#so they gave my sister her horse based on the fact the she has long legs and looks athletic

[skibeegames]

Grove Family Introduction

✩°｡🧸𓏲⋆.🧺𖦹 ₊˚

Welcome to my Grove family introduction. This is the current legacy family I am playing but not my OG legacy family save. As this family is my current household this is the family that will currently be featured the most on this Simblr at the moment. But I do intend to show my other legacy family (play is on hold for this world as I am building my ultimate save file and want to put that out chronologically) in the future. I also wanted to put in a 'fun fact' and say that with most of my gameplay when new generations are born I will randomize traits and aspirations and create their looks with CC based off how they originally looked and dressed before makeover's so that they have more personality.

I will be posting some past screenshots from this save to catch up to the current portrait from above and to show how our founder started out. So spoilers incoming obviously, haha. <3

Brienne Grove

Brienne is the Matriarch of the Grove family and the founder. She is very cottagecore and a very sweet sim. I am very biased as I made her but I think she is very beautiful and just has all over comforting mum vibes. Her aspiration is soulmate and her traits are romantic, cat lover and loner. The Grove family did own 2 cats but they both passed shortly before the birth of their final child.

Akira Kibo

Akira Kibo is Brienne's loving husband and I think she will have definitely completed her soulmate aspiration with him. I gave Akira a CC makeover as he was originally a townie from City Living. Akira's aspiration is The curator and his traits are self-assured, jealous, and romantic. Brienne and Akira met on a night out and after a long night chatting (woohooing), they found out they were expecting a new addition and have been inseparable ever since.

Atlas and Mabel Grove

Brienne and Akira were most surprised (me too) when they found it was addition(s), plural not singular. These are the twins, Atlas and Mabel. Mabel is one of my favourite sims. I have never seen such a unique sim. She is so pretty. Her aspiration is Successful lineage and her traits are bookworm, horse lover and neat. Atlas has the Beach life aspiration and his traits are goofball, clumsy and party animal. These two were obviously very close as children.

Willow and Aubrie Grove

Willow on the left was the next child and after her came Aubrie. Aubrie is the last teen left at the moment and these 2 are very much middle child personified. Willow has a secret her family does not know of and Aubrie is just all around adorable, she was the perfect little sister until her little brother came into the equation quite late. Willow's aspiration is Werewolf initiate (quite telling what her secret is now) and her traits are outgoing, creative and cheerful. Aubrie's aspiration is Party Animal and her traits are music lover and socially awkward.

Myles and Howdy Grove

Finally is Myles and Howdy Grove, yes, I am grouping the baby with the horse. These two are literally the cutest. Myles is definitely one of the most if not the cutest infant I have had so far. He is a sensitive infant. Miss Howdy is Mabel's horse but she is the family pet and she is still a little baby but will end up being quite big as she is a Clydesdale horse. Her traits are fearful, mellow and defiant.

So there it is, the Grove family so far which is soon expanding 👀. I hope you enjoy my posts about them now that you got to know them.

🌱🍄🌻��🌿🌷🍎🍀🍓🥕☘️🍃🍯🌸🥧

[acourtofthought]

Selfish-

"lacking consideration for others; concerned chiefly with one's own personal profit or pleasure."

And it hadn’t stopped her from buying me three small tins of paint—red, yellow, and blue—

Elain, the only one of us who bothered to really speak to him at all.

Elain had taken charge of planning and finding me a last-minute dress,

Elain, to my surprise, had a horse, a satchel of food, and supplies ready

“Feyre gave and gave—for years. Let us now help her. Help … others.”

But Elain’s cry—a warning. A warning to— To my right, now exposed, Tamlin ran for me. To grab me at last.

“The lady said she was hungry, so we went to make her something. But—she said she wanted to learn how, so …

Elain’s pale hands lurch—gripping the girl by her neck, holding her as tightly as she could.

Elain had already readied the garden for winter,

She’d bought them those cozy, fuzzy blankets from the weaver, one raspberry pink and the other lilac.

Elain was in the kitchen, helping Nuala and Cerridwen prepare the evening meal.

My sister rose to her feet. “I should get refreshments.”

“How long have you been working on this?” A one-shouldered shrug. “Since dawn.” She added, “Nuala and Cerridwen were up hours earlier.”

“Please don’t wait on my account,” she said,

Her eyes lifted to mine in the silence. “Happy birthday.” I offered a nod of thanks. “Elain made the cake,”

Or take his eyes off Nesta as she undid the brown paper wrapping on the box and revealed a set of five novels in a leather box. She read the titles, then lifted her head to Elain.

I asked them for recommendations, and the woman—female, I mean … She said this author’s books were her favorite.”

Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

plucked the cerulean-and-cream scarf Elain had given her for her birthday

“Using me.”

“Find me when you wish to begin.”

Every character is selfish to some degree but I notice that Elain is often labeled as more selfish than the rest.

The definition of selfish is "lacking consideration for others".

Elain was the only one of the sisters who really showed care for their father despite the fact that he didn't do much for them after his injury.

She showed care for Feyre by helping her find a dress for the ball their father was hosting, helped plan the ball that was being held in Feyre's honor and helped by packing her supplies before her journey back to Prythian.

Elain stood up against Nesta so that Feyre could use their manor to meet with the Queens despite what the association with Fae might mean for her engagement.

After being kidnapped, she expressed concern for Feyre and warned her before Tamlin could grab her.

She asked to be taught how to bake rather than allowing the twins to cook for and serve her.

Elain is taking care of Rhys and Feyre's garden for them. She has always enjoyed gardening in her own home but it is a kindness to do it in a home that does not belong to you.

She often cooks for the entire IC and insists they not give her special treatment while waiting for her to return after changing.

Despite the fact that neither Az or Nesta got Elain gifts that first Solstice, she still bought them gifts the next Solstice. Elain was also the only person who did get Nesta a gift. She also goes out of her way to buy gifts for everyone that is important to her.

She went out of her way to make Feyre's birthday special.

She also made sure to give others credit when someone was complimenting her.

Elain offered to help with the Trove despite everything that happened to her with the Cauldron.

She saved Briar even though that could have made it more difficult for she herself to be saved. She also risked her own safety by placing herself near the King in order to save her sister.

If you're basing whether someone is selfish on how many dangerous situations they put themselves in then, sure, Elain isn't the one who often throws herself into danger. But I feel like it's overlooked the IC does that because it's their job. They are the protectors of the Night Court. Fulfilling your duties isn't the only measure of how selfless someone is.

Elain does not allow herself to be "served" her meals, she's an active participant and serves others because she enjoys taking care of them. She does not need the credit and glory for things she deserves to be acknowledged for, but turns the attention to someone else instead. She is thoughtful and kind and cares for others despite how they act or what they do for her. She has saved three people's lives for sure and who knows how many more by finding a place for the Humans to stay during the war.

Yes, I realize she's not being considerate of Lucien at this time but I think it's extremely unfair to expect more out of her regarding that situation. Like it or not, Lucien is indirectly connected to her trauma and loss of her fiance and while I think she'll move past that and accept the bond, she should not be expected to sacrifice her healing and what she needs right now for a male who is tied into a past she's trying to overcome.

In every other aspect, she is one of the characters who expresses the most consideration for others on a regular basis.

[totogreenleaf]

I didn't have service while I was originally freaking out about this but y'all I got to ride a horse last week! It was only for an hour but it was amazing! He was this short little round thing named Hubcap and he used to be a wild stallion that they caught in Nevada I think and trained and he was such a dear. Of course he kept trying to stop and eat which wasn't allowed but I loved him nonetheless.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Long Con Part One

Prologue | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: Oh hey there! Welcome to Dany Has Been Googling Art Stuff For Like Two Months The Series. Warnings: Cursing (meant to mention that before WHOOPSADOODLE sorry) Summary: You’d never seen Agent Pike look anything less than collected, even in the thick of a case. 

“The Raft of the Medusa, huh?”

You didn‘t bother to look away from your laptop where you were stationed at your lectern.

“Géricault did good work,” You answered as you finished answering the email that you were working on. You knew that this couldn’t be a terribly timely or pressing matter, because the FBI agent that had shown up had bothered to sit through the second half of your lecture that morning. 

“How long have you guys been up to romanticism?” He asked.

“Oh, just this week. Géricault’s got a good range...Landscapes, horses, portraits… horses... current events… horses…”

“Lots of horses.”

“Yeah, he was kind of a horse girl.” 

You finally sent the email off and turned to look at Agent Marcus Pike. The man was, mercifully, still looking at the recreation of the Géricault painting. 

“This one of your old ones?” He asked. You laughed a little, leaning against the lectern. 

“No. I’ve got a friend in Atlanta that specializes in recreations of Delacroix and Géricault.” 

“He’s talented. I’ve seen the original, this is… Incredible.” 

“Mm, I know. The corpses almost look happy in this version.”

Pike’s brow rose and he gave you a look out of the corner of his eye.

“So?” You asked, “How can I aid the bureau today, Agent Pike?” 

He gave a small smile, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he turned to face you more fully.

“I’m actually not here on bureau business,” he told you, peering at you nervously. Your brows rose. You’d never seen Agent Pike look anything less than collected, even in the thick of a case. 

“You’ve got my attention,” You reassured him. 

--

You were trying so hard not to laugh, if not for the earnest look on Pike’s face. You watched him as you ran your finger along the handle of your coffee mug. The two of you had taken up residence at your favorite coffee shop and bakery, There Ain’t Muffin To It. It was a little out of the way of the college’s campus, but you preferred that - you hardly ever ran into your students that way.

Pike had insisted on paying for your coffee, and then he’d explained his… Situation. 

His fucking hilarious situation that you were really, really trying not to laugh at. 

“So…Just-- To make sure I’m on the level here,” You said, “Your sister Marnie is getting married in two weeks, and she was probably going to set you up with some cute hometown girl, and instead…” You had to pause, biting your lip to tamp down a laugh before going on, “Instead, you told her that you’re bringing… Me.” 

“That is the long and short of it.”

“And can I ask what possessed you to blurt out the name of an ex-fencer-turned-art-professor?” 

“I panicked and I was looking at the Coleman file.”

“Ah,” You nodded. You’d assisted Pike’s team on that case. A man named Augustus Coleman had recently come forward, claiming to have found Oudry’s White Duck. The work had, in fact, been a fake (though it was a very, very convincing one). You’d spent time with Agent Pike, looking over the painting itself and helping his team track down Coleman’s forger. It had been a lot of long nights, a lot of hard work, but Pike had given you implicit trust, and you’d gotten the job done. 

And now, apparently, he was trusting you with this, too. 

“I don’t… Lie well,” Marcus added, and you couldn’t help but laugh then. 

“I can see that.”

Marcus smiled, “I know this is an inconvenience. I wouldn’t ask you to fly down for the week I’m gonna be there--”

“But you’d want to?” 

Marcus winced, “My sister’s already passed your name on to my mom and I’m getting questions. You could just come in for the weekend. I’d pay for your airfare,” He tacked on. 

“Wow, you are desperate.” 

“What you said, about my sister setting me up with some-- hometown girl? It’s accurate, I’m pretty sure I know exactly who she would’ve tried to set me up with.”

“Bad?”

“No, she’s nice, but we don’t suit and Marnie hasn’t quite gotten that message.” 

Your brow furrowed, considered something. 

“Tell me something,” You leaned forward on your forearms, watching Marcus.

“Sure.”

“You could've found someone else to bring along, asked them to use my name and fake it to your family for two days. You’re actually asking me instead. Why?” 

Marcus’ eyes searched your face.

“Couple of reasons. Remember a minute ago when I said I was bad about lying?” 

You chuckled, “Uh-huh. The other reason?” 

“I need to go down there with someone that I trust. Someone that I know will have my back.”

“And someone that can lie?” 

“Exactly. See what you just said, about asking someone else to use your name? Didn’t even occur to me.”

You were quiet for a moment, considering Pike. The week that he’d named for the wedding was spring break-- you didn’t have any plans set in stone, just papers to grade. 

“...Can I think about it?” You asked. Marcus’ smile brightened at that. 

“Of course,” He nodded, “I appreciate it.” 

You believed that-- the man couldn’t lie for shit. 

-- 

That evening found you in your apartment, grading quizzes for your Intro to Greek and Roman Art course. Most of the students had a good handle on the subject, so the grading and corrections didn’t take you long. Once you’d finished, you poured yourself a glass of wine and settled down on your couch to find something to watch for the evening. 

Once you’d chosen a show, though, you really couldn’t focus on it. You had, after all, told Marcus that you’d consider his proposal. You were...Fond of Agent Pike. The agents that you’d worked with prior to his transfer to the D.C. office had all treated you with varying degrees of contempt when asking for your help on a given case; they’d kept your interactions to the barest of bare minimums, held you at arm’s length in regards to the cases that you were being asked to assist on, and hardly ever updated you on case outcomes - not that they were required to do so, but you had often wondered. Marcus Pike was so different from his predecessors. When he’d come to the D.C. office and had first needed your help on a case, he’d gone out of his way to introduce himself, the particulars of the case, and to say that, “any assistance that you could provide would be greatly appreciated.” And it hadn’t felt glib, either. You’d felt like the man actually wanted your help, wasn’t that he was just reaching out to you to cover his bases. You’d assumed that after that first case, the niceties would fall away, but Marcus had never been anything less than kind to you - even when he was stressed. He treated you with respect, understood that your time was your own, that you’d put your criminal past behind you. You were now using what you’d learned in that world to help the Bureau, and to teach.

The time you’d spent with him on the Coleman case had been the biggest eye-opener. He’d come to understand more about how you used to operate - the way you’d sold forgeries to money-grubbing, self-involved wealthy elites that cared more about owning a one-of-a-kind artwork, uncaring of where it had come from or why you had it; they hadn’t cared about the questionable and fake provenance, had only looked so close when examining the work itself. Your grandmother had been a painter, and a masterful forger - she had been the one to paint most of the forgeries that you’d helped to fence. She had taught you her tricks, connected you with the network that she operated within - she had gotten you arrested, and had been furious when you hadn’t taken the fall for her. You and Marcus had spent a lot of time together during the Coleman case - mostly working, but you’d had some downtime. There were times when he insisted that you sat down and ate, else the food would get cold. Others, when he had a question, he’d come to your office at the college, but he’d bring coffee with him, or some kind of snack - a little way of showing thanks before he even asked his question, even if you didn’t have an answer for him. Marcus was a good man. It was no wonder he needed help lying, especially to his family. Something he’d said to you that afternoon had stuck with you, though, something that was floating above the rest: “I need to go down there with someone that I trust. Someone that I know will have my back.” Marcus Pike trusted you. He was comfortable with you having his back - he was comfortable with you being around his family for a week. 

You picked up your phone, scrolling through your contacts to find Marcus’. You hit the ‘call’ button before raising it to your ear. He picked up on the first ring. “Hello?” He asked, and you smiled at the anticipatory tone. “Think they’ve still got any seats left on your flight?” You asked. Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​​ ; @spideysimpossiblegirl​​ ; @blueeyesatnight​​ ; @elen-aranel​​ ; @yespolkadotkitty​​ ; @artsymaddie​​ ; @phoenixhalliwell​​ ; @lunaserenade​​ ; @winniedaboo ; @empress-palpat1ne​​ ; @randomness501​ ; @nutmeg-20 ; @leonieb​

[yikesharringrove]

Show Pony

Chapter 2: Legends Never Die

Read on Ao3

-

Billy was watching porn when Steve texted.

He’s never clicked out of a video so fucking fast in his life.

The message just read hey, this is steve :) which like, of course, the fucker uses little emoticons. Of course , he types out little smiley faces. It’s so dumb. It’s so cute.

And Billy just stared at it. One hand still on his dick, the other hovering over the keyboard.

What the fuck does he reply?

Obviously, Steve knows it’s Billy. Like. Duh.

So he just tapped out a little Hey.

Steve texted back almost immediately.

you have a good day? Billy found himself grinning maniacally, so he rolled over to hold his pillow close to his chest, burying his chin into it. He didn’t wanna deal with the fact that this stupid adorable cowboy was making him smile and flush. Stupid.

Yeah, it was nice. Way too hot, but nice.

lol try wearing jeans in that heat. sweatin through my damn saddle. Billy laughed into his pillow.

Jesus, you’re such a fuckin hick. Billy bit his tongue when he pressed send.

And Steve just sent back >:(. And God. He’s so cute. Billy. Hates him.

And then Billy’s phone buzzed twice, another brand new text from Steve.

One that made Billy’s heart fucking stop.

i have the day off tomorrow. no tiedown on the schedule. you should come by and we could hang

Which sounded like. A date. It sounded like a fucking date. And Billy wanted to ask. If Steve’s invitation was for a goddamn date.

But like, he can’t just ask. Can he? Is that weird? Okay, maybe he’ll just-

Should I bring Max?

Right? Like if Steve says to bring his little sister, then there’s no way it’s a date. Because, who would want their date to bring their little sister? People who are just hanging out as friends, that’s who.

was hoping it'd just be you and me

And hoo boy. Hoo boy. That’s. That’s a fucking. That’s a date.

Then yeah. Just you and me.

And Steve sent him another little :) because the fucker loves his emoticon smiley faces. They’re not even, like, actual emojis. Steve doesn’t take the time to use fucking apostrophes, but he does type out little faces.

And maybe Billy’s spending too much time thinking about the smiley little shits.

But, like. It’s just. It’s Steve. And it’s a cute fucking thing that Steve does.

Billy’s pretty much obsessed with him by now.

And maybe Billy should ask for, like, a time to meet. But he was halfway through a video and his cock’s still hard and kinda starting to ache, pressed against the mattress where it was. He rolled over, slid his hand back into his shorts, and wrapped his fingers around the base of himself.

So it’s easy just to, slide it up. Run his fingers along his length. Pretend his rough hand is Steve’s rough hand. Pretend the tight vice grip is Steve’s mouth. Hot and slick around him.

He could picture Steve, on his knees in the dirt, those tight fucking jeans beginning to stain at the knees, those big pretty eyes looking at him so reverently, so softly.

And he came all over his hand, pictured those pink pretty lips covered with cum. Imagined scooping it on his fingers, pressing them into Steve’s mouth, making him lick them clean.

It wasn’t even the most depraved fantasy Billy’s ever had. But it was for sure in his top five best orgasms. No doubt about it.

He wiped his hand on the sheets, turning onto his side, staring at the short little conversation with Steve.

Thinking about their fucking date tomorrow.

Max was on his ass the second he woke up.

She cornered him as he was coming out of the bathroom, making him startle and nearly smack her.

“The fuck you doing out here, Shitbrid?”

“What are we doing today?”

“ We aren’t doing shit all. I will be heading out. Soon.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, jutting her jaw in a way he absolutely knows she learned from him.

“Are you going to the rodeo?” she hissed through her teeth at him. “Are you going to see-”

“That’s none ‘a your fuckin’ business.” He pushed past her, lumbering down the hall, almost making it into his bedroom before she slipped inside with him, slapping his elbow and kicking the door closed.

“Are you going on a date ?”

Billy glared at her. He clenched his jaw, speaking through gritted teeth.

“Pretty sure we agreed not to fucking talk about this shit here.”

She pursed her lips, shifting her jaw.

“Just nod or shake your head.”

Billy kept his head very still.

She kicked him once in the shin before stomping out of his room, nearly slamming the door, catching it at the last minute, and closing it quietly.

Neil didn’t approve of doors slamming in his house.

It was rule number. Three probably. First rule was don’t be a smartass. Second rule was don’t be Billy. That was kind of an unspoken rule. But it was there.

And Billy was faced with his newest dilemma.

What does he wear?

Because it’s gonna be another hot fucking day, and his typical date outfits have more, more.

He’s got one clean pair of cut-offs left. Okay. Yes. And he puts on a printed button-up shirt. Leaves it almost all the way unbuttoned, because, like, of course, he does. He’s got a good body. He wants Steve to see it.

He’ll be mostly cool, and he looks better than he did last time he saw Steve.

Black Converse complete the look, and he maybe spends more time than he usually would putting his hair into a ponytail, using one of Max’s bright scrunchies.

She’ll get pissed if she notices it but. Whatever. He steals them from her all the fucking time.

He hasn’t looked at his phone all morning, figured he could head over to the rodeo, and whenever Steve texted, he’d play it cool and act like he wasn’t already there.

But, cowboy hick Steve was obviously an early riser. As the most recent text Billy has is from that cowboy hick Steve. At six. In the morning.

you wanna meet up around ten?

It was currently just past nine.

Does Billy head up there now and wander around the grounds for a bit?

Yes. Yes, he does. Because frankly, he looks gay as fuck in this outfit and he should probably dip before his dad sees.

He sends Steve a thumbs up and the three dots show up almost immediately, showing Steve typing.

you got a car right? can you pick me up outside of the parking lot? i gotta get outta here

And Fuck. Billy knows that feeling.

No problem. You wanna get breakfast? I know a good diner if you’re into that kinda thing.

hell yeah im into that :)

Ah, yes. There was that little happy face just in time to give Billy lots of nice heart palpitations.

Great. That’s what he needs. To get sappy and gross over Steve’s emoticons. Again.

He slipped out of his house without interference, taking a lap around the block just to kill time before setting off to the fairgrounds.

He was trying to make his car look presentable, shoving the few gum wrappers Max left by the gear shift into his pocket, brushing off any stray cigarette ash with one of the baby wipes in the glove box.

And by the time he reached the fairgrounds, he saw Steve skulking along the front of the parking lot, hopping over cracks in the sidewalk like the cutest little bunny.

It was the most adorable thing in the fucking world.

Billy pulled up next to him, blaring the horn and watching Steve startle at the sound.

He was wearing cut-off denim shorts like Billy’s, and a goddamn crop top. It had the silhouette of a horse on its hind legs, its mane flowing in the wind behind it, and Harrington American Rodeo brandished across his chest. It was cut just at his waistline, where his body nipped in right above his hips.

Steve smiled his pretty smile at Billy, just about skipping around the front of the car to slide into the passenger seat.

And Billy tried not to think about how fucking good Steve looked in the passenger seat of his car, those long fucking legs all on display, his thighs, thick and pale, covered in dark hair.

“Hi,” Steve was leaning with one elbow on the center console, putting himself in Billy’s space, and Billy was thankful for his dark aviator sunglasses, as his eyes went wide and probably panicked with Steve moving in so close.

Because if Steve was leaning in to kiss him, that kinda feels like a lot. And Billy’s not a prude, not by any means but he's, he’s got lines, and rules, and-

Steve just knocked his head into Billy’s shoulder, leaning back to buckle his seatbelt, like headbutting Billy’s shoulder was casual and normal.

And fuck.

Billy’s in so deep for this guy he barely fucking knows.

All he could do was push the car forward, and will away the flush on his cheeks. And pretend like he hadn’t jerked off to the person sitting next to him less than twelve hours ago.

“So. Billy. Tell me about yourself.” Steve shifted in his seat, turning to look right at Billy. “All I know is that you’ve got a kid sister, a cool car, and that you’re really hot.”

Billy smirked, turning to look at Steve over his glasses, found Steve biting his bottom lip demurely.

“Well, there’s not much else to know .”

“Oh, come on. Where are you from? How old are you? Shit, probably shoulda asked that sooner. Please, tell me you’re not fifteen or something.”

“I’m literally driving, right now. And relax, Pretty Boy. I’m eighteen next month.”

“Okay. Okay, good. I’m eighteen, by the way. Just so you know, that I’m not fifteen.” Billy shook his head, rolling his eyes with a smile. “But I still want answers to the other questions.”

“Well, I’m from here. Born and raised in San Diego. Uh, I graduated high school in May. And I work at the diner I’m about to take you to, which might be the lamest shit in the world, but they have good pancakes.”

“I like pancakes.” Steve was fiddling with some of the knobs in the car, turning the air conditioner up and down. Billy was just resisting slapping his hand away.

And then he reached for the volume knob on the radio, turning up the Ratt Billy had playing, and audibly scoffed.

“God, I should’ve known you liked this .”

“Yeah? What about it?”

“Just, you know. Sex charged drug-fueled hair metal.”

“Oh my God. What in the fuck ?” He gave Steve as incredulous a look as he could muster. “Are you a housewife from the fifties?”

Steve gave one of his excellent bright laughs at Billy, and Billy’s gut got a little bit gay and a little bit fluttery.

“Alright, Stevie. I’ll bite. What kinda music are you into? And if you say country I’m blowing my fuckin’ brains out.”

“Well, unfortunate then because, yeah. Fuckin’ country, man. Although, I prefer folk.”

“See, you call my music sex-charged and drug-fueled, at least I’m not listening to posers rant about their tractors.”

“Oh, no. I hate that shit as much as you do. I mean like, Johnny Cash. Willie Nelson, you know? Emmylou Harris, Marty Robbins, Miss Dolly. The good stuff. There’s like, a few modern artists that are doing the same kinda thing that I like. It’s all just stories and good music.”

“That’s all my music is. Stories set to music. And, you say my shit is drug-fueled, you do know that Willie Nelson is famous for being a stoner? And that Johnny Cash publicly dealt with addiction and all that?”

“Well, yeah, but they’ve got class.”

“Okay, Cowboy. I’ll let you die on that fuckin’ hill while I party it up on mine to some eighties metal.”

And Steve reached out to shove Billy lightly, laughing while he did it.

“Agree to fucking disagree then. Just take me to pancakes and don’t try to reason with me about shitty music.”

“Then change the subject. Tell me other things about you besides your terrible music taste.”

Steve leaned back in his seat, blowing out a puff of air.

“Uh, I mean. Jeez. I don’t do much besides the rodeo, you know? Just movin’ all over the country.”

“That must be. Exhausting.”

Steve reached out to brush his fingers against the dashboard mindlessly.

“It’s not so bad. I try to make friends in the towns, you know? Makes it kinda fun.”

“Where were you born?”

“Indiana. Really small town. My mom and I stayed there for three years while my father traveled around. I’ve been on the road since.”

“Holy shit. Since you were three? Did you, like, go to school?”

“No. Uh, I actually have a tutor that’s on the road with us, and I’m. You know. Supposed to get my high school diploma soon. I’m behind schedule since,” he waved his hand flippantly. He was staring at his lap, playing with the frayed hem of his shorts. And Billy was grasping for another subject as Steve’s cheeks went red. Because obviously school, had struck a nerve.

“What kinda horse is June?”

“She’s an American quarter horse. That’s the usual type for most rodeo events. They’re good ranch horses because they’re a little more compact. I’ve been with June for five years now, and she’s a beast. I’ve got two others with me, on rotation so that none of them get too tired doing the shows over and over. June, Patsy, and Loretta. They’re all quarter horses, and each one is only about fourteen and a half hands tall. I like my horses a bit smaller for tie-down.”

“I understood, honestly, like, nothing of what you just said.”

Steve tossed his head back, laughing loudly over the radio at Billy’s confusion.

He laughed a lot.

Billy liked it.

“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you rodeo slang. You’ll be a natural,” Steve said, reaching out to where Billy’s right hand was resting on the gearshift, wrapping his finger’s around Billy’s wrist.

“What about their names?”

“All ladies of country. Loretta Lynn, Patsy Cline, and June Carter. Carter-Cash, I guess. She married Johnny but had a career in her own right.”

“Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ hick.”

“You’ve said that before. Just because I’m in the rodeo-”

“No, it’s because you’re in the rodeo, and listen to country music, and wear fucking cowboy boots -”

“They are literally made for riding horses, okay? That’s why they were invented .”

Billy rolled his eyes again, but he was smiling brightly as he pulled into the diner parking lot.

It wasn’t too busy for a Sunday morning. Billy bets it’ll pick up in an hour or so for the brunch crowd.

He began working at the diner three years ago, bussing tables and washing dishes, getting paid under the table because technically, he was too young to work. He was a server now, usually taking the evening dinner shifts to miss that time when his dad was home from work.

The bell jingled above their heads as Billy held the door open for Steve, and Billy stuck his tongue out at the kitchen staff, leaning over the counter to swipe a few menus from the stack.

He led Steve to a booth in the back corner, waving at Lorraine, the older woman who was working their section, gesturing to the booth for Steve to take a seat.

“Wow. You’ve totally got this place on lock.”

Billy grinned at him, leaning against the wall to stretch his legs up on the booth next to him.

“I’ve worked here a few years. Kinda done all the staff positions. It’s a nice place.”

“Well, then what do you recommend?” Steve carefully opened the laminated menu, his big eyes flicking over the pictures on the side of every dish.

“Pancakes are good, so are the waffles though, if you’re into that. I like the full breakfast. Eggs, bacon or sausage, hash browns, pancakes, or toast. Kinda the best of everything.”

Steve snapped his menu shut, smiling softly at Billy.

“I’m trusting you with my breakfast here. It better be good .”

Lorraine approached their table, already pouring Billy a cup of coffee and sliding it to him along the table.

“You really love us that much you find your way in here on your day off?”

“Only you, Lorraine. Everybody else can fuck off for all I care.”

She shook her head, rolling her eyes at Billy.

“You want the usual cook-up?”

“Yes, please.”

She took his unopened menu, turning and smiling brightly at Steve.

“What can I get for you, Darling.”

Steve’s eyes were wide when he looked up at her, his cheeks starting to flush.

“Uh, just, the same as Billy, please.”

“You want a coffee?”

“No, Ma’am. Just a water for me please.” He handed his menu back, giving her a bright smile, his cheeks a soft rosy red.

Lorraine winked at Billy, nodding her head once in Steve’s general direction. Billy waved her off before she could say something embarrassing.

“Sorry, I get kinda weird sometimes.” Steve had pulled a napkin out of the dispenser on their table and was looking down at it, tearing off little chunks and rolling them into balls.

“That’s okay. Lorraine gets it. Plus, you were polite, and that’s all that matters. I wouldn’t be caught dead with you if you were an ass to servers.”

“Oh, God. My dad is such an ass when it comes to, really any staff. Like, servers, or, frankly, most of the people that work for him. Don’t even get me started on the animal carers. I mean, that’s probably the most important job at the whole rodeo, and he’s been trying to dock pay left, right, and fucking center.” Steve rolled his big eyes, huffing like Max.

“Wait, so your dad is like, the head of the whole operation?”

“My name is Steve Harrington,” and Steve pointed at his shirt, the name Harrington emblazoned over the horse.

“Oh damn. I thought that name was familiar when I saw the shirt. Figured I had just seen the rodeo name or something.”

“Nope. That’s me. A whole Harrington. My great-grandpa started the rodeo. He was, like, an actual ranch hand. Started one in the town we’re from. My grandpa was the one who got the idea to take it on the road. My dad came up through it like I did. He was in steer roping. And basically, his end goal is that I start running the whole show in a few years. Take over for him.”

“And, you don’t want to?”

“Nah. I don’t really have a brain for business. Don’t have a brain for much other than riding and tie-down, honestly. Don’t know the first thing about how to run a traveling rodeo.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

Steve smiled at him, but his eyes seemed sad, and his smile was tight.

“You got plans for next year? College or anything?”

“Nah. I think college is, on the horizon, but I’m taking a gap year. Saving up to move out and pay for school and everything. Probably gonna go to community college to save some money. And then maybe grad school?”

“That’s smart, you know? Finding ways to save up. My dad is debating pushing college on me. Like, if I do run the business, there’s some shit I should know going into it, right? But I think he also sees that I’m way too dumb for college, and, like, I don’t need a degree to get hired. I’ll just,” Steve made an upwards sweeping gesture with his right hand. A gesture that Billy understood to vaguely mean nepotism.

“What would you rather do? If not run the thing.”

“I like tie-down, and I could feasibly do it for a long time. I could branch into other events, too, like steer roping and all that. Same idea as calf roping but a different animal. Literally. It’s a steer. But I’d be content just doing the events until I croak. I have absolutely no desire to rise through the ranks, or whatever.” Steve rolled his eyes, balling up the little napkin wads he had made into another napkin from the dispenser. Billy appreciated it. He’s had to clean up crap like that from this very floor. “I just love being around the rodeo. The animals and all the people. I don’t really wanna be anywhere else.”

“At least you have something you love. Like, you’d be happy to do that for the rest of your life, and not in an I’ve got nothing better to do way, but in an, I’m passionate about this way. A lot of people don’t really. Get that.” Billy included.

It’s not that he doesn’t have passions, it’s just that they’re not necessarily sustainable to him.

He knows he’s dangling by a thread with his father. Knows after his eighteenth birthday, he should be ready to be kicked out or asked to pay rent at any time. He needs a career that’ll get him some fucking money if he wants to get out and cut off his dad entirely. He can’t be forced to go crawling back to him because he wanted to self-publish his gay ass poetry that never took off or drum in a rock band that went nowhere.

To name a few.

“Yeah, I mean. Sometimes I think that I probably would’ve never set foot in a rodeo if I wasn’t literally born into one, so I kinda wonder who I’d be if this wasn’t everything I knew, but I still really love doing it, and it’s something that I’m actually good at, which speaks volumes.”

They were interrupted by Lorraine returning, placing two identical plates in front of them, a glass of water for Steve, and pulling hot sauce and ketchup out of her apron pocket.

“You two let me know if you need anything else.”

Steve beamed at her, thanking her softly and Billy’s heart fluttered like a stupid idiot.

They tucked in, Steve shoving food into his mouth until his cheeks were bulging, chewing aggressively. It made Billy laugh and nearly spew coffee all over the table.

“I figured you’d have better manners, being the heir to a rodeo dynasty or whatever.”

Steve pulled a face, showing Billy the chewed-up food in his mouth.

“How’s that for manners?”

It was actually fucking funny watching him try to swallow everything stuffed in his mouth.

“It’s borderline painful watching you eat.”

Billy laughed as Steve flicked a piece of scrambled egg at him. It landed on his shoulder. Billy slurped it right off his shirt.

“See! Now, who's the one with no table manners?”

“Still you, Sugar. Still you.”

Breakfast was, like, actually fun.

Not that Billy was expecting it to be shitty, but he wasn’t expecting it to be as carefree, as easy, as it was. He and Steve just, kinda, clicked.

Steve was easy to talk to. He was easy to listen to, easy to laugh with, and even easier to look at.

He’s kinda, everything Billy has ever wanted in a person.

He slid his hand into Billy’s as they were leaving the diner, smiling shyly at Billy when he looked over at him.

And Billy stopped in his tracks, right there in broad daylight, tugging Steve by his hand closer to Billy’s body, sliding his hands up his arms, feeling over Steve’s shoulders, and down his back to settle on his hips. Steve wrapped both arms around Billy’s shoulders, leaning closer to him, almost pressing his whole body against Billy’s.

And it was easy. Kissing Steve was just as easy as talking to him, as laughing with him, as looking at him. It was simple and nice and made Billy feel something he really didn’t want to put too much thought into.

Something that was decidedly not easy.

They pulled away from one another, both their lips red and slick.

Billy opened the passenger door, and Steve folded himself into the seat with a ridiculous amount of grace.

And as Billy drove them aimlessly through the city, he tried not to think of the expiration date on this whole thing, on the dates listed on the back of Steve’s t-shirt.

They’ve got a little under a month together.

And Billy was determined to make that the best goddamn month of both of their natural lives.

[sofwrites]

Polin - 50? 💛💛💛

50: putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up

read this and more blurbs on ao3

“Do you know,” Colin began with a sly grin, “that Anthony has a property just a few miles from here? We could stop there instead. Tell your sister that one of our carriage wheels broke…”

Penelope’s head slowly turned to look at him, her lips pinched just slightly in an attempt to hide her amusement. “And it just so happened that it broke right by one of your brother’s homes?”

“We do always have remarkable timing.”

She squinted her eyes for a moment, as if really considering his proposition. They were on the way to a Featherington family meeting at Prudence’s home about an hour and a half outside the city. And although Penelope didn’t really want to attend any more than her husband did, she did feel rather guilty about the fact that they'd been absent the entire month prior.

Giving him an apologetic smile, Penelope shook her head. “We really should be there today. I sent them all my book last month and…” I’m worried about my mother’s reaction, is what she wanted to say. Colin didn’t need to hear it out loud to know that she’d been nervous about it for days. Taking in the tightness of his wife's lips, he gently pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand.

The reaction to Penelope’s book, The Wallflower, had been mostly positive. Oh, there’d been a few perturbed individuals who had seemed to pick themselves out of a few villains in the story (although Colin wholeheartedly claimed that anyone who did so was obviously projecting that onto themselves and had no standing to complain), but most of the ton had devoured it just as quickly as they used to devour the writings of her former alter ego.

However, despite the pleasant response, Penelope had been honest in her work. And that included quite a few pages devoted to how her mother’s choices for her wardrobe often made her feel as though she wanted nothing more than to blend into the background. She’d been reassured time and time again by her loved ones that she hadn’t been unkind, but Penelope truly didn’t want to hurt her mother. She was already aware of the stickiness in their relationship and wanted to keep things as amicable as possible. And with Portia spending more time with Prudence and her family, that meant taking the trip out to see her in person.

“I suppose you’re right,” Colin mumbled before his lips began traveling dangerously up her arm. Right as his mouth met the very base of her neck, he flashed her a grin. “You know, we do have another hour until we arrive…”

Although Penelope could feel her stomach flip in a painfully familiar way, she gave him a playful smirk. “And I suppose you’ll be snoring in the next thirty seconds?”

Colin cocked his head to the side in deliberation. “Actually, I’m not at all-”

Whatever word his mouth had been forming was replaced with a much… different sound in light of the rather precarious position of his wife’s hand. And very few comprehensible words were exchanged from thereafter.

Roughly two hours later, Penelope and Colin were sitting side-by-side atop a frilly canary-colored sofa, both silently imagining themselves anywhere else.

“And there I was,” Robert, Prudence’s quite spirited husband, paused dramatically, allowing the only relief their eardrums had been given in the previous ten minutes. “Two feet in the mud and about twelve too far from the deer!”

As he let out a roar of laughter, Colin gave an enthusiastic chuckle that impressively would have appeared sincere to anyone who didn’t know him well enough. He cast a sideways glance to Geoffrey, Felicity’s husband and the only brother-in-law in company that did not give him the desire to get trampled on by a horse. The gentleman locked eyes with him for a moment, wearing a rather pained smile on his face that quite plainly said, God, help us all.

“Pen,” Felicity interjected just as it looked as though Robert was readying himself for yet another hilarious anecdote. “I’ve heard your book sales have been quite good. A friend of mine actually asked if I could send her a copy because she hasn’t been able to find one anywhere.”

Colin beamed down at his wife, who smiled at her younger sister before sending a tentative glance towards their mother. “I’m sure she was just being kind. But I’ll make sure to send you a few more.”

After a moment of silence that was just long enough to be uncomfortable, Philippa said, “I’m still reading, but it’s very good so far. Nigel tried as well, but…” She let out a high-pitched piercing giggle as she looked at her husband with an expression that was so sweet and yet so empty-headed at the same time.

“Oh, you know me. Not much of a reader,” Nigel shrugged, his tone jovial rather than unkind.

Penelope gave them both a small, grateful smile for their efforts before casting another careful glance at her mother, who seemed to be avoiding her gaze. Colin could practically feel his wife building up her courage before she cleared her throat. “Erm, mother? What did you think of it?”

Everyone except for Philippa and Nigel (who were both far too blissfully unaware to notice) examined Portia, who turned to her third daughter with her best attempt at a pleasant smile. “I thought it was lovely.”

Penelope blinked a few times. “You did?”

“Of course, I did.”

“And what was your favorite part?” This question came from Colin, who was now focused on his mother-in-law with a quirked brow and an overly charming grin. Despite the expression on his face, Penelope felt his grip tighten around her waist.

Portia’s throat made a small lurch. “I couldn’t possibly choose. It was all very good.”

Without needing to see her, Colin could feel the disappointment mixed with relief radiate from Penelope. It was quite evident to anyone with half a brain that Portia hadn’t read the book. Perhaps hadn't even made an attempt to do so. And though that meant avoiding a potential rift, it also meant that she hadn’t taken the time to read and acknowledge her daughter’s achievement.

But as though Penelope could feel the heat rising in Colin, she squeezed his hand in warning. He glanced at her before letting out a quiet, resigned sigh. “Well, my favorite part of the story was the proposal. Although to be quite honest, some of my favorite details were left out.”

Felicity, who was quite aware of everything that had transpired on that day, leaned in with feigned interest. “Please do elaborate.”

“Colin,” Penelope whispered after sending her sister a swift glare. “They were there, I’m sure it’s no longer very interesting.”

He grinned at her, delighted by the way her cheeks were turning rosier by the second. “Nonsense, especially not when we did such a nice rendition earlier in the carr-”

There was a small squeak before a hand clamped itself firmly over Colin’s mouth, cutting the rest of his sentence off.

“I think I’m a bit hungry,” Penelope attempted to say casually, as if she wasn’t still holding her husband’s mouth shut. Their audience was staring at them with rather befuddled expressions. “Colin and I will go fetch something.”

Slowly, Colin pulled down her hand and flashed their family members an innocent smile. “Pregnancy, eh? Her appetite’s almost been as robust as mine.” He cast them a small wink as Penelope’s flush transitioned into a deep crimson. There were a few stifled laughs as Portia began to sputter.

“Come on,” Penelope nearly groaned, pulling her husband off the sofa and out the room.

“Do you even know where the kitchen is?” Prudence called after them.

Colin laughed, giving his wife’s warm cheek a peck. “Oh, we’ll find it!”

request a touching prompt

[par-forthecurse]

Par for the Curse - Issue 1

Where do we even start, lovelies?

First and foremost, the essays listing reasons why Draco Malfoy should be forgiven go straight into the fireplace, so please stop wasting your parchment.  Your owls will thank you.  They’re tired of carrying such giant loads of shite for such long distances.

Secondly?  We need to talk about the slut shaming.  When I ask you to send me gossip, I don’t want or need messages telling me that Pansy Parkinson is playing the former Slytherin boys. Also for fuck’s sake, please remember that we’re not actually IN school anymore, they’re formerly Slytherins, not current Slytherins.  If you’re going to say that Pansy went home with Marcus after the Quidditch exhibition, say Pansy Parkinson went home with the greatest Chaser the Falmouth Falcons have EVER seen, Marcus Flint!  Not a Slytherin.  Also… rubbing up on Goyle like a tease?  Have you met Pansy?  Last time I saw Pansy I think we got to second base with one another.  It’s not teasing, it’s called having fun and celebrating the fact that we can freely go out and not have to worry about being killed anymore.  If girls want to bump and grind a little, let them do it freely.  Also, to imply that she needs to fuck Draco Malfoy to get work at all?  Check yourself.  Seriously. If I had to put money on it, Malfoy probably offered the job to her, along with everything else he can afford now that he’s claimed his trust fund for the mere chance to get her in bed with him again.  

While we’re on that subject, implying Astoria Greengrass is also a player, also because she happens to be seen with the former Slytherin boys a lot?  Not cool.  We will say that we’re a little intrigued by some of the rumors we’re hearing about her love life though.  She’s been spotted on an actual date with Greg Goyle (who, we honestly didn’t know knew how to behave inside a restaurant with a dress code, but we can freely admit when we’re wrong) and was seen leaving the Quidditch exhibition with him, but we’ve heard more than a few rumors that there’s something scandalous going on with her and Draco Malfoy behind the scenes.  Like I said though, I have eyes and ears everywhere and they haven’t shown their faces together in the wizarding world, so I think it’s all bullshite. I will have to say though, Astoria, whoever gave you that Toussaint bracelet… exquisite taste!  Is that a hookup from your aunt?  Can you hook me up too?

Speaking of the Greengrass family, looks like Daphne’s decided to come down from her high horse in Rosier Tower and see how everyone she thinks is beneath her lives.  I wonder if that has to do with the rumors going around about a secret relationship with her and Marcus Flint.

Who… Marcus, we need to talk. I like to think we’re on a first name basis by now, especially considering I’ve named all of our future children.  Why on earth am I getting pictures owled to me of you having lunch with my sister of all people?  I mean… I love Padma more than ANYBODY in the world, but if I’m busy when you try and owl me at the magazine, you shouldn’t track down deepfake Parvati, you should wait for the real thing!  Also what’s this I hear about you starting fights at the pub?  I heard you and Goyle were fighting over Astoria or Pansy or someone… honestly I couldn’t even keep the details straight, but then again, the person who told me that ALSO told me that Padma left the bar with Goyle and we all know THAT didn’t happen. Hahahahhahaha.  As if.

Millicent Bulstrode made it back for pub night though, looking stunning if I do say so myself. Apparently Holyhead’s not treating her as well as she’d hoped, but sources say she’s been spotted spending quality time at a local haunt with the Harpies’ own Ginny Weasley.  The two were seen getting positively plastered after practice last week, and looked to be having a genuine heart to heart.  Wonder how Bulstrode’s going to feel about that once she finds out Weasley’s new workout buddy is her “on again, off again, will they, won’t they, tall, dark, and handsome” Blaise Zabini.  The Puddlemere Chaser was spotted at the gym with Weasley, and though the two didn’t look to be doing anything romantic, who knows what goes on in those steam rooms?  Not me.  

The youngest Weasley isn’t wasting any time though, and more than a few owls have come in with first hand witness reports that she and the Savior of the Wizarding World, Harry Potter himself, AKA the world’s WORST Yule Ball Date EVER (JK Harry love you xoxoxo) get this… had coffee together.  And smiled at each other.  

THIS IS NOT NEWS.

As somebody who has spent a significant amount of time with both Ginny and Harry, I can promise you that coffee and smiles do not automatically mean a rekindled relationship. Again, STOP. WASTING. PARCHMENT. If you see them making out, that’s news, but also that’s their business so at least be discrete about the fact that you’re watching them like a creep and then writing a national magazine to tell them what you saw.  

I digress.

In other Weasley news! Looks like the Weasley men have a fan club and it’s made up of one Demelza Robins!  Call her Demi though.  Someone spotted Charlie Weasley, Dragon Tamer extraordinaire, going into her parents’ CLOSED flower shop together.  This person apparently stood outside and watched the apartment lights come on and either cried about it, or masturbated in the shadows of the night as they imagined what was happening inside.  Either way, that age gap might be a little too much for dear Demi, as we’ve also gotten news that she’s been making moves on George Weasley as well.  

Honestly, we can respect somebody who works their way through siblings.  By that logic, I’ll be getting ready for my date with Marcus ASAP.

George Weasley though. My heart.  I don’t just say that because I want to hug him every time I see him and give him everything good in the world either, I say that because he’s just… he’s wonderful.  And he was on a date.  In muggle London. I don’t know WHO he was with, but it was a date with a girl and he was happy and that’s all I want for him in the entire world.

You know who ELSE went on a date?  Hermione Granger.  Yes indeed, the brightest witch of our age is BACK IN ACTION, taking Liverpool by storm with an incredibly handsome footballer, which is essentially the muggle equivalent to quidditch, but on the ground and less fun, but it doesn’t matter because I looked this man up and he is GORGEOUS!  Best of luck to one of my favorite Lionesses!

Lastly, multiple people have reported that Luna Lovegood and Draco Malfoy were seen hugging in Diagon Alley the other day.  My guess is he put her under the Imperius curse, I heard he was good at that one. Probably how he got the Wasps to sell the team to him too.  Luna’s far too smart to have done that willingly.  Ugh.  I’ll have to send Padma to do a welfare check.

That’s all for this week!

Remember, donations can still be made to the Lavender Brown Memorial Fund! Just twenty galleons a year makes sure young girls at Hogwarts don't go without the latest and greatest hair and beauty potions. Owl your donations to Witch Weekly HQ, earmarked "LAV"

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

Ch21: Her Hooves Set The Beat, My Heart Sang The Song

Summary: There’s a feel good factor at the Gallagher-Adler’s as Alex hits another milestone, but their happy little bubble his shattered with some bad news at the stables, and Fliss is forced to say a heart-breaking goodbye…

Warnings: Bad language, 18+, animal death.

Pairing: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: So, for those of you who don’t know, Heidi was actually real. She was my beloved horse of a lifetime who I lost in July 2018 to complications associated with old age. At 28 I she had a good life, and for the 20 years I had her she gave me everything. Writing this brought back a lot of memories and was quite therapeutic in a way, but if anyone wants to skip over it for fear of being triggered, I won’t be offended.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 20

 April 2020

“Go away!” Mary laughed, pushing Fliss’ arm as she tried to peek over at what she was writing on the piece of card upon which she’d been designing the Wedding Invitations.  “You can see when I’m done!”

Fliss chuckled and backed away, hands raised, palms up.

“Okay, okay.” She walked backwards a few steps before she turned and her eyes fell on Alex who was in his pack and play loudly banging some coloured blocks together. He looked up at her and gave a huge smile before he shuffled a little to the edge of his pen and reached up, curling his hands onto the sides. As Fliss watched, he tried to pull himself up into a standing position but only got so far before he landed on his butt, and waved his arms and legs shouting something in, what Frank called Bean-Babble. Fliss grinned and moved to pick him up.

“Not quite mastered that yet have you, baby?” She smiled, kissing his cheek.

Alex let out another loud squeal of contentment as he perched on her hip and she made her way over to the kitchen area. There, she settled him in his high chair and headed into the fridge to grab him an apple. Since he had started eating solids it had fast become apparent that he was particularly partial to the fruit, something Frank directly attributed to the fact that Fliss had eaten so many of them when she was pregnant thanks to her craving. Fliss carefully chopped the fruit into large pieces before she placed them down on the tray of his chair, kissing his soft hair again as Alex grabbed a slice in his hand and promptly jabbed it in his mouth, making appreciative noises.

Happy that he was content, Fliss then turned her attention to their dinner. She soon had the base of the cream and garlic sauce for the seafood linguini simmering nicely in the pan so she then turned her attention to shelling and de-veining the fresh, king prawns Frank had brought home the night before, along with chopping up the squid and cleaning the mussels before she turned her head and looked over to the table across the large family room.

“Mary, do you want mussels in yours?”

 “No, they taste like snot.” Came the simple response.

“You know what snot tastes like?” Fliss pulled a face. “Gross.”

Mary didn’t reply, her hand was busy scribbling on the paper. Fliss shrugged and placed some of the sauce into a separate pan before she dropped some of the seafood through to cook, before pulling a cod and mash potato puree out for Alex for his dinner. Whilst that was in the microwave, she tossed Mary’s sauce through some of the pasta, before sprinkling over a little bit of parmesan and setting it down on the breakfast bar.

“Mary, dinner.”

Mary hopped down from the table and made her way over to the counter. With a thanks to Fliss she tucked in as Fliss smiled and sat next to her, feeding Alex.

“What time is Dad home?” Mary asked.

“I’m actually expecting him any time now.” Fliss glanced at the clock. “He has no meetings tonight so he shouldn’t be too long. Did you want him for something? I can call him.”

“No, I was just curious.” Mary swallowed her mouthful of food. “Do you mind if I don’t ride tonight?”

 “No, of course not.” Fliss gave Alex another spoonful of his dinner before she turned to Mary. “Is everything ok, Stack? It’s not like you to pass up an opportunity to ride.”

“Well, I thought I could spend some time with Frank.” She shrugged. “I haven’t seen him properly this week.”

“I’m sure he’d appreciate that.” Fliss smiled, giving Alex more food.

 “Just figured if you’re at the stables and Alex is in bed, it’ll just be the two of us. No offense.”

“None taken.” Fliss chuckled, as Mary grinned and continued to eat. And she meant it. Over the past two weeks or so, Frank and Alan’s son had decided to expand a little and as such had been meeting with potential new suppliers, often working until later in the night, something Fliss knew was hard on him because it meant his time with the kids had really been limited to a quick hour over breakfast, the morning school and crèche drop offs and weekends. Fliss had assured him that the kids were fine, she was fine, and reminded him that he was doing this for the family, for their future but it didn’t stop him feeling guilty.

It was kind of ironic, when she thought about it. As she’d been expecting to feel the same guilt after going back to work full time but as she was self-employed, she’d been able to work her time-table quite well around the kids. She’d taken on another stable hand to help with the day to day chores leaving her free to teach more freelance in the area and school horses when they came to her for training. Joanne was now taking the group lessons completely, having passed her final teaching exams earlier that year, and Alex had settled really well into his day care, going two days a week to the centre round the corner from Mary’s school which had come recommended by Bonnie’s sister. The other two days a week Verity (and nine times outta ten Bill) came look after him or take him out, meaning on those days Fliss worked later- scheduling in evening lessons for clients as Verity would sort the kids dinner before Frank got home, and then on Friday, Fliss did her paperwork so Alex stayed with her . It was busy, and often required military planning as to who was picking which child up and when, but they worked it well, and Fliss had been very surprised at how easily they had picked it all up.

They continued chatting, and just as Mary had polished off her desert, Thor gave a little woof and padded to the back door as it opened and they heard Frank giving his usual jokey greeting.

“The boss is home.”

“Yeah I know, she made dinner.” Mary shot back and Fliss laughed, giving her a hi-five.

Frank walked into the main room and smiled at them both, giving Fliss a quick kiss before he ruffled Mary’s hair as she shoved him away, rolling her eyes, jumping off the stool to escape him.

“Good day?” He asked, and Fliss nodded.

“Yeah, not bad. You?”

“Busy, but productive. We got the final Price Lists negotiated so…” he trailed off, nodding to Alex who was smiling at him. “Looks like he enjoyed dinner.”

“So did Mary.” Fliss mused, nodding to the empty place on the side. “She ate a full dish of linguini and a massive piece of Mum’s chocolate cake. Think she’s going through another growth spurt.”

“Great, more clothes to buy.”

Fliss chuckled as she fed Alex the last of his peach and apple puree before she reached for a baby wipe and scrubbed his face and hands clean, much to the baby’s annoyance. She stood up to clear away his dish, leaving the spoon in Alex’s hand as he was busy banging it against the tray of his chair. Frank sat down on the stool she’d vacated, kissing Alex’s head. .

“Hey, Pal. Meet any hot girls today at crèche?” He asked. Alex shrieked in response, banging the spoon harder and Frank nodded. “Oh really? Well, you play it cool and she’ll be putty in your hands.”

“Like I was in yours?” Fliss asked, turning to face him and Frank grinned as he settled on the stool.

“Think we both know it was the other way round.”

“Don’t you forget it.” She smirked a little.

“Like I’d have a chance.” Frank winked at her and Fliss smiled.

“Do you want your dinner now or-“

“Oh, can I show you the invitation first?” Mary suddenly piped up from across the room and Fliss nodded.

“Sure.”

She jumped off the table at the chair and approached them, placing the card on the breakfast bar in front of Frank. Fliss stood behind Frank, her hands sliding round his shoulders as she kissed his cheek, both of them glancing down at the design Mary had come up with. 

The front was a simple square piece of card. Across the top Mary had cut letters out of a magazine to spell out the words “WE’RE GETTING MARRIED” and underneath it she’d stuck a copy of a photo of the four of them which had clearly been taken at Bill and Verity’s a few weeks ago. Mary and Alex were both looking at the camera, whereas Frank and Fliss were both laughing as they looked at each other as Frank held Alex, the baby’s back to his chest, supporting under his butt with one arm, the other held across his front.

“Where did you get that?” Frank asked, grinning as he looked at it.

“Poppa Bill.” Mary looked at him. “He said it was like the five thousandth attempt at trying to get us all to look at the camera.”

“That was Frank’s fault.” Fliss laughed, “He kept nipping my ass.”

Frank shrugged, before Fliss spotted one of his arms snaking backwards, blatantly intending on doing the same and she slapped his hand, making him give a dirty chuckle as he pulled it away.

“Turn it over!” Mary urged. Frank obliged and they both smiled instantly at the back. It was written in Mary’s untidy writing, in bright multi-coloured felt tip.

“Oh Mary, this is just what I wanted!” Fliss grinned. “For it to look bright and unique.”

“You haven’t read it yet.” She looked up at Fliss rolling her eyes, but before she could comment Frank started to laugh as he had and his chuckles continued as Fliss read the words out-loud.

“Mary and Alex Adler would like to invite you to their Mom and Dad’s wedding.” Fliss took a deep breath at the word, looking at Mary who gave her a small smile. Whilst Mary had referred to Fliss when talking to other people as her mom, she’d never actually used the word directly to Fliss yet. But, now wasn’t the time to dig into that. Fliss cleared her throat and read on “Frank and Fliss met at the stables. Frank was smitten, Fliss was too. But they were too dumb to admit it straight away. And then Frank took her sailing (not driving) on a speedboat. They kissed, made a baby and now it’s time for a party. (And a wedding too).”

Fliss burst out laughing, as Frank tried to gain enough control to read the final bit at the bottom, which was situated underneath the details of time and venues, before it went on to state their address.

“RSVP to Mary (not Alex, because he can’t read!)” He managed to wheeze out, wiping at his eyes. “Oh, Stack, you’re killing me.”

“You like it?” She grinned and Frank nodded.

“Mary.” Fliss’ laughter died down as she took a deep breath. “It’s absolutely perfect!”

Once they had finished laughing at Mary’s Invitation Prototype, Fliss and Frank ate dinner together, Mary chatting away to the pair of them as she sat at the end of the breakfast bar, sipping a milkshake, informing them both about her day, before Frank took Alex to get him bathed and changed into his pyjamas.

“This bath is supposed to be for you.” Frank grumbled as Alex enthusiastically splashed at the water with his little hands, those little babbling noises emitting from his mouth as he glanced up at Frank with his big blue eyes, making another sound that could almost have been interpreted as a question. Which, maybe it was. “You heard me.” Frank looked at him. Alex studied his dad for a second before continuing with his splashing, laughing loudly as he tossed a plastic boat to the end of the tub before he stretched towards it, then realising he couldn’t reach the toy, promptly burst into tears.

“Seriously, Pal?” Frank rolled his eyes, stretching his right hand over to retrieve the precious item. As soon as he passed it back, the over the top tears stopped and Frank raised an eyebrow. “If you wanted it so badly why did you throw it away in the first place?”

Alex responded with another noise, this one a gurgle and Frank nodded.

“Okay, understood.”

At that Alex looked at him, cocking his head to one side, making another puzzled noise and tossed the boat this time over the side of the bath, a grin spreading across his face as he studied his dad.  Frank arched an eyebrow. “You know, just because I love you doesn’t mean I sign up for this whole throw and fetch shit you got going on.” He picked up the toy and tossed it back into the water. “That’s Thor’s job.”

“You know, if his first word comes out a swear, you’re in deep trouble.” Fliss arched an eyebrow as Frank turned his head over his shoulder to look at her as she stood in the bathroom doorway. At the sight of his Mumma, Alex gave a huge grin and let out another gabble of noises.

“There are worst things it could be.” Frank shrugged, looking back at him.

“Like what?”

“Trump.” Frank deadpanned and Fliss let out a chuckle as once more the plastic boat came out of the tub onto the floor.

“Right, I think play-time is done pal.” Frank looked at Alex, who glanced up at him as he made sure to keep one hand behind his son’s back whilst reaching for his little hooded towel, which was patterned with tiny little ducks. “Come on.” No sooner had he lifted Alex out of the tub, the eight month old started to protest, dramatically, screams once more hitting Frank’s ears. “Oh, hush…” Frank chuckled as he lay him down on the towel before wrapping him in it and picking him up, rising to a stand and gently jiggling the now hysterical baby up and down.

“Anyone would think we’re tryin’a kill him, not simply dry him off after he’s spent fifteen minutes in the bath.” Frank rolled his eyes, an amused expression on his face at Alex’s dramatics.

“Well, he’s a right little water baby, aint you Bean?” Fliss leaned over to kiss Alex’s head as his cries suddenly died down as he had become instantly distracted with the buttons on Frank’s shirt. He made a little “oooh” of approval, his tiny fingers reaching to the ones near the collar. “Ha, look at that, he’s easily distracted, just like his daddy.”

“Yeah, well, I won’t deny, I quite like undoing your buttons.” Frank teased, dropping a kiss to her mouth. “Shall I dress him or do you wanna do it?”

Fliss took a deep breath, of course she wanted to dress him, she wanted to do everything for her baby, but she also knew that Frank had been out of the house early every morning and this was the first evening since Monday he’d made it home before bath time. With a smile she shook her head. “It's okay, you can do it. I’ll clean up in here.”

“Leave it, I’ll do it later.”

“It won’t take me five minutes. Then once I’m done and he’s settled, I’ll head over to the yard so I can ride and finish off. I won’t be too long, just an hour or so.”

“Then we got some us time?” Frank asked, almost pleaded and she smiled.

“Then we got some us time.”

“Perfect.” Frank gave her a soft smile before he kissed her again and carried Alex into the nursery. Before long he’d managed to wrestle a very wriggly baby into a clean diaper, a fresh romper suit and headed downstairs. Mary was now sat on the couch, her eyes glued to something on the TV as Fliss was warming Alex’s bottle up.

“You going with Fliss, Stack?”

No answer. With a raised brow he turned to look at Fliss who was biting her lip, trying not to laugh as he switched his attention back to Mary.

“Earth to Mary.”

With a groan she looked at him. “What?”

“Less of the attitude.” Frank looked at her. “I asked if you were going to ride?”

“Oh, erm…” She hesitated and Fliss chuckled.

“She wants to stay here and spend some time with you.” She smiled as Frank looked at her, then to Mary.

“Wow, me over Monty, I’m flattered.” He smirked. Mary rolled her eyes.

“Don’t get used to it, it’s only because I’ve not seen you properly this week to hang out.”

Frank snorted before he sighed. “I know, I’m sorry. It won’t be forever.”

“It’s fine.” Mary shrugged, her eyes back on the TV. “Not like I’m neglected, is it?”

“Good to know you feel that way.” Frank nodded seriously, before he caught Fliss’ eye and she gave him a wink.

He placed Alex down on the play mat in front of the TV and within seconds the baby had flipped himself over and pushed up onto his hands, rocking back a little onto his knees, emitting more excited noises.

“Mary, I’m just gonna grab a drink.” Frank looked at the Alex, before he turned to Mary. “Keep your eye on your brother will you?”

“Sure.” She shrugged, her attention now completely on the baby as she dropped onto the floor and shuffled over to him, talking to him as she did so.

Frank watched for a moment, giving a silent groan as Alex flopped gently down face first onto the mat.

“Oopsie!”  Mary grinned, and Frank braced himself for the dramatic screams, but they never came as this time, Alex managed to right himself and roll back over onto his back, giving Mary an excited grin and a loud shriek as Mary waggled one of the toys from the baby gym over the top of him.

Satisfied they were okay, Frank headed into the kitchen where Fliss was busy finishing off the lunches for the next morning, dropping a kiss to her cheek as he reached into the fridge, grabbing a beer.

 “You wanna do bedtime as you’ve not had chance this week?” Fliss asked, nodding to Alex’s bottle where it stood in the jug of boiling water.

“He’s my son, course I wanna.” Frank frowned as he looked at her, flipping the top off his beer. “You know, it’s not like I’ve been working late on purpose, Fliss.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Fliss narrowed her eyes at him as he took a long pull of his drink. “And you know it. So less of the shitty tone, thank you!”

“Sorry, Honey.” Frank sighed, dropping a kiss to her lips. “Just, well, I didn’t think Mary would have bothered as much as she had.”

“She’s fine.” Fliss shook her head. “And she isn’t bothered as such, she just wants to get you to herself for a little while. I mean, let’s face it, how often does she get chance to do that now?”

“True.” Frank nodded. “Maybe I should take her out on Saturday somewhere, just the two of us. Would you mind?”

“No, course not.” She shook her head. “I can take Alex down to the beach with Bonnie. You can always join us later on.”

“Yeah.” Frank nodded. “Sounds good.”

“And tonight, why don’t you spend a bit of time in the pool before she showers?” Fliss suggested, as she slid her hands up round his neck. “Then maybe when I get back, me and you could-“

But whatever filthy water-based shenanigans she was about to suggest, Frank never found out, as at that moment Mary let out a yell.

“Oh my God! Alex is crawling, quick!”

In a flash the parents rushed over to where Mary was sat at one side of the play-mat, waving Alex’s huge stuffed elephant at him, as he unsteadily made his way over to her, one hand and knee moving at a time.

“Frank, quick!” Fliss nudged him as she dropped to her knees behind Alex, her hands settling either side of his little body, getting ready to catch him if she needed to.  

“I got it…” Frank muttered, as he crouched next to Mary, his phone out. “Alex, buddy, you reckon you can make it all this way to Daddy, huh?”

Another few little movements later, Fliss’ sharp eyes saw the baby’s arms beginning to wobble and, just as they gave way she grabbed him and pulled him backwards, swinging him up and pressing her to his chest, smothering his face in kisses.

“My clever little man!” She beamed as Alex laughed, grabbing at her hair as she kissed him. “Oh my baby, you’re getting so big!”

Alex clearly decided that his crawling efforts were done for the day as he made no attempt try again as Fliss held him in position on the mat. With a shrug, she gently placed him on his back where he began to grab once more at the toys hanging over him.

“Obviously had enough excitement for one night.” Frank chuckled as he reached over and tickled the baby’s belly, drawing a gaggle of laughter from him.

“I’m so glad we all got to see it.” Fliss beamed round at them both and Mary nodded enthusiastically. “Right…” She rose to her feet. “I’m going to go ride and finish off. I’ll be back in an hour, hour and a half.”

Once she was gone, Frank turned to Mary. “Fancy playing in the pool for a bit before bed?”

“Errr, yeah!”

“Okay, well give me half an hour or so to get him down and then we’ll head out. I wanna see if you can master a back flip this time instead of a front one.”

***** Alex went down, as usual, with minimum fuss and once Frank was happy he was settled he changed into his swim shorts and headed downstairs. Grabbing the baby monitor screen from the side in the kitchen, he and Mary headed out to the pool, Mary wasting no time in cannon-balling straight in. Not one to shy down from a challenge, when Mary told him to beat her splash, he did just that. The two of them enjoyed a fun filled forty minutes or so, racing one another (Frank let Mary win a few, but not all) play fighting, diving and generally larking around as the sun dipped behind the eye-line of the fence and the lights in the pool kicked in, reflecting against the bright blue tiles which lined it.

Frank climbed out of the pool to check the time on his phone, and realising it was now almost eight, he told Mary it was time to get out. She protested, but he shot her a no-nonsense stare and with a loud groan about how unfair life was, she climbed out and Frank wrapped her in a towel before giving her a drink of water and then packing her off upstairs for a shower, promising her she could read in bed before lights off at nine.

He showered himself, pulling on a pair of sweats and a well-worn light blue T-Shirt, and by the time he had finished and headed across the landing to tuck Mary in, she was already out for the count. With a smile, he placed her book down on her night stand, gently kissed her head and then flicked off the lamp before he moved to the next room to check on Alex. He was also fast asleep.

He headed back downstairs, grabbed another beer and settled in front of the TV, giving a snort as he glanced at the time. It was now ten past nine. So much for Fliss being just an hour. No doubt she’d ended up chatting to one of the clients about something, as usual, which had delayed her locking up. Firing her a good humoured, sarcastic text about how he should grow a mane, tail and two extra legs so he could get a look in, he tossed the phone down onto the coffee table, frowning as it instantly began to light up. It was Fliss.

 “Hey, Honey, I was only joking, take as-“

“Frank, there’s something wrong with Heidi.” She cut him off, her voice cracking. “She’s got colic and it’s bad. I called the Vet and he’s on his way but she won’t get up. I can’t get her on her feet to try and walk her round she’s just…”

Frank took a deep breath, his stomach falling as he digested her words. He wasn’t clued up on a lot of horse lingo or issues, but he knew colic was fatal to some horses, depending on the severity. And even without the fact that Fliss was clearly concerned, he knew that with Heidi being as old as she was this wasn’t good.

“How long is the Vet going to be?” he asked.

“They said about half an hour, he’s on his way but as it’s night it’s an emergency call so he’s coming from home.” She took a deep breath. “Frank, I’m gonna lose her.”

“Look, you don’t know that for sure.” He placated her gently as he stood up from the sofa. “Listen, let me grab the kids and we’ll come over.”

“Frank, they’re sleeping.” She began to protest, “And Mary will be so upset to see Heidi like this, and if the vet has to put her to sleep then…”

“Then she’ll be mad as hell she didn’t get to say goodbye.” Frank reasoned as he made his way into the hallway. “I don’t want you over there on your own, sweetheart. Not if…”

There was a pause. “I don’t want to do it on my own either.” She whispered and he took a deep breath as he headed up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.

“And you don’t hafta.” He replied. “Give me five minutes. Do you need anything else?”

“No, I got everything here.”

“Okay.” He nodded, pausing outside Mary’s bedroom. “We’ll be with you in five.”

She sniffed. “Thank you.”

Frank stuck his phone in the pocket of his sweats before he opened Mary’s door and headed over to her bed. Standing on the bottom rung of the ladder of the cabin he gently leaned over. She was led, facing away from him, face snuggled into her pillow as Fred lay by her side. He raised his head questioningly at Frank as he softly brushed Mary’s hair off her cheek, pressing a kiss to her face.

“Stack, hey…come on, wake up.” Mary gave a groan as she pulled her covers up further, her eyes still closed. Frank spoke a little louder, his hand softly shaking her shoulder. “Mary, sweetheart, I need you to wake up, come on.”

She stirred a little, before she rolled onto her back, blinking sleepily at him before she frowned.

“Frank, it’s still dark!” She glared at him and he bit back the smirk at the fact she’d reverted to Frank, not Dad. Something she always did when she felt he was being a jerk.

“I know you haven’t been asleep long, but Fliss is at the yard and we need to go be with her. Heidi isn’t well, the vet is on his way.”

At that she sat up, all tiredness evaporating from her system. “What’s wrong with her?”

“It’s colic, Sweetie.” Frank answered gently. “But Fliss is on her own, so I need you to get dressed whilst I grab Alex, okay?”

“Okay.” She nodded, and Frank smiled softly before he turned and headed over to the nursery which was quiet bar the soft sounds of Alex’s little baby snores. In the stream of light that illuminated the room from the landing, he could see his son sleeping, halfway down the crib, head tilted to the side, the pair of them meticulous in the way they set him down at night. He crossed the room and gently picked Alex up out of the crib, the baby giving a little sigh as he did so but other-wise remaining asleep. He grabbed a little fleece blanket and as he made his way back out into the hallway, Mary appeared in her jeans and a red t-shirt.  

“Why don’t you bring your laptop or something, just in case we’re there for a while and you get bored?” Frank asked. “You can sit in the office with Alex.”

“It’s downstairs.” She answered. “I’ll go grab it.”

They headed down stairs and Frank settled Alex in his stroller which was by the kitchen door as Mary grabbed her stuff. Frank slipped his feet into his sneakers as Mary stuffed on her boots and he wandered into the laundry room and found a warm top for them each.

“Frank it’s like almost summer outside.” Mary looked at him, “It’s hot!”

“I’m well aware of the climate, thanks.” He looked at her, stashing the hooded tops and cardigan on the underneath space of the stroller, before he made sure that Alex’s little blanket was set around his legs. “But it might get a little breezy if we’re there later.”

Truth be told he had no idea why he was taking them, other than the fact it felt like something he should do even though it was still in the low 70s at night. He was a little lost, this was something he’d never dealt with before, and there was a sick feeling in his stomach that it wasn’t going to end well. But, there was no point worrying about it until they knew what they were dealing with. He had to be strong, be calm. Taking a deep breath he looked at Mary and nodded. “Get the door, Stack.”

By the time they had reached the Yard, Fliss had managed to coax Heidi to her feet. As Frank and Mary walked round the side of the barn Fliss was heading to the paddock, Heidi trudging behind her.

“Hey.” Frank looked at her, and she gave him a tight smile, not stopping.

“I’m sorry, but if I stop she’ll…” She began to explain but Frank waved her away.

“Do what you gotta do.” He watched as she cast a look over her shoulder. “I’ll settle these two in the office and then I’ll be out.”

After doing just that, instructing Mary to keep an eye on Alex and promising her he would come get her once they knew what was going on, he wandered back to the paddock and without a word simply took Fliss' hand in his as she continued walking Heidi. Frank could hear the horse was making grunting noises and every so often tried to stop and kick at her stomach, but Fliss kept walking, her face set. She didn’t say much, making a little small talk, but Frank simply stayed by her side as every so often they changed direction.

“Where the hell is this vet?” Fliss gave an exasperated sigh and looked around, almost as if she expected to see him.

“It’s not been that long yet, Sweetheart.” Frank soothed her.

“Well it feels like forever.”

Frank kissed her head as they continued walking and about five minutes later a dark blue Hyundai pulled up the drive and Fliss let out a sigh of relief as she saw it was Scott, their usual vet and not some random on-call one. She led Heidi onto the main area of the yard, the horse rapidly becoming even more agitated. Fliss gently ran her hand down her neck, as she turned to Scott and gave him a quick low down and he nodded, patting Heidi.

“Okay old girl, let’s see what’s going on…” Scott hooked the stethoscope into his ears and moved to listen to her belly, taking a deep breath as he looked at Fliss. “Yeah, there’s absolutely no gut noise at all. It’s definitely colic, but you know that already…” he unhooked the ear pieces, leaving the item hanging around his neck before he moved to her head and examined her nose to get a look at the mucas membrane colour, then did a quick check on her gums which Frank noticed were pale instead of the usual pink.

“She’s in shock.” Fliss sniffed a little, noticing the change in colour and Scott wrinkled his nose.

“Not uncommon if she’s in a bit of pain.” He stood back. “Okay, I’m going to give her an anti-spasmodic and some pain relief which should help, and a mild sedative so I can do an internal examination.”

 “Yeah, whatever you need to do.” Fliss nodded as Scott turned to head back to his car to prep what he needed.

“Internal examination?” Frank looked at Fliss, “Like, is he…” He mimed fisting something and despite herself, Fliss let out a snort of laughter.

“That’s exactly what he’s gonna do.” She shook her head as she gently stroked Heidi’s face, the mare giving another grunt and huff as she butted Fliss out of the way a little. “Still a sassbag, eh girl?”

“Like her mom.” Frank looked at Fliss and she shrugged, turning over her shoulder as the vet approached, two large syringes in his hand.

“Look, can you call my mum and dad?” Fliss looked at Frank. “I don’t think…well, Dad especially is going to want to be here if…”

“Sure.” Frank nodded and turned away, obligingly.

He wandered back into the office, Bill who answered the phone instantly asked him what was going on and when he explained he simply stated they would be there as soon as they could be and hung up.

“Is she going to be okay?” Mary asked, as Frank checked on Alex where he was still sleeping in his stroller.

“I honestly don’t know Stack, but as soon as I do I’ll tell you okay?”

“Okay.”

“You’re doing a good job in here, watching him.”

“Don’t patronise me, Dad.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s asleep, and I’m reading. Not like it’s hard.”

Frank blinked, before he gave a little scoff and turned to head back onto the yard.

The Vet was just finishing giving Heidi the first jab and he gently rubbed the horse’s neck and then nodded to Fliss.

“Okay so that’s the pain relief and anti-spasmodic administered. Take her back in the paddock and give her another couple of minutes’ walk round whilst it kicks in.”

Fliss nodded and led the horse away, waving off Frank’s offer to come with her, Thor trotting behind.

“What’s the chances, Scott?” Frank turned to the man and he pulled a face.

“It’s hard to say.” He sighed. “If she was younger I’d be optimistic but with horses that age, well everything like this can be a risk. If this doesn’t work then I’ll know more after I’ve done an internal.”

To their despair it didn’t work, and if anything after another minute of walking around Heidi had gotten even worse and her bright, chestnut coat was now damp with sweat, her chest area and parts of her chest covered in a thin sheen of white foam.

“Scott, she’s in agony.” Fliss sniffed as Frank curled an arm round her.

“The sedative will help more with the pain.” Scott assured Fliss, pulling out the second needle which he administered into the horses neck. “Atta girl. We’ll give that a minute to work.”

As Scott snapped on a pair of rubber gloves, Frank and Fliss both turned to look as they heard another car heading up the gravel driveway onto the yard. Verity and Bill appeared shortly after, exchanging a look before Bill headed straight to Heidi, giving her a soft stroke on the nose before Verity did the same.

“You okay, Titch?” Bill asked, dropping a kiss to her head and she swallowed.

“Not really.” Her eyes flicked to Scott as he moved behind Heidi whose head was now slumped down, resting on Fliss’ shoulder as the sedative had kicked in. No one spoke for a moment, before they all heard a heavy sigh from Scott as he pulled his arm back and shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Fliss.” He sighed, and immediately her face crumpled and she took a deep breath.

“Don’t say it, please.” She begged, her chest tightening painfully as her voice cracked.

“Her gut’s twisted. The only option is surgery, but given her age and the stress that would put on her heart…”

He trailed off as Fliss shook her head, wiping her nose on the back of her sleeve. “I’m not putting her through that.” She whispered, “It’s not fair. She’s too old.”

“In that case then, well, you know what I’m gonna say.” Scott dropped his head as Frank softly placed his hands between Fliss shoulder blades as she nodded and took a deep breath “I really am so sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault.” Fliss shook her head, sniffing loudly. “I don’t want her in pain longer than she needs to be. Can we…can we get on with it, please?”

The Vet nodded. “I won’t be able to arrange for her body to be collected until the morning.” He looked at Fliss who took a shuddering breath, more tears rolling down her face. “So errr, where do you want to….”

“Why don’t you use the barn at the back?” Bill cut in gently. “I can move the tractor out for the night. There’s enough room for her to go down peacefully and she can stay in there until someone can collect her.”

“Yeah, it’s clean in there and a soft landing for when…” Fliss took a deep breath before she began to cry as she pressed her face into her beloved horse’s neck, her shoulders shaking as Frank gently rubbed at her back.

“The kids are in the office.” He turned to Bill and Verity, “Mary’s gonna…”

“We’ll sort it.” Verity assured him. “I’ll take Alex back to the house.” She turned to Fliss and gave her arm a gently squeeze before she gently scratched at Heidi’s wither, her head bowing as she walked away.

The next five minutes passed in a blur for Fliss, and somehow she found herself in the barn at the back, as she led Heidi in, the mare following her faithfully.

“Do you want another couple of minutes?” Scott asked kindly.

“Just one, for us all to say goodbye.” Fliss nodded, as she stroked down Heidi’s nose, the tears pouring down her face. She turned to Mary who was stood with Frank, her eyes wet and Frank picked her up, carrying her over as the family crowded round.

“Goodbye, Heidi.” Mary sniffed, pressing a kiss to her nose as Frank gently gave the horse a scratch on the neck. “Frank says we all end up in the same place eventually, so we’ll see you again.”

At that Fliss let out a loud sob and clamped her hand over her face as she broke down. Bill wiped at his eyes as he dropped his arm round his daughter.

“Do you remember when we went to see her before we bought her?” He asked and Fliss let out a choked laugh. “She was in that field, and she came straight over, but so did that big black horse…”

“And she kicked it.” Fliss laughed. “Then she bit Steve. That’s why I picked her.”

At that Frank let out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, he held a grudge about that, still does.” Bill smiled softly. “God, you had some moments with her. Falls, disagreements, battles of wills, but you got there in the end.”

“She’s been amazing.” Fliss smiled, pressing her nose to Heidi’s. “Turned herself inside out to please me. The best horse I could ever have had.”

Bill smiled, before he reached up and stroked Heidi’s face. “Night, old girl.”

At that he stepped back a little, the three of them plus the vet giving Fliss a moment alone with her old faithful.

“Dad’s right.” She smiled, her hand stoking Heidi’s nose, “You were an asshole for the first four months but, I knew you’d be special, I just had to get your trust. You gave me everything, baby girl, and I’ll never forget you. I’m gonna miss you so much. Your stupid temper tantrums if I don’t pay you enough attention, the fact you rule the pastures…” the tears poured freely down Fliss’ face as she took a shuddering breath, pressing her head to Heidi’s, taking a deep breath. “Sleep well.”

At that she turned to Scott and nodded, and he stepped forward.

“Okay, you’ve seen this before, right?”

“Yeah.” Fliss nodded, “But Mary hasn’t so…”

“Right, so, Mary, I’m gonna give her the first shot and that’s gonna knock her out pretty much, she’s likely to rock back and sit down like a dog before she flops sideways so, be prepared okay.”

“Kay…” Mary spoke in a quiet voice from where she stood in front of Frank. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders and bent down.

“You sure you wanna watch this?”

Mary nodded. “Yeah. Heidi doesn’t know what’s going on. She should have her family here.”

Frank smiled, pressed a kiss to the top of her head and stood up, his hands remaining where they were as Bill gently strode forward and grabbed Thor’s collar, removing him from the barn and out of the way.

Within seconds of Scott administering the first injection, Heidi did just as Scott said. Fliss gently pushed back with the lead rope, guiding Heidi back and the horse fell onto her haunches before flopping sideways, her head landing heavily on the straw bales that Bill had positioned to cushion her blow.

With a loud sob Fliss dropped to her knees and cradled the horse’s head in her lap as Scott then bent over to give her the last injection.

“So now she’s just basically gonna fall asleep and never wake up.” He looked at Mary who nodded, giving a loud sniff as she reached up to grab Franks hand.

“You okay?” He asked and she nodded, wiping at her face with her other hand. Bill moved, dropping a large hand to the back of the small girl’s head as Fliss gently stroked Heidi’s face as the animal’s eyes closed.

With a final, laboured breath, the animal’s chest grew still and Scott bent over.

“She’s gone.” He looked at Fliss, who gave another loud sob, bending over to press her face into the side of Heidi’s cheek.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t fix you.” She cried, her voice broken. “I’m so sorry.”

Frank was surprised to find his own eyes misting up, and as Mary turned to him, pressing her face into his T’shirt just above the waistband of his sweats, he glanced up at Bill who had tears trickling down his cheeks. He nodded to Frank who gently looked down at Mary, who stepped back and moved towards Bill as he opened his arms, allowing Frank to move into the barn.

“Hey, Lissy…come here.” He dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms round his girl who turned and pressed into him, her body wracked as she almost screamed out her sobs.

*****

It was pushing midnight before they made their way back to the house. Fliss had broken down once more as Frank and Bill had pulled the huge barn doors shut where Heidi’s body lay, covered by a tarp, ready for collection in the morning. The Vet had been nothing short of fantastic, as sympathetic and understanding as he could and for that Frank had thanked him profoundly as he’d been packing his kit up.  Without a word said between any of them, they walked down the little pathway and through the gate that connected into the gardens of the house and walked slowly across the gravel driveway. Fliss was walking a little ahead of them, every so often Frank would notice her hand falling to Thor’s head, almost as if she was checking her faithful dog was still with them as well.

She opened the back door which led into the mudroom and walked in, kicking off her boots and then headed into the family room where Verity was sat watching TV. She stood up immediately, took one look at Fliss and then she held her arms out.

“Mum…” Fliss choked and Verity swallowed, her own face creasing into sadness as Fliss stepped into the comfort of her mum’s arms, sniffing slightly.

“Oh, Sweetheart.” Verity pressed a kiss to her daughters head. “I know this is no consolation but she had the best life ever with you, she was so loved and looked after.”

Tearing his eyes away from Fliss, who continued to sniff softly as her mum held her, Frank gently turned to Mary who had tugged on his sleeve.

“You okay?” He asked, his hand gently cupping under her cheek and she shook her head.

“I’m just sad.”

“I know.” He agreed. “You will be for a while, and there’s nothing anyone can say or do that’s gonna make it better, but if you wanna talk about it…”

“No, I think I just wanna go to bed.” She shrugged slightly. “And give Fred a hug.”

“Alright.” He nodded. “You go up, I’ll come tuck you in, in a second.”

She nodded and then walked towards Fliss, hesitating a little, before she continued and gently reached up to lay her hand on Fliss’s elbow. Fliss broke away from her mum and turned to look at Mary, wiping her eyes. Mary blinked and Fliss gave her a soft smile, crouching down to give her a hug, kissing her head.

“I love you, Mom.” Mary’s voice cracked and Fliss pressed her face harder into her hair, pulling her even closer, before she pulled back a little bit and smiled.

“I love you too. And I’m proud of you. You were so brave then.”

Fliss straightened up as Mary walked from the room after bidding everyone a goodnight, before she turned to Frank who was watching her carefully, knowing from the way her face was crumpling that her emotions were about to boil over completely. “Frankie…she…” Fliss stuttered, her chest heaving as Frank stepped forward quickly. “She just…”

“I know…” He wrapped his arms round her and pulled her close as she began to sob, her face pressed into his t-shirt. He stood, his large arms holding her against him, one hand gently resting on the back of her neck, his thumb gently arching over the skin at the back of her ear as he slowly rocked her to-and-fro on the spot, pressing a kiss to her head.

“I’ll make us some tea.” Verity swallowed, and Frank looked at her gratefully as she passed, Bill following, the man gently squeezing Fliss’ shoulder. The room was silent apart from the clinking of mugs as Verity gathered the items she needed to make them all a drink, and Thor’s soft little whines of concern, the dog eventually sticking his head in between Frank and Fliss, nudging Fliss’s thigh with his nose, his noises of distress becoming more and more high pitched. Fliss looked down, Frank’s arm curling over her shoulder as she reached down and scratched behind his ear, before the dog stood on his hind legs, his large paws reaching Fliss’ shoulders as she stooped towards him as he gently licked the tears from her face, his noises dying down a little. Frank watched the animal, a warm feeling in his chest. He’d never seen him react in this way before. He knew from tales Fliss had told him that he’d often comforted her before once her shit bag ex had given her a battering, and he’d seen the dog seek her out when she was upset or worried, but never in such an overt way like this.

“I know you’re not keen on the idea.” Fliss sniffed, looking at Frank and he turned his eyes from the dog to her. “But, can he sleep on the end of the bed, just for tonight?”

Frank looked at her, then back to the dog. Having never had pets as a kid, the bond between a human and an animal was never something he’d really given a second thought to, that is until Mary had found Fred. But since meeting Fliss, seeing the way she was with Thor and her horses, seeing how Mary was with Monty, he’d started to really comprehend that the ties went beyond a simple love. They were bonds, bonds that transcended species, bonds that snaked their way around your heart and latched on with barbs and having one of those bonds wrenched away was not only excruciating but it was devastating.

In simple terms, it was like losing a member of your family, and that Frank could relate to. It was a physical pain, a searing knife which twisted in your heart every time you thought about the person you’d lost.

The lump in Frank’s throat grew even larger as he reached out and scratched Thor behind the ear, the dog turning to him and licking the underside of his forearm, his bushy tail wagging against Frank’s leg.

“I think we can make an exception for one night.” He smiled, looking at Fliss before he pressed a soft kiss to her temple.

*****

Frank was glad their bed was a kingsize. Whilst he never minded particularly that Thor would lounge on the bed with them before they were going to sleep, or in the mornings when they got up, having the big animal on there all night could have been a problem, but as it stood, the dog was perfectly happy to curl up round the peak in the covers which Fliss’ feet made, and she pointed out to Frank that he’d probably hop off and get on his basket at some point during the night.

“He used to do that, anyway.” She shrugged. “When I was in the annex that is. Asshole never let him on the bed. If he was ever away for a few days and I let him or Loki up, I used to have to change the bedding so he wouldn’t find out. One day I forgot and…well, you can figure the rest.”

“Shhhh.” Frank kissed her neck softly as he pulled her closer, her back pressing into his chest wrapping his arms around her. “Try and get some sleep, Sweetheart. It’s late.”

“Thank you.” She whispered.

“What for?”

“Just being you.” She let out a deep breath and turned her head so she could look at him.

“Well, that is one thing I’m pretty good at.” He quipped and Fliss gave a soft chuckle before she took a deep breath.

“I know you’re busy at the shop, but is there any chance you could start late tomorrow?” She asked him softly. “I don’t wanna be on my own when they come to take her.”

“I’m not going in tomorrow.” Frank shook his head. “And Mary’s not going to school. We’ve had a late and upsetting night so I think we should all take it easy, spend some family time together. I thought maybe we could go for a drive, head down to Bay Vista Park.” He suggested. “There’s plenty of shade to sit in. We can take a picnic, climb some trees, me and Mary can have a game of Ultimate Frisbee, perhaps a swim. Hey, we might even spot some manatees.”

“Sounds great.” Fliss agreed, turning her head back round and laying down on the pillow. It was silent for a while, and Frank thought she’d drifted off to sleep until he felt her take a shuddering breath and her shoulders began to shake.

“Hey, come on.” Frank pulled her closer, pressing another kiss to her neck and she turned in his arms, pressing her face into his chest.

“I can’t believe she’s gone.” Fliss sniffed, as Frank’s hand ran up and down her back.

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I wish there was something I could do to make this better.”

“This is helping, a little.” She spluttered and Frank gave a soft chuckle, kissing her head again.

“Then you can stay like this all night.” He replied, closing his eyes as he simply held her close.

Eventually, Frank felt Fliss’ breathing grow even, and even though he couldn’t see in the dark of their room he knew she was asleep.

“Night, Baby.” He whispered, kissing her forehead and at that he heard Thor give out a little huff as the dog hopped down off the bed, his basket creaking before there was a soft thud indicating he’d bedded down there.

And, as Frank drifted off, he couldn’t help smile at just how the faithful dog had waited until he knew his precious human was asleep before he left her side. 

***** Chapter 22

Dedicated to  my gorgeous, wonderful, bad tempered but oh-so-loyal and loving chestnut mare, Sandybrook Hideaway. Keep waiting on that rainbow bridge until I find you again.

[madamebaggio]

Notes: Previously...

Also, in the next chapter, things finally get on moving... ;)

***

Faramir wasn’t quite sure how he got roped into taking Lady Margaery for a stroll through the gardens, but there he was.

Her brother was walking a few steps behind them, but the lady was paying him no mind. She was a pleasant coversionalist; charming and witty. He also wasn’t exactly certain of what she wanted.

“The gardens are lovely, my lord.” She told him.

“You are too kind, Lady Tyrell.” He nodded at her.

“Not at all.” She waved away his modesty. “It is impressive, as a matter of fact, and I am particularly knowledgeable on the subject.”

“Right. You have mentioned something of the sort.”

“Exactly.” She gave him a sunny smile.

Faramir cleared his throat. “My lady… I have heard you met my brother on the road.” She’d told his father something to that effect, but Faramir hadn’t wished to discuss it with Denethor.

“I have.”

“How was he?”

“He was quite lost.” She admitted. “And he did not have a horse anymore, but he was well. We gave him a horse to continue his journey.”

“That was very kind of you.”

“Oh no. I did do it for a price.” She whispered to him as if she was about to share a big secret.

“A price?” Faramir frowned.

“Yes. He was supposed to show me the city, so we will have to keep this garden stroll a secret when he returns.” She teased him.

A surprised chuckle left Faramir’s lips. “It will be our secret, my lady.”

***

There was something about Lady Tyrell that Queen Lucy didn’t trust -at all. Mostly it was because the woman wouldn’t tell the complete truth about anything. She was keeping her secrets -her mission -concealed, under the guise that the Dragon Queen was willing to help Gondor fight Mordor.

It seemed too good to be that simple, but Lucy didn’t know how she could talk about this without the other woman learning about her suspicions.

Edmund was… A tad more impatient.

“Our sister is in Rohan.” He said during dinner. “She said that Queen Sansa is also there.”

“I have heard rumours.” Margaery said politely.

“Do you know her?” Edmund pressed.

“I do. Although…” She put a hand to her chest. “It is a bit of a complicated story.”

“How so?”

“You see, my lord, I met Queen Sansa a long time ago, under… Complicated circumstances.”

“Such as?” Edmund was clearly intent on getting an answer out of her that night.

“Sansa was a political hostage after her father was accused of treason and executed for it.” She told them, her face the perfect semblance of sympathy. “She was but a girl at the time, and she was to be wed to the King who had ordered her father’s execution.”

“That must have been horrible for her.” Faramir said with a frown.

“It was.” Margaery conceded. “However, I was presented to the King as a better choice, and he decided to not marry her anymore.”

“You stole her betrothed?” Lucy couldn’t help but ask.

“Trust me, my lady, she did not mind it at all.” Margaery waved the concern away. “We became good friends.”

Now they were getting somewhere. “Have you remained friends?” Edmund wanted to know.

“As I said… It was complicated.” Margaery sighed sadly. “Joffrey -the King -was poisoned during our wedding feast, he died in his mother’s arms.”

“Oh my!” Lucy covered her mouth.

“Yes. It was quite horrifying.” Margaery nodded. “And Sansa was accused of doing it, but she escaped the city before they could get to her. We spent years apart after that, and only met briefly after the end of the war for the Iron Throne, when she came to bargain for the North’s indepence.” She took a sip from her wine.

“Why did the Dragon Queen allow it to happen?” Denethor spoke up for the first time in a while.

“It was an agreement based on a few things, but most of all no one desired to keep on fighting at that point.” Margaery told him. “King’s Landing was destroyed, the North was not in a better situation, so it was decided it was for the best if we laid down the weapons.”

“So you do not keep in touch with Queen Sansa?” Edmund pushed again.

“Queen Sansa has my respect, but Queen Daenerys has my loyalty.” She answered.

It didn’t escape the Pevensies’ attention that this wasn’t an answer.

***

“They do not trust us.” Loras commented once they were back from dinner.

“Would you?” Margaery wanted to know.

“Not particularly.” He admitted. “The questions about Queen Sansa… Do you think they know we are talking to her?”

“Maybe.” Margaery shrugged. “They might have spies here.”

“Have you found our spy?”

“No.” She sighed. “Maybe they heard that Twyin is not in power anymore and decided to leave their post.”

Loras hummed his agreement, then eyed his sisters as she prepared to leave. “Are you going to see the Regent again?”

“Lord Denethor has asked to see me after dinner.”

Loras frowned. “He is not… Doing anything to you, is he?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, he is not, Loras. I do not believe he has such interest in me. We just talk.”

“Just be careful.”

Margaery cupped his face. “Always, brother.”

***

Margaery had been in Minas Tirith for quite some time now, and she felt she had a good grasp on Lord Denethor’s personality.

He wasn’t a bad man and he also wasn’t a stupid one. She didn’t get the impression that Lord Denethor coveted the throne for himself.

There was something nervous, almost paranoid in him. There was a shadow of an honourable man, who’d once only wanted to protect his people, before the constant threat made him break.

Queen Lucy might have fantasies about Margaery whispering poisonous words in the Regent’s ears, but the truth was they just talked. A lot.

Denethor told her stories, she did the same. He did ask a lot of questions about Queen Daenerys' armies and dragons, but he’d probably had asked all of those when she arrived. Most of the time she spent with him now was just talking about many subjects -including gossip.

Of course, Denethor wasn’t a man without his flaws -like his glaring favouritism towards his older son.

“Are you communicating with Queen Sansa?” He asked her after a while.

Margaery had been expecting the question -as she’d said, he wasn’t stupid. She’d thought a lot about how she’d answer that when the time came.

Margaery had decided with a partial truth. “I am.”

“What do you talk about?” He gave her a firm look.

“She complains about the estate of things in Rohan, I tell her that the Queen of Narnia thinks I am a wicked witch putting a spell on you.”

Denethor snorted. “I see.” He took a sip from his wine. “What is she doing there?”

“The same I am doing here, I suppose.”

He pinned her with a serious look. “And is that exactly?”

“Offering aid.”

He hummed, but didn’t say anything else for a while and Margaery waited in silence. She knew that people would often say the wrong things when trying to fill the silence, so she avoided it all together.

“It is a sad state of affairs.” He said at last.

Margaery frowned. “My lord?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. It is late, child. Go back to your room.”

Margaery knew a dismissal when she heard one. She got up, curtised prettily and left the man alone.

[vesuvian-american-fics]

better with time. Ch 11

the end of the beginning.

You looked forward to a trip abroad, you share one last meal with your family before your life would change forever. (AO3)

Words: 1,836

Falling.

Falling.

You were falling really fast. Your breath was caught in your throat. The air was hot and scorching. Microscopic beads of sand stuck into your lungs. When you finally opened your eyes a bed of sand that went on for as far as the eyes could see was surging up to meet you head on.

You shielded your face and that was it. For a moment. In the next moment you were waking up in bed. You were home. Your weary father woke you from your deep sleep.

“Wakey wakey deary! Don’t sleep in again Y/N. Today’s a special day, up up!” He cheered, his voice was raspy, his posture was bad from a long life of work to support you and your younger siblings.

“Where am I? Papa?” You asked weakly, the words feeling foreign on your tongue, but not so out of place. Your father gave a hearty laugh, he was a large man, with big rough hands almost always with a coating of soot on the from his job in the coal mines of... you don’t know where you are yet.

“Must be some dream you were having, deary. Get dressed now and come downstairs for some oats for breakfast! The good kind! The kind you loved since you were a baby!” He smiled, a slight wheeze to his voice. Although you could tell your father had a hard life, he was always happy at home. Never letting it be known how tired he really was.

You couldn’t help but find yourself smiling to him, a renewed energy surging through you and getting you up and out of bed.

“I-I’ll be down in a minute Papa!” You shouted after him down the stairs. You were happy, really happy. You felt like you had just been away for a really long time and now you were finally back where you were meant to be. Back home with Papa, your sisters and brother. You remember now that Mother passed away just a few years ago but you had come to peace with that in time. She passed peacefully in her sleep; you were told at the hospital.

After dressing yourself in the clothes that had been left out for you, you skipped down the stairs. Four smaller kids rushed you and squeezed you tightly.

“Y/N! We really miss you!” They shouted in unison, you recognize them at your three younger sisters and your baby brother.

“Huh? But I’ve always been here.” You commented, patting the children atop their heads. They didn’t respond except for giving you one last long squeeze. They felt desperate, clinging a bit longer than what was comfortable for you but you dismissed it as silly child’s play.

You father gave you a big hug as well, picking you up off of your feet before placing you in your seat at the table. The seat you sat in your whole life, you recognized everything you saw. The quilt your mother had sewn, the rusty oven your father loved to overuse, the bowtie around your brother’s neck, every little thing. However, it was as if everything not within your direct line of view simply didn’t exist. You couldn’t remember it, you couldn’t comprehend it, you couldn’t attempt to imagine it if you wanted. It only existed if you saw it. How odd.

“Well Papa, what’s so special about today?” You asked between spoon fulls of your morning oats.

“You hit your head or something? You had been yappin’ about this day for months now! You were one of the Eldian’s chosen to go get on that big ship abroad to a neighboring country! Today’s the day!” He hooted, dropping a heavy plate stacked high with freshly buttered rolls from the oven.

From this moment on you were on autopilot. No longer in control of your actions, you were in the passenger seat of your own existence, only allowed the privilege to see what happens.

“Oh, I can’t wait! I didn’t want to be stuck here forever! No offense Papa, but you know I’ve dreamt of leaving and exploring new things!” You squealed. Right on time, the first horn was blown on the ship announcing the first-class boarding. You gasped and hopped to your feet.

“Obviously that horn isn’t for me but, Papa, I’ve got to get going I don’t want to be late!” You declared, scooping your siblings up into your arms for one last hug. You pecked your father’s cheek with a feather light kiss before grabbing your packed bags and dashing out the door.

There was a flash of regret across your father’s features, but not one the old you noticed in that moment. The you of today, whenever today was, wanted to stop and ask why he looked so troubled. Torn like he didn’t want you to go, but beyond that of missing one’s child off to a trip abroad. A look of dread stricken across his features. Lack of color to his skin, excess sweat beading to his brow and thick tears already spilling over his cheeks.

It sent chills through you.

The next time you opened your eyes you were on a ship, still excited, only a little concerned about the conditions you were being kept in. You hadn't seen your bags since you had boarded the ship. They were quickly taken away by military staff as you were rushed off to where you’d be staying. That was three days ago already. Your room was filled with other girls about your ages. They seemed troubled, they kept quiet only speaking when spoken to. You brushed off the thoughts screaming to you that something was very wrong.

You were Eldian, you knew your conditions wouldn't be pristine in comparison to... the other people. You can’t remember what they’re called for some reason. Let alone the fact that you can’t remember what makes you so different from them. But these were the times you were born into. You can’t change it.

Another two days passed and finally the door to your holding area was opened. You were no longer excited. Only afraid. You don’t know where you are, or why it took so long to get here. Why you hadn’t been able to change clothes in five days and why you hadn’t been offered food for the last day and a half. The other girls were crying now, and had been for a long time that it was starting to make you tear up as well.

“You! With me...” A masked man said as he stomped towards you grabbing you roughly by the arm and dragging you out of the ship and above deck. You were blindfolded and another set of hands dragged you somewhere.

The air was hot and scorching. Microscopic beads of sand were stuck into your lungs. Your blindfold was ripped off and as your eyes adjusted painfully to the change in light your heart jumped into your throat.

“Where am I?” You cried out; your questions were ignored. Instead, you were answered to a sharp pain in your upper arm, a large syringe imbedded into your skin. You cried uncontrollably until you couldn’t manage your breathing. To your right you heard a man's wales echoing, you looked to where the noise was coming from and what you saw made your heart freeze. Everything froze. The man was roughly kicked over the edge of this giant wall down to the desert below.

Then the next man, then a woman, then your neighbor from back home. Next was a child you had recognized from always selling newspapers by the shops back in town. Many more people were kicked from the wall. Screaming, crying, sobbing, puking as they fell.

You were next.

A horrifying man stood before you, a scowl ever-present on his face. You could feel the hatred oozing off of him like a sticky ink and you felt your stomach wretch from the dread that settled deep in there.

You began to shake violently, trying to fight free of the men holding you in place, to run, far far away from this place and never turn back. You were afraid. You were hyperventilating, your face hot and wet from the continuous rivulet of tears streaming from your eyes.

The man was quick, his hand snapped up to grab you harshly by the face, keeping you still.

“I recognize this one. Remember, few years ago? W-what was the name...uhhh. What’s your last name kid?” He asked, his voice was deep and smooth. It sickened you how he was talking so comfortably to you as if he weren't just about to kick you from this wall that was however many meters tall. As much as you wanted to ignore him, your fear won the battle and obediently you answered his question.

“Yeah, yeah! Few years ago, your mom was here! Ha! See I told you I recognized this one, looks just like her old bat of a mom.” The two men laughed in your face as the realization settled in you.

“W-what.... no? No! My mom died in the hospital! You’re lying!!!” You screamed and spat at the two men. Your insolence wasn’t tolerated, and the man in charge punched you harshly in the head.

“Yes, she was! Your mom was on the first batch out here and now it's your turn, and then the rest of your family if we’re lucky, there’s too many of ya.” The men began to laugh again. The two holding you down finally loosened their grip on your shoulders and before you knew it, there was a harsh kick to your back.

Falling.

You were falling really fast. You closed your eyes as you felt your stomach leap as you became weightless. You don’t know how much time passed before you opened your eyes. But a bed of sand that went on for as far as the eyes could see was surging up to meet you head on.

You shielded your face and that was it. For a moment. In the next moment you were coughing violently. Your whole body was sore.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Hange shouted as they cradled your head on their sturdy lap.

Levi sheathed his swords back where they belonged. He was sure you were turning into a titan when a huge cloud of steam surrounded you. However, just as he and Hange made it through the fog you were collapsed and foaming from your mouth after having a particularly violent seizure.

“Papa...” you gargled as your face twisted in pain. Levi frowned, you sounded so weak and... sad. He sighed before calling the horses around and getting you set up securely in the carriage with Hange. The three of you rushed back towards the base where the proper infirmary that you have become so acquainted to was waiting for you.

“You better wake up, you... and explain yourself damnit...” Levi grunted to himself as he pushed his trusted horse as hard as he could towards the horizon.

[themoomoorn]

Random Thot #46,853

I had a health exam for my upcoming new job and put my two weeks in for my current one, so I’m rewarding my neurodivergent ass-brain with this.  Sit tight and enjoy.

46,853: I’m half-convinced that Edelgard is like the Soul Series’ Alexandra sisters and daughter when it comes to her combat ability - or rather, lack thereof.  Unlike Claude, Dimitri, and Byleth, who all explicitly received combat training as children, Edelgard likely did not.  The tools given to her are what likely allow for her to fight at all - heck, they may even do a bit of the fighting for her.  How else can a noodle-armed womanlet like her wear all that armor and heft that axe?  

(Also, how the eff does this dress make clanking armor sounds when she walks in the game despite this dress having like no armor whatsoever)

To begin with, we have in-game factoids of her stat caps being the second highest in the game (390 when combined, with Cyril only beating her by 5 points due to his Aptitude skill), and she even has a magic cap that’s not only on-par with other magically-inclined units (72), but it’s actually better than some of them (Dorothea and Linhardt, who are both dedicated mage types, have caps of 61 and 66, respectively, while Manuela, who tends to get placed in Faith Magic-aligned classes despite being a hybrid unit, has a piddling cap 48).  She even has a quirky but feasible spell list for both magic types (Fire/Bolganone/Luna Lambda/Hades Omega for Reason, and Heal/Nosferatu/Recover/Seraphim for Faith, which is one of her banes, mind you).  I imagine this is the work of the experiments that gave her her version of the Crest of Flames - after all, the 2020 DREAM interview noted that the Hresvelg children were given a more “refined” version of the experiments the Ordelias had.  The refinement isn’t just reflected in-game with caps and magic too; Edelgard is also more robust in terms of health, whereas Lysithea is prone to bouts of weakness and illness.  In-game, she has poor Luck and Strength, and the single lowest HP cap of all the playable units at 48.  And while this one is admittedly conjecture, Edelgard doesn’t hint that her lifespan was drastically cut, as she gets to live a long life in all of her endings.  Even in her Crest-heavy ending with Hanneman or her healthcare-related ending with Manuela don’t mention that she had one or both of her Crests taken out.  Lysithea, on the other hand, is extensively motivated by the fact that she doesn’t have many years left, and it’s only in two endings (Lorenz, Balthus) where she’s able to live fairly long without removing her Crests; The rest either have her dying young or being able to live long only after her Crests are taken out.

Now what of her combat abilities?  Let’s turn to the source of where this silly thot came from.

For the uninitiated, Sophitia Alexandra, a fighter who’s been in the Soul Franchise since its very first game, did not grow up as a dedicated combatant like the other fighters - she was an ordinary baker living in Athens during the late 16th Century when Greece was part of the Ottoman Empire.  When she was bathing in a lake one day, she received a message from Hephaestus himself in that she has a divine destiny to destroy the cursed blade Soul Edge, and he gifts her with a divinely crafted short sword and shield in order to fulfill her mission.  While she does gain training in Athenian combat styles, a lot of her power and capabilities are tied to her weapon set, which are named the Omega Sword and Elk Shield.  Her younger sister Cassandra would follow suit in SoulCalibur II, actually going out of her way to steal the same holy armaments Sophitia used in Soul Edge and SoulCalibur I before getting her own specially empowered set.

(Sophitia Alexandra)

And Pyrrha, Sophitia’s daughter in SoulCalibur V, takes it to new heights.  Per a data book, the timid, mistreated Pyrrha has absolutely no combat experience, not even in self-defense.  While Sophitia and Cassandra were able to train themselves into formidable soldiers outside of their divine weapons’ influences, this is not true for Pyrrha.  If it were not for the sword and shield Pyrrha wielded (which is the same exact set Sophitia wielded before her passing), her clumsy attacks and timid guard stances would amount to ineffectual, useless flailing.  

(Info about Pyrrha’s fighting style from the SCV data book)

Back to the Egg.  Now it’s made abundantly clear that while Dimitri’s Jean Valjean-levels of raw strength heavily stem from his Crest, he’s also from the land where, in lieu of milk and honey, there’s extreme sports jock training in heavy armor in the dead of night with boulders for weights and weapon mastery.  Dimitri loves to train, and it’s a big aspect of his character.  The tritagonist of his route is also one of his combat trainers, and he’s done that job for three generations’ worth of Faerghus royalty, with his ending hinting that he keeps doing it for one more.  I imagine that even without the Crest of Blaiddyd, Dimitri would still be extremely strong and formidable, he’d just have to actually exert himself a little when saving some poor soul from a runaway cart.

(Just in case the savior imagery wasn’t clear enough with Dimitri, he even did lift a cart the way eventual saint Jean Valjean did in the book/musical)

Claude is far more in favor of covert combat, and his own Crest is more defensive than offensive, but he’s no slouch either, having had a renowned war general serve as his combat instructor since childhood.  He’s from a kingdom that, much like Faerghus, values the way of the warrior and prides itself on the strength of its people.  His hidden talent, tying to wyvern mastery, is in friggin axes, and he’s also shown to be adept enough with a sword at various points.  Plus there’s the fact that he was abused and mistreated by his Almyran family, complete with his father plopping him on a horse and making the horse ride off with him backwards with no safety net as a form of punishment - Claude tells Hilda that there was a “trick” in how he survived that.  As any horse jockey can attest to, you need raw muscle in every part of your body in order to really ride one, and I imagine that’s doubly true for your local albino wyvern that’s decked out in Ottoman visual puns.  Plus learning how to be crafty and protecting oneself more covertly undoubtedly contributed to his combat abilities too.

(I mean you’d have to be shredded if you can pull off the Parthian shot on a fucking flying dragon.  61 Strength cap my ass.)

Byleth, as we know, grew up as a mercenary to the point of detriment.  There’s no need to go into extensive detail as to how Jeralt sacrificed almost everything else in exchange for contributing to Byleth’s combat abilities without being abusive and cruel, but even if you took away Byleth’s self-insert aspects, they’d likely bear a passing resemblance to Rei Ayanami in terms of behavior and attitude - An intended vessel/Avatar for a divine being from one end; Conditioned for little more than combat from another end.  Kind of a gloomy picture before she starts to express herself better and actually bond with other people meaningfully.  

(At least she’s cute as a button.  Kinda like Rei.)

But where does that leave Edelgard?  It’s a big question mark.  There’s no mention of her growing up with any kind of combat training, unlike the other three.  Heck, if tea time, Crimson Flower, and Heroes quotes are anything to go by, Edelgard grew up living a carefree lifestyle prior to the Insurrection.  She got to stuff her face with sweets and play with teddy bears and both dote and be doted on by her siblings.  Being child number 9 in her current generation, combat training and political studies likely weren’t major priorities for her, and since it’s speculated that Ionius favored her mother, she was likely lavished and spoiled by him.  After all, he expresses grief for her specifically when she inherits the throne from him, not the rest of her siblings.    

(Even the official merchandise notes how childish Edelgard is)

(This is all after she literally kickstarts her war, by the way).

While there’s varying degrees of elaborate flair that the Lords all wield their weapons with, Edelgard’s regular strikes with an axe feel far less rigid and more informal, and she’ll spin around her axe like it’s some kind of prop.  Her default battle stance isn’t even remotely protective and quite impractical; Dimitri’s stance with a lance is both of these things, while Claude’s arrow-twirling is a real-life exercise that’s done to keep the wrist flexible.  While she does refine her axe skills come Part II, she’ll still do things like throw her massive shield ten feet in the air for a critical hit.

(Seriously what even is this why is your hand out like that)

There’s even some proof of this: In her study request for axes and heavy armor, Edelgard will even acknowledge that the only reason she can likely keep up and wear heavy armor at all is because of her Crests.  And unlike Dimitri and Claude, who can get lesson plans for their respective Hidden Talents once they’re mastered (Horse riding for Dimitri, axes for Claude), Edelgard doesn’t get a lesson plan for Reason Magic, which is her Hidden Talent, so she likely didn’t get any kind of formal education surrounding magic either.  

(She has a similar quote in Heroes that’s even more explicit about this.)

The closest hint we get in Edelgard maybe having a hint of training as a child is in her Supports with Ferdinand, and even then, there’s no clear cut hint noting that his failures in beating her were combat-based.  She’s able to one-hit KO him in their B Support, but it’s locked to Part II and at this point she’s been both riding on the power highs of her Crests along with actually taking combat seriously.  She even says that their difference in skill level isn’t that great.

(Should’ve used Swift Strikes, Ferdie)

What’s more, in addition to all of those enhancements, she not only spends a lot of Part I in a custom set of armor that only archaic technology from the Agarthans can make, but they also made her a custom Relic that’s tailor-made to her specifications.  The other Relics as well as the Sacred Weapons, being over a thousand years old, still require their wielders to train in order to wield them properly, and in the case of the Relics, their potential cannot be fully tapped into unless the wielder’s Crest matches the Relic they’re wielding.  There’s also that particular safety issue, per what happens with Sylvain’s brother Miklan.  But this is not the case with Aymr, which is brand new, has a mismatched Crest that doesn’t negatively affect Edelgard, and requires the Agarthan tech-compatible Agarthium to fix, not the Umbral Steel that’s used to fix both the Heroes’ Relics and other Crest Stone weapons like the Vajra-Mushti.  The Aymr’s specific Combat Art even emulates the oft-broken Galeforce skill from Awakening and Fates.  It feels like that Aymr in particular is the Edelgard what Hephaestus’ swords and shields are to the Alexandra family.  

Now I don’t really think that an Edelgard who’d be stripped of her Crest of Flames, the Amyr, or her special Flame Emperor armor, would be as hapless as Pyrrha would be without her mother’s sword and shield.  I imagine she likely started to do some kind of formal combat training once the experiments were done with, not just to kickstart her dreams of imperial conquest, but also to protect herself anyway after everything that happened; She’s also the only Hresvelg heiress of her generation left.  There’s also her natural Minor Crest of Seiros to consider.  But if you stripped all that away from her, then her ability to fight probably would come off as useless flailing to the other three more experienced combatants.  

All those cakes and that lack of muscle would at least catch up to her, anyway.

[yurileclercseyeliner]

A Dumb Rant About A Webtoon

Okay so I’m actually super into reading webcomics (I read them on both Webtoon and Tapas), and although this has nothing to do with my blog (I AM considering making a side blog for webcomic content/reviews tho) I sort of feel like ranting about one that I saw. I’m sorry, but if you like Athena Complex this is probably going to piss you off. Admittedly, I couldn’t get far into the comic without being upset about this so I stopped reading a few chapters in, so that may affect my opinion here. This is mainly my opinion though, and if you disagree with me it’s fine.

So I did mention in my Fire Emblem kelpie beast unit post my opinion on mythological adaptation. Essentially, I believe that when you adapt any sort of mythological being into your story you need to keep these two things in mind:

The recognizable features/symbols/abilities: by this I mean what physical features is this being known to have, what are their physical/magical abilities, what objects are they most associated with, etc. You don’t need to have every single thing that is mentioned in the source material, just a decent combination of them that can allow the reader to easily connect the adaptation to the source material.

This factor mainly applies to individual characters as opposed to a full species or classification of creatures (I have read a decent number of mythological adaptations and have seen a mythical species depicted as evil in one adaptation and benevolent or neutral in another and enjoyed both, it all depends on if it makes sense in the context). What are the character’s main personal views, goals, and motivations? By this I mean how do they think and what are their views on the world around them, and what is the context surrounding that? Essentially, what can their main personalities and motivations be boiled down to and why?

After those two factors, I think that you can then go buck wild with any other characterization as long as it isn’t contradictory and makes sense in your story.

Now that I have set that down here’s my deal with Athena Complex. Athena Complex is a Webtoon based on Greek mythology that follows Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom and strategy. She falls in love with Poseidon, the god of the sea, and is rejected by him. Fueled by vengeance and a desire to win his heart she takes the form of a high school boy in order to take revenge on his reincarnation. Basically, this entire Webtoon is practically a public execution of a large part of what makes Athena, well, Athena.

First off, I will give credit to Athena Complex for at least getting the symbolism correct, Athena is a goddess of wisdom and war and when in the form of a goddess her design reflects that with her armor, among other things such as her association with owls, so the first aspect that I mentioned is fine.

Additionally there is the fact that they also did heavily tap into the prideful aspect of Athena’s nature. Essentially in the source material Athena is a VERY prideful goddess and will take any opportunity to prove her worth if someone attempt to upstage her, and gets very angry when she fails or is insulted in the process (ie the story of Arachne, the story behind the double flute). This aspect could also be seen slightly in Athena Complex’s Athena’s behavior, which I can also give them credit for.

But that’s where a lot of the similarities end. Tbh a large majority of these issues surround the second aspect, the basics of the figure’s personality and motivations.

First, Athena’s stance on romance. Original Athena...literally wanted nothing to do with any sort of romantic relationship. Seriously it’s one of her main things one of her epithets is literally “Parenthos”, which means virgin. No lovers, no sex, no marriage, no intentionally created children (I say intentionally bc she and Hepheastus accidentally created a child when his snot got onto a torn piece of her cloak, but that’s a different weird story), nothing. She solely focused on the expansion of knowledge and learning. She had no time for any sort of relationship. Making Athena in Athena Complex heavily motivated by an unrequited romantic attraction literally rips one of her main core values to shreds.

And this in my opinion one of the worst offenses, MAKING THE SUBJECT OF THAT ROMANTIC ATTRACTION POSEIDON. Literally one MAJOR thing for the original Athena and Poseidon is that they HATE each other. (Also Athena is literally Poseidon’s niece, but tbh that’s a less heinous crime bc Greek mythology was weird about that shit, multiple gods married their siblings/cousins/uncles/aunts/nieces/nephews/etc., it’s weird. Also in Athena Complex Poseidon acted the main person raising Athena, which is ALSO really fucking weird and concerning, anyway back to why they hate each other).

The Contest for Athens: Basically before the Greek city of Athens was called Athens the people were looking for a patron deity, and both Athena and Poseidon tried to lay their claim. In order to determine who the city would go to, they decided to have a contest of who could give the city the best gift. Poseidon gave the city some horses (for transportation and farmwork) and a small spring in the middle of the city (note: the water in the spring was salt water and therefore undrinkable). Athena gave them olive trees (for food, making oil, wood, etc.). The peoplr decided that Athena’s gift was better and thus named the city “Athens” after her, leaving Poseidon incredibly salty.

The Medusa Incident (TW: possible rape/non-con): So Poseidon was having a nice little affair with a mortal woman named Medusa (you notice how this name is familiar, right? that’s important). It’s a little iffy on whether or not this affair was fully consensual on Medusa’s end due to the sort of victim blame-y aspects to this story, hence the trigger warning. So Poseidon his having his fun and decides to find a nice little place they can go to do the nasty. Where does he think would be a great idea? One of Athena’s temples of course! You know, a literal place of worship dedicated to his rival who is known to dislike involvement in romantic/sexual relationships? Nothing could go wrong at all! They of course get caught, and Athena, being pissed, decides to curse Medusa with snakes for hair and the ability to turn people into stone just by looking at them (see why the name was familiar?) For good measure she also curses Medusa’s two sisters with the snake hair. The sisters are then dubbed the Gorgons and then go live in isolation on a island until they are killed by Perseus (a hero that Athena was helping).

So this Webtoon completely ignores the context behind this hatred and decides to make it into an enemies to lovers story based on unrequited feelings (the feelings of a person for their childhood caretaker too...still weird). I guess they wanted to do enemies to lovers and such based on a rivalry dynamic, but in doing so they erased most of the actual substance behind that rivalry by making it romantic and destroying the characterization of one of the main characters.

I can understand taking creative liberties, but before you do so you NEED to have a full understanding of the characters that you are adapting. If a mythological character is known for a certain practice (refraining from romance) or for having an extreme distaste for another figure (Athena hating Poseidon), INCLUDE IT. You NEED to have all of the bare bones basics before you start taking liberties.

For example, the original Athena:

Goddess of wisdom and strategy

Association with owls, olives, carries a shield known as Aegis

Highly values learning and knowledge

Prideful to a fault

Virgin goddess with no interest in romantic or sexual relationships

Extreme hatred for Poseidon as a result of repeated negative encounters

Those are the bare bones basics, after that you can do what you want.

Honestly I don’t think that this Webtoon is necessarily BAD, but it is VERY annoying when you have the context behind these characters (hence my frustration and inability to make it past 10 chapters). In my opinion, if the author wanted to write this storyline, they should have made their own OCs as opposed to butchering a pre-existing figure’s characterization.

(Also I’m so sorry I know that this isn’t relevant to my argument BUT THE POSEIDON REINCARNATION LOOKS SO BORING HE LOOKS LIKE A BACKGROUND CHARACTER WHERE IS THE FLAVOR????)

[myhahnestopinion]

THE AARONS 2020 - Best TV Show

It was prime time for TV in 2020, with many more free hours to fill. I managed to get through a lot of my backlog in fact, finally getting around to watching shows like The Strain. It’s a show about a deadly disease that tears society apart because a lot of arrogant people think they are exempt from quarantining. The disease turns people into vampires, so it’s technically escapism. Here are the Aarons for Best TV Show: 

#10. The Plot Against America (Miniseries) - HBO

It’s not TV, it’s not HBO, it’s real life. The Wire-creator David Simon’s penchant for illustrating the human fallout of institutional failures made him a perfect collaborator for HBO’s Plot Against America, an adaptation of Phillip Roth’s alternate-history novel. Following a Jewish family in New Jersey navigating the increasingly-fascist America of a hypothetical Charles Lindbergh administration, the show is a terrifying warning of what happens when hatred and conspiracy theories are allowed to accumulate political force. Notably, while the book ends with history back on the right track, the closing moments here are left ambiguous. The show was a limited series, but in many ways, The Plot Against America is ongoing.

#9. Mrs. America (Miniseries) - FX

Its interests are married to The Plot Against America, but Mrs. America traces the country’s rising extremism from a more historically accurate perspective. The miniseries centers on political activists in the 1970s on opposing sides of the proposed Equal Rights Amendment, but its dialogue isn’t a strict dichotomy. The episodic format is expertly utilized to build out intersectional ideas from the likes of Rose Byrne’s Gloria Steinem, Uzo Aduba’s Shirley Crisholm, and Margo Martindale’s Bella Abzug, detailing the difficulties in building a diverse coalition, and the dangers of a single-minded one. Drawing parallels to current debates, its compelling centerpiece is how conservative Phylis Shafley (Cate Blanchett) successfully defeats the Amendment; voting against your own self-interests, Mrs. America says, is as American as apple pie.

#8. The Outsider (Miniseries) - HBO

Societal collapse comes from within in the two shows mentioned above, but the threat in HBO’s adaptation of Stephen King’s 2018 novel is decidedly an “other.” King clearly had his mind on modern manipulations of truth when crafting the ingenious premise: a man is arrested for the murder of two young boys due to irrefutable DNA evidence, only to provide an air-tight alibi for the crime. To match King’s procedural prose, HBO brought on The Night Of’s David Price, who layers the original work with meticulous mysteries. The Outsider has all the pulpy jolts expected of the author, but the show’s true horror lies in its overbearing grief, best brought to life by Ben Mendelsohn’s Detective Anderson. To say more would be to spoil its secrets; you’ll want to be on the inside.

#7. Perry Mason (Season 1) - HBO

Just like the famous fictional attorney, HBO can’t seem to lose, with Perry Mason marking its third entry on this list. The reimagining of the long running court drama actually takes place before the character’s illustrious law career; here he’s a down-on-his-luck private eye caught up in a scandalous child kidnapping case. The result’s a gangbusters production of old-fashioned moody noir: political corruption, femme fatales, and a more morally-complicated Mason, as played by The Americans’ Matthew Rhys. The lavish period details and character-actor cast, including Shea Whigham, John Lithgow, and Tatiana Maslany, will help draw viewers in, but, I’ll confess, I was already hooked by the season’s chilling opening moments.

#6. Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist (Season 1) - NBC

Dour seasons have dominated this list thus far, but Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist sings a different tune. It’s a lovably oddball premise: an accident during an MRI causes a young woman, played by Jane Levy, to hear other people’s thoughts in the form of popular music. It’s all karaoke, but, emphasized by the presence of Skylar Astin, a worthy inheritor to Crazy Ex-Girlfriend’s musical-comedy crown. The tracklist, workplace antics, and love-triangle drama all exist in a comfortingly familiar network TV realm, but the show takes additional steps for inclusion with stories highlighting Zoey’s genderfluid neighbor (Alex Newell) and an American Sign Language performance of Rachel Platten’s “Fight Song.” During a year in need of shuffling off stress, there was no better time to queue up Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist.

#5. What We Do in The Shadows (Season 2) - FX

FX’s expansion of the mockumentary feature film of the same name lit up some of the darker corners of its universe in the show’s second season, transforming mundane-seeming material into something completely, uniquely batty. Each creature of Shadows took their turn in the spotlight this season, from a middle-management promotion gifting energy-vampire Colin Robinson unlimited supernatural power, to undead Nadja befriending a doll possessed by her own ghost, to Matt Berry’s Lazlo forging a small-town persona as a bartender/volleyball coach to escape a vengeful Mark Hamill. As always, it was the sympathetic Guillermo (Harvey Guillén), a Van Helsing descendent desperate to become a vampire, who gave the show its emotional stakes, and the vampires within a different kind altogether.

#4. Stargirl (Season 1) - DC Universe

Shadows was lit, but few things burned brighter this year than Stargirl (perhaps too brightly for the flamed-out DC Universe). The superhero drama is one of several that will outlive its original streaming service - fitting, given its obsession with legacy. Based on a character created by DC Comics stalwart Geoff Johns after the tragic loss of his sister, the show finds a young girl taking on the mantle of a fallen hero after moving to a town run in secret by supervillains. With sprightly fight choreography and an unabashed embrace of its comic book lore, Stargirl outshines the overabundance of small-screen superheroes out there. Its highlight is the bright performance of lead Brec Bassinger; put simply, she’s a star, girl.

#3. BoJack Horseman (Season 6b) - Netflix

Throughout its run, BoJack Horseman garnered acclaim for routinely delivering unexpected pathos, and the final season kept it on that track until the end. ...Get it, because horses run on tracks? The unexpected porter of television’s legacy of antiheroes ended in much the same vein as its sister shows - with consequences finally catching up with its protagonist. No amount of fanciful animal puns could soften that painful catharsis, as the show finally trampled its tricky web of abuse through bittersweet means. The series closed out with an especially thoughtful scene, the kind viewers who looked past the wonky pilot years ago were regularly blessed with; to the very end, BoJack, you were a gift, horse.

#2. Better Call Saul (Season 5) - AMC

As good as Bad ever was and better than ever before, the fifth season of AMC’s spin-off completely upended the world of its eponymous lawyer while bringing Vince Gilligan’s universe one step away from full-circle. Saul Goodman found himself in way over his head, and viewers found themselves way on the edge of their seats, as his first foray into “criminal” lawyering swiftly dovetailed with an escalating drug war. Despite the emotional distress of watching fan-favorite character Kim Wexler placed in perilous situations, there are no objections to be had with the drama’s continued masterful storytelling. Ramping up the slow-burn storytelling, season five saw Kim and Saul’s relationship develop in rich and unexpected ways, while still keeping their final fates unresolved. Fans are thus waiting with bated breath for the show’s final call next year. 

#1. The Great (Season 1) - Hulu

Who could be the best but The Great? There was a minor television controversy this year over Netflix marketing The Crown as a historical drama despite its fictional interpretation of events; The Great has no such pretentions. An asterix adorns every title card of the show, letting viewers know that its take on Catherine the Great’s coup against Emperor Peter III of Russia is only “an occasionally true story.” The show indeed is not great for education, but it’s the most entertaining television of the year, locking stars Elle Fanning and Nicholas Hoult in a battle of wits and a fight for the country’s soul under the watch of The Favourite co-writer Tony McNamara. The uproarious comedy slyly collates leadership based in cruelty with leadership based in goodwill in the background of its quite bawdy escapades, a subtle bit of relevant political maneuvering that lets it successfully claim the crown this year.

NEXT UP: THE 2020 AARONS FOR BEST TV EPISODE!

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Ranked S

Tigre stood in the doorway to the dining hall of Cassell College in awe of the massive chandelier. It was gold, in the shape of a great tree under a high domed ceiling and every leaf was a light. It was the most magnificent thing he had seen in all of the College so far and it was accessible because he knew what a tree was and what a lamp was and he could see that this work of art was the two put together. What great innovation!

After spending a few hours last night with Chu Zihang’s friends, he felt too excited to sleep. He kept fiddling with the tablet computer all night, surfing the internet and googling all manner of things until the machine ran out of batteries. They had explained how to charge it, but Tigre felt a moment of great panic when the low battery warning came up. What if he tried to charge it and it didn’t work? He’d be up a creek on his first day of school.

The freshman students in green uniforms all sat at very long heavy wooden tables. He recognized the Smith sisters and waved, trotting up to them and sitting down. “Hi! I hope you feel better now!”

The Smith sisters all looked at him in silence and uncomfortable smiles. Except for Ruby. She gave a little laugh and said. “Yeah, we do… thanks.”

They all wore the same hairstyle with their hair tied up and back and the mass of curls poofed out like a bouquet of flowers. They still had the insect motif. Ruby with her butterfly earrings, Porsche with her dragonfly earrings, and Ladybug Celeste.

“Oh. What’s that on the wall? Is that dragon language too?” Tigre asked in wonder.

“That’s Latin…” Porsche drawled. “You should be able to tell if you speak Spanish.” She rested her cheek in her hand and pointed at him, doubt filling her voice.

“He said he only spoke a little!” Ruby was quick to defend him. “It’s just saying ‘Welcome new students.”

“Oh… Latin…” Now that he stared at it he could tell it was a bit like Spanish. 

Suddenly a silver platter was settled in front of him and the lid opened to reveal a plate of hardboiled eggs, bread, cheese and ham. He yelped in surprise. “Woah!”

Ruby laughed again. Even Celeste cracked a smile. “You must have grown up in the boonies. You act like you’re in Disney World.” She said, chuckling.

Tigre was already stuffing his face with the bread and eggs and mumbled. “No, I’m from Mexico.”

Celeste shook her head, covering her smile. “I know! What I meant was… you know what? Never mind. It’s nice to meet someone who’s not a sourpuss.”

A sudden hush fell over the dining room and a few students stood up as Lu Mingfei entered accompanied by the members of the Student Union Elite and a beautiful woman walking behind him. “That’s Lu Mingfei, S ranked President of the Student Union. I hear he’s back from killing a real dragon.” Ruby explained in a hush whisper. “I hear he’s the strongest student the College has ever had.”

“Really he did?” Tigre watched in awe. This guy was so quiet and normal and humble, he never imagined that he could have killed a dragon. “I heard he was President of the Student Union. What does that mean?”

“There are many clubs here but two main ones. The Student Union and Lionheart. The Student Union was run by Caesar Gattuso who killed the King of Bronze and Fire two years ago. He passed his club to Lu Mingfei. Lionheart was run by Chu Zihang who killed the King of Earth and Mountains year before last. They had a great rivalry but Lu Mingfei doesn’t seem to be interested in continuing that and Lionheart leadership has been hollowed out. Chu Zihang, Susie, and Lancelot all graduated. They were all the Lionheart elite.”

“Was run? Chu Zihang doesn’t run it any more?” 

“No, he graduated recently and was sent on missions. In fact, they’re all graduated now. Caesar is in Rome in the Italy branch.”

Tigre’s chewing slowed and he swallowed. “Graduated… so Chu Zihang doesn’t go here any more…”

“No, he was just here recovering from his last mission. He’ll probably go back to work now that he’s fully recovered.” Porsche shrugged.

He sighed and lowered his eyes. “Oh… he… he didn’t tell me that.”

Celeste’s elegant eyebrow raised. “Why would he tell you that? Do you know him?”

For the first time, Tigre seemed genuinely sad to the sisters. He stopped eating and hung his head. “Yeah. He saved my life.”

“Get out!” Porsche’s eyes were wide in her head. “How did that happen?”

Tigre looked on the verge of tears. “It’s kinda sad but I was not let out of a prison all my life. Chu Zihang broke me out of that prison and that’s how I came here. He gave me a computer tablet. He didn’t say he was leaving.”

The sisters all fixed him with sad serious gazes.

“No wonder you don’t know anything…” Ruby sighed.

“I… I’ll send him a farewell message later I guess.” He mumbled. He understood that Chu Zihang had to leave, but did he have to leave without saying anything? The tablet computer must have been a goodbye gift as well as a welcome gift.

The Smith sister’s eyes all went wide at the same time, like a row of kittens. They were looking behind him and when Tigre turned around, Lu Mingfei was standing behind him. 

“All settled in?”

“Yes… sir?” He asked.

“Oh no, not you too with the sir stuff.” Mingfei lamented, one hand on his head. 

“I’m sorry I just heard you were the strongest student in Cassell!” Tigre explained quickly.

Lu Mingfei winced slowly and sighed. “Anyway. I wanted to ask you if you’ve settled in alright.”

Tigre nodded. He noticed that all the students in the dining hall were staring at him. Some of them whispered to each other, their eyes fixed on him as they did so.

“I heard Chu Zihang was leaving. Do you know when?” Tigre asked quietly sad.

“Oh… yeah he left last night. He didn’t tell you?” Mingfei’s eyes widened slightly.

Crestfallen, Tigre shook his head. 

“Ah… Senior Brother is always like this. He comes and goes without a word and doesn’t understand how that might affect people. He thought a lot of you. Anyway, We can talk later, don’t take it so hard, okay?” He gave Tigre an awkward pat on the shoulder.

The sisters were rendered speechless. Lu Mingfei walked away to the Senior Student’s table where he sat down, surrounded by men in suits as he was served by three separate waiters. It seemed like he was in the lap of luxury, the King of Cassell. Yet, looking at him, Tigre couldn’t help but think that Lu Mingfei was very lonely. He didn’t really talk to the people next to him, just lowered his head and ate like a horse in a stable.

A hand suddenly slammed into his view. “Hey, I’m talking here.”

“Charles Xavier!” Tigre exclaimed.

The boy with dark hair and eyes who challenged him before apparently had been trying to get his attention when he was looking at Lu Mingfei.

“My name’s not ‘Charles Xavier’ I was messing with you!” He wrinkled his nose and glared his eyes down at him. “You know Lu Mingfei? How the hell?”

“I… I met him yesterday after the test. There was a little party at Chu Zihang’s house.” Tigre answered honestly with an owlish expression.

‘Charles Xavier’ massaged the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut like he suddenly had a massive headache. “You were at… Chu Zihang’s party?”

Tigre flinched. “Uh… Yeah… Sorry, if I knew you wanted to go I would have invited you…”

Celeste and her two sisters all lifted their coffee cups in unison and sipped, watching this scene with great pleasure.

‘Charles’ cleared his throat. “Well then… allow me to reintroduce myself. I’m Robert Musonda, of the Musonda copper mining company in Zambia. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh… nice to meet you too.” Tigre accepted the offered hand.

“Have you decided which club you were going to join? I personally have not. I was waiting to see how things were. With all the elites gone, things could go either way. The Student Union could fall, or Lionheart could resurge.”

“I haven’t… really thought of clubs. I…” Tigre looked to Ruby for help. She’d been very helpful so far.

“Lionheart and Student Union were huge rivals before. I think people are expecting that to continue but it doesn’t have to. It depends on leadership. I think Lionheart will really push hard to regain some ground after losing so much to Student Union.” She nodded to him.

Robert Musonda clasped his hands behind his back. “In fact, leadership itself is up for grabs at Lionheart. A lot of freshmen are thinking of going to see if they can snatch the spot. With you being good friends with Mingfei and Chu Zihang, you’d be a shoe in!”

“I wouldn’t call myself good friends… We just met yesterday…”

Robert Musonda leaned forward. “He came over here and greeted you and only you… I call that good friends.” He patted Tigre on the shoulder the same way Lu Mingfei had and dropped his card next to him. “Let’s chat after class.”

Robert sauntered away. His card had a small floral scent but was simple and white with black block lettering of his family business and name along with a phone number and email.

As they were leaving the breakfast hall, Tigre’s tablet computer chimed. When he looked at it, he had a new message in his inbox. “Oh. I got my exam results.”

“Quick check your email!” Celeste exclaimed.

Apparently all the results were posted publicly and at the same time.  Students all stopped what they were doing and were looking at their results, heads bowed over their phones. Some students cheered and pumped their fists. Others gave each other high fives. Some students huddled together, giving consoling pats on the back. They were listed in order by last name and, since Tigre didn’t have a last name, the null entry in the last name field put his name right at the top.

Name: Tigre

Resonance Test result: S

Attached to his email was several pages of materials. Based on his ranking, he was afforded a stipend of money. $100,000! He also had a lot of privileges like first pick of meals and he could call the train to take him to Chicago whenever he wanted.

“Congratulations on your high level of Ranking.” It said. “With these privileges also come responsibilities. You are expected to perform at high level in the college in both class attendance and performance. If you fail to perform, you will be downgraded and your privileges will be revoked.”

He looked up at Ruby, relying on her once again for guidance. “What classes do I have?”

“You have to pick your own classes.” She said, with a trembling voice. “I can’t believe you’re S ranked. That’s insane. Are you half dragon?”

“I don’t know. Maybe?” Tigre shrugged.

Celeste stepped in, pushing Tigre forward. “There’s a link to register for classes. But let’s not do this in the hallway where everyone stares at us.”

She leaned over to him, smiling gently. “So, do you have a roommate yet?”

“Uh… I don’t have a dorm.” He said quietly.

“Then you should stay with us. We’ll help you.” Celeste smiled at him.

“Yeah!” Porsche said, glancing at her Celeste and holding his hand. “We’ll start by registering you for classes and stuff. Do you have anything you need to move?”

“Not… really? Just a few things.” Tigre said nervously as he was herded out of the Dining Hall by the three women.

Ruby clung to his other arm. “Then I’ll help you move!”

“Move? Move where?” 

The triplets turned and looked at him with shining brown eyes. They beamed at him, speaking in unison. “To our dorm silly!”

[museenkuss]

What I find incredibly fascinating is the process of how you find books, or how sometimes books find you.

For example, when I was a teenager (15? Maybe?), I was at the library, looking through the dvds, when I stumbled upon a cover that intrigued me because the film started Audrey Tautou and I adored her. Reading the back, I was incredibly enchanted with the concept and when I saw that the film was based on Boris Vian’s book Froth on the Daydream, I immediately went to look up whether they had the book at the library. They didn’t, so I didn’t take the dvd either, but for years, I kept remembering this particular title — and if I forgot, I could always look up the film after all. Now. The first thing that happened: I saw it at the museum’s bookstore after I’d already started going to university, so a good few years later. It was completely by chance and I still remember kneeling down because it was on the lower shelf and turning it in my hands. I didn’t buy it then, because I didn’t like the edition, but knew now that it still existed. The second thing that happened: I later on looked it up on Am*zon to see if there were older editions that maybe looked prettier. And yes. There was. My best friend from when I was 3 liked to show me a book her mother owned because it had a cartoon couple on the front cover and the same couple on the back, but transformed this time — the woman’s pearls had turned to skulls, that’s the only thing I remember. We looked at it almost every time I was over at her flat. Now imagine my surprise to see that THIS was the book. The very book we used to look at and play with. But still, I didn’t buy it. There was a new translation that went into print with an even uglier cover. My parents gave me the other one, the first edition I’d seen as a Christmas present last year. LAST YEAR. And I read it this spring, in 2021, at 24. This book has been waiting for me since I was a very little girl, and it’s a good thing I waited, too, because I wouldn’t have been able to stomach the story when I first saw that dvd.

And another one? When I was very little (maybe 4?), my parents watched a film and let me watch along with them. Years later, I tried to find the film — I didn’t remember the plot at all, but I did remember that there was a woman who cooked a meal for her sisters and that meal involved rose petals. I remember the look at feel of those roses, their scent almost wafting through that glimmering 00s screen, and I remember the pleasure the sister felt while eating. She started to smell of roses and while taking a shower in some outdoor hut, she was abducted by a group of men who were bewitched by that scent, her naked body pressed against one of them, on a galloping horse. (Yes, it was a very sensual scene, that’s probably why I remembered it. My parents let me watch a lot when I was little, they only kept me from violent films). Either way, I found out by googling that scene that the film was an adaption of Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel. I filed that knowledge away and about a year later, I stumbled upon that very book in an international bookstore. The store was a little uncomfortable, neon lights and every book wrapped in plastic so you couldn’t page through it, and I didn’t buy the book there. I now knew it existed, I knew where it was, and I had already bought many books that day. In fact, I ended up buying it about another year later, when I found it on a trip to London. By chance, when we decided to go to the Waterstones close to the National Gallery. Routinely, I’d check the shelves of english-speaking sections (there was no German translation of the book available), and voilà, there it was. The international bookstore has since closed, but the book itself still has that flickering neon light and the scent of carpet floors pressed behind the cover, just like it carries the feeling of museum-tired feet and the scent of rain in my hair. It’s been waiting for a long time, too, but I’ve decided I’m ready now.

[theladyofdeath]

Rags & Riches {1}

Summary: An A Court of Thorns and Roses Fanfiction. 19th century AU.Based on the prompt sent in by @cat5313​All characters belong to SJM, I am just a fan with a plot.

Warning: Mature content strung throughout.

A/N: Shoutout to @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty​ for helping me with chapter 1! I hope you all enjoy. Let me know what you think & comment if you wanna be tagged. :)

Elain had always loved the rain.

It was necessary for the life cycle of her precious flowers. They had to brave the storm to embrace their beauty. She watched the thick droplets pour down, hitting the glass of the window with a soft pitter-patter.

“Miss Elain?”

Elain jumped, peering over her shoulder from where she sat near the windowpane in the library. Nesta was across the room, sitting by the fireplace with her nose in a book, as she usually was. She wasn’t sure where Feyre had gone. Their younger sister had claimed to go to bed just after supper, but they both knew she wasn’t in her bedchamber. 

Elain rose as Alis approached.

“Your father wishes to see you in his study,” she said.

Elain nodded her head in thanks before Alis curtsied and scurried away. 

She stood frozen, watching her leave. 

Nesta, eyes still on the pages before her, asked, “Well? Are you going?”

Elain nodded, unable to move. 

She knew what was coming and she surely wasn’t ready for it. Of course, it was time. It was her duty. She was of age and of a noble household.

Nesta said nothing more, but Elain knew her older sister’s eyes were now on her. 

Elain nodded, once more, and hurried out of the library and down the hall to her father’s study. He was seated behind his large mahogany desk, writing a letter by the candlelight. Elain stepped inside and gave a gentle knock against the doorframe.

He looked up and blinked a few times before smiling. “Ah. Darling, come in, please.”

Elain did as she was told, sitting across from him in one of his guest chairs.

“It’s late,” was all she said. “I was planning on going to bed soon.”

Lord Archeron smiled. “Don’t worry, I won’t be long. I only wanted to say that there is a man that wishes to court you. He has written, saying that he saw you at the Hale’s ball last month and thought you were of the utmost beauty. He will join us here, on Friday, to introduce himself.”

Elain was not surprised. She cleared her throat before asking, “And may I ask his name?”

“Lucien Vanserra,” Lord Archeron replied. “The Vanserra’s are well known for their business. Perhaps you’ve heard of his father, Beron.”

Elain had. She had heard many things about Beron Vanserra, none of them pleasant. 

He must have seen the change in her features, because he then said, “Do not worry, my dear. Lucien is a great man with a great reputation. He will be a good match for you.”

Elain nodded, nibbling on her lip - a habit in which her mother would have instantly chastised, if she were still alive. 

“That’s all, dear,” Lord Archeron said, dipping his quill back into his ink. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, father,” Elain said, rising to her feet, although it was hardly more than a whisper. Once she turned, she soon halted, finding who stood just inside the doorway. She hadn’t even heard him come in. He must’ve heard every word.

Elain’s heart sank even further into the pit of her stomach. 

“Ah, Azriel, come in,” Lord Archeron said from behind Elain. 

“Sorry to interrupt, my Lord,” Azriel said, voice low as he approached his Lord’s desk. “A letter arrived for you.”

Azriel handed her father a sealed envelope with his white-gloved hand before bowing to him, then to Elain, and excusing himself. 

Elain watched him walk away before she collected herself. “Goodnight, father,” she said, once more, before excusing herself.

Lord Archeron mumbled a goodnight after she had walked out of the door. 

The house was quiet as Elain made her way down the hallway. She passed the library, where Nesta was still sitting by the fire with her novel, and toward the proper sitting room that remained lifeless.

Since her mother’s passing, their house seemed smaller. It was one thing when they had guests over, but when they didn’t, it was only the four of them. Her father spent most of his time in his study, Nesta spent most of hers in the library, and no one truly knew what Feyre spent her time doing.

Elain couldn’t scold her younger sister, though. She had a secret of her own.

He was standing in the corner of the room, close to a floor-length window covered in heavy gold-trimmed curtains. She approached him, quietly, and when she stood within a breaths-width, she reached up to place her palm gently against his smooth cheek.

He melted into her touch, eyes closing.

Neither of them said a word. 

There was not much to say.

They knew their love affair couldn’t last, if it could even be called that. It had been mild flirtations, sneaking innocent kisses, and attempting to meet one another’s eyes from across the room for nearly a year.

But she was crazy about him, although no one would ever, could ever, know. 

And now she was of the age in which she would have to be married.

To a rich man, of course. Anyone else would be considered shameful.

“I have to go,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her brow. “Alis is expecting me downstairs.”

Elain nodded, attempting a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he replied. “Goodnight, Elain.”

“Goodnight, Azriel,” she said, in return.

He slipped away, out of her embrace and through the doorway before she could form another thought. 

She didn’t watch him go.

Every time he left, it hurt too much.

For every time he walked away, it could be the last time.

~~~~~~

Nesta hated brushing her own hair.

Her mother brushed it for her when she was young, then her lady’s maid before they had to let the ladies’ maids go after their father’s gambling addiction had caused them to reevaluate their household budget.

But as her hair grew long, as she was able to braid into more beautiful and elegant twists and knots, it’s constant upkeep frustrated her to no limits.

After she finally was able to pull the brush through with no snags or tangles, she left it to hang loose around her shoulders and opened her balcony doors, letting the cool night air sweep in. The rain had recently subsided, but the scent lingered. She stepped out, breathing in the smell of their manor house, though her room, unfortunately, was above the stables.

It wasn’t overwhelming, thanks to the mild summer they were having, but it still was a smell she had taken years to become accustomed to. She looked out into the dark expanse of their land, trying to find a bit of movement she wasn’t sure if she should be expecting.

There was a lantern still lit in the stables and Nesta could see a form of a shadow moving against the wall, but she paid the stable boy no mind. He often worked late hours, and it wasn’t uncommon for his lantern to be lit well after Nesta fell asleep.

She heard the rustling of leaves and twigs and turned to the south side of the manor, seeing him emerge from a small garden Elain had planted by the fountains.

Her stomach both dropped and tightened in anticipation. Anticipation of the pleasure she would soon be feeling, but also of the pain. There was almost certainly always a little bit of pain. But after she endured the pain, she got to bask in the numbness, relish in the glorious in between of sleep and consciousness.

Tomas Mandray had been claiming for almost two years that at the next ball he attended, he’d make the proclamation for her hand. Nesta wasn’t sure if she was frustrated by the fact that he’d been dragging his feet or relieved. But as he climbed the lattice beneath her window, crushing Elain’s gorgeous roses she’d painstakingly tended to, she had to wonder if his delay was a curse or if it were secretly a blessing.

Nesta wasn’t even sure if she wanted to be married, she had never met anyone who made her excited at the thought. The idea of spending the rest of your life with the same man, a man who thought you were nothing more than a pretty face or an arm ornament…

No, Nesta wasn’t sure about marriage, but it was expected of her. 

Although, everyone knew Elain would be the one to marry first. She was charming and beautiful, kind and welcoming...and had always wanted to be a wife.

Nesta loved her sisters, but they were all so different she had no idea how they had been born to the same set of parents. 

Tomas crept along the shadows of the garden until he reached the side of the house. He kept along it until he reached the spot he was able to climb. She watched as he climbed, watched to make sure no one was around to witness. The stable boy didn’t seem to notice, thankfully. 

He hopped down onto her balcony with a thud before examining Nesta in her nightdress. She didn’t back down from his hungry gaze. 

~~~~~~

Cassian was exhausted.

He had been working as a stable boy for a week, but it felt like much longer. He liked it, though. He liked being outside, working with the horses. They were beautiful creatures. He admired them. 

“Goodnight, Marigold,” he said, locking up the mare’s gate. “I’ll see you tomorrow, beautiful.”

The horse huffed in reply, making Cassian chuckle. “Yeah, I love you, too.”

He grabbed his lantern from where it hung and walked out of the stable for the night. The night was foggy, the air brisk. Cassian loved this weather. He loved it even more at night. 

As he was about to head back around to the servant’s entrance, Cassian halted. He could see directly into Lady Nesta’s bedchamber, and she wasn’t alone.

A man, probably around Cassian’s age, had his hands wandering up her thighs, and his mouth pressed roughly against hers. Cassian wasn’t familiar with living the noble life, but he was pretty sure she was doing it wrong. 

He didn’t realize he was staring until a set of gray-blue eyes met his own.

Cassian hurried away, hoping she didn’t catch him, but knowing full well that she did. 

~~~~~~

Feyre felt invincible with a handful of cards. Especially as she sat at a table full of men.

Women shouldn’t gamble. They claimed it was because it was “unladylike”, but Feyre knew it was because women were smarter than men. If women began to gamble, men would be out of the sport.

Which is why she always wore trousers and a loose tunic when she visited the gambling den, why she always wore a cap, with her hair tied back.

She mostly observed, not speaking, not playing her hand. Every once in a while, she’d make a play, only betting when she knew she’d win. Only upping the pot by a little at a time, so she could stay under the radar.

She’d just won a hand, taking the pot of over $600, and began scraping it into her pouch. She nodded to the rest of the men at her table and slunk back into the darkness, ready to disappear into the night. She slipped out the side door, as she always did, and paused, weighing the heft of her bag on her hip.

She had done well.

She suddenly wished she had someone to brag to.

As she took a step toward the street, the door swung open behind her and a tall brute came stumbling out.

His green eyes grazed over her, a wicked smile contorting his lips.

“You are no man,” he said in way of greeting, his voice deep and slurred and coated with rum.

Feyre turned her back to him, taking another step toward the street. She didn’t want to run, didn’t want to seem panicked, but there was one thing she knew - drunk men who followed ladies into allies were not to be trusted.

“Nor are you,” she said, her chin lifted high. “If you’ll excuse me.”

As soon as she began to move, his hand grasped hers, pulling her back.

Feyre was strong, intelligent. But, she was no match for a man twice her size and built with pure muscle.

He held her close to him, his head bent down, lips close to her neck. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her skin.

“Let me go,” she demanded, hoping her voice sounded as intimidating as she wanted it to.

“But I haven’t had my fun yet,” he whispered, pushing her up against the brick wall of the gambling den. She could hear the ruckus from inside, could hear the laughter of those winning and the regret of those who have lost.

Feyre tried to move, tried to lift her knee to his balls, but couldn’t move a muscle as his giant body pinned hers into stillness. 

“You’re quite lovely,” he slurred, lips soft on her neck. “Even in men’s clothing.”

Feyre squeezed her eyes closed. She prayed to whoever was listening that he’d drop dead before his hands could explore any further. 

“I promise this will all be worth your while,” he said, his tongue grazing her neck.

“Is this how you get all your women?”

Feyre’s eyes shot open as her attacker released his grip. Those green eyes were infuriated as they shot toward the end of the alley. 

The newcomer wore a fine suit. His dark hair was swept back, his lavender eyes bright in the shadows of the lanterns. 

“I have to admit, Tamlin,” he began, his hands shoved into his pockets as he meandered closer to the pair. “Your standards in women seemed to have lowered.”

He was close enough now that when Feyre spat, it landed directly on his expensive shoes.

He blinked, lifting his brows, humored. “He’s the one that tries to take a bite of you and I’m the one you spit on?”

“Get out, Rhysand,” her attacker, Tamlin, hissed. “This do-doesn’t concern you.”

“I’m sure your father will be pleased to find you’ve spent your night out drinking and whoring around,” Rhysand grinned, “again. Now, if you’ll move, I’ll be escorting this lovely woman, with an interesting fashion sense, home.”

As he reached his hand toward her, Feyre took a step back toward the door. “I can take care of myself. Thanks.” 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Tamlin scowled, then looked to Rhysand. “You, however-”

Rhysand’s fist made contact with Tamlin’s jaw, instantly knocking him down, unconscious. 

“I hate that guy,” he muttered, bright eyes reconnecting with Feyre’s own. “Now, where were we?”

“I was going home,” Feyre said, brushing past him. 

“You know, it’s not safe for a woman out here, alone, at night,” Rhysand crooned, following her, hands back into his pockets. 

“Ah,” Feyre sighed, “you’ve cracked the code of why I’m dressed as a man.”

Rhysand snorted. “More like a boy.”

Feyre spun around as she reached the street. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

Rhysand took a moment to think about it. “No… No, not really.” 

With a roll of her eyes, Feyre continued on, back toward the way of her home. 

“I believe a ‘thank you’ is in order,” Rhysand said, jogging until he was in front of her, walking backward so that he could watch her reaction.

“Thank you? For what?”

“For saving you from that prick,” he said, grinning. “Oh, sorry, your clothing made me forget I was talking to a woman. How dare I use such language?”

“You talk too much,” Feyre scowled. 

His grin widened. “Come on. Let me take you home. Live nearby?”

Feyre had to admit the thought was tempting. She was exhausted. “No.”

“All the more reason for me to take you home,” he said, suddenly coming to a halt next to a horse. He patted the brown mare’s side. “Come on.”

“You wear a suit that fine to ride a horse into town?” Feyre asked, lifting a brow.

“I’m not so self-entitled that I would ask my driver to stay awake for half the night to take me into town when I’m perfectly capable of riding my horse,” he said, hauling himself up onto the saddle. “Now, are you going to walk or join me?”

Feyre hesitated, which only seemed to please him. 

“That’s what I thought.” He held out his hand. “Come on. I promise I won’t bite.”

The walk back to the manor was long and all Feyre longed for was to quickly be back home in her bed before the servants woke up for their early morning chores.

She sighed, taking his hand. He helped her onto the horse, and when the mare slowly began to walk, he grinned as her arms went flying around his waist. 

“I don’t know where I’m taking you,” he said.

“Archeron Manor,” she replied.

“Whoaaa,” he said, bringing his horse to a halt. “You’re a Lady? One of Lord Isaac’s daughters?”

“Feyre,” was all she said.

He kicked the horse in her sides, moving once more. 

He cursed under his breath. “What the hell are you doing out here? Gambling? Are you insane?”

Feyre lifted a brow. “I can’t give you all my secrets, can I? We’ve only just met and I don’t trust you for a second.”

A soft laugh shook his sturdy frame. “Fair enough. Don’t worry. I’ll ask again on Friday.”

“Friday?”

“Isn’t your family hosting a ball on Friday? I was invited.” Feyre’s mind went blank at his words, as she tried to quickly run through the guest list she’d glanced at weeks ago, when the invitations were going out. All the names she’d recognized were insignificant men she’d known for years and the ones she didn’t were mostly older lords from surrounding lands.

This man, who exuded grace and danger in such a simple gesture as slipping his hand into his pocket, there was no way he was some lowly lord from her territory.

He confirmed exactly that as he glanced at her over his shoulder, lavender eyes locking with hers, and said, “I’m Lord of Velaris, but you, Feyre, darling, can call me Rhysand.”

_________________________________________________

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