#who knows? maybe if elle stuck around longer we would have found out she had a family member who she witnessed having very similar episodes

[frankiebirds]

anyway: last thing about the fox.

I think the order in which the team reacts to frank fielding* hurting himself is pretty interesting.

Gideon and Morgan are first, simply because they're the ones closest.

Hotch and Elle are next, with Elle a little behind...

But when it comes to actually restraining Frank, Elle, who is still new and less experienced, lingers behind. If you watch the scene carefully, she actually backs away, too.

And finally, Reid stands at the very back. He enters the room but doesn't go any further, and the camera pans down to show him rocking back and forth on his feet, like he can't decide if he wants to run into or out of the room. I think it's possible that Diana self-harmed at some point in the past (although granted, the self-harm in this scene is a different "type") and he may have been having some unpleasant memories.

*the brother of one of the victims, who goes to her house despite her husband not wanting him there, is seen by her through the window, and thinks she mouths "go away" at him when she actually mouths "help me"

[fandomflail]

title: Recognition (7/8)

rating: M

summary: Soulmate trope AU. Set in a world where humans and elves coexist.

a/n: The whole fic has been edited, and this Chapter was posted somewhat 2 years ago, but I’ve now revamped it, it’s twice it’s original length and basically, just different. so yes, this is a legit update! and chapter is currently being edited so we’re almost there! Also, thank you kmomof4 for your encouragement. And galadriel from Ao3 for reading everything I’ve ever written and leaving a comment. This one is for ya’ll. 

Past Chapters: on AO3

_____________________________

CHAPTER 7: Rattled

When she had first laid eyes on him, there was no mistaking Killian was an elf of quality lineage. With his sharp jaw line, piercing eyes, and tipped ears, he was the embodiment of a dashing elf.

However the night he came to pick her up for dinner, less than a week after the embassy dinner debacle, Emma would have never have guessed the man was elf.

His hair was artfully mussed, covering his distinctive pointed ears. He was dressed in a dark leather jacket, a dark blue dress shirt and dark jeans. Perhaps it was the jeans, a vintage human clothing that was all the rage across fashion spreads, that cinched the look, but Emma had been stunned into silence when she’d seen him.

He simply flashed her a cocky grin, as if he knew exactly how good he looked. “I know, Swan,” he had said, even though she hadn’t said a word.

She glared at him, but the effect was lost when she dove in for a kiss to show her appreciation.

“Seriously? You’re supposed to kiss after the date,” Henry complained, even though he was grinning.

“Mae g’ovannen, lad.”

“What do you know about kissing?”

“Mae g’ovannen,” Henry responded, ignoring her.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay alone?” she asked, deciding to have that conversation with him later.

Henry rolled his eyes, making a ‘go’ motion with his hands. “Yes, mom, I’ll be fine, bye, go enjoy yourselves.”

She shook her head at him, linking her fingers through Killian’s. “Okay. Holo me if anything comes up, okay?”

“Yes, mom. Bye!”

As the door shut behind them, she could feel Killian laughing next to her.

“Oh shut up, just you wait.”

His laughter went silent abruptly, as she realized what she said.

“Emma?” he asked, the question hanging in the air.

“No! I mean, no, not that I know, no I just meant… not that.”

He nodded slowly, blinking, even as his eyes darted to inspect her flat stomach. His long lashes danced across his cheeks, before he exhaled lightly.

“Ready for a night of debauchery, Swan?”

“Are we buckling some swash or something?”

He laughed. “Something like that.”

* * *

“He took you on a cruise?”

“He did,” she confirmed, unable to stop the stupid grin on her face. “Up and down the river.”

“Damn, girl.”

Emma shrugged, sipping her vin in order to stop smiling.

“You’re really happy,” Ruby breathed out.

“Why the tone of surprise?”

The red-headed woman laughed, signaling to the waiter for a refill.

“It’s you, Emma. I love you girl, but you’re not exactly the warmest human this side of Alamané.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“So when do I get to meet him?”

“Woah, slow down,” Emma said, flicking a peanut at Ruby.

In a show of her excellent reflexes, Ruby caught it with her mouth, chewing on it with a shit-eating grin.

“Show off,” Emma muttered.

“Anyway, like I was saying, when do I get to meet him? It better not be on the wedding day itself!”

“For goodness sake,” Emma grumbled.

“Emma,” she whined, “you’re not answering the question.”

“He’s a little shy,” she hedged. No one knew she was dating an elf.

“I’m your best friend!”

“That’s debatable.”

“That’s rude.”

“Bite me,” she said, only to roll her eyes when Ruby grabbed her hand and bit it. The woman was an animal sometimes.

“I would love to join in on this little soiree,” a man’s voice pipped up beside them, sliding onto the open stool next to Ruby.

Emma turned to tell him off when the words died on her tongue. He was an elf. Not that being creepy assholes was limited to the human species, but it was rare to see.

He smiled. “I do have that effect on women, elf or human.”

“The only effect you’ll have from this conversation is my shoe in your arse,” Ruby said, with a cheerful tone that promised pain.

“Feisty, I like it,” the elf said, standing to face them. “and you, my lovely blonde vixen, look familiar. Have we met?”

She hadn’t been introduced formally to elvish society. She lived pretty much on the ‘human’ side of Alamané. It was unlikely that he’d ever seen her, as she’d kept away ever since that night in the embassy.

“You’re not even meeting us now,” Ruby snapped, clearly not in the mood for random hookups tonight.

“And if you decide to ignore her, you’re in for pain. And not the good kind,” Emma added.

“What a pity,” the blonde haired elf drawled, chocolate eyes twinkling at them.

“Yeah sure, bye,” she said, turning her stool to ignore the amused elf.

Ruby was glaring mutinously at the back of his head.

“You okay?” Emma asked, eyeing her friend. Ruby wasn’t usually that rude or standoffish.

“I’m not a racist,” her friendly said quietly, “but lately there’s been an influx of policies that seem to favor elves. I’m just a little pissed with the whole I’m a victim card they’re pulling.”

“What do you mean? How?”

Ruby leaned closer, speaking almost directly into Emma’s ear.

“A lot of it has only been tabled, nothing official. You know it’s my job to read Senator Katherine’s documents and brief her, right? A lot of it is…problematic. Apparently the elves think humans need to be limited to one child a family, because we’re overpopulating the planet. And because the Republic works on a representation basis, it means more humans in the Senate than elves. They’re worried about their interests.”

“Would that be bad?”

Ruby sat back with a sigh, keeping her voice low.

“I’m not saying we humans don’t need better family planning. Clearly some ancient practices of the First Voyagers has stuck around. But this is where it starts. They’ll say let’s stop them from having more children, then it’ll be let’s decide who gets children and so on.”

“Come on Rubes,” Emma cajoled, “they’re just holding humans accountable.”

“The problem is they still act like we just landed on this planet. It’s been 4,000 years!”

“It’s only been 6 generations for them. Isn’t the oldest elf like 900 years old or something?”

“Whose side are you even on right now?”

Emma blinked. Even if she hadn’t just found out about her elvish issues, she would have still had made the same remarks. It was objective, wasn’t it?

She stretched her neck, soothing the muscle with her palm before looking at Ruby.

“I was just saying, is all.”

“Whatever, let’s talk about something else.”

* * *

The breeze was strong up in the penthouse, the clear blue of the Vistula River reflecting the city in its waters. Emma shut the balcony door, leaning against the railing as she took in the city view. Three months had passed in a blink of an eye.

She fingered the chain hanging from her neck, finger dancing in and out of the ring Killian had given her. She could see the desperation in his eyes to accompany the gift with three words, sacred in both English and Elvish, but something about her expression must have stopped him.

And she had wanted to encourage him, perhaps even say it first, and yet…she had faltered, the words dying in her throat in an overwhelming tide of emotion.

He’d taken in it stride, though he couldn’t hide the light dimming in his eyes. It had been the same when she’d been sick two months prior, and he’d hesitantly given her a pregnancy test, only to softly smile at her relief at the negative result. A fake smile, one that said despite his insistence that she was right about a goddamn baby complicating everything, he still wanted it badly.

The weight around her neck had only been there a week, but Emma could no longer imagine not having the comforting presence of the ring resting in the valley of her breasts.

She sighed, taking in the city.

None of Liam’s search had yielded results about her parents. She wondered if they had died, or maybe, truly hadn’t wanted her. Killian was adamant that she had been sent away for protection, but the longer the fruitless search went on, the harder it was to deny that maybe she really was an unwensket.

“What are you thinking about?” a voice asked her, making her jump.

She turned in surprise, the heir to the elven kingdoms walking up to her soundlessly. She hadn’t even heard the door open.

“Stuff,” she responded eloquently.

“Stuff,” Liam repeated, with a bemused smile.

“Stuff,” she affirmed.

“You looked like you were brewing a storm just from your thoughts. Mother used to say that, especially when Killian threw tantrums.”

“He threw a lot of tantrums as a child?”

“What are you talking about, he’s still throwing tantrums.”

“No, now he broods and sulks in corners instead,” she said, laughing at Liam’s little grin.

He rested his forearms on the balcony, looking out in the same direction as she was.

“True. So why are you emulating him?”

“Just thinking.”

“If you say stuff…”

She laughed, nudging him with her shoulder.

“I know I got mad before, but I do want to meet my parents. I mean, I have so many questions.”

“I can only imagine. Unfortunately, it seems like they don’t want to be found.”

“That’s the thing I’m worried about. I mean, I got cycled into the human system. But it shouldn’t be that hard to fish me out from it, if they really wanted to, right?”

“Except it’s not like you stayed in Nysno. Or that we’ve broadcasted your origins.”

“I know, I know. I was moved, I travelled too far, they may have given me a human last name instead of whatever my elvish name is. I know,” she said, ticking off the possible reasons from her fingers.

“Actually… come to think of it… Emma is the human version of Ardhoniel.”

She stood straighter and cracked her knuckles. “Are-thonn-ee-ell? That doesn’t sound like Em-ma.”

“It’s the meaning, not the sound that is translated.”

“What does it mean?”

“Universe.  All encompassing. Everything.”

“Hmm… I don’t know about that.”

“I know you’re Killian’s everything,” Liam said, not a trace of irony in his tone.  

Despite herself, Emma found her face flushing. “Umm,” she said, “it’s only been a few months.”

“Short yes, but you’ve got the universe backing your claims.”

She sighed. Liam, despite his non-Recognition union, was a strong believer in the fates of true love or whatever.

“We’re still learning one another.”

“Oh please, you’re both madly in love yet dancing around each other despite being together. It’s maddening.”

She ran her fingers through her hair, quickly braiding it so the wind could no longer torment it.

“And to think, you first hated me.”

“You grew on me like moss on a damp forest tree, what can I say,” Liam teased.

“That almost sounded complimentary, you’re losing your touch.”

Before Liam could respond, a loud, insistent rapping on the glass door sounded. They turned in unison to see Killian, a big grin on his face as he held up a glass of mulled vin. He had insisted on remaking their mother’s old recipes.

The door slid open, and Killian poked his head out.

“What’re you two doing out here?”

“World domination plans, little brother.”

“It’s younger, not little, there’s nothing little about me, and two, Elsa is challenging Belle to some kind of trivia competition and I think Belle is winning. You better go referee.”

Liam rolled his eyes in exasperation, shaking his head conspiratorially at Emma.

Killian stepped out, two goblets in his hand.

Liam swiped the one his younger brother was just about to bring to his lips, earning a loud protest and an ensuing tug of war that ended when Liam warned that the liquid was about to spill.

Emma laughed as Liam used that opportunity to tug it neatly out of Killian’s grip, absconding with the mulled vin.

“Asshole,” Killian muttered, glaring at his brother’s smirking face behind the now closed glass door.

“Elves really are no different than humans, you know,” Emma said.

“Yeah, they’re all assholes.”

“Oh, stop being grumpy and let me taste it.”

Turning to her, he visibly brightened as he thrust the goblet in her hand. The nervous, excited energy she could feel from him was sudden and all encompassing. Emma felt a rush of adoration sweep through her as she met his wide blue eyes.

Emma took a delicate sip. It was surprisingly good - fruity, rich and potent.

“Impressive, Your Highness,” she teased.

“Really? It’s good?” He coughed, clearing his throat, “I mean, of course it’s good.”

She rolled her eyes at him, “Yes, it’s good.”

“Anyway, more importantly, do you know what just happened in the kitchen?”

She sipped her wine, nodding at him to continue as her eyes darted to see what could possibly be going on inside. Henry and Gracie were playing holo games. Belle and Elsa were moving their hands animatedly, seemingly talking over each other, while Liam watched like he was a hummingbird undecided between two flowers. Jefferson was the only one in the kitchen.

“What did Jefferson do?” She asked, as Killian said nothing, merely grinning at her madly like he was waiting for the ball to drop.

“Oh, not what Jefferson did, love, but Belle.”

“Belle?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Well, are you going to tell me or what?”

“She asked him out for dinner.”

“She what?”

“Well, more like…” he bit his lip and squinted, “more like, she asked him to dinner tomorrow to discuss something that came up during Gracie’s tutoring.”

Emma groaned, “That is not asking someone out.”

“You just had to be there. Context is key.”

“I didn’t even know Belle liked Jefferson. Oh wait, did he say yes?”

“Of course he said yes.”

“Huh,” she said, peeking another look at the elf in the kitchen.

“What?”

“He’s I mean he’s not… he’s fine with humans, obviously, but um, he’s never struck me as the kinda guy who would date a human. Not that it’s a date.”

“Darling, elf or human, he’s not exactly the most pekný.”

“Pek-what?”

“Pekný,” he repeated, “which is like… being pleasant. Personable.”

“Oh, well yeah, that’s an understatement.”

Emma put her glass down on the ledge, and moved forward to nip at Killian’s lips. The ease of which she could do this, and the sheer comfort it brought her would make her head spin if she thought about it too much, so she simply didn’t.

Before he could escalate their kisses, a shrill alarm sounded from his holo.

“Výstraha! Výstraha!”

They both looked down as Killian straightened his arm out. Výstraha was a warning call, and use of the holo in such a manner was regulated for emergencies only.

A string elvish words followed that warning in panicked, hurried, tone that Emma did not understand. She watched as Killian’s body immediately tensed, his eyes darting around, and was not startled when he grabbed her arm and pushed her inside the penthouse.

“Liam!”

But Liam had already moved towards them. Anticipating her question, Liam looked at her, with his brow furrowed and body tense, face one of shock.

“There was an attack,” was his explanation.

“At the place,” Jefferson clarified, and before she could ask, he said, “The King is dead.”

[mitchmarnier]

i don’t want to spend another christmas without you 

pairing: eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier [reddie] word count: 5,623 summary: richie tozier turned his back on derry and most of his life after graduating high school and never looked back. what happens when after three years, richie must finally return home for the holidays? ⤹ written for @richiebeepbeep as their gift for the @itfandomprompts 2019 secret santa event! i hope you like it! 

read on ao3.

perma taglist: @jwilliambyers, @eddiekasbpark​ @stanleuyris​, @appojoos​, @s-s-georgie​, @chaotickaspbrak​, @eddiefuckinkaspbrak​, @edstozler​, @emgays​, @anellope​, @thorn-harvester-ven​, @wheezyeds​, @vipertooth​, @tozierking​, @billdenbrough (also let me know if you want added!)

Richie was not coming home for the holidays season. He never wanted to face Derry again, he lived in California now. He was happy there, that was where his life was, his apartment, his future. He simply could not face the life he had left behind three years earlier. Left vowing he would never return unless under the most desperate of situations. It had worked thus far, Richie always managing to come up with some sort of excuse when breaks from school had come around. Too much school work, doing summer trips abroad, having a his full time job and being unable to time off. He knew every time he told his mother he wasn’t going to make it that it broke her heart a little bit more. He almost dreaded the day she stopped asking him almost as much as he longed for it. 

There wasn’t much getting out of it this time, though, he knew. His sister had made it clear enough, with a short but firm text message, explaining all about how its her first Christmas since getting engaged and how Richie hadn’t even met Bryan yet and how he was breaking their mother’s heart and Richie felt guilt deep in his bones as he promised Elle that he’d be there this year. 

So now he was getting off at the Bangor Airport and his palms were sweating, his heart had been racing in his chest faster and faster the closer he got to Maine. His knees were shaking as he walked through the airport, looking for his family. His stomach jumped as his gaze caught sight of somebody who was clearly here for him, though the last person he would have expected to see.

“Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie cried, breaking into a sprint on his still shaky knees. He had missed his friends as much as his family, with a deep ache that he spent the majority of his last few years buiring deep inside of him by keeping busy and not giving him a chance to think about them. He’d kept in light contact with them, but he knew that he’d been shutting them out. And he knew that they knew it, too. 

Richie launched himself at Eddie, jumping up into his arms and wrapping himself around him koala-style. Eddie let out a loud and annoyed noise, but Richie could hear the laughter underneath it. “Goddamn it, Richard.” Eddie grunted and wrapped his arms around Richie’s waist to help hold him up. “You’re fucking six teet tall, what the fuck. Get off me.”

Eddie’s arms squeezed tighter around Richie’s waist in contradiction of his own words and Richie smiled against his best friend’s head. He finally dropped down with his feet on the ground, and found that his knees were no longer weak. He beamed at Eddie, reaching out to pinch his cheeks. Eddie swatted his away, cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “What brings you to this lovely airport, Eddie my love? Thought my old man wanted to pick me up and lecture me whole way back to Derry about what a terrible son I’ve been.” 

Eddie shrugged one shoulder, smiling down at his feet for a moment. “You know how your parents get right before a party, all stressed and manic. I volunteered to come get you, and don’t worry. I can still give you a great lecture about what a piece of shit son you’ve been the last couple years. And friend.”

Richie grumbled under his breath and stuck his hands into his jean back pockets. “Yeah, I feel like I’m going to be heading on the Richie Tozier apology tour.”

“It’s the least you can do.” Eddie said a little sharply, but his cheeks were still pink and his eyes were twinkling as he looked Richie up and down. “But don’t worry, you’ll have lots of time. Everybody is gonna be at the party tomorrow night, you can stand up and make a giant speech in front of the whole damn crowd if that’s still your style. Let’s go get your bags.”

“Oh, I didn’t bring any bags.” Richie said with a shrug.

Eddie’s mouth dropped open, and he blinked at Richie a few times before he furrowed his brow. “You’re here for two weeks? And you didn’t bring a single bag? Nothing? What are you supposed to wear?”

“I have clothes and shit back home!” Richie waved off Eddie’s concerns. “Nothing to worry about, Eds! Now show me to that Kaspbrak love wagon.”

Eddie rolled his eyes but allowed Eddie to wrap an arm around him and guided them outside into the chilly Maine air. Richie shivered brutally the moment he reached out into snow flurries, and let out a mildly horrified noise from the back of his throat. “Oh, fucking Maine. I’d forgotten. Please tell me you parked close, Eddie.”

Eddie chuckled, and tugged a woolly hat with a pom pom out of the pocket of his featherdown coat and reached over to stuff it onto Richie’s messy curls. “Awe, poor California boy can’t handle the cold? Forgetting your roots?”

“Listen, man.” Richie said through chattering teeth as Eddie linked arms with him and guided him quickly through the overly crowded parking lot. “I’ve barely even wore a sweater in the last three years. I was a l-l-l-egend in Cali, dude! I went sw-swimming in mid-winter while people st-st-arted at me like I was a lunatic!” 

“And now you’re shivering like a little bitch and stuttering like Bill Denbrough aged 12 in Maine.” Eddie chuckled, dropping Richie’s arm to move over and unlock the car doors. Richie tugged frantically at the passenger seat and dove into car. He buckled up quickly, knowing Eddie would demand it, and pulled his legs up to his chest. He wrapped his arms around them and pressed his face into his knees. 

Eddie dropped into the driver’s seat and seemed to take his damn time turning the car on. “Turn the heat on, turn the heat on.” Richie cried. “Please I’m going to die!” 

“You’re not going to die.” Eddie turned the car on, shaking his head. “You’re so fucking dramatic, Richard.” 

Richie shivered, holding his legs as close to his chest as he could manage without completely folding into himself. “Heat… please I beg you.”

“What if I told you the heater is broken?” Eddie asked, starting to pull out of the parking lot and getting caught up in a long line. Richie let out a distressed noise that almost sounded like a sob and Eddie’s heart tugged in his chest. “God, Rich, I’m just kidding. I wouldn’t let something in my car stay broken! Who the fuck do you think I am?”

Richie sighed as Eddie reached out and kicked the heater up. Richie sighed, and by the time they were finally pulling out of the cramming parking lot he’d let his legs down onto the floor of the car and was filling up with nerves once again. “So are we allowed to put on music or would that be too distracting from the lecture you’re going to give me?”

Eddie sighed, tapping at the steering wheel. “I’m not going to lecture you, Richie. I get it… mostly. I don’t really like coming home to Derry, either. It wasn’t a great place for any of us.” Eddie glanced at Richie from the corner of his eye and shook his head. “But we didn’t all have a family that as good as yours, Rich. And we didn’t cut each other out, either. I don’t know what happened, Richie. It’s like you cross over the Derry town line and you straight up forgot that everybody here existed.”

Richie sighed and leaned his head against the car window, though the chill stung at his skin. “I didn’t. I thought about you guys everyday.” 

Eddie was quiet for a moment, fingers still tapping the steering wheel as they drove down the dark highway. Despite how busy the airport parking lot had been, the highway was nearly empty aside from them. “I spent a while wondering if maybe I’d done something wrong… after everything that happened senior year. If I’d made you hate me.” 

Richie closed his eyes, brain dragging up all the things he didn’t want to remember. The things he’d pointedly kept from his mind over the last three years. Eddie Kaspbrak under the lights at prom, Eddie Kaspbrak’s lips on his in front of everybody at their graduation, Eddie Kaspbrak’s tears when he told Richie they couldn’t be together because distance would ruin their relationship and their friendship. “I don’t hate you, Eds.” Richie said softly. “I could never.”

“I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.” Eddie chuckled. “Because I wanted to hate you. Somedays I did. Most of the time I just missed you.”

Richie’s heart clenched in his chest and he clenched his fingers sharply against the meat of his thigh. “I’m sorry, Eds.” Richie squeezed his eyes shut, leg shaking underneath him. This isn’t his strong suit, talking to people like this. Being open in any sense of the word had always been Richie’s deepest struggle. It had likely been the reason he hadn’t bothered to fight for him and Eddie in the first place. 

“I wanna say it’s okay, but it’s not really.” Eddie shrugged one shoulder and kept his eyes on the road. It was starting to snow harder, getting harder to see through, and Richie wondered for a moment about how he’d forgotten that snow was beautiful when you weren’t freezing. His gaze slid from the front windshield and he looked at Eddie, knowing that he found him more beautiful than he would ever find snow. 

“I get that.” Richie said. “Honestly, I’m surprised you’re even bothering to see me. I definitely didn’t expect you to be coming to my parents party tomorrow.” 

“I’ve gone to your parents’ party every year, Richie.” Eddie said simply with a shrug of his shoulder and half a smile. “I helped you set up every year in high school and I wasn’t about to stop just because you were being a dick to everybody. It’s always been the best excuse to get away from my mother during the holidays, as much as it pissed her off.”

“I always thought you liked it so much because it pissed her off.” Richie said with a small smile, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth to hide his smile. Eddie’s lips twitched up in hint of his own grin, though he made no move to confirm or deny it. “I always sort of thought that’s why you spend so much time with me, to be honest. Nobody ever got under her skin like I did.” Eddie’s gazed jerked to look at him, something deep and worrisome in his eyes. Richie’s heart started racing in his chest, and palms began to sweat. “You know, the only time she ever got along with me was when I was giving her the good dick. A very serious love-hate relationship.”

“God, you’re fucking disgusting!” Eddie cried, letting go of the wheel to smack Richie in the arm. “You actually haven’t grown out of Your Mom jokes? You’re twenty-one man!” 

Richie shook his head and let out a soft huff of a laugh. Silence settled in the vehicle and Richie wondered for a moment if he’d be able to open up the door and roll out. He cleared his throat and scratched at the back of his head. “So… your mom is still the worst then?”

Eddie rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated groan. “As if she’d ever be anything less than terrible.” He said. “You know what he’s like. Every time I come home she spends the entire time crying and whining and begging me to stay. That I shouldn’t go back to school, that I’m sick and she needs to take care of me. The usual bullshit.” 

Richie frowned at his hands, shaking his head. Not for the first time, Richie Tozier wondered at the strength of Eddie Kaspbrak. Richie had known many brave and amazing people in his life, but he didn’t think anybody would ever be on the level of Eddie. Eddie, who could walk directly into the face of abuse and hold his ground and still be the kindest person he’d ever had the honour of knowing. 

“Thank you for coming to pick me up.” Richie said quietly, pointedly staring out the front windshield even as he could feel Eddie watching him from the corner of his eye. “And thank you for not hating me.” 

“I could never hate you, Richie.” Eddie said. “Trust me. I tried. Unfortunately, I think caring about somebody for 16 year is hard to turn off.”

“Yeah.” Richie agreed. He grabbed his phone from the pocket of his jeans and began fiddling with the car radio. Eddie chuckled at him, and Richie finally managed to hook his phone up to the bluetooth. Smiling, he clicked onto his private Spaghetti Songs playlist and hit shuffle. He hadn’t listened to this playlist in a  ages, but he’d never had the heart to delete it. The smile that broke out on Eddie’s face as Cut to the Feeling by Carly Rae Jepson started playing made Richie overly happy that he never got rid of it. 

They spent the rest of the ride in a comfortable relaxation, singing along to the gushy and lovely pop songs that weren’t usually Richie’s type of music but he couldn’t deny the little bubble of happy they gave him whenever he reminded hearing them for the first time and being reminded of Eddie. Nor the bubble of fondness he got in his chest when looked at Eddie and watched him sing along to every single one.

They pulled into Derry and Richie felt the panic begin to settle into his chest once again. His leg started bouncing and he felt that the air in the car got heavier. When they pulled into the Tozier’s driveway, Richie felt that maybe he’d been cemented to his seat. Eddie turned off the car and unbuckled, opening the car door before pausing. He slowed the door slowly and turned to Richie with a small frown. “Rich?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Richie said, staring blankly ahead and now biting at his thumb nail. Eddie’s hand reached out and wrapped around Richie’s wrist, pulling it away from his mouth and holding it in his lap. Richie turned to look at him slowly, and thought maybe this was the first time Richie was really looking Eddie since he’d picked him up. He’d grown his hair out since the summer after high school, curling around his ears and the base of his neck. His face was freckled even with the darkness that came with winter and his shoulders had definitely broadened. He wondered randomly for a moment if Eddie still ran.  “I’m fine. I just… need a moment.”

Eddie pulled Richie’s arm into his lap and rested against the seat of the car. “Okay. But I’ve already turned the car off so it’s about to get really cold in here and you’re a little California baby now.” Richie reached over and flicked Eddie in the ear. Eddie swatted at him with the hand that didn’t have a tight grip about Richie’s wrist. “And I can see Alex’s face in the window, so she knows you’re here.”

Richie looked over and sure enough, he could see his little sister peering out from between the curtains. His stomach tensed with anxiety as his heart leapt with love. “Alright.” He said with a soft sigh. “Let’s fucking get this over with then.”

“That’s the spirit.” Eddie said with a laugh. He patted Richie on the shoulder twice then ducked out of the car. Richie took another moment to try and gather himself together before quickly figuring out that he wasn’t going to get any more prepared than he was right now. 

Richie kicked off his boots as he came in the house, and didn’t have a chance to take them off before somebody was latching themselves tightly around his midsection.”RICHIE!” Alex cried, pressing her face directly into his stomach. Alexandria Tozier had been a shock to Went and Maggie, barely four years old when Richie had moved out, and he adored her. 

“Hey kiddo.” Richie said, trying to cover up how his voice cracked and broke as he squeezed his baby sister. She stepped back and Richie got his first good look at her. Her hair was longer and waved down her back, and her huge grin was missing several teeth. “Look at you! You’re all grown up, you in high school yet?”

Alex broke into giggles, wrapping her arms back around Richie’s stomach. “Noooo Richie. I’m only in grade two.”

“Grade two!” Richie gasped overdramatically, bending slightly and grunting as he heaved Alex up into his arms. Alex looked at him seriously for a moment then cracked into a grin and Richie couldn’t help but smile back. He kicked off his boots and walked into the crowded living room, holding Alex to his chest like a shield. 

“Richie!” Maggie cried as he entered, coming forward to wrap her arms around her son. Richie leaned down and kissed his mother on the cheek, and Alex rested her head on Richie’s shoulder. Her eyes were already drooping and Richie couldn’t help but wonder if she was staying up past her bedtime to see him.

Eddie was chatting with Wentworth across the living room and Richie’s heart began to race in his chest. He tossed Alex down onto the couch touchdown style, leaving her laughing into the cushions as he walked over to them. 

“Hey Pops.” Richie said, scratching at the back of his neck. 

Went turned to him, expression stoney. “Edward has told me there’s no need for me to lecture you since he has that covered. I trust that is true.” 

“Yes sir.” Richie replied with a somber nod. 

Went broke into a smile and pulled Richie in for a hug. “It’s good to have you home, son. Hope to see you around here more often.”

Richie thought of how much Alex had grown, of sitting with Eddie in the car listening to music and felt his father’s warmth around. “Yeah, Dad. Absolutely.”

“Only issue,” Eddie broke into the father-son moment with a sing song voice. Richie turned and Eddie beamed at him. “I basically live in your room when I’m back in Derry, so you’re going to have to share your bed with me.”

Richie’s brain stalled at the thought of Eddie living in his childhood bedroom for the last three years and he wasn’t quite sure if he felt uncomfortable with it or not, but his brain got caught up in the even scarier thought of sharing a bed with Eddie. 

As the evening went on, Richie tried with all his might not to think about the last time he and Eddie had laid together in that bed. It had been Eddie’s last night in Derry, the two of them curled under the blankets and watching shitty movies and drinking so much soda that Eddie had gotten a stomach ache. A good old fashioned middle school style sleepover. That is until Eddie had rolled over with tears in eyes, and apologized that they couldn’t be together the way they wanted, and kissed him. Everything else that happened between them that night hurt too much to think about, and Eddie had left the next morning without a single word about it. Richie had barely spoken to him since- until today.

Everything died down quickly, and Richie found that he was exhausted. After helping his mom put Alex to bed, though he suspected that the nighttime routine was a little elaborated for his presence, Richie said goodnight to his family and Eddie and dragged his ass up to his childhood bedroom. 

Everything seemed smaller than Richie remembered, and the walls were littered with posters of bands that Richie hadn’t listened to in years. He smiled, though he wasn’t quite sure what was getting to him in the moment, and opened up the top drawer of his dresser. Most of the clothes he’d left behind had actually once belonged to one of the other Losers, and Richie ended up in a too-large T-shirt that was most likely Ben’s, and a pair of sweatpants that were just short enough in the leg to be Bill’s. He crawled into bed and sleep took faster than it had in ages.

He was woken a bit later by the door opening and closing. He rolled over onto his back and squinted, but he couldn’t see shit in the dark without his glasses.

“It’s just me.” Eddie said in soft whisper. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

Richie rolled over, more than happy to do that. He’d started to doze when the bed dipped under the weight of Eddie climbing in beside him. Richie grunted and burrowed himself deeper into the blankets.

“Rich?” Eddie whispered. Richie groaned in response. “Are you sure you’re okay with sharing with me? This is your bed, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I don’t live here, I can go back and stay with my Ma-”

“Eddie if you think I’m even gonna let you to stay at your mom’s, you’re insane.” Richie said, his voice croaking with half-sleep. “If I was uncomfortable with you in my bed, I would’ve fucking told you. We’ve shared this bed a hundred million times or more. We’re only going to start having an issue if you don’t shut the fuck up and let me sleep.”

Eddie chuckled, and when he spoke his voice sounded a little awestruck. “Richie Tozier telling somebody to shut the fuck up? That must be a first.”

“There’s about to be a second.” Richie grumbled, grabbing a pillow out from where Eddie was leaning and whacking him in the face with it. Eddie laughed and Richie felt him finally lay down completely beside him. 

It was definitely the best sleep Richie had had in months, but he wasn’t about to go around announcing it. 

The next morning, Richie woke up alone in his bed and felt a momentary panic when he took in his whereabouts. It took a moment for everything to come sinking back in, and Richie groaned as he put the pieces back together. He flung the blankets up over his head and wondered if he’d be able to get away with wasting the day away in bed. He never came home for the holidays, maybe if he just stayed in his room, his family would just forget he was there.

The bedroom door came swinging open immediately after Richie’s thoughts trailed off, and he forced himself not to make any noise or sudden movements. 

“Asshole, get up.” His older sister, Alyssa, called into the room. “Mom and Dad need you and Eddie to go pick up some stuff for the party tonight.”

“Why do I have to do it?” Richie grumbled. “I was in a different state yesterday! That kind of shit takes a lot out of a guy!”

Alyssa grabbed the blankets that were still hung over Richie’s head and tossed them away. She glared down at him, hands on her hips, and Richie couldn’t help but think she looked exactly like their mother. “Last ones in do the bitch work. And you have like, three years worth of bitch work to make up for. So let’s go, move your ass, Tozier.”

“Fuck you, Tozier.”

Richie rolled out bed quite literally, letting himself drop to the floor. He didn’t need to look up to know that Alyssa was rolling her eyes as she walked away out of his room. Richie rummaged back through the drawer o’ missing clothes, and came out with a large grey sweater- much too large to belong to Richie himself- and pulled back on the jeans from the day before. Tossing his outgrown hair up into a bun on top of his head, Richie half stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

Maggie barely looked up at him as she handed him a cup of steaming hot chocolate and Richie leaned in to kiss her on the forehead. He turned towards the table and found Eddie sitting there, eating a blueberry muffin and glaring at him. “Got an issue, Kaspbrak?” Richie challenged, sitting down across from him and grabbing his own muffin from the plate. 

“Are you wearing the same jeans from yesterday?” Eddie asked with a crinkle of his nose.

“Judging by the look on your face, you already know the answer to that, Eduardo.” 

Eddie fake gagged. “Richie, that’s so fucking disgusting, are you kidding? What? You’re just going to wear the same pants the entire time you’re here? You’re going to get an… an infection or something. God, Richie. When we go out today, you’re getting some clothes.” Richie opened his mouth but Eddie put his hand out. “And don’t even try to complain to me, it’s your own damn fault for not bringing any stuff when you knew you were going to be here for a week.”

Richie rolled his eyes and didn’t bother trying to cover up his pout. He’d had to borrow a coat from his dad, and was forced to venture out into two feet of snow in his Converse sneakers and Eddie was talking a mile a minute at his side. 

“I’m not fucking buying a pair of boots, Eddie.” Richie rolled his eyes as he dropped into the passenger seat of Eddie’s car. “They’re like 60 bucks a pair, and I live in fucking California. I’m not spending $60 on something I’m only going to use for a week. I’m a broke college student, just like you.”

“Please.” Eddie scoffed, pulling out of the driveway and starting slowly down the snowy road. “If you say so.” 

They drove in an almost eerily comfortable silence. No music, not taking, just them while Richie tried to ignore how immensely he was enjoying Eddie’s company. Richie curled up in the passenger seat, head pressed against the window and he sighed. He watched his breath fog up the glass and slowly traced a R + E into the fog with his finger. He immediately wiped it away with the palm of his hand and glanced over his shoulder, relaxing when it seemed that Eddie hadn’t noticed.

Eddie pulled into the parking lot of Shaw’s Supermarket and Richie stayed curled up in his seat until Eddie came around and yanked the door open. “Come on.” He said with a huff. “I’m not going to do the shopping by myself. Move it.”

Richie groaned, and made exaggerated stomps out of the car. He kept his arms crossed as they hurried through the parking lot and Eddie grabbed them a cart. As soon as Eddie had his bearings on the cart, Richie leap over it and curled up inside, crossed legged and grinning up at Eddie. 

“The cart is for groceries, not your lazy ass.” Eddie grumbled, but he started pushing the cart into the store nonetheless. Richie spun around in the cart, grabbing things off the shelves when Eddie pointed them out and holding them on his lap. 

Eddie maintained that Richie was being lazy and merely looking for an excuse to get out of the shopping as much as possible, but Richie firmly believed that the trip went by faster without Eddie having to stop for every single item they needed to grab. 

“That would have been true either way, you’d just also be walking, dickhead.” Eddie argued after Richie had leap out of the cart and was helping him unload everything onto the belt. “Maybe we could have taken turns pushing the cart even.”

“Awe, Eds, that’s the funniest joke you’ve ever made.” Richie said over his shoulder as he paid the cashier. Richie grabbed as many bags as he could carry and they dragged everything back to car. 

Richie turned on Christmas Carols on the drive back to his house, and after mild complaining- Eddie even sang along with him. 

As they arrived back at the Toziers, they realized how many extra cars were now parked outside. There was space for Eddie to pull into the driveway- no doubt at Maggie’s demand for the safety of her much needed groceries- and Richie found that anxiety from the night before quickly settling back into his gut. 

“Relax, Rich.” Eddie said in a calming voice. His hand dropped down on Richie’s thigh and squeezed. Richie’s breath picked up, Eddie successfully doing the opposite of calming him down. “Richie. I can feel you freaking out. What is your problem?”

“I can’t go in there, Eddie.” Richie said, voice pitched and words rushed together. Richie suddenly felt fifteen again, deeply in love with his best friend and afraid to do anything. A boy who likes boy is a dead boy, Richie thought to himself and remembered growing up in this horrific town around people he could only hope would accept him but he was never sure. He was never sure, he isn’t sure. 

But Eddie with looking at him with wide eyes, concerned and open. Willing to listen to whatever Richie was struggling with and it made Richie so nervous he could throw up. 

Richie ran both hands over his face and sighed loudly. “I cut off everybody I loved, Eds. They’re all in that fucking house, I can’t go in there. I wouldn’t be able to stand it. I can’t go in there and lie to them, or dodge their fucking questions of why I never come home. I just can’t.” 

“Why do you have to lie?” Eddie asked, frowning deeply.  

“Because I can't just go in there and be all ‘hey everybody! Sorry you haven’t seen me in three years but I went off to college and stopped repressing my homosexuality and now I’m a big giant gay! Surprise! I didn’t bring any present!’” 

Richie blurted out the sentence in a span of seconds, words all pressed together until they were barely coherent and Eddie blinked at him as his brain attempted to detangle the mess. His eyes widened as he finally did, and he turned off the car. He buckled himself and almost fell out of the door in his haste to get out. 

Tears stung at his eyes as Richie’s brain spiraled down the dark panic of Eddie turning his back on him. Luckily for Richie, Eddie had only been out of the car long enough to rush around to the passenger side and yank it open. 

“Come on, out. Let’s go.” Eddie forcibly unbuckled Richie and tugged him out of the car. Hand in hand, Eddie dragged him around the house and towards the backyard. 

“Uh, Eds?” Richie’s knees shook brutally as they walked. “What about the groceries?”

“It’s cold enough.” Eddie said sharply. “It’ll basically be like it being a fridge. Relax. This is more important.” 

Eddie sat down on the swing set and Richie sat down slowly on the other side. He suddenly remembered all the summer and fall days Richie and his friends would run around on this small swing set. He wondered if Alex and her friends even played on it, and he hoped desperately that they did. 

It had started snowing lightly, like flakes falling into their hair. Richie, despite the lingering anxiety, couldn’t help but smile at the way Eddie’s cheeks were starting to redden with the chill. Richie pushed his swing enough to sway, enough to just have something to do. 

“Richie-“ Eddie started then paused. He bit down on his bottom lip and furrowed his brow. “I don’t know how to say this politely, so I’m just going to spit it down. Richie. Your family knows you’re gay.”

Richie’s mouth dropped open. He closed his sharply, just to open it again. He shook his head, and closed his eyes. Swallowing deeply, when he opened them again, Eddie was still staring at him softly. “How do you know that?”

Eddie laughed. “Dude, do you know how much I’ve had to hear your mom talk about how she thought we were dating in high school? I’m not sure she believes me when I say that we weren’t.” 

“I’m not sure I believe you either.” Richie said quietly, so quietly that he was almost surprised that Eddie even heard him. But Eddie let a small noise, almost as though he was pained. 

Suddenly, Eddie’s hands were on Richie’s cheeks and pulling him in. Eddie’s lips were cold and Richie knew his were chapped and probably not very nice, but there was something so heartachingly familiar about kissing Eddie that Richie couldn’t help but sink into it completely. 

Eddie pulled back slowly, letting their foreheads stay pressed together. Richie fluttered his eyes open, looking at Eddie with hooded lids. “Why’d you do that?” Richie whispered. 

“I’m sorry.” Eddie said sounding mournful. “For… saying we shouldn’t be together and everything that happened before I left for New York. It wasn’t fucking fair to you, you deserved so much better.” Eddie shook his head, pushing Richie’s head as they moved together. “God. I loved you so much and I knew I was hurting you. I was always so sure that the reason you wouldn't come back to Derry because of me.”

Richie shrugged and brought his hands down to rest on Eddie’s hips. “There was a lot of versions. But…” Richie smiled bashfully. “I think I’m glad I came back this time.” 

Eddie smiled back and pressed a kiss to Richie’s forehead. 

[ohmeohmayohmy]

With the Slightest Smile, Chapter 8

Taglist: @reedusteinrambles @juxt4p0siti0n @kurtnehhhh @chlobo6 @reavenedges-lies @livcaper @singularpurplepansy

Notes: For some reason, I feel like one has a bit of a different vibe. Don’t quite know what makes it that way so 🤷‍♀️ I decided to go back and change things, so hopefully it was worth the wait? If not, I suppose there’s not much I can do about it... Maybe the cute moments will make up for the not-as-good ones.

Warnings: Swearing? That’s it? I think?

Words: 9.7k+

___________________________________

December 8, 1973

The last time you saw Brian was the night of Queen’s performance in Blackburn. It wasn’t for lack of want, but he couldn’t come home to see you, and you certainly couldn’t leave the hospital to go follow the tour. On any days off, you were unable to muster up the energy to meet with him, even if it was just halfway. For the time being, sporadic phone calls would have to suffice.

Your apartment felt colder than usual while he was away. The heating was working well enough, but you still found yourself shivering no matter the number of blankets piled on top of you. The frosty weather outside glazing over the windows did not help your mood. On some occasions, you would relish in the tranquility that came with being alone in your own apartment, but some other nights you would curl up in Brian’s bed just because you missed him. It made you feel like he was closer, like maybe he was missing you too. Of course he did, and you knew it, but the warmth of his sheets reaffirmed the notion.

You crashed into his mattress the instant you came home from work, around eight p.m.

But just as you felt you had settled in, the phone began to ring.

You groaned, peeling the covers from you. Wrinkles were etched across your arms, indicating that the quick rest of your eyes had been much longer than the mere seconds you experienced.

The cold wood floor shocked you, causing you to almost whimper in surprise. You shuffled down the hallway, arms folded over your chest while rubbing each other in an attempt to warm up. Shivering, you finally made it to the blaring telephone in the living room.

“Hello?”

“Hello.”

“Hello hello.” You teased over the line, yawning with a smile on your face. Your eyes fell on the clock. 

It’s nearly midnight?

“Did I wake you?”

You yawned again. “Oh, no. I’ve been awake for hours.”

The line went silent. You smirked, knowing Brian was well aware of your sarcasm. He sighed.

“What can I do for you?”

“Talk to me.”

“What have I been doing up to this point?”

“Sleeping, apparently.” His voice was heavy, sounding worn out. You were a little concerned.

“Are you alright, Brian?” You didn’t mean to hush your tone, but it happened instinctively.

“I’m fine, Y/N. Miss you, is all.”

A round of laughter broke through from his side. You could make out some familiar peals, but others were unrecognizable. Some even sounded feminine.

“Are you with other people right now?”

Brian quickly cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“Don’t have access to another phone?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

He fell silent again. It made you feel sad for him, you could hear the resignation in his voice. So lonely in a room full of joyousness.

“Do you want me to do the talking?”

“That would be nice,” he chimed, perking up at the suggestion.

“Alright...well…” You didn’t know what you were supposed to say. “Stella brought me lunch today. Hadn’t seen her for a while, so it was nice. She didn’t stay long, though.” You yawned again. “Probably had something more important to do,” you tried to be jocose, but it didn’t make the thought sting any less. “She’s pretty busy these days.” A pause. “Not as busy as you, of course.” Brian breathed through his nose. “Or me, I suppose.” Another pause. “I guess I don’t mind having things to do. It just means less time being alone over here.” You felt guilty saying it, but it slipped out before you could think about it. 

No response of any kind came from Brian.

“Bri?”

A moment passed before he answered.

“Hmm? Sorry, Y/N, I got distracted.”

“Oh. It’s fine.”

Another voice came across the line, speaking to Brian. “Are you talking to Y/N?” A drunken Roger slurred.

“That would explain why I addressed her as Y/N, Rog.”

You grinned, enjoying the light banter and sassiness coming from the other end of the call.

“Tell her I say hi.”

“I will, Rog.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.” Roger hiccoughed.

Brian sighed. You imagined he was rubbing a temple out of frustration. “Roger says hi.”

“Hi to Roger,” you said. You heard Brian mumbling your greeting to his blond companion.

He started to speak to you again. “What were you saying? Before?”

You decided not to repeat yourself.

“I was just talking about Stella. Nothing too important.”

“Everything you have to say is important.” Brian’s voice was suddenly lower, quieter.

“Thank you?” You weren’t sure what to make of the change. “Brian?”

“Yes?”

“Is something the matter? Did you need to talk to me about something that happened?”

No reply.

“Brian, please?”

“I have to go, Y/N.” He rushed to say. 

You were taken aback. He had not been able to talk for several days, and now he was brushing you off. It wasn’t very convincing. Neither you nor Brian bought it.

“I’ll see you in a few days?” Brian asked, waiting for confirmation of your presence at the Hammersmith Odeon, where they would be giving two performances for their London based following.

You croaked, “The fourteenth, yeah?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” You suddenly felt hot, choking on your own breath.

“See you then.”

“See you then. Bye, Br—”

He hung up before saying goodbye. You put the phone down on its hook.

A warm teardrop slid down your cheek.

That’s not like him.

You already knew that the rockstar life would change your relationship with Brian dramatically. But you weren’t expecting it so soon. You weren’t ready to relinquish what you had with him.

Not yet.

_______________

December 14

“Are you sure you don’t want me to give you a ride home?”

“Yes, Doctor Carlisle. I appreciate the gesture, but I really do prefer that my colleagues don’t know my place of residence.” You huddled further into the coziness of your coat.

“I thought we were past that.”

“Past what?” Your pace wasn’t slowing, so Arthur was trailing along behind you.

“That colleague nonsense,” he sped up slightly to be walking by your side.

“Unless you stupidly quit your job, we still work together.” You stopped in your tracks, turning sharply to face him. “Ergo,” you moved your hands as you spoke, “we are not past that ‘colleague nonsense’.”

He stepped back on one foot. “I’m not quitting.”

“And I’m not asking you to!”

God, he’s irritating.

“Can’t we at least be friends?”

You laughed. “I think ’ve got enough of ’em.” Before continuing on your way to the Tube stop, you quickly patted Arthur’s shoulder, trying to make your curtness less harsh. He realized you weren’t being fully serious and gave you a smile. You rolled your eyes in a playful manner, even though you were feeling more annoyed by his persistence. 

“Work friends?”

You kept walking, without giving a response.

* * *

Fuck.

You hadn’t realized it had gotten so late. Your indecisiveness over clothing was starting to catch up with you. You were going to miss the boys opening for Mott the Hoople if you didn’t get your act together soon. 

Frantically, you slipped a pair of tall boots on over your wool tights, grabbed the nearest jacket, and shoved your keys into one of its pockets. Running out the door, you almost collided with one of the girls who lived next door. She looked frightened as she saw you aggressively hurtling yourself down the hall.

I hope Stella is already here.

As luck would have it, you were met with the gleaming sight of her mint green vehicle. She waved at you through the window, motioning for you to hurry up. You jogged faster on the final stretch to her car, but you weren’t looking at the ground and tripped over your own feet. With a short Ahh, you tumbled to the pavement. 

Stella stuck her head out.

“You okay, babe?” She called over to you, without leaving her seat. You pushed up into a sitting position, giving a small nod. She didn’t look convinced but didn’t say anything. Standing up, you brushed your legs off and noticed a tear in your tights. Stella could tell you were unhappy before she even saw the rip. “It’ll be fine. You look great! Let’s go.” You heaved your shoulders as you made your way to her.

You pulled the door open and slid inside.

“It’s absolutely freezing out,” Stella said. Her voice was high energy, with her expression to match. You smiled uneasily and turned to face the road. “When’d you get off work?”

Sighing, you replied: “Couple hours ago.”

“Did you have a nice day?”

“It was fine.” You cleared your throat. “Hard to have a nice day when you’re surrounded by sick children.” Your gaze had moved down to your lap, watching your icy fingers wring each other for heat. It was as if nothing could be so fascinating.

Stella frowned. “Thought you’d be a little happier,” she started. “You get to see your favorite person. ’T’s been a while.”

You didn’t look up. “He hung up on me, Elle.”

“What?” She couldn’t hear your murmur.

“When he called the other day. I asked if he needed to talk about something, and he just...he rushed off.”

Stella bit her lip. “Brian’s got a lot of things to do. ’M sure he wouldn’t go unless it was important.”

“Didn’t hear anyone else.”

“I don’t think I follow what you’re saying, babe.”

You brought your thumb up between your teeth. “No one on his side called him away.”

“Oh. Well, maybe he knew beforehand that he’d have to be somewhere at a certain time?”

Your hand lowered. You bit the inside of your cheek. “Maybe. Just didn’t mention it.”

Stella gave you a side-eyed glance. “You can’t really get mad at Brian for doing something else. His world doesn’t necessarily revolve around you, Y/N.”

“I know that.” Your head snapped to her. “I know he can’t always be at my beck and call, Elle.” Her words upset you. “We’re adults, and I get that Queen’s now a bit of a sensation, but I thought Brian…” You didn’t know how to complete your sentence.

“Thought Brian what? Would stay by your side forever? Wouldn’t change?” Stella sounded like she was getting frustrated with you. “Don’t be so naive, Y/N. A little taste of fame changes even the most dependable person.”

You knew she was right. You knew you were being irrational. The dependency on Brian you had grown accustomed to wasn’t the healthiest habit to form.

But it didn’t change how you felt.

“I thought he’d at least say goodbye,” you whispered, tearfully.

Stella’s grip on the steering wheel loosened, her tense concentration softened. “He hung up before saying goodbye?” You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t really need to. “Is that why you’ve been so moody all week?” She let out a faint chuckle. “Oh god! Odette thought it was because we couldn’t come over for dinner on Sunday.”

You squinted at your friend. She was trying not to appear too happy, but you could see a hint of jolliness dancing in her eyes. It mitigated your sadness enough to allow a grin to slip through your pursed lips.

“That really hurt my feelings,” you giggled. Stella finally broke into a small fit of laughter. It shattered the tenseness that had previously fallen over the Volkswagen. Your smile widened, making creases up by your eyes.

The atmosphere became more lively. You turned up the radio to have it as background noise. Stella spoke with great excitement about her newest project. The drive to the venue was longer than you originally thought, but it wasn’t an issue. You missed talking with Stella.

“Are you going to stay for the later performance, d’you think?”

“Yeah, I think so.” You tapped the dashboard. “They have to be in Leicester tomorrow, so I want to see them as much ’s possible.”

“When will they be back again?”

“After tomorrow, they’ll perform in Taunton a few days before Christmas, but I think Brian will spend some days here.”

“And then they’re home for a month?”

You bit your lip. “Something like that. Who knows?”

The brakes screeched as the car’s momentum slowed for a stoplight. Your attention was drawn out the window by a pair of running children. A tiny girl, whose hair was similar to the color of your own, was dragging a taller boy with a worried look on his face by the wrist. She was laughing, singing or shouting something at the top of her lungs. The boy was rigidly following her, his body stiff with caution. They would sometimes lose traction on the icy ground, nearly slipping, but the boy always caught the girl before she could fall down entirely. You glanced around for an adult supervisor, but no one seemed to be keeping an eye on the kids. Before you were able to see a parent, Stella drove away at the change of the light. Observing the brief moment in the young strangers’ lives put you at ease. It reminded you what it was like to be so carefree, always having a nervous Brian in tow.

The dim winter evening appeared brighter.

* * *

“How was it?” A sweaty, panting Brian stood in front of you, dabbing the back of his neck with a towel. You beamed, looking up at him.

“Wonderful! You’re hardly an opener anymore, I think it’s fair to say you guys are a hit.”

“I’m sure you’re the only one who thinks that.”

You put your hand on your hips. “C’mon! Hoople is great, but you shouldn’t sell yourselves short.”

Brian tossed the dampened cloth over your shoulder, to the basket behind you.

“People pay to see them, Y/N.”

“I don’t.”

He arched an eyebrow. “You don’t even pay. You get to watch from the wings whenever you want.”

“Fine. But I do come to see you.”

Brian ceded. “We appreciate it.”

No, I meant you, idiot.

“Gotta get on the groupie train before it takes off,” you joked, nudging him with your elbow.

He laughed. “I think Rog has enough groupies for all of us.”

“Freddie’s a handsome man. And John is so cute. I’m sure they’ve got a following, too.” Brian gave an offended pretense. You tried to hide a smile. “What?”

“Don’t think I’ve got anyone lusting after me?” Now his hands were on his hips, mirroring your stance. You giggled.

“Hey now, Maypole, I never said anything of the sort.”

Brian gave you a blank, cold glare. Its unwavering intensity made you squirm after a few moments. Just when you were off guard, he lunged at you, picking you up. You screamed playfully as he twirled you around.

“Brian! Put me down, I’ll get sick!”

“Then don’t call me names,” he quipped, his speed slowing down.

“Looks like you’re living up to it, Maypole,” you chimed.

“I warned you…”

The door to the dressing room creaked open. Startled, Brian set you down to let you stand. Freddie and John came in with Stella between them, Roger lagging behind talking to some roadie. Your head was still spinning, you had to sit until the dizziness subsided.

“Sorry for stealing Stella from you, Y/N,” Freddie said. His eyes drifted between your spaced out stare and Brian’s guilt-ridden face, both of you breathing a little heavier than he would expect came with casual conversation.

You swallowed. “No problem, really. It got her out of my hair.” You winked at Stella, who stuck her tongue out at you. 

John gave you a bashful half-smile. “Did you enjoy the show?”

You nodded. “It was fantastic! As I was telling Brian, you really are more than the label of an opening act.”

“Good thing you liked it, because you get to see it all over again,” Roger shouted from behind the others. 

Freddie turned to him. “I hardly think so. I never repeat a performance, darling.”

John turned to Roger, too, with a devilish grin creeping across his cheeks. “You can understand that, Roger, seeing as you never shag the same girl twice.” 

Roger gasped in protest. “Oi! I am an artist of seduction.” The roadie he had been speaking to quietly snuck out of the dressing room, closing the door behind him carefully.

“Is that what they call it these days?” Stella contributed to the ambush on Roger.

You and Brian chuckled at the group as he joined you on the chair, perching on its arm. You leaned back against him, so your head was hovering near his stomach. He looked down at you while you were watching the silly argument breaking out. Without thinking, Brian laced his fingers through a strand of your hair, combing it gently. You liked the soothing sensation it brought to your scalp, and you nestled further into Brian’s touch. Roger noticed the closeness and smirked, drowning out the teasing insults being made at his expense. John noticed the ease in Roger’s face and followed his line of sight, landing on Brain, who was gingerly stroking your hair. He quickly averted his eyes, coming back with another joke about Roger. You laughed heartily, while Brian was trying to have a nonverbal conversation with the blond he was making eye contact with.

Freddie glanced over at the pair of you huddled on the chair, then did a double take. He walked closer to you with languid motions, and tapped Brian on the knee. “Save it for later, dear. We have another performance to get ready for.” Brian stumbled off the arm of the seat, causing you to fall against it in his absence. You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, smoothing it down against your head.

“Can I help with anyone’s makeup?” You offered. Freddie readily clasped his hands over yours and dragged you towards the mirror lining the wall.

Noting your distraction, Roger approached Brian and stood next to him. He leaned over with a sly grin, muttering, “Maypole, eh?”

Grabbing his white scarf, Brian glared down at Roger. “Bugger off.”

* * *

The music began to swell as Freddie stepped to the front of the stage. “Good evening, lovies! Sorry for the wait, we got a little distracted.” He raised his eyebrows at John, who nodded in good humor. “But I promise it’ll be worth it,” Freddie simpered. Brian’s guitar wailed in response, causing some of the fans in the audience to clap. The small cluster of groupies who had convened side stage cheered shrilly. You covered the ear that was closest to them, rolling your eyes to Brian, who looked over at you after giving his little riff. He returned the action, making you smile. 

“We’ve got quite a lineup for you tonight. Some favorites, naturally, but we thought about giving a preview of what’s to come. What d’you say to that?” A few hollers from the crowd wafted through the air. Again, the groupies screamed. Freddie’s eyes snapped to them, laughing at their enthusiasm. With a swift arm extension to the wing, he remarked, “At least some people are excited.” You noticed the glint in his eyes, something devious was on his mind. “Now, before we get into the swing of things, I would like to introduce some lovely people to you. To my right, we have our dear baby bassist, John Deacon!” 

You clapped and let out a small “Woo!” A couple of the girls gathered by you yelled his name, making him blush from the attention. Freddie looked pleased with himself. 

“The blondie behind me is Sex on Two Legs, or as he is lesser known: Roger Taylor!” A larger reaction came from the audience, and the groupies. Roger rose from his stool, holding his arms in the air, a drumstick in each hand. You playfully shouted his name in unison with the strangers standing nearby. Roger winked as he pointed one of his drumsticks directly at you. It drove the girls crazy.

Freddie licked his lips, a smugness stretching across his face. “And last but certainly not least,” he made a gesture to indicate Brian’s stature, “the reason for our tardiness, the ever-distracted Brian May!” You cheered as loudly as you could, all timidity fading out as you watched your breathtaking best friend wave to the throng. 

The only thing that stripped your attention away from him was a tall, slender woman who pushed her way closer to the stage, right next to where you were standing. The other groupies were held farther back from the stage by security, so you had been, for the most part, standing alone until she joined you. She was calling Brian’s name with an air of familiarity. You studied her for a moment, trying to place her face.

Where have I seen her before?

Brian turned to look at you, but the cheer drained from his face as he recognized your new companion. Your eyes darted between him and her, a sense of deja vu springing to mind. When she blew Brian a kiss, it hit you. She was the same girl you’d been interrupted by over a month ago. You frowned. How did she get back here? Brian’s eyes glazed over, and he quickly turned back to the front of the stage, shaking the memory out of his mind. He had to gear up for the show.

You took a few steps closer to the sightline of the leg; the curtain that separated the wings from the stage. The mystery woman didn’t seem to take notice of you, she simply lifted her chin to see over you. Although you were glad she didn’t move up with you, you couldn’t take your mind off of her presence. You did not want her there, and apparently, neither did Brian. The discomfort she gave him made you angry. 

Some time while you were seething, the music had started. You were eventually jolted out of your thoughts when you heard Roger’s raspy voice breaking through.

Do you think you’re better everyday?

You recognized the lyrics, orienting yourself in the song.

No, I just think I’m two steps nearer to my grave.

Brian’s slightly warbled tone quality greatly contrasted with Roger’s. Your focus was once again completely on him, and the next songs of the set flew by in a whir. 

As Queen’s act was winding down, Freddie started yet another speech. You had already counted two, other than his opening remarks and introduction.

“Alright, boys and girls, our time together is coming to an end. We’ve got a couple more songs left before you finally get what you paid for. I would apologize for the hold up, but quite frankly, I’ve been enjoying myself, so I’m not really sorry.” The crowd chattered and laughed in response. Freddie shook his hair out of his eyes. You admired how natural he looked, speaking so boldly to a room full of strangers. His charisma is staggering. “Before we dazzle you with our closing number, I’d like to perform an older song of ours. It wasn’t on the first album, but we ensured it got onto the second.”

Roger spoke into his own mic, “More like Brian ensured it got onto the second album.” The band shared a silent moment, exchanging sly glances.

“For once, the drummer’s right.”

You snorted, loud enough for Brian and Freddie to hear you. They both quickly shot you looks of pride. You gave them a thumbs up, only encouraging their banter.

“Our lovely guitarist here wrote this song some years ago about a girl.” Freddie paused, receiving the reaction he was awaiting. There were some Oohs that came from the audience. Freddie nodded. “Almost the love of his life. Until he decided music was the main lady for him.” Brian shifted his weight uneasily, unsure of where his mate was going with the strange tangent. “Don’t worry, he’s gotten plenty of side action, for those of you who are interested.”

The mystery woman behind you whistled loudly. You could feel heat rising to your cheeks.

“I’m only teasing,” Freddie scoffed. “Brian’s love life is none of our business. We just make sure he puts that emotion into his songwriting. That’s our business.” He tenderly patted Brian’s tensed shoulder.

Roger saw the stress in Brian’s posture. In an attempt to rescue him, Roger chimed in again: “The song is meant for anyone with an ‘almost’ kind of situation. I know I’ve had my fair share.” High-pitched cheers filled the air. He smirked.

Freddie accepted the shift in focus. Moving to his place at the piano on stage right, he stood upright, in front of it. “Courtesy of Brian May’s gorgeous mind, we present to you ‘White Queen’!”

The slow, delicate melody created a stillness that took over the entire space. You fixated on Brian’s dexterous fingers gently working the strings. His dainty, precise movements matched the beauty of the music. The instrument sounded like it was crying for a lost love. 

Needing—unheard.

You were filled with an inexplicable ache.

Pleading—one word.

Aching with sorrow for someone who wasn’t even missing, someone who was never there.

So sad, my eyes...

Someone who was just beyond reach.

She cannot see.

Your eyes fell upon Brian’s face, your gaze tracing down his cheekbones. His bottom lip was between the rows of his teeth. Hair had fallen over his eyes, casting a soft shadow under the intensity of the blue stage lighting.

How did thee fare, what have thee seen? 

Brian clenched his jaw in anticipation of the upcoming lyrics.

The mother of the willow green, I call her name.

The vocals were no longer your focal point, you were more concerned with the pained expression on Brian’s face. You watched him intently, blocking out the sounds of the concert. The only thing that broke you from your worry came at the end of the instrumental break, when he locked eyes with you. He made a movement with his mouth, which you couldn’t tell if it was meant to be words, or just an action. You nodded your head with encouragement, and Brian smiled big enough for you to see his upper teeth.

My Goddess, hear my darkest fear—I speak too late; it’s for evermore that I wait.

He turned his head to the front, desperate for you to not see the want in his eyes.

Dear friend, goodbye. 

The sweet tonality soared over everyone in attendance.

No tears in my eyes. 

Your gaze flicked down to the scarf wrapped around Brian’s neck, only seeing it just then.

So sad it ends…

The melancholia got the better of you.

As it began.

It was the scarf you made him what seemed an eternity ago.

* * *

You had gone back to the dressing room after Queen had finished their set, and waited for them while they sat side stage to support Hoople’s performance. You knew they would join in when “All the Young Dudes” was being played, so you had some time to yourself. The screeching girls whom you had been surrounded by for the past hour or so had gotten to you, otherwise you would have stayed with the boys while they waited to go back onstage for the closing. Plus, you didn’t really feel like watching a swarm of scantily clad women climbing all over your friends.

The halls of the venue echoed tremendously, so you were able to make out the music being played at any given time.

You sank deeper into the comfort of the overstuffed chair pushed against a corner of the dressing room. The faded green fabric was smooth against your skin. You looked down at the rip in your tights with dismay, and began to gently pick at the fraying fabric around the hole’s perimeter. The absentminded fiddling caused it to expand, exposing more of your knee. 

With a disgruntled huff, you got up from your seat and walked to the minibar at the other end of the room. 

The selection of beverages was decent, but none of it appealed to you.

Down the hallway, onstage, the opening to the finale was being played. You shrugged to yourself, and decided to push through to watch the last moments of the show. Walking down the corridor, you saw a clock up on a wall. It was after midnight. Brian said the show would be done before eleven, if it had started on time. You pressed your lips together tightly, stressed that it had gotten to be so late. 

Coming through the stage door, you saw that most of the people who had accumulated in the wing had dispersed. Some giddy young women were still staring at the musicians, the lights setting their hopeful eyes all aglow. You gently pushed through the small cluster. One of the roadies gave you a subtle nod, signalling that you were allowed to get nearer to the performance space. You could feel some jealous glares coming from the strangers, but you didn’t pay them any mind.

The entire ensemble who had assembled onstage sang the rousing tune with huge grins on their faces.

Happily watching Deaky bounce to the rhythm, you were awed by his long hair swaying along with his groovy movements. 

Roger stood next to Brian with his arm around the guitarist shoulders, sharing a microphone. Brian held his guitar, tapping to the melody, his hair was brilliantly illuminated. 

Freddie was front and center with Mott the Hoople’s frontman, Ian Hunter. They appeared to be playing off of each other’s energy, lavishing in the moment. 

You cheered and whistled as loud as you could, catching Roger’s attention. He flashed you a twinkling, toothy smile. Your heart felt full in the present, seeing the beams bounce off the youthful, happy faces of your friends. They looked so content in the habitat, it made you slightly teary eyed.

Brian briefly stopped focusing on playing to steal a glance at you. You were pushed up on your toes, eagerly taking in the scene before you, beaming at Freddie as best you could from your vantage point. 

With a shy grin, he turned to Roger, who was singing very loudly. 

The drummer’s zealousness was amusing to you, leading you to scream his name wildly. You could tell he heard you because of the silly expression that twisted across his face.

Letting go, the experience made you feel just a little bit more alive.

* * *

“What did you think of that one, Y/N?” Roger asked, peeling his drenched shirt off to replace it with his robe.

“I’m impressed.”

“Better than the earlier show?”

You paused. “Perhaps.”

“We must get better with age,” John snarked. You were appreciative that the awkwardness between the pair of you had mostly subsided. He was willing to joke around, and would even make eye contact from across the room to exchange skeptical looks whenever someone (namely Roger) would make a stupid remark.

“I agree. Those two hours really made a difference,” you scoffed.

John chuckled as he looped his arms into the robe that matched Roger’s.

“Did either of you see where Bri went?”

The men shook their heads. “I know Fred went to see Bowie,” Roger said, suggesting that Brian might’ve gone with him.

You were slightly awestruck. “He’s here?”

“Yes,” Deaky confirmed.

“The man loves Hoople.”

“Obviously.” You rolled your eyes. Roger paced away, searching for a clean change of clothes. You faced John. “Don’t you have to help strike the equipment?”

“Only if we want to.”.

“So, maybe that’s where Brian is?”

“Don’t see why not.” You bit your cheek, nodding. “I can go with you,” Deaky offered.

“Oh, you don’t have to. Wouldn’t want you to get roped into anything you don’t want to do.”

“I wouldn’t go if I didn’t want to.”

You shrugged. “Fair enough.”

Grinning, he pulled off the robe that he had just put on. “Let me get decent first.” You watched him walk away to grab a fresh shirt. Slipping it over his head, John lifted stray strands of hair out of the collar. You rolled your shoulders back, releasing a small breath. He opened the door, holding it open for you. “After you, love.”

You accidentally brushed his arm as you crossed through the doorway. He jolted his arm away from you, and since you didn’t realize you had touched him, his action came as a surprise. He swallowed heavily, his Adam’s apple bobbed as he avoided your gaze. You chewed on your cheek more intensely than before, sweeping a falling strand of hair out of your face, and continued walking away from the room. Deaky followed quickly, catching up with you in seconds.

“Do you enjoy working with Hoople?” You piped.

John nodded his head. “Yes,” his voice cracked. “The tour’s been a wonderful experience.”

“Are you glad that you’re about to get a break from it?”

“Yes.” John’s smile lines crinkled around his eyes as he hastily affirmed your notion. “I prefer to be home.”

You leaned closer to him, pleased with his jolly reaction. “I’m a bit of a homebody, too.” 

“Didn’t you move to Finland to get away from it?” His response made you chortle.

“That is true, I suppose.” You sighed. “But it sure is nice to be back.”

A sadder emotion came over Deaky’s previously sunny face, but he still smiled. “Missed Brian, eh?”

You looked up at your suddenly morose companion.

“There were a lot of things I missed. And I do have other friends, you know.” You playfully pushed his forearm. “Now, it’s all I can do to get away from him, anyway. I love the man, but he certainly isn’t the cleanest roommate a person could ask for.” 

John studied the twinkle in your eye as you talked about Brian. The hallway seemed to only get longer as your journey progressed.

“Although, he is better than Roger.”

“It would be pretty difficult to be worse than Roger,” he sniped. You shared a moment of laughter. John scratched the back of his neck with arm farthest from you. “How long have you known each other, exactly?”

You puffed air through your lips, eyes widening in exaggeration to indicate your thoughts on the question. “That’s a tough one.” You sucked in part of your lower lip in concentration. “I think he moved in down the street when we were, like, maybe two or three?”

Deaky whistled. “That was a long time ago. I wasn’t even born yet.” His disposition perked up, his head having a little bobble in its movement.

“You’re a baby,” you teased.

“Have you talked to Freddie recently?”

A pause. “I rescind my statement.”

John licked his lips in between quiet snorts. 

He stopped just short of the stage door. You held back with him. “Do you want to have lunch sometime, Y/N?”

You furrowed your brow, unsure of how to respond. He took a small step away to distance himself from you.

“I don’t mean it as a date.”

Your expression eased up subtly.

“I promise.”

“Alright,” you croaked. Deaky grinned down at you, relieved. “But I have a bit of a weird schedule…”

He scoffed and tossed his arms out to his sides, gesturing to the venue in which you were standing. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.” You reluctantly stopped holding back your smile.

“I’m serious.”

“Me too. Very serious.”

The large door beside you swung open, revealing a crewman pushing a piece of equipment on a dolly. He awkwardly shuffled his heavy load around the pair of you while you scooted to one side of the hallway. John muttered a breathy “Thank you” as the man moved pass. The man tipped his head in your direction, silently acknowledging him.

Once he had left your vicinity, you went through the doorway, with Deaky directly behind you.

The bustle of the strike was chaos, but everyone seemed to know what they were doing. You cautiously weaved through the people who were working, scanning the space for Brian. It took awhile before his curly cloud of dark hair came into view. Making a beeline for him, you didn’t pay attention to what he was doing.

You tapped Brian on the shoulder, and he instantly turned around to see who was behind him. You pulled him into a hug before either of you said anything. When you were fully in the embrace, you saw the person that he had been previously engaged with. You released him and stepped back, almost crashing into Deaky, who avoided the collision by paying attention to what was happening. 

Brian cleared his throat, feeling trapped.

The mystery woman you saw earlier in the evening peered at you from over his shoulder.

“Who is this?” She asked, her tone was veering toward unpleasant.

Brian spun back to look at her, his body now a side profile to both you and the other woman. He held up his hands near the level of his chest, in a nearly defensive manner.

“My girlfriend,” Brian sputtered. 

Your face drained of color, mouth dried.

In an attempt to correct his mistake, he shakily said, “Er, friend girl.”  

He grimaced in embarrassment. 

“My friend, Y/N.”

The thin woman swept a quizzical glare over Brian’s reddened face and onto yours. Then, she looked you up and down. You resisted the urge to squirm in discomfort, standing firm.

“Michelle.” With false friendliness, she held out a hand to you. You slowly moved to shake it.

You looked to Brian, trying to convey your apologetic feelings without saying anything. He didn’t seem to understand, so you opened your mouth. “Sorry if we interrupted anything.” 

Until you said it, Brian hadn’t noticed his bandmate standing there with you. He was thankful that the darkness enveloping your small group hid some of his face, so no one could see the shame that would otherwise be exposed.

He was ashamed of the jealous feelings that came from seeing you all close to John, while he had been talking to, albeit politely rejecting, an attractive young woman for at least fifteen minutes.

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” Brian assured you. 

Michelle was dissatisfied with his answer.

“We were actually having a conversation, sweetie.”

You resented her condescending remark.

“And you’ve already got one,” she wagged a finger at Deaky, who was as white as a ghost. You didn’t know what to say. Brian looked down at his feet, also at a loss for words. 

With a simple, calm gesture, he told you and John to step away for a moment. You both obliged.

Once he was sure you were far enough away, Brian stood directly in front of Michelle, obscuring any view you might have of his face.

Since you couldn't see or hear Brian, you looked at John, whose eyes were glued to the ground.

“Brian sure knows how to pick ’em, huh?” You whispered.

“I think it’s safe to say he didn’t have many options.”

You snickered.

“What do you think he’s telling her?”

Deaky observed the pair to the best of his ability, taking note of body language.

“Maybe he finds her repulsive,” he proposed. “I mean, she’s just too similar to Brian for my liking.”

“What? They’re nothing alike. She was vicious.”

“Well, I meant her appearance, but now that you say it, I think they share that trait, too.”

You swatted his chest without any force behind it. He cowered behind his arm, pretending to fend off the attacks. Some of the crewmembers were watching you disapprovingly, thinking you were an obnoxious distraction. You noticed the glares and settled down, going back to a calmer banter.

Looking up just in time, you saw Michelle storming off, leaving Brian standing alone. While his shoulders sloped downward, his chin was held high. Turning on a dime, he made his way to your position, puffing his cheeks in exasperation. It quickly gave way to a secret smile that you didn’t pick up on.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. It was harder for me to tell her than to let her go,” Brian said. You scrunched your face in concern. “Trust me. It would have been worse to lead her on.”

You shifted weight into your hip, trying to appear nonchalant. “Were you dating or something?”

He shook his head instantly. “No, no.”

“Michelle seemed to think so,” Deaky chided. Brian tensed at his implied accusation.

You set a hand on Brian’s chest, aiming to soothe him. “Doesn’t matter, whatever it was is over, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Brian replied.

“Maybe Bowie’s still here, we should go check.”

The two men agreed with your suggestion. As the trio began to walk away, Brian placed an arm over your shoulders, and John kept a generous gap between you.

Oblivious to the still apparent tension, you showered them in your praises for the entirety of your walk.

_______________

December 22

“Can’t believe I get to keep you for a whole week!” You exclaimed, the excitement in your voice sounded like mockery, but the words you were saying closely resembled how you really felt.

Brian poked his head up from behind the newspaper. “Wish I could say the same for you.”

“Hey, a hospital is not like the music industry. What I do actually matters.”

While the comment did get a rise out of him, as you knew it would, Brian remained steady. He continued looking over the large page that was open in front of him.

“If you say so.”

You set the spoon back into your bowl of oatmeal, sidestepping his comeback. “How did it go last night?”

“As well as it could in Taunton.”

“Oh, hush. You’re just cranky.”

“You’re right, my apologies.” Brian folded the paper, putting it down on the table in front of him. “This is the first breakfast we’ve been able to share in weeks.” He cupped his chin in his slender hands, gazing up at you through hooded eyelids. “I’m all yours.” He meant it.

_______________

December 25

You were unable to get Christmas off, settling for the day after Christmas instead. For the time being, you sat at the nurses’ station taking a short break.

The lighting fixtures on the ceiling miraculously weren’t flickering every two seconds. The ward was quiet, with only some staff milling about, or visiting parents dragging around bundles of gifts for children. You reached out a hand to trace along the fairy lights that lit your desk, eyes reflecting the bright colors that sparked from the strand. It was a welcome addition to the glum, depressing atmosphere that was a permanent feature of the hospital. You held a blue bulb between your thumb and index finger, enchanted by its vividness. 

The other festive decorations did not have the same hold over you, not like the twinkling lights did.

--November 5, 1963--

A gentle tap came at your window. You practically jumped out of your bed from fear, not expecting to have someone outside your room at eleven o’clock at night. The ray from a torch shone across the glass, beckoning you to investigate what was happening. You stealthily snuck over from your bed to get a better look.

From where you stood, you could see a shivering Brian, huddled in a large, thick jumper the color of coffee. His skinny legs trembled, brushing against each other rapidly for extra warmth.

You watched the silly scene for a few moments until he tapped on the window again. Out of pity, you slid it open. When he saw you, Brian stopped his chilled movements, pretending that he hadn’t just been chattering his teeth from sheer frozenness. You didn’t say anything about it, finding it cute that he wanted to seem dignified in the cold.

“What are you doing?”

He clicked the light off, smiling contentedly. “Just goin’ for a walk.”

“At this time of night?”

“That obvious, huh?” Brian scoffed. “Wanna join me?”

“Brian, it’s Thursday.”

“And?” 

“And, ’ve got class in the morning.”

He put his hands on his hips, giving you an expectant stare.

“I am not crawling out of bed to go on a walk. ‘Specially not in this weather.”

Brian looked up to the sky, then back to you. “It’s not even windy.”

You shook your head, mostly to yourself. “Besides, I’m not even wearing clothes.”

“You don’t look naked to me,” he teased. You were not entertained by his response. “Throw a jumper over what you’ve got on, and let’s go!”

“My mum would kill me if I went out this late, Bri. You know that.”

“Is she in bed?”

You nodded.

“Asleep?”

“How would I know that? I don’t make a habit out of peeking into my parents’ room at night.”

“Maybe you should.” His volume increased.

“Keep your voice down.”

“Then let’s get a move on!”

This is new.

The urgency and rebelliousness in his request was tempting. With a deep breath, you went to slip something warmer on, taking care to not strip anything off while Brian stood nearby. Tying up the laces on your trainers, you walked to the window, and threw your legs over the ledge. Brian grabbed your hand to help you down, and you pushed off, landing softly on the frosty grass below.

“So, where are you taking me?” You folded your arms around yourself, already missing the warmth of your bedroom. 

Brian carefully closed the window, leaving it cracked enough to make it easy for you to open it up again. He blew out, his breath visible in the nippy night air. You began to walk.

“Nowhere in particular.” He shrugged.

“There’s no plan? I came out here for nothing?”

“Not nothing. The plan is that we aren’t going somewhere specific.”

“I expected better things from you,” you tutted.

“What? Spontaneity is cool.”

“No, the temperature is cool. Your bout of spontaneity is idiotic.”

Brian smiled from ear to ear. “Yeah, but you agreed to it.”

Your eyes narrowed into slits. Brian laughed at you. Or maybe he was laughing at himself. You couldn’t be sure.

“Is there a general idea of what we’re doing, at least?”

“If you’re going to keep complaining like that, I’ll wander aimlessly out of spite.”

“But you just told me you were going to do that, so it’s not much of a threat.” You paused, thinking. “And how is that different from what we are doing now?”

“Because I have ideas.”

“Could you be more vague?”

“Maybe.”

* * *

The sky seemed to get darker and clearer as your adventure lengthened. Lights streaming from neighbors’ homes flicked off one by one, leaving you traipsing in the interspersed rays of functioning streetlamps. The ground was icy, some patches proving to be more treacherous than others. You gripped onto Brian’s sleeve for balance; he was surprisingly stable.

“We should be going back.” You chewed on your lip.

“Scared to get caught, Y/N?”

“I mean, if my parents knew I was out alone with a boy, they’d be very angry.” You gave Brian a provoking look. “Good thing it’s just you.”

His gaze faltered, splitting away from you to the night sky.

“You know I’m just teasing, Bri.”

“Hmm? Oh, it’s fine, I know.”

You followed his eyes, curious about what he was so fixated on.

“Can we go to one last place?” Brian’s voice was thick, but out of focus. He didn’t look at you, still staring into the distance. You stopped walking, jerking his arm to tell him to stop with you.

“Will you tell me where?”

“No.”

“Then, there’s your answer.”

He finally came back to you, a plea spilling from his expression. The incandescent glow emanating from the other side of the street poured over his features. Golden hues broke through the hazel strands in his eyes, almost shimmering. You silently gasped at the mesmerizing effect.

God, he’s pretty.

Brian was taken aback by the look on your face, mistaking awe for ailment.

“Are you alright, love?”

You coughed, releasing a puff into the cold. “I...I’m fine.” You tried to repress the blush pushing its way to the surface of your face, but to no avail. Brian didn’t think much of your pink shade, considering it to be the product of the frigid November night.

“We can go back, if you’d like.”

You shook your head. “I’d actually prefer to keep going. I want to see this ‘one last place’ you’ve been thinking about.”

He gave a half-hearted smile, rubbing a finger under your chin. “If you’re sure you feel okay.”

“I’m up to it.” You cuddled into your layers. “It’s thrilling.”

“That’s what I was going for.” Brian beamed. “Part of my bad boy reputation.”

“Oh, yeah. If you’re a bad boy, Brian Harold May, then I’m a circus performer.”

“Hey! I can be dangerous and exciting.”

You giggled at his defensive glare. It was not very intimidating coming from your stringy friend wearing an oversized jumper, complete with a penguin pin.

“You know I love you, Bri, but those are the last two words that would come to mind when describing you.”

He got lost after you had said “I love you, Bri”. 

The delicate flutter of your eyelashes, the gentle quiver of your lips, they captured his attention.

“C’mon, we should go if we want to get there in a timely fashion,” you tugged on the cuff of a sleeve, before slipping your hand into his. 

Brian took a shallow breath.

“Alright.”

* * *

You were led down crisscrossing avenues, still joined at the wrist to your rushing companion. Sometimes, it felt as though he was simply dragging you along behind him, you couldn’t catch up completely with his long strides. Luckily for you, he never slipped.

“Christ, Brian, how far is this place?”

“It’s fairly long away.” His face expressed the confusion he felt in his own words. “We’ll get there momentarily.”

“You do realize we have to walk back, don’t you?”

Brian ran his tongue over his chapped lips. “So we won’t take the scenic route on our way home.”

“This is the scenic route? It’s pitch black outside, you can’t see a thing.” You gestured to the darkened landscape surrounding the pair of you.

“And I’m sure it’s even more scenic in the daylight.”

“Scenic-er?” You snipped, playing off of him. He bobbed his head. 

“Exactly. You get it.” 

The conversation dropped.

Brian’s demeanor grew faintly more excited, you could tell that the destination was close.

After a few more steps, a sharp turn to the right, and a quick jaunt through a bunch of trees, he stopped.

“We’ve arrived.” You released the hold you had maintained on his hand. He took it as an opportunity to extend his arms in front of him, “Behold!” The view Brian brought you to resulted in a barely perceptible hitch in your breath.

A small wooden bridge sitting over a frozen brook, seemingly leading to nowhere, was strung up in glimmering strands of multicolored fairy lights. Since the bridge was hidden behind foliage, you couldn’t see it from the road.

You swiftly went to the site, unable to swipe the smile from your frostbitten face. The glee you felt manifested in your motions, down to the very wiggle of your gloved fingertips. Brian leaned against the end of the bridge, watching with pure delight as you explored the setup.

As if from nowhere, Brian pulled out a camera and shot an unplanned photo of you. Honest and raw, he felt as though it would show your most obscure self.

Seeing the flash, you snapped your head to see the source. Realizing what Brian had done, you stomped over to him with a ludic flair.

“Don’t take pictures of me!” You reached for the camera. “You didn’t say I’d have to be cute for our spontaneous night walk! I look terrible.”

Brian held it high over your head, just out of reach even if you hopped. A low tickle came from his chest, coming out as a deep, hearty chuckle.

“Give it to me, you arse!”

“Use nice words.”

“Please give it to me?”

Brian didn’t lower his hand. You scowled.

“Liar.”

“I didn’t say I would give it to you if you said it more politely. Just told you to use nicer words.”

“Fuck you,” you shrieked as you made one more desperate attempt to grab it. When you were unsuccessful, you moved your eyes down Brian’s arm, stopping at his watch. You squinted to get a better look at the time, then gasped quite audibly. “Fuck me.”

Brian stood there awkwardly, contemplating what to say, but you started talking again before he had the chance to say anything.

“It’s almost one in the morning.”

He gave you a blank stare.

You shifted to meet his line of sight. “We’re dead.”

--1973--

“Good afternoon, Nurse Y/L/N.”

You released your grip and looked up to see who had approached you.

“Hello, Doctor Carlisle.” A thin-lipped grin forced its way over your face. “Happy Christmas.”

“The same to you.”

“Thank you.”

Neither of you said anything for just long enough to make it uncomfortable.

“Have any evening plans?”

“Well,” you pretended to think about it. “I’m here until the wee hours of the morning, and then I’ll be sleeping.”

He laughed. “Of course. Married to the job.”

“No. It’s just a committed relationship.”

“Right.”

The interaction lulled.

“I get off in about two hours.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. “Are you doing anything for Christmas?”

Arthur looked overjoyed that you had taken an interest. “My sister’s staying in town for the week.”

“That’s nice.”

“Do you have any sisters?”

“Ha. Uh, no I don’t.”

“Brothers?”

“Just some close friends.” You were trying to get out of the strange conversation. He didn’t get the hint.

“Ah. Friends are good.”

“...Yes.” What’s with this guy? Is he incapable of having a normal conversation? “Well, my break is up. Good talk, Doctor.” You rose up from your chair and left at a hurried pace.

_______________

December 26

“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas…”

You opened one eye, registering the sound of Brian’s voice coming from outside your room.

“Just like the ones I used to know.”

The distinct clatter of cooking came in from the kitchen. Groaning, you pushed the sheets off of you, rubbing a hand over your face.

“Where the treetops glisten, and children listen, lala ladada dada.” He forgot the second half of the line, improvising syllables in tune.

You cracked open the door to peek out. 

Brian was blissfully shuffling around the kitchen, his hair tied up. 

You padded through the living room to the record player, and began to sift through your joint collection. Beatles. Beatles. Bowie. Beatles. Landing on “Madman Across the Water”, you lifted the Elton John album from the crate that held your vinyls, and set it under the needle.

The opening motif of “Tiny Dancer” rang through the flat. It made your presence known to Brian.

You joined him in the kitchen, hoisting yourself onto a vacant counter to watch him work. His body blocked whatever he was making.

“It’s not very Christmassy,” Brian spoke softly, referring to the music you selected.

“It’s not Christmas.” You gently kicked your dangling legs to the rhythm. “And besides, our celebrations aren’t exactly Christmassy, either. It’s more cultural than religious.”

He ceded. “Fine. It’s not especially festive.”

“Elton John’s always festive!”

Brian was amused with your feisty behavior. You paused.

“How did you know when to start making food, Bri?”

“Who knows? I’ve never been good at timing.”

“You’re a professional musician, you git.”

Of course, he was implying something different. It went completely over your head.

“The others might stop by later.”

“I was kind of hoping it could just be us today,” you mumbled. You felt bad saying it aloud, but you also wanted your opinion to be heard.

Brain turned to you, holding a spatula in a slightly threatening manner. You finally noticed that he was making pancakes. It made you happy.

“They miss you, haven’t seen you since we got back.”

“Oh, they can’t get enough of me, eh?” An eyebrow arched. “The feeling’s not mutual.”

“I promise they’ll behave.”

“Don’t write checks you can’t cash, Bri.”

“I’ll put the fear of god into them.”

You snickered. “I’d like to see you try.”

“You don’t think I can be imposing?”

“Love, I’m more physically imposing than you.” 

Brian swatted the spatula in your direction and turned back to the stove. You hopped down to stand next to him. 

“Can I at least give you your gift while we’re alone?”

That piqued his interest.

“I’ll allow it,” he choked.

Before it even came out of his mouth, you were darting off to your bedroom to grab his present.

Brian flipped pancakes over while waiting for you to return.

You came back holding a tiny box. He looked at it curiously, set down his spatula, and gingerly took the gift from you. “It’s not much, sorry—”

Brian’s eyes lit up as he pulled a simple silver ring from the package. “It’s lovely, Y/N.”

You sighed, pleased with his reaction. “I know you like jewelry, and some of the stuff Freddie flashes around are a little too glitzy...”

“You don’t have to defend yourself, my love.”

Brian knew he made a mistake. You noticed the change in his usual pet name for you.

My love.

Neither of you addressed the slip.

“I adore it.” He timidly kissed you on the forehead, and slipped the band around his pinky. Holding out his hand to admire the gift, Brian wistfully smiled at the thought of you being his love.

Hiding your face, you smiled at the thought too.

A bashful silence took over.

Eventually, Brian cleared his throat. “Shall we eat?”

You nodded, and grabbed two plates from the cupboard. He shoveled a few pancakes onto each of them, picked up some silverware, and followed you out into the common space.

Brian sat in his usual seat, and you in yours.

With a shy grin exchanged, you both took a bite simultaneously.

“How are they?” He looked to you. “Good?”

You tilted your head.

“Eh,” you teased. “Not enough salt.”

[tinybookgirl]

Phone Calls are Extremely Stressful- Chapter 3

((Human AU Amethyst meets her birth sisters))

Amethyst fell onto the couch the moment they entered the apartment.

“That was…” she paused. “Amazing.”

And it had been, especially after Steven showed up and made things ten times less awkward. They had finally gotten around to actually ordering pizza, and once she was no longer struggling to say a single word, Lapis and Peridot had rejoined the table as well. Amethyst had just meet her sisters. Real, actual, biological sisters.

“You shouldn’t have been nervous,” Peridot sat herself next to Amethyst. “We told you it would be fine.”

Lapis snorted. “You said nothing helpful.”

“I was extremely helpful!”

Amethyst nudged Peridot with her foot. “No, you weren't.” She sat up. “But who cares about that because I have sisters now.” She flopped down onto her back again. “And Steven invited them to his party, and they’re coming.”

“So?” Lapis sat on the other side of Amethyst. “You like them.”

Amethyst threw her arm over her face. “I do like them. But Steven invites everyone. Which means they’ll end up meeting everyone.”

“We met everyone.” Lapis said.

“You are my girlfriends. These are my sisters. Somehow, that is worse.”

“Tell them not to come,” Lapis suggested.

“I can’t tell them that!” Amethyst moved her arm. “I want them to like me!’

“Then let them come.” Lapis said.

Amethyst groaned.

Amethyst scanned over the cars gathered around the house as they drove up. Lapis was stuck at work, so it was just her and Peridot. She was slightly relieved to see that it didn’t look like any of the Deitz girls were here yet. Maybe something had come up and they would be able to come at all. She shook her head. Lapis and Peridot were right. She wanted them here. She wanted to hang out with them. And if that meant them meeting every single person in Beach City… then that would have to do.

“Amethyst!” Steven was on the porch, dressed in an truly hideous Hanukkah sweater. He ran down to the street as Amethyst and Peridot got out of the car.

Steven grabbed one of Amethyst’s and Peridots hands, tugging them inside. “Your sisters are coming, right?! I was telling Pearl and Garnet about it and they think it’s really cool-”

Amethyst laughed, pulling Steven off their arms. She ruffled Stevens hair. “Yes. They’re coming.”

The house was already half full of people. Holiday music was playing and Amethyst recognized as something Greg had written. She was a tad impressed Steven had convinced Greg to actually let him play it. There was food and decorations all around, and Steven had been sure to pull out plenty of extra chairs.

Steven grinned, “Yes! They were so cool! Do you think they’ll want to come to more stuff? Cause I can make sure to invite them next time-”

“Slow down” Amethyst urged, “Let’s just see how this goes, alright?”

Peridot had gone off and was talking to Pearl about something. Amethyst was slumped on the couch with a glass of punch. She wished there was alcohol but Steven insisted parties were more fun without it.

“Hey, mini.”

Amethyst looked up. She sat up straight, almost spilling her cup when she saw Kaylee standing in front of her, dressed in a leather jacket.

“Hey! When did you guys get here?”

Kaylee sat herself on the couch next to Amethyst. “About five minutes ago. Steven showed up and insisted on introducing us to everybody. I told him I had to use the bathroom and slipped off. Cause I don’t feel like personally meeting every single person here.”

Amethyst looked around at the crowded room. “Steven throws pretty big parties.” She took a sip from her cup. “Did you call me Minnie? Like, the mouse?”

Kaylee laughed, “Like you being short.”

“I’m not that short!” Amethyst argued even though it was clearly a lie. She was shorter than any of the Deitz girls, and shorter than most of the other party guests as well. She didn’t argue against the nickname. She was thrilled that Kaylee had decided to give her one.

“So,” Amethyst said after a second. “What’s being a security guard like?”

“Boring mostly,” Kaylee shrugged. “I mean, even in Empire City people don’t steal as much as you’d think. Mostly I just end up dealing with lost kids.”

“Does that happen a lot?”

“Couple times a day. I think they always come to me cause I’m one of like, three girl security guards in the whole place.”

Amethyst considered that. “At least your bathroom isn’t crowded.”

Kaylee burst into laughter. Amethyst felt another thrill.

Kaylee leaned back as the laughter subsided. “Man, I wish we found you sooner.”

Amethyst hoped having sisters would never feel normal. She liked it this way, as though every single interaction with one of them was the most amazing thing on the planet. She liked it feeling special.

“How did you find me anyway?” Amethyst asked.

“We started looking a couple years ago,” Kaylee said. “Then Jay saw a newspaper article about the wrestling tournament you were in and decided you kind of looked like us.” She shrugged and nudged Amethyst with her shoulder. “We dug around and now here we are. At the Hanukkah party for our little sister’s brother.”

Elle suddenly sat herself next to Amethyst, followed shortly by Gina and Jayna. Gina grabbed a stray chair and pulled in in front of them, while Jayna took the place next to Kaylee.

“Why is everyone you know named after a rock?” Elle asked.

“Everyone I know is not named after a rock!” Amethyst argued,

Elle began counting on her fingers. “Let’s see, your name is Amethyst, you’re dating two girls named Peridot and Lapis Lazuli. Steven just introduced us to Pearl, Garnet, Fluorite, Rhodonite, Ruby, Sapphire, Padparadscha-”

“Wasn’t the girl you fought in that wrestling tournament named Jasper?” Jay interjected.

“Fine,” Amethyst relented. “I know a lot of people named after rocks. In my defense-” she added. “Ruby and Sapphire’s weird family naming conventions are not my fault.”

“Your last name is a rock too.” Gina added.

Amethyst groaned. “I can’t win this can I?”

“No,” Jay said. “You can’t.”

The party was finally ending after a couple hours. Amethyst had spent most of it talking to her sisters in the corner, occasionally joined by Steven or Peridot. By now, almost everyone had gone home, including the Deitz’s who said they wanted to get back to Empire City before it got too late.

Amethyst was in the kitchen with Pearl, helping her put away the leftover food. Amethyst snapped the lid onto a container of cookies.

“Hey, can Peridot and I take these?”

Pearl glanced over, busy rearranging more containers in the fridge. “You might as well,” She stood up straight and shut the fridge. “There’s too many leftovers just for Steven.”

Amethyst set the container aside so she wouldn’t forget it. “Thanks.”

“Steven introduced us to your sisters.” Pearl said suddenly.

Amethyst turned around to look at her. “What do you think?”

Pearl was silent for a moment. “They seem like lovely girls.”

“They’re amazing,” Amethyst said, unable to keep herself from smiling. “I like talking to them and having them in my phone and-” She looked out to the living room where Garnet was helping Steven take down the streamers he had hung up. “I like having them to come to stuff like this too.”

Pearl nodded as she put away unused paper plates. “I’m glad.”

“Hey, Pearl?”

Pearl hmmed as she turned back around. “Yes?”

“Did Rose know I had any family?”

Pearl pause in the middle of gathering up the bowls and platters they had used. “There… there wasn’t a lot of information about your birth family. Rose thought that-” she set the dishes in the sink- “If there was someone who could have been taking care of you, they would have been. She thought about looking a few times- but she wanted to wait until you were old enough.”

Amethyst nodded slowly. “You think she would be glad I found them now?”

There was another second of silence. Then, “Yes. I think she would be.”

[imagine-that-one-thing]

When it rains, it pours.

I march across the damp pavements, my eyes scanning every shadow that could resemble Elise. I’ve never realised how many damn trees there are until now. Every casted, distant shadow, to my bitter disappointment, has been nothing but a strip of trees for decoration. The rain begins to pat my suit jacket, settling delicately with each second that passes by. I'm not surprised that it is beginning to rain, after all, when it rains, it pours— the statement might as well be tattooed on my arm— it appears to be fitting to my life, constantly. I have come to realise my life is similar to a circle, the events seem to be never-ending mishaps of my past and they all seem to end in tragedy. I live a life of misfortune, and the more I strive to claw my way out of it, the more it follows me like the moon. As a child, I would stare out the window late at night; while my mother would think I had fallen asleep and it was finally okay for her to allow her tears to fall while listening to Tom Petty, I would watch the moon follow our car. At such a young age, I couldn’t help but be fascinated by the moon following our car with its ghostly-silver disc structure. 

I notice a figure stepping closer to me, their silhouette gracefully walking closer in the dimly lit path. It takes me a moment to realise the woman shuffling closer to me is Elise, “where the hell have you been?” I immediately challenge with a stern tone and piercing eyes. My tone of voice wasn’t meant to come out so strong, but I can’t help myself. It is in my nature to be protective.

It doesn’t take long for me to notice melancholy in her eyes, eyes that usually have a come-hither attraction, but tonight they lack the charm which breaks my heart, “come here, are you hurt?” I lower my voice but she flinches away from me, something that breaks my heart even further, “hey, I’m not going to hurt you, I’m sorry for raising my voice. Let’s get out of the rain,” I instruct tenderly, benevolently leading her undercover.

I slide my jacket off my broad shoulders and swiftly place it over her shoulders, “you scared the fuck out of me, Elle,” I break the silence and she turns to bury herself into me. The minute I feel her resting against me, I know there is nothing more I need to do than wrap my arms around her. And that is exactly what I do; I wrap my arms around her and hold her close.

“I didn’t mean to, I was just trying to help,” Elise mumbles into me before she lifts her head off my chest and her glossy eyes look up at me.

“What do you mean?” I question, unaware of what she’s referring to, how or what she was trying to help.

“We need to go to the hotel,” Elise states as she pulls away from me, “you’ll understand,” is all she says before she steps down the stone steps and into the rain. She turns to look at me, waiting for me to follow her, and for a brief moment, I wonder to myself on what could possibly be wrong; part of me doesn’t want to find out what the problem is. I have enough problems to deal with as it is, I don’t want more. Then again, as I have already stated, when it rains, it pours.

I requested a cab ride to the hotel, much against Elise’s wishes. I wasn’t going to allow her to walk in the cold rain, even if the hotel is just around the block.

What kind of man would I be to let a lady walk in the cold rain on such a night? It may be mid-summer, but it doesn’t mean a lady should walk in the rain.

The cab ride to the hotel was crowded with nothing but my favourite thing… silence. And it destroyed me every minute of the way. I love to be left alone in silence, but I cannot stand when I am stuck in dreaded silence with someone beside me. It makes me feel anxious to be left silent and unaware of what the fuck is going on. I can thank my father for my resentment towards silence when I am not alone. There were innumerable times as a child that I had to remain in silence in the same room as my father. It’s tormenting when you have to stay soundless in a room when you aren’t alone. Countless times I stared at the same vacant wall attempting to pacify my racing thoughts and emotions while my father rocked in the rocking chair with a beer in his left hand and the remote in the right.

I’m not quite sure what it was with him that refused to hear my sister and I. Perhaps it was the whole concept that if he can’t hear us, we don’t have to exist; perhaps he just desired to torment us in an unrelenting way to scar us for life. It worked. I wish I could say his emotional abuse didn’t work on me, but it did, it still haunts me. There are parts that I will never be able to disregard, no matter how hard I try to forget the memories of the past, they won't have mercy on me.

I open the door to my hotel room, and I allow Elise to step inside first, she takes the lead and I follow her down the small entryway before we reach the bed. A king size bed that was left empty when the two of us left for the night.

I stop in my tracks, and I stare at the figure on the bed that is curled up and fast asleep.

I glance towards Elise for answers on why the hell my sister is in New York, and why the hell she is passed out on our bed. I can smell the alcohol that has saturated my sister’s clothes from where I stand. I can only assume she stumbled her way to a bar somewhere and found herself at the bottom of a bottle. I wish I could say I’m surprised, but I’m not; I’m disappointed.

“I don’t understand why you’re so quiet and distant? Or why you look like you’ve been crying.” I glance towards Elise, wanting answers without having to demand them.

“I got a call from your sister's phone, the barman was nice enough to call someone, who happened to be me, to come to get her because she was far from sober. I helped her back here and she finally fell asleep while I was walking back to you,” Elise briefly informs me.

“Why is she here?”

“I don’t know.”

“And why have you been crying?”

Elise’s shoulders lift into a brief shrug, “Harry, I’m just tired and would like to go to bed.”

I profoundly sigh and work my fingers through my hair, “okay,” I nod, my head racing at a hundred miles an hour with so many damn questions that have no damn answers. Like how the fuck my sister managed to afford the cost of a flight from London to New York when she can’t even afford to help me pay off my mother's house debt.

“Fucking hell,” I mutter while I pull my phone from my jacket pocket to check my bank account. I know exactly what my sister has done. She has screwed me over for the next few weeks.

I trusted my sister with access to my debit card in case of emergencies, such as if she or Mum needed some extra groceries and couldn’t afford it. What my card was not intended for was buying flights and alcohol.

My heart sinks at the charges made to my account:

£459 for the flight.

£375 as a bar tab fee.

£75 for a cab.

£125 at The East Pole, an upper east side restaurant.

“Goddamnit,” I frustratedly hiss, taking Elise off guard as she just stares at me from her position. “Where’s my sister’s wallet?”

Elise gestures towards the glass table and I waste no time opening my sister’s handbag and opening her wallet. I am not one to usually go through someone’s personal belongings, especially a lady, but I can no longer trust my sister with my card. I take the card from her wallet and shove the card into my jacket pocket. “Don’t expect me to get any time off of work soon, Boosie over here charged my account for her flights and her damn bar tab, guess mums house won’t be getting fucking paid this week,” I grumble, regretting the day I trusted my sister with my card. I should have known better.

“I’m sorry, Harry.”

“It’s not your fault, sweetheart, I’m just frustrated and pissed,” I calm my voice, beginning to realise that I’m taking my anger out on Elise.

She doesn’t deserve the behaviour, she has done nothing wrong.

“I know,” Elise nods, “I booked her the room next door, I just couldn’t get her in it,” Elise notifies me with her dulcimer sweet voice as her hair gleams against the soft lighting of the room.

I clear my throat and swallow down the bitterness in my throat. I don't like having to admit that I can't afford things, but there is no chance in hell I can afford to pay for a room at this luxurious hotel, it isn't the cheapest damn place. “Love, I can’t afford to pay for her room. I can’t even afford this one, I’m just lucky it’s apart of the business expenses.”

“I have her room covered and paid for, it’s okay,” Elise assures me with her petite smile, but her sweet cherubic smile isn't going to comfort me and put me at ease with everything.

“Elle, it costs over £900 a night here, how the hell can you cover that?” I don't know how she can afford it, she doesn't have a job, at least as far as I know she didn't have a job while she had classes. To be honest, her and I have two diverse lifestyles; I have to work my ass off and Elise is very lucky to have her parents support her financially so she can focus on her degree.

“Well… it’s covered on my travel expenses.”

“Your travel expenses?” I question curiously, unsure of what she means. Maybe I shouldn't ask questions, it isn't really my business to know about her expenses.

“Just know it’s covered, okay?”

“I’ll pay you back as soon as I can," I sigh.

Another thing I have to add to my list of things I need to pay. I can't keep up with everything, it's going to kill me, I swear it is.

Elise shakes her head, “no need, but if you’d like to carry her to her room, that would be appreciated.” Elise motions towards my sister who is dead to the world at the moment.

I glance towards my sister, disappointed in her for what feels like the hundredth time. I am not sure how many times I have had to clean up her mess or had to carry her to her own bed after a night of finding herself at the bottom of different bottles. I love my sister, I do. But I am not sure how much more of this I can deal with. She needs help and I no longer know how to help her. I can't keep cleaning up after her and babying her as my mother does. My sister needs to own up to her problems, she can't just blame our father for everything and for her dreadful ways of dealing with life.

Part of me wishes I could settle her in a cab right now and take her to the closest alcohol treatment program and leave her there, but cornering her won't make things easy, most of the programs are voluntary programs so you can leave at any time with just a signature on a piece of paper. When we get to London, I am going to have to sit her down and give her the resources and allow her to make the decision on what she does. If I force her, she will rebel.

I take the hotel card from Elise for my sister's room before I pick my sister up in my arms and carry her out of my hotel room and to her own. "What am I going to do with you?" I whisper disappointedly with a sigh as my sister is out cold in my arms.

I place my room key on the small table and I slide my suit jacket down my arms before allowing it to overhang on the chair. I look around and find Elise isn’t on the bed or out on the balcony. I peer towards the bathroom and see the door slightly left open as the echo of the water running fills the room. “Hey, Elle do you want to go and—“ I stop my sentence as I stand in the doorway of the bathroom, my eyes catching Elise’s skin that was left perfectly flawless when I last saw it.

In front of me, at this moment, my blood boils at the scene of scratches on her arm and bruises forming on her side. Elise’s eyes grow wide as she notices me staring at her while she stands with her dress covering from her hips down as the top half of the dress hangs down. “I didn’t mean to intrude,” I quickly assure her, suddenly feeling like such a prick for just walking to the bathroom and peering in while she stands in front of the mirror in just a bra and half her dress on. It was just a lapse of judgment, I wasn’t thinking when I walked over here, it felt normal to me. I also figured she was already in the shower. “But what the fuck happened to you? And don’t try and change the subject.”

I’m not sure how I could have missed the scratches on her arm earlier, but then again I was more concerned with knowing she was safe than checking every inch of her body.

“Please don’t be mad, it was an accident.”

“What was?” I ask, grabbing a small cloth and wetting it with warm water.

“Your sister isn’t much of a fan of me,” Elise informs me, and I feel my heart sink as I swallow hard and press my anger to the small cloth in my hand, squeezing the water out harshly.

“My sister did this?” I clear my throat and turn back towards Elise, taking her arm with my hand and gently pressing the warm cloth her scratched arm.

“She didn’t mean any of it. She was just intoxicated, Harry.” Elise defends my sister.

I never thought the day would come where my girlfriend would have to defend my sister for her intoxicated actions. I never thought I’d see the day where my sister resembles my father all too well.

“I’m sorry, Elise. I need you to do me a favour.”

“What is it?”

“One, don’t leave without telling someone where you’re going, you scared the fuck out of me tonight. Two, if anything happens with my sister and she’s drunk, you do not need to deal with her, because this,” I gesture towards Elise’s arm and the small part of her body that has begun to lightly bruise, “is not acceptable. She has no damn right to do this to anybody. She’s lucky it was you and not someone who’ll knock her ass out and teach her a lesson, but when she wakes up in the morning she’ll be getting one hell of a damn lesson from me.” I mutter, far from thrilled with the view I have. I’m mortified at the moment to have a sister.

“Harry, please just let it go. She didn’t mean to hurt me… at least not physically. She wasn’t shy with her words though, I think that was intentional.”

“Elle, I’m so sorry, I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

“It isn’t your fault,” Elise assures me with her typically charming smile that never fails to soften my heart.

Unfortunately, no matter how much she smiles at me and tries to comfort me, I can’t wrap my head around my sister's actions— they remind me too much of my father— and that scares the fuck out of me.

“What was the question you were going to ask me?” Elise changes the subject, reminding me of why I came to the bathroom, to begin with.

“Oh, I was going to ask if you wanted to go to that small coffee shop on the corner, I went there this morning and it reminded me of that one place we went when we first met.”

“Ah, yes, the night we got cake and you worked your charm on me,” Elise nods with a grin, “sure, just let me shower,” Elise adds.

“My charm worked? Huh, you seemed like you didn’t want a bar of me, love,” I chuckle playfully, “if you like, I can run down to the coffee shop and get what you’d like?”

Elise shakes her head, “no, we can go together, it will be nice. Ehhh…” Elise trails off, grinning ear to ear, “I didn’t want a bar of you, but you seemed determined and sweet.”

“Mhm,” I hum, “thought you were worth the chase. Enjoy your shower,” I kiss her cheek before walking out, leaving her to peacefully shower.

The Next Day:

June 22nd, 2015.

I swipe the room key to my sister's room and push open the door, delighted to have the honour of waking my sister up at this ungodly hour. Well, for her it’s ungodly, for me it’s a reality.

I saunter towards the large window that is covered by dark curtains and I waste no time pulling them out to reveal the early morning rays and the brightness of the city this morning.

I turn on my heel and smile the moment my sister flinches and wakes up at the sudden light exposure.

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” I inform my sister the second I see her eyes open and her body move under the sheets of the hotel bed.

She grumbles and huffs as she looks towards me, “it’s too early,” she groans while waving me away with her hand. “Close the curtains,” she demands, shielding her eyes with her arm.

I shake my head, “it’s eight, get your fuckin’ ass up, I have a meeting at ten and we need to talk,” I demand. There’s no time for me to be nice, she doesn’t deserve for me to be nice. She has done one too many things without understanding the damn consequences and I’ll be damned if I allow her to get away with it.

“What stick is up your ass this morning?” My sister mumbles while she sits up and presses her hand to her forehead, “do you have any pain relief? My head is killing me.”

“No,” I shake my head, “you can deal with it, it was self-inflicted.”

“Why are you being such a dickhead?” My sister questions, her eyes burning into me, but they don’t intimate me or give me a reason to adjust my tone.

“This is how this conversation is going to go, you’re going to tell me why the fuck you’re here and why you thought it was okay to charge my card, which I have to pay for. I know you have no damn care in the world but I can’t pay all the expenses, plus what you decide to add.”

My sister rolls her eyes at me, and to an extent, it infuriates me to the point I want to smother her with a damn pillow for a second. “You can afford it, you have this big business job now.”

I take a breath and bite the inside of my cheek for a moment, deciding not to raise my voice or react to her unnecessary comment. “No, I can’t. Not that my finances are any of your bloody business. Why are you here?”

My sister grows quiet for a moment, and by the way her eyes look down at the comforter, I can tell her brain is ticking away with thoughts. “Because I needed my brother, but clearly I made a mistake coming here.”

“You didn’t need me. You needed an excuse to find a bar. You went to a bar instead of coming to me. Now, what’s going on?”

“I tried calling you… you never answered. I just— I felt alone and I wanted my brother and you were too damn far away.”

“I was busy, working. I can’t be at your beckon call. You came here and went straight to a bloody bar,” I respond unsure of how to handle my sister. I can’t shower her with love and tell her it is okay… because this far from okay, but I am not sure if tough love will help the case either. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. “You need to stop the drinking, it’s out of control. You’re out of control. You’re turning into Dad.”

My sister shakes her head at me in clear denial, “you’re overacting.”

“You physically hurt my girlfriend, I’m not overreacting. There’s no telling how many other people you’ve hurt without us knowing.”

“No, I didn’t,” My sister shakes her head, looking at me with shocked eyes. “Did, I? Really?” She softly asks. I can’t tell if she seems remorseful or not; I’m at the point where I don’t really know who the woman is that is in front of me. This isn’t the same sister that would sit with me in the closet when our parents were arguing.

“Yeah, you did. So don’t tell me you’re not turning into Dad. If you don’t stop drinking and help yourself, you’re going to end up just like him, miserable and alone.”

“I need to apologise to her… is it bad? I want to say sorry.”

“She’s asleep at the moment, what you’re going to do is sober up fully, and you’re not going to leave this damn room until I get back.”

“What am I supposed to do for food?”

“My girlfriend, who you manhandled, was kind enough to make sure that room service would be delivered.”

“I’m going to be bored though,” my sister huffs, looking around the four walls that she needs to get used to for the next few hours. Her boredom is not of my concern, maybe she should have stayed back home.

“Tough luck,” I shrug, “I need to get to my damn meeting, try not to fuck up anything while I’m gone.”

“I’m sorry, Harry.”

I shake my head, “no, no you’re not. I’ve heard the sorry speech before.”

“I mean it, Harry.”

“I don’t have time for this… just don’t leave the damn room. Goodbye,” I mutter, turning to walk towards the door and not looking back.

I have heard the sorry speeches so many damn times that I don’t believe any of them, I’ve heard them from my mother and I have heard them from my sister. The truth is, sorry is just a word people throw around to cover up their actions and their shitty behaviour. They use saying sorry as a shield to hide behind when they don’t want to change because saying sorry is easier than truly changing, to begin with.

Later that night.

Tonight is the last night in New York, and as much as I would prefer to be spending it at a nice restaurant or simply in bed getting some much-needed sleep, I am at one last business function, one of the many that I will have to get used to. These business events are going to become a constant reality for me if I can succeed with my own endeavours and business. To my misfortune, I have spent most my night doing everything possible to avoid Elise’s sister, principally because she thinks it is okay to attempt to work her charm on me in order to get her way with her funds. I don’t know why Jamie put me in charge of the damn portfolio, and to be quite honest, I resent him for it at the moment. Elouisa is relentless and fucking bothersome, she thinks the world owes her something, in a sense, she is a spoilt brat who thinks she is entitled.

I stand at the bar, trying to scope the room for who I should talk to next. Jamie hasn’t given me much of a briefing for tonight, in a way, he is dangling me over a swarm of hungry sharks. I can’t lie, the men here seem very intimidating, they’re older than me and have no intentions of trying to do business with someone my age. They look down on me, because who would trust the rookie?

Most of the individuals here are either too snobby to have any sort of conversation with me because I am young and new, or they’re making sly remarks about how my girlfriend is apart of one of the wealthiest families to have businesses. It wasn’t intentional. I didn’t seek out to find Elise, if I had of known that her father was Conrad and her Uncle was Jamie, I probably would have bolted in the other direction. Purely because some of my fears are coming true. People assume I have this job thanks to her, they think I was given a pity hand out. I know I shouldn’t give a damn about what people think, but the business world is aggressive, one wrong move can annihilate me in the business world.

I glance down at the watch on my wrist and let out a breath of relief. I can finally leave. Since I worked overtime in the office, Jamie granted me permission to leave the event tonight early. It was his notion, and quite honestly, I am thrilled about it. I can’t wait to crawl into bed without any worries. I don’t need to fret about my sister, I put her on a flight back home on my late afternoon break, I finished my client reports and overviews, and the meetings today with investors went well. All I have to worry about is catching my flight and starting on my responsibilities when I land. Jamie wants me to move into one of the office spaces in London since I have declined New York and he wants me to fully be apart of his global equity funds project. If the concept succeeds, it could very well set me up perfectly.

I make my way around the groups of socialising men and women, my eyes keeping a look out for Elise, she told me she was stepping out for a moment to get some air, and I’m not quite sure whether to wait around in here for her or to attempt to find her. I decide to go look for her, mainly because I am eager to leave and get some rest. The last few nights have been exhausting mentally and physically.

My search for Elise comes to an end when I belatedly find her in the lobby with her sister. Their voices seem raised and for a moment I contemplate walking back into the venue and leaving the two of them to hash out whatever is going on. And against my better judgement, I don’t walk back inside, instead, I walk closer to Elise without saying a word.

“Maybe if you’d stop spending your money and you’d listen to Dad you wouldn’t be in this predicament trying to access the trust funds.”

“Dads investments screwed me over.”

Elise shakes her head, “you screwed yourself over because you didn’t listen, grow up Elouisa.”

“For once can you be on my side? Do you just side with them to keep your money?”

I’m not surprised this argument is revolving around money, Elouisa is definitely relentless and money hungry, she will do and say whatever she needs to in order to get her way.

“If you can't make the right decisions that’s your damn problem, I’m not helping you with getting your trust fund access just because you want to go off and get married… Stop being greedy, Mum and Dad said they’d pay a set amount.”

“Well, that set amount isn’t enough. Can’t you help me out? Harry?”

“Well, then I guess you better get to working or making better financial decisions. Leave him out of this.” Elise is quick to shut down the idea of me being dragged into the mess that is between the two of them. I don’t want to be in the middle of it, if I am being honest, I probably should have walked back inside, I am starting to regret my decision of going against my thoughts. Damnit.

“I don’t know why I bother with you.”

“I don’t know either, but you need to appreciate what you’re given and pay for what they don’t with your own money. This isn’t a necessity, this is a wedding, you are being greedy.”

“We aren’t all sitting on over £800,000 thanks to Dad guiding you with your investments,” Elouisa blurts out for the three of us and possibly for those around to overhear.

“Shh, keep your voice down,” Elise scolds and for a split second, my eyes grow wide.

Did she just say eight-hundred-thousand? There’s no way.

“Why? Aren’t you proud to have Dad’s help?”

“I didn’t get Dads help, and how much I have is nobody’s business. Fucking leave, you’re just here to start things.” Elise murmurs unhappily, gesturing for her sister to march herself out the doors.

Elise’s sister rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest as a power move to appear more intimidating. “Why don’t you leave? You’re not needed here, you’re just your boyfriend's trophy girl for the night.” Elouisa takes a cheap shot towards Elise and immediately I notice Elise slump her shoulders in defeat.

Surely she doesn’t believe a word that her sister has spoken. She isn’t a trophy of any sort.

I shake my head and respectfully interject the argument, “hey, now, that’s not true,” I begin, keeping my voice low and calm, “she’s not a trophy or an object to me… we’re about to leave, I’ll have a revised file sent to you by midday tomorrow. Come on, sweetheart,” I subtly dismiss the discussion the two were brewing, and I caress my hand into the small of Elise’s back to guide her away. I now see what Elise means when she says they don’t get along very well.

There’s clearly a lot of bad blood between the two of them; I can perceive the jealousy in Eloisa's eyes and the constant demand to belittle people.

I guide Elise towards the gold trim doors and I open the door for her to step out first. Elise doesn’t grant me her usual gentle smile accompanied by a thank you, no. Instead, I’m left with a resentful feeling between the two of us.

“You didn’t need to defend me,” Elise murmurs the second we step outside of the building.

I stop in my tracks and she lets go of my hand, turning to glance at me in a way I’ve never seen her look at me. Usually, she has this luminous glow to her eyes, but right now, they’re dismal and uninviting.

“Are you mad at me for it?” I challenge.

“I can defend myself, Harry. I don’t need you swooping in.” Elise’s words come off with a rigid tone and before I can reply, she continues to keep shuffling away from me.

I benevolently grab her wrist and discreetly pull her back to me, “hey, get used to it, I know you can defend yourself but it’s my damn honour to make sure you don’t have to defend yourself on your own. I’m not going to let people walk all over you, nor am I going to let anyone think you’re just a trophy to me. You’re my girlfriend, it’s my duty to care for you and defend you. Get used to it, Elise.” I inform Elise, not regretful in the slightest for defending Elise. Perhaps it’s my protective side kicking in, but whatever it is, I refuse to let anyone treat Elise like a doormat.

Elise shakes her head, and for once she doesn’t say anything, instead, she moves away from me and steps towards the car. I trail behind her, allowing her to stay just a few steps in front of me so she can have her space.

We’ve never had such an argument, and I’m not sure what I’m meant to do or what she expects. I can only assume this is going to be the start of a learning progress for the two of us when it comes to dealing with each other during disagreements.

Elise slides into the car and I settle beside her, nothing but silence filling the space between us while the driver pulls out onto the road.

The silence kills me, it’s like a suffocating poison filling my senses and taking over my lungs. The silent treatment is something I’ve never done well with, mainly because it’s something I had to go through dealing with as a child.

There was nothing more tormenting than the silence of my father as I was forced to sit inaudibly while he rocked back and forth in his chair with a bottle of beer in his hand. The silent treatment was regularly a punishment, and to most people, it would be a blessing to not be yelled at and to be granted nothing but silence. But the silence would shred me to my core because all I desired was validation, all I wanted was to be noticed, to be heard, but all I got was disregarded and overpowered to deal with the manipulation tactic that has fucked me up.

I abhor silence.

“Elise—“ I begin but to my displeasure, she swiftly cuts me off.

“Drop it, Harry.”

I take a moment to think, mainly because I don’t want to be selfish and demand her to talk when she doesn’t want to. I take a breath and gaze out the window, deciding to swallow down my own feelings and issues to grant her what she wants.

❦ ❦ ❦

After accompanying Elise to the hotel room, I concluded it was best for me to go for a walk to clear my own head, well, to at least attempt to clear my head and come up with an appropriate way to go about the problem or more so, problems that have arisen while in New York.

Much to my displeasure, the walk didn’t do me any justice, it didn’t solve my dilemmas or clear my thoughts, it just made me more anxious. I don’t know how to balance everything right now. I have my sister causing havoc and then I have the business issues on top of Elise’s sister and Elise.

I swipe the hotel card and push on the door when the light turns green. I quietly step in, expecting Elise to be asleep in the bed, but I’m astounded when I see the bed untouched and the balcony doors open. I place my keycard down on the table and walk closer to the doors, “it’s just me,” I immediately assure her before she can become frightened with the sound of me stepping outside. She glances over at me before diverting her eyes to gaze back down at the city below us.

With a heavy sigh, I take a seat across from her, “can we talk?” I question, observing as she has nothing but sorrow laced to her eyes.

“I prefer not.”

“Can we not play the silent game?”

“I really just don’t feel like talking.”

I nod, accepting that she doesn’t want to talk at the moment, I can’t force her to talk if she doesn’t wish to. “Okay, I’ll talk,” I inform her, striving not to sound too much like a prick— that’s not my intentions. “I can’t do the silent treatment, it rocks me to my core to be given nothing but silence for many reasons. We discussed earlier how I need to work on communication, so here it is. I can’t force you to talk to me, but don’t push me away and give me silence in return. When you’re ready to talk to me, I’ll be inside,” I say, standing to my feet and stepping closer to her where I kiss her cheek before moving towards the doors.

“Are you upset with me?” Elise’s voice softly claims and I turn to look at her.

“No. But can you explain why you’re upset with me? I don’t understand.” I request, giving her the option to tell me what the big deal is.

Elise heavily sighs and looks away from my gaze, “Because my sister is right.”

“How?”

“These events, Harry, they’re going to become a constant thing, they’re perfect for meeting new clients and whatever but they’re also excellent for women becoming the trophy on a man’s arm. The women have to dress up in gowns and look flawless, I see it all the time.” Elise begins to explain her thoughts, oh how they couldn’t be any more wrong. “Tonight people only wanted to talk to me to find out who I was with, they wanted to know about you, I was just the woman on your arm. I was a trophy girl.”

“No, that’s not true,” I shake my head, “I don’t think of you like that."

"You don't, but the rest of this business world will. That’s how it goes. You not giving me a chance to defend myself and doing it for me, only makes the statements true. My own sister doesn’t take me seriously.” Elise murmurs as she shifts her chair out and walks inside.

I step inside and close the doors behind me, “come here for a second,” I gesture for her to come to me. For a moment, she’s hesitant and ready to question me, but she doesn’t. Instead, she walks closer to me. “I’m not going to let people walk all over you, you have this niceness to you that makes it so easy. I’m sorry I didn’t let you defend yourself, it’s just in my nature to step in. Your sister saying what she said was just a way to get to you, she wanted to agitate you, and she did. She effortlessly manipulated your feelings by belittling you.” … “my point is, you’re not some trophy or any of the bad things she says or what anyone says, for that matter,” I reassure her as I encircle my arms around her and draw her closer to me, “and people didn’t just ask about me tonight. Do you know how many people asked me about you and had so many nice things to say about you?”

“You’re just saying that to boost my confidence,” Elise murmurs into me.

"Nope, you'd be surprised how many people asked me about you, you should give yourself some credit."

"Mhm, whatever you say."

I gently run my fingers through her hair as she stays pressed into my chest, “you know what sounds good? Getting in bed and watching reruns of friends,” I softly announce with a small smile as she lifts her head off my chest.

“It does,” Elise nods, “but we have a flight to catch unless Jamie isn’t finished, then it is just me who has a flight.” I shake my head, “we are finished, flights are still on schedule. The second I land I have to go to the company building.”

“Why? You’ll be jet-lagged.”

“Well, I now have my own office and more responsibilities that I have to manage so I have to get started on that work,” I inform her with a small smile, “we don’t have to leave for the airport for two more hours, how about we relax, hm?”

“Friends and relaxing it is,” Elise nods, wasting no time with leading me to the bed that I have missed since I left it this morning. 

But what I have missed more is getting to cuddle up with Elise without having to worry about one hundred different things. 

[wroughtbetwixtfanfic]

Love, Blood, And Rhetoric, Ch 4.

Fandom: The Society.

Summary: Campbell’s just trying to survive in the new world. He knows he can make it– it’s everyone else he’s worried about.

Rating: Mature.

Tags: Canon Divergence, Mental Health Issues, Family Issues, Substance Abuse, Complicated Relationships, Consent Issues, Antisocial Personality Disorder, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Mild Sexual Content, assuming Elle and Campbell are both 18 for the sake of things, Underage Drinking, PTSD, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, implied eating disorder, Fix-It, Campbell has mild ASPD, and is actively trying to not be awful

Word Count: 4295

Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 3 || Ch 5 || AO3

It was week one of the new rules.

The first day, a group text  went out saying that food people already at home could be kept, but  anything still in stores would be rationed immediately. People had three  days to pack and move homes. Work schedules were posted at the church.  Campbell felt relieved at getting clean-up duty; it would keep him busy  and give him something constructive to do. Unfortunately for Elle, she  got stuck with meal prep for lunch. She sighed, but gave him a little  wave and made her way to the cafeteria to start.

He hadn't known  what to expect when he got to the hardware store, but it was bad.  Broken out windows, a burned out car, lights smashed out. There were  some other guys already there, passing out tools and making lists of  what needed to be done. Grizz showed up with an SUV to tow away the  burned car; Campbell helped him hook it up, before moving on to some  poor sucker who was looking at a ladder like it was going to bite him.

"Here, I've got it. It's alright."

The  boy looked cautious, and a little confused, but then he offered a weak  smile of gratitude. "Thanks. I don't do well with heights."

"I don't mind." Campbell shimmied up and eyed the lights that needed to be replaced. "Have someone send me up some bulbs, yeah?"

Everyone  worked until a text went out that it was time to eat. Lunch was almost a  nightmare. Campbell had known from the start that, at some point, he  was going to have to face the fact that avoiding meat was no longer an  option. It had been ten years. It still made his stomach turn thinking  about it, but well, there wasn't going to be a lot of room to be picky.  Lucky for him, this time, there was a vegetarian option.

"I  convinced them to make a plain marinara," Cassandra said quietly as she  sat next to him at a secluded table in the corner. "But we won't be able  to do that forever."

Campbell stabbed a piece of pasta,  pretending it was his uncle's face. It was their family's fault they  were in this mess to begin with. "Thanks. We should gather up a list of  people with allergies, though. They're gonna matter more in the long  run."

"True. Lily has been asking about gluten, and I don't  think it was just a fad diet thing. We can't have what happened to Emily  happen to anyone else. Maybe we could have a dedicated space in the  kitchen for people with allergies. Or even use a kitchen in another  restaurant."

"You're also gonna have to figure out what to do for people who are diabetic or just need different meal times."

"Yeah. Well, this is just the first day; it's going to take some time to get it perfect. We'll figure something out."

"Of course." Campbell glanced up from his food. "How's the ticker going?"

"I  have enough medicine to last me a while. Longer, if I take the bare  minimum. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere any time soon."

"Good. What are you doing over here, anyways? You're just starting to get some good PR."

"Mm, I actually have a question for you. You know that I've formed a committee to help figure things out around here."

"I saw."

"I  was wondering if you wanted in." Cassandra held up her hand when Campbell opened his mouth to object. "I asked Harry, but he said no. If  you were there, I don't know, maybe he'd feel less bitter."

"Oh, I highly doubt that. We're having a little not-exactly-lovers quarrel at the moment."

"Please,  Campbell? You're realistic, you're brutally honest when it counts, and we  need someone who can be objective. It'd be good for you."

"Why don't you ask Allie?"

Cassandra  hesitated. "She and I already had a fight over that. I told her the  town would see us as the same person, but..." She let out a slow exhale.  "Allie is too impulsive. She doesn't listen."

"And you think the relationship between you two will smooth over if she knows you picked me over her? No, Cassie. Hard pass."

"You said yourself, you're the idea guy."

"Then  write my ideas down and pass them off as someone else's ideas, if you  want anyone to agree to them. No one will take you seriously with me  there, and then we'll all be fucked."

Biting her lip, Cassandra  leaned back in the plastic chair and examined her hands. "Fine. But  still, Harry is going to be a problem. You know that, right?"

Of  course he knew it. Harry wasn't a bad person, not really. Like most  guys their age, he was young and foolish and had a mouth he never really  knew when to shut. He was avoidant, insecure, and took things way too  personally. He was still pissed Cassandra won class president, and that  had been months ago. Yeah, he was gonna be a problem. Campbell munched  on his garlic bread while he considered the options, not that there were  many. "I'll see if I can talk some sense into him. Get him to join the  committee."

"I'm sure he would, if you said something. He listens to you. He trusts you."

"Maybe  he trusts me, but he doesn't listen to me. Harry's a frightened puppy  who falls behind whoever he think can protect him. But he doesn't listen  to anyone."

"But you'll try? For me?"

"For you."

"Thanks, Campbell."

She  smiled, and then she was gone, off to go do leaderish things. Campbell  sighed to himself, finishing his lunch and heading back to work; he  didn't get to see Elle, but they were all busy and trying to get used to  their new lives. There'd be time to talk later. Him, he had an entire  street of shops to help repair. With them all working together, the  hardware store was almost completely cleaned up by the end of the day.  They still needed to fix the other stores, but it was slightly less of  an eyesore, and Campbell was too tired to think about what was in the  stuff Will's crew served for dinner.

The days oozed by, and  Campbell settled into the routine of it. He really only got to see Elle  in the mornings and after the work day was over, but at least there was  always enough time to cuddle in and read or watch a movie together. It  was quiet. Peaceful. She never asked much of him, and he didn't expect  anything from her. Was that what it felt like, to have a normal life?  Whatever it was, Campbell found himself slowly, very slowly, starting to  relax.

"You're in a better mood," Cassandra commented the next  day at breakfast as she hung up prom posters outside the cafeteria;  Elle and a few others gave them a long glance as she walked by. "I think  you might be the only one."

"Who knew that all I needed to get  my head right was to ditch the assholes making me miserable? I don't  know, like all this sucks in a lot of ways, but there's no snotty soccer  moms looking down their noses at me."

"Mental health symptoms often improve with a decrease in stress."

Campbell  reflected on the last few days. Any time he walked around town, before,  he felt like people were staring at him. Whispering about him.  Paranoia? Maybe, but Campbell knew plenty of times he'd entered a room  of chattering people and had it go silent. West Ham didn't take kindly  to oddities. Since they'd arrived at this strange clone of West Ham,  though, that sort of thing had eased up. He still wasn't eager to be  around people or associate too closely with Cassandra, just in case, but  a sort of uneasy truce had fallen over the town. People were trying to  get along. Those who couldn't manage to be civil to Campbell just left  him alone. It didn't seem a coincidence that Campbell's temper had  mellowed at the same time.

He didn't expect it to last. If  there was one thing he'd noticed over the years, it was that his best  behavior came and went on a regular basis. It's not like he ever stopped  being what he was. ASPD, anxiety, depression, OCD, whatever people had  going on in their heads, it didn't just disappear, even when things  seemed better. It just meant people were coping. But it was still a  break from the constant screaming inside his head, and the ever-present  anger was just a dull simmer. He'd take it, even if it wasn't  permanently gone.

Will passed out little cards to everyone,  asking about dietary requirements. All anonymous. Elle managed to join  Campbell for lunch, filling out her little card next to him. He let her  peek over at his, and she let out a little hum. "I noticed that you  didn't eat meat. When did you become vegetarian?"

"When I was little. Saw a dead animal, never got over it."

"At least we have someone who'll eat all the tofu we've got in the freezers."

"Yum,  yum. Love me some bean curd." Campbell leaned over and kissed Elle  lightly on the shoulder. "I did wanna ask you something. I saw you  looking at the prom posters. Wanna go with me? It might be fun."

Elle's eyes brightened. "You want to take me to prom?"

"Of course I do."

"I thought you didn't like crowds?"

"Well, if it's for you, I can handle one evening of socializing."

The  thought turned his stomach a little, but Elle let out a happy sound and  tugged him into a tight hug; her curled his arms around her and  breathed in her scent, smiling. He knew he wasn't a great person. He'd  fucked up more times than he could count. But things were looking up,  and he wanted Elle to be happy. If that meant a night of dressing up  like a yuppie and swaying around to bad music, Campbell would suck it up  for her.

He sneaked a look at one of her dresses that night  when she was in the shower. Cassandra allowed the clean up crew to take  one item they wanted or needed as payment for a job well done, so  Campbell chose a royal blue dress from one of the fancy shops downtown.  It was more revealing than anything else Elle had, but Campbell had seen  the kind of magazines Elle read, and would see her fawning over the  super skinny models with sexy clothes. Maybe she was just too scared to  buy something like that for herself.

In all the way things were  changing for the better, one thing had changed for the worse. Harry was  ignoring Campbell. He'd ended up with dinner serving duty for the next  three weeks; the algorithm was random, according to Gordie, but Campbell  wondered if someone hadn't fudged it a little to teach Harry some  humility. It didn't seem to be working. Instead, Harry was withdrawing  into himself, and completely brushed past Campbell at dinner to go sit  alone, slumped over and picking at his food.

Maybe most people  didn't notice or care, but Cassandra picked up on it five or six days  after the big argument. She tugged Campbell aside at lunch, crossing her  arms over her chest. "What did you do to Harry? He's acting like he's  been kicked."

"Ever considered maybe it's the fact that he went  from being a rich pretty boy on his way to law school, to dishing out  slop and having his home become the opening scene from Home Alone?"

"Seriously? That's it?"

"I  told you some people were gonna take it hard, being forced to share  spaces. We're not the only people here with problems, you know." Campbell glanced over to where Harry was sitting. Harry looked back at him for a split second, then turn away. "Some of us have lost more than  others."

Cassandra pursed her lips. "I'm not changing the plan.  If we run out of water or electricity, he's going to be in even worse  shape."

"You asked. I answered."

"And that's really it?"

"Yeah," Campbell lied. "Yeah, that's it."

Cassandra  didn't look convinced, but she let it drop. Thank fuck for that.  Campbell didn't know what he was supposed to do. Their fight must have  been part of the problem, considering Harry was avoiding him like the  plague, but Campbell had been as nice as possible about it. And what did  Harry expect, anyways? Right place, wrong time. It wasn't that Campbell  had magically moved on. There was still a familiar longing in the back  of his mind. At the end of the day, though, Campbell was going home to  Elle. He was cooking snacks for Elle, playing Scrabble with Elle,  practicing Spanish with her and listening to her sing in French while  they cleaned the house. She didn't know Campbell's deep, dark secret,  and she didn't ask; they just existed together, and damn it, Campbell  was happy.

Sometimes you had to give up on one love, to keep another. Even if it hurt like hell.

Whatever  heartache Campbell had left faded the night before prom. He folded the  dress he'd gotten Elle up and placed it in a box, presenting it to her  at dinner. "I hope it's okay," he said. "I kinda had to guess what you'd  like."

"What's in it?"

"Just a little something for prom."

Elle  perked up, pushing aside her dinner of lettuce and water to take the  box. She lifted the lid and pulled the top of the dress out, her eyes  going wide as she examined it. A light blush crossed her cheeks. "Oh!  Campbell, I don't know if I can accept this."

"Don't worry, I didn't steal it or anything like that. I got it for cleaning up downtown. You don't like it?"

"No, I... I love it. I do, thank you."

Campbell took her hand and brushed his thumb across her skin. The stammer in her voice didn't lie. "There's something wrong."

"I  really do like it. It's just..." Elle frowned. She squeezed his hand,  looking over to the pile of plain lettuce on her plate. "I've been  trying to lose some weight, and it shows a lot of skin. I don't know."

"There's nothing wrong with your body, Elle. You're gorgeous just the way you are."

"Say that to every major magazine."

"With  the models who are airbrushed to convince you that you need to buy all  sorts of expensive junk, and every other week there's some new bullshit  miracle diet?"

"Campbell, that's not--"

He shook his  head, cutting her off before she could defend those trashy rags. "Just  try it on. If you don't like it, we can raid someone's closet and find  something more conservative, but you deserve to feel as beautiful as I  think you are."

"Fine." Elle leaned in and gave Campbell a  chaste peck on his lips. Their first kiss. She smiled a little and  pulled away, before Campbell could kiss her back. "Thank you. I guess I  really would rather have a bagel with this."

"Then we shall go home and find you a bagel."

"And cream cheese?"

"Absolutely."

They  got up and were heading towards the door when they passed by Harry's  table. He was sitting with one of the majorly unpopular kids, whispering  something about offering up his expensive cars in exchange for...  something. Campbell paused. Trading workshifts? It was against the  rules. It'd be easy enough to just let Harry go ahead, get caught, and  get who knew what sort of punishment. But Campbell knew Harry wasn't  just being lazy. He was struggling. Getting punished for having a hard  time adjusting didn't seem right.

"Are you okay?" Elle asked.

"Yeah, I just need to talk to Harry. Can you go on ahead and I'll catch up to you?"

"Sure. I'll be outside."

The  first kid had turned Harry down, so he'd moved on to some poor ginger  who looked like he'd never had an ounce of fun in his life. "Move!"  Campbell barked at him. The kid picked up and scrambled away without a  single glance back. Harry glared at Campbell as he sat down, but  Campbell barely blinked. Harry could just be mad about it. "What are you  doing? Trying to get out of work is just going to make things worse for  you."

"This is fucking humiliating," Harry snapped. "The others  talk down to me like I'm a child, or haven't worked a day in my life.  Nineteen people moved into my house and no one even bothered to see if  they were people I'd get along with. They don't pick up after  themselves, they make messes everywhere--"

"Hey, hey. Breathe. Let me talk to Cassandra about it after prom. Everyone will be in a better mood then."

"I don't care. I'm done."

"What do you mean?"

Harry opened his mouth, then shut it again. "Nothing. I didn't mean anything. I'm just frustrated, okay?"

It  was a complete lie. Campbell knew exactly what Harry was talking about.  "Come spend a couple days at my house. We have room. There's some food  left, too. You can get some rest and I'll make us lunch. We can play  some video games or something."

"I can't."

"Harry, c'mon. Don't do this to yourself."

"That  house is all I have left of my family, Cam. Maybe you don't miss your  parents, but I miss my mom. I miss my sister. I miss my..." Harry's  voice cracked. He shook his head and curled in on himself. "I'll be  okay. Just give me some time. Please."

Campbell sat down next to  Harry. Harry sighed, but didn't move as Campbell leaned a little  closer. "I can give you time, but listen to me. Remember when we first  met as Cassandra's party?"

"Yeah, I do."

"You told me  that you'd decide for yourself what I was like. You didn't care what  anyone else said. Have I ever done you wrong, in all this time?"

"No. You haven't."

"Then  do what I'm telling you now. You think I like picking up trash?  Cleaning up after the fucks that were at your party, after they went all  apeshit on the town? No. But you need to play it smart until we get  back home. Understand?"

"Did Cassandra tell you to say that to me?"

"In  case you haven't noticed, Cassandra and I are related. We share the  common sense genes. I'd be telling you this either way."

Harry  gave a hollow chuckle. "We're not gonna get home, you know. Something's  wrong here. The committee of hers won't find anything. We fucked up,  somehow, and now we're trapped."

"Then the smartest thing you can do is smile, nod, and try to get along. I don't want you getting hurt."

"Yeah.  I get it. Must be the apocalypse, if you're getting all worried about  me." Harry looked to Campbell. He smiled, just for a split second,  before it faded again. "You better get going. I know Elle's waiting for  you."

Well, that was a dismissal. Campbell stood and left; Elle  was waiting for him under the trees, the fading summer light making  shadows from the leaves dance across her skin. He was lucky. Damn lucky. That's what he had to focus on. They went home and Elle tried on the dress, keeping the door locked so he couldn't peek; she came out in her  pajamas, with a bashful smile on her face.

"It fits," she said. "I'll wear it."

"Aw, I don't get to see?"

"You get to see tomorrow night."

Campbell  pouted, but laughed when Elle grabbed his hand and tugged him into his  room for a particularly ruthless game of Battleship. He lost twice, but  it was worth it. Elle had a cute little way she'd smile when she got a  hit, and she'd throw her fists up into the air when she won.

"I  guess you win the night," Campbell said as he plucked the little red and  white pegs from his board. "Unless you wanna make this next game winner  takes all?"

"What does the winner get?"

"Whatever they want."

Elle  tapped her index finger on her lips. "Hmm." Her eyes narrowed, and she  seemed to regard him with hint of suspicion, but then she shrugged and  picked up her board. "I'll take that bet."

Sucked for her,  because Campbell won the last round. Elle groaned and pretended to flip  her board, before flopping backwards onto the bed. Campbell smirked. "Do  you concede?"

"Never." Elle peered over at him. "What do you want for your prize, if I did?"

"Maybe you could stay with me tonight?"

"Just sleeping?"

"Just sleeping."

He  didn't want to be alone. Not after all the shit with Harry. Not that  he'd admit to it, because he was trying to ignore it and trying not to  look like a fool in front of Elle, but it struck a nerve he hadn't felt  take a hit in a long time. He hated having useless emotions. And in  situations like the one they were in, pining over your best friend when  you had someone who liked you already was about as useless an emotion as  you could get.

"Okay, but I get breakfast in bed tomorrow."

"Deal."

Campbell  waited until Elle bounced off to take a shower, and then texted Dillon.  He was a member of the committee, so Cassandra must have trusted him a  little, and he was one of the least offensive people who was living in  Harry's home. Hey, can you keep an eye on Harry? He's not talking to me and I need someone to call me if anything's wrong.

Sure I can do that, Dillon texted back.

Thanks. Drumming his fingers on the phone, Campbell opened his texts and scrolled down to Harry's messages. I was serious about everything I've said, okay? If you need me, call.  

There  was no reply. Campbell hadn't expected one, but he hoped it was because  Harry was pissed still and not because Harry had gone and done  something terrible. It was tempting to just go over there. He should  have, he knew he should have, but Elle was standing in the doorway of  his room in her cutest pajamas with a little smile on her face. It was  late, and Campbell didn't want to run out on Elle. If something was  wrong, Dillon would call.

Elle turned out the lights and curled  up with Campbell in bed. resting her head on his shoulder. He drifted  off first. The last thing he remembered was her kissing his temple, and  tugging the blankets up around him. When he woke up the next morning,  Elle was sleeping on his arm, and he couldn't feel his fingers. Campbell  managed to wiggle loose without waking her up. A quick glance at his  phone revealed no new messages, no calls. He sighed. Maybe no news was  good news after all.

Breakfast in bed was the last of the eggs,  done up as an omelette with cheese and the a scrap of ham that needed to  be eaten before it went bad. Campbell stared at the inside of the  fridge. Soon, they would have no choice but to just go to the cafeteria  for all their meals. All that would be left soon was the stuff in the  freezer or in tubs. Emergency provisions. If things went sideways and no  one managed to figure out food, he didn't trust most of the populace to  make sure he and Elle survived.

"Hey," Elle yawned as she came down the stairs. "That smells good."

Campbell closed the fridge and tried to look as cheerful as possible. "Morning. I thought you wanted breakfast in bed?"

"Kinda, but I wanted to come help more. Want me to make coffee?"

"Sure."

Watching  her pad around the kitchen and make coffee was a joy in and of itself.  She yawned again, rubbing her eyes and running a hand through her  tussled hair. Campbell grinned as she loaded up the coffee pot and zoned  out watching it. Precious. She was precious. There weren't many people  that he'd felt he would do anything to defend-- Sam, Cassandra, Harry--  but he knew right at that moment that whatever happened in the future,  he would do whatever it took to make sure she was okay.

She caught him staring. "What's wrong?"

Campbell  opened his mouth, words right on the tip of his tongue. You're  beautiful. You're important to me. I think I... But then his phone  buzzed in his pocket. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just glad we both like dark  roast."

"Drink of the gods."

He murmured an agreement as  he pulled out his phone and checked the messages. He paused, blinked. It  was from Sam. It was short and to the point, which was unlike Sam. Can I come over?  Campbell frowned. It wasn't that he didn't want to see Sam. He wanted  to. But what did Sam want? More of his things? Maybe he was worried  Campbell had gotten rid of stuff. Who knew what shit their parents had  convinced Sam that Campbell could, or would, capable of.

Campbell replied, curiosity getting the better of him. What time?

Now, came Sam's answer.

 Okay. See you soon.

"Who's that?" Elle wondered as Campbell tossed the phone onto the counter.

"Sam. He's coming over in a few minutes."

"Oh? Is everything okay?"

Campbell  shrugged, stroking Elle's shoulder as he walked towards the front door.  "He probably just forgot something he needed or has something from  Cassandra. I'm sure everything's fine."

Either way, he was about to find out.

[old-souldier]

#16: Bond

S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse A persona che mai tornasse al mondo, Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse. Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero, Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.

She was overdue.

Really, she wanted to be here in the spring on the anniversary. The sudden mobilization and campaign across Gyr Abania had made this trip impossible and it was now late Autumn when Jordan ventured out into the Twelveswood. At the very least she thought  I don't 'ave ta worry 'bout my swivin' 'ay fever this time a year.

Carefully she plodded along, mounted on her steed and Sister-in-Arms, Pipa. Behind them, following at his own pace, was a large brown bear. Jordan would at times look back and whistle to get his attention and know when to catch up, but otherwise, she let him to his own devices. These woods were his home, after all. She hoped he enjoyed the visit.

As for Jordan, her goal was a bit more elusive. It was the day before Sami's 21st birthday. Twenty-one, already married for a year and a half and, by Jordan's reckoning, doing a damn sight better than she did at her age. Jordan chuckled for a bit May'aps I should get 'er goat a bit askin' 'bout grand kids. Don't think either of 'em are ready, but would be nice ta 'ave little ones ta spoil. Though with that spindly noodle fer a father, they won't be little fer long.

Jordan distracted herself for a few hours like this as she slowly traveled through the Shroud, moving from the larger, established roads into nestled back roads and trails, then further into proper forest and back country. Jordan was no forester, who could eyes the constellations, spot The Balance or The Arrow and know where they are in the thick of the canopy. But Jordan could handle the terrain well enough. She had learned, a long time ago  in another life, that the people of the woods used the forest and managed it in their own ways, even if the Gridanians didn't approve. Jordan gave a bitter laugh and thought, One thing nice that came out of that 'orror in Carteneau, made the bleedin' Elementals sod off ta the Seven 'ells. Sooner see the whole of this burn than ever hear them bastard breath a word 'bout 'Greenwrath' anew.

Once the forest was too slow going on chocobo, Jordan dismounted. She fed Pipa some fresh greens and let her rest. Ol' girl's gettin on in years. She looked up and saw a bit of motion. Jordan knelt down and found a rotted log to hide behind. After a moment, she realized it was a bear with a red ribbon on his neck,

"Oi, Cuddles!" Jordan said followed by a whisper. "Stop scroungin' about. No salmon 'ere in the woods."

Cuddles looked up, gave a plaintive growl, the continued sniffing around. Jordan ignored her ursine charge and slowly plodded forward, watching for slick moss and sharp rocks.

'Tis a futile exercise, this. Every time I try ta find the spot where we were n' every time I 'ave ta guess. Twenty years on now from back 'en. They're all gone, too, save Sami. Yer a bloody fool.

Jordan sighed. Softly she whispered. "Aye... What good's a Sea Rat in a land locked piece a piss such as the Black Shroud?"

Jordan walked a bit longer, pulling Pipa along slowly behind her and whistling a bit to remind Cuddles where she was. She found a bit of clearing and, with her supplies, made a shelter and a fire. Once the sky was dark and the waxing half-moon was high in the night sky, Jordan sat down near the fire and closed her eyes.

"Amh, love... I wish ye could see yer baby now. I told ye 'bout the weddin last time, but she really came inta 'er own. There were them years I 'eard neither lide nor tail 'bout where she was. She left me 'ouse, her 'ome and just set off. Damn foolish thing, but... I wasn't the best mum. Maybe ye'd've understood better. Maybe it's just a Keeper thing ta want ta be free er maybe kids just always disobey their parents when they get that age."

Jordan chuckled, "Wand'rer, 'elp me, I must 'ave put me mum in an early grave that way I was..."

Jordan nestled a small quarter log into her fire, making sure it stayed contained. She warmed her hands a bit and breathed in the warming smoke.

"But now, Sami is so well and just... I wish ye could see 'er, Amh. I wish ye were here. I think 'bout that day all the time. The moment when maybe, just maybe things could've worked. Maybe I would traded in me sea legs for a landlubber's pair, er if that shrew 'ad cast ye out, we could've lived in a bungalow, facin' the big, blue, Rhotano. I think about yer blue eyes n' that fang a yours that stuck out just a bit more 'n the other one, n' the turquoise n' silver earrings ye 'ad that were from yer own mum afore she passed."

Jordan leaned back on the large rock she had moved to rest against. "I would've liked ta grow old with ya, Amh. 't seems I grow old n' all I can do is grow old alone. May'aps, if Wand'rer sees fit ta let me see his 'eaven, may'aps I will see ye once more."

Jordan coaxed the fire a bit longer, until she grew sleepy. As her eyes grew heavy, she felt herself nestled by a smallish chocobo and a significantly larger bear.

The next day, at just before daybreak, Jordan wandered out of the Twelveswood and rode quickly south and, after finding stabling Pipa and her ursine charge, swallowed her pride and let herself travel aetherially to Ul'dah. After paying the fee and using a nearby trashcan to throw up stomach bile, she made her way to the markets. She was near ready to give up when, in a jewelry stall that seemed to promote the gaudy, gold works of the Ul'dahn Goldsmiths, her eye spotted something else: a pair of silver drop earrings that, as part of their look, sported streaked stones of turquoise. Asking for their price, the stall owner said.

"Those? I'll give you a good deal. Not much call for that kind of look right now, but I see you have an eye for the classics." Jordan rolled her eyes at the transparent praise, but took them anyway.

After a quick bit of time washing the smell of smoke and patches of moss, chocobo dander, and bear fur in the public baths, Jordan made it to Sami and Larson's apartment.

Sami seemed glad to see her mother. She was a bit annoyed when asked about grandchildren, but then Jordan gave her the earrings.

"'ere, dearie. I saw 'em by the shops today and thought they'd look good. They're turquoise, but got just enough green ta go well with her eyes n' hair color."

Sami blinked in surprise at her mother, but took the earrings and put them on. She walked to a wall mirror by the door and looked them over.

"Wow, they're, like, not too big, either." She quickly moved her head around. "I can fight with 'em, if I have to or some junk!" She turned around and walked towards her husband.

"Sweetie, what do you think." Larson was reduced to a bit of a stammering mess until he simply gave his wife a thumbs up and a flushed cheeks.

Sami walked back to her mother and knelt down, giving Jordan a hug.

"Thanks mom. This was, like, a real nice present and junk."

"Better ‘an that stuffed aldgoat I made ye when ye turned six?"

Sami laughed, "I mean, I hope the turquoise don't, like, fall out like Bobo's eyes did or something."

Jordan nodded and said softly as she hugged Sami again, "I love you, dearie. We all do."

[ascreamingstrawberry]

Strip Me of My Walls Please.

Previous : Part 15, Present : Part 16,  Next : Part 17

Summary: Logan hires a prostitute to pretend to be his boyfriend. Patton is a prostitute just trying to support his son when he falls with a very rich man needing him to pretend to be his boyfriend.

Chapter Summary : Logan spends more time with Jon + Thomas, and then they visit Roman at the hospital. 

Pairings: romantic Logicality, future romantic Prinxiety, Elle x Damien (my original characters)

Word Count: 1,804

Warnings : mentions of bruises? mentions of abuse?  mentions of prostitution? children getting mad like hella mad? logan’s mother is in his head?

Notes : Leave a like, a reblog, message, and reply! I love hearing your comments.

“When does Roman get released?” Thomas asked.

“When can we go home?” Jon said over Thomas asking his question again.

“When does my Adderall kick in?” Logan sarcastically mumbled to himself under his breath. He cared deeply for Thomas, and he loved Jon, but if these children asked him one more question his brain was incredibly likely to explode.

He had mistakenly decided to take the children out to breakfast this morning while Patton and Virgil remained at the hospital with Roman. He had heard Jon’s comments about Virgil being the better babysitter, and the longer that he sit with these two, he was beginning to believe it. They’re just children Logan, his mother’s voice chided him inside his head, they don’t know what’s going on.

I don’t even know what’s going on! Logan’s internal voice argued with his mother’s voice in his head, and that’s when he shook his head violently. He was going insane. He was a teacher for god’s sake, granted he taught upper levels of math and science at an advanced arts school, but he dealt with kids every day.

You’re stressed, Logan, you get irritated more easily, you know, that. Logan took a deep breath again, might as well implore her assistance if I’m going to talk to her voice in my head. He pulled his phone out at the moment that Jon and Thomas had distracted themselves with another argument over the best Disney movie, and sent a text to his mother.

loganfoley : how does one entertain two obnoxiously curious children

karenfoley : answer their questions?

karen foley : is everything okay?

loganfoley : i am never having children.

karenfoley : you’ve wanted children, since as long as i can remember.

loganfoley : why won’t you let me be dramatic?

karenfoley : you hate being dramatic.

loganfoley : thanks mom.

karenfoley : call me sometime soon, okay?

loganfoley : bye mom.

karenfoley : LOGAN FOLEY CALL YOUR MOTHER.

Luckily for him, the questions started again rather quickly, as their plates arrived.

“When are we going home?” Jon asked, his mouth stuffed with food. Logan watches Thomas reach over with his napkin and brush away the pieces of omelette that got stuck just underneath his bottom lip, and Jon thanked him. Kids were weird.

“When Roman gets out of the hospital probably. That way Thomas can go back with his Dad.” Logan said, stabbing his eggs a little harder than he intended. He took a breath, Thomas’s dad, this was for Patton. And for Virgil, and for Roman. Surprisingly, those reminders helped him calm down.

“When is Roman getting out of the hospital?” Thomas asked, after folding his napkin with Jon’s mess on it, he had begun a stare down with his breakfast. For what, Logan wasn’t sure, but the growling of Thomas’s stomach seemed to win as he finally begun picking at his food.

“When he gets better, maybe a couple days. He was very injured.” Logan replied, hoping that was the end of their questions.

“Why is Roman injured?” Jon asked. It wasn’t.

But Logan didn’t even have time to answer, because Thomas took it for him. “Ro’s boyfriend beats him up.”

“Thomas!” Logan chastised, he wasn’t sure why. His brain took time to catch up with the conversation just long enough for him to realize he sounded a lot like his mother just then. Oh god.

“Logan!” Thomas replied, shaking his head with attitude. With attitude? Oh god, I really am my mother. Logan took another deep breath, even closed his eyes too, and when he opened them he was able to see Thomas was in fact, angry at something. His eyebrows were being pushed closer together, his mouth in a scowl. “Thomas, are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Thomas stabbed his fork into his pancake in a similar way that Logan had earlier, but it never actually reached his mouth, he simply set it back down.

“Your father would want you to eat your breakfast, Thomas.” Logan said, even he could hear the sound of Thomas’s stomach. Patton would be very mad at him if Thomas didn’t eat.

“Well my dad’s not here right now, Logan.” Thomas bit back, sitting back in his chair, completely away from the plate now. Patton would be very mad at him anyway, Thomas was not happy. Thomas stood up, and started walking towards the back of the small diner they were at. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

“You should be accompanied-” Logan started.

“And I should care, but I don’t.” Thomas slammed the door to the bathroom loudly, but Logan got up to follow him anyways. Jon followed. Thank god.

“Thomas?” Jon called, and the aggravated hum that came from the other side of the door told them that Thomas hadn’t even moved from the door. “Thomas, don’t be mad at Logan.”

Thomas opened the door, thankfully for 10 am on a Sunday, there weren’t many people in the diner. It most likely was because the church across the street that Logan’s family sometimes went to, had it’s services at this time. Still, Thomas looked pretty angry, for a seven year old.

“I’m not mad at Logan.” Thomas said, sounding very mad at Logan. But then he took a deep breath, like Dad taught you Thomas, and he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry that I was rude, but I’m upset.”

“What are you upset about?” Logan asked. Feelings, he thought to himself, the bane of my existence.

“I miss my Dad.” Thomas walked back to where they had been sat, Jon and Logan following him as he plopped down in his chair. “And Roman.”

“Well that is a solvable issue. Why don’t, after breakfast, we go see Patton and Roman in the hospital?” Logan offered, and both children, surprisingly, got excited.

Soon enough, a little over an hour later, Thomas was running into the hospital room where Logan could see Virgil playing cards with someone, Patton at the chair near the bed, and-“Roman!”

“Prince Thomas!” Roman replied, letting the boy climb up onto the hospital bed to give him a big ole hug. The red paper crown wobbled on Thomas’s head, he and Jon had both gotten them on the way out of the diner from a smiling waitress, and Roman turned towards Jon who was now holding Logan’s hand just a little tighter. “Ah! Another prince, your majesty, I’d bow but I seem unable to use my legs.”

“Uh-I’m not a prince.” Jon said, reaching up to take the crown off his head.

“Sure you are.” Thomas smiled as he curled underneath Roman’s arm, despite the wince. “At least to me.”

“Okay.” Jon smiled, letting go of Logan’s hand to run to the end of Roman’s hospital bed. However upon reaching it, he stopped, and carefully climb as to not hurt Roman. Thomas didn’t seem to be scared of the bruises or the cuts, so neither should Jon, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be careful not to hurt Thomas’s friend.

“Roman, can you tell Jon one of your Prince stories?” Thomas asked.

“Do you want an old one or a new one that you haven’t heard?” Roman reached his unoccupied hand down to run it through Thomas’s hair.

“An old one. That way, I can just cuddle you now that you’re okay.” Thomas turned so his cheek now rested against Roman’s chest, his eyes closing as he squeezed the hand that Roman had around him. Roman wanted to coo but settled for beginning into one of his regal tales.

Logan noticed Patton, looked, content  His arm was resting on the nightstand next to the bed, the railing on his side that would’ve stopped Jon or Thomas climbing up, was completely down. Patton’s head was resting on his arm, and he was watching Thomas and Roman with a very sleepy, very soft expression. Logan couldn’t help a smile, and he leaned over, and pressed a kiss to his head. Patton’s eyes widened for a minute, and he looked up. When he realized it was just Logan though, he set his head back down on his arm now with his eyes closed and a blush on his cheeks.

“You seem very awake, Patton. Get much sleep?” Logan asked, fighting an urge to hug Patton, to pull him up into his arms. He shouldn’t have such an incessant want to touch the other man in some comforting way. Overall he’d say he won that war, but the fact that his fingers quickly found their way into Patton’s hair, meant he’d at least lost a battle.

“A little.” Patton hummed, his tongue stopping at the end of statement to rest between his lips.

“You’re so cute I could kiss you.” It took about two seconds for Logan to realize he hadn’t thought that, but said it. Now he was the one to blush, but Patton was looking up at him with a smirk.

“Then do it.” So Logan did. He leaned down, pressed his lips softly, softer than he’s probably ever kissed him. It was but Patton pushed against him. Patton leaned forward, daring him, and Logan pushed back. He vaguely registers the sound of a hard smack against someone’s shoulder behind him.

“Ow.” That’s his brother’s voice, but then Patto’s tongue is tracing the middle of his lips, and Logan suddenly doesn’t give a shit. “Ew, get a room!”

Patton pulls away all too quickly, smiling now, but more importantly with a look in his eyes that was all smug, and it made Logan’s knees weak. Another voice behind him, one that he didn’t recognize, cat called. “Way to go, Pat!”

“Who-” Logan’s voice was on the brink of moaning, he knew that, but he cleared his voice. There are kids here, his mother’s voice was in his head again, why was she still in there? “Who are you?”

The girl stared him down, so Logan attempted to do the same. He couldn’t quite copy the certain uncomfortable amount of discontent she seemed to hold in the way her knee bent on top of the arm of the hospital chair, but even as she curved the right side of her bottom lip upward, she didn’t come off as cold. In fact, as she spoke, there was a hint of amusement in her voice. “I was right, you are dorky.”

“Excuse-” Logan didn’t get a chance to defend himself. He didn’t get a chance to bite back at this short haired menace, because Patton was grabbing his hand. His fingers were tracing along the knuckles of his hand, and he got distracted.

Distracted enough to jump at the sound of someone knocking on the door. Everyone in the room stood, Logan held his arms out in front of him, successfully blocking Patton, Roman, and the two kids on the bed. The stranger spoke. “Well, well, well if it isn’t Roman Sanders.” 

taglist : @jesjessode @queerly-anxious @bubblycricket @monikastec @definenormalifyoucan @sandersmarvel @sonhadoraativa @strongnonetheless @im-patton @iridescentroyalty​ @romanthroughthestars 

[hrhduchessoflancaster]

Chapter Seventy-Six: Old Sarum

Disclaimer: see Prologue ____________________________________

Boxing Day, in general, was the last day the entire Mountbatten-Windsor family spent together. The men and a few of the women left early in the morning for the shoot & hunt, while the remaining women and children stayed behind, having a late breakfast. As Elle watched Charlotte, George and Mia play, she smiled, feeling her own child kick her.

“ You know, soon enough my niece or nephew will be doing exactly the same thing.”, said Kate to her, as they sat side by side in the sofa.

“ I still can’t believe you and Harry will have a baby so soon…”, said Kate chuckling. Elle smiled and nodded her head.

“ I know… it’s so surreal sometimes.”, she replied the older woman. “ But knowing Harry, you’d have guessed that he’d want children quite soon after we got married. And I had no objections…”, continued Elle.

As the the afternoon approached, and the pheasant hunt on the grounds of the estate - in which the Duke of Edinburgh took charge - was over, they had a hearty lunch, full of different types of game, including one of her favourites, game pie.

When lunch ended, around two in the afternoon, the majority of them prepared to leave; William, Catherine and the children would be going to Bucklebury, to Kate’s parents home, while the Tindalls would be traveling to Australia.

As for Harry and Elle, their journey to Salisbury was highly expected. Her parents and brother all having spent Christmas at Woondenford Castle, were eager to see her and her husband for the New Year’s celebrations. And of course, the soon to be, new addition to the family. All packed, they said their goodbyes to the family and boarded the train to Wiltshire. Elle couldn’t help but grin as they approached the familiar sight of Salisbury Cathedral, which could be seen from afar.

“ Excited, aren’t we?”, said Harry smirking. Elle’s smiled grew and she nodded her head.

“ I haven’t been back to Woodenford since before our wedding. It’s been months!”, said Elle.

“ Oh poor Lionheart must be missing me just as much as I miss him…”, she wondered, sadly.

“ I’m sure someone rode him for you… they wouldn’t let him stuck on his stall during all that time.”, replied Harry.

“ I know… I’m just annoyed I can’t ride him…”, mumbled Elle, sighing. Harry nodded his head, understandably and pulled her closer to him.

“ Don’t worry. You’ll be able to be back on a saddle soon enough. Meanwhile, there are other things you can ride. One that is in front of you, I might add.”, he said, whispering the last sentence on her ear. Shaking her head, she slapped his arm.

“ Behave, Major.”, she said giggling while Harry smiled.

************

Her parents were overjoyed to see her and Harry. With tight hugs and warm smiles they led the couple inside the stony castle. The familiar smells and sounds rushed into her, overwhelming her senses. Sighing, she dashed to the Great Hall, where she was happy to see the tall Christmas tree still standing in all of its glory.

Harry, who she left behind with their luggage, soon catch up to her and smiled as he watched his wife bewitched by the lit Christmas tree.

“ You can be such a child, you know…”, joked Harry. Elle didn’t even bother to look at him. Her sole focus was the ornament in front of her.

“ You know how much I love the holidays…”, she commented, going around the tree. “ I hope our child share that with me…”

“ I’m sure Nugget will think of it as magical as you do.”, replied Harry, coming beside her, his arms around her waist. Smiling softly, Elle leaned into him and sighed contently.

“ I know I’ve said this hundreds of times, but I can’t wait to meet our baby. I’ve started imagining what he or she will be like, how will our personalities mold into its life… Will Nugget be more like you or more like me? Or maybe he or she will be completely different from everything we’ve imagined. I can already picture our first Christmas together with Nugget. And I can’t wait for it to happen…”, said Elle.

************

During the days they spent at the castle, the couple joined the McClaire’s in every activity: from helping decorating the main hall to hunting and charades after dinner. But it was on the third day, on New Year’s Eve that they had a serious job to do: visit the Duke and Duchess of Wiltshire Foundation’s hq for the end of year soup kitchen and bazaar.

Every year, her parents foundation organised on both Christmas and New Year’s a soup kitchen as a form of celebration and also as a way to help and care for the ones who had barely nothing or simply the one who had no family to spend the holidays with.

And so, Elle and Harry were recruited to help prepared then serve the soup, hot drinks, water and a cozy blanket to all of those who showed up at the HQ. They were more than happy to do so. When the people started to enter, most recognised Elle and were somewhat comfortable with her but most of them were shocked in seeing Harry.

Unfortunately, word got out and the media was alerted, resulting in a number of pictures circulating on social media. Luckily, Ingrid and Alfred were there and helped contain the crowd. But in the end, they laughed and enjoyed their time, talking to whomever came up to them.

“ This reminds me a lot of when my mum began taking Will and I to a few shelter homes in London. It’s the same atmosphere.”, said Harry and Elle smiled, nodding her head.

“ It is, right? Do you still visit them?”, she asked him.

“ Not as much as I used to. I wish I could, now that you’ve mentioned it.”, said Harry.

“ Well, in that case, let’s talk to Ronald and see when we can. I want to come along.”, said Elle.

“ Darling, are you sure it’s wise? Our agendas are packed for the start of the year and you’ll be on your final trimester. You should be resting.”, said Harry, slightly worried.

“ I know that… but I’ll be fine.”, said Elle. “ I’m determined to keep on working until the last month of my pregnancy. Even further if I can.”

“ No one will think less of you if you stop working to take care of you and the baby. You know that, right?”, said Harry, running his hands on her arms.

“ I do. But I want to. I want to do all that I can. And if Georgiana says I’m fit enough to do it, I will, Harry. I’m not sick or an invalid.”, she replied.

“ Yes… I’m well aware of the superwoman I married.”, said Harry smiling. “ But you can’t deny a husband’s concern for his wife an unborn child, can you?”

“ No… I suppose I can’t…”, Elle replied smiling. Leaning in closer to him, she gently placed her lips on his, a sweet kiss, laced with love and care.

************

After they returned from the HQ, they prepared themselves for the cocktail party in the main hall. It would start much later in the night and go into the early hours of the new year. Among the guests, a few family members like Mary’s and Valerie’s parents, though Elle wasn’t sure if she’d be seeing either of them. Probably not.

Dress in a red med sleeved, knee high dress, her hair up in a ponytail, Elle smiled admiring herself on the mirror in her room. Her stomach was round now and looked so beautiful the dress’ deep burgundy, Christmassy colour. Caressing her belly, she smiled as she felt the baby kick.

“ Not much longer now, my little Nugget.”, she said.

“ Talking to your bump again sis? People will think you’re crazy.”, said Ed opening the door of the bedroom, unceremoniously.

“ Edward Thomas! You could have given me a heart attack!”, said Elle angrier and her brother just brushed it off, taking a sit on her bed.

“ And just so you know, yes I was talking to my child again. And it’s perfectly normal. Even encouraged.”, replied Elle, irritated. Ed laughed as he watched her.

“ I was messing with you, little sister. Of course it’s perfectly normal. I would talk non-stop if I were in your place. By the way, how is my niece?”, he said.

“ What makes you think it’s a girl?”, she asked him, raising one eyebrow.

“ I just have a feeling.”, said Ed blinking at her.

“ Well… Nugget is doing great. He or she just has a nag for kicking me…”, she replied giggling.

“ That must be painful.. ouch…”, said Ed making a face.

“ But worth it… as mother will tell you.”, Elle told her brother smiling.

“ Anyway, what are you doing here? Is there something you need?”, Elle asked him as she put on her earrings. She decided on wearing the ones Harry had gotten her for Christmas.

“ Oh yeah… mum is calling you. She’s in the library. She told me to tell you to come as soon as you were able.”, said Ed.

“ Alright. Tell her I’ll be down in a few.”, replied Elle.

“ Do I look like the Royal Mail?”, retorted Ed. “ She’ll wait. I still have to get changed.”, he continued and left the room, after kissing her temple. Elle shook her head and smiled. What are we going to do with you, Edward?, she thought.

When she finished her makeup, Elle made her away down the stairs, noticing how there were already a few people there, mingling and sipping on their drinks. She briefly greeted them and quickly dashed to the library. She found her mother seating on one of the sofas, a book in her hand.

“ Mother?”, Elle said, announcing her presence.

“ Elle darling. Thank you for coming.”, Victoria said. “ Come. Take a seat by me.”. Elle walked over to her mother and sat beside her on the fluffy sofa.

“ My darling I asked you here because I wanted to give you this.”, said Victoria, handing Elle the book she was holding.

“ This is in between a diary and a scrapbook of the women in our family. In there, you’ll find thoughts, stories and tips of their lives as mothers.”, said Victoria and Elle’s eyes widened.

“ How long have you had this?”, she asked her mother.

“ Since your brother was born. You see, it’s handed down from mother to daughter when her first child is born. It started with your great grandmother and now I’m continuing the legacy and passing it on to you. The binding was changed several times and pages were added with the years but it remains, in its essence, the same book. I hope this helps and inspires you, my darling.”, said Victoria, teary-eyed.

Elle looked from the leather-bound book in her hands to her mother. Feeling a surge of emotion hit her like a ton of bricks, Elle put the book aside and in one quick motion, hugged her mother tightly, as much as her belly allowed.

“ This is so incredible, mum. Thank you for trusting me with it. I treasure it forever.”, she said.

************

The cocktail party was an incredible success. Harry had been introduced by Elle to a number of family friends and colleagues from her parents, all of whom were delighted to meet and talk to him. Many of them, shared the same ideals and interests he had and were eager not only to listen to what he had to say on the subject but were more than happy to help and invest in some of his ventures, namely the Invictus Games, whose second edition would soon be announced.

As midnight approached, the couple joined the other guests in the garden for the countdown and fireworks display.

“ Do you remember the first time we came here after we we’ve seen each other again?”, asked Harry.

“ How can I not? You crushed my gala and we came here after we had danced together. I was so nervous for having you here.”, said Elle.

“ Really? I was petrified of your reaction when I decided to come to the gala.”, he said and she chuckled.

“ I wanted to kiss you so bad that day. You looked so beautiful and all the feelings I would have for you were beginning to surface.”, said Harry, making Elle smile.

“ I have to confess that I wanted to stay in your arms for a longer time than I had that evening. I too, was starting to feel something for you. I didn’t know yet that it was but it scared me.”, said Elle.

“ I think it’s safe to say we both were scared that night.”, said Harry and the couple chuckled.

“ But look how far we’ve come from that night, hun?”, said Elle, one hand resting on her growing stomach. “ We fell in love, we got engaged, married and now we starting a family. Of course we knew this marriage would happen, but who would have thought we’d get so lucky?”, she continued.

“ We are indeed the lucky ones, my love.”, said Harry, leaning closer to her just as the countdown was coming to and end. Their kiss was slow, loving, caring. They held each other tightly, their bodies’ warmth engulfing one another.

“ Happy New Year, my love.”, said Elle as they pulled away, noses still touching.

“ Happy New Year, my love, my wife, mother of my child.”, said Harry smiling.

************

Two-thousand and seventeen began with a kick. Quite literally for Elle. As she entered her 26th week of pregnancy, she was beginning to feel the true weight of her body. Her movements were slower, her lower back was a little stiff and she felt she got progressively more tired as the day came to and end. Georgiana had advised her about the change in her centre of gravity as well as the strain in her muscles and joints due to the new weight she’d be carrying.

Harry, ever the attentive husband, was promptly ready to give her back rubs, foot massages and draw warm, soothing baths for her. As they prepared for Nugget’s arrival, the couple tried to enjoy their last moments alone. As soon as they’d returned from Wiltshire, they had resumed their date night, which was a great idea to begin with and now proved to be an even better one, as they had found a comfortable routine around it.

Following epiphany, Elle got in touch with the midwife who taught Kate the hypnobirth technique, Helen. She was, indeed, as her sister-in-law had told her, a very sweet woman. Well, at least on the phone. They had scheduled a meeting at Kensington Palace later that week so they could start on the basis of hypnobirth and all she would need for the delivery.

“ Are you sure you want to do this?”, asked Harry.

“ I am. I’ve done a little research and it seems as good as any birthing exercise or technique. And, from that Kate has told me, it helped her feel more relaxed and at one with her body when she delivered both George and Charlotte. I’ve heard great things about it.”, said Elle and Harry nodded his head.

“ Well, if you are sure love, then all I can do is support you. And that you have. Always.”, said Harry, kissing her temple, making Elle smiled at the gesture.

“ I’ll be entering my third trimester in two weeks, so I think it’s a good time to start preparing. And, Helen said to me that hypnobirth also helps prepare the mind for the pain and the stress that comes with labour. Trust me, I have full confidence this will work. It’ll be a mind over matter kind of thing.”, said Elle.

On the following week, Helen, a middle-aged, brown skinned and white haired woman came to apartment 1.

“ Nice to finally meet you, Your Royal Highness.”, said Helen to Elle.

“ The pleasure is mine. Kate has spoken highly of you.”, Elle said to the woman.

“ Well I thank her. I’ve worked with the Duchess of Cambridge in her last two pregnancies and I’m honoured now to be working with yours.”, said Helen. Harry, then stepped forward to greeted the woman with a handshake.

“ It’s very nice meeting you Helen. My wife and I are thrilled and excited about that you have to teach us.”, he said, receiving a smile from the older woman.

“ As I said, it’s an honour. So, shall we start?”, said Helen and the trio took their seats on the sofa.

“ Well, I want to know a little more about you and the pregnancy before we start with hypnobirth. So, I gather this is your first pregnancy?”, she asked them.

“ Well, actually, this is my second. Our second.”, said Elle and Helen was very polite to hide her surprise.

“ I had a pregnancy scare before our wedding but, obviously, the baby didn’t come to term.”, said Elle, while Harry hand’s were holding hers tightly.

“ I see. I’m so sorry for your loss, But I have to ask, I take that you had a miscarriage?”, asked Helen.

“ Yes. It was spontaneous. I had just found out I was pregnant.”, said Elle.

“ Alright. And after that, did you have any kind of  hormonal trouble or sexual?”, she asked,

“ No. I had a treatment after the miscarriage to eliminate every possibility of further problems and since I got pregnant again I’ve had close and constant check-ups with my OB/GYN.”, said Elle and Helen nodded, taking a few notes.

“ Then everything is as it should be.”, said Helen smiling.  “ Since you’ve had no trouble conceiving again, I believe your miscarriage was due to either stress or hormonal imbalance. It can happen and it’s not uncommon. But all is well now and we’ll deliver this baby to full-term, perfectly healthy.”,she continued, making the couple smile.

“ Well let me explain to you how hypnobirthing work. We’ll meet weekly for pre-natal classes on how to react and that to expect before, during  and after birth, for both the mother and the father to be. Along with it, you’ll have a 16-hour program that you can listen to, telling you about the step by step of hypnobirthing, relaxation exercises, which we’ll practice, and a number of techniques that will ensure a stress-free, pain relief and natural birth.”, said Helen.

“ This seems heavenly.”, said Elle “ When can we begin?”, she said and both her husband and midwife chuckled.

“ Right away if you want to.”, replied Helen.

************

In the coming weeks, Elle and Harry had began to fully understand the nature and preparation for a birth due to Helen’s help and guidance. Hypnobirthing was proving to be more relaxing then Elle had first thought it to be and she felt a true improvement in her daily life because of the exercises and meditation she’d been practicing daily.

Once she reached her 28th week of pregnancy and finally entered her third and last trimestre, she began to think about the final details for the baby’s birth and the events she’d attend leading to April, when she’d take her leave from all of her public engagements. In the middle of the week she and Harry would have a joint engagement for the Henry van Straubenzee Memorial Fund. They’d attend a benefit in to raise funds for a new project in Uganda.

But before they could attend it, Elle had an appointment with Georgiana. Since she was beginning the last months of her pregnancy, she’d have a more thorough examination and weekly visits to the clinic.

“ So, how are you feeling? Any changes you want to tell me?”, asked Georgiana as Elle and Harry stepped into her office.

“ I’m just feeling more tired. But I know it’s normal.”, said Elle and the doctor nodded her head.

“ It is. Most women feel a little bloated as well. All normal reactions and consequences to the pregnancy.”, said Georgiana.

“ And how are the pre-natal classes going?”, she asked them.

“ Pretty well.”, replied Harry. “ Elle has started hypnobirthing exercises and I’m doing a few as well to help her relax and meditate.”, he continued.

“ Oh that’s good! It’s a quite popular technique nowadays and it’s very interesting to say the least. I think if you believe it, you can do it. And in the end, it’s a matter of mind over body.”, said Georgiana.

“ That’s exactly what’ve told Harry. I’m feeling calmer and more prepared for the birth since I started the exercises. Helen, my birthing coach and midwife is helping us. And it’s been illuminating.”, said Elle.

“ That’s good to hear, Elle. Well, keep doing whatever makes you feel good.”, said Georgiana smiling.

“ Now, let’s have a look at your vitals and this little one?”, she said and Elle popped into the bed for her check-up. She felt Georgiana hooking her to a few machines to take her blood pressure, temperature and blood-sugar, as well as her heartbeat.

“ Everything seems in order with you. Your blood pressure is a little low, but it’s well within the margins. I’m going to collect a little flask of blood to send to the lab to see if everything is normal, ok?”, said the doctor and Elle nodded in response. Then, she lied back into the bed and pulled her blouse up so that Georgiana could make an ultrasound.

“ Let’s see this little royal, now, shall we?”, she said, putting the cold gel in Elle’s belly. Soon enough, the machine began making weird sounds, which were the baby’s heart and both soon-to-be parents watched in wonder as their child appeared on the small screen.

“ Baby’s heartbeat is strong. We can see its hands and feet all completely formed. The baby is about the size of a large aubergine and weighs about 1 kilogram, which is 2 pounds. Everything seems perfectly alright with both mum and baby.”, said Georgiana. The couple smiled to each other as Elle was cleaned and was able to sit up on the bed.

“ At this stage, the baby will gain weight much quicker and will soon start turning in your womb to prepare for the birth. You’ll most likely feel more movement in your belly and I’m sorry to say, an incessant unrest in your legs. It’s common and part of the process , so don’t be alarmed.”, said Georgiana.

“ I’ll have your lab results tomorrow so I’ll just call you and tell you then. There’s no need for you to come in here. But other than waiting for the labs, all is well. I’ll see you next week, okay? And don’t forget to drink plenty of water and eat vegetables and red meat for the iron you need.”, advises Georgiana.

“ Thank you Georgiana.”, said Elle, hugging the woman. “ Until next week.”

************

Two days later, Harry and Elle, both dressed in elegant black-tie coded clothes, attended the fundraising gala for the Henry van Straubenzee Memorial Fund. Harry, as one of the patrons, would be giving a small speech on the work the foundation did in Uganda as well as talk about his own experience with both the charity and his own work in Africa, through Sentebale.

“ Are you sure you’re feeling alright to attend the gala? I know how during the night your body hits almost exhaustion levels.”, asked Harry, concerned.

“ I am. And I’ll be alright. So long as I remain seated during most of it, I’ll be golden.”, replied Elle. They were in the car with Ingrid and Leo, on their way to the National Gallery in London, where the fundraiser would take place.

As the got closer to the sumptuous building in Trafalgar Square, the royal couple noticed the amount of photographers and the red carpet that been lined up at the entrance of the building.

“ This looks almost like the Oscars. I feel like a superstar.”, joked Elle, making the people in the car laugh. “ If you don’t mind me saying, ma’am, you and your husband are as good as superstars in this country. Abroad as well.”, said Ingrid.

“ True…”, agreed Harry. “ The paparazzi certainly treat us like so.”, he continued in a more serious tone. Elle sighed and held onto his hand, caressing his wedding band on it.

“ We’ll be alright, darling. You’ll see.”, she said, reassuring him. Harry nodded his head and smiled at her, just as their car stopped at the base of the stairs leading to the National Gallery. The sounds of flashes and their blinding lights paved the way for Harry and Elle, who were holding hands as they greeted the two members of the fund’s board of directors.

“ A pleasure to welcome you both, Your Royal Highnesses.”, said one man, shaking Harry’s then Elle’s hands.

“ It’s our pleasure to be here.”, replied Elle, with a courteous smile. They were guided by the man and woman to the main area of the building and were soon bombarded by friends and acquaintances alike. Many, who had yet to congratulate them officially on the imminent birth of their first child.

Overall, the night run out without a hit. The couple mingled among the guests, Harry’s speech was filled with laughter and also meaning, specially when he pointed out the number of lives they’d be helping by funding the organisation. Elle was very proud and turned on by his passion and dedication to his causes.

At the end of the night, when they returned to Kensington Palace, Harry and Elle welcomed the new year as a couple, thoroughly enjoying themselves: as companions, as lovers, as soulmates. Tangled in the bedsheets, in each others arms, they calmly slept, as they waited the new challenges life would bring them in the weeks to come.

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Option C- When in Doubt

I’m not really sure who to blame for this, @harriestyles514, anons, still @the-well-rested-one, my rich fantasy life.... Anyway, always good to keep your options open.

In the month that has passed since I last saw (sucked off) Harry Styles, I haven't thought about him. Nope, not at all, not in the shower, not in my bed late at night or early in the morning, and definitely not in bathroom stalls at the label I work at. Never have I ever had to bite my lip to keep quiet while someone has walked into said bathroom while I had my hand down my so trendy I could barf mom jeans.

It's been a long thirty days.

When my infinitely cooler bestie convinces me we should go to the party we are walking into she does not mention his name. I told her, in detail so explicit she said it stressed her out, how it went down the other night, and I think that is why she made the decision to be a devious little B.

It's as we are walking into another giant house, this one with no suit beclad attorney, that she not so casually lets slip, "I heard Styles is supposed to be here tonight."

I stop dead and turn, figurative tail stuck between my trembling legs. Her hands wrap around my waist and she forcibly drags me back from the threshold. I was so close, I could smell the lantanas, and even those rancid little flower globs smelled as sweet as freedom. "What are you doing Elle, don't you wanna see him?"

"No!" I quickly interrupt whatever diatribe she was about to give me about running away from any situation where I'm not sure of victory.

"Ellie-bellie, you totally want to see him: I can tell by all the little mental vacations you've been taking to his bedroom."

"I never saw his bedroom." I remind.

"Fine, his countertop, whatever, it's a rumor anyway. He's kinda a flake I heard."

That makes sense, I exhale and hope, but I'm not sure which I'm wishing for:his presence or absence.

When he walks in two hours later and I'm two, ok four, drinks deep, I realize it was the former.

He looks really good, a little ridiculous in his Gucci shirt. They often make ugly things .Hehas a knack for the whole being more attractive than the sum of its parts. Just look at his face, his body, the parts are good, maybe slightly above average, but the total is devastating.

Before I can stop myself, avert my gaze, he catches me. His eyes widen, then narrow as a smile overtakes his faces. Holy dimples, Batman. My breath has already shallowed and I take my eyes off of him so violently that I jerk my head. I'm sure I looked like a marionette on strings. I vow to myself that I'm not going to let my eyes wander to the side of the room that I know he is on, but they do. He's watching me when I break my word and he smirks this time. It does funny things to my insides. He nods his head to the side, raising his eyebrows. The silent question is posed and I have to decide whether to actually talk to the man who I've had so many exchanges with in my head, many non verbal, or really tuck that tail up my ass and run. It's at this point that Lanie, who's no longer my favorite person, nudges me. Great, she's watched this exchange.

"Go, talk to him."

I kick my feet at the ground, turning my toes in like a  tantrumming toddler, "I don't want to talk to him."

"Ffft, whatever. You keep staring at him, someone would notice if they weren't all doing it too. The difference is that he is looking at you as well. It's your duty to tap that booty and report back to us pleabs!"

"Stahhhp, he's a person! He may not even be interested in me like that again"

She interrupts before I can go further down the well of that line of thought. "Remember how you chose to give him head, but you wound up laid out in his kitchen anyway?" She must have tried a new eyebrow thing, they look different today, I think while I watch them dance on her forehead. Stop dissociating.

"Yes...."

"Also, he's been tracking you all night. He just tried to catch your eye, again, look up." Against my better judgement, I do it, and his eyes look like jade when mine slide to them. He motions again, and I find myself in his tractor beam. I think maybe he is Borg. Nah, he's too nice. Head in the game El, I watch him turn down a corridor and follow. I get pulled by big hands I've tried to forget into a room. I yelp, but bite my lip to stop the sound from being too loud. My face is at his shoulder and his face is in my neck. It's way more intimate them our assignation warrants. Like we were lovers, not a hook up.

"Hiiiii," he breathes into my ear. He sounds happy. I pull back and know it's a mistake. I let my hands drop, so they won't wander, but he does not. Harry grasps my waist, thumbs tracing the tops is my hip bones and tips of his fingers meeting at my sacrum.

There is not enough oxygen in here.

The breathy hi that slips from my mouth would be inaudible if we were not close enough to share air.

"What's up?" I croak and know that he'd see the bloom in my cheeks he'd teased me bout if the lighting was better. He's smirking kindly and I know that he can feel my nerves. Between that and the arousal I'm basically vibrating.

"Not much, M ready to get out of here. Want to come with me?"

I'm always completely surprised by his directness, how not smooth he is. No finesse at all. He doesn't need it, with the charm and the dimple and the face. I guess we met at a sex party, it's not like I'm gonna be his girl. Oh, but if I was his girl....

"Yeah....I think I'd like  an actual tour of your house. The kitchen was beautiful, by the way, I may have chosen a different countertop," my tongue is firmly in my cheek and he guffaws. It's somewhere between a snort and a sneeze and it makes me laugh too.

He shakes with laughter and then shakes his head to clear it. His fingers are still caressing the small of my back and I'm proud that I'm not a puddle on the floor. My panties, poor things, are not so fortunate as the floor.

"Next time I buy a house I'll send you pictures for approval," he brows quirk, "let's see how you like my bed, hm?"

I nod and he explains the plan. He puts his address, which I've remembered, into my uber app and tells me to head out in 20 minutes. They are the longest of my life and the two nails I'm currently biting are getting shorter by the second, his backs gonna look like he hooked up with a sloth.

Raphael arrives to drive me and receives a 5 star because he tells me a wild story about the last time he picked up at this house, effectively saving my other nails from their compatriots fate.  I'm nervous walking up, my knuckles white after I've rung the bell, holding my own hands. The nerves quiet a bit when he answers the door.

"C'mere," he murmurs and pulls me in. I figure that's word go, but instead, he clasps me close in another octopus hug and kisses my forehead. It's sweet, endearing, and confusing. "Want a glass of wine?"

My face must be made of glass because he chuckles.

"Clearly wasn't much of a gentlemen last time," he's taken my hands apart and dragged me to the kitchen. My face is hot as I look at the counter and he follows my gaze before pulling me into him. His hand finds my hip, the other my hair. "Elle? Are you going to talk tonight cuz..."

"You remember my name?"

I'm not sure what my face looks like, but he his forehead is scrunched and mouth agape. "Of course I remember your name, Jesus, what do you take me for?"

At this I finally chuckle and raise a brow delicately. When he giggles I wiggle my brows around and he sniffles and lays his head against mine.

"Um, if the offer still stands, I'll take that glass," I hear myself say and I'm sad when he detaches. He takes off his blazer as he goes though, and throws it on the counter top, where I lay. I hum the song I'm reminded of under my breath. I see his head shake. "What?"

"Hate to disappoint love, but I don't have a brass bed."

The red wine is warm through the goblet he hands me. I put it on the counter instead of to my lips. "Prove it?"

I must be a comedian, he's laughing again, but he's pulling me passed a living room with minimal furniture, but maximum art, and up stairs.

The bed isn't brass. It's king size, with a padded headboard, footboard too. My head thanks him, but I'm sad there is no place to attach ties. Not that we are going there tonight, or ever.

Harry's pressed up against me and his trousers do less than his jeans did for his modesty. His fingers have found the buttons on my top. I had left it mostly undone, a hint of bra but not so much as to offend my own modesty. Two buttons, three, and his hand, which covered most of my stomach to secure me to the counter when I writhed, is in the lacy cup of my bra. His mouth has found my neck. The tips of his tongue and teeth make indents on the column of skin before him, and I laze my head to the side before I pull my heavy right hand up. It feels like I'm swimming through water, but I'm glad I'm not, cuz the zing when my hand finds his skin would mean electrocution. I tickle under the blade of his jaw and tilt down to catch his busy lips with my own.

The callouses on his fingers are welcome against my nipples and I tell him so.

"Yeah?" He smiles and pushes me forward. I catch myself on my left hand, he's kept my right, pulling my blouse off. He pulls my left arm back without releasing my right, and I'm perched in an agreeable position if his hum of approval is anything. He grips both hands in one of his massive paws and reaches around to undo my bottoms. His fingers slip down to my nub after he's undone them, and he slides my slippery clit between the webbing of his pointer and middle finger. "Can you feel the callouses still?" He says as the rough tips of those fingers massage the muscles around my entrance. I'm squirming and nodding. Yes slips over my lips and seems to have a few extra s's.

He pulls me up then and releases my hands. I'm still bound however. His free hand has snaked across my middle, back into my bra and he's still strumming a tune on my quim. I feel his smile, a true cheshire grin, against my neck. Harry has nudged my hair aside and begins his affections for that piece of anatomy anew. His fingers have not quit and I'm trapped, ensnared between those crisscrossed arms of his. Since I cannot wriggle, though I feel as trapped as a fish on a hook, I'm more vocal than I can ever remember being. Words tumble, praises bubble, and my syntax is undone.

I'm undone, and we've barely begun. I squeeze down on the fingers my body is desperately trying to draw in and his name echoes off the walls of his room. When I'm aware again, the little pecks on my cheek juxtapose the wet fingers entering my mouth. I suck them clean to a chorus of "good girl." And he's on his knees pulling down my pants.

I'm naked, and he's fully clothed, again. I'm not sure how I get myself into these positions.

The position he seems to want me in is below him. My companion reverses my position and gives me one kiss, the first to my mouth this evening, at least in our new venue, and pushes me down. I reach to pull Harry upon me. I think of all my sense memories from last time, the saddest I'm to have missed is his weight on top of mine. But, he stays upright and pulls his shirt over head. I'm excited I may see him naked, and the moonlight washes his skin white so his tattoos look like a puppet show against a blank wall. I watch the siren swim to the ship and have a moments fear for the sailors aboard. The illusion is shattered when he bends and the canvas flexes as he quits his pants.

He juts out from his stomach and runs a hand over himself, once, twice. I miss the feel, the taste of love, against my lips and move to sit up. I'm pushed back to parallel. All his laughter is gone, and the look in his eye renews the clench his fingers just effected. I rub my thighs together.

"Elle, open your legs," his voice is husky and my limbs obey without my mind's control. They seem to have a new master. My knees meet the mattress as far from each other as possible and I wonder what picture he sees against my blank skin.

Harry runs his fingers up between my labia before bringing them to his lips. He watches me watch him lick them between those lips. I think they have been foremost in my mind. What I see when I touch myself. I'm transparent.

"Did you think about me?" He comes down on top of me and I hope the white wash of the lighting hides my blush. I'm wrong, I know, when he smiles and smooths his wet fingers over my cheek. I nod, he smiles. It's so sweet, except his long body is naked against my own, and I can feel him softly rutting against my upper thigh. His lips find their way between mine, and his tongue meets my own.

When my hips lift against his own, he moves on to my neck, down over my collarbones, leaving a nick to remember him by. My nipples are pushed together and share the cavern of his mouth. I assume he intends to continue his journey south, but I'm beyond four and have moved onto five play.

"No, no,no," I murmur and he looks up, slightly stricken.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No, please, c'mere, inside me," I get all the words out and he understands.

"Just a minute," and he's off me, I don't like it, but I hear a drawer open and shut, looking up to see him rolling a skin on. One stroke, two. "Put me in," He says, and once again my body listens.

I line him up, and lift my hips. It's been some time and though the fluted head slips in, the flared lip of his tip, recently exposed, provides resistance. I whine. "Shhh, take it easy," He guides and pushes passed my ring of muscle an  inch. The audible pop is echoed by our matching exhales. He slides in another inch and pulls out. I'm full and on the edge of discomfort, I breathe. Focus on that in and out instead until his hips meet mine after he's worked his way in. Once there, he catches my eye. "Ok?"

"Yeah," I want to ask him to move, the pressure of his presence inside me, against my cervix, requires relief. Instead I flex.

"Ughhh, careful Elle," he warns, but pulls back a bit while continuing his break.

"Are you counting to ten?" I joke now that I'm able.

"European capitals, actually" he explains.

We both chuckle and the clench must be welcome this time, because he pulls my knees off their place on the mattress and wraps them around his hips and flexes his ass. It pushes him deep again and I mewl. That line between pleasure and pain I've been flirting with had become an infatuation as he moves into me over and over. My thighs grip him and i lift myself to wave my hips onto his dick. When that's not enough, I sit and he picks me up. My feet plant on his thick quadriceps and I rise and fall along his length until he catches my hips and shakes his head. He pulls me off and I'm face down on the bed while he pulls my hips back. His tongue circles my hood, and his fingers find their way in, I'm rocking back onto both until I make a sound I've never even made in a solo session. It's good, but brief. I hum my content and pull myself to the head of the bed.

His own impending orgasm postponed, and mine accomplished, he fits himself behind me, pushing my top thigh up until my knee meets my shoulder and we both watch as he wets the head of his cock with saliva and fits himself back in where I'm soaking. His name comes out again while I watch him take me, and he pulls my face back to kiss me while the strokes are calm and sure.

The kissing stops and he secures my knee over his shoulder and his hand to my pelvis to keep me in place. I feel like I need to brace myself based on the look in his eyes as he kisses my forehead.

"Ready? Harder?"He asks

I nod again, and am thankful that he has braced me and that the head board is padded when he pushes in rougher. The power and speed increase until I'm gasping and he's groaning "oh my God!"

It's brutal and beautiful and I'm crying out. He buries his face in my neck and groans, pulsing into the condom between us.

By the time I catch my breath, I realize how sweaty I am, how achy I am. This ride home is going to reek and tomorrow I have no idea how I'll explain the marks, or the limp. I hope Harry is not asleep, as he is still inside me, though that situation should remedy itself, but safe sex rules require some action.

"Harry," I nudge, "Harry," kissing his equally sweaty forehead, "The condom."

At this point I'm wrapped into strong arms, "Sleep," He murmurs and I swear he's already out.

I wriggle out from under him effectively limiting my risk as it unjoins us. "Nope."

He groans and gets up like a 100 year old man to make his way to the bathroom. I follow him in and slide into the enclosed toilet. We dance around each other at the door a few minutes later, until he basically picks me up and sets me out of his way, "Move, woman."

I start to slip on my clothes, and he catches me. "What're you doing?" He's rubbing his eyes like a little boy. Cute, fucker.

"Um, gonna call an uber. Thanks?"

"Thanks?" He looks more awake now, "Are you thanking me for a fuck?"

"Yes?"

"That a question?"

"No." I'm laughing, this is the most awkward, ever.

"Look," He sits on the bed where I've just completed pulling up my pants. "The way I see it you have three options-" He ticks them off on his fingers, "Option-A you can call that uber and we leave this at two perfect nights. Option-B you take a shower," he leans over and dramatically sniffs me,  "You need it, look and smell freshly fucked," I slap his face lightly, "And sneak out later. Option -C, you shower, with me, give me a cuddle, and in the morning we talk. I have a proposition for you.."

"Another one?" I interrupt.

"Rude!" He claps his hand over my giggling mouth. "Now as I was saying, When in doubt, always pick C."

[dontshootmespence]

Words Left Unspoken

A/N: An Elle x Reader piece inspired by a reblog of one of my posts from @adropintheocean1234567 where they had feelings for each other before she left the Bureau and they run into each other on the street. After they start talking, the time spent apart doesn’t seem to matter anymore.

                                                              -----

Elle left without a word. She only spoke to Hotch - apparently telling him that she couldn’t do this job anymore. Something about knowing now why Hotch never really smiled anymore.

Granted, this job could take a lot out of you, but everyone on the team knew there was another unspoken reason that she left. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind she had killed that man, but considering she shouldn’t have been out in the field to begin with, and the fact that he walked on a technicality, not because he wasn’t guilty, made you feel like you were being pulled in two different directions. On the one hand, you were a law enforcement agent, bound to uphold the law to the best of your ability. But as a woman and someone truly for justice and not just order, it was difficult to truly fault her for what she’d done. The legal and moral sides of you were conflicted about what had happened - something you still struggled with till this day.

Elle wasn’t just one of your best friends, there had been something else there - something else unspoken that never had the chance because she walked out without saying a word, so while being saddened and confused by her choice to step outside the law and angry at her leaving without saying anything, it took you a while to recover after she left.

While she had left, you took a week off after asking Hotch for permission. You told him that Elle leaving had hurt because you were so close and he told you to take your time. After a while though, her face fainted into a positive memory that you’d hold dear instead of constantly haunting your immediate field of vision. Upon your return to work, you came to the conclusion that on a professional level you couldn’t agree with what Elle had done, but on a personal level, you still saw her as the amazing person she always was.

Her leaving without telling you was still a sore spot. More often that not, you tried not to dwell on it; it was too hard to dissect why she wouldn’t tell her best friend near lover that she was not only leaving her job, but essentially leaving her life behind. 

More than five years had passed since she left. Emily was now a permanent fixture on the team and she was one of your best friends. Most of the team mentioned Elle every now and again, particularly Spencer, who you felt always had a special relationship with her, but she was always on your mind. Perched up against a group picture of the current BAU, stood a picture of you and Elle together.

Fairly frequently, you found yourself daydreaming that you might cross paths with her again. You always, always wondered where she was and if she was happy. There was no doubt that Garcia could track her down for you, but you never wanted to pry into her life like that, so you resisted. 

All you could do was go on and hope she was happy - that was truly all you ever wanted anyway.

                                                             -----

Later that week you found yourself in a mood - the kind of forlorn and depressing mood that was best served by brooding by yourself at the window of your local cafe, so that’s where you went, ordering cup of coffee and a chocolate chip muffin before sitting down at a table. You had been in a funk about Elle all week. Though it had been more than five years, you still had bouts of time where you missed her more than others, and this week had been one of those times. 

With your book open, you began to sip at your iced coffee and get lost in another world. After about an hour, you thought you felt eyes on you, so you lifted your head up - and that’s when you saw her. All the anger and sadness had faded away upon seeing her again. “Elle,” you whispered. 

“Hi, Y/N,” she said, a small smile pricking the corners of her lips as she sat in the chair across from you. “H-How are you?”

Shrugging, you picked up your coffee and took another sip; it was a nervous habit you couldn’t seem to shake. “I’m okay. Working a lot, but you know, otherwise okay. W-what about you?” Despite the shakiness of your voice, you hadn’t felt so comfortable in years. 

Elle must’ve thought that you were going to immediately be angry (and you still were to some degree), because as soon as you asked her how she was, she went into a long spiel about how she was working with victims of sex crimes at a local clinic after having served with the Peace Corps for quite a few years. You asked her if she wanted a coffee or anything, specifically if she still wanted her Americano coffee, large, with a splash of half and half and one packet of sugar, and when she said yes you bought it for her and sat back down, ready to catch up. 

For hours, the two of you sat near the window as the clouds passed overhead, talking about everything from the team (not work, but how the team was doing) to your families, to whether your favorite like movies and colors had changed. Nothing had - everything was still familiar. When there was a lull in the conversation, you reached across the table and placed your hand on top of hers. That spark was still there. “I’ve missed you,” you finally allowed yourself to say.

“I’ve missed you, too,” she said softly. “I-I’m s-sorry I left without saying anything to anyone, especially you.”

“Why did you?” The question was so softly spoken it was barely audible. 

Elle sighed deeply and pressed her chin into the palm of her hand. “It was partly because the weight of the job was just too much for me...”

“And the other part?”

“I think you know the other reason,” she said. There was regret in her eyes, but not for that man, more for the circumstances and the system that let him off in the first place. “I didn’t want to judgement from everyone. Plus, the longer I stuck around the more I knew Hotch would be compelled to investigate. Damn his staunch moral compass.” A hollow laugh left her as she met your eyes again. She must’ve been able to see the hurt so deeply bound within you. “I’m sorry.”

“You could’ve told me you were leaving at least,” you said, the tears stinging the corner of your eye. “You think I don’t understand why you did what you did? Professionally, I can’t agree with you, but personally...that’s a different story. Even if you had decided to leave anyway, at least I would have know, at least maybe we...” You let that thought fly away.

Swallowing hard, Elle squeezed your hand tighter and entwined her fingers in yours. “I know. I made mistakes after a difficult time in my life and I know I hurt people in the process. Is there a chance we could get to know each other again?”

“I’d like that,” you replied. “After all this time, I feel like we still get along like we used to. If we could even have the hope of getting back there, I’d be willing to work to get there if you are.”

“I am,” she said with a smile.

@coveofmemories @sexualemobitch @jamiemelyn @unstoppableangel8 @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @marvelfanlife @amarislestrange​ @obsessed5sosfreak​ @sonhadoraativa @1enchantedfantasy1​ @ace-and-rosey​ @ssamango​ @twelveyearoldchildprodigy​ @offbrandcursewords​ @entelechysymphony​ @milkandcookies528 @pugs-cats-bb-8​ @davidr0ssi​

[imaginarybird]

Because Reasons

@frankchurchillsaysrelax requested Emmett and Elle from Legally Blonde+enemies to friends to lovers+girl/boy next door+High School/College/Teacher AU... And this was born.

It’s not that Emmett hates his new co-chair of the history department on principle (although the position was supposed to be his and his alone this year). It’s not even that he hates her for constantly parking her car in his unofficial parking spot, or for always playing the most ridiculously upbeat pop music in her office that shares a wall with his, or even that she doesn’t believe in written exams and only uses glittery feather topped pens that write in pink ink.

No, the real problem is that her proposal for a student-run news magazine garners at least five times the student interest as his debate team proposal. And when she gets voted the head of the senior send-off committee--a position he’s held with pride for years as the de facto young staff member. And when all of his students start trying to transfer from his classes in favor of hers, and when that doesn’t work, they start attending her after school study sessions instead of his.

All of this coming together, along with her renting the house next door to his so there’s literally no getting away from her… that’s what makes it impossible to stand Elle Woods.

“Emmett, so glad you can join us.” Elle says from the front of the classroom where the senior send-off committee meeting is taking place before school starts, where she’s writing some bullet points on the whiteboard with one of her signature pink markers. “Don’t worry, you’re only ten minutes late so all you’ve really missed is the summary of the last meeting.” 

Reason #24 Emmett tries to avoid dealing with Elle at all costs: she’s always so… perky. Even when she’s being passive aggressive, or downright cutthroat when they’re arguing, Elle is smiling. She’s sweet and smiling and powerful and beautiful and it’s just not normal.

He clenches his jaw as he answers. “The staff parking lot was full.” Because she had pulled into it about fifteen seconds before him and taken his spot. “I had to go to the public lot on the other side of campus.”

“Oh, you should plan ahead next time.” She offers. “It must take about...ten minutes or so to drive over there and walk back.”

“You don’t say.”

The meeting progresses as they always do--everyone presents their ideas, he and Elle snark at each other, everyone likes Elle’s ideas best, he tries to point out the implausibility or the impropriety of doing something like throwing a casino night for a bunch of graduating high schoolers and gets ignored, they snark some more, and somehow he ends up getting volunteered to cover Elle’s detention duty for the month so she can focus her energy on planning the entire venture, starting this afternoon.

Reason # 25: Somehow she can convince anyone to do what she wants. Even when it’s inconvenient for them and they don’t want to do it at all.

He’s in an awful mood for the rest of the day, and because he has to supervise detention, he gets on the road late to head back upstate for his mom’s birthday dinner. Most of the drive is spent mentally cursing Elle’s name because it was her detention duty to begin with and it’s his fault that he ended up taking it and getting stuck in rush hour, and getting to his mom’s nearly an hour later than he had promised.

Even after the dinner, after a nice night with his mom, he’s stuck driving back in the driving rain so it’s dark and miserable and tense and slow again and Emmett can’t help but think somehow that that’s Elle’s fault too.

It would be just like her to be able to control the weather.

Reason # 26.

He finally gets home and all he wants to do is crawl into bed but he can’t. The neighborhood is lit up like the Fourth of July with the flashing blue and red lights of several police cars. And they’re all gathered in the driveway and on the lawn next to his.

Emmett’s heart jumps up into his mouth in the moments between figuring out where all the cops are and spotting Elle’s blonde hair and pink trench coat amongst the crowd and realizing that whatever had happened, she was all right. He feels sick anyways as he gets out of his car and takes in the whole scene.There are broken windows, the front door is barely on its hinges...he can only imagine what the inside of the house must look like… How scared Elle must be if she were inside.

Reason # 27: She’s not despicable enough. He can’t stand her and yet he’s worried about her anyway. How is any of this fair?

With a slight sigh he gets out of his car, upturning the collar of his jacket against the rain and crosses over to Elle’s lawn, just to ask the police what exactly had happened.

Elle spots him before he can even get a word out and rushes over; she pulls him into a hug that lasts far too long considering they’ve only ever shaken hands before and he thinks maybe, possibly, that she might be crying onto his shoulder.

Completely unsure of what to do, Emmett uses one hand to pat Elle on the back. Once, then twice, and she pulls away before he can go for a third tap.

“Oh my god, Emmett it’s awful. I got home and someone had broken in! The house is a disaster, my things are all over the place or missing…”

“So you weren’t inside when it happened? You’re OK?”

“I’m fine.” Elle nods, crossing her arms over her chest. “Whoever it was broke in while I was at the grocery store. They were gone by the time I got back. Which is too bad because I took four years of krav maga in college and I would have been more than happy to dust off my skills if I had found the skeezy jerk who painted such a disgusting message in my room.”

It takes a second for Emmett to parse out the most important information there. “Wait, you went in the house? Before the police got here?”

“Of course! I had to see if they had taken anything.”

Reason # 28: She has positively no sense of self-preservation.

But Emmett can barely contemplate it before one of the police officers comes over, provides Elle with a rundown of what they’ve found thus far, and tells her she’ll need to find a place to stay for the night. Elle looks suddenly small again, soaked from the rain and more than a little nervous about the whole affair. His mouth and brain refuse to communicate on the matter.

“She can stay with me.”

Gaining a roommate in Elle Woods is an experience unto itself. 

She critiques the contents of his shower (“Emmett, grown men do not only have a bar of soap and a bottle of Head and Shoulders to bathe themselves with”). She borrows clothes. She makes breakfast.

She makes good breakfast.

Reason # 29: She’s good at everything she tries. Who does that?

It’s actually kind of frustrating to share a living space with Elle. Because the longer Emmett is around her, the more time they spend in the same room doing their respective grading, the more conversations she drags out of him, the more cleanly scented products that seem to find their way into his bathroom, the more he realizes she’s kind of… nice. And caring. And if she does control the weather she’s probably only doing it better the world of the people around her.

Reason # 30 Elle Woods is the actual worst: She’s not the worst at all and Emmett’s going to have to admit (if only to himself) that he was, in at least a few different ways, wrong about her.  

Before too long--maybe three or four days into what was going to be a one night stay--Emmett and Elle are actually sharing stories about themselves and laughing together in more than a ‘I can’t tolerate you but we’re colleagues so I’ll pretend that you’re super funny’ kind of way.

And then they start eating lunch together. Sharing a living space and being a friend to the environment (“I’ll have you know that one of my first acts when I was put in charge of my Delta Nu chapter was to get our house put on solar power. We have a responsibility to care for our planet, Emmett.”) means that they start commuting so he gets his parking space back, sort of.

“I’m glad to see you and Ms. Woods are finally working past your differences.” The headmaster says one day as he and Emmett walk out of a staff meeting where Emmett and Elle had found themselves in agreement on every issue and teaming up on more than one occasion to argue their points. “The history department, and indeed the school will be a finer place for your friendship.”

Emmett’s not entirely sure that he and Elle are friends or if they’ve finally just realized that the things they were finding annoying about each other are a little more endearing when they got to know each other, but he does know that when the repairs on Elle’s house are finished and she officially has no more excuses to stick around at his place, the morning he wakes up and there’s not a blonde doing tae bo in his living room while bacon fries in the kitchen, the house feels like something is missing.

The school year continues and at a certain point Emmett knows for certain that he and Elle are definitely friends. He would never in a million years let someone who wasn’t his friend go through his wardrobe and replace all the clothes that make him look like a quote-unquote ‘scruffy fuddy-duddy’(“Emmett, you’re a history teacher at a prep school in his thirties, the kids will take you more seriously if you don’t dress like an ivy league philosophy professor from 1973”). 

This doesn’t mean he stops hating her--reason # 33: she signs every text message with a heart emoji and he’s pretty sure she actually means it--but his feelings of hate stop being that jaw-clenching, boiling sensation in his gut and start feeling a lot more… fluttery. Like someone shakes up a warm bottle of champagne and lets it explode all over him, leaving him comfortable and tingly and on edge all at the same time.

That’s what hating Elle Woods feels like now that they’re friends.

It’s a feeling that seems to grow every time she throws her head back in laughter or settles down to do some serious work, throwing on reading glasses and chewing on the end of a pen cap.

He’s not sure that he likes being friends with Elle--his inner grump doesn’t know what to do with himself now that everything she does is kind of endearing rather than being the most annoying thing on the planet--but they keep getting closer regardless. Elle has a way of doing that. Of knowing the right things to say and being adorable and actually being really helpful when he needs it. They’re constantly spending time together and as much as he hates her, he doesn’t really hate it at all.

Maybe that’s why it stings so much when Elle announces that she’ll be spending her summer break back in her home of Malibu. Because he’s gotten used to spending time with her and they’ve built a good working relationship and he had just assumed that she’d be working with him at the school’s summer program too. It’s definitely not because he’s going to miss her.

Except the more he thinks about it, the closer they get to the end of the year and the more she talks about her trip, the more Emmett starts to consider that it might be.

Reason #34: He’s going to miss her. 

Well, that’s just not going to work.

Emmett’s used to having people in his life not stick around so this shouldn’t be a big deal, particularly since she’ll come back in the fall but for some reason it feels like it is. Only he can’t say anything because that definitely won’t work so he can do nothing but go back to clenching his jaw and biting his tongue whenever he’s around her. He just needs to put a little distance back between them; after all you can’t miss someone that you’re not close with so if he stops sharing with her, stops finding her jokes so funny, stops wanting to be her friend...a summer without her won’t be so bad.

“Would you stop being weird?”

Of course...Elle notices and she’s not one to keep quiet about what she notices and when they’re chaperoning prom a couple of weeks before graduation she gives him an exasperated look while they count the King and Queen Ballots.

“What?”

“Stop being so weird.” She repeats abandoning her work. “It’s been a couple of weeks and I can’t think of a single thing that I’ve done to bug you lately, and we only have a couple weeks left before I leave for the summer, so either tell me what I did so I can apologize and we can go back to the way things were or...stop acting like a butthead!”

“A butthead?” Emmett sputters over the insult, unable to believe that it’s what Elle landed on. Not even his students use such...silly benign put-downs. He’s oddly offended that she didn’t pick something better. “You think I’m a butthead?”

“I think you’ve got a lot of butthead tendencies.” She huffs. “Your stubbornness and inability to say what you’re actually thinking being two of them.”

“How do you know I don’t say what I’m thinking?”

“Because if you did, you’d tell me why you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you Elle, I’m gonna miss you!”

Oh.

Oh, she’s good. She’s really good.

Emmett doesn’t even realize what he’s said until a second or two afterwards when Elle is staring at him with her mouth hanging open.

“You’re gonna miss me?”

Angry with himself for letting the feelings he’s been trying to bury out so easily, and more than a little embarrassed because this is not the sort of thing he does or the kind of conversation he has ever but if he refers back to reason #25...it’s somehow impossible to not give in to her, Emmett feels his cheeks heat up and looks to the side at the start of his answer. “Of course I’m going to miss you. It’s actually infuriating how much I’m going to miss you. Everything you do is annoying and yet somehow adorable at the same time and it’s not fair because we were not friends and we were never going to be but you wormed your way into my life anyways and now it’s impossible to think about what my summer’s going to be like without you force-feeding me quinoa salads and buying me ties that cost more than my car payment because you think they’ll bring out my eyes and not getting to see you crinkle your nose when you get frustrated because I’m fighting you on all of that and--,”

Elle leans across the table, cupping his face in her hands. She presses her lips to his, smiling as she pulls away. “I’m gonna miss you too.”

Oh.

Oh.

Reason # 35 Emmett Forrest hates Elle Woods: He doesn’t hate her at all.

[gsmhseattle]

Only Freaking Superheroes (Pt. 19)

Time Update-- June 1

Sarah Hunt-- 15

Jack Hunt-- 13

Hudson Hunt-- 6

Kenzie Hunt-- 2

Caleb, Tessa, and Eliza Hunt-- Three Months Old (born 2/7)

Elle Shepherd-- 17

Baby Shepherd-- newborn

Anna Avery-Kepner-- 16

Joel Avery-Kepner-- 6

As Amelia pulled into the driveway of their Seattle home, she turned off the engine and looked over to her eldest who sat in the passenger’s seat, sleeping soundly. A smile grew on her face as she looked from her daughter to their home to their surroundings. They were finally home. After five months of being stuck in California with the triplets and then Sarah’s surgery and recovery, they’ve made it to the one place they’ve wanted to be for months.

“Hey love, Sarah, wake up.” She put a hand on Sarah’s thigh, rubbing it in hopes of getting Sarah out of her sleep. “Sarah Addison, we’re home.”

Sarah’s eyes opened slowly as she stretched and looked around. No longer were there palm trees and such surrounding her, but tall Evergreens and the sight of Mt. Rainier in the distance. She glanced to her mother, who was enamored by her at the moment.

“Are we home, Mama?”

“We are, love. Excited?”

Tilting her neck to crack it, Sarah shrugged. “It’s just Dad and the kids. Nothing too exciting.”

Amelia laughed. “You sure? You haven’t been home in five months, haven’t seen a majority of your friends or family for that amount of time, and you’re saying this isn’t too exciting?”

“Yep. Can you help me out, Mama?”

“Oh, yeah.”

The mother rushed to the other side of the car, opening the passenger door and offering a hand for her daughter. Helping her gain her balance, Amelia slowly stepped back.

Though the surgery was months ago, Sarah continued daily to recover and get back to 100%. One of the things that was a constant improvement was her mobility. The neurosurgeon saw her go from barely being able to walk to just needing a hand getting up and going.

“You good, Sar?”

“Maybe. Can I hold onto you for a bit?”

“Of course. Let’s go.” Amelia began leading the pair from the car to the front door. Before long, Sarah stopped, confused.

“What about the luggage?”

“Papa’ll get it.” She replied as they continued around the corner of the bush to find mason jars lined up on the path, lit with a small tealight candles in them.

Sarah watched her surroundings as they shocked her. The lights in her home were dimmed a bit, there were tons of shoes left outside the front door, and the head of her second youngest brother peaked out the curtains before disappearing again.

“They’re coming! They’re coming!” She heard his muffled response as Hudson presumably ran further into the house. Two seconds later, Owen opened the door, smiling as he saw his girls.

“I thought you two would never make it up here.” He grinned, jogging to come help Amelia with Sarah.

“Only took a two day drive to make it up here, O.”

“I know but our home was even more empty without our honey bee in it. How you feeling, bee?”

“Just tired. But I guess I’m excited.” Sarah looked to Amelia, who laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Oh you... O, is everything ready for Sar?”

“Yep. Kids are ready, foods ready, everybody’s there except for you two.”

“What?” Sarah looked between her parents as they made it to the front door. “Mom, Dad, what’s going on?”

The couple stopped at the door, having Sarah sit on the porch swing for a moment. They glanced lovingly at each other before looking right back at their confused oldest.

“Sar, honey, I love you with all my heart. You know that right?” Amelia, now kneeling in front of her younger self, put a hand on her knee. “And you know that I wouldn’t trade the world for you, right?”

Sarah nodded once more at the statement as Owen stepped closer, putting a hand on Amelia’s back as she stood back up. “But the thing is, love, we are not the only ones that love you to pieces. Come inside.”

Now on her own with a slight imbalance in her legs, Sarah walked with Owen to the door with Amelia trailing close behind them. He opened it for the teen, revealing the large, dark living room. Sarah could hear some whispers, but see nothing before her. Amelia pushed her way through to get inside, turning on the lights to reveal one of the biggest surprises Sarah had ever seen.

In the living room of her large home, her friends, family, and teammates stood there, smiles and grins as they exclaimed for Sarah’s homecoming. A long banner hung on the upper level’s catwalk’s banster, reading, “Welcome Home Sarah!”, in random fonts, multiple colors, and scribbles all over.

Amelia came alongside her daughter now, guiding the shocked one in. “Welcome home, babe.”

“This is all for me?”

“Told you that some people were crazy about you.”

The parents guided the oldest to the couches, having her sit in the grey fabric recliner. Jack, holding Caleb, and Hudson, with Kenzie close to him, sat on the couch next to the seat. They gave a small smile upon seeing their big sister home.

“Did you get to see the waterfall that Mama and Papa talk about all the time, Sarah?!” Hudson exclaimed as Owen warned him to not be too excited around Sarah.

“Multnomah?” She replied as Hudson nodded. “Yeah, it was just as pretty as Mama and Papa say it is.”

Jack shifted his youngest brother, looking to his big sister once more. “I’m glad you’re okay, Sar.”

“Thanks punk.”

“Promise me that you won’t do anything stupid like that again, okay?”

“I’ll try my best.”

Moments later, as Sarah continued to catch up with her siblings, she felt one person tapping her shoulder, begging for her attention. She turned around as best she could to see who it was, but the result shocked her incredibly.

“Anna?”

“Surprise!” The brunette ran to the front of Sarah, wrapping her up in a hug. “My parents heard from yours about your homecoming and flew me out to see you.”

“Oh my god, this is incredible. How’s Joel and your mom and dad? How’s Hawaii? Can you surf?” Her mind ran rampant with the multitudes of questions in her head.

“Hawaii’s very different from Seattle. Lots of palm trees, coconuts, and pineapples. I can’t surf yet, but my dad is trying to teach me everyday. Joel’s a little punk that’s slowly becoming grown up, which scares me. And my mom…” Anna turns around to point at a pregnant April.

Sarah’s jaw dropped. “No way.”

“Way. They found out a few weeks after we moved there. Baby number three is on it’s way.”

“You thinking it’s a girl?”

Anna nodded, confident in the idea. But soon her eyes drifted behind Sarah to Elle, who held a baby close to her chest, but kept a good distance from the Hunt family.

“Um, Elle’s here.” Anna sighed whilst looking to her best friend. “She isn’t sure if you want to talk to her or not. The last time you two talked wasn’t pleasant to say the least.”

“She had her baby, right?”

“Mhm. Emilia Grace Shepherd. Emmy for short.”

Giving thought of the fact that her cousin named her daughter that, Sarah shook her head. “I don’t want to talk to her.”

“But Sarah..”

“No. I want to talk to you. Now, tell me. Your mom’s pregnant?”

Now, standing before the crowd of people, Amelia and Owen stood with a glass in the husband’s hand. With a hand around his wife’s shoulders, he began to try and capture the attention of their guests.

“Friends, family, and my Hunt clan, Amelia and I wanted to thank you for coming today to celebrate the homecoming of our dearly loved, Sarah Addison.” Cheers and applauses erupted from the many as Sarah blushed at Owen’s words.

Nonetheless, the father continued. “15 years ago, we were blessed with a little surprise that we ended up naming Sarah. Since that day, she’s been full of surprises. From coloring on the walls when she was a year old to being injured while in California. Not only has she been a surprise and given us many of them, but she’s dealt with many surprises that have been thrown her way-- her best friend moving to Hawaii, her cousin getting pregnant, her mom expecting triplets, a move to California, transferring schools... All those things have happened over the course of the past few months. And Sarah?”

“Yeah dad?”

“You’re my superhero because of it.” Owen watched as Sarah blushed and Anna beamed with pride for her best friend. “We can all of you kids our superheroes. Even the triplets. Because that is what you all are to your mom and I— you’re our own superheroes. You wake up everyday, knowing the world you live in and the things you have to deal with, and you take them with pride, conquering them in it all. Mom and I are proud of you for that. Especially Miss Sarah with how her life’s rolled out lately.”

Amelia soon took a turn to speak. “Honey bee, I’ve told you everyday since you woke up from your surgery that I love you because you are you. That is still the case. I don’t want you to ever forget for a minute that you’re my superhero. I look up to you in every sense of the word. And I hope that I get to be just like you some day, bee.”

[roarsthedandelion]

We Can’t Have a Crisis, My Schedule is Full

So this is @emilygegendiewelt‘s real late birthday present, featuring characters from a tv show i’m developing. If you wanna see more of this and other projects, I started a blog for all that: @schlichtingandco!

Now was not the time for her stubbornness. It could put them all in danger. She knew that. She knew she was putting them all at risk. Eloise Blue, she told herself, you’re their Euadne, a General of the Western Tribes. You have to be impenetrable, indefatigable, unconquerable.

She felt miserable.

And Calvin, for pity’s sake, was even worse off than she was where workload was concerned. The Bridgers were still more of a shaky alliance than a nation. He was constantly laying out strategies, handling reports from all over the globe. This last week, she’d barely seen him. He went to bed long after she began dreaming; he rose long before the sun. He haunted the house, a ghost of himself almost completely relegated to their study.

She would’ve been more worried about it if she weren’t only there to sleep. Their official dress had been found on the edges of the bed, on the backs of their chairs, in the study, in the bathroom. They were lucky if they ever got a shower, let alone do laundry the normal way, but it didn’t really matter because no one would dare tell them that they stink. There’s a war on, and that means sacrifices. That was probably why it had taken longer than maybe it should have to realize what was happening, and even longer to figure out how she felt about it.

Now all that was left was to talk to him about the situation, to make sure they were both on the same page. Ellie didn’t bother knocking on the study door, instead pushing it open slightly and walking around the desk till she nearly stood over him, leaning back against the edge of the wood. She let her eyes roam, enjoying the fact that he’d once again decided it was too warm to wear a shirt indoors and that neither of them had ever been the kind to be embarrassed about being caught staring. Then she remembered why she was here, practically sitting on his desk waiting for him to finish what he was doing, and she sighed to herself. Cal, noticing the weight that had settled over her, hurriedly scrawled something at the side of one of the reports he was reading and turned the chair to face her.

Gods, he was handsome, even when he looked like Death warmed over. It was unfair, honestly. Her fingers brushed at his hair. It was getting longer. Would he get it cut? Did they have the time?

His eyes crinkled when he smiled. “Hey. Long time, no see.”

“No kidding. Missed you.” She felt a swell in her chest, the one she knew meant she loved him. It was too easy to lose herself in this. Her hand gravitated back to her other arm, grasping at the elbow.

Calvin tried (and failed) to hide a yawn. “Missed you, too, Sunbeam.”

She glowed at the nickname, the electricity made manifest beneath her skin. “Before we talk about what I came to talk about, I should tell you I don’t have the time for a crisis. All booked, you see.”

“You’re telling me.” She could hardly blink; she had to see his reaction.  He gave her the once over he used to do when he was looking for bruises she wasn’t showing him, but came up empty. “It’s not a crisis, is it?”

Elle shook her head. “I sure as hell hope not,” she breathed. “I don’t know what to do if it is.”

“Ok, so tell me.” There was a little nervousness in his tone, but they’d work it out. Whatever it was, however enormous, they’d never failed yet. They were too good together.

She took a deep breath. “I’m almost 4 months along.”

“Along?” And then it hit him, and he sat back in the spinning chair, blinking stupidly. “How do you feel about it?”

She laughed. Of course, this is when he’d be overly considerate. “I’m scared. But I’ve wrapped my head around it, and well-”

“You were just here to get my reaction.” She nodded. He smiled. “Worrywart.”

“Well, there’s also the fact that I can’t keep wearing loose clothes forever. I’m leading an army. It’s impractical.”

“I’m not sure showing off is going to help either.”

“Maybe for morale?”

“Make you a bigger target?” he countered.

“Maybe I’d just like to wear pants. When have I ever not been a target, though? Might as well have gotten a bull’s eye tattoo while I was at it.”

His expression was soft when he looked at her now. She wished that they were talking about this in a moment that was all their own. Somewhere, sometime when things weren’t life and death. Where it could just be life, beating its chest and screaming from the rooftops, and they could be vulnerable enough to be excited. This was their child. This was what they wanted.  

But they couldn’t forget who they were outside of here. Not right now. “What are we going to do after the baby’s born?”

She shrugged. “Maybe your brother’s family?” 

“No way, Elle. They don’t have a clue about what’s going on. Too dangerous.”

“Can’t keep them close, either. At least your brother’s family isn’t in the middle of a real life game of Risk.”

“But I’m not sure they wouldn’t turn on our child if they came into their abilities early. Who knows how long it’ll be until we get to see them again? To teach them they’re normal. They could grow up believing that they’re wrong or they’re unwanted. Could you stand that?”

“Of course not. None of this is ideal, but I want them alive. They have to be. That’s the most important thing.” The worry that held her captive, like water in a dam, suddenly broke. She almost wanted to laugh through the tears and hiccups and snot. Cal usually cried first. She’d just held this longer.

Cal tugged her wrist, and she noticed that she’d been gripping her arm too hard. She let him pull her into his embrace, settling onto his lap. His hands pressed into her back, arms wound around her like a shield, trying so hard to hold her pieces together while she sobbed into his shoulder. “So maybe we haven’t got it all figured out yet.”

“Incredible deduction, Watson,” Elle deadpanned.

“Adler,” he shot back.

She stuck her tongue out at him, and he took that as a cue to kiss her the way he’d wanted to since she’d arrived in the study. “Worst case scenario: they’re like us.” Another kiss. “Best case scenario: they’re like us. We’re gonna be fine, Elle.”

They stayed that way for a while, holding each other and crying. Ellie’s eyes were puffy when she sat up, her face red as she pushed at the tears on his cheeks. “Parker, we’re gonna be parents. I’m pretty sure fine doesn’t begin to cover it.”

“You know, if we didn’t have to be scared, I’d be so happy.” He breathed. “I’m still kind of happy.”

“I know. Me, too.”

[capsulecloset]

Favorite movies of 2016

Every year, I like to note movies I loved throughout the year and reflect back on them.  It’s like a journal.  2016 seemed to have a LOT of movies, and I really tried to see everything.  I still am anxious to see Fences, Silence, and Hacksaw Ridge, and maybe I’ll update this post when I do, but I wanted to share my favorites list where it’s at now.

1.  Moonlight - I don’t want to over-hype this one because there’s already so much buzz out there, but I was blown away by this shimmering, intimate portrait.  Beautiful, wrenching performances and cinematography.

2.  Manchester by the Sea - I went into this movie and little skeptical of all the hype I’d heard, to be honest.  But it’s wonderfully restrained storytelling about grief that feels so real.  I thought the casting all around, even with smaller parts, was great.

3.  Arrival - This is not the movie they’re marketing in the trailers.  It’s such an achievement in all of the elements of filmmaking--performance, visuals, music--coming together in perfect cinematic harmony.  So effective.  It gave me so many feelings.

4.  Other People - Don’t be fooled by the awful thumbnail image they’re using on Netflix.  This little-known gem of a dark comedy has some seriously incredible performances.  It’s really funny, really moving, and has one of the best musical callbacks I’ve ever seen.  Streaming now on Netflix.

5.  20th Century Women - I found this movie to be imperfect, but so beautiful.  The structure is winding, sometimes sloppy, but it works, echoing the visuals of driving the central California coast that the movie employs so well.  Annette Bening is wonderful, and the rest of the cast is strong as well.

6.  O.J.:  Made in America - This is technically more of a mini-series, but it’s being called a movie in various places lately (maybe because of award campaigning), so I’m including it here.  Wow.  Just a great doc.  Some of the most WTF talking head interviews ever, and some powerfully enlightening context to the O.J. trial.  Streaming now on Hulu.

7.  The Witch - A truly unsettling horror movie that basically serves as an origins story.  It’s quietly creepy (not a lot of jump scares), and gorgeously designed.  I was enthralled the whole time.  Streaming now on Amazon Prime.

8.  American Honey - I love Andrea Arnold as a director, and her taste for naturalism.  She’s able to make poverty look romantic, even when it’s piercingly hard to watch.  This movie is a slow burn, and the best thing I’ve ever seen Shia Labeouf in (except maybe that Sia video).  Lead Sasha Lane is also amazing.  Now rentable on Amazon Prime.

9.  The Handmaiden - Holy bananas, this movie is nuts.  It’s actually a few twists short of the wild ride of a novel it’s based on, but it’s still just what you would expect from Oldboy director Park Chan-Wook.  It’s a funny, intense thriller with a dash of love story.

10.  The Lobster - This movie is also crazy, but in a  much subtler way.  I don’t know if I’ve ever been more disturbed throughout a film, but I also laughed the entire way through.  A truly dark, dark comedy, and everyone in it gets the joke.  Streaming now on Amazon Prime.

11.  A Bigger Splash - A solid French-y love triangle thriller with a great cast.  I just love watching Tilda Swinton as a rock star vacationing in Italy.  Eye candy and intrigue.  Now rentable on Amazon Prime.

12.  Weiner - This is a super well-done portrait that really challenged what I thought about Anthony Weiner and political discourse in general--and then switched it up on me time and time again.  Now on Showtime.

13.  Green Room - If you’re into horror movies at all, you have to see this solid home invasion film about a punk band who gets stuck playing a skinhead concert and becomes entangled in a very dangerous situation.  It breaks my heart to watch Anton Yelchin and know he’s no longer with us, because what a talent.  Streaming now on Amazon Prime.

14.  Elle - I don’t truly know what to make of this film and what it’s saying about rape, but I was enthralled nonetheless, enjoying a 90s-thriller kind of vibe that it has.  Isabelle Huppert is incredible and deserving of all the awards.

15.  Midnight Special - I had a couple issues with the logic of this movie, but enjoyed it pretty well nonetheless.  It has one of the best opening chase sequences I’ve ever seen.  Now streaming on HBO Go.

Honorable mentions:  Jackie, Loving, 13th, Deadpool, Pet Fooled, The Invitation, the Burberry ad that played before the Handmaiden

Unpopular opinions:  I didn’t like La La Land.  And it’s not because I’m not a “musical person” --I actually love musicals.  I just didn’t think it was a very good one.  I also was lukewarm on Rogue One, which I fully expected to love.  It didn’t have the same characterization that got me so on board with A Force Awakens last year, and I was disappointed in a lot of opportunities missed.  I think it might have worked better broken up into multiple films, with more time spend developing conflict and character.

Looking at this list as whole, it’s pretty bleak.  A lot of sad, grim, and just plain heavy movies.  Maybe that’s reflective of where we are as a country, maybe it’s reflective of me and my tastes right now.  But it’s interesting to see, regardless.  It’s also a fairly feminist bunch of movies, so that something!

Update:  Hidden Figures makes the list!  If only for a beautiful scene about bathrooms.  Phenomenal cast and great story.  Here’s one that’s actually uplifting.