#this is the moment John began wondering exactly what sort of family he was marrying into

[rainbow-sunshine-unicorn]

I’ve just realised that John and Francesca were standing directly across the room from Kate and Anthony during Colin’s speech and that’s just such perfect comedy to me.

Because, imagine you are John Stirling and you meet your betrothed’s big brother, who’s an important Viscount, the Lord Bridgerton and he intimidates the living shit out of you. In fact, you find him so scary that you mess up your words.

Then cut to exactly one scene later, and you’re standing across the room from that very same man, and this is your view the entire time: the scary, intimidating Viscount, wrapped around his wife, smiling like a goof and acting like a lovesick pile of mush

Imagine the whiplash, the shock, the surprise. I just know poor John was flabbergasted.

[meowdymista]

vi. ditmas & devil’s backbone

Part of the Devil’s Backbone project - Masterlist - redrafted on ao3

Notes: as I mentioned, this whole project began because I didn’t like how unhealthy Abigail and John’s relationship is in RDR2. There is a second unhealthy relationship I feel isn’t dealt with in game... I like slapping people in the face with the truth and this bitch really needed a wake up call

BTW, I should mention that whilst I do not expect any takers, if there is something else you want to see in this project, I’m open to requests :)

**

There’s whispering behind the door. Arthur makes a harsh remark-

“He’s not my son.” More murmuring. “It don’t matter - he ain’t mine.

“Naw, you had your chance, Mary. Quit it - you were married, you could’ve had children. Don’t pretend like you didn’t for my sake.” A pause. “Why? ‘Cause the way you left me was that it was the end. Either you’re lyin’ right now or you were playin’ me.” Another silence. “You can’t honestly think I waited. I’ve had a son, Mary. Isaac was born and buried whilst you was off pretendin’ I didn’t exist. No, o’course I didn’t love her the way I loved you, but you didn’t exactly give me a choice-

“You have to be kiddin’ me right now - you were married. You went and married someone else - what did you think I was gonna do? Wait? For what?

“He ain’t my son!” he bellows. “Even if he was, you think I’m gonna take him from his mother? Where’ve you been all this time? I can’t believe you’re askin’ me this.

“Well, you was wrong.” A silence spreads, thick and unforgiving. “Even if Jack were mine, Abigail’s alive and well - you ain’t gonna be his mother. You can’t come in and cherry pick the boy because it suits whatever damn fancy has taken you."

A sob breaks through, but Arthur is firm. “I ain’t goin’ to be that man, Mary. I’ve spent my life loving you, but if you think I’ll take a boy from his mother for us, then we ain’t ever going to work. He had a father, an’ he was as good for him as we are for each other. I ain’t shiftin’.”

“If you cared-!”

“If you gave a damn, we wouldn’t be in this mess! I could understand if you had been there for him, but you were elsewhere when this boy was born. I ain’t even entertainin’ the idea, Mary. I ain’t.” 

“You would give us up?”

“With you bein’ so unreasonable?" He heaves a heavy sigh. "This ranch belongs to Abigail and Jack. Jack belongs to Abigail. You wanted us to run, but now we don’t gotta - say the word and we can walk outta here. I ain’t a fool - I know the law’s gonna come for me one day, but if it’s tomorrow or ten years from now, I’m willin’ to give you everything to my dyin’ day. I will give you every last breath in my body, but I won’t uproot their lives for you. They’ve been through too much.”

She mumbles something about wanting to be a mother.

“Is that it? There’s kids out there tha’ need a home still - orphans and the like. We can take one in-”

She must roll her eyes because his tone lowers, teetering dangerously.

“You’re forgettin’ I was one of ‘em. If it weren’t for Dutch and Hosea-” The roar rips through the thin walls. “They were better to me than my own father! They would have taken you in as well, despite your spoiled attitude but of course Daddy didn’t like me-”

“Daddy is dead!”

“And so is Hosea!” There’s a thump. “So is my mother and father, but you don’t see me cryin’ about it! Naw, you come in here and want to make another boy an orphan, take him from his mother so you can play house!”

“I want a family for us, Arthur!”

“Then why did you wait ‘til you promised your hand to another man?” A pause. “Yeah, I know about it. I knew ‘bout your daddy too. I’ve made enough excuses for you over the years, Mary Gillis, but I still had faith.” A bitter scoff. “I’m a fool when it comes to faith. I put it in all the wrong places, and when it comes down to it, it’s worthless. Ain’t worth a penny.”

“Arthur, you need to rest. You’re getting yourself all worked up over nothing-”

“Ain’t nothin’, Mary.” They must be looking each other in the eye, speaking silently. “I spent years tryin’ to get where I am, and I’m still not good enough. I could be the king of England and you would find fault in me. I give up.”

“Arthur-!”

“I give up, Mary. I- I give up.” The bed creaks as he lowers his weight, his face burying itself into his hands. “I hate how much I loved you. I’m still the man you met all them years ago and… I can’t pretend I’m somethin’ I’m not. Not anymore. If you really loved me, you wouldn’t have so many excuses up your sleeve."

"Arthur-"

"You were the only one. You were the only one for so long and I’ve lost so much waitin’. I’m startin’ to wonder if you would ever looked twice without money in my pocket.”

“Arthur, please-”

“No, Mary.” His voice is low, barely more than a whisper. "I'm too old. We're too old to keep messin' like this."

"I'll leave him!"

"Naw, you won't." He sniffs loudly. "An' you shouldn't. You've had me for a fool for many a year an'- an' losin' you… losing you weren't even the worst part. Hosea... Isaac… Lenny, Sean, Eliza! Hell, watchin' Dutch lose his head? Tryna pick up the pieces after we lost Marston? All of tha' still hurts a lot more than you choosing your daddy over me. It hurt more then and it hurts more now!"

"Arthur, please! Don't say what you can't take back!"

"Why not? After everything you put me through, why is me tellin' you the truth of the situation too much?"

"Because I know you don't mean it!"

"Oh, but I do mean it, Mrs Linton. I do." A prolonged silence is broken only by the woman's sobs. She must try to move closer because Arthur breathes out heavily. "Naw, that ain't a good idea. I… I'll fetch Ms Roberts. She can help you clean up an'- an' get ready for your journey."

Abigail barely scrambles away from the doorway in time before it is wrenched open, a sobbing Mary Linton reaching for him. "Arthur!"

"Mary! I can't keep doing this! I can't!" The door closed again, muddling the sound. Abigail creeps forward, peeking through the gap of the door.

He is kneeling with her on the floor, cradling her face in his hands as her fingers brush his leg.

"I knew the moment I laid eyes on you that your image was going to be burned on the inside of my eyelids. I've thought about you every minute of every day since that moment, and I know it ain't gonna just go away. But we-" He lifts her hand and holds it against his chest, pressing her palm against his ribs to feel his heart. "We ain't gonna make it. We was never gonna make it."

"Arthur-!"

"It doesn't matter whether I got dragged to Guarma. We was over years ago. I… I can't trust you to love me the way you say you will after what happened with your daddy. I can't."

"But Daddy-!"

"I know, Mary. I know, but my life here with Abigail and Jack? That's what's keepin' me goin' now. Every time I hold you I can feel myself gettin' angry at all the lost time, an' it ain't worth it no more. You will always mean everything to me but what we had is in the past now. I can't keep playing this game. I won't."

*

He seems surprised to find her so nearby and clears his throat, obviously uncomfortable at the thought of being overheard. "Would you mind helping Mrs Linton? She's going to be leaving us tomorrow an' well…"

He trails off with a sigh. His bloodshot eyes are all the more blue as he stares into the embers of the fireplace.

"Of course, Arthur." She touches her fingertips to his arm in condolence and is surprised when he clasps her hand, eyes still staring blankly.

"I'm gonna go for a ride with Gwyn. Think you'll be alrigh'?"

Her breath catches as he meets her gaze. "Of course. Take as long as you need."

He nods, patting her hand as he turns his head back to the fading light of the logs. Abigail stands up straighter and retraces his steps into Jack's bedroom.

The usually so gracious woman is crumpled on the floor sobbing into the mattress. As Abigail steps forward to help her up, the door slams shut, causing her to flinch and sob all the harder.

"C'mon now, let's get you sorted."

She resists Abigail's tug, wiping her streaming face over the back of her hands. "I don't understand what's gotten into him. He promised me…! Whenever you call, I come - what's changed?"

She fights the urge to roll her eyes. "Does he need to have changed? You're moving onto your second husband-"

"It didn't matter with Barry!"

She sighs sharply, folding her arms unable to bite her tongue. "You have no idea the shit we have been through to get here." Mary tries to interject, but the floodgates have been opened. "We have been through literal shit since you last showed your face. Right now, he is all me and my little boy have left! We lost his father, we lost Dutch and Hosea, and we have lost all of our family - what you see here on this ranch is all that's left of that life." She picks up a perfectly folded blouse and throws it at the open travel bag across the room. "He is a good man, and he has been in love with you as long as I can remember. I couldn't understand why everyone else hated you when you made him so happy, but I guess you opened my eyes on that now."

She continues to throw items at the bag, getting more agitated as she goes. "I gave you as good a welcome I could, but Arthur was right about just how spoiled you are. You ain't ever had to work a day in your life! You ain't had to go hungry so your boy could have clothes that fit! You ain't ever seen the time and energy Arthur puts in to make sure everybody else is alright ‘cause you ain't ever stayed long enough to see it with your own eyes. You're a fool for letting a good man like him go!"

"What would you know?" retorts Mary, still picturesque with mascara running down her cheeks. "What would you know about any of this?"

"Because he's been right in front of me too!" Abigail huffs, pushing loose tendrils out of her face. "I loved Jack's father, I loved him as much as you love Arthur, but he was either useless or he didn't care enough to pretend to give a damn. We argued worse than you two, but I loved him and it's only now that he's gone that I- I can be myself. I can just be a mother. I ain't fightin' no more, ain't tellin' myself all these 'if only's. I've seen Arthur do the same right up until you showed up at the gate. Since then he's been miserable an' I'm personally peggin' it on you."

She gets to her feet, pulling a skirt from Abigail’s hand. “Are you sweet on him?”

A laugh slips out before Abigail can swallow it, and it’s greeted with Mary’s palm flat against her cheek.

Abigail’s head snaps around with the force, and catches a glimpse of Jack’s eyes in the crack of the door.

“You’re a strong woman, Abigail Roberts.” The smoke furls over his lips, the blue steel of his gaze staring out over the horizon. “You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for an’... well, if you won’t do it for Marston, do it for Jack. You’re his mother an’ the one constant in his life - I like to think you would give me the boot if you thought it was best for you both.”

Mary steps forward, squaring her shoulders. “What have you been telling him?” she yells between sobs.

“I aren’t him, I ain’t her, or any of your stooges! You don’t owe me nothing - I don’t owe you nothing! Nothing! I’ll spit in your eye - I did! I told them! Yeah, I told ‘em, an’ I’d tell ‘em again!”

“What have you done to make him hate me?”

“Now I’ve got God’s ear! Mr Milton and Mr Ross, about the bank robbery. An’ I wanted them to kill you! Oh you ain’t so big now are yer?” Arthur murmurs in Dutch’s ear, his hand over his, pushing the gun to the ground as she laughs manically into every stunned face that’s gathered around to watch.

“Not so big now! Are we, your majesty?”

Abigail feels the gunshot through her gut even though there is no physical wound to be seen. She shakes her head, her anger melting into the air the same way her blood had soaked the hollow. “You wouldn’t be here if he hated you, Mary.”

“Arthur and I have always had an understanding and now you’re in the picture-!”

“I’ve always been in the picture. We’ve known each other since I was eighteen years old and every time I told him how nice I thought you were, he would brush it off sayin’ you had better ideas than him.” Abigail shakes her head, trying to forget how brutal he could be when it came to himself. “I don’t know what ideas they was, but he deserves better than that. If he ain’t the best idea you’ve ever had, then you don’t deserve him. I don’t know anyone who deserves him, but I know I won’t have a grown woman throwing a tantrum in my house because it took her twenty five years to realise her mistake.

“I will leave you to pack your things, and I will be civil. Hell, I will even throw in a good word for you, but if you ever darken this doorstep with the intention to harm anybody under this roof, I will kill you myself - Morgan or no Morgan. Now get outta my house.”

*

A low whistle comes from the kitchen table. “You sure told her, Miss Roberts.”

“An’ where was you?” She snatches the bowl from in front of Uncle and tips the contents back in the pot, ignoring his protests. “You was sittin’ on your ass, letting everyone else do the work as always.”

“Come now, Abigail, I’ve got-”

“To go find Arthur and make sure he’s alright!” She throws him his hat from the table, her hands on her hips as she glares.

“I’d love to, but it’s the lumbago…”

“I’ll go, Ma!”

“You will do no such thing, Jack Marston. Go prepare the cart for Mrs Linton tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, Ma…”

She turns to Uncle, her gaze stern. “Just go make sure he hasn’t been jumped by them Skinners up near Tall Trees.”

“Arthur’s more than capable.”

“I don’t care! Go find him!”

“You women and your hormones.” Uncle grunts, holding his back as he gets to his feet slowly. “Y’know I thought I’d miss your monthly nagging stretch, so far it’s like you’ve crammed all nine in the past coupl’o months - here’s to it getting better!”

Abigail’s face flushes. “What do you mean?”

He waves his hand dismissively. “You know what I mean. I ain’t stupid. Jack’s too young, and Arthur looks the other way, but back in the day ol’ Uncle needed to be able to tell who was available-”

“Don’t be dumb, Uncle.” Abigail swallows the upcoming nausea, ignoring the ringing in her ears. “Go find him before I feed you to the Skinners myself!”

“Alrigh’, I’m goin’, I’m goin’ - your secret's safe with me.” Chuckling, he waddles away, leaving Abigail to sink into the chair and bury her face into the darkness of her arms.

A creak of the floorboards forces her to lift her head, her anger flaring at the man that dares disobey but it melts when her gaze fixes on Mary.

"Is that why?" she hiccups. "Why he's choosing you and your boy?"

Abigail breathes out slowly, choosing her words carefully. "No, Mrs Linton. He- I haven't told him yet."

Her large eyes swell with heartache. "Is it his?"

The hesitation sends her staggering outside.

"Mrs Linton! Mary!" Abigail hurries after her but outside she is only greeted by a confused adolescent and an amused Uncle.

"What the hell did you tell her?" Uncle chortles.

Jack is flabbergasted. "She just jumped on a horse an' took off! I thought we was taking her in the cart?"

"Which way did she go?"

"North." His hands wring themselves. "Ma, d'you think she knows abou' the Skinners? She was headed straight there."

Abigail swears and slaps Uncle on the arm. "What are you waiting for?" she cries. "Get after her!"

"I thought you wanted me to go look for Arthur?"

"He can look after himself! She can't round up the chickens in the pen! Go get her!" 

The horse whinnies and gallops out the gate. For the second time in as many minutes, Abigail sank down on the porch and began to thud her head against the post.

"What happened?" Jack's arm is hesitant as it wraps around her shoulder, but it helps to ground her.

"Nothing, son. Can you run a quick perimeter? If you see Uncle Arthur, tell him about Mary. Fightin' or no, losin' her won't do any of us good."

He hesitates, but as the tears spill over, he stiffens and mounts his horse obediently. Abigail sags.

[darlingsdevil]

The Ballads of Rebirth (Arthur Morgan x Reader)

Chapter 15: Full Circle

Summary: The big day. All rejoice!

Masterlist

Tag list: @rollyjogerjones

I still can’t add a read more tab on mobile.. sorry about that :/

A/N: Sorry for my long hiatus, not been super motivated lately so I made this chapter extra long for you guys! Longer than any thing I’ve written before (!!).I promise I sort have been doing productive things.. I guess. Listening to music (Hozier, Lord Huron, Gregory Alan Isakov and the Oh Hello’s are what got this chapter done), playing fallout 76 (I know), working, schoolwork, planning other fics (I have a big announcement coming up!!!)

IMPORTANT PLEASE READ: I wanted to clear some things up in terms of plot hole. My dumbass mistakenly has said that Reader has been in the gang for 15 years, not true - it’s been around 10, but a little less than John (like 3 ish months after him). I have also previously said that John and Reader joined the gang together, again, not true but I already fixed it. Reader joined the gang after John after Arthur saved her from the gang who kidnapped her. Hope this wasn’t too confusing.

As for the ending... yeah.. next chapter, and then epilogue. Not sure that many of you will stay around for the AU - which will be posted SEPARATE, after you read the actual ending >:3c Anyways, here we go.

This is all supposed to be italicized.. it’s italicized on wattpad and ao3, just tumblr decided to be a bitch and not transfer it that way and I’m too lazy to change each paragraph to italics.. so let’s just pretend it is.

•••

Shady Belle was an interesting place for a wedding, it seemed. You had been ushered away from Arthur in the morning, and carted away to Saint Denis with the rest of the women, claiming Shady Belle would be too chaotic to get ready in, which really meant they didn’t want you to get ready with the men around. They had raided your room when the sun rose, waking Arthur too. You were barely able to kiss him goodbye, they carted you out of the room that fast. You wanted to lie next to him all morning, enveloped in his warmth, but your friends had different plans.

Saint Denis was such a difference compared to Chicago, the city you grew up in. You were an orphan living in the cold streets, just barely getting by. You worked in a textile factory for as long as you could remember. You lived in a cheap, one bedroom apartment, before that you simply slept in alleyways with other orphans, huddling by fires. You were uneducated, poor, and always hungry. A man kidnapped you on your way home from work one late evening, and the next thing you knew you were in a cabin in the desert, surrounded by men with guns and a nasty look on their face. Arthur was your savior, Dutch was your teacher, John was your brother, Abigail was your sister, Hosea was your father and the Van der Linde gang was your family.

But that was a long time now. Your wedding was merely hours away.

Arthur was nervous about the whole thing, he didn’t want to make a big deal out of the wedding but Dutch decided otherwise. Dutch thought a wedding was exactly what the entire gang needed, to boost everyone’s morals he had told you. You were beyond nervous for your big day, but with Arthur by your side, the impossible became possible.

Miss Grimshaw was the head of it all, the mastermind of the party. She set everything on a strict schedule, where everyone needed to be and when. She was a godsend during this time, otherwise the wedding would no doubt end up in a shed with you wearing a white sheet as a wedding dress.

Mary Beth was absolutely bouncing off the walls at the idea of a wedding, she thought it was incredibly romantic — two outlaws falling in love. It was something out of those novels she adores.

Saint Denis was hot, humid, and made you feel sticky with sweat. It didn’t help you would be wearing a heavy dress later that day either, but you didn’t mind. Nothing could or would bring you down today.

The first stop to your magical day was the salon. You got your hair trimmed and styled, as well as some makeup, keeping it simple. A few of the other women got their hair done as well. They all looked beautiful. The women could not hide their excitement for you, even a few patrons of the salon came up and congratulated you. Their talk seemingly echoed off the walls.

Abigail put the hair clip in your styled hair, it was a beautiful piece, elegant and dazzling. It was gold with a large pearl at the top and smaller jewels surrounding it. It matched your locket perfectly. Arthur had bought the hair clip for you a few days before.

When you were ready to leave the salon, it was time for the dress store, where you had left the dress. You didn’t want Arthur to see it, and it would no doubt get soiled at Shady Belle. Some of the other women had bought new dresses for the special occasion as well.

You picked it up from the counter, and walked over to the dressing room. All the women sat down on the benches outside of the dressing room, waiting for the big reveal. A few of them had already seen it, as they had gone with you when you picked it out, but none of them had seen you in your full wedding attire.

When you slipped it on over your undergarments you felt like you were floating on a cloud. You were absolutely beautiful. You felt like you could conquer the world in the dress. It was incredibly pretty, it had a loose layered bodice, with lace woven in, long ruffled sleeves and an a-line skirt. You felt your heart strings pull at the mere sight of it, you wondered what Arthur would think of it.

You slowly pushed the door open, hearing your loud heartbeat in your ears. You heard a wave of audible gasps, and then a few squeals, you eyed your white heels nervously, hesitantly looking up at all their faces.

They were all smiling, a few covering their mouths in joy.

“You look so pretty!” Tilly shouted, the rest of the women agreed. You smiled shyly, doing a small twirl.

“I really like the dress,” You said, feeling the cloth sway with you.

“I’d be surprised if Arthur didn’t drop dead the moment he sees you,” Mary Beth said playfully.

“Do you really think so?” You questioned.

“Of course. The man will have a heart attack right there, on the altar,” Molly responded.

You giggled, “I don’t want that to happen!”

“You look so beautiful,” Mary Beth repeated. You nodded her head at her, a smile on your lips.

“I’m so nervous though,” You confessed, sitting down next to Miss Grimshaw. You gripped the edge of the wooden bench, hoping to calm your nerves.

“It’s normal to be nervous, if you aren’t, there’s something wrong.” Sadie was the only married one in the gang, you trusted her advice.

“What if something goes wrong?”

“Nothing will be going wrong today, everyone is going to make sure nothing bad happens,” Abigail reassured you.

“Are you sure? I mean what if Arthur suddenly gets cold feet? What if O’Driscolls raid our camp?”

“If the O’Driscolls try to mess up your day, they’ll have to get through me,” Sadie said rather determinedly, a strange glint in her eye. You would not want to be an O’Driscoll when Sadie Adler was around, or an O’Driscoll in general for that matter.

“Arthur would never turn his back on you. We all see the way he looks at you,” Mary Beth said, a noise of agreement was heard. Mary Beth was right, Arthur would never turn his back on you, you were sure of it.

“Arthur and you do make a handsome couple. I can tell you’re really in love,” Molly responded.

“Thank you, Molly.” You smiled at her.

“We best be getting going, we wouldn’t want her to miss her big day,” Karen reminded everyone. It was getting late after all, there were still some things to do before the ceremony, such as making sure all the men were getting ready instead of getting drunk off their asses. Luckily, most of the preparations were done the night before, but there were still some finishing touches required.

Everyone fretted for you and Arthur to simply sit back and let everyone get your wedding prepared for you. You were wary of coming off as lazy at first, but the gang assured you it was your turn to sit back and relax, after all weddings were supposed to be happy and stress free. So you let everyone pitch in, even Uncle helped.

“Let’s head back then. The bouquet still needs the ribbons in it, we need to make sure dinner is being prepared-” Miss Grimshaw already began barking orders, Karen and Tilly both groaned. Everyone began to get up, gathering all their belongings.

“And you, Miss Morgan, we need you to head inside immediately once we arrive, we can’t have your dress get dirty,” Miss Grimshaw told you as you walked through the streets to get to the wagons.

“And don’t let Arthur see you, it’s bad luck, you know,” Sadie's voice rang out from behind you.

“I know!”

•••

When the rowdy wagons finally came to a stop in front of Shady Belle, you were immediately taken up to Abigail’s room. She shielded you from the eyes of the men, rushing you up the staircase. Abigail and Sadie were not taking the superstitions lightly it seemed. She kicked John out of the room, but Jack was allowed to stay.

You walked over to the window, Abigail sat down on the rickety bed. You slowly pushed the curtains out of the way, looking down to the ground below. Dutch was giving a speech it seemed, Arthur next to him. Your breath was almost stolen from you the moment you laid eyes on him, he was so incredibly handsome. He wasn’t dressed yet, you were glad you hadn’t spotted him in his suit. He was standing proud next to Dutch, Hosea on the other side of him. You watched them for awhile, before letting the curtains fall back into place.

“Are you ever going to have a wedding with John?” You turned to Abigail as she brushed her hair on the bed.

Abigail gave you a look,“Knowing John, probably not.”

You chuckled lightly, “Well, if you ever do, I want to be there.”

“You’ll be the first invited,” She responded. You took the brush from her hands and slowly began getting rid of all the knots in her hair. You shifted behind her, making sure to not crease your dress.

“I still can’t believe you two are getting married. I remember when I caught you two kissing behind that wagon,” She laughed, remembering the awkward moment.

“He was drunk off his ass and I was too. It wasn’t much of a kiss, more like we were eating eachothers face.”

“Yeah but, it was still a kiss, right?”

“I guess it was our first kiss. But our first sweet kiss was the day after when he officially asked me out,” You sighed sweetly.

“John was horrified. I still remember the look on his face when you both arrived back in camp holding hands,” Abigail laughed.

“Hosea always knew. Dutch knew too. We were ogling each other for so long, it was kinda hard not to know.”

“You told me first though, remember?” Abigail said.

“Yeah, I do. And then the next day you went into town and bought a locket for me so I could put Arthur’s photo in it.”

You continued brushing Abigail’s locks. Abigail was the closest thing to a sister you had ever gotten. You stood up for her when the rest of the men saw her as a whore, you showed them she was more than that. You stayed by her side when John left her with a newborn. You had even helped give birth to Jack.

Arthur was closer to John for obvious reasons, but you were still John’s sister too. You were both furious at John when he left. John had betrayed you and Abigail, things were still rocky. Arthur understood what it was like to have a child, it wasn’t easy, but at least he had stayed for Eliza, you had met her twice, she was kind and respectful. Isaac was a smart boy, and looked a lot like Arthur. Arthur was distant for a while after he found out they both died.

“It took you awhile to find the right photo to put in it.”

“It did. I had to get him to take the photo in the first place. I remember I told him it was for a job!” You laughed.

“I’m sure he already suspected it.”

“Probably. I never was a good liar around Arthur,” You said.

“I’m so glad he ended up with you.. Mary and him were a troubled pair.”

“Trust me, I know.” Mary hated you and you hated her. It was the final straw when Mary began talking about you, trying to pull Arthur away from you, putting ideas into his head, and Arthur stopped putting up with it. At the time, you were no rival to Mary, you were more like his annoying little sister. His volatile little sister. You were a lot wilder in those days, no wonder Mary saw you as a threat.

“But honestly, you two are a wonderful couple. Arthur is lucky to have you,” Abigail said sincerely.

“Thank you,” You responded. You were finally done brushing her hair, you set the hairbrush down and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I’m so nervous about this wedding,” You confessed to her, setting your hands in your lap.

“You have nothing to worry about,” Abigail looked at you. You looked up at her. Her eyes shimmered with pride.

“I don’t even know why I’m worried, I just am.”

“Well I’ll be with you the entire time, you’re my sister, (Y/N). And sisters stick together.”

“Thank you, Abi.” You leaned forward and gave her a hug, your eyes welling with tears of happiness.

When she let go, she sat up from the bed, walking over to the window. She looked down at the scene below with watchful eyes.

“John looks like he just woke up. That damned fool,” Abigail muttered, she turned to Jack, who had been playing with a few pieces of yarn and wood. You nearly laughed at the pitiful sight, you would have to buy him some real toys when you went back into the city. Arthur and you had briefly discussed having children, you had practically raised Jack, with Abigail. Arthur decided once things settled down and Dutch’s plan to go to Tahiti or wherever he decided at the time finally worked, then would be the time. You prayed it would be soon, Arthur would make a wonderful father. You wanted to get away from this life so desperately, you were tired of running, you were tired of killing. All you wanted was a family with Arthur.

You had lived the life of running, fighting to stay alive, killing without second thought. All you wanted was peace.

Abigail picked up Jack, letting out a quiet groan. Jack was getting big, you remember when you first held him, those big eyes looking up at you.

“Jack, do you want to go get what you made your Aunt?” Abigail asked Jack. Jack looked at you with big doe eyes, smiling widely.

“Yes, Mama,” He said, Abigail set him down, he walked towards the drawer by the window and reached open to pull it open. He barely even reached it. His small arms grabbed a small object from inside the drawer. Abigail put her hands on her hips, smiling at her boy.

“He made it himself,” Abigail said as Jack set a flower crown in your hands. It was pretty with wildflowers he had picked. He watched you examine it, smiling brightly.

“I think Uncle Arthur will like it,” He told you.

“Oh, Jack! Thank you so much. This is beautiful.” You gave him a grin, putting the flower crown on. It really was a thoughtful gift.

“He picked a flower for Arthur too, so you would be matching,” Abigail revealed.

“Arthur likes flowers, did you know that, Jack? He’d never let any of us know, though,” You laughed, grabbing a bobby pin from a small box next to the brush, you secured the crown to your hair. Arthur was always drawing flowers in that journal, and in his old one he had kept pressed flowers. Arthur was a secret softy, there was no hiding that. Perhaps it’s why you fell for him, his secret side was so tender and loving, and when he realized he loved you too, that’s all you ever saw of him. He was nothing but kind - even when he called himself a bad man, you saw straight through that. Arthur was a kind man, kinder than any man you had ever met.

“I know,” Jack said simply, setting down next to you. He kicked his legs out in a back and forth motion.

“How do you know?” You asked him, pretending to be shocked.

“Uncle Arthur told me he likes flowers.”

Abigail held back a laugh, looking at you. You glanced at her, giving her a look.

“Uncle Arthur told you he liked flowers?” You repeated.

“He told me when we were by the water. I found a flower and gave it to him,” Jack responded.

“I see. What flower did you give him?”

“It was a purple flower. Uncle Arthur drew it in his journal.” Jack got up from the bed and went back to his yarn and wood, plopping down on the hardwood floors.

You chatted aimlessly with Abigail for a few moments as she continued getting ready. You were beyond scared to walk down that aisle and face Arthur. The longer you waited, the worse your nerves got.

People came up and down the steps, but suddenly you realized that it was John and Arthur coming upstairs. You held your breath. Even Abigail stopped to listen. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you heard them speak and walk further and further up the steps.

“John?” Abigail called out.

“What?” He responded, John was close to the door.

“Arthur’s not allowed in,” Abigail replied, she picked up her makeup brush and began applying blush to her face.

“I know. He’s not, he’s going to his room.” You could hear Arthur’s footsteps in the other room.

“Can I come in?” John asked after a moment of silence.

“Sure,” You said. The door opened and there was John. He still wasn’t dressed.

“You look good. I’m sure Arthur will be happy to see you.” John closed the door behind him, walking over to the dresser.

“Think so?” You asked playfully.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t he be?” He chuckled, John pulled out a pair of black slacks and a white shirt. It looked clean enough.

“She’s nervous,” Abigail told John. John looked at you over his shoulder.

“That so? Arthur is too.”

“Did he say anything about me?” You blurted out, feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush. John walked behind the folding screen in the corner of the room.

“He’s real excited to see you,” John said from behind the screen.

“I’m sure everyone out there is,” Abigail chimed in.

“Arthur wanted me to give you something,” John said as he walked out from behind the screen in his wedding outfit. He walked towards you, outstretching his palm.

It was a chocolate bar. You smiled at it, taking it from John.

“What's up with you two and chocolate?” John asked you as he walked over to the cabinet, he leaned against it, watching Jack play with his yarn.

“It’s a long story, but he’s only supposed to give it to me when I’m injured though.”

“Maybe he just wanted to let you know he’s thinking of you,” Abigail spoke, she glared at John, you wondered what that meant.

“I don’t have anything to give him,” You sighed, staring at the chocolate bar. Arthur was always thinking ahead.

“I’m sure he knows you’re thinking of him,” Abigail replied.

“Hopefully.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to eat it, your nerves were too high. All food sounded incredibly unappetizing. You set the chocolate bar on the bedside table. Jack eyed it, his eyes nearly glowing.

“You want the candy bar?” You asked Jack.

He nodded vigorously. Abigail rolled her eyes humorously.

“You can have it,” You told him. It was a gift from Arthur but Jack would have appreciated it even more than you could, and besides, the kid loves candy.

“Thank you, Auntie (Y/N),” He said, grabbing the chocolate bar with eager hands.

“I best be getting down there now, Dutch wants to talk to Arthur and me, good luck out there by the way,” John said, buttoning the top of his collar. He opened the door and left.

Jack continued eating his chocolate, you smiled at the boy. You wanted your own son or daughter so dearly, one with Arthur’s eyes and your hair. That’s all you wanted. You wanted out. As much as you loved your family - you wanted out. You had lived that way for so long, it was all you had ever known. But now you had a chance at freedom - to create your own family with Arthur.

But Arthur would never leave Dutch. And you knew that.

Deep down you knew.

You were tired of the running — tired of the plans, tired of it all. All you wanted was Arthur, him and nothing else. No gang — no killing. Just Arthur.

You didn’t want to raise a child in the gang, that was a foolish dream. You knew how easily the child could go without a parent, you had seen it happen with Abigail and Jack, although John eventually returned.

You were coming to terms with that though. In the world of an outlaw it was to live forever as an outlaw or die trying.

•••

An hour passed - it was already almost time. A majority of the gang members had already left camp. Your nerves were skyrocketing and when Molly knocked on the door to tell you it was time you almost passed out. Abigail gently ushered you to the door. Your hands were shaking as you slowly opened it up, seeing Molly in her special dress.

The plan was to head to a small church where they held outdoor weddings behind the building, the venue backed up to a river so you would be standing by it saying your vows. It was not very far from Shady Belle. Churches were never quite Arthur’s style, so you opted for an outdoor wedding..

You walked down the staircase slowly to the carriage outside, your hands were shaking wildly. Abigail held you tightly, Jack at her hip. The carriage was waiting outside for you. The camp was deserted behind you, it was strange to see. It was almost eerie, the lack of life, but you knew later tonight it would be bustling with it.

Abigail helped you up into the carriage. Once everyone was in the driver set off. Your heart pounded in your ears, your stomach churning.

“I’m so nervous.” You clasped your gloved hands tightly in your lap, as if it would somehow stop the shaking. Every turn, every jolt, it did not help with your nerves at all.

“I know, dear,” Molly said, putting her hands over yours. Abigail watched you sympathetically, she knew this wasn’t easy.

The carriage moved closer and closer to the venue. Arthur was surely feeling the same way, hopefully not to the same extent.

You were silent for most of the ride, Abigail and Molly talked fruitlessly, but you could not focus on their words. It felt like there were a thousand thoughts in your mind but not a single one was coming to your mind clearly, they were all shrouded in nervousness.

When the carriage suddenly came to a stop your heart jumped. You looked out the window and held your breath. This was it.

You were getting married. Today. Right now.

It was suddenly almost hard to wrap your mind around it. Abigail had to lightly nudge you out of the carriage, otherwise you would have been frozen in that seat.

You stepped out of the carriage, the sun was bright and slowly setting in the sky. By the time you would all get back tonight - it would surely be night.

Charles and John were waiting outside of the church for you. Every step closer to the church felt heavier and heavier, it was beginning to be hard to stand up straight.

“You look nice,” Charles said, holding the door open for you. Sunlight seeped in from the windows of the church, it was dusty inside. Sadie, Miss Grimshaw and Mary Beth sat on one of the pews, waiting for you.

“Thank you, Charles.”

Mary Beth gave you a small wave as you walked closer to them. Molly, Abigail, Jack and John behind you. It was hot and dry inside the church, it did not help that you were wearing a heavy dress either.

You opened your mouth to say something to Sadie, but Miss Grimshaw quickly cut you off. Molly walked out the back door to the ceremony.

“Arthur’s in the room behind the altar, with Dutch and Hosea. The Processional is starting in five minutes,” Miss Grimshaw reminded everyone. You nodded slowly. Five minutes felt like nothing. Abigail clipped the veil into your hair as Miss Grimshaw spoke. The veil was long and trailed to the floor, with lots of lace that was intricately woven.

“The order goes Dutch, Miss Grimshaw, Arthur, Charles, John, me, Mary Beth, Abigail, Jack and then our bride with Hosea,” Sadie read off from a piece of paper she had been holding.

“Then I’ll get out there with them, and you, Abigail, make sure the boy doesn’t drop the rings,” Miss Grimshaw finished, she turned swiftly towards the room behind the altar. Charles and John followed suit.

You sat down on one of the pews, your heeled foot tapping tirelessly against the floors. You tried to think of something calming, but nothing came to mind. It all was scrambled, your brain desperately grasping at a comprehensible thought.

“You’ll be fine,” Sadie told you as she leaned against the pew.

“You will be,” Mary Beth agreed.

“I’m afraid I’ll mess up.”

“You won’t mess up, you’ll be fine,” Abigail beamed. The seconds ticked on, the women sticking to their own conversations after noticing the worry in your eyes.

The music began and you immediately perked up, five minutes seemingly goes fast when your mind is a jumbled mess.

Sadie, Mary Beth and Abigail got up. Jack held onto his mother’s dress tightly. Abigail turned to smile at you sweetly as they walked closer and closer to the back. You gave her a small wave of goodbye. She mouthed “you’ll do great.” as she vanished behind the door.

The church was now completely deserted, it was now you and your thoughts. About a minute passed before Abigail knocked on the door. You hesitantly walked over to the looming door. Your heart beating wildly, like it would jump out of your chest.

You opened it and took a small breath, trying to calm your screaming nerves. In a few moments, you would see Arthur, and he would see you. And you would be his, and he would be yours. Years of yearning, wishing the other would be at their side, who knew it would come to this? He would be yours and you would be his. It was as simple as that.

Hosea was waiting on the other side for you, looking handsome as ever in his suit. He was the closest thing to a father you had ever gotten, it was only fitting he would walk you down the aisle. He smiled at the sight of you, unable to hide his pride.

The small compartment behind the church was small too. The door was open leading to the altar where Arthur was waiting for you, but a path obscured by trees hid it from you.

“You look beautiful,” He whispered, resting a hand on your shoulder. You stared at the door, waiting for your turn. You smiled politely, although you were not facing him.

The summer buzz of cicadas was heard even as the Procession played, a melodic tune. You waited for the music to change into your entrance.

“You’ll do fine out there, Arthur loves you,” Hosea’s words were quiet, but you could hear them loud as day. It was entirely true of course. Hosea was always right.

The music slowly shifted into a much slower song, and you knew. This was it. Hosea slid his arm through yours, your right arm holding the bouquet. You both slowly stepped out into the bright day. You felt like you were floating on a cloud — like nothing could ever bring you down. The dirt crunched underneath your feet as the aisle slowly came into view. Hosea’s arm was steady and soothing, his steps slow and methodical.

Worries drifted away as you slowly came into view, the wedding party rising at your arrival. The music continued to play a slow, beautiful tune, the cicadas humming happily and the rush of the river drumming thunderously.

And then there was Arthur, smiling at you like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his entire life. You were closer now to him, every step bringing you nearer and nearer to his heart.

Arthur was handsome. He was gorgeous. And he was yours — all yours. He was sporting a dashing black suit, perfectly tailored. The flower in his chest pocket was the same as the ones in your hair.

It was like there was a beam of light radiating from him, Arthur had always been your beacon even in the darkest of times. He was love itself.

You felt the eyes of your friends and family on you, but you could only focus on Arthur.

When you finally reached the altar, your hearts felt like they were being synced, beating as one rather than two. The officiant stood behind Arthur, underneath two trees with a small arch decorated with flowers, Sadie and Mary Beth waiting for you on the left, John and Charles next to Arthur.

Hosea let go off your arm, smiling the entire time. He took his place next to Dutch in the front row, you handed Abigail your bouquet and stood next to Arthur underneath the arch, he took your hands in his. His hands were rough and strong, but they felt like home.

You looked into those eyes of endless waves, you only felt love and happiness from him. He looked like a prince, like there was supposed to be a crown sitting on top of his head, rather than the flower one you wore.

The officiant began with a welcome as the guests sat down.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of these witnesses, to join Arthur and (Y/N) in matrimony, which is commended to be honorable among all men; and therefore is not by any to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently, discreetly, advisedly and solemnly. Into this holy estate these two persons present now come to be joined. If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace." The officiant said. This was really it, you kept reminding yourself. You both looked towards the crowd, for a fleeting moment you wondered if anyone would speak up. Arthur wondered the same, perhaps Micah would think he was funny and say something completely out of line, but he didn’t.

Arthur thought you were a goddess in your beautiful white gown. It looked exactly like something you would wear, the dress accented your body wonderfully, he couldn’t help but admire it.

The officiant spoke some more, weddings, love, union, the beginning of your new life - but you could barely focus on it. Your only focus was Arthur. Your fiancé, your best friend, your husband in a matter of moments.

“And now the bride and the groom are to exchange vows,” The officiant proclaimed. He gave you your paper with the vows.

Tears slowly started forming in your eyes as you shakily held the paper, smiling through it all.

“I remember when you found me alone in that cabin, that day you saved me in more ways than one. You taught me to love, to laugh, to trust. You have been my best friend, my companion, my lover and now you will be my husband. You have stayed by me when I was sick, injured, drunk, crying, you were there for it all. And I shall be there for you, I will choose you every time. I devote myself to you, Arthur Morgan, in sickness and in health. For I am yours, and you are mine.” You squeezed Arthur’s hand tightly, feeling the words come out naturally, like you had been waiting to say them your entire life. His smile widened throughout your entire vow.

The officiant held the paper out to Arthur, he let go of your hand to take it. You remembered him saying writing vows was hard, saying that his words sounded like nonsense. But they weren’t nonsense, Arthur was a gifted writer, whether he knew it or not. The thoughts in his journal (which you rarely ever saw) were something precious.

“My dear (Y/N), the first day I met you I knew I would like you. And I was right, and here we are now years later. It’s been a wild last few years, reckless too, but this is our first step into our new life, and we best not waste it. You are my love, you are my light, and I love you more than anything in this world. Nothing can or will separate us from now till the end of time,” He finished, his eyes brimming with love. Nothing could have prepared you for this moment, looking into his eyes and only feeling happiness. Like it was only you and him in this entire universe.

“Arthur, do you take Y/N L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, through sickness and health, till death do you part?” The officiant asked. Arthur looked towards the man and nodded.

“I do.”

“And do you, Y/N, take Arthur Morgan to be your lawfully wedded husband, through sickness and health, till death do you part?”

“I do,” You said to Arthur. You smiled uncontrollably, and tried to stop the tears that were threatening to spill out the corner of your eyes.

The officiant leaned down to take the rings from Jack.

“Arthur, take this ring and place it on her finger.” Arthur took the ring from the man, and you presented your left hand to him. He slipped it on effortlessly.

“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness to you.”

“Y/N, take this ring and place it on his finger.” You grabbed the ring, feeling the weight of it in your hand, you slipped it on his strong hand.

“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness to you,” You rang out loud and clear. Speaking only to him. Words that would forever bind you to him.

“And remember, love is an unbreakable bond, it is gratitude, it is faithfulness, it is kindness, it is forgiveness, it is everything good in this world. Lovers will always find a way back to each other,” The officiant said with parting words.

“With the power invested in me, I now declare you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride.”

You both leaned in, he grabbed your waist, you took his face in your hand. And you kissed him, and you kissed him. His mouth against yours, it was a rushing moment, like you were soaring above the clouds. And you felt the love between, the hearts beating as one. Arthur was secure, he was your lifeline, he was your home. Arthur was yours.

Cheers were heard as you both retreated. You took his hand in his as you made your way back down the aisle. The crowd stood up for you, clapping the whole way. You would have to get used to the new weight on your finger, it was different than the engagement ring.

Once you were back on the path, you finally spoke, unable to hide your excitement.

“Gosh, I was so nervous all day, but when I got up there it wasn’t bad at all!” You exclaimed, walking closer to the church. The forest singing a merry tune for you

“I know, John had mentioned earlier that you was nervous,” Arthur replied. Your heart was beating quickly, but this time not with nerves, with excitement, with joy.

“And thank you, for the chocolate by the way. I ended up giving it to Jack, since he was ogling it the entire time,” You laughed, speaking quickly. Arthur held the door open for you as you entered the church.

“I was wondering if you would eat it or not.”

“Jack liked it. He also said he picked you that flower,” You told Arthur as you walked towards the front of the church, out towards the carriage

“The flower crown looks nice in your hair, I think he made a good choice.” You opened the door to the carriage outside. The rest of the gang would come back to camp after you left. Arthur helped you into the carriage while the driver congratulated you two.

At 19 you expected to live the rest of your life with a gang of merciless strangers who beat and did horrible things to you, but now here you are, 10 years later - married to the man who had saved you. And he had saved you every day since then, reminding that you were worth the love he could give.

And he was yours, and you were his.

•••

The party still roared to life outside. There was a feast fit for a group of outlaws, cake, never ending drinks, a vibrant bonfire, poker, stories, toasts, talks. It was everything you hoped your wedding would be. Hosea and Dutch were like proud fathers the entire night. You even saw what looked like Miss Grimshaw wiping away some tears when Hosea gave his speech.

It was interesting to say the least — when the songs started, you knew a majority of the camp had gotten drunk. Barely anyone had retired for the night — besides Strauss, and Reverend who had already blacked out. They sang songs for you and Arthur, they sang songs about love, about sex (which made you blush and hide your face, while Arthur had a dumb smirk on his face). You had switched out of your dress after the ceremony and opted for a looser small white dress.

When the crowd began saying the ‘Ring Dang Doo’ you groaned, knowing everyone would be looking at you. Arthur laughed as he sang along, watching you the entire time. The hoops and hollers were joyous as you hid your face in Arthur’s shoulder.

When the song was finally over you let out a sigh of relief, but you remained nuzzled into your husband's side. He was warm from drinking, and he had a happy glow to him. There was not another place you would rather be than to be next to him.

Hours passed smoothly, the songs became less rowdy as the party goers quickly dropped, hopefully not too hard. It was hard to believe your wedding day was over. You remained by Arthur’s side for a majority of the night. By the time Javier and John had packed up for the night — as well as an insufferably drunk Sean who’d fallen on his face getting up, it left only you and Arthur.

The fire crackled and sputtered as the remaining embers shuddered, praying to stay lit. The night was slowly coming to end, the final waves of darkness would be over soon, and light would wash over the terrain.

You were tired, you’d been awake for nearly a full day now. Your head rested on Arthur’s shoulder as he stared meaningfully into the fire, both of your eyelids heavy. You slowly blinked, trying to stay awake, to not fall asleep in the middle of camp.

“You know we could get away from this all, Arthur,” You mentioned to him, trying to suppress a yawn that was threatening to be released from your mouth.

Arthur replied with a questioning hum.

You looked up at him, “We could get away from this life, you know, start our own family.”

“You know I want that, sweetheart. Life’s just a mess right now, not sure it’s the right time,” He sighed. You turned back to look at the dwindling fire.

“I know, Arthur, I do. I just — I want a child of our own, a house, a family.”

“We’ll have that one day.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

•••

[cutie1365]

The Family We Choose 1/3

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader Mini-Series

Word Count: 1.5k

Request: made by @agentmalfoy24601, I don't want to spoil the ending so I won’t post the actual request here but I’ve decided to turn it into a three part mini-series. It’s all written so I’ll get a solid update schedule for it, maybe one every other day or so.

A/N: Please let me know what you think and what you think will happen in the next parts!

Masterlist in bio. Taglist in the reblogs. MUST COMMENT/REBLOG TO STAY ON.

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“Alright miss?” Your seemingly intimidating interviewer asked with a raised brow.

“Carter.” You answered with a smile.

“Miss Carter, just some routine questions here to begin if you don’t mind.” You nodded and he continued.

“Your age?” He asked, pen in hand to jot down your responses.

“Twenty-six.” You answered.

“Education?”

“Oxford.” You answered, and you could tell he was impressed as he wrote that bit down.

“Parents?” He was really speeding through this wasn’t he. Must be in a rush, or he never really wanted to interview new assistants in the first place.  

“Orphan.” You answered with a somber smile.

“My condolences.” He apologized, although in this job the less family, the better, he thought.

“Of course this isn’t a normal job so a normal job interview would be unfitting. I’m going to ask you some questions to understand your capabilities of thinking outside the box and how quickly you can devise and apply ideas.” He explained, adjusting his position in his plush, black, leather seat.

“So you want to see if I’m clever or not?” You smirked.

“More or less.” He nodded.

“Mr. Holmes, I have an IQ of 170, I hardly think your little brain teasers will be necessary.” You spoke with a cocky smile.

“They weren’t brain teasers...” Sherlock said slightly offended and flustered. He mentally cursing John for telling him that would be a good idea for the interview.

“Of course they weren’t.” You laughed slightly, seeing his reaction to your previous words. “You know your best bet to see if I really am clever or useful would be to take me on a case.”

“Well I don't have anything on right now.” He lied, steepling his hands and examining you.

“Oh come on Sherlock, we both know that’s not true.” You raised a brow to him with a smirk, clearly he was testing you.

“Do we?” He asked, wondering how you knew and wanting you to lay it all out for him.

“Despite the fact that you’re a terrible liar, there are clear signs that you are in the middle of a case. You’ve attempted to clear them away before our little interview but I can still tell. You had papers and pictures tacked above the couch, you removed them in a hurry, ripping one away leaving the tack and remnants of paper.” You pointed above the couch behind you without turning around, meaning you either noticed them when you walked in or saw them through the mirror opposite you. “The couch cushions still are deeply indented in the middle, the last thing that happened to it was you standing on it moments before I arrived. Two computers are opened on your desk, you were doing research, and a lot of it. You keep glancing at your watch, you can’t wait for this interview to be over so you can get back to your case. You actually never wanted to do these interviews in the first place, you’d much rather keep your usual companion. I can be like him if you’d like- pointing out the obvious and constantly being baffled by your conclusions and amazed when you lay it out quite plainly for him.”

“Did my brother send you?” He asked through squinted suspicious eyes.

“No...” You said, curious as to who this brother was. You made a note of that for later.

“How come I've never heard of you before?” He asked, leaning back in his chair, clearly ruling you out as any sort of threat.

“Because I'm nobody.” You shake your head.

“Hmm.” Sherlock looked you over, there was something about you that he couldn't quite put his finger on, “Fine, one case.”

And the rest was history...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You’d worked with Sherlock on dozens of cases now, to the point where he suggested you move into 221C to make work easier. Purely out of convenience you thought, but truthfully Sherlock enjoyed having you around. You were different, like him. You understood things like he did. You saw the world like he did: one giant puzzle waiting to be solved.

You agreed to move in downstairs, but you didn’t want to step on any toes with Sherlock and John’s relationship. Just because John started a new job at the hospital and was the reason for your recent employment with Sherlock, you didn’t want him to think you were his replacement in every sense of the word.

You suggested to Sherlock that he take John out, a guys night, so that he didn’t feel left out of all the cases the two of you had recently solved. He agreed it was probably a good idea, and remembered there was a new play showing: Terror By Night. A classic murder mystery that for him would probably be quite dull, but might remind John of the good ‘ol days.

Unbeknownst to you, Sherlock purchased three tickets.

“Are you ready to go?” He asked you with a raised brow, as you were making a cup of tea in the kitchen, clearly not dressed to be going out.

“Go where?” You gave him a confused look.

“Terror By Night, remember.” He stated as if it was clear as day.

“I thought that was just going to be you and John, a guys night?” You furrowed your brows.

“If I have to suffer through this, then you do too.” He smirked.

“It doesn’t sound like I have a choice.” You laughed.

“Please come, I’d... I’d like you to be there.” Sherlock muttered nervously. Your jaw dropped open slightly before answering. Was this Sherlock’s way of... flirting?

“Oh, ok. Um, yeah I guess I can go throw something on.” You nodded, looking down at your sweatpants and Oxford tee.

You made your way downstairs to throw on a nicer outfit and slap on a little bit of makeup.

Sherlock was waiting patiently for you, he stood when you entered the room with a nervous smile. You returned it, grabbing your coat off the rack and letting him know you were ready to go.

“John’s going to meet us there, he got held up at work.” Sherlock informed you after giving the cabbie directions to the theatre on the Strand.

Once you arrived at the theatre you saw John standing outside and waved to him.

“So what’s all this about?” John laughed, motioning to the title poster and Sherlock picking up the tickets.

“I just work here.” You shrugged, earning a laugh from John.

“How’s that going by the way?” John asked.

“Oh, you know, never a dull moment.” You smiled, as Sherlock approached the two of you, tickets in hand.

Once you took your seats, each of you on opposite sides of Sherlock, you began to look around the small theatre, examining it.

“You know, if you had told me I was going to be third wheeling I could have brought Sarah.” You heard John whisper to Sherlock, your cheeks turning bright red. So your suspicion from earlier had been confirmed. You didn’t think Sherlock went in for that sort of thing, you never saw him as the relationship type. He’s the definition of the ‘married to his work’ type.

As the play went on, in a very Agatha Christie whodunit fashion, you found yourself enjoying it. You had predicted the ending not too far into the play, but what happened next, none of you could have expected.

In the play the Detective gathered everyone to reveal the murderer, as he explained how the son murdered Lady Margaret Chaplette, in a fit of rage he struck the Detective with his prop crutch. Only it wasn’t a prop. As he struck him across the head, the blow killed him instantly. Your eyes grew wide and you turned to Sherlock as you both immediately realized this was not part of the play, and everyone in the theatre had just witnessed a real murder.

You and Sherlock immediately jumped up, following John who checked the vitals of the actor and confirmed his death. Sherlock gently picked up the prop crutch that was supposed to be made of rubber as you’d observed during the first act, only to find it was aluminum.

“Someone must have switched it during the interval.” Sherlock turned to you and you nodded.

“We need to shut this place down, no one leaves. The murderer is most likely still here.” You explained, Sherlock rushed off to the front of the house.

“Never a dull moment.” John muttered as you both stepped away from the body.

After a night of interrogating all of the cast members you’d discovered that it was ‘the Detective’ himself who had switched the props, causing his own death. He was trying to set up the son to injure him or break his arm so he could sue the theatre or make sure he got fired, after numerous stories of his misconduct and relationship with the director.

The man who played the son, an avid drunk, had had a bit too much to drink that night and when he swung the crutch, struck the detective in the head, unintentionally killing him.

“So our victim is also our murderer.” You nodded to Sherlock.

“I know, exciting right.” Sherlock said, a little too giddy for a crime scene.

“Well this isn’t exactly how I planned my night to go.” You laughed.

“Me either, but this is much better.” He smirked, and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Thank you for reading! There’s two more parts- what do you think will happen next?? Comment and let me know!

Taglist in the reblog.

Feedback is so important to writers, just a simple comment can make someone’s day. Thank you!

[dailyaudiobible]

05/06/2021 DAB Transcript

Ruth 2:1-4:22, John 4:43-54, Psalms 105:16-36, Proverbs 14:26-27

Today is the 6th day of May welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian it is great to be here with you at this beautiful time of the year here in the rolling hills of Tennessee. Whether rain or shine it's just a beautiful…yeah…when the seasons transition it’s just a beautiful month. It gets hot here. That's coming. That's how summer is but it’s a beautiful time of year and I trust that it is lovely no matter where you are. And if it's not lovely, we…we have this place, this little oasis around this Global Campfire where there’s always peace. And we can always come here and exhale, right, and just breathe and let the Scriptures wash into our lives. And, so, let's move in that direction. We’re reading from the New International Version this week. We concluded the book of Judges yesterday and turned a page and entered into the book of Ruth, which is where we find ourselves situated today. And it…it's a shorter…it's a shorter book. So, we began it yesterday. We’ll conclude it today. Ruth chapters 2, 3, and 4.

Commentary:

Okay. So, we concluded the book of Ruth today. And yes, a breath of fresh air. What a beautiful ending to a story that was really a very very bitter story in the first place. It’s a story a famine in the land. And we've seen famine in the land of Canaan before, right? That's how the children of Israel, those first-generation children of Jacob ended up in Egypt because there was famine in the land. And Joseph had gone before and there was provision. So, there's famine in the land again and in this case a family, the Elimelek family, they have to go to Moab and the sons of Naomi and Elimelek, they had Moabite wives. Now, Moab basically is on the other side of the Dead Sea. Moab is sort of the territory of modern-day Jordan. In centuries past when the children of Israel were kind of wandering around the wilderness, we remember stories with Moab, like the story of Ballam, sent to curse them and he couldn't. He could only bless them, right, with king Balak. So, there's some history here. Ruth is a Moabite woman who will not leave her Hebrew mother-in-law. I mean on the one hand, it's a noble thing at all to stay with your mother-in-law but she's leaving her country. She's leaving her family. She's leaving her people. She's telling Naomi that “wherever you go, I will go. Your God will be my God. Where you die, I will die. Like your people will be my people.” So, Ruth is, in so many ways, putting her in her life in Naomi's hands because they do go back to her people and she does have to find a way to…to eat. So, she does have to go and…and basically glean from the leftovers anything that she can. And we see this provision is made in the Levitical law, this provision for the foreigners among you, right, the orphans and the widows…like a way for people to still find food. And, so, she's doing this and that's when Boaz comes onto the scene and doesn't take too long before Naomi recognizes what's going on here and what could go on here and how this could be a…this could provide for Ruth because Ruth’s gonna outlive Naomi. And, so, she needs this kind of covering and this kind of protection because she's a foreign woman. So, she mothers Ruth. Naomi mothers Ruth and mentors Ruth and shows her the way to signify to Boaz that she…that she's available. And she guides her through this process with dignity, right? She's not like, “okay Ruth, here's what you do. Boaz is a little bit older. You can seduce him. You’re a younger woman. So, when he has little to drink after the harvest or whatever then you find out where he went to sleep and then you go teach them the ways of the world girl.” That’s just…that…that's not what happened. She signified by laying at his feet. He woke up and responded with dignity and character - the entire process. We see like something finally is through and through done with character and uprightness. And, so, Ruth and Boaz are appropriately married and she has a son, which changes the whole complexion of Naomi's bitter life into joy and brings a child to an elderly father in Boaz and the reputation of Ruth only grows as a faithful, committed, dignified, valiant woman. And as the story goes, as we’re told when we get the genealogy at the very very end, we find that Ruth and Boaz are the great-grandparents of a man who would become king of Israel, David, king David, the author of so many of the Psalms whose story we have not come to yet but we’re about to before too long. And, so, let's just let this story sink into our hearts and minds as we meditate upon it for…well…for as long as we think about it. Character matters. Faithfulness to God matters. Wisdom matters. There is a way to live with honor and when we do tragedy has a way of working itself out. And although weeping may last a night the joy comes in the morning.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word. We thank You for bringing us to this point where we can read the story of Ruth as we continue to just experience the changing of the seasons. And we ask Holy Spirit, come plant the Scriptures into the depths of our lives so that they can speak to our very identity transforming us, showing us the path ahead. Come Holy Spirit we pray in the name of Jesus. Into all this we pray. Amen.

Announcements:

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Check out the resources in the Shop. This is where there are definitely resources for the journey that we are on. So, check that out.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, if this mission that we…that we are all a part of to bring the spoken word of God read fresh every day and given freely to anyone who will listen to it anywhere on this planet any time of day or night and to build community around that rhythm so that we know that we’re not alone, we’re not alone on the endeavor to move through the Bible and read every paragraph and sentence and word of it but we’re also not alone on the journey through a year of life together. And it makes all the difference as so many of us can attest to. And if that has made a difference in your life than thank you for your partnership. There’s a link on the homepage at dailyaudiobible.com. If you’re using the app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement, you can hit the Hotline button in the app. That's the little red button up at the top or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hi, everyone it's Lisa the Encourager. I'm calling to let you all know that I lost my daddy this past Thursday April 29th. And I'm very blessed because I had a wonderful dad, and he was a Christian man and he raised us, all my brothers and sisters up in the Lord and taught us. He was a wonderful example for all of us and I'm so thankful for that. I know everyone doesn't have that. And he had some health concerns and he's overcome a lot over the years. He was 85 and I was blessed to be with him at the time he passed and could look right in his eyes and tell him how much I loved him. And I knew that at that moment he transitioned and was able to be in the open arms of our Savior. And that's a true blessing for me. Although it's been very difficult and I've been very sad, like I said I'm very grateful that I had that opportunity to have a wonderful father. And through this I just want to continue to pray for two of my brothers that have walked away from their beliefs. And I just would ask for your prayers for their Salvation or the reassurance or knowing and knowledge and acceptance of the Lord Jesus Christ. Their names are Daryl and Shane. And I would just pray that you would pray with me for their salvation and renewed faith through this time of our funeral services for our dad or just in life in general. If you could pray for their Salvation, I would greatly appreciate it and just that we’ll have peace as we have the funeral. My mom is transitioning with…

DABber family, this is the Burning Bush that will not be Devoured for the Glory of our God and King. I just got off the phone with family in Chad, central Africa. There is a war there. The president got killed in battle. They’re stranded in the capital city. The borders are closed and so are the airports. Can you please pray. I'm not sure I understood exactly what's going on, but I heard that Boko Haram was also in the mix with the fighting. And this is a Christian family. I pray for all the believers out there, just all the citizens, the innocent people. God, I pray for protection in Jesus’ name. And God I pray for peace in Chad. Oh my God, yeah….

Good morning DAV family this is David from Texas. Ultimately, I just wanted to call in and thank you guys because this is a community that I never had before. Before the pandemic I never had, you know, certain convictions that I…that…that were on my heart. I was raised by a pastor and a very God-fearing woman but, you know, I was just kind of walking through the steps. And…and…and by chance I found this podcast and my life has changed just by going through the Bible in these first couple months of the year…few months of the year. I really…I really pray that you guys…you know…I'm 21 years old, I'm in college, and I'm going through a phase where I'm trying to separate myself from a lot of the habits that I had before. And I pray that you guys, you know, can…can send your prayers out for me and strengthen me in this time because I do feel like I have a calling, you know, to speak to people and help people. But sometimes I struggle with, you know, being a hypocritical Christian, you know, not…not…not in that I'm telling people to do things that I'm not doing, but I don't feel like I can give people advice and speak to people when I'm…I'm still…I'm still kind of living the way that I used to and it's hard to phase out the things that I used to do. So, I thank you guys. Thank you, Brian. You know, this is this is a really great platform. And God bless you guys. Thank you.

Good morning DABbers again. This is B from Ireland. First of all, Brian, Jill, congratulations on China and Ben's baby, Reagan. Congratulations. I pray that Reagan will live in the footsteps of her ancestors, mainly you and Jill, that that baby will grow up in favor and stature before God and man, that that baby would do great exploits for God, do greater things than you and Jill and even China and Ben ever will do, that the generation of blessing that is so evident in the life of your family continues through Reagan the Great in the mighty name of Jesus. Thank you for all you do. Thank you for this platform. It's been a lifesaver. I'm six years in, I think. I started 2016. Is that six years? Yes, I think. And I can't begin to say what Daily Audio Bible has done for me, in me through the work that you're doing. May God continue to bless the work of your hands and the mighty name of Jesus. And I want to use this opportunity to give, you know, a call to all DABberds to give to the Daily Audio Bible ministry however way you can. You know, sacrificially or if it means that you, you know, share your tithes with this ministry because this ministry feeds you every day. So, this is what I do. I don't pay all my tithes to my church. Occasionally I do tithe into this ministry because in a funny way Brian also serves as my pastor. And before I sign out, I want to pray for Rachel a lady who had covid. Oliver, you called. You said your sister Rachel had covid. I pray healing into her body right now in the name of Jesus and restoration in the name of Jesus. The name of Jesus is higher than any other name and at the name of Jesus covid bows.

Hey DAB family this is Sparky from Texas. Monday May 3rd and I wanted to take a minute and pray for a couple people that last Friday was…it hit my heart. Running Bear, I'd like to pray for you and hope that…hope that your healing, your family gets the healing that it needs and sees the love and the Christianity of this community. I'd also like to pray for Norman with the diagnosis and hoping to speak to his family. Let's just go ahead and pray together. Father we come to You and we thank You for Running Bear and both Norman Lord. We ask that You touch their hearts and help them to feel Your healing touch and help them to feel the love of Jesus and the kindness and help them to guide…help guide them to let people see Your light in them Father and to trust You. Father I…I pray for Running Bears family, that he meets the Christian part of our family and the part of You that You told us to be like. Father also pray that You heal Norman in the name of Jesus. There's some powerful things You do Father, and we know that You can heal it. Help to bring his family back together Father and move mountains. You move mountains so much. Father we thank You for everything You do, for every one of us. Amen. I love you guys. Pray for every one of you every time I hear request. I love you all and be blessed.

Hi DAB family my name is Kristen and I'm calling from Oceanside CA and I am a first-time caller, and I was introduced to the DAB family, the DAB community November 2019. And this year is the first year since I was introduced that I have made it a goal to listen every single day. And that has made me so happy and so strong. I am so thankful for the DAB family and I am just overjoyed about Reagan. And I…I love hearing your prayers and I love being able to pray for you. I'm calling to ask for prayer that someone…I…I get spiritual guidance in my life. I don't have many people...I…I have one person that's close to me that believes Jesus died for our sins and that is our heavenly Lord. And it is hard because I need more, and I need to be able to have counsel with someone. I just…I need…you know…I'm praying for a woman to come into my life that I can speak to on a daily basis about the Bible, about Jesus and just…I just need help. Thank you for your prayers.

[rubysunnday]

The Soldier and The Artist Part 3

You had to give Finn credit. Bang on noon, the bell above the door tinkled as it was jostled. You looked up from where you were wrapping the painting in brown paper and smiled at the Peaky Blinder stood in front of you.

“Impeccable timing, as always,” you greeted, sliding off the stool and smiling at him.

“I try,” Finn replied, taking his hat off and shoving it in his coat pocket. “You wrapped it up? With string?”

You shrugged as you pushed the painting forward. “I like to keep it a surprise. Besides, I don’t need you damaging it again.”

Finn chuckled as he lifted the painting up and tucked it under his arm. “So, if I ask you to ‘escort’ me home, you wouldn’t object?”

Your eyebrow lifted slightly. “I thought we were going for lunch?”

“We are!” Finn exclaimed quickly. “I just need to drop this off first and I thought you could come with me.”

You smirked, leaning forward on the counter. “You did, did you?” Finn’s face fell slightly, and he shifted his feet. “I’m messing with you, Finn, of course, I’ll escort you home. I need to make sure you don’t drop the painting.”

Finn laughed as you slipped around to the other side of the counter. “Yes, ma’am.”

You grabbed your coat from the coat stand and flipped the ‘we are open’ sign to ‘closed’. “Can you be trusted to carry that?”

Finn straightened his back, puffing his chest out slightly. “I’m a Peaky Blinder.”

“Yeah, that means nothing.”

“Yes, I can be trusted,” he replied begrudgingly, opening the door for you.

You couldn’t help a chuckle escaping as Finn made a big deal of carefully stepping out the door and lifting the painting up high to avoid dragging it through the mud.

“See, being careful.”

“Finn, you’re about to walk into a car.”

“Ah, fuck.”

/

“So,” you glanced up at Finn, “anything I need to know before meeting your family?”

“We’re all fucking mad?”

You laughed. “Apart from that.”

“Just expect them all to judge you,” Finn eventually said. “They’re some of the most judgemental people I’ve ever met, but they mean well…I think.”

“Well, that just installed so much confidence in me.”

“Sorry,” Finn said grimacing. “But Arthur already likes you, same with Michael; that’s a good advantage.”

“Advantage? We’re not playing football, Finn!” You exclaimed loudly, rolling your eyes.

“What do you want me to say? They’re all lovey-dovey and flowers and butterflies?”

“Yes, that would help considerably!”

“It’s just my family, y/n, chill. You’ve already met Arthur, that’s a fourth of the battle won.”

“I’m assuming Tommy’s back,” you said quietly as you turned down Watery Lane.

“This morning.” Finn stopped walking. “It’s him you’re worried about, isn’t it?”

You nodded. “And Polly and John…I mean, it’s easy for them to hate me.”

Finn smiled at you, tucking your hair behind your ear with his spare hand. “No one can hate you, y/n/n, love, it’s physically impossible.”

“But, just say they do –“

“Then I’ll tell them they’re fucking mental,” Finn said, cutting you off. “Now, come on, I for one would like to get some lunch in the next hour.”

Grabbing your hand, Finn all but dragged you down the road. It wasn’t that you were scared by the Shelby’s (you weren’t, not really) but if any sane person had heard the stories you had, they too would be hesitating. If the Shelby’s hated you, then you weren’t in with a good chance of seeing next week.

Finn didn’t bother to knock on the door. He barged in, the door slamming against the wall. You barely managed to catch it before it hit the freshly mended painting.

“What did I say?!” You yelled as Finn skidded to the side, narrowly avoiding hitting the painting on the ceiling. “Careful!”

“I am being careful!” Finn exclaimed, setting the painting against the table rather loudly.

“Evidently!”

“Finn Shelby, don’t break that fucking painting again,” Polly Grey said as she emerged from the betting shop, closing the doors behind her. “It’s expensive enough as it is.”

“Oh, shit, I didn’t pay you!” Finn exclaimed.

You tried not to laugh as his aunt swore loudly behind him. “It’s fine, consider it a thank you.”

“For what?” Finn asked, frowning.

“The other night,” you replied, smiling.

“Oi, Finn, is that Tommy’s painting?” John Shelby walked into the room, his eyes catching you as you wished for the shadows to eat you. “Hello.”

“No,” Finn said loudly, turning you around and pushing you towards the door. “You’re married, John!”

“Where are you two going, I haven’t even had a chance to say hello?” John grumbled.

“We’re going for lunch,” Finn said quickly.

“I’m y/n!” You called as Finn tried to push you out the door.

“John!”

“I know!”

The door slammed shut behind you and you giggled as Finn guided you towards a car. “Ok, that was better than I expected.”

“Yeah, we won at the races the other day,” Finn exclaimed, unlocking the car door and offering you a hand as you climbed in.

You looked around the car as Finn climbed in the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. “Tommy’s?”

“What was your first clue?” Finn muttered as he drove off down the road.

“The engraved cigarette case,” you told him, lifting it up and showing him. “Ooo, mints.”

Finn snorted as you discarded the cigarette case for the tin of mints.

“Want one?” You offered, popping one in your mouth.

“No, I’m alright,” Finn replied, shaking his head fondly as he looked at you out the corner of his eye.

“So, Finn, you haven’t actually told me where we’re going for lunch.”

“A field.”

“A field?”

“It’s a picnic,” Finn explained, catching your confused expression. “I went down to the bakery this morning and got bread, scones, cakes – all the good things.”

“Scones? With jam and cream?”

“Obviously.”

You were silent for a moment, watching Finn carefully. “Jam tarts?”

Finn turned to look at you, “as if I’d forget them.”

“What type of Jam?”

Finn gave you a look that said ‘really?’. “Raspberry, what other kinds of jam are there?”

You let out a small squeal, “you do remember!”

Finn shrugged. “What can I say, I like to impress.”

“You phoned my uncle, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, and I made notes.”

“Ooo, notes, I’m almost impressed.”

“What, was raspberry Jam not good enough?”

“No, it was, but notes…oof.”

Finn laughed as he slowed the car to a stop. “We’re here.”

You looked over the grassy field and let out a small gasp. “No way.” You looked at Finn. “No. Way.”

“It’s a nice spot.”

“Yes, and it’s also where you saved my life, Finn! And,” you pointed at a tree, “that’s where you broke your arm trying to impress Sally Jenkins.”

“Polly and Arthur still haven’t forgiven me for that,” Finn muttered as you stepped out the car.

“I don’t blame them,” you replied, taking the blanket from the back of the car. “So, under the tree of doom?”

“If you wish, milady,” Finn said, extending an arm to you.

/

Finn, you’d decided, was a legend.

He’d not only packed raspberry jam tarts, but he’d also gotten a baguette, your favourite cheese, the fancy cakes you liked and had even nicked a bottle of champagne from Arthur.

“To old friends,” Finn said, clinking your glass with his.

“To old friends,” you echoed, taking a sip. “This was nice.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “I’ve loved catching up with you, Finn. This was a nice luncheon.”

Finn paused for a moment, watching the bubbles in his champagne. “I was hoping that this could, possibly, be, you know…”

You shook your head. “What?”

“A date?”

You choked on your champagne. “Oh!”

Finn blushed, sighing angrily. “Sorry, that was stupid, I shouldn’t have – “

“No, no, it’s fine, Finn,” you said, watching as Finn tried to pack up. “I just – “

“No, I get it, really, I do.”

“Finn, just – “

“No, I don’t want to embarrass you any further – “

“FINN!” You yelled, grabbing his shoulders and forcing him to look at you. “I’m gay.”

“You’re what?”

You sighed, sitting back down. “I’m gay. I only like girls, not boys.”

Finn’s eyes widened. “Oh!”

“Yeah,” you said, shrugging, “oh.”

Finn slowly sat back down. “I…I didn’t know.”

“No one does,” you said quietly. “Something like that isn’t exactly something you go around Birmingham screaming.”

“No, I suppose not,” Finn muttered. “How long have you known?”

“About a year,” you admitted. “Went on a shitty date and just, sort of, realised.”

“I’m totally cool with it, by the way,” Finn said quickly. “I think it’s cool.”

“Cool?”

“Yeah, I can be your wingman.”

“Oh, god, no,” you laughed, burying your face in Finn’s leg. “Then we’ll cause chaos.”

Finn laughed, putting his hand on your shoulder. “I mean, we already have done!”

You sighed, sitting up. Finn grabbed your hand in his and looked you in the eye. “Y/N, I am perfectly ok with you being gay. I fully support you and, honestly, I am incredibly proud of you for telling me. Even if it was to stop this becoming an incredibly awkward date.”

“Lunch.”

“Yes, lunch,” Finn corrected, rolling his eyes. He looked up at the sky and then at his watch. “We should head home; Tommy will be wondering where his car is.”

The two of you packed up the basket and wandered back to the car. You put the basket in the back of the car as Finn jumped in the front.

“No, no, no,” Finn muttered as you climbed in the passenger seat. He turned the key and the engine coughed before dying. “Oh, Tommy’s gonna kill me.”

“What’s wrong?” You asked, leaning over to look at the dials.

“Engine’s dead,” Finn said, smacking his hands on the horn.

“Alright, let me have a look,” you said, getting out the car again. You popped open the bonnet and looked in the engine. “Oh, yeah, that’s not good.”

“What?” Finn asked, leaning over your shoulder. “Ah.”

“Looks like we’re walking back,” you sighed, shutting the bonnet. You felt something wet land on your hand and you looked up, only to get a raindrop in your eye. “And it’s raining…great.”

“I think there’s a phone box up the road,” Finn said as you grabbed the blanket from the back of the car and wrapped it around your shoulders and head as the rain increased.

“You’re not leaving me here,” you told him, putting your arm through his as you began the long walk up the road.

“So, is this better or worse than your shitty date?” Finn asked as you nimbly jumped over a puddle.

You glared at him as the wind picked up, the raining slicing your legs. “What do you think, Finn?”

“Worse it is, then.”

TAGLIST (message me if you want to be added)

@why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy

[freddiesaysalright]

Beautiful Mess Part 8

A Brian May x Reader Fic

Summary: Reader works in a bookshop. She meets Brian May and they have an instant connection. It seems to be a fairy tale romance. But, things are seldom what they seem.

Word Count: 3k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @mrs-jack-murphy​, @not-john-watsons-blog​, @simmisblog​, @mirkwoodshewolf​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @thosequeenboys​, @lv7867​, @maymacca​, @rethought​, @brianslittlepet​, @jinxy93​, @stephydearestxo​, @mrcleanisthicc​, @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls​, @readinghorn​, @lookuptotheskiesandsee​, @reedusteinrambles​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Some big reveals in this one! Plus, one that changes a lot. 

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7 

Part 8 here we go!!!

Richard took another deep breath.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t talk about this tonight,” he said. “You’ve been through so much. And this...this will upset you.”

“I’m upsetting you too,” you pointed out.

“I wasn’t the one with the gun to my head,” he returned.

“Richard, I’m fine, just tell me,” you insisted.

He opened his mouth, but at that moment, a nurse poked her head in.

“Miss Y/L/N?” she said. “Mr. May’s been asking after you.”

“You should go to him,” Richard said. “We can talk later.”

“I -”

“Y/N, he needs you,” he said. “And you need him.”

You nodded. “Just to be clear...the engagement is off?”

“The engagement is off,” he confirmed. “We’re both better off for it.” 

Strangeness settled over you. You were not engaged to Richard anymore. And yet, for years, it had been your default. You’d spent most of your life engaged to him. A swirling of relief, with a touch of sadness entered your chest. You weren’t entirely sure how you should feel. You cared deeply for Richard, and you certainly never wanted the Kimballs out of your life. Your question now was - would they still want you in theirs?

“I’ll walk with you to his room,” Richard said.

He slipped his arm around your shoulders and you both followed the nurse to Brian’s room. You saw through the window that they were just finishing up his stitches. Richard turned to you and kissed the top of your head.

“I’ll leave you now,” he said. “Come early for Sunday dinner so we can talk.”

“Okay,” you said.

You were nervous and you couldn’t place why.

“Don’t feel guilty, Y/N,” Richard said.

That was it. Wow, he knew you well. It made sense though.

“I can’t help it,” you returned. “This was all my fault and now he’s hurt.”

“It’s not your fault,” he argued. “It’s that stupid man’s fault.”

“He really was sort of stupid, wasn’t he?” you said with a small smile.

“Wile E Coyote plans better than him,” he agreed. “But you’re stalling. Get in there.”

You chuckled. “Alright. Thank you, Richard.” You took his hand and squeezed it. “For everything.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

With one last smile, he left. You took a deep breath to gather your courage. Then, you pushed the door open. The band all turned eyes on you. Roger actually got to his feet, glowering at you.

“Haven’t you done enough?” he questioned.

That stung. It was so harsh, you nearly backed out of the room. Brian was quick to rebuke him.

“Roger!” Brian said. “This isn’t her fault.”

Roger rolled his eyes and flopped back down into his chair. You blinked back tears and approached Brian. He held out his hand to you and you took it. Then, he yanked you into a hug. You gasped softly as he pulled you into his chest, to stand between his legs which dangled off the exam table. His arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders and he buried his face in your neck. You settled against him with a happy hum. 

“How are you feeling?” you whispered.

“Tired,” he answered.

Tears began to sting your eyes once more. For a brief moment, you thought you’d never feel his arms around you again. You thought you’d never smell him again or feel his heartbeat in his chest. You thought you’d never again feel how much he loved you. Well, you were certainly not going to take it for granted now.

“I’m not marrying Richard,” you choked out. 

He pulled away and looked at your face, hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“You’re not?”

You shook your head before pressing his hand into your skin even more with your own hand. “I’m not. I only want to be with you, Brian.”

“But what about all the things you said?” he wondered. “Everything they’ve done for you?”

“I’m very grateful for Richard and his family,” you said simply. “But none of it matters as much as you do.”

A few tears slid down your cheeks. You leaned forward and rested your forehead against his. You were so touched by his easy forgiveness.

“I’m so sorry, Brian,” you sobbed. “I’m so sorry for everything. For lying to you, for letting this happen to you, for hurting you. God, I’m so, so sorry.”

He held you closer. Then he tilted his chin up and kissed you lightly. All doubt about your decision disappeared at the brush of his lips against yours. This was exactly where you were meant to be - in Brian May’s arms.

The doctor finished, but you hardly heard what he said. Brian turned and paid attention, but your eyes remained fixed on his face. Without the cloud of your engagement over you, you didn’t need to etch those fine features into your memory to hold on to for when you and Brian were no longer together. Now, you looked at him because you could. This was the face you would wake up next to for the rest of your life. The face you saw each time you closed your eyes and thought about love.

You and Brian were discharged from the hospital, and walked out hand in hand. The band followed behind, and you could still feel some animosity from Roger. You hoped he would come around, but the most important thing was that you had Brian. Now and forever.

John drove you back to your flat. You and Brian climbed out of the car, thanked them, and then headed toward the front door. A lump appeared in your throat when you saw who was waiting for you. Cat sat at the door like a sentry, tail swishing and eyes blinking up at you. He meowed softly as if to say “What took you so long?” 

“Cat!” you sighed with relief, kneeling down and opening your arms to him. He ran right into them, nuzzling against your face and purring softly. “You were so brave, my little boy.”

Brian chuckled. “Cat is the real hero, apparently.”

“He is,” you insisted, opening the door. You explained what Cat had done after Brian was already released.

“Wow, he is a hero,” Brian said, patting Cat’s head. “Well done, mate. Thanks for looking out.”

Cat mewled quietly in response. You set him down and went to the kitchen, where you prepared a bowl of food for him. He chirped gratefully and started eating. You looked at Brian.

“D’you wanna go lie down?” you asked.

“So much,” he replied.

He followed you into your bedroom. You helped him undress down to his boxers, minding his arm, which was still very sore, despite the pain medication he’d received. You changed into a soft nightie and then you both curled up under your covers. Brian took you under his good arm and you rested against his chest.

“I don’t think I can sleep,” he said.

“Me neither,” you agreed.

As exhausted as you were, a fear lingered in the back of your mind about being taken by surprise again.

“Did you lock the door?” Brian asked.

You thought back. “No, I don’t think so. Come with me?”

He nodded. Together, you went to the front door and you saw the deadbolt was unlocked. You turned it. Then Brian pressed his lips to the exposed skin of your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you tight.

“Feel okay?” he asked.

“Not really,” you returned. “I don’t know how I’ll ever feel safe again.”

“Don’t worry, dove,” he assured you. “We’ll get through this together.”

You returned to bed, settling down at last. Cat joined you and curled up at your feet, falling asleep almost instantly.

“I envy him,” you joked.

“Me too,” Brian agreed. “But since we’re not sleeping, can I ask you for the full story of you and Richard? I feel like there’s still so much I don’t know.”

“You can ask me for anything, baby,” you answered. “The story is quite long. Are you sure you want to hear about it tonight? We can just rest if you like.”

“No, I want to hear,” he said.

“Alright,” you said, taking a deep breath. “My father and Charlie were best friends. War comrades. And so, after the war was over, Charlie started his business, and my father started the bookshop. Business went okay for us, but Charlie flourished. He was born to be in business. He made a lot of money and he made it fast. Richard and I were born and they always joked that one day we would marry. And then they made it official when Richard turned thirteen.”

“Are you saying your marriage was arranged?” Brian questioned.

You nodded.

“I didn’t realize that sort of thing still happened,” he said.

“It does for rich people,” you returned. “Anyway, so we were told. But we were kids, all of that seemed really far off. We didn’t care, really, and we were best friends. It seemed like it wasn’t a bad idea. Then, Mum got ill.”

You swallowed. This part was still difficult to talk about.

“Dad practically abandoned the shop, and all our savings went to her treatments. But nothing worked. We were out of money and out of options. So, Charlie bought the shop and allowed my father to keep running it under the new ownership. But that wasn’t enough to save her.”

“I’m sorry,” Brian said, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you,” you replied with a sniffle. “Mum died, and Dad completely lost it. All the money he had left over from Charlie buying the store was blown on drugs and alcohol. He did whatever he could to numb the pain of losing her. Meanwhile, Susan and Charlie made sure I was fed, clothed, and sent to school. Richard was my rock through all of it.”

You wiped a tear from your cheek.

“Then Dad went,” you continued. “I was so alone and scared. There was no money left over for me, and I thought that I was going to be hauled off to an orphanage or something. But, Charlie was my legal guardian according to my parents’ wishes, so he took me in and he and Susan raised me.

“As teenagers, Richard and I tried being boyfriend and girlfriend. It seemed odd to be engaged before dating, but that was just the world we were in. We tried kissing and all that. We were even each other’s first time, but there was never anything romantic between us. When he went away to uni, we agreed to give up trying to be a couple. He had my permission to go and enjoy it however he wanted, and I was free to do the same, even though I wasn’t going to school. We’d be faithful to each other when we were real grown ups.”

Brian chuckled at that and you smiled.

“So, when he graduated, I was already given the shop, but we were announced as engaged to their whole society,” you explained. “The general public didn’t know or anything, and that was fine by me. I got the shop back on its feet, and I felt like life would be normal soon. I’d marry Richard once he inherited everything and then we’d have babies and that would be my life. I never thought I’d actually find someone I loved.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“A few reasons,” you answered. “First, I didn’t think you’d understand. Second, I had no intention of leaving Richard. I thought this would be a fling I could look back on one day and just remember fondly. Even though I love you, I thought we could never have a future.”

“And tonight changed that?”

“Tonight changed everything,” you said. “I thought one or both of us might die. It made me realize that I don’t want to waste my life. It’s too precious. I want to live fully and be happy. I want to be with you.”

“And you’re prepared to give everything up...that life you might have had...for me?” he wondered.

“Honestly, Brian,” you said. “It’s for me. Liberating myself from that meant I was making myself happy. That comes with being with you.”

Confessing everything to him felt good. It was clarifying and freeing. Like the sun bursting through the clouds after a storm. You could finally just shine.

You talked for a while longer, answering any remaining questions he had and working through your emotions after the grueling night. Finally, just as the sun was peeking through the windows, you fell asleep together. Exhaustion had overcome you at last.

The next few days passed this way. Holed up in your flat, ordering food to be delivered, and sleeping. Several times, the sleep was not restful, as you and Brian were prone to nightmares. The pain in Brian’s arm would also wake him at odd hours, and you would help him with his mediation or massage his arm around the wound. There was a lot you were recovering from. But, as Brian said, you were doing it together. 

It took a couple days before you were able to have sex again. It happened one night after you had a nightmare. Brian woke you but you were crying heavily. He kissed your tears away and when he met your lips, it was over. You asked him to make you forget, and he delivered, making love to you slowly and passionately. It was all hot breath and heavy hands and leisurely kisses. Afterward, you were able to have sex more frequently, which was always amazing. You were careful of Brian’s arm though, so you never got too rough. Besides, you both needed softness now.

On Saturday, your phone rang while you and Brian were still in bed. You groaned, rolled over, and answered wearily.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, it’s Richard.”

“Oh, good morning,” you replied. “D’you know what time it is?”

“It’s ten,” he said. “Are you still in bed?”

“I didn’t ask for your judgement,” you retorted.

He chuckled. “Look, can I come over for a while? I think it’s time we talked.”

“What happened to me coming over early tomorrow?” you wondered.

“Change of plan,” he said. “I’ll explain everything when I get there.”

“Yes, alright, come over,” you agreed.

You really were curious to hear what Richard had to say. Who had he been unfaithful with? And what was the story there? Had he hidden it from his mother and father? You wanted to know all of it.

“I’ll be there in five,” he confirmed.

You said goodbye and hung up. Brian shifted beside you and draped an arm over your waist.

“S’that?” he wondered.

“Richard,” you replied. 

You explained that he was coming over to discuss his own affair. You told Brian about Richard’s behavior at the hospital, and he agreed that you should hear your ex-fiance out. Clearly, something else needed to be said.

Slowly, you and Brian dressed and went out to make tea and feed Cat. It was only moments before there was a knock on the door, and you answered it. There stood Richard, looking uncharacteristically emotional.

“Hi,” he said. “May I come in?”

“Course,” you told him, opening the door wider and allowing him past you.

He walked into the living room. Brian was sitting on the couch, playing with Cat. The two men looked at each other.

“Good to see you’re healing,” Richard said. 

“Thanks,” Brian replied stiffly. “I...I, uh…”

“We don’t need to make this awkward,” Richard assured him. “I have no hard feelings toward you or Y/N. I think it would be great if we could all be friends.”

Brian smiled. “Me too.”

They shook hands. Feeling warm, you took a seat next to Brian and looked at Richard, who sat in a chair opposite you.

“Well, I’ve told Mama and Dad that we’ve ended the engagement, and I’ve told them why,” he began. “Naturally, they’re quite upset, so Sunday dinner is cancelled until further notice.”

Your heart sunk. 

“They’re angry at me, aren’t they?” you said, voice small.

“Actually, they’re angrier with me,” he replied. “They feel that my affair was the real reason we won’t be getting married.”

“How is that fair?” you wondered. “We both met someone else, it’s the same offense.”

“It’s not really the same,” he said.

“How?”

“Because mine was also with a man.”

You blinked as the air was punched out of your lungs. Richard held your gaze as you collected yourself.

“Wh-who is he?” you asked, clearing your throat.

He looked away now, picking at his fingernails. “Well, you see...it wasn’t...it wasn’t just one man. I’ve been - well, I’ve been around.”

You studied his face. His mouth was twisted down. His eyes were watery and red. His knee bounced anxiously. He had never been so afraid to tell you something.

“Rich, I don’t care if you’re gay,” you said. “You’re still my best friend and one of my favorite people in the whole world. It doesn’t matter.”

“That’s not all,” he said, and you heard the crack in his voice.

You didn’t know how much more you could take. But there had to much something more for Richard to be getting this worked up.

“Should I…?” Brian wondered, starting to stand up.

“No, if Y/N trusts you then I do as well,” Richard said, shaking his head. “But this cannot leave this room.”

“Of course,” you assured him. “Rich, what is it?”

“I’ve not only been unfaithful,” he began. “I’ve been extremely reckless and irresponsible. And now I…” He took a moment to take a breath. “I’m paying dearly for it.”

Your stomach was twisted up in knots from worry. What did all of this mean?

“Paying dearly?” you wondered.

“You see, Y/N, my parents are angry with me not because I won’t be marrying you,” he said. “I won’t be marrying anyone at all. Ever.”

“Oh, no…” Brian said under his breath.

You looked at him. You saw the concern and pity on his face before turning back to Richard.

“I don’t understand,” you said. 

“I’m dying, Y/N,” Richard said. “I’ve got AIDS.”

[kbrock9146]

THIS IS A LONG, LONG STORY. PLEASE READ TO THE END TO UNDERSTAND THE MAGNITUDE OF WHAT HAPPENED. But it is a longgggggggg story.

Ok. Buckle up folks. Here comes some crazy content for you to enjoy during Quarantine. Shout out to @gothicmagpie for letting me know that they were interested. ❤❤❤ Here we go, it's going to be a bumpy ride, and a long story (and yes, I will answer any and all questions afterwards, no worries about offending me or anything).

First things first, here is a picture of my maternal grandparents (featuring the grandmother in question):

I do not know the date of the above picture, but my GF was born in 1895, and my GM, 1898. They were in their late 40s, early 50s in the above picture. That, I do know. My mother was born in 1941, when my GM was 42, and my GF was 45, and this picture was taken sometime after she had been born.

With me so far? Okay, good. So those wonderful people above, they are both on their second marriage by the time of that pic. My GF's first wife died in childbirth, and my GM's first husband had been killed in the coal yard he worked at when a dump truck full of coal backed up and unloaded the coal on top of him. My GF and GM were both single parents in the early 1900s - they were both struggling, and going through a multitude of situations - INCLUDING GOING TO THE MOTHER FUCKING POPE (YES, POPE!) SO THAT THEY COULD GET PERMISSION TO GET MARRIED (the reason for that is another story for ANOTHER time).

Anyhow, they get married, blend their children into one household, have three or four more, for a total of seven, my mom being the youngest. My GF dies in 1962 from damage he took at the Battle of the Argonne during World Word One (he dry-drowned in his sleep). This leaves my GM windowed, and she remains this way until her death.

**as an aside, my GF died right before my mom was to get married to my dad (she was 21, and dad 22, at the time); when my dad came over to stay with my mom's family for the funeral, my deceased GF came to my dad with a message, so this is something that just apparently happens in my family - of course, I knew none of this when I saw my GM decades later**

From my first meeting with my GM, and until her death, she looked pretty much exactly as she does in the pic above. The only thing that really changed was that after she broke her hip for the 2nd time, she was pretty much confined to a wheelchair until she died. But kindly, smiling, gentle, and always wearing basically a mumu, that was my GM until she passed away November 2nd, 1990.

That year, on November 14th, I turned 10. My birthday that year was a bit strained. My dad wasn't exactly phased by what had happened, and while my mom wasn't exactly in pieces over it - my GM had been very sick in her last years and in a nursing home - she was sad, and was trying her best to run a family while dealing with the loss. The situation was made even worse when the wife of her oldest brother (he was 30 when she was born), called and berated and shamed my mom for not coughing up more money for the funeral and burial. My mom was EXTREMELY upset. Out of her other six siblings, she was the only one with a child under 25 at that time (remember, I was 10), and money wasn't exactly free flowing. My mom was a stay-at-home mom, my dad was a Baltimore City Police Officer, and I was going to private school. We weren't rich. And my mom's sister-in-law knew this, she just didn't care. She kept calling and harassing my mom to the point of tears. My mom was miserable; she was being driven to the point of shame and madness and didn't know what to do.

That brings us to the day of the visit. I don't remember why, but I was home alone. It was late in the day, and the sun was setting. I know this because the bedrooms of my house are on the west side, and they warm up nicely as the sun goes down. Out of the three bedrooms, I found myself in the middle one that day. The back room was mine, the middle my mom's, and the front/master bedroom was my dad's. I was not allowed into his room, but the middle room had a door that was shared with the master bedroom. That door was open and there was a noise coming from the bedroom, like someone walking around. I sat at the desk, looking towards the noise and the door, and just waited.

I can't say that I was scared exactly, but I was certainly curious. I cleared my throat, closed up the desk, and swiveled in the chair so that I was looking straight at that shared door. The movement continued, but there was no shadow being cast. I grew kind of bored just waiting, so I remember looking away out of the main bedroom door and then looking back.....

When I looked back, there stood my GM in the shared doorway. She was standing there, unaided, no wheelchair, but still rocking a mumu like a champ, and as solid as any living person. I remember her looking bemused and smiling at me before she said, "Hello."; I was more confused than anything at this point, so I mumbled some sort of greeting, and stood up to walk over towards her. I don't know why that was my first thought, but it was. Anyway, as I was walking over, I could hear that someome else was moving around in the room behind her as well, although I couldn't see who it was at that point.

Before I could get any closer, my GM said that she was here because she wanted to see my mom, and asked if I could go get her. I told her that my mom was out, and her smile faltered for a brief moment before she refocused onto me and asked if I could promise to relay a message. I told her of course I could, and waited for what she had to say. She glanced behind her and into the room for a moment, towards where the noise was coming from, and then looked back at me. She began to tell me that she was happy, and that it was VERY important for me to tell my mom that she was happy. Other things were said, like not to worry about what John's wife was saying in regards to the funeral and burial, she missed us, and a few other things that I honestly can't remember. At the end, noise was still being made in the room behind her, and she could see that I was not really paying attention to her (can you imagine the hubris of not paying attention to a dead relative that has come back with a message from beyond because you're concerned about the noises coming from another room?!?!?! My life has been wild.), so she called the person over who had apparently been making all the noise, and introduced him to me.

So now I have two very solid, very elderly-looking deceased people in my house. And this man, keep in mind I've had three grandfather's, this man is someone I have NEVER seen in my life, but my GM is just TICKLED with this guy. She introduces me to him, and he has the HUGEST smile I have ever seen a person have, and he nods his head in my direction, then looks back at my GM, and reaches out to hold her hand.

From this point on I do not remember any words that were said because I was laser focused on trying to figure out WHO this guy was. When I say in the above paragraph that my GM "introduced" me to him, she did, but the name was literally foreign, and having never heard this man's name before, I couldn't clearly make it out. The only thing I knew at the time was that this guy was NOT either of my grandfather's, I had NEVER seen him before, and this is going to sound crazy (oh, yeah, okay Kim, *THIS* is going to sound crazy.... *THIS* part coming up is going to sound "crazy"..... ok, Kim), but he just *looked* Italian. I didn't recognize his name or his face, but looking at him, I just remember thinking that this dude was Italian. And that made me really, really confused because my mom's side of the family and my dad's side of the family both came over together from Germany - they settled on the same street, for goodness sakes, so I had NO IDEA where this Italian guy came from. But I could tell that they made each other really happy in whatever afterlife they were in.

Then my mind started wandering even more because I was thinking to myself that if my GM and this random dude are having a blast in the afterlife, where are my grandfathers? Who are they with? What does this mean? Are there soul mates? When is my mom comimg home? What's going to happen when I die? WHO IS THIS GUY? Why are they in my dad's room? Why is anyone thinking this is okay to lay on a 10 year old? But for real, WHO IS THIS GUY? Does he speak? Why hasn't he spoken? What is going on?

About this time is when either my GM could tell that I was about done, or she herself had done all she could in this plane of existence, because I remember her saying, "Now, you'll tell her won't you?" And I let out a humourless laugh because we all knew that at that point in my mom's life, she didn't believe in ghosts or anything paranormal. So, I kinda laughed, and glanced away and said, "I'll remember, but she's not going to believe me." As I glanced back, they were gone, and the house was silent.

Many weeks went by and I said nothing. My dad, who was very "sensitive" to that sort of thing, and had had supernatural experiences, I avoided telling him because he would have thought I was lying and hit me. He didn't like being bothered with stuff. And my mom, well, she didn't believe in the supernatural, so even though she would have listened to me and let me get the whole story out, she wouldn't have believed a word of it. So for weeks and weeks I kept this story to myself and said nothing. Not saying anything was driving me crazy, especially because I wanted to know who the guy was that had been with my GM.

It was just my mom and myself one night at dinner. And that night my mom broke down over being harrassed about the funeral/burial by her sister in law. After we had finished eating, I took a deep breath and asked my mom if we could talk. She said sure, so I gingerly brought up her mom. I could tell that it wasn't a conversation she really wanted to have, so I just jumped right to the heart of the matter......

"Mom? GM was married twice, right?"

"Yes. I told you about that."

"I know. I was just making sure."

My mom looked at me strangely, "Why would you want to 'make sure', about something like that? What even brought this up?"

Not really knowing what to do at this point, I just jumped in with both feet and started telling her the story of my GM's visit. As predicted, my mom looked thoroughly unimpressed with what I was saying.... that is, until I mentioned the Italian guy.

My mom was an olive skinned woman, but when I mentioned the Italian guy, she turned white as a sheet. She asked me to repeat myself, and then, without a word, my mom got up and left the kitchen. I heard her climb into the attic, and there she stayed for quite some time. She had been gone so long, I was starting to doubt that she was coming back, and I got scared that I had said something that upset her so badly, that she had locked herself in the attic. Just as the situation crescendoed, and I was going over how I was going to explain everything to my dad when he got home and wanted to know why my mom was barricaded in the attic, my mom returned to the kitchen, out of breath, with a very huge, very old book, that she triumphantly thumped down on the table, hard.

With a flourish, she flipped open the book reveal two tin-types. One was a young woman, fashionably dressed, and posing as per the norms at the time. My mother asked, "Do you know who that is?"

I squinted a little harder at the picture. It was my GM. Young. I had never seen her young before. Was that a fox she had around her neck? She was dressed to the NINES. As I sat admiring the tin-type of my GM, I happened to glance over at the other side of the book, at the second tin-type.

This one was a bit different.

This one was a fashionably dressed young man.

THE man.

The man that had appeared all those weeks ago with my GM.

I looked up at mom. She was looking at me expectantly. "Is that him?", she asked. I nodded. It was. Much younger, but the eyes, the nose.... very much the same.

"Who is this?" I asked. My mom started to explain to me as she bade me to continue looking through the book. Before my GF, before my GM's first husband, there was this gentleman, my GM's Italian lover.

The book was full of letters, mementos, fabric, flowers, pictures, just about anything that they had sent back and forth to each other. My GM not only spoke German and English, but Italian too! Their handwritten letters were intermingled with the keepsakes within this book.

No one else in the family knew about my GM's Italian lover. The only reason my mom knew is because as my GM's caretaker towards the end, she had found this and asked her mom about it. Apparently my GM and this Italian gentleman had been together for a very long time. Something happened that forced him to return to Italy - I'm not sure of it was Visa related, or if someone had taken ill - but he had asked my GM to come to Italy with him, and she had declined.

Throughout the book, there were more letters from him after he had gone back to Italy, wherein he was trying to figure out different ways for my GM and him to be together, but eventually the letters stopped (probably because my GM refused to go to Italy). Shortly thereafter, my GM married her first husband, a fellow German by the name of Walter. And the rest is, as they say, history.

So, what did I learn from all this? I learned that once you die, you don't necessarily end up with who you were with while you were alive; you can make house calls to your grandchildren and leave messages for your own, grown children. And being on a different plane of existence will not stop a person from throwing shade when it's justified because the living are acting a fool.

Ah, the mysteries of the supernatural.

[mamapeach7]

Daeul

Preview / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 / Chapter 13 / Chapter 14 / Chapter 15 / Chapter 16 / Chapter 17 / bonus

Chapter 16

-

Hyuk smiled warmly at Daeul before patting his head and taking a seat next to him at the dining table. “Sleep well, Daeul?”

“The host came by early and dropped this off.”, he said as he gently placed a bag of peaches on the table, flashing Hanji a smile.

She grabbed the bag and took the contents out to wash them, trying to distract herself from Hyuk’s warm gazes.

“Alright, I have some work to finish up today so...You two okay with being alone?”, Hyuk asked with a brow raised.

Hanji looked toward Daeul and didn’t miss the look of disappointment on his face upon hearing what his dad had said. To reassure him she spoke, “We’ll be fine -- I think he said he wanted to go for a swim so I-I’ll take him.”

She pointed lightly to the backyard of their temporary home, directing to the small pool outside.

Hyuk nodded softly before patting Daeul’s head once more and pecking his cheek lightly.

“Alright, I’ll see you later then.”, he said with a small smile toward Hanji before leaving, making her hold her chest when he wasn’t looking.

~

Their three days had been spent either walking by the beach, eating or just lazing around the house waiting for Hyuk to return so they could actually do something productive.

The doorbell rang when Daeul and Hanji sat by the pool, making them turn to each other in confusion.

Hanji wrapped the boy around with a towel before grabbing her black silk robe designed with roses, to cover herself up. Afterall, she wouldn’t appreciate a stranger eyeing her down even in a white one-piece.

When she opened the door, there was no one there rather a small envelope on the doormat.

She allowed Daeul to wait behind her as she picked it up and pulled out the contents of it, which was a small note with writing all too familiar to her.

Meet me at The Leo by seven o’clock.

Jerico will come by to pick up Daeul at six.

Hyuk.

Who the hell is Jerico?, she furrowed her brows and turned to Daeul who jutted his bottom lip as he waited to get changed out of his wet clothes.

~

Well apparently Jerico was an employee from the nearby villas who ran the daycare for families. He certainly came by at six o’clock sharp to pick Daeul up who cried loudly upon being sent away.

Not being able to bear seeing him so upset, Hanji herself volunteered to come along with them to drop him off and she would find her own way to the restaurant which Hyuk had informed her about.

She felt a slight tinge inside her with the remembrance of the incident they had been through months before -- their hands tied together with tape and rope and guns pointed at their heads.

But then Jerico let her know that they had the boy’s father’s full consent and that he would be safe under any circumstances, and she certainly trusted Hyuk at this point.

They were generous enough to bring her to The Leo, dropping her off at the front.

She walked through the open doors in her long white dress, another white cardigan placed on her shoulders as she wore her hair down. She made sure to wear a long-lasting perfume and lotioned her arms thoroughly.

“Miss Oh.”, she heard a voice say.

“This way please.”, the voice belonged to an usher of sorts who led her past the chattering customers and toward the back of the restaurant.

When he opened the door, she hesitantly took a step in and instantly her eyes laid upon Kwon Hyuk himself who sat at a small table for two, swirling the ice in his water.

He lifted his head and met her eyes, smiling instantly upon seeing her. Standing up quickly, he pulled a chair out for her which she was shy to take at first but eventually did thanks to the warm smile on his face.

“You made it.”, he said once he sat down in his own seat, making her smile tightly as a shy blush crept upon her cheeks.

Leaning his elbows on the table, Hyuk lowered his head. “I uh...I’m sorry I’ve been so busy with work -- I-I didn’t bring the two of you here all to leave you alone.”

“No, no! I-I get it, and it’s not like you’re not trying at all. And D-Daeul knows how to have fun, anyway.”, she giggled.

Just then the same usher, now a waiter it seemed, delivered them a bottle of red wine and poured a small amount into their glasses. Two other waiters brought what Hanji guessed their appetizers were -- Polynesian chicken wings, which made her smile at Hyuk’s simplicity.

“I hope he hasn’t been giving you too much of a hard time.”

“N-No, not at all!”, Hanji said as they shyly picked up a piece of their meal. “Y-You know, he looks so much like you. I-It’s almost as if you gave birth to him yourself.”

She laughed in between her words, making Hyuk laugh loudly himself. He threw his head back making noises which made Hanji widen her eyes.

Is he choking? Oh my gosh, he’s choking!

“I...Haven’t...Heard that one before.”, he said laughing throughout his sentence. Okay, you’re okay.

“Yea he uh, well I’ve been told he looks and acts a lot like me but in a way...he’s like his mom too.”

This made Hanji freeze in her spot, awkwardly holding a small chicken wing between her fingers. “H-His mom.”

He seemed comfortable talking about her -- continuing to break apart a chicken wing as he spoke. “Yea, but we haven’t spoken since he was born.”

“C-Can you tell me about her?”

~

He comfortably explained to her that Daeul’s birth mom had held a relationship with Hyuk since his early twenties, and that when he was twenty-seven she had gotten pregnant with his son.

“At that time she was applying for a job in Australia and I wanted her to stay here for the sake of the baby and of course...I-I thought we would become a family.”

Two months after Daeul was born and after having lived with Hyuk and his family in the grand home of his parents, she had gotten the job in Sydney. However, she promised that she would return one day for Hyuk and their child and they would continue their life together.

“That was almost three years ago.”

Hanji looked longingly at him, her eyes beginning to show pity which was possibly the last thing he needed.

Sighing heavily, he said, “She’s married now, though.”

Hanji closed her eyes momentarily in both shock and disappointment, not knowing exactly how to comfort him.

“I...I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I got to keep Daeul.”, Hyuk smiled warmly.

“D-Do you still think about her?”, Hanji asked hesitantly, fiddling with her thumbs under the table.

Jutting his bottom lip, Hyuk nodded softly making the woman in front of him lower her head with a certain clench in her heart. You’ve no right to feel jealous, Oh Hanji.

“Every now and then. But don’t worry...There’s been someone else on my mind as of late.”

Hyuk tilted his head and waited for Hanji to raise her head and once she did, he locked eyes with her. A small smirk on his face let her know that whatever she was thinking in that moment, she was correct. That maybe, just maybe she was that person occupying his thoughts lately.

Just then they heard the soft sound of cellos and what Hanji could only make out, a violin. She smiled tightly, looking over to the balcony right on her left side and saw a small quartet on the floor below them.

Then she caught a glimpse of the setting sun right before her, the orange and yellows merging together with the turquoise water, making her wonder where the sea ended and the sky began.

“Do you want to dance?”

Ripping her eyes away from the view, she saw Hyuk’s hand to her right and they travelled to meet his gaze, now standing right next to her.

I’ve never danced.

He gently grabbed a hold of her hand which made her stand up on instinct before he wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her close. She felt awkward. His face which she had admired from afar now just mere centimeters away from hers and his eyes piercing into hers.

She gently wrapped her arms around his shoulders lowering her head to avoid his gaze.

“I haven’t done this in a while.”, he softly said to her.

I haven’t done this ever.

“Are you feeling alright?”, he asked with slight worry in his voice.

Hanji still kept her gaze away from his. “I-Is this alright? I uh, I don’t know how people will react to a caretaker dancing with her employ--”

“Are you afraid of what people will say?”, he questioned and she knew the way his brows looked without even glancing at him.

She nodded slowly, feeling slightly embarrassed of her pride. “Are you afraid because you don’t feel the same way?”

If it wasn’t the tension that made her finally look at him, it was definitely his question. They stopped swaying as she stared into his eyes longingly, her mouth slightly agape.

“W-What do--”

“I know you still think about what I’ve said -- about know-knowing your place…”

“...But now...I-I want you out of that place.”

He tightened his grip around her, pulling her even closer to his chest. “C-Can we try something?”. Hanji quickly glanced at his lips before nodding softly.

“I-In this moment, right now. L-Look at me as me. Not as your employer, Oh Hanji…”

And with that, he closed the mere distance between them by softly attaching their lips to each other. To say Hanji melted would be an understatement -- she could feel her body pushing itself into Hyuk’s as her eyes finally closed to enjoy their moment.

The instrumental of John Legend’s Ordinary People complimented their shared kiss -- soft moans exchanged every now and then as they entangled their lips with open-mouthed kisses.

Somewhere in the middle, Hyuk slightly raised Hanji from the ground by her waist, her chest still pressed against him, twirling her around making them break apart from their kiss as she giggled quietly into his ear.

When he placed her down, he kissed her once more before pulling her into a tight hug with his nose nuzzled into the smooth skin of her neck.

--

Fun Story Fact #16:

Hanji’s silk robe is inspired by one the writer owns.

[queensdivas]

Family Christmas!

Alright Alright! Just got done watching 6 Underground and Jesus so many shorts and fics are coming. But of course after the requests and update on the great mazzello are updated. But doesn’t mean I can’t start the outline!!!

Thank you @not-john-watsons-blog​ for this request cause I thought it was super cute and just in time for the season!!!!! 

If you’d like to request something please do so and if you want to be tagged let me know!!!!

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday this year!!!!! 

Masterlist 

Taglist!

@leah-halliwell92​ @mexifangorl​ @i-live-for-queen​ @its-funny-til-its-not​ @brianmydear​ @bonafiderocketqueen​ @filmslutt​ @queenwouldyourathers​ @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

The House of Christmas

By G.K. Chesterton

This world is wild as an old wives' tale,

And strange the plain things are,

The earth is enough and the air is enough

For our wonder and our war;

But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings

And our peace is put in impossible things

Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings

Round an incredible star.

To an open house in the evening

Home shall men come,

To an older place than Eden

And a taller town than Rome.

To the end of the way of the wandering star,

To the things that cannot be and that are,

To the place where God was homeless

And all men are at home.

Do I regret our elopement? No. Never in a million years do I regret our elopment in Blyth during his tour up around there. But I regret not being able to sit down to meet the rest of his family besides his mother. According to what I’ve seen in his photo albums. He’s got a bunch of aunts and uncles because his family is known for ummm. A lot misfire is exactly what I think is the right word for it. Now one of his Christmas presents I’ve unveiling tomorrow would be considered a misfire to most but to me I’m extremely excited. 

Our three hour drive was coming to an end as we reached his home just right outside Leicester England for some big Christmas Eve tradition that’s been breaking since he started with Queen. Which was three years ago so not only am I meeting most of his family for the first time, and not being around for three years, we’re kind of screwed! 

I rubbed my eyes a little as I sat up in the car to see John was tapping his hands on the steering wheel at the light. Gosh, it was only a three hour drive yet I felt like I’ve been asleep for about two weeks! 

“Well good morning sleeping beauty.” John had his cheeky smile on as I looked over at him to then pull down the visor to make sure I didn’t look like absolute shit. We’re good! 

“Sorry I fell asleep. The car was toasty and you know that listening to really jazzy Christmas piano always makes me relax.” Going into my purse to apply a fresh layer of lipstick. 

“Relax Iris. You look absolutely beautiful.” 

“Yeah well I’ve never had to meet a family before with us being married already so you can understand my nervousness!” Growing up in an orphanage then not being adopted can cause a little different mentality. But no sob story! It’s family time! 

“Iris. They’re going to love you no matter because you’re the only women who has stuck by my side longer than most. Like c’mon you already survived a tour schedule like mine so I knew you don’t plan on making a run for the hills.” 

“That you’re aware of Deaks.” Smirking at him as we turned into the driveway of the house to see a bunch more cars were all lined up. Before we even climbed out of the car he leaned over to cup my face to start leaving kisses all over my lips then trying to make his way down my neck. Going to be honest we haven’t done the deed since I found out because I’ve been getting cold feet, not sure why. 

“John I don’t want to smell like sex meeting your mother.” I pried him off me with a little disappointment groan coming from him. He’ll know tonight and hopefully he’ll understand especially after the idea how I’ll be unveiling this idea. I got John pair of baby shoes, and his mother a cute onsie that says “Grandma’s spoiled angel”. Thought it would be appropriate and hopefully if things go well tonight they’ll enjoy the surprise. 

We climbed out of the car as we heard the house was blasting with Christmas music, laughter, and even the sound of popping champagne bottles. What kind of parties does this family enjoy throwing for the holidays? He grabbed the box of gifts as I wrapped my scarf around my neck as we began approaching the house. Before we walked inside I stopped in front of him as I grabbed the box from him, putting it down on the ground then giving him one long kiss. 

“I love you John. I know I’ve been acting a little funny these past few weeks. I promise it’s nothing you done because you couldn’t do anything. Except when you accidently dropped the coffee machine right next to my feet.” 

“For the hundreth time Iris it was a complete accident!” I always remind him that because seeing him so angry just makes me giggle! I cupped his face again for a quick peck as we saw the light coming from the house. 

“HEY! YOU TWO LOVEBIRDS GET IN HERE!” A women screamed as we let go of each other to then begin our journey into the world of what most people say a family hell hole. Never experienced one of these before so get ready Iris, a cultural shock is about to happen. 

We walked inside the house to see everyone condensed into the living room, children running all around the place, and what looked like an old man sleeping soundly on the recliner. How is that even possible. 

The whole room went dead silent as every single person looked directly at John and I with our layers of coats making us look stuffed. I gulped as I began unzipping my coat till a little girl came running down the stairs. 

“UNCLE JOHN!” She screamed as she wrapped herself around his leg. 

“My goodness Aurora you have grown!” He laughed as an elderly women came out of the kitchen in a minnie mouse apron. She starred down John as she came marching out of the kitchen, even the child walked away from John. Is she his mother? I’ve always been told (by Chrissy) that if a mother doesn’t approve of their chosen girlfriend then it’s game over oh my god! 

She stood directly infront of John as we both looked at her in absolute fear from the fact she might pounce at us! I light wrapped hands around his arm just incase I have to use him as a human shield to protect our child. Sorry John I love you but this baby is a whole lot more important and I know you’d do the exact same thing for me. 

“John. You’ve gotten much skinner.” Ya know what no! If I can carry a baby in my body for nine months then I can handle any mother come at me! Okay! Here we go! 

“Mrs. Deacon. I’m Iris. I’ve heard such wonderful things about you.” Coming from behind John to hold my hand up to her ready to shake it. She looked directly into my soul as she manuvered herself infront of me with a facial expression I couldn’t even read. She gripped my hand then placed her other one ontop of it. Is his when the mother pile drives you into the floor!? Oh dear God she’s going to kick my ass!

“It’s very lovely to meet you Iris. Please come and get acquainted with everyone. And please call me mom because Mrs. Deacon makes me feel so old.” She began walking me through the living room to see everyone making room for his mother and I to sit down. Looking back at John as he just stood there with his bag of presents in complete utter shock. 

“So Iris. I’ll try to quickly introduce everyone before I have to back to into the kitchen to make sure dinner isn’t burned to a crisp. Sitting on the reclriner is great grandfather Phillip. To the left of you is who you would consider your cousin Jessabell and her husband Thomas. They’ve got their children running around here somewhere by the names of Ezekiel, Nathaniel, and Esther. And then to your left is great aunt Piper and great uncle Samuel. Now their children are Booker, Sam, Tara, and then their youngest being Natalie. I’d tell you more but I have to get back into the kitchen.” Trying to remember all these names makes me feel drunk I can’t even drink a glass of wine to help me with this whole meet and greet. God is it weird I kind of need John to bring some sort of easiness at the moment. 

“It’s lovely to meet you all.” I squirmed out of my coat for John to grab it and place it behind the couch. He then sat down next to me as I grabbed his hand as he began smiling and greeting the aunts and cousins. 

“Wheres your family Iris?” I believe Aunt Piper asked if I remember correctly. 

“I umm. Never really had a family till I met your nephew..er if that’s the right word.” They leaned forward in their chairs so eager to listen. 

“Let me guess. It was one of those situations where you rebelled from your parents because of them not liking the beatles.” They laughed as my grip around John's hand went a little tighter. I know this stuff still shouldn't bother me but there’s a reason why I don’t enjoy talking about my past because I sadly don’t have one. But at the same time when I do have to meet family and they these kinds of things, I just enjoy coming directly at their necks with this line. 

“Well I wouldn’t know teenage rebellion since I never had parents.” With the biggest smile on my face as they sunk back into their chairs as I believe Aurora brought us two cups of water. She climbed up on top of Johns lap. 

“Are you my new Aunt?” She asked as I gave her a small nod. 

“Yes. I plan on being the coolest Aunt you’ve ever had in your life!” Grabbing her from Johns lap to put her on mine. I bounced her on my legs a little as she was laughing her little head off. 

“Dinner is ready!” His mother yelled from the kitchen as she darted off my lap into the kitchen. Everyone went into the kitchen as I sat on the couch with my thumbs going in small circles. I’m still extremely nervous and the fact that ham is now the main course and me being pregnant is making me nauseous. And trying to hide this from John is just the greatest idea I ever had in my existence! 

“Feeling better?” Nodding as the smell of that ham slithered its way into the living room and around my nose. My stomach twisted in every possible way but I took in a deep breath to try to hold it back. 

“Iris. Is there something you’re not telling 

“Are you two planning on joining us or run off?” I think that was one of his uncles came into the room as we got up from the couch to walk in. 

I sat down next to his mother as everyone began passing around the serving bowls of mashed potatoes, cranberry, ya know the usual Christmas meal. The rolls were placed infront of me as I grabbed one then the ham appeared before me. Oh boy. I bit the inside of my cheeks to grab one thing of meat and passed it along. Just keep it down! Crap I can’t even have wine to help with the whole stomach thing! 

“So John. How’d you find Iris?” The green beans were next as I scooped some onto my plate as John swallowed his roll he had in his mouth. I think they’ll enjoy our little meet and greet story yet I somehow find it a little embarrasing still. 

“I was out with the boys one night with a few of our first performances. She was at the bar with her friends and I noticed her from the stage. When we got done I started talking to her and well.” My cheeks were beginning to turn red from what was going to come next. 

“This guy came up and was trying to tell me that he already had eyes on her from the other side of the bar.. She punched him in the face when he tried to take my seat.” My hnads covered my face as all the eyes landed on me in complete embarrasment. He kept trying to take his seat what was I supposed to do? Just John get pushed around? Dear God. 

“You punched someone?” His great aunt asked as I slowly nodded my head. I promise I don’t believe violence isn’t the answer for everything. But he was literally going to throw John from his seat and I couldn’t just let that happen! 

“Awesome!” I moved my hands away from my face to see everyone nodding and then his uncle clapping at what I did. Phew. 

“So Iris. What do you do for a living?” His mother asked me as I ripped off a piece of my roll. 

“I’m an art teacher at St. Gerard in Basingstoke.” I began diving into the green beans as the rest of the table began chit chatting. 

“You know something Iris. It’s been quite sometime since I’ve seen John so bubbly and happy. Not sure if he’s told you that his father died when he was young, and when it happened he changed. Became a brand new person who was afraid to get too close to people. But now to see him here playing with his cousins, it’s really wonderful to see him smile. Enough about that depressing matter, you’re an art teacher?” I nodded as I leaned forward to watch John laughing with the cousin that I don’t think I’ve put a name to a face. 

“Yes. At first I just wanted to be an artist for most of my life, but found teaching much more fun.” 

“I used to be an artist. Maybe after dinner we can swap some sketches.” She smiled which made my heart feel all warm. 

“I would love that.”

The rest of the dinner was getting to know his family, turns out John wanted to be a race car driver as a kid, had a very large interest in all kinds of flowers, and threw his cat down the stairs to see if it would land on all fours. It worked of course because that cat lived on to hate John for the rest of his life. While they were telling me this, I could tell John was completely embarrased but I still found it absolutely hilarious. 

“Now John was a lovely child of course, but also extremely sassy which he got from his father more than me. I assume you know about his sassiness?” His mother turned to me as I smirked on his face. 

“Of course. Our first date was to see MASH and when the ticket person asked if he needed two tickets. He straight up told him. “Oh my god you can see her? I thought she was just a figmant of my imagination.” Then did that stupid cheeky smile and the guy almost wouldn’t let us in.” John nodded as his mother chuckled a little as I finished the last of my Christmas pudding on my plate. 

“Alright I say it’s time for presents!” 

We sat down in the living room where himself and his mother sat down with me on the couch as everyone grabbed their gifts. They all began putting their gifts in the middle of the room but no name much be attached, consider it a secret santa yet John and I had no idea. That tends to happen when you’re busy with music and being a primary school teacher. None the less were about to be a very busy family. 

The little girl began passing out presents to everyone as she was eager to open hers and even everyone elses. She placed Johns in his lap as he was eager to open his since his curiosity was going absolutely wild. I was given a small box that even got me a little curious as well because truth be told i wasn’t expecting to get anything from anyone. 

“We want you to open yours first Iris.” His mother told me as everyone was starring at me again. I ripped apart the wrapping paper apart to see it was a jewlrey box which kept me in even more suspense. 

“Even though you just became apart of the family with the rest of us, we’re glad you became apart of it. We thought John was going to grow old alone.” It was a beautiful cameo necklace with a dark gold chain, the pendent was a dark blue with a white marble cut out of a woman on it. I was almost brought to tears as no one in my life has ever given me anything like this before. 

“You..you..you’re going to make me cry.” I laughed a little as I got it out of the box to hold it up. 

“John. Should’ve told me you’re family was going to make me cry.” I laughed as he helped me to clip it as I kept looking down at it. 

“Alright let’s keep going! By the way. I’m cousin Booker from Exeter.” He crawled infront of me as he passed John his gift as he recognized the wrapping paper from our little apartment. The rest of the presents were passed out to everyone as John was in complete curiosity of why giving him the present now instead of on Christmas. His mother had the same wrapping paper as well as I sat there waiting for them to open it. 

We finally made it over to John who was eager to open his box. He tore the wrapping paper to shreds immediatly as I kept my smile at bay as much as I could. He’s not expecting this and I know damn well the rest of the lot isn’t as well! Please find the little shoes adorable please find the shoes absolutely adorable!

He opened the box as confusion waved over him as he picked up the little white baby shoes. Looking at me. Back at the shoes. TO me..the shoes..to me..the shoes! C’mon John I know you’re smart! The shoes dropped as the rest of the room waited for him to say it or for it to finally click! 

“We’re..you..we..” It looked as if he was going to pass out right infront of us till he pratically threw himself ontop of me as everyone began freaking out. 

“I’m going to be a dad!” He smiled as I moved the hair out of his face as cousin Booker pratically pild ontop of us. 

“Now do I get to be the cool uncle or what?” Wait what? That..that’s not how that works..at least that’s not how I think it works. Oh well! 

“Wait get off don’t squish the baby!” John barked as we looked over to see grandma holding up the onsie in front of her. 

“It says Grandma’s spoiled Angel!” Mother cried as I managed to get John off me to see her just starring at it. 

“Hope you enjoy being a grandma!” I told her as she put the onsie on her lap to give me a very big hug!  Her only son to have her first grandchild has completely made the fact that him and I didn’t have a true wedding has been completely forgotten! Phew. 

[squirrel-moose-winchester]

Chapter 19

Pairing: Dean x Reader AU

Word Count: 1844

Summary: With October ending and the holidays underway, that only meant one thing for Dean Winchester. It meant returning to his childhood home and spending time with his family. It meant listening to his parents, especially his mom, ramble on and on about when he was going to find himself a nice girl, bring her home for the holidays, and then eventually get married and have children.  However, Dean wasn’t ready for that sort of commitment, so in order to get his family off his back, he comes up with an elaborate scheme! But like the saying goes, “sometimes lies become truths.”

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Some brotherly teasing.

A/N: Back to the angst again! But don’t worry... it’s the moment you’ve been waiting for. I just hope it doesn’t disappoint. I know the build up was... intense, but i just hope you like it. Thanks for the support and sticking with me! I appreciate it so much! You guys are amazing! Love you all!! xx

The tension in the air was thick and everyone seemed to be on edge. There was an elephant in the room and it made the everything almost claustrophobic. You and Dean shared looks before shifting to Sam and Jess, the four of you communicating silently. Yeah… it was pretty uncomfortable, but no one knew how to begin to ask about what Mary wanted to tell Dean.

John was nonchalantly sipping his coffee while reading the daily paper, while Mary was busying herself by cleaning the kitchen. It made you wonder what exactly Mary had to tell Dean that was so important that he had to leave right after his classes were done. Was Mary hesitating because what ever it was had something to do with you?

Oh god… this was about you… what else could it be?

“I’m sorry,” you blurted. Everyone’s eyes fell on you, not quite understanding why you were apologizing. “I never meant to lie to you or to anyone!” You clenched your eyes shut, lowering your chin to your chest, unable to make eye contact. Dean’s eyes widened when he finally realized what you were going on about.

“Y/N, don’t. Relax,” Dean tried.

“Don’t tell me to relax,” you whisper-yelled, boring your eyes into his before turning your attention to your small audience. “It started out as a fake relationship, but eventually I found out that I’ve always been in love with Dean. Always. And I am so sorry. I hope you would forgive me. I didn’t mean to…”

“Easy, sweetheart,” John’s baritone voice soothed, “calm down, breathe. Tell us what you’re talking about.”

“It’s—it’s nothing,” Dean spoke for you.

“What do you mean—fake relationship?” Sam queried, his interest peaked.

Dean glared at his brother, who shrugged in response. Dean sighed knowing it was too late to turn back now. “Uh… well…” He didn’t know what to say. That was a secret he was hoping to keep to his grave.

“Dean?” Mary dropped her cleaning supplies and moved to the table, taking the empty seat between her husband and youngest. “What fake relationship?” This time her eyes shifted from Dean’s to yours, before back to his. Even John had set his morning paper down on the table waiting for an explanation.

“We’re waiting,” John stated, his domineering voice made you jump.

It was that moment that you began to reconsidered that maybe telling the truth wasn’t such a good idea, but it was too late. Dean slid his hand into yours under the table, giving you some sort of comfort and also seeking comfort from you too. Your grip tightened around his, finger intertwined while you tried to steady yourself and not think about how you had not only opened a can of worms, you picked it up and smashed it all over the floor.

“I lied to you…” you started just as Dean opened his mouth to speak. There was no turning back now. “And I’m sorry.”

“Honey, what are you talking about?” Mary asked, her voice soft and soothing. It held not a single ounce of anger, but you could tell she was confused. Everyone was.

“Thanksgiving. Me and Dean… we lied about being a couple.” All eyes were zeroed in on you and the silence was like knives slowing digging into you. You wanted Dean’s family to like you. You wanted them to accept you. You wanted to be a part of them, but now, you most likely lost all their trust. “I’m sorry. I wished I’d hadn’t lied to all of you. You probably don’t trust me any more and want to kick me out of your family—” Your voice cracked and tears started slowly rolling down your cheeks.

You had never really experience a family like this one. Yours was a disaster. And now you were going to lose the one family you wanted. And if Dean’s family hated you, you were sure that you were going to lose Dean too.

Dean wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, as you buried your face into his chest. Sam was the only one in the family that knew about your past. Sam was Dean’s go-to when he talked about his college life and his friends. Sam knew about Castiel and his family, he knew about Benny who was born and raised in Louisiana, he heard all of Dean’s rants on their cousin Jo, Sam knew a lot.

“Hey, Y/N…” Sam spoke, “we would never kick you out of our family. You’re one of us now. Besides, you and Dean… it’s all real now, right?”

“Yeah, Sammy. It’s all real now,” Dean answered for you.

No one noticed, but John grinned, inwardly proud of his growing family. His kids may be idiots, but still, he was proud. Sam’s found his counterpart, and Dean’s found an honest woman that loved him.

“Well, as long as it’s real now, I don’t see the problem,” John stood from his seat and walking over to you and Dean, placing a hand on your head, softly stroking your hair. “Now stop cry Princess, it’s breaking my heart. When it comes to family, sometimes we fight, sometimes we lie, and sometimes we run away, but at the end of the day, we somehow find a way to make it right. You might have lied, but look at you now. You’ve told us the truth. It’s all going to be okay. We’re not mad. We’re glad. You’re honest, and that’s a respectable trait.”

Dean and Sam were shocked. They had never seen their father so gentle before, other than with their mom. Mary and Jess on the other hand smiled. Mary knew the man John was, and Jess could now see where Sam and Dean got their soft side from. Not from Mary, but John. It was a beautiful family moment.

“Honey,” Mary got out of her seat, planting herself on the little space left on your chair, pulling you into her arms. You hugged her tight. “We love you. And just as John said, you’re a part of this family now. The second I saw you with my son for the first time, I knew you were the one for him. It might had been fake to you and Dean, but to all of us… what we saw was not pretend. It was love. What would have made me angry is if you didn’t end up with my boy. But you did, and I plan to keep you as my daughter for the rest of my life.”

Your heart was overflowing. So much so, that you couldn’t stop crying. Even Dean was starting to get misty-eyed. “Dude! You’re not gonna cry are you?” Sam directed at Dean.

“Shut up!” Dean hissed.

Everyone in the room laughed, you included. All the weight fell off your shoulders and it was bliss. You were overjoyed to know that everyone had forgiven you, and that they were still welcoming you with open arms. This was a family you never wanted to lose.

“Seeing the support of our family, I think now is a good time to give Dean the news. Dean might need us. And with Y/N here, I know he’ll be in good hands.”

Everyone looked up at John. You might have cleaned up then can of worms you opened, but the elephant was still standing there and needed to be addressed. What could it be? If it wasn’t about you lying, then what? More importantly… why was the news for Dean and not everyone? Why would he need comfort from us? Was it going to be bad? You had no idea what to expect. No one did.

“What is it?” Dean asked, taking you away from his mom and settling you in his lap, his arms securely fastening themselves around your middle, almost like a child clinging to their comfort toy.

Mary shared a quick look with John before she motioned him over to something on the counter. All eyes were glued to John as he rummaged through a small drawer, pulling out a large manila folder. You could feel Dean’s heartbeat pulsing against your back – he was nervous, and you were nervous for him.

After John handed Mary the envelop, John took a few steps back, leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest. Mary held the envelop in question against her body, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath. When she opened them, they held a certain strength and determination. She was fearless, most likely trying to be strong for her family, but mostly strong for her son.

“First off, I don’t know if this will be a good or bad thing for you, but just know, we’re here for you. All of us.” No one understood what Mary was talking about, but we all just nodded in agreement anyways.

“If you’re going to tell me that Sam was adopted, I already know,” Dean joked, a defense mechanism of his.

“What?!” you and Jess asked, shocked and believing.

“Dean!” John and Sam reprimanded.

“This is not a joking matter,” John snapped.

“Alright, I’m sorry. I’m just a little nervous I guess. I mean why is this news just for me and not for all of us?” He asked. “Wait… are you trying to tell me that I was adopted?!” Fear instantly flooded his entire body and his grip around your waist tightened more, but not enough to be uncomfortable.

“You didn’t know?” Sam teased back.

“Sammy,” John cautioned, but the youngest Winchester just huffed, crossing his arms and falling back on his chair. Jess scowled at him and Sam quickly settled down.

Mary gave her boys and exhausted glare, shaking her head slightly in frustration. “Dean, you are not adopted. You boys are mine and John’s and I’ve the got videos to prove it. I’ve just got some information to show you.” Mary placed the envelop face down and passed it to Dean.

Dean picked it up, instantly noting the address name. Both your eye brows furrowed when you saw where it came from. 

Lawrence Memorial Hospital.

“The hell?” Dean thought out loud before turning the envelop over to get to the flap. Sam fixated his vision on the address to confirm that it was the same manila envelop he had seen before, and it was. It was the same exact one.

“What is it?” Sam asked eagerly. John gave his son a hard stare making Sam recline back into his seat for the second time. Jess took his hand in comfort.

Dean flipped the flap open and pulled out a few papers, just enough to read a few lines at a time. As you read along with him, your stomach flipped. While Dean started hard at the information given, you looked up, meeting John’s stare first, then going down the line to Sam, Jess, and then Mary, who was still sitting in your seat.

“He—” you started, but you couldn’t finish what you were going to say.

“Ben’s not mine—” Dean muttered.

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Say Something Nice Here!

[megalony]

So many reasons- Part 10

Thank you to everyone for the lovely feedback on my latest Roger Taylor series I hope you all like this part.

Permanent taglist: @marshmallowmae  @langdonzvoid  @butlegendsneverdie  @jennyggggrrr  @luvborhap  @radiob-l-a-hblah  @rogertaylorsbitontheside  @chlobo6

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Series masterlist

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No one in the waiting room dared to ask (Y/n) if she would stop the rapid tapping of her heeled shoe against the polished tiled floor. No one had exactly heard what had been said but they were all waiting for their loved ones for treatment and (Y/n) had clearly been told something distressing. They sneaked glances at her out the corners of their eyes, watching as her elbows rested on her knees. Her hands clamped together and pressing against her mouth to stop a scream from escaping her lips. Tears flush down her face as she felt like she had been waiting for hours when in reality she had seen the doctor disappear less than five minutes ago to see Roger.

Maybe Roger was going to be fine. Maybe the drummer would walk right through those doors in a moment and say he simply fainted or had some kind of reaction to the radiation this time.

Or maybe Roger had gotten worse.

(Y/n)'s head snapped up so fast that her neck cracked from the sudden movement. A searing tingling pain shooting up the base of her neck to her skull as she watched two medics and a nurse suddenly rushing through the doors straight ahead of her. Dr Freeman following behind as he was reeling off orders that were nothing but static noise in (Y/n)'s ears.

Roger.

Her Roger was laid on a stretcher being wheeled between the medics that Dr Freeman was following so closely behind. His eyes had rolled so far back in his head they were no longer visible as he was laid on his right side on the stretcher. (Y/n) couldn't have been sure if Roger was convulsing or just shaking from some sort of shock but either way he was making it harder for them to rush him down the corridor.

He wasn't wearing the plain white shirt he had been when he went through due to the radiotherapy. Showing off the scar and the blotchy rash spreading on his chest trying to cover the whole surface area.

(Y/n) felt sick as she watched the drummer get wheeled past her. Nothing in her life had ever sent such a feeling of horror through each and every nerve she held within her like the sight before her. There was dark crimson blood coating Roger's lips and flowing down his chin, the stretcher he was laid on had a crystal white sheet beneath it. The sheet now stained with blood that was soaking through to the layers beneath. The substance that should have been held within Roger's veins was coating his chest like someone had splashed him with paint.

Every person in the waiting room felt sick to their stomach at seeing the slightly cloudly tube that was placed down Roger's throat which was draining the blood from his body. Everyone jumping in unison when Roger suddenly gagged around the tube, a stream of blood trickling from his lips which left a trail along the floor.

There was a sadness in everyone's eyes at the gut-wrenching sob that crackled from (Y/n)'s lips as her body propelled itself from the uncomfortable waiting room seat. Pushing herself up so she could stumble down the corridor after her husband.

It didn't matter anymore about what had happened between them.

No matter the thousands of reasons Roger had asked and the thousands of reasons (Y/n) had said yes, they were married now. Roger had lied, (Y/n) hadn't expressed that she married him because she loved him. The truth of the matter was (Y/n) would take any of those lies again, she would go through these past few months thousands of times over because the end result was Roger. Despite the lies, they had married each other and they had loved one another, (Y/n) didn't want to lose that so soon.

This was the whole point though.

Roger had married her for the main reason of providing for his daughters in the event of his death. This was the insurance policy Roger had created for this specific moment, and (Y/n) had told him despite the lies if he were to die she would care for his daughters. She didn't realise the magnitude of the situation, Roger's death was never meant to happen, it wasn't meant to be a situation that was on the cards. They were under the impression that Roger could die in the future, not here, not now. Roger couldn't die.

(Y/n) was so close. At the sound that resembled her name through a choked cough around the tube in his throat she tried. She tried to reach for Roger's hand that was dangling off the edge of the stretcher, but they stole him away.

Roger was pushed down a corridor labelled emergency with stickers clearly stated no unauthorised persons could enter. The doors had barely opened before such an amount of blood spilled from the tube and Roger's lips that didn't seem possible. That image was imprinted on (Y/n)'s mind as the last image she had of Roger up to now.

Dr Freeman's arms wrapped around her waist to stop her from running through the doors she knew she was not allowed past. Her hands clawing at his arms to let her past as a horrific scream burned against her throat and lips. They couldn't take Roger from her like this, the drummer meant the world to her, they couldn't let him abandon his daughters or (Y/n) like this. It wasn't fair.

"Mrs Taylor, please... let's sit down and talk."

He guided (Y/n) a few feet away from the door, taking her to a small room on the other side of the hall which was rather small. Containing a sofa and two chairs which (Y/n) guessed was a room for families to have talks like these or have a few moments alone. Sitting down on the chair in the corner, (Y/n) wrapped her arms around her stomach as she began to rock herself back and forth. Roger wasn't dead- yet. He had been fine. Roger had been alright this morning, a little pain here and there but nothing out of the ordinary. So why had he had some kind of reaction like that?

"Roger...?" (Y/n) couldn't find anything but his name to pass through her lips. Just the thought of what could have happened to him made her stomach flip and her heart feel like it was full of stones.

"Your husband's lung is filling up with blood. He is being taken for emergency surgery to stop the bleeding and find out why it has happened because the radiotherapy couldn't have caused this."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ John's hand rubbed up and down (Y/n)'s arm in a rhythmic pattern as his other hand was curled into a very tight fist which was holding his head upright. (Y/n)'s head resting against his shoulder as she didn't move an inch making him wonder if she was asleep, but the small hitches in her breath showed him she wasn't. His eyes were burning from both shed and unshed tears for their drummer who was one of his closest friends.

Brian was sitting on the chair next to (Y/n), his head thrown back so he was staring up at the ceiling, driven to counting the cracks that had appeared and seeing if he could make out any possibly shapes with them like a dot to dot. His legs spread out, feet resting underneath the table in front of him as he slouched in the chair to the point he looked like a plank of wood being propped up against the oddly comfy cushioned chair.

Freddie had been occupying the only other chair in the relatively medium sized room until he announced he was going for drinks. The singer didn't like to be cooped up like this and it was hardly the time for reading a book or a magazine. All of them would usually be rushing around on bursts of adrenaline in the studio, all of them seem to be on springs that wouldn't stop. Yet as soon as the band had arrived at the hospital upon (Y/n)'s frantic call, they seemed like different people. The singer was the only one with bursts of energy but even he wasn't his usual energetic self. Having sat down for two and a half hours doing and saying nothing.

No words passed between any of them because there was nothing that they could say.

(Y/n) had managed to tell them through her state of panic what had happened to Roger and that she had called his sister to look after Lily and Rosie until she could get home to them. There was nothing else to talk about because nothing else but Roger's state mattered.

The room was deathly silent to a point all of their ears were beginning to ring when Freddie re-entered with two murky brown plastic cups in each hand. Silently passing them out before taking his seat once again, folding one leg over the other. Both Freddie and John had only recently learned about Roger's health condition, it had been a lot for them to take in but then for this to happen was like they had been hit by a train.

All four of them sat up straight in their seats when Dr Freeman entered the room. Both (Y/n) and Brian's coffee cups beginning to shake to the point they had to set them down on the table before they spilt them. John tightened his arm around (Y/n)'s shoulders as Brian reached over to take her hand in his own. No one wanting to ask the doctor what the outcome was or what was happening in fear that Roger hadn't made it. The way he had looked when (Y/n) had seen him she was surprised that he hadn't passed away then and there. Her heart couldn't take the news of him passing if that was the case, she would leave before that news passed through her ears.

Seeing that the doctor was glancing between the band (Y/n) nodded her head that they could learn what had happened, she would only have to reiterate his words if they left the room anyway.

"Mrs Taylor... your husband's cancer was broken apart and many cells killed by the radiotherapy which is what we wanted, but part of it had been situated over a main artery in his lung. During his treatment earlier today there was a build up of pressure and the artery burst."

(Y/n) felt her breathing picking up as she tightened her hold on Brian's hand, seeing the guitarist was digging his nails of his other hand into his knee to the point he would soon be drawing blood. A burst artery, they were the vessels that were stronger due to the higher levels of pressure and one had actually burst. Roger had continuously been coughing and wheezing like he couldn't breathe, was that the cause of it? Was his sudden coughing up blood due to this build-up of pressure in his lung? How much pain did that cause for the drummer that he didn't tell anyone about?

"I-is he alright?" John asked the main question that was playing on all of their minds. The band knew it had been serious when (Y/n) had been crying down the phone for them to come and wait with her. Learning this showed just how serious the situation was.

"He's on a ventilator in an induced coma. We had to cut out the mass pressing on his artery which in turn took out part of his lung. He stopped breathing on his own during the operation so the ventilator is breathing for him. All of the blood has been drained from his lung and the artery is repaired, all that we can do now is to wait. You can go and sit with him if you like." Turning her head to the side (Y/n) locked eyes with Brian, seeing him nod that this was the best that they could hope for in this situation.

Roger wasn't dead but he wasn't the picture of health either.

The drummer was in an induced coma presumably due to his lungs giving up during surgery and to keep him from panicking if he woke up and was on the ventilator. At least they were helping him breathe and had repaired the damage that had been done.

"Wait... you cut out the mass, or all of the cancer treatment was meant to get rid of?" (Y/n) questioned. Roger wouldn't be getting treatment anytime soon in his condition but maybe the operation had helped more with that.

"The radiation killed many of the cancerous cells and we took out the mass but there are some cells we couldn't get. Treatment cannot continue for a month or two in the least. We just have to wait for his recovery until treatment can be discussed." Leaving the cancer gave more of a chance that Roger would gain more masses in his lung because they would be able to spread and multiply. But when he was this bad no other option was available. He had had one mass removed and now another and part of his lung taken out too. No more operations would be an option for Roger or he would only have one lung left.

But Roger was alive.

[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

Sweet Bird of Paradox

Sweet as the smell of success / Her body’s warm and wet / She gets me through this god awful loneliness / A natural high butterfly Oh I, / I need, need, need her.

The smells of the private room were dizzying to John. On one hand, a saccharine, citrus incense burned nearby, but the stench of sex was too powerful to mask. As illegal as it was, John figured that more than one man before him had paid a little extra for a little extra. Mixed together, it made sure the senses were overwhelmed by a sort of sweet debauchery, but the overindulgence wasn’t shameful to him. Not yet, anyways.

His calloused, aged hands gripped the armrest of the leather chair tightly as he looked around for a moment, the dim lights of the room making it hard for his eyes to adjust. He was teetering in on the scale around his mid 40’s, and most of his senses didn’t work quite the way they used to. He strained a little harder than he would have 20 years ago to see, and the music of the club just below was fainter than it would be to any 20 year old.

But he could still feel. God, could he still feel. Those hands that had created some of the most iconic basslines of the 70s and 80s, and every inch of skin on the attached body, felt everything.

Immediately following Freddie’s death, it was different story, sure. It was like the nerves had shut off – everything was numb, head to toe. His body desperately craved contact that would spark anything, and so he’d tried everything with Veronica, just so he could feel something. But touching her was like touching a wet blanket – it did mostly nothing for him, and if it did, it slightly repulsed him.

Shame and guilt debilitated him for a while. He couldn’t even bear looking at her, lest he reveal his aversion to her touch, and that purposeful avoidance had brought him here 4 months ago, a sophisticated, hush-hush exotic club where he’d immediately got a private room. He’d went through several girls on the roster before he’d found you. One dance, and his body felt like it was on fire. He was feeling again, just like he’d felt everything years ago. He was young again, and that scared him to no end.

So, he disappeared for a week. But then, he was back again, and asked for you by name every time since. You couldn’t even count on your fingers and toes the amount of nights you’d spent in John’s company. Some nights, you honestly would just sit and chat over a bottle of champagne. He was intriguing to you – never had you met such a quiet, reserved gentleman with so much to say in the middle of your place of work.

And he’d never taken advantage of you, not once. There was an odd sort of bond between you two, an inexplicable attraction, but you’d never even began to fool around with him. It was either a dance, the same you’d given tons of other men, or an in-depth chat that lasted well into the hours he’d pay for. At this point, you could usually read his expression and know exactly what the night warranted.

But tonight was different. As you stepped into the room, clad in a maroon red, strappy lingerie set covered by a creamy silk robe adored with red floral pattern, his face was unreadable. Letting the heavy wooden door shut behind you, you walked over to the minibar in the room, opting for the bottle of red wine tonight to match your lipstick and the towering heels that were adding a good half-foot to your height.

Carefully picking up two glasses with your free hand, you made your way over to the chair where John still sat motionless, following you with his pale grey eyes that matched the aging silver of his hair, which was crew cut and far shorter than his ‘do in the 70s, he’d told you. You did remember long hair being the standard in the 70s even if you were just a kid, so you took his word for it.

John moved his hand so you could perch on the wide armrest of the chair, his usually kind face riddled with conflict. But he still cleared his throat and managed to speak as you uncorked the bottle, pouring two glasses of wine.

“Red tonight?” he asked, his sweet-tempered, somewhat nasally voice making you relax as you realized he wasn’t in a foul mood tonight. Sometimes, he came in and didn’t really say a word for fear of revealing his moods like that, but you could tell through the silence anyways. “I thought you liked white whines.”

“I’m in the mood for a red tonight, is that a crime, John?” you asked, handing him a glass before holding out your own, smiling when he obligingly clinked his glass to yours, both of you taking a sip at the same time. A blood red swatch of lipstick was left on the edge of your glass as you swirled it around, looking down at the silver fox of a man while you draped your legs across his lap. A hand came up to rest on your ankle instinctively, his other still holding the wine glass as he keep his gaze on your face, seeming to be scanning you inside and out. “You’re quiet today. D’you want a dance?”

“No, no,” he quickly objected, and you could swear you saw a ghost of a smile cross his lips as he rubbed circles into your ankle with his thumb, his plain black sweater – or was it brown? You could never tell in this lighting – suddenly seeming to constrict his breathing as he took another drink of the wine before setting it down and tugging at the collar of said sweater. “I actually wanted to ask you something. Or give you a proposition, of sorts. It’s alright if you say no, I’ve just been thinking about it more lately and I wanted to see if the idea held any weight with you.”

John being this serious was nothing new to you, so you nodded along and sipped your wine as he spoke, arching an eyebrow and cocking your head to the side in curiosity afterwards. “What’s on your mind, then?” you asked, the shoulder of your robe slipping to the side and down your arm just a bit. But John’s eyes didn’t wander, not for a moment, instead staying trained on yours as he replied without missing a beat.

“I know you’ve said you don’t like it here before. Some of the men are too rough or go too far, is that what you said?”

“Well, yes, but it’s a living.” You grimaced as you spoke, mainly trying to convince yourself you didn’t hate the work more and more recently as the men got braver and stupider. “Why do you ask?”

“What would you say if I offered to get you out of here?” John’s face was dead serious as he spoke, and you held back a laugh that was bubbling to your throat as you furrowed your eyebrows, realizing he wasn’t joking. Was he proposing an arrangement? “I can put you up in your own place, away from here, pay you weekly, and I’d come visit you there instead.”

“Oh, so you call this visiting me?” you teased, climbing up from the chair and eluding his grasp as you finished off your first glass of wine. Grabbing the bottle of wine by the neck, you poured yourself another one as you focused on the stream of red liquid splashing into the glass. Just beyond that, John still sat there, the same expression as before, cool and controlled. “I bet that’s not what your wife calls it.”

“Not important,” he dismissed, quickly disposing of the topic of Veronica. He’d told you about her months ago – the kids, the separation, the rough patch, his bender, reconciliation, and then now, the stall, the filibuster. And it wasn’t like it bothered you – half of your clients were married men, you had to shed yourself of that morality quick. You just wondered what this proposed arrangement would mean in terms of his family. “I can send you to Bali, Cancun, Hawaii, wherever you want to go. All I ask is that you let me get you out of here.”

“Why?” you asked suddenly, sitting the wine bottle down on the table and standing with your free hand resting on your scantily clad hip as you let the other hand rest down at your side, daintily holding on to the wine glass by the rim. “Why do you want me out of here so bad?”

“Well, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that I’m partial to you. And you deserve to be somewhere that doesn’t make you miserable. Go on, tell me you’re not miserable here and I’ll leave you alone about it from now on, I swear it.” His vowels were getting more and more clipped as his voice was laced with just a hint of excitement, knowing he’d presented a very good point.

Pursing your lips, you scanned your eyes over John’s entire body, starting at the dark leather dress shoes that almost matched the chair he was in, all the way to the collar of the plaid shirt peeking over his sweater’s neckline. Then to his hair, silver strands slowly transforming to a very soft brown-grey at the top of his head, all uniform in length, so clean-cut, like John. And yet, he was an enigma, the least clean-cut personality you’d ever witnessed.

“Alright. What’s the catch?”

welcome to spring break by whitney! i’m on a partial hiatus, so this is what i’ve lined up for my absence. let me know what you think of this one, leave comments, feedback, anything! the brian one will be out tomorrow, and the roger one wednesday - leave notes on the one you like the most, and i’ll chose whichever one seems to be the most well-received to start a new series once TNC is over! have a great week yall <3

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[darlingsdevil]

The Ballads of Rebirth (Arthur Morgan x Reader)

Chapter 3: “Mrs. Morgan”

Masterlist

•••

A/N: thank you all so much for the support! This is the most I’ve ever written in three days, all three parts were written within 12 hours of the last! I’d love to hear more feedback from you guys. And btw, this story is def gonna be more like 10 chapters long haha.

•••

“I’m fine, Charles. I am, now let me go out hunting, you know I’m just as deadly with a rifle as you are with a bow.”

“I know, but we’re bow hunting, it’d be like bringing an elephant into the woods and telling it to go sneak up on someone.” Charles pushed Arthur’s chest into the bed, he fell back with a thud.

“It’s only because you’re still sick. In a couple weeks, I’ll take you out hunting with me, but until then you’re staying here.” And with that, Charles promptly walked out of the tent leaving Arthur annoyed in his bed.

Arthur hated everyone treating him like he was a baby, and he already always hated people fretting over him in general. You would have laughed at everyone’s attentiveness towards Arthur’s health, while Arthur could do little but just sit there and look pretty.

He missed you more and more everyday, Charles and Mahala could see the longing for you in his eyes, it was heartbreaking to watch. Mahala knew nothing of you, Arthur’s past was a mystery, but by the way Arthur spoke she knew he was missing his other half, like a record player that could not play any music.

Even if he missed you, Arthur promised himself he wouldn’t search for you until he was better, which could take many more months.

Mahala estimated it would take around three more months to fully recover if he didn’t relapse. In three more months you could be on the opposite side of the country, it would take so much longer to find you. But he eventually would, he would begin that journey when he was ready.

Arthur was slowly gaining weight if he were to prepare for his journey he would need to first maintain a decent weight. His fevers left him with little appetite but Mahala had kept him on a reliable diet that he could usually keep down. Rabbit that Charles hunted, wheat bread and carrots and peppers. Mahala was a good cook, so Arthur never got bored of his daily food.

It was early in the morning, Mahala usually brought his breakfast in at nine, but she always visited before that. She’d tell him stories of her youth which were surprisingly interesting,her stories were the only thing keeping Arthur sane. He never liked sitting around and being lazy like Uncle, but listening to a story wasn’t exactly just sitting around. Mahala had lots of stories, fables and legends, it always kept him intrigued.

When seven rolled around, and Charles had long been gone, Arthur could hear Mahala’s cheerful humming from outside the tent.

“Rise and shine, my son.” She said, ripping open the tents opening.

“G’morning Mahala. Sleep well?” Arthur mumbled, attempting to sound sleepy. Mahala always got angry when Arthur didn’t sleep in, since he rarely ever slept and if he did it was for very short periods of time.

Mahala gave Arthur a knowing look, turning away from him. She pulled a small vial out of her bag, Arthur groaned. Medicine.

“It’s your favorite,” she said in a sing songy voice, putting some on a spoon. Arthur grabbed the spoon from her nimble hands. He shoved the spoon in his mouth. It was bitter and awful and he nearly choked on it every time.

“Swallow it.” She said sternly, glaring at him. He obliged and felt the viscous liquid fall down his throat. It was his least favorite part of Mahala’s visits, minus the coughing fits and fevers.

She sat down next to Arthur’s bed, setting her bag down next to her. Glass vials clinked in her leather bag, it was old and worn and held lots of medicine for Arthur. He wasn’t sure what he took everyday, never bothering to ask, even if he did, he wouldn’t understand it. It was some sort of herbal mixture, but tasted like it was left out in the sun for hours and had turned rancid.

“Today I want to hear a story from you.” Mahala began after she noticed Arthur had drank the medicine.

It felt like the air had been sucked from his lungs, something he had unfortunately become accompanied with in the last few months. She had never asked of his past. He hadn’t even prepared an answer, expecting . Even if he knew he would never lie to Mahala, knowing she could see through it instantly, he could still avoid the full truth.

“A story about me?” He asked with a light chuckle, sitting up. Mahala nodded.

“Well I’m not that interesting. I ain’t got much to tell.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” She told him.

He thought for a moment, deciding what was the safest to tell, interesting but not risky. She eyed the small gold band on his finger, the only thing besides Charles that anchored him to his past.

“Tell me about her.”

“You wanna know about Mrs. Morgan?”

“Yes. You’ve never spoken of her. Was she dull? Is that why you’ve never talked about her?” Mahala tilted her head in humorous curiosity.

“No, no, she’s far from dull.” He laughed, shaking his head. A small smile splayed on Mahala’s lips.

“She was wonderful, kind and beautiful. A compassionate heart, but boy, if you got her mad you’d better be praying.” Mahala listened to every word he said.

“Once.. once I’d forgotten to lay my socks out to dry and gotten sick from it, she didn’t let me rest for one minute. She was fuming, but she still kept care of me.” It had been years ago, long before either of you had confessed your feelings but he remembered it like it was yesterday. It felt good to speak about you, like a large weight had been pulled off of his chest. He felt lighter.

Mahala laughed at the story, she had never been married, claiming a man could not handle her ideas. A pang of happiness struck her heart, Arthur was like her son, and to see him be open and smile around her was wonderful, but she could still tell he was keeping the full truth from her.

“It seems like she was good for you.”

“Yeah, I think she is.”

“My, my child. Is she alive or dead? You speak of her in different pretenses, I cannot tell.” Mahala, ever the curious cat was incredibly broad, perhaps too broad for her own good.

Arthur let out a heavy sigh, not realizing he’d been holding it in this entire conversation.

“I’m not too sure to be honest. We got separated a few days before Charles found me, Charles doesn’t seem to know where she went. She could be halfway across the country or six feet in the ground by now.”

Mahala pursed her lips tightly.

“You’ll find her, lovers always find a way back to each other.”

“Don’t give me that sappy stuff, Mahala. The world don’t work like that.”

“Believe what you will, but I’m sure you’ll find her. I can see the love in your eyes for her.”

Arthur had heard that from Hosea on the night he proposed to you, after you had gone to bed for the evening and Arthur was still up drinking with the few men who were still awake in celebration. It was right before everything went to shit, and the entire gang was forced out of Blackwater. It was only him, Hosea, Dutch and John who were awake, the true Van der Linde family, the only missing piece was you. Drunk Arthur didn’t remember much of the rest of the night besides that one comment.

“I see your love for her in your eyes. They twinkle more, it’s like you’re finally seeing the bigger picture. A love like that can’t be broken by death, and god knows death comes quickly and often in this life.”

•••

“Lee, can you pick that up for me?” You pointed towards a can of green beans that had fallen down, since you were at the cash register helping a rather moody customer.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He picked up the green beans, and instantly returned to restocking. Lee had been acting strange all day, he avoided your eye and spoke to you only when talked to first. It wasn’t like him at all. You were sure it had something to do with your kiss on the cheek last night. You smiled at the thought of him becoming weak at just a peck on the cheek, it was how Arthur used to be as well at the beginning of your relationship.

Today had been awful, two customers had yelled at you for running out of items and one, you realized later, had stolen multiple cans of food. The general store was already hurting after a newer one had been put up. It was a chain store, so everyone wanted to go see what all the fuss was about. You hadn’t told Lee about the crook who took the food, and you were still deciding if you were going to. You had stolen food countless times while in the gang, it felt so much worse when you were on the opposing end.

When the shop finally closed, it was just you and Lee again. He was still nervous to be around you, moving to the opposite side of the room to ‘sweep’ when you moved closer to him.

Around ten minutes after being closed, he cleared his throat. You look up at him, putting the money you were counting on the glass shelf.

He stared at you with big brown eyes.

“Can I take you on a date, Mrs. Morgan?” Lee asked you with sudden confidence.

You froze for a moment, you eyes staring off at the window behind him. For a second, you thought you saw Arthur, standing there behind Lee.

“I’ll take you down to the restaurant, the one that just opened by the pier,” Lee’s sudden confidence was destroyed by your silence.

You liked him well enough, but were you really ready for that type of commitment again? Arthur was barely dead, you had mourned for him while he was living, since he had pushed you away as soon as he got sick. It was like he was a ghost the minute he had found out about his diagnosis. Arthur did his damn best to make sure you made it out okay, even if it meant pushing you away to keep you safe. Your biggest regret was not staying with him through it all, no matter his protests.

“I’d love to go with you.”

You could finally let go of Arthur, the final thing holding you back. He would have wanted you to move on, to see you happy.

And you were happy right now, you felt contempt with your life for the first time in a long time.

•••

[afteriwake]

Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures (16/?)

So this is the last of the new chapters I have for the moment! Hopefully, I’ll get to finish this one sooner rather than later...

Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures - It all begins with an invitation to Mycroft’s wedding to his PA and seven days at a resort in Jamaica, with the assumption that Molly pretends to be his girlfriend that his mother might be under the impression that he’s going to propose to sooner rather than later. It ends up being so much more than that…

READ CHAPTER 1 | READ CHAPTER 16 | HELP ME SURVIVE? | COMMISSION ME? | BUY ME A KOFI? | MY PATREON

Molly and Sherlock went away for a few hours, enjoying an afternoon to themselves. They got back to their room as the sun was setting, taking turns using the shower and getting ready for the rehearsal ceremony. The other guests were going to be doing something different, but the six people involved in the ceremony needed to be on the beach where the ceremony was to be held. The chairs weren’t set out, but the areas where they would be were roped off so they would know where to go. Sherlock bristled as he saw Sherrinford lingering, leering at both Molly and Amanda, the other female of the wedding party, and he could see his other brother clenching his jaw.

“If he’s here, we know he’s not seeking out information,” Sherlock said, leaning over to his brother to speak to him without the officiant hearing them.

“I know, but the looks he’s giving...”

“Yes, they make me feel ill as well.”

Mycroft sighed. “I had hoped he’d have grown out of his derelict behaviors as he got older but apparently he’s simply gotten more foul. Robert went over what was found in his room. I’m not shocked, sadly.”

“He’s always been a lech?”

“As long as he’s known the opposite sex existed.” Mycroft crossed his arms. “This may pose a problem for some of the newly arriving guests. Your...goldfish, for example.”

Sherlock blinked. “My goldfish?”

“Inspector Lestrade, who is bringing Inspector Donovan as his plus one, and the Watsons. Molly said she felt lonely and you were busy with our brother, so they’re all on a private jet. I felt you would appreciate having both Gregory and John watching over her.”

“Honestly, I do,” Sherlock said as Andrea began to walk down the makeshift aisle. Mycroft uncrossed his arms and smiled at the woman he was going to marry, and Sherlock glanced over at Molly from across the way, who caught his gaze and gave him a warm smile. He was caught up in the sudden image of Molly walking towards him in some confectionery white wedding dress trimmed with yellow, holding a bouquet of flowers with that bright smile on her face.

Yes, he thought to himself. Definitely strong feelings.

Andrea got up to the makeshift altar they were using for the ceremony and the officiant began the ceremony. He was surprised that they didn’t go over the vows, as apparently Andrea and his brother were writing their own and wanted to wait until the wedding to share them. It was over far more quickly than he had expected, much shorter than John and Mary’s wedding rehearsal had been. It made him wonder again what his own wedding would be like as he was starting to gain much experience with different types of weddings.

The rest of the wedding party milled around the end of the aisle while Andrea and Mycroft spoke privately with the officiant, and Sherlock could see both Molly and Amanda glancing at Sherrinford with worried looks, as though they didn’t want him any closer.

“I mean, I can see how you and Mycroft are brothers, but your eldest brother is just a creep,” Molly said, rubbing her bare arms. Sherlock had brought a linen suit for the dinner and took off his suit jacket, draping it over her shoulders. Molly grinned at him quickly before putting her arms through the suit sleeves and then rubbing her arms again.

“I hear he’s been that way for most of his life,” Sherlock said. “It was rather something Mycroft was hoping he’d grow out of, but I doubt he’d planned on seeing him again in person ever again.”

“And you?”

“I barely have any solid memories of him, just rows between him and the rest of my family and a few fleeting interactions.” He put his arms on her waist and pulled her into his arms, running a hand up and down her back to warm her. The night wasn’t cold, but the breeze coming off the ocean wasn’t exactly warm. “I asked about him growing up but Mycroft would snap at me and my parents would change the subject. I know now that he stole money from them, and must have done more to get my brother’s ire more than I ever have.”

“But why is he here?” she asked.

“He told my father it was to repay the money he had stolen and try to make amends, but I doubt there’s any truth to that,” Sherlock said. “He’s on the run from people who want the money he stole from them and the secrets in his head, according to rumour. I still need to talk to Robert about what he found, but I had wanted to give you at least one day of fun in case it all goes to hell in a handbasket.”

“Thank you for that,” she said before leaning in and giving him a soft kiss. He kissed her back and only pulled back when he heard a chuckle from Sherrinford’s direction. He rested his forehead against Molly’s and resisted the urge to roll his eyes as his brother approached.

“Is it true that the best man and maid of honour have to have a fling? It’d be a bit awkward for some people if it was the maid of honour and groomsmen.”

“You’re foul,” Molly said, pulling away from Sherlock and glaring at Sherrinford. “Go crawl back into your hole.”

“Such a sassy mouth for a sweet looking girl,” Sherrinford said with a smirk.

“And she has such great skill with a scalpel that I’d worry about your bits and bobs,” Sherlock said. “Don’t underestimate her, Sherrinford, if you don’t want to lose something important to you.”

Sherrinford appeared to pale slightly and stop in his tracks a few feet away from them. “You would get a bird with bite,” he said.

“I carry a gun and I know how to use it,” Amanda said in his direction. “So don’t think of cornering me somewhere and having a try at me.”

Sherrinford held up his hands in front of him. “Point taken. There are other birds in the coop to have a go at.” He doffed the hat he was wearing towards them and then turned and walked back to the resort.

“What a prick,” Amanda murmured. She nudged Robert and he shook his head, grinning as he pulled out his pack. She got a lighter out of her dress pocket and lit up the cigarette, inhaling for a moment and then blowing out the smoke away from the others. “He gives me the creeps.”

“Me too,” Molly said, leaning into Sherlock. “Don’t you have enough dirt to get him to go yet?”

“Aunt Mildred says we need to keep him close. She’s gathering intelligence and making up the basis of a case to give to your friends,” Robert said. “There are enough people who want him back in England that he can rot in a deep dark hole for a bit while we get the intelligence we need from him, and then we can let him rot at Her Majesty’s Pleasure for a while.”

“That sounds better than having him on the loose,” Amanda said. “I know my sister would be happy if she could kick his arse for a bit first, though.” At Sherlock and Molly’s confused look she ashed her cigarette. “My sister was sent to Russia to deal with his mess. She barely made it out alive, and she’s in forced retirement now. She loved her job with MI-6 and the bastard...” She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. “At least she’s alive.”

“I’m sorry,” Sherlock said. He knew that someone had been injured in the process of dealing with his brother but he hadn’t realized it had led to her needing to retire. He knew, sadly, most agents didn’t live to retire, so as Amanda said, at least she was still alive.

“Not your fault, mate.” Amanda had another drag off the cigarette and then knelt down to put it out. “Never could finish a whole one of those. But when I get the creeps I just need something to steady the nerves.” At that point, they were joined by Andrea and Mycroft. “Andy, how much longer does the creep need to stay?”

“Until Aunt Mildred has things settled. Mycroft has promised Gregory that if he doesn’t get to stay for the wedding Sally can at least stay long enough to have a bit of a vacation. Right?” Mycroft nodded. “Ben is working his magic on gathering the video, Aunt Mildred is sorting out the paper trail so hopefully the rubbish will be gone before the hen night.”

“Maybe sooner if he paws at anyone,” Mycroft said grimly. “Fratricide is an option. Sherlock isn’t the only one who can beat a murder charge.”

“I had Mildred’s help,” Sherlock noted.

“As will I.” Mycroft reached over for Andrea’s hand. “We should head to the dinner now. There may be booze flowing freely and if Sherrinford is snooping...”

The others nodded and they began the walk to the resort, with Sherlock and Molly trailing behind the rest of them. After a moment Molly stopped and looked over at Sherlock. “Is it going to be safe to have Mary here?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” Sherlock asked.

“Well, she has her past and all, and if your brother deals in secrets, Mary has some big ones to keep, even with Magnussen dead. Just because he kept it all in his head...”

“Damn,” Sherlock said, shaking his head. In the happiness he’d felt knowing his friends would be arriving, he hadn’t even considered that. “Mary shouldn’t have to hide in a room.”

“Or maybe she’s here to celebrate after he leaves?” Molly asked. “I mean, she could be hiding just for a day or so, but not the entire time.”

“True,” Sherlock said with a frown. Then he sighed. “Why is this all so complicated?”

“Because it’s typical of the life you lead?” she said with a half-smile. She squeezed his hand. “We’ll all make the best of the situation, but I’ll admit, it’s going to be good to have them there.” She began to walk again, pulling him along, and he allowed himself to be lost in his thoughts for a time until he needed to put a smile on his face and do his best man duties. Then he cleared his mind and went about to the task, vowing to himself that if nothing else, he would not be a burden to Mycroft like their eldest brother was turning out to be.

[ophelialoveshandsomemen]

S.I.M.P.L.E

A story about Dean having the apple-pie life he’s always wanted. As told by Sam’s perspective. Sometimes. Just roll with it, I wrote this for my own fun. Figured maybe all you lovely people could get a shot at enjoying it too!

Disclaimer. All mistakes are mine. The French-Canadian OFC is mine. The WInchester kids are mine. Dean, Sam and the rest of the SPN cast of characters, unfortunately, are not mine.

I believe @justjensenanddean​ owns one of the pics in the collage. Maybe… It was a while ago. Nicely let me know if I should take it down. Or if this is illegal or something, tumblr is still mildly confusing to me.

Summary.  Sam learns some more about his quirky nephews and beautiful nieces.

Chapter 2: Dean’s Magnificent Family of Seven.

Sam dried off his hair, after his luxuriously long shower, with a towel that smelled vaguely of moss and oranges. It made him wonder if his newly discovered sister-in-law leaves the clothes outside to dry or if she actually uses a soap that is scented like moss and oranges. He did see a washing machine when he passed by the laundry room a little earlier, but he hadn't caught sight of a dryer. Louisa does strike Sam as the slightly more old-school type, so it's very possible that she just doesn't have one. He wonders exactly how old Louisa is, anyway? He's pretty sure that there's no grey in her hair and she was running really fast for a pregnant mother of four. But Sam just can't imagine his big brother to have actually married a woman that much younger than himself. Meh, maybe she simply athletic.

As he cautiously exits the steaming bathroom in the house's spacious and well-lit basement, Sam peeks around the corner to see if any of the kids are hanging about, ready to pounce on him. They aren't shy, that's for sure. He sighs a bit in relief, really, until he sees one of the twins, Robert, he thinks, pad over to him from the den where the two older kids are watching, is that The Magnificent Seven? Oh Dean... Sam crouches down to Robert's level. The boy seems to eye him warily, then leans in to whisper in his ear.

"Pweas, come wi meh. Stasie neeeeds ew!"

Sam nods quickly and lets Robert lead him to a nursery on the other side of the basement, where Anastasie was floating above her crib as she whimpered. Sam gulps. 'Not good.' She turned her head towards Sam and his heart fell into the pit of his stomach. They glowed a very faint blue. The same colour as Michael's... Before Sam could have a nervous breakdown about it though, Robert tugged on his sleeve to pull his ear back down to his level.

"Do't orry bout bue eyeses, aways ave 't. Wo't urtuh. Wan ick up!"

Sam, thankfully caught on to the fact that the kid said she won't hurt him and that she wants to be picked up. As soon as Sam grabbed her, her eyes turned a normal dark brown and her weight dropped into Sam's arms. He heard Robert say 'Tank ew.' and 'Come wi meh.' right before he was left alone with his thoughts in the forest green nursery.

What the hell! Don't be what I think you are!

He went and sat with the kids as they watched The Magnificent Seven, trying to figure out how he was gonna bring this up with Dean, when Marie plopped down beside him and said "Uncle Sammy we need to talk."

"Um, okay. What about Marie?" "What you just saw in the nursery. See, Mama was three months pregnant with Anastasie when Dad got possessed by the bad angel." "Archangel, you nimrod!" John-Henry interrupted from his spot under the hand carved coffee-table where he appeared to be searching for something. "Shut up dirt-bag! Anyway, Mama didn't know about the possession and when Dad sho..." "Or who she thought was Dad!" "I said shut it! Showed up Mommy was a bit confused, but sometimes Daddy acts a bit strange anyways. We were all asleep and didn't see him that night. But the next morning when I woke up Mama was in the kitchen crying and Dad was gone. Seems when Mama and Daddy got "reacquainted" the night before Mommy found out about the angel and how he'd given some weird power glow stick stuff to Anastasie." "It's called 'grace' idiot! And it's still archangel..."

Marie stuck her tongue out at him for that. Sam's head is reeling with information now. Between the fact that, apparently, archangels can turn already conceived children into partial nephilim and the fact that Marie used air-quotes and a metaphor for sex at the age of seven, Sam just didn't know what to think.

"Where are your Mommy and " he swallowed, "Dad?" Sam had never had to call Dean a dad. The word suddenly felt foreign on his tongue.

John-Henry shrugs as he lowers the volume on the movie using the remote he'd been looking for. "Getting reacquainted. Usually takes them twenty or so minutes. Unless Dad's been gone a while, then it can take an hour. That's when Marie and me watch a movie."

I shouldn't have asked...

"And Robert? Doesn't he watch the movie too?" " Robbie likes to sleep instead. Or play with the pool balls on the billiards table behind you." Marie answered.

Course there's a pool table. Did I really expect any less? Next up will be a trampoline and a gun range! Jeez!

"Mama's calling! Time for dinner!" "Yippee!" " You coming, Uncle Sammy?"

Sam must have really been out of it. He hadn't heard Louisa calling at all.

"Yeah, I'm right behind you sweetie..."

The whole family somehow settled down and sat at the heavyset, oblong, wooden table in the kitchen. Which was quite cute, in Sam's opinion. Yellow walls with dark blue trimmings and dark pine cabinets that had deer antlers for handles. Bit clashy maybe. But cute. Bright. It looked like a fairy tale cottage had a baby with a hunter's cabin, to be exact. Sam's attention was caught, again by Marie, when she made a comment about hoping that her Dad hadn't put another twin inside her Mommy like he did for the boys. Louisa snorted her juice out her nose, she was laughing so hard. "Honey," she said after, " I'm not sure that can happen twice to the same mama, so I think you're okay for now."

When Sam gave Dean the dude-what-is-she-saying face, Dean rolled his eyes and took a deep breathe before answering.

"Well apparently, some ladies can get pregnant after they're already, you know, pregnant. John-Henry and Robert were born at the same time, but not, uh, made at the same time. It's why Robert is so much smaller than John-Henry and has a bit of trouble pronouncing. He was on oxygen or some crap like that for a few weeks after he was born because he was technically two and a half months premature. But Johnny here was good to go within a day."

"Lord I hated that labour! Everyone buzzing around like headless goats and moaning on and on about how the babies mightn't make it! I ended up throwing everyone except Dean out of the room before the doctor forced himself back in. Which took just long enough for Robert to be born, then Doctor Ominous insisted on delivering John-Henry. I swore to never darken the door of a maternity ward again afterwards and so far haven't broken that oath, either!" Louisa smiled at Dean. "Lucky for me, I have a husband who is more than willing to stay home with me and bring these little ones into the world."

Louisa fondly kissed Dean at that, the kids giggling in the background as they did. Unfortunately, Louisa leaning over gave Sam the full view of her neck which exposed a blooming hickey. Sam shuddered.

"So, Dean was the one who helped with both of the girls?"

Sam both hoped and dreaded that the flippant question would pull a reaction from either Louisa or Dean which would inform Sam about the whole Micheal-gave -my-baby-sister-voodoo-powers thing. He wasn't disappointed. Dean's face immediately fell and Louisa bit her lips, responding " Technically, Michael delivered Anastasie. But now is not a good time to talk about that."

Supper was served by Louisa. A chili con carni made with beef chunks as well as hamburger. It also had sweet corn and some sort of white corn, possibly native corn, in it. Sam had to admit, for the amount of unhealthy cholesterol in this ungodly meat mix, the chili tasted divine. No wonder Dean was slowly but steadily gaining weight in the last eight years. Not that the diner food helped any either. Sometime in between Marie and John-Henry fighting over Lord knows what and Anastasie puking up half of her steak and peas mush all over Louisa's t-shirt, Robert, who was having a lot of trouble finishing his meal, grabbed his plate and silently slid into Dean's lap. That's when Sam noticed Dean's smile return, after the unwanted attention brought on about Michael. Robert settled in and tightly clung to Dean's waist. Dean wordlessly began to spoon feed him, eating his own chili in between hesitantly taken bites from Robbie. Robert never made a sound...

Sam began to wonder if the boy was naturally clingy or if his silent demeanor and slight anti-sociability was an indication to something else, due to being premature.

Supper ended on a anti-climactic note, in all honesty. Louisa carted Anastasie off to be washed, given gripe water to settle her stomach and set to play in the living room/study beside the kitchen. Marie and JH ran outside, having barely washed their hands forehand, and paying no mind to Dean yelling at them to stay in the yard or so help him. Sam sat back, drinking some unlabelled beer Dean had pulled out of the fridge. He chuckled under his breath at the sight of Robert with his shaggy head tucked beneath Dean's chin. Dean is humming Old Cotton Fields by CCR.

"Dean?" "Hmm?" "When did you and Louisa get married? You are married aren't you?" "Yeah, got married back in 2011, on Louisa's 20th birthday, June 10th. Most of her family refused to come cause she was marrying some no name pool stick slinging drunkard who drove a muscle car and was a little too handy with a shotgun for her mom's liking." Dean's pensive for a moment. "You know, in the end, only her dad and her oldest sister with her family attended. And two of her friends from college, they were the bridesmaids. Got married in a little Catholic church up in North Dakota, where Louisa's from. Legally, we're not really married, since the government thinks I'm dead. Louisa just changed her name." He huffs." Said my name was sexier than hers. Anyways, the priest was so old, he agreed to bless our wedding without the permission of the bishop. Or a marriage licence."

That answers my question about Louisa's age then...

Sam smiles at the thought of his brother, standing at the altar, watching as his bride marches radiantly down the aisle.

"So, her family hated you." Sam laughed "Who would've guessed that?"

Dean chuckled at Sam's sarcasm.

"Bitch." "Jerk."

"I wish I'd been there with you." Dean visibly tightens his hold on Robert, who had fallen asleep a while ago, drool pooling on Dean's t-shirt. "I wish you'd been there too, Sammy..."

Louisa steps back in at this point. She ushers Sam and Dean, still holding his sleeping child, into the living room. Louisa snuggles into Dean's side on the relic couch from the 60's. Sam lounges quite comfortably on the green plaid, cotton upholstered recliner nearby.

Not a word was said for the rest of the evening.

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