, then the den. Sy squeezed his eyes shut, taking deep breaths and clenching his hands in and out of fists, trying to keep himself cool and calm, before going into the kitchen, hearing the screen of the back door knocking against the door frame, and found the main back door was ajar.

“What is she doing?” He whispered to himself, biting his lip and looking back, considering the option of going back upstairs and getting the gun, but something in his gut told him he wouldn't need it.

Opening the door, Sy stepped out onto the back porch, a shiver wracking his body as a strong gust of rainy wind rushed by him. He narrowed his eyes, scanning the drenched backyard, the tall, unruly and uncut grass bent from the pelting of the rain and gusts of wind, he caught a quick movement to his left and turned in that direction, stepping off the porch and followed after it, towards the barn, just catching the billowing fabric of Lily's white nightie, vanishing inside.

“Lily, what are you doing in here?” He called out, pushing open the barn door a bit more. “Lily?” He called again, frowning as he crossed the barn and found her huddled in one of the old horse stalls. “What are you doing in here, Angel?” He cooed at her, shaking his head, droplets of rain running down both of their faces, and watched her melt into the corner.

Lily panted, her back pressed against the warped and worn wall behind her, arms pressed to her chest, her nightie so soaked, it was almost see through. Sy bit his lip and gulped, slowly crouching down. He knew what was going on, he had seen and suffered things like this a million times over the last ten plus years. She was having a PTSD episode, running away from the terror that was inside her head, trying to hide and find somewhere safe from it. Everything over the last several months with Jak stalking and harassing her was really starting to affect her, finally breaking her it seemed.

“I'm not going to hurt you, love.” He said softly, keeping his voice soft and low. “Come here.” He gulped, opening his arms to her and biting his lip with apprehension. “It's all right. You know, you can trust me, Sugar.” He whispered, nodding his head as she slowly unfolded herself and crawled over to him.

“Hey, Angel.” Sy cooed, sighing softly, and closed his arms around her, pressing his lips to the top of wet her head. “Ssshh.” He hushed her, rubbing her back and cupping the back of her head, feeling her tears add to the raindrops on his chest.

“I c-can-can't ta-take it an-anymore.” She sobbed, trembling in his arms, overcome with emotions and cold.

“We'll get through this, Angel.” He whispered to her, cupping her chilled cheeks in his hands and tilted her head back to look up at him. “We will get through this. You and I will get through this together. Everything will work out.”

Lily shook her head, her pale lips trembling. “N-no, it wo-won't. He-he always g-gets what h-he wants. All-always.” She mewled, whining. “I don't kn-know why I-I thought I c-could ge-get away.”

Sy's expression was hard for a moment, before he brought their faces together and kissed her, deeply. Lily stiffened against him, taken off guard by his kiss, but she didn't pull away or push him away. Gulping, she shyly returned his kiss, resting her hands on him, feeling the skin of his sides jump and react to her icy touch.

“I've wanted to kiss you.” Sy said, pulling back. “For such a long time.” He admitted, looking into her eyes. “Since that day on the porch, when you woke me up.”

“Since, you gave me your hoodie at the fair.” She whispered back, licking her lips, the warmth of Sy's still lingering on them.

Sy leaned forward, kissing her gently and brushing his fingers through her dripping hair, Lily pushing forward to deepen it for a moment, letting out a breathy whimper. Sy smirked, then looked down at the floor between them, it was still strewn with decades old hay and dirt. He held up a finger and stood, bumping around in the dark barn before a scratching sound sounded among the patter of rain on the metal barn roof. A moment later, a teeny glow filled the space and Sy approached where Lily was still kneeling, holding an old, beat up, oil lantern he knew was in the barn from his many searches of the space, hanging it up on a bent and rusty nail on the stall wall, then disappeared for another moment.

“Stand up.” He said, motioning her out of the stall, holding something in his arms.

Lily frowned at him, but stepping out of the stall and out of his way, catching a glimpse of what it was, it was one of the drop clothes he bought for when he painted the house, keeping the paint off the new porch. Sy unfolded the drop cloth over the dirty hay and stall floor, making sure it was comfortable, then turned back to her.

“How gentlemanly.” Lily complimented him.

“I am a Southern boy.” Sy chuckled, letting his Southern drawl deepen, and wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her against him. “Who's in love with Southern Lady.”

Lily blushed as Sy kissed her again, hugging her against him and up off her feet, turning around and slowly dropped to his knees, gently laying her back on the situated drop cloth. Lily wrapped her arms around Sy's neck, moaning softly against his lips, feeling the fabric of her nightie rub against her cold hardened nipples as Sy moved to kiss down to her neck, sinking his teeth into her delicate skin and let out a loud moan, pushing up against him.

“Austin!” She cried out, pressing her cheek to his ear as he continued to bite and suck on her neck, his beard tickling and rubbing against the skin underneath her jaw, leaving it red and sensitive.

Sy chuckled, loving the sound of her calling out his name with the metal patter of rain, his hand gliding over the soaked material of her nightie, bunching and hiking it up out of his way, pressing his palm against her side, rubbing his big hands all over her exposed body, grunting and growling into her neck, like a wild grizzly bear, finally getting his claws on his prized catch. His big mitts were on her plump breasts almost instantly, squeezing and kneading them, rubbing the rough pads of his thumbs over the sensitive nubs of her nipples, making her moan and whimper, fidgeting beneath him and rubbing her legs together, adding to the growing slickness between them.

“You sound so sweet.” Sy moaned back, pulling away from her neck, a set of dark teeth marks left behind, dipping his head for a moment to swirl his tongue around one of her nipples.

“Sy.” She whined, gulping down a moan. “Sy, please.”

“Oh.” He smiled, impishly. “You like that?” He asked, flicking her erect nipple with the tip of his tongue and watched her partially melt. “Your sweet, sensitive, little buds.” He cooed, then closed his lips around one of them, suckling gently, rubbing and rolling his tongue against it.

“Ah, shit!” Lily gasped, gripping his shoulders, eyes rolling and fluttering back into her head, heels digging into the fabric of the drop cloth. “God damn it, Austin.” She snapped, pressing her palms to the back of his head, holding his mouth to her breasts, her moans and whimpers filled the barn, pushing against him, egging and begging him to keep going, her breathing growing rugged and labored, moans becoming more urgent and reckless.

“Ah, fuck fuck fuck.” She cried out. “Suck them harder.” She coaxed and demanded. “Oh shit! Please, Austin!!” She gasped suddenly, body going rigid with a soft tremor.

Sy pulled away from her and dripped a hand between her trembling thighs, finding an extremely wet patch there. “So, you come, when you get your pretty breasts sucked.” He grinned, fully turned on and impressed, licking her juices off his fingers and palm.

“I've also never heard you say such naughty words.” He added, teasingly.

Lily chuckled, slowly recovering and smiling shyly up at him.

“Oh, it's too late to get shy now, Angel.” Sy laughed, leaning down and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Your secret is out.” He continued to tease her, playfully bouncing her boobs in his palms.

“And, I'm not letting you off.”

“I'm going to regret this, I can just feel it now.” Lily huffed, shaking her head, but her smile gave away her true feelings.

“Yes, you are.”

Sy chuckled, his hand dipping back between her legs, rubbing her still dripping folds with his calloused fingers, melting her into a puddle of weak and vulnerable whimpers. “You're so sensitive and sound so sweet.” He cooed at her, licking his lips and watching her face. “So, so sweet.” He panted, mouth slightly ajar, slipping his free hand into his damp boxers, curling his fingers around his thick and rock hard shaft, giving it a few shallow strokes.

Lily's eyes drifted down the length of her sweaty body, watching Sy work his cock inside his underwear and felt herself shiver in want and anticipation of it. She licked her lips and looked up at him, their eyes in a silent communication of what they both wanted. Sy shifted, yanking off his boxers to kneel between Lily's legs, wrapping them around his waist, her hips and bottom resting atop his thighs, with the small of her back lifted off the drop cloth beneath her.

“You're sure?” Sy panted, gulping thickly and already breaking out into a sweat, staring at her with wide eyes and blown out pupils.

“Yes.” Lily sighed, nodding her head vigorously at him. “God, yes.” She moaned, squeezing her legs around his waist.

Sy smirked, pressed a hand to her hip, pushing it up her side to palm one of her breasts, squeezing and rubbing it, while taking the base of his cock in his other hand, pumping it a few times, rubbing the fat and cut tip against her still wet pussy, slowly slipping between her folds, brushing her entrance and pushing inside. Lily let out a moaning sigh through her nose, feeling his wide girth stretch her open far more than she had ever been before. Her toes curled and squeezed his hips between her calves and thighs, back arching and hips shifting against the nearly uncomfortable burn of his length being buried ever deeper inside her core. Sy tilted his head at her, bracing a hand on the drop cloth, beside her head, and leaned over her, causing Lily to let out a raspy gasp as his cock changed angles inside of her, and kissed her, slow and passionately, still pushing his hips into her.

“You are so beautiful.” He rasped against her lips, nibbling on her pouty bottom lip.

“Austin.” She whimpered back, breathy, hooking her arms under his arms and pressing her palms flat against tense and sweaty back, nails digging into his cool skin. “Austin.” She chanted, softly, rubbing her nose against his.

“Lily.” Sy moaned back, finally flush inside of her, and rocked into her, taking his time and enjoying her heavenly warmth wrapped around his cock, like a toasty sleeve. “I love you, Lily.” He whispered into her ear, kissing her jaw and cheek.

Lily blushed and let out an airy chuckle, hiding her face in his neck and broad shoulder, hugging her arms and legs tighter around his body, clinging onto him for dear life and squeezed her eyes shut, taking in the sound of Sy's heavy breathing and loud moans and groans, grunting, and sighing out her name, the still steady pitter-patter of the fat raindrops on the old, rusted tin roof and sun-kissed wood walls, all mixed with her own sounds of pleasure.

“Sy?” Lily whispered, after their shared climax, still feeling the euphoric and relaxing pleasure it gave both of them, as she laid on the drop cloth, half tucked underneath Sy's body for warmth in the drafty barn.

“Hm?” He hummed back, nosing her hair and took a deep breath.

Lily smiled, feeling the vibration in his chest, nuzzling back into him. “I love you too, Austin.” She whispered, turned her head to look back at him.

Sy lifted his head and looked down at her, a smile slowly pulling across his lips, an excited and giddy feeling in the pit of his stomach, reaching out to gently brush her hair out of her face, picking out a few bits of straw that happened to get stuck in it from earlier; before oh-so-tenderly kissing her.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me, Angel.” He murmured against her cheek.

“I'm guessing as happy as it makes me, Bear.” She chuckled back, kissing the tip of his nose.

Lily softly stirred just before dawn, cradled in Sy's arms as he carried her out of the barn, the rain finally letting up, and into the house. He carried her upstairs to her room and gently laid her down on her bed, letting him help her out of her still damp nightie and tossed it through the open door of her master bathroom, before crawling into bed with her.

Both of them were out cold before the blankets settled around them, unaware of the audience they had a good deal of the night.

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | chapter seven

Chapter Seven

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine. Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels. Chapter Warnings: major fluff word count: 3.9k From the beginning <3

Spencer wakes up to the sound of Amoreena calling for her mother and the feeling of Y/N’s arms wrapped around his middle, finding her way to being the big spoon during the night.

“Dad? Where’s my mom?” Amoreena calls again from outside Spencer's door.

“She’s in here, but don’t come in yet, give her a minute to wake up,” he calls back, hoping she listens and doesn’t come barging in.

Y/N lets out a deep sigh as she sits up, still naked under the covers from the activities from the night before but not concerned in the slightest. She gets out of bed and grabs some fresh shirts from the closet before finding both their underwear on the floor, tossing them at Spencer and telling him to put everything on.

Once they’re finally dressed she opens the bedroom door and scoops up the little one, bringing her back into the bed with them so they can all cuddle.

“What the heck?” Is all Amoreena can ask, “why are you in here?”

“We had a sleepover,” Y/N explains softly, holding Amoreena closer to her and Spencer snuggles in too. “I’m thinking about moving my stuff into here too, so that me and your dad can share and we won’t wake you up by talking at night.”

“Is that why GG’s dress is hanging up there? Are you getting married?” She was full of questions, as always.

It makes them both laugh, “what if we already got married?” Y/N teases her, poking her side lightly.

She starts to pout, real tears forming in her eyes as she pulls away from them to sit at the foot of the bed, “why would you do it without me?” they both rush to console her, wrapping her up in a group hug.

“Not for real, we were just pretending to be married honey, I promise,” Y/N tries to explain softly, “did you want me to have a wedding?”

She nods softly, “like in Enchanted, but I’m your daughter and you marry Spencer and you can have a big puffy dress and I can get one too, can I be the flower girl?”

“Of course we’ll get married for you, just the three of us can plan something okay?” Y/N compromised, making a reference Spencer didn’t understand.

“We have to do it in New York like in the movie,” Amoreena was very serious, looking at them with a stern gaze.

There was a whole world of movies and music that built Amoreena’s personality that he was going to have to learn, he was going to be spending a lot of late nights on Disney+.

“We’ll find a way,” Y/N agreed before kissing Amoreena’s forehead.

“Okay,” she smiled nice and wide, wiping her tears away and cuddling in-between Spencer and Y/N.

She turned more towards Spencer, placing her head on his chest while Y/N spooned into her. The three of them cuddled up in one knot, and Amoreena was a snuggle bug. She cuddled right in and made a tiny home in his arms and he was going to hold her for as long as she wanted to be held.

Y/N couldn’t stop smiling at him, he’d glance to her every few minutes to see her gaze hadn’t moved; she was so content seeing the little family they made, all together and happy as they snuggled up closer and closer till Amoreena felt like she couldn’t breathe anymore and pushed them both away.

“I need to go feed the chickens,” she whispered, still on Spencer’s chest as Y/N got out of the bed, “would you like to help, dad?”

He kissed her little forehead before she sat up, “I’d love to, can I put some jeans on and meet you downstairs?”

“Sure!” She cheered, jumping off the bed and running out the door. Her feet smacking the hardwood floor, making the floor creak and pop as she marched down the cold wooden steps.

“How are you feeling this morning?” He asks Y/N with a small smile, remembering what happened the night before.

She nodded softly, smiling while she suppressed a laugh, “I feel like a teenager again, like my mom's going to know I lost my virginity the second I see her.”

Spencer laughed too, “you haven’t?”

“I said again,” she laughed again, sitting back down on the bed and laying her head in his lap, “I wouldn’t say I’ve been celibate all this time, but yeah no one’s done that with me in a while, it’s normally just me and these bad boys.”

She put both hands in the air, doing jazz hands as she raised her eyebrows, “I love you,” the words had their own agenda as he said them unconsciously.

“I love you!” She wrapped her hands around his shoulders and pulled him down into a big kiss, making the classic smooch noise as they pulled apart and smiled.

“Can I take you on a date this week? Maybe Thursday night, because you don’t work on Fridays?” he felt nervous as if she wasn’t pretending to be his wife currently like she’d reject him for some ungodly reason.

“Yeah, I’d love that, my mom won't mind doing Amoreena’s bedtime routine, she’d probably love to have a sleepover at their house,” Y/N’s eyes were gleaming at the prospect of spending more time alone with him.

He placed his left hand on her stomach softly, staring at the ring on his finger before letting his eyes trail her body. She was in just a pair of underwear and a shirt that used to be her grandma's, beautiful as ever as the sunrise cast an orange glow over her.

His wife.

“Thank you,” she cut into the moment of silence, “for last night.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

She got up and sat in his lap then, straddling his hips and holding his face in her hands so she could get a good look at his chocolate eyes, she ran her thumb over his cheeks, kissing the freckle on top of his eyebrow and the tip of his nose gently, “she has your nose.”

Knowing she saw it too made his heart physically burn, it caught fire in his chest and he felt like he couldn’t breathe “yeah?”

“My mom said she looked like a Who when she was born,” she pushed his nose up with her finger like he was a pig, “it’s so perfect and cute.”

“Thank you,” he can’t help but feel emotional.

“Hey,” she teases him again, “It was my turn to say that, so bear with me for a second before I get too emotional at 7 in the morning.”

“Okay,” he whispered, ready to listen intently to how she felt about him.

“You told me something very difficult for you, that was a secret I’m sure no one else knows about, I can tell by the way you panicked last night that this is a serious anxiety you have about never being a father,” her voice was soft as she brushed his hair behind his ears, running her fingers through the curls ever so gently. “You’re a father, hopefully of two”

It made him laugh as a tear trickled down his cheek, pressing his lips together as he listened, not wanting to disrupt all the thoughts she was going to unload on him because it was a ticket into her mind. He was finally learning her feelings and what she thought about him, not just in a fairytale glow, but in the ugly as well.

“If you ever want to talk about her we can,” she changed the subject.

“Maeve was probably a wonderful woman if you loved her enough to wish you had kids with her, she’s technically the reason I have Amoreena, you wouldn’t have donated again without what happened to her,” she made a great point, bringing a positive light to the worst day of his life.

“You’re a wonderful man and I love you very much, being open with me was really appreciated, getting to do what we did last night was very special to me, so thank you,” she smiled softly before kissing him on the lips again.

“Thank you for being the person I can talk to about this stuff, it’s been really scary,” he admitted softly about to cry when they heard the front door slam close.

“And she’s off,” Y/N smiled again, pressing their noses together. “You need to go with her, she’s very impatient.”

“I know,” he smiled. “But I need to tell you that it runs a lot deeper than what you saw last night. I’m a mess in here and it’s not going away overnight because I’ve found my family.”

“I know,” she nodded ever so softly so their noses brushed again. “I am always here to talk, or we can get you a therapist or sign you up for groups, anything you need to feel better, I’m here to assist in making this beautiful brain feel more loved.”

“Thank you,” he whispered again. “So, if I planned a big date night and requested that you wear your best princess dress and meet me at the door for 6, you’d be down?” He teases her.

She couldn’t help but laugh, “sure, cutie, any colour dress do you want me in?”

“I think red would fit the theme I’m thinking of,” saying a little of his plans and not too much, unsure exactly what he wants to do with her first.

She pinched his cheeks as he smiled, “I don’t get any hints?”

“Nope, and I have chickens to feed,” he said, moving her off his lap and getting ready for the day finally.

—

They both sent Amoreena off to school with a hug and a kiss at the bus stop, exchanging I love you’s and saying they’d see her once she got home. Then Spencer kissed Y/N goodbye as she got ready for work, heading to the main house to talk to her mother about Thursday.

He knocked on the front door, being told to come in, he was family now after all.

“Good morning Spencer, would you like some breakfast?” Linda offered with a big smile, exactly like Y/N’s.

“I’d love some,” he gladly followed her into the kitchen, taking a mug of coffee and a homemade cinnamon roll from her. Amoreena already had one this morning before the bus, leaving a single missing spot in the middle of the pan.

“Would you be able to watch over Amoreena on Thursday night so I can take Y/N out on a real date?” He asks with all the confidence in the world, knowing her mother would say yes regardless.

“Oh absolutely!” She beamed, “what were you planning?”

“Can you keep a secret?” He asked before picking up his coffee with his left hand.

“That’s her grandfather's ring,” Linda pointed it out with a smile growing on her face, it was motherly pride if he’s ever seen it, “she finally did it.”

She must have told her mom the plan, her long-time dream of marrying a good person in that field. Someone to have a family with, someone to give Amoreena siblings and all the extra love in the world, and she picked him.

He nodded softly, “last night we got pretend married, and Amoreena got very upset when she learned we did that without her.”

Linda nodded with a soft smile, “they’re attached at the hip, sometimes I think Amoreena is just a clone of her and then I met you.”

He laughed through his nose, eyes wide as he smirked, “well, actually I might be her father.”

Linda sprouted the same expression Y/N had last night when she found out, “huh?”

He sighed, “I donated sperm the month before she got pregnant with Amoreena, my friends said there should be more geniuses in the world and it’s not like I was getting married any time soon.”

Linda just smiled and shook her head with that same sigh of love that must run in the family, she walked over to him and gave him a small hug as he sat at the kitchen table.

“So, Spencer, tell me about yourself?” Linda asked as she sat down beside him with her own coffee and cinnamon roll, getting to know her son-in-law for the first time ever.

He was in there, laughing and bonding with her for over an hour, seeing Y/N drive down the driveway towards work from the kitchen window with a smile. Discussing his ideas for the date, telling her about his family and the dream he always had about running away to a place like this.

“Fate is funny like that, she knows what you need and when you need it,” Bob cut into the conversation, listening from the back door for a few minutes. “you're here for a reason, Spencer.”

He felt like he was on the set of an old movie about family love that always had a happy ending, he didn’t believe that any of it was real. For a second he wondered if he’s been in a coma for the last week, that this was all just a fever dream after crashing his bike on the way to the park, it was all too perfect.

He thanked them for breakfast with a hug, becoming a hugger to fit into her family and he didn’t even mind it. It was nice to be loved truly, not just because they were obligated to, but because they wanted him in their family.

—

His next stop of the day was Penelope’s apartment, he knocked on the door softly and waited patiently for her to answer, smiling wide at the surprise of Spencer behind her door.

“I need your help,” he says before she can even welcome him.

She was still in her robe, a sleep mask over one eye and her hair standing in every direction known to man “what did you do?”

“Nothing, I need a womanly touch for the date I’m planning,” he admitted, turning pink at the embarrassment of coming to her for this.

“What’s the plan?”

“Can I tell you on the way there?”

She raised her eyebrows, “come in and give me a few minutes, you can explain why you’re wearing a ring while I change…”

“For not being a profiler, you sure are good at this,” he avoided her question as he walked into her apartment, sitting right by her bedroom door so he could talk to her through the door.

“It’s a really long story, but essentially her fiancé died when she was 23 so she’s terrified of real weddings and wanted to just tell me she loves me and call me her husband without waiting or making a big fuss about it all,” he explained it as simply as possible. Not sure if he should tell her about the chat he had with Derek. “And we found out I might be Amoreena’s real father anyway.”

She peaked her head out the door, nothing on now and not wanting him to see. It wasn’t like she got naked when she was drunk and shown him everything before, he just laughed as she smiled at him. “If you need help tracking down any other kids, I can do it?”

He felt a little betrayed but he understood, Derek and Penelope had a bond where secrets never slipped out but they did tell each other everyone else's, “he told you?”

“No, I knew you donated because they did a background check into you at the bureau, and I was the one who had to send them the files,” Penelope admitted. “I wanted you to be the one to tell me, but I don’t think you ever would have.”

He shook his head softly, “I just wanted a family one day however I could get one, and when Rossi met Joy I knew it could bring me the same kind of happiness he has with her and Kai."

“You’re going to be a wonderful dad Spencer,” she tried to not get all teary-eyed as she stood behind the door with nothing on, “anyway continue?”

She slipped back into the room and the two of them continued to yell their gossip back and forth through the door before she finally walked out in her most Penelope outfit to date, “and we’re taking my car. It’s top-down weather, finally.”

It’s not that she was a bad driver, it’s just she barely followed any rules. She drove too fast and passed people when she shouldn’t and it stressed Spencer out, but he was too in love to really be bothered by it today. Taking an hour-long journey to Richmond, pulling into the Edgar Allen Poe Museum.

He was a member here, paying them every month to take care of the grounds and the cats, even tracking down some rare pieces from Poe’s collection to donate to them. He was their favourite customer and patron, and they were very excited for him to finally introduce his new love to one of his favourite places ever.

He rented out the Enchanted Garden for Thursday night, being trusted there alone after hours and granted a key to lock up before he left. Penelope and he picked out lights and blankets, what kind of dinner they’d have and drinks.

“So I’ll make sure your picnic basket is all ready and here waiting for you to arrive,” Penelope planned, reading through the list of things she was going to do to help on Thursday afternoon. “What kind of wine does she like?”

“Oh,” Spencer took a second to think, she might want some wine but she’s also hoping to get pregnant, it could help but it could be a hindrance, he didn’t know how to reply.

“Does she not drink?”

“Can you keep a secret?” The second time he asked that question this morning.

“No fucking way,” she whispered, smacking his arm. “Already?”

“No, I’m not sure, we only tried yesterday,” he feels the anxiety in his chest as he explains it, “It doesn’t work that fast which is why I don’t know if we should.”

“Believe me, wine is a good baby-making tool,” she smiled. “I’ll add some anyway and if she does, she does, if she doesn’t oh well, you know where I live.”

It was so easy with Penelope, she understood everything he did without questioning him. Rooting for him and his future family behind closed doors, always trying to get him with someone in the years she knew him, wanting him to get all that “sweet, sweet loving” Derek raved about.

“Do you think she’ll like this? Be honest.” His anxiety slipped back up his throat and past his vocal cords.

Penelope wrapped him up in a big hug, remembering the statistic that people with Autism and anxiety sometimes relaxing better when held with a certain pressure applied. It worked every time.

“She loves you, you wouldn’t be trying for a baby or wearing that ring if she didn’t,” reassuring as always.

“Do you know anything about Taylor Swift?”

It makes her laugh as she pulls back, “why?”

“She’s Y/N and Amoreena’s favourite person on the earth, I know nothing about celebrities, you know that, and I was thinking about getting them tickets or something this summer if she’s doing anything?” He was desperate to do anything to make his girls smile. “I need a Taylor Swift crash course, is there a new Taylor Swift fan for dummies book?”

“Spencer Reid, do I have news for you,” Penelope wrapped her arm around him once again as she rocked him back and forth with glee, “Rossi’s stepdaughter is her is a socialite in New York and one of miss Swifts friends… let's see what we can do.”

And with that, they left the museum with Penelope's arm still wrapped around him as they went back to her car, listening to Taylor Swift while she spat facts out to Spencer, helping him learn everything he could for his wife and kid.

—

He was the only one home when Amoreena got off the bus, running into his arms and giving him a big hug, “Dad!” She cheered the second he held her, kissing the top of her head as he carried her back to the house. “Where is mom?”

“She’s out buying a new dress for a date we’re going on,” he couldn’t help but over exaggerate his voice when he talked to her, it made it more magical for her little world. “How was school?”

“Awesome!” She swooned, “we started our fathers day presents early cause we won't have class after next week.”

He playfully gasps, stopping abruptly in his tracks to look at her in shock, “You can’t tell me anything about it, they’re supposed to be surprise gifts!”

“I know,” she laughed wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning against his shoulder while they walked, “I just wanted you to know one is coming, you always tell me about your gifts early, like at the museum.”

“Well, thank you for telling me,” he kissed her soft forehead softly before smiling.

She was so smart, her mother had raised her to be the most caring and considerate child. She picked up on everything, she wanted to please everyone, she was the sweetest ever.

“Do you have any homework tonight?”

“Nope! Can we watch a movie?”

He just held her cheek to his in a hug while they walked, “of course my sweet Amoreena, what would you like to watch?”

“It’s a surprise,” she whispered, struggling out of his arms and to the ground before running towards the house without him.

He walks in to see her standing in front of the tv with the remote, flipping through the channels and opening Netflix. Going to her mom's profile, down to the watchlist and clicking on the Taylor Swift Reputation Tour before taking off up the stairs to go get something.

“We made this a few months ago,” it was a piece of paper that she handed to him. “It’s the rules for when mom finally got a date, you’re her boyfriend right?”

He opened the folded lined paper, “I am,” he smiled.

Boy/girlfriend rules:

Must be royalty of some kind (or smart like a wizard)

Has to know all the words to Taylor swift’s songs

Likes to read books all the time

Have to like all the candy Amoreena doesn’t so that someone can eat the leftovers from her Halloween candy bag.

Has to be able to name all the Disney princesses

Must like cats. No if’s and's or butts.

It made him laugh, every rule was clearly Amoreena’s idea and Spencer must have ticked off all the boxes if she’s calling him dad already.

“You have to learn all the words to Taylor Swift, then you’ll be her boyfriend for real,” Amoreena informed him. “We have to follow the rules.”

“Well then, put the captions on so I can sing along,” Spencer compromised.

She hugged him with a big smile “you’re the best dad in the world.”

“You’re the best daughter,” he whispered as he held her back. “You make every day better by just being here.”

“So do you,” she replied before kissing his cheek softly and settling onto the couch beside him. “Thank you for wanting to be my dad.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anyone else’s.”

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

[qqueenofhades]

Re: the post you reblogged about Bush. I'm 21 and tbh feel like I can only vote for Bernie, can you explain if/why I shouldn't? Thanks and sorry if this is dumb or anything.

Oh boy. Okay, I’ll do my best here. Note that a) this will get long, and b) I’m old, Tired, and I‘m pretty sure my brain tried to kill me last night. Since by nature I am sure I will say something Controversial ™, if anyone reads this and feels a deep urge to inform me that I am Wrong, just… mark it down as me being Wrong and move on with your life. But also, really, you should read this and hopefully think about it. Because while I’m glad you asked this question, it feels like there’s a lot in your cohort who won’t, and that worries me. A lot.

First, not to sound utterly old-woman-in-a-rocking-chair ancient, people who came of age/are only old enough to have Obama be the first president that they really remember have no idea how good they had it. The world was falling the fuck apart in 2008 (not coincidentally, after 8 years of Bush). We came within a flicker of the permanent collapse of the global economy. The War on Terror was in full roar, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were at their height, we had Dick Cheney as the cartoon supervillain before we had any of Trump’s cohort, and this was before Chelsea Manning or Edward Snowden had exposed the extent of NSA/CIA intelligence-gathering/American excesses or there was any kind of public debate around the fact that we were all surveilled all the time. And the fact that a brown guy named Barack Hussein Obama was elected in this climate seems, and still seems tbh, kind of amazing. And Obama was certainly not a Perfect President ™. He had to scale back a lot of planned initiatives, he is notorious for expanding the drone strike/extrajudicial assassination program, he still subscribed to the overall principles of neoliberalism and American exceptionalism, etc etc. There is valid criticism to be made as to how the hopey-changey optimistic rhetoric stacked up against the hard realities of political office. And yet…. at this point, given what we’re seeing from the White House on a daily basis, the depth of the parallel universe/double standards is absurd.

Because here’s the thing. Obama, his entire family, and his entire administration had to be personally/ethically flawless the whole time (and they managed that – not one scandal or arrest in eight years, against the legions of Trumpistas now being convicted) because of the absolute frothing depths of Republican hatred, racial conspiracy theories, and obstruction against him. (Remember Merrick Garland and how Mitch McConnell got away with that, and now we have Gorsuch and Kavanaugh on the Supreme Court? Because I remember that). If Obama had pulled one-tenth of the shit, one-twentieth of the shit that the Trump administration does every day, he would be gone. It also meant that people who only remember Obama think he was typical for an American president, and he wasn’t. Since about… Jimmy Carter, and definitely since Ronald Reagan, the American people have gone for the Trump model a lot more than the Obama model. Whatever your opinion on his politics or character, Obama was a constitutional law professor, a community activist, a neighborhood organizer and brilliant Ivy League intellectual who used to randomly lie awake at night thinking about income inequality. Americans don’t value intellectualism in their politicians; they just don’t. They don’t like thinking that “the elites” are smarter than them. They like the folksy populist who seems fun to have a beer with, and Reagan/Bush Senior/Clinton/Bush Junior sold this persona as hard as they possibly could. As noted in said post, Bush Junior (or Shrub as the late, great Molly Ivins memorably dubbed him) was Trump Lite but from a long-established political family who could operate like an outwardly civilized human.

The point is: when you think Obama was relatively normal (which, again, he wasn’t, for any number of reasons) and not the outlier in a much larger pattern of catastrophic damage that has been accelerated since, again, the 1980s (oh Ronnie Raygun, how you lastingly fucked us!), you miss the overall context in which this, and which Trump, happened. Like most left-wingers, I don’t agree with Obama’s recent and baffling decision to insert himself into the 2020 race and warn the Democratic candidates against being too progressive or whatever he was on about. I think he was giving into the same fear that appears to be motivating the remaining chunk of Joe Biden’s support: that middle/working-class white America won’t go for anything too wild or that might sniff of Socialism, and that Uncle Joe, recalled fondly as said folksy populist and the internet’s favorite meme grandfather from his time as VP, could pick up the votes that went to Trump last time. And that by nature, no one else can.

The underlying belief is that these white voters just can’t support anything too “un-American,” and that by pushing too hard left, Democratic candidates risk handing Trump a second term. Again: I don’t agree and I think he was mistaken in saying it. But I also can’t say that Obama of all people doesn’t know exactly the strength of the political machine operating against the Democratic Party and the progressive agenda as a whole, because he ran headfirst into it for eight years. The fact that he managed to pass any of his legislative agenda, usually before the Tea Party became a thing in 2010, is because Democrats controlled the House and Senate for the first two years of his first term. He was not perfect, but it was clear that he really did care (just look up the pictures of him with kids). He installed smart, efficient, and scandal-free people to do jobs they were qualified for. He gave us Elena Kagan and Sonia Sotomayor to join RBG on the Supreme Court. All of this seems… like a dream.

That said: here we are in a place where Biden, Bernie Sanders, and Elizabeth Warren are the front-runners for the Democratic nomination (and apparently Pete Buttigieg is getting some airplay as a dark horse candidate, which… whatever). The appeal of Biden is discussed above, and he sure as hell is not my favored candidate (frankly, I wish he’d just quit). But Sanders and Warren are 85% - 95% similar in their policy platforms. The fact that Michael “50 Billion Dollar Fortune” Bloomberg started rattling his chains about running for president is because either a Sanders or Warren presidency terrifies the outrageously exploitative billionaire capitalist oligarchy that runs this country and has been allowed to proceed essentially however the fuck they like since… you guessed it, the 1980s, the era of voodoo economics, deregulation, and the free market above all. Warren just happens to be ten years younger than Sanders and female, and Sanders’ age is not insignificant. He’s 80 years old and just had a heart attack, and there’s still a year to go to the election. It’s also more than a little eye-rolling to describe him as the only progressive candidate in the race, when he’s an old white man (however much we like and approve of his policy positions). And here’s the thing, which I think is a big part of the reason why this polarized ideological purity internet leftist culture mistrusts Warren:

She may have changed her mind on things in the past.

Scary, right? I sound like I’m being facetious, but I’m not. An argument I had to read with my own two eyes on this godforsaken hellsite was that since Warren became a Democrat around the time Clinton signed Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, she sekritly hated gay people and might still be a corporate sellout, so on and etcetera. (And don’t even get me STARTED on the fact that DADT, coming a few years after the height of the AIDS crisis which was considered God’s Judgment of the Icky Gays, was the best Clinton could realistically hope to achieve, but this smacks of White Gay Syndrome anyway and that is a whole other kettle of fish.) Bernie has always demonstrably been a democratic socialist, and: good for him. I’m serious. But because there’s the chance that Warren might not have thought exactly as she does now at any point in her life, the hysterical and paranoid left-wing elements don’t trust that she might not still secretly do so. (Zomgz!) It’s the same element that’s feeding cancel culture and “wokeness.” Nobody can be allowed to have shifted or grown in their opinions or, like a functional, thoughtful, non-insane adult, changed their beliefs when presented with compelling evidence to the contrary. To the ideological hordes, any hint of uncertainty or past failure to completely toe the line is tantamount to heresy. Any evidence of any other belief except The Correct One means that this person is functionally as bad as Trump. And frankly, it’s only the Sanders supporters who, just as in 2016, are threatening to withhold their vote in the general election if their preferred candidate doesn’t win the primary, and indeed seem weirdly proud about it.

OK, boomer Bernie or Buster.

Here’s the thing, the thing, the thing: there is never going to be an American president free of the deeply toxic elements of American ideology. There just won’t be. This country has been built how it has for 250 years, and it’s not gonna change. You are never going to have, at least not in the current system, some dream candidate who gets up there and parrots the left-wing talking points and attacks American imperialism, exceptionalism, ravaging global capitalism, military and oil addiction, etc. They want to be elected as leader of a country that has deeply internalized and taken these things to heart for its entire existence, and most of them believe it to some degree themselves. So this groupthink white liberal mentality where the only acceptable candidate is this Perfect Non-Problematic robot who has only ever had one belief their entire lives and has never ever wavered in their devotion to doctrine has really gotten bad. The Democratic Party would be considered… maybe center/mild left in most other developed countries. It’s not even really left-wing by general standards, and Sanders and Warren are the only two candidates for the nomination who are even willing to go there and explicitly put out policy proposals that challenge the systematic structure of power, oppression, and exploitation of the late-stage capitalist 21st century. Warren has the billionaires fussed, and instead of backing down, she’s doubling down. That’s part of why they’re so scared of her. (And also misogyny, because the world is depressing like that.) She is going head-on after picking a fight with some of the worst people on the planet, who are actively killing the rest of us, and I don’t know about you, but I like that.

Of course: none of this will mean squat if she (or the eventual Democratic winner, who I will vote for regardless of who it is, but as you can probably tell, she’s my ride or die) don’t a) win the White House and then do as they promised on the campaign trail, and b) don’t have a Democratic House and Senate willing to have a backbone and pass the laws. Even Nancy Pelosi, much as she’s otherwise a badass, held off on opening a formal impeachment inquiry into Trump for months out of fear it would benefit him, until the Ukraine thing fell into everyone’s laps. The Democrats are really horrible at sticking together and voting the party line the way Republicans do consistently, because Democrats are big-tent people who like to think of themselves as accepting and tolerant of other views and unwilling to force their members’ hands. The Republicans have no such qualms (and indeed, judging by their enabling of Trump, have no qualms at all). 

The modern American Republican party has become a vehicle for no-holds-barred power for rich white men at the expense of absolutely everything and everyone else, and if your rationale is that you can’t vote for the person opposing Donald Goddamn Trump is that you’re just not vibing with them on the language of that one policy proposal… well, I’m glad that you, White Middle Class Liberal, feel relatively safe that the consequences of that decision won’t affect you personally. Even if we’re due to be out of the Paris Climate Accords one day after the 2020 election, and the issue of climate change now has the most visibility it’s ever had after years of big-business, Republican-led efforts to deny and discredit the science, hey, Secret Corporate Shill, am I right? Can’t trust ‘er. Let’s go have a craft beer.

As has been said before: vote as far left as you want in the primary. Vote your ideology, vote whatever candidate you want, because the only way to make actual, real-world change is to do that. The huge, embedded, all-consuming and horrible system in which we operate is not just going to suddenly be run by fairy dust and happy thoughts overnight. Select candidates that reflect your values exactly, be as picky and ideologically militant as you want. That’s the time to do that! Then when it comes to the general election:

America is a two-party system. It sucks, but that’s the case. Third-party votes, or refraining from voting because “it doesn’t matter” are functionally useless at best and actively harmful at worst.

Either the Democratic candidate or Donald Trump will win the 2020 election.

There is absolutely no length that the Republican/GOP machine, and its malevolent allies elsewhere, will not go to in order to secure a Trump victory. None.

Any talk whatsoever about “progressive values” or any kind of liberal activism, coupled with a course of action that increases the possibility of a Trump victory, is hypocritical at best and actively malicious at worst.

This is why I found the Democratic response to Obama’s “don’t go too wild” comments interesting. Bernie doubled down on the fact that his plans have widespread public support, and he’s right. (Frankly, the fact that Sanders and Warren are polling at the top, and the fact that they’re politicians and would not be crafting these campaign messages if they didn’t know that they were being positively received, says plenty on its own). Warren cleverly highlighted and praised Obama’s accomplishments in office (i.e. the Affordable Care Act) and didn’t say squat about whether she agreed or disagreed with him, then went right back to campaigning about why billionaires suck. And some guy named Julian Castro basically blew Obama off and claimed that “any Democrat” could beat Trump in 2020, just by nature of existing and being non-insane.

This is very dangerous! Do not be Julian Castro!

As I said in my tags on the Bush post: everyone assumed that sensible people would vote for Kerry in 2004. Guess what happened? Yeah, he got Swift Boated. The race between Obama and McCain in 2008, even after those said nightmare years of Bush, was very close until the global crash broke it open in Obama’s favor, and Sarah Palin was an actual disqualifier for a politician being brazenly incompetent and unprepared. (Then again, she was a woman from a remote backwater state, not a billionaire businessman.) In 2012, we thought Corporate MormonBot Mitt Fuggin’ Romney was somehow the worst and most dangerous candidate the Republicans could offer. In 2016, up until Election Day itself, everyone assumed that HRC was a badly flawed candidate but would win anyway. And… we saw how that worked out. Complacency is literally deadly.

I was born when Reagan was still president. I’m just old enough to remember the efforts to impeach Clinton over forcing an intern to give him a BJ in the Oval Office (This led by the same Republicans making Donald Trump into a darling of the evangelical Christian right wing.) I’m definitely old enough to remember 9/11 and how America lost its mind after that, and I remember the Bush years. And, obviously, the contrast with Obama, the swing back toward Trump, and everything that has happened since. We can’t afford to do this again. We’re hanging by a thread as it is, and not just America, but the entire planet.

So yes. By all means, vote for Sanders in the primary. Then when November 3, 2020 rolls around, if you care about literally any of this at all, hold your nose if necessary and vote straight-ticket Democrat, from the president, to the House and Senate, to the state and local offices. I cannot put it more strongly than that.

[leigh-rambles]

excerpt from a fic i'll probably never write

context: it's first person. protagonist (never gave her a name lol) and billy r sitting on a couch drinking in the middle of the night and reader is giving her backstory. they're currently platonic but if there's some undertones i totally intended for that. also protag knows abt kandahar. abt 1.1k words.

warning/s: mention of abortion, mention of the taliban & the ira, mention of child being killed

a/n: i actually do not know how i came up with this. i woke up at 3 am and decided Yep i'm gonna write about This.

-

"You said something when we met."

"I said a lot of things, you have to be more specific." I absentmindedly fidgeted with the rim of my beer bottle.

"'I don't mess around with servicemen.' At the time I was more surprised that you knew that. But now I'm wondering why you said that. I have a feeling there's more to it."

His dark eyes searched my face for answers. I closed mine and leaned against him. The New York skyline twinkled like the night sky out of his windows. The city that never sleeps. Out of all the cities I've lived in, New York was always my favourite. "I haven't told you about my childhood yet, have I?"

"I don't exactly have a hometown," I started hesitantly. "My mum picked up and left three days after I was born. No note. No nothing. Just left my dad with a newborn to take care of. She always said she was just twenty and the housewife thing -- the mother thing -- was never for her. You see, her parents built a 'munitions empire during World War II and gave her a trust fund worth almost $60 million when she turned 18. Horrible idea, in my opinion." 

By the time she gave birth to me, she already missed out on nine months of galas and parties and benefits, so she couldn't wait a second more, I guess.

I last checked on her when I was 16. Turns out she married some stuffy Englishman with a title and a stick up his arse. 

"My grandparents didn't let her get an abortion because they were God-fearing Catholics," I spat the word out like it was venom. I can feel his eyes on me, but I just stared at the ceiling.

"They're such goddamn hypocrites, the lot of them. My grandfather's the biggest military contractor for the US government. They can excuse funding wars and sending men to die in the Middle East so they can go to Aman every month but a pill is where they draw the line."

I caught myself before I said good men. He won't agree with me. But I still glanced at him. The pale moon's reflected on his face.

You're not the only one living off of blood money, I tried to say with my stare. Hell I'm literally living off of your blood. It can't get worse than that.

"My dad was a diplomat so he'd no choice but to take me everywhere he was assigned to. I don't remember much from when I was a baby, but he'd always tell me I was an angel. Never had tantrums. Never got airsick or jetlag or anything. A lot of my earliest memories are fuzzy and mixed up, but I was always in a plane in them."

"My first words were 'dada' while we were waiting for a bus in London. I had my first steps on the Sydney Opera House." My lips quirked up as the memories slowly came back. I was a child of the world. I've seen the best and worst of humanity before I turned ten. 

"But it wasn't all business class suites and tourist spots. Imagine any city in the world in the 90's that you'd never bring a child to, and I've most probably lived there for at least nine months. My dad would take me on walks in a pram in East Berlin. I played with Barbies while the Irish Republican Army planted car bombs a block away."

"I lived in Kabul when I was six y'know." I finally turned to him. "I don't remember much, though. Just that it was hot."

"Well it's still the same, so you're not missing much." I rolled my eyes in amusement. "I don't remember much but one story still sticks with me after so many years."

I swallowed. I can feel the soft dirt between my toes and the smell of roses and pennies in the air. Sticky heat and sweaty palms.

"I was in this neighbourhood in Kabul. It was the last time I went somewhere in the Middle East that wasn't school or an embassy. My dad was having cigars with this professor he met at the university. His son was my age, too, and we climbed up a rose wall to sneak out and play with the other local kids."

"There were about five of us and I was one of the youngest there. The eldest was an eight year old named Mariam. We played tag and climbed up trees and threw fruits and rocks at each other." I tapped on a faint scar on my eyebrow. "It's where I got this."

"There were Taliban patrolling around the area we were in, and one of the boys accidentally hit one of them in the chest. That was the moment I experienced real fear for the first time in my life. I was six so I didn't understand the politics of it, but I knew they were the bad guys. I grabbed Mariam's arm and pulled us into a bush. The leaves and twigs stuck into me but I was so scared I didn't make a sound."

"Mariam and I watched as one of the men came up to the boy. The boy was already crying and the man's face was so red. He screamed at him. D'you know any Pashto words? It's a hard language. I didn't understand much but from the way Mariam reacted it must've been horrible, what he said to the boy." 

Roses and dirt.

"The man pulled a gun out and shot him point blank in the chest."

Roses and dirt and pennies.

Mariam and I clutched each others hand so tight you might've thought we were holding on to a lifeline. Tears streamed down our face as we wept quietly, quietly, so that no one will hear us. We only left the bush after we were absolutely sure the Taliban had left. 

"I lost a shoe in the scuffle before the Taliban arrived and it was right there. Soaking in the boy's blood." I frowned and picked a loose thread from his pillow. "I thought I couldn't have left it there. My dad got it for me in Italy. I think my six year old brain was trying its best to have some sense of normalcy in the midst of all the chaos."

"So I stepped on the puddle of his blood and grabbed my shoe. There were bloody chunks on it. All I can smell was pennies and it slowly dawned on me that he was actually dead. I started crying again. By that point, the other two boys had already come back with the dads. You can just imagine how my dad saw the situation when he found his six year old daughter in a puddle of red, sobbing uncontrollably."

"We never went back to Afghanistan after that. We went to Tehran and Abu Dhabi and Kuwait but never back to Afghanistan. If he had to go, he left me in a boarding school somewhere."

"I said I didn't mess around with servicemen because once I inevitably get attached, I'd have to let go of them to fight men who are perfectly willing to murder a child at four in the afternoon. I'd have to let them go to fight men who are ready to kill themselves just to kill people who don't agree with their ideologies." 

I stared at him. "And I don't want to lose anyone like that again."

He stared back at me.

Looking away, he pulled me closer to him. "It's a good thing you're stuck with me now, then."

[monstrousgourmandizingcats]

{{ History asks! 4, 7, 8, 10, 11, 12, 14, 16, 23, 24, and 29? I've seen a lot of historical fashion and photography on your blog, but I don't know if that's a Passion^tm or a passing appreciation.

4. Favourite historical era?

Tough call, but in recent years I've been very interested in the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s, particularly the social/cultural history aspects that most ~WWII historians~ give short shrift.

7. Historical dressing, uniform, or costume?

I do like 30s/40s/50s dress, as well as Victorian dress and certain stages in the development of traditional Japanese dress (although unfortunately Heian court wear does very little for me to look at even though the concepts behind it are really interesting). I wouldn't say it's my main focus as an historian--that's religious history--but I'm passionate enough about it to more or less keep up conversations with my friends @absynthe--minded and @marzipanandminutiae, both of whom do specialize in fashion history.

8. What is the last thing you have read, listened to, or spoken of with historical reference?

I'm reading a book as we speak (The Golden Enclaves by Naomi Novik) where the narrator recently discussed the contemporary-history fun fact that Dubai is built on indentured labor.

10. What pieces of art (i.e. paintings, sculpures, lithographies, etc.) related to history do you like the most?

Ooh, extremely broad question. There's a painting in the Vatican museums called "The Triumph of History over Time" whose title I love, but the picture itself isn't anything particularly special. There's also a bust of Emperor Vespasian at the archeological museum in Naples that I'm especially fond of because he looks exactly like an aging, chubby, glad-handing "retail politician" today. Some things never change!

11. Have you ever participated in reenactment? What it was like?

Not yet!

12. Would you take part in reenactment? In what era and as whom?

Watch this space.

14. Why are you are interested in history?

I have a nostalgic temperament and grew up in a very history-rich area by American standards. It's also an interest that my late grandfather had and I was very close to him; part of my semi-focus on WWII is that he was a Pacific Theater veteran.

16. Do you own some historical item (e.g. coin, clothing, weapons, books, etc.) If yes, which one is your favourite?

I own quite a few antiques, yes. My favorite is an honest-to-goodness piece of eight (Spanish milled dollar) that I found at an antique shop in Ship Bottom, New Jersey for twenty or thirty dollars, a steal even then, when I was thirteen or fourteen years old. I misplaced it somewhere in my parents' house years ago, though, so my favorite antique of whose whereabouts I'm currently certain is a 1940s rayon crepe dress that I bought from a vintage clothing dealer I know.

23. What’s your favourite historical song or song containing historical references?

I'm not sure how to interpret this question; sorry!

24. Who do you consider to be one of the most underrated historical figures?

Emperor Antoku is underrated among Japanese rulers because he's one of the very few who never did anything reprehensible, seeing as he was killed by his grandmother to avoid capture at the Battle of Dan-no-ura when he was six years old.

29. Are there any great historical mysteries that you are interested in?

Wallace Fard Muhammad, the founder of the Nation of Islam. We know nothing about him for certain before or after his work setting up the religion in Great Depression-era Detroit, and what's known inconclusively, or suspected, has a ton of inconsistencies. He was born in Oregon, or Afghanistan, or New Zealand, or somewhere else; he lived in North Carolina, or California, or both, before showing up in Detroit; he was a restaurant manager, or a carny, or both, by occupation...you get the idea.

I’ve seen plenty of “Tumblr Ask Challenges”, but none involving history. What a shame…