#and yesterday while playing with the wife we did discuss how it's gotten longer still since winter year 3.

[landgraabbed]

small housekeeping update: i've finally made the trek to the mass post editor and added household tags to all my (applicable) bloom valley posts as my wife suggested a long time ago. the format is f: [household name].

i'll most likely rehaul my blog page and navigation to better reflect the current state of my tunglr really soon, but until then this will have to do

#it was interesting to see bloom valley go from just something i started as a spur of the moment thing to my only sims related project #and the rounds go longer and longer lmfao #like. going from one post a season for all households. to one household post per season. to what it is now #and yesterday while playing with the wife we did discuss how it's gotten longer still since winter year 3. #i am currently on the second to last household of spring year 4 #but it's good. i'm having fun. just interesting to see the trend!

[hell-much]

RFTA - Cutting Room Floor - 6

A cut scene from the epilogue featuring jealous!Sansa and an alternative version of the discussion about who will succeed Margaery as Hand. 

...

“You’re awfully quiet, sweet girl.”

Blue eyes that had been drifting over the scenery blinked up, appeared a little caught. Margaery studied her wife’s face for a moment longer. The weariness in her eyes had not lifted since yet. When she had arrived, Margaery had blamed it on the strains of the long travels, but since then almost three days had passed. Three days that Margaery had assured where only very sparely occupied by official ordeals, that had, or should have, given Sansa appropriate time to rest.

“I’m sorry. I must have been lost in thought,” Sansa lied, even more poorly than usual. Her eyes dragged to where Olin was playing with Sam and Gilly’s children on the greeneries and she managed a small smile. “I didn’t know hide-the-treasure, was something kids played in the South as well.”

Margaery followed her gaze. “I thought Olin must have picked it up in Winterfell.”

Sansa shook her head. “Not from me.” Eyes wandered out to black water bay once more. “Maybe Arya taught him.”

“Maybe.” Margaery observed her and her sad eyes for another moment, then reached across the table and squeezed Sansa’s hand. “I’m so happy that you’re here.”

Sansa’s grip on her was loose, bore the perfect equivalent to her weak smile. “It was well overdue.”

It was. There was no denying it. In the almost six years they were separated, Margaery had not missed a single year in coming to see Sansa in Winterfell, while Sansa had only made it south once; her short visit to Highgarden a couple of years back. Not that Margaery believed in counting up things like that.

Their situations were different, it was as simple as that. For Sansa to leave for a couple of weeks or even months was not as simple. Not that it was always simple for Margaery either.

In the first couple of years, the dire situation of the North had left Sansa indispensable, and then after, once Arya had become absent more frequently, there was nobody she trusted enough to leave Winterfell and the North in their hands. That reason was debatable in Margaery’s eyes, but she had always known and loved her strong sense of responsibility. And there was the plain fact that Sansa’s aversion against the South -safe perhaps Highgarden- had, and would never completely cease.

Decisive Margaery pulled her napkin off her lap and set it next to her plate. “I still have some time before her grace awaits me, shall we go for a walk? There is a most gorgeous secluded little spot down by the water that I wanted to show you.”

Enthusiasm looked a great deal different, but Sansa nodded her head.

“I have hoped that I could show it to you one day,” Margaery elaborated as she hooked her arm through Sansa’s and they started their path along grovel paths. She lowered her voice with her next words. “It’s most romantic.”

Sansa mustered a small smile. “I should have known you had ulterior motives.”

“Always, my love. With you always.”

Margaery watched her closely, saw the smile stay in place a moment longer, before it was replaced once more with the same weariness from before. She supressed a sigh, and led her along the path in silence for a while. Decided to give her a chance for once to break through the silence, to maybe speak what was on her mind at last.

Nothing came though, they walked quietly next to each other, followed the narrow steep way down to the sea, their only conversation occasional words about watching their steps, muttered thanking when helping each other down particular steep parts of the way.

Margaery kept silent until they had reached the spot. A small ledge, overlooking Blackwater Bay, only accessible through a small gap between the trees. An old, weathered stone bench that was nearly taken over by the bushes surrounding it, served as the only indicator that once more people than her had known about this spot. It was just that wilderness of it, that created the magic. High grass and wildflowers, low hanging branches of willows.

She spun around to Sansa and offered her most enchanting smile, as she captured both her hands. “Gorgeous isn’t it? It’s where I come to hide out in all too long days. I have not even shown Olin.”

There was a small hint of genuine awe in Sansa’s tired eyes. “It’s beautiful. Even if I don’t know how I feel about you walking that way on your own, without telling anyone.”

Margaery chuckled. “I’m always very careful, I promise.” She pulled Sansa towards the bank and they sat down. “But it truly is gorgeous, isn’t it? I found it one day when chasing after one of the bloody cats.”  

Amusement snuck into Sansa’s features. “That’s a long way to make for an animal you claim to not even like.”

“You know as well as I the tragedy that would have occurred if I had not found the retched animal.”

Sansa nodded thoughtfully, and Margaery used the returning silence to find her lips in a long kiss. The reciprocating took a moment, but it came, however reserved. Her hands snuck around Sansa’s waist and traced over the heavy material of her dress.

“Aren’t you boiling, my love?” She asked between kisses.

“It’s a summer dress,” Sansa gave back.

“A northern summer dress,” Margaery gave back teasingly. Her hand found the skirt of Sansa’s dress and pulled it up a little. “At least lift your skirts. I don’t want you to have a heatstroke.”

She bunched the fabric up to Sansa’s knees, set a hand on top of her leg, fingertips gracing at the inside of her thigh. With a smile she leaned in for another deep kiss.

“There, isn’t that better.”

Sansa shook her head amidst a meagre smile. “You’re incorrigible.”

Abandoning her lips, Margaery moved her own along the extent of Sansa’s neck, sucked gently on the sensitive flesh. “I have had a lot of time alone here, wishing you were with me.” Her hand graced a bit further up Sansa’s leg, and she pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “Imagining all the things we could do.”

It took a moment for comprehension to settle in Sansa’s eyes, just another proof of how absentminded she was. She pressed her lips together and gently pulled Margaery’s hand away.

“Let’s save that for later,” she pleaded.

Margaery followed her request without a single objection and leaned her head onto her shoulder. This notion had been a stretch under the best circumstances, in Sansa’s current mood an impossibility.

“Forgive me,” she pleaded and set Sansa’s skirt back in place. “I got carried away.”

She entangled their hands and for a long silent moment they looked out together on the sea. The consideration to ask what was weighing on her, but decided against it. She didn’t want Sansa to think that her rejected advances was what let her question her state of mind. Even when the lack of any physicality between them was peculiar, very much untypical for them.

In the first night after their arrival, she had still believed Sansa’s claim to be tired. But in the two that had followed since then, when Sansa had curled up on her side and closed her eyes the moment they had slipped between the covers, had her increasingly bewildered.

It was undeniable, that Sansa had been distant, only Margaery had no idea what had brought that on.

“Has Olin gotten around to giving you the grand tour of his chamber yet?”

At Sansa gave another small smile. “Yesterday. I’m now acquainted with all his toys. And he made a small parade of all his favourite clothes.”

Margaery chuckled. Gods help them, his adoration for clothes and fancy fabrics, for anything that was extravagant, reminded her a little too much of Loras sometimes.

“Did he present you his sword too?”

Sansa nodded. “Before anything else.”

“Gendry made it for him,” Margaery elaborated.

“So he said.”

“He has given him lessons in using it too.” Margaery smiled pensively.

Gendry had been most wonderful with Olin. Never tiring answering the thousand questions that their son spew every day, he had been taking him ridding several times now. Olin adored the ground Gendry walked on, and for once, other than with Tyrion, who was on the receiving end of Olin’s admiration still, Margaery found Gendry truly deserving of it.

“Isn’t he a little young for that?” Sansa questioned, an edge in her tone.

Margaery looked up at her with drawn up eyebrows. “I thought we settled on letting me be the mother that constantly worries?”

“This is not the same as climbing trees, or riding horses,” Sansa shot back. “This is basically learning to kill someone.”

The manner she said those words, had Margaery frown. From what she had seen of their training sessions, he had shown great consideration and patience in taming Olin’s enthusiasm of wanting to be an abled knight yesterday. Had taught him how to handle a sword responsibly, rather than charging at his opposite with it blindly.

“It’s a lot more playful than you imagine it,” Margaery gave back.

“I don’t know if weapons are that ever.”

“Oh my, your imagination is getting the better of you there, sweet girl,” Margaery smiled up at her, brushed, a hand through her hair, but only felt her more tense under her touch. “Didn’t your brothers play with swords when they were Olin’s age? … And Arya?”

“Wooden swords,” Sansa answered. “My father would have never allowed a real sword in the hands of a seven-year-old.”

“Olin’s is hardly sharp enough to go through butter,” Margaery assured quickly. “Gendry explained me that it’s just supposed to get him used to the weight. You should watch them practice in the next days. That will ease your mind certainly.”

The rigid posture that had crept into Sansa’s body remained, as she averted her eyes and gazed out at the water. “Perhaps I will.”

There was a bite in her voice that fit her tension, and startled Margaery. A distinct distance emitted from her suddenly. Different than those of the last days; that had been weary, distracted, now she appeared downright cold. Aloof even when Margaery still sat cuddled against her.

But now, Margaery also had an idea where it could stem from. After a year apart from Olin, this time was the first time that he didn’t cling to Sansa from the moment he saw her. Of course he had been looking forward to the arrival of his mama, for weeks, but he was reaching an age, where neither her nor Sansa were his entire world anymore. He spent time with his friends, had interests that didn’t and couldn’t involve them.

That after the year he had spent in Winterfell, where he and Sansa had been joined by the hip, came as a shock to Sansa was to be expected.

“You know you have no reason to be jealous of Gendry, right?”

Blue eyes turned to her with sharpness. “I don’t?”

Relieved to have at last gotten to the bottom of this, Margaery smiled and kissed stiff lips. “You will always be his favourite person in the whole word.”

The tension had still not left Sansa, her eyes flitted over Margaery’s, then she lowered her gaze. “Am I still yours too?”

“How can you even ask that?”

Sansa’s hand tightened its hold in hers, her eyes still lowered and her face unreadable. “It’s not just Olin whom Gendry spends a lot of time with, is it?”

For a moment all Margaery could do was stare at her and wonder if she heard right, understood the unspoken insinuation behind the question. Sansa was jealous indeed, but not for the fear that Gendry could replace her with Olin.

She couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled past her lips if she had tried. She didn’t even in herself to mad at Sansa’s implied accusation, simply because it was that ridiculous. Gendry was… even in her wildest imagination, even if Sansa didn’t occupy her every thought, she could not see herself thinking of him like that. Not to mention that he hardly managed a day without mentioning Arya.

“Please don’t laugh at me,” Sansa pleaded quietly, still not looking at her. “Olin told me how much time you spent with him. How often he’s having supper with the two of you. How often you are in your Solar alone. The servants are talking too.”

Margaery cupped Sansa’s face and forced her to look at her, set a firm reassuring kiss against her lips once she did. “That’s what has been weighing on you these last days, wasn’t it? Oh Sansa.” She smiled at her adoringly and leaned in for another kiss that Sansa averted.

“If it is all so laugh worthy, why didn’t you ever mention him in your letters?”

“I didn’t want to risk disappointing you.”

Sansa blinked in incomprehension.

“We are assessing if he can be a candidate to succeed me.” She took Sansa’s hands in hers and placed a kiss against her knuckles. “As Hand of the Queen.”

With understanding slowly dawning, Sansa’s features relaxed for the first time since she’d arrived, and at last she offered the normal appearance of her wife again. Not that sad, sulky shadow of her. Margaery couldn’t resist finding slightly agape lips in a sweet kiss.

“I’m sorry,” Sansa whispered, resting her forehead against Margaery’s.

Margaery shook her head and ran her hand through her hair, without pulling back. “It’s fine. I get it.”

“No it’s not,” Sansa said meekly. “I should have trusted you and not assume something so… I should have known better than to assume you would ever hurt me like that.”

“It’s all right,” Margaery promised. “I don’t know if my reaction would have been different if roles were reversed.”

Finding out that her wife had failed to mention someone she spent vast amounts of time with? That was deemed to have imagination going a little mad. Especially when for the majority of the year there was this forsaken distance between them, where they had only letters to rely on.

Margaery smirked. “If you recall, I wasn’t exactly thrilled when Yara Greyjoy was visiting Winterfell.”

Now Sansa chuckled too.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you,” Margaery went on. “I should have told you, but I didn’t want to get your hopes up, until I was sure.”

That had happened too many times. Over the years there had been several promising candidates, and she had written to Sansa in great detail about each of them. In the end when it inevitably turned out that they weren’t suitable it left both of them disappointed.

Hesitance and hope shimmered in Sansa’s eyes. “Are you sure now?”

Margaery pulled back, needed a little distance between them. “Not yet,” she said through a sigh. “He has a smart head on his shoulders. He has certainly grown into the role as Lord of Storm’s End and he knows the needs of the people in the city better than anyone we had considered before. That appeals to her grace especially.”

“That sounds promising,” Sansa voiced carefully.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Margaery felt that her smile was weak.

“What is it that you don’t like?”

“Only… his upbringing… he knows so little about politics, about diplomacy. There is so much that he will have to learn.”

“If you keep looking for a perfect duplicate of yourself, we’ll be separate for the next three decades.”

“I know.” Margaery sighed.

That she wanted to find someone to follow her who would fill the position in her sense was always the greatest problem. But Margaery didn’t consider it unreasonable. She was giving up the ability to form the realm in her sense, she needed to make sure that whoever came after her would not overturn all her achievements.

“You know I will always be biased because I want you with me,” Sansa mused through a smile. “Would you like to hear what I think still?”

Margaery found her lips in a quick kiss. “Always, my love.”

“I think the needs that the Hand of the Queen has to fulfil have changed since you took it. The realm, and the position of Daenerys have stabilized since then.” Sansa smiled. “Making her the most beloved queen, wasn’t that your mission? And that you have achieved, haven’t you? She’s most beloved among her subjects.”

Wistfulness filled Margaery at the memory Sansa evoked, still she nodded.

The words were clear, as what that what she had not said. She was not needed here at the same extent as she had been six years ago. Her talents didn’t not hold the same impact they had back then. Whomever followed her, did not need to fill the position exactly as she did. Perhaps, a change, a fresh set of eyes, as Gendry Baratheon could offer it, could even work to advance all the achievements she had made.

Had her reluctance to loosen her reigns more to do with herself, rather than was good for the realm? Perhaps.

“He’s a good candidate,” Margaery concluded at last. “The best we had in years.”

Sansa’s smile was the first really cheerful one in these last three days.

There it was again. That sense of hope, that frightened Margaery more than she could say, because she had disappointed it so many times in the past.

“But I need to be sure. As much as I want to be with you, I can’t just leave from one day to the next. Do you understand that?”

This time Sansa leaned in and kissed her. “You wouldn’t be the woman I loved if you could.”

“I’ll make good to my promise to you, Sansa,” Margaery vowed. “I swear.”

Sansa set an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “I’ve waited six years, I can wait a couple more. I know you’re worth the wait.”

#rfta cutting room floor #rfta

[bottleofspilledink]

God’s Watching, Put on a Show || Chapter XII

Eve arrived at school at exactly seven in the morning, a whole hour before class was supposed to start. She had gotten there in record time too, legs sore with how eager she was to leave the house.

You see, Eve had miscalculated her father’s arrival.

Severely.

Rather than arriving as she had slept, he walked through the door just in time for breakfast. Shirt crumpled, hair ruffled, a sated look in his brown eyes. He wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore. They were too tired for that. Yes, long gone was the happy couple trying to make it all work. In their place, the shell of who they once were, wilting husks with only overwhelming sadness and a want for temporary pleasure filling it.

Breakfast was somehow worse than dinner. Far from suffocating, she felt as if she were choking despite how well she chewed her serving of eggs. The dining room, already nowhere near welcoming before, seemed to taint everything in it, the sour mood permeating it seeping into her orange juice, making it taste as if it had gone bad weeks ago. (It hadn’t, though. She even helped her mother load groceries into the refrigerator. The juice had been there for no more than two days.)

Eve sat on that on a wooden courtyard bench, the very same one she sat on just eleven days ago, legs sore from how fast she pedaled, aching almost as much as she ached to get out of that horrid hou-

“Shut up.” Her mind echoed. It was painful, how hard she hard to try to stop herself from saying things she shouldn’t, from doing things she shouldn’t. “You should be grateful you even have a family. You know how people here feel about broken homes and single moms…”

“Eve!” Elizabeth came up from behind her, slender arms wrapping around her in a hug. She was in a good mood, giggling behind her manicured hands, cheeks tinted the signature pink of love – or simply infatuation. It was hard to tell, really, if your friend truly loved a man when you yourself were incapable of such things, try as she might, no matter how hard she forced herself to.

Nothing came of it. Nothing would ever come of it.

“So, I’m assuming you had a fun night?”

Just because Eve didn’t understand what was so thrilling about kissing boys and all that came after it, didn’t mean she wouldn’t listen to Elizabeth’s excited ramblings of it. She knew what was expected of her. One day, hopefully not one day soon, she would find a boy she could tolerate, a decent one she would at least come to love as a friend; she would marry him and lie with him, as a good wife does and bear his children.

And she would tolerate it.

Just because she was like Lilith, didn’t mean she had to act like her, didn’t mean she had to act on what she felt for her.

“Not just a night!” Elizabeth’s dark eyes twinkled, gesturing wildly and almost obscenely with her hands. “I was with him every night during the weekend and Monday night. I got Mary to vouch for me so we could go out.”

“Out?”

The brunette nodded, clearly deliberate in stating that they went out in order to say: “He just got his driver’s license so we went out on his motorcycle to celebrate!”

“Motorcycle?” Eve perked up, pleasantly surprised her friend wasn’t here to brag about her sex life and the fact that Zachariah could drive. (Really, the last thing she needed was a detailed description of a blowjob, especially considering that her breakfast wasn’t sitting right with her, though that may just be her lingering dread speaking.)

“Yup! Since he’ll be on a scholarship for college next year, he convinced his parents to let him use the money they set aside for it to buy a bike.”

She went on about the boy and the places he’d taken her, a genuine joy in her every motion, in her every word, excitement clear to all who would lay eyes on her.

Oh, Eve could feel her happiness, potent, so close yet completely unattainable to the likes of her. That wasn’t a new realization, not by any means, no, but God, it was different this time; a bitter bile rising in her, leaving the taste of acid and envy and a sorrow not unlike that of resignment, of loss.

But between Elizabeth’s giggles and how nice the boy seemed to be, the taste would soon fade into a sweet sugar cookie sort of fondness.

Only a hint of that resignment remained, a tangy, rotten after taste.

...

Unlike the first day of their newly implemented schedule, today was not so tense.

Rather, the two girls sat next to each other, not even a ruler’s length apart, not tense but tenuous both of them lost in a labyrinth of thoughts and drowning in a sea of emotions either too scary to name or too muddled to be sure of, everything mixing and melding and melting like a soup with a certain ingredient you couldn’t quite place.

The memory of yesterday was burned into their minds, playing again and again on an endless loop for reasons they dare not say, the same words spoken and heard from slightly different perspectives with slightly different thoughts accompanying it.

For Lilith, yesterday was a sign of hope for Eve. She was willing to disobey, allowing herself the occasional indulgence with a bit of coaxing. All Eve needed was a nudge, a gentle push in the right direction. The redhead could imagine it quite vividly, the girl standing before her mother, letting lies slip from her lips, pretending to have been forced into a place of opposition she so evidently wanted to be in. Eve hadn’t even tried to hide the fact that her mother was the only thing keeping her from the club, either too tired to make up an excuse or just feeling comfortable enough to open up about it to her.

For Eve, yesterday was the end of playing dumb, the end of turning a blind eye to her own desires and the undeniable humanity of people… like Lilith. She could hardly believe all that had happened despite it being so clear in her head. Between what see had seen in the locker room and what had happened over lunch and the things she’d willingly done during club time… it was all too much.

Yesterday was the end of life as she knew it. Or rather, it was the beginning of the end.

After all, progress took time and it was by no means linear. Especially not during matters of this nature.

“So what did your mom say?” Lilith said. She was trying to separate what she felt for that woman from her voice, and she was doing well, disdain for her considered. Really, fussing over every little detail of her daughter was one thing but the fact that the concern she displayed was not for said daughter but for her future husband was something she couldn’t forgive. Still, she kept her language plain and her tone neutral. Most people didn’t take kindly to other’s insulting their mothers.

“Oh, I haven’t told her.” The way Eve’s voice trembled when she said that “oh” sent arrows through her heart, the dread palpable and utterly unnerving. “She hasn’t asked yet and I didn’t have a good time to bring it up so I’ll just wait for her to say something. Maybe she’s assuming I joined the book club again?”

A lie by omission was better than an outright one but it was a lie nonetheless and the guilt of it didn’t do much to ease the girl’s tension, though the fact that she would be able to avoid that conversation for a while longer did.

“Speaking of books,” Lilith coughed, deciding to change the topic before Eve withdrew into her mind “what did you guys do in that club? Just read all day and discuss books? Is there even anything good in that library?”

“Well, most of it is theology and reference books, yeah, but those can be good! There are a few volumes of Sherlock Holmes near the history section! It’s not a complete collection at all but definitely better than nothing.”

She could already feel the dopey grin making it’s way onto her face. In the short amount of time they’ve known each other, Lilith would be hard pressed to find a time Eve had been this happy about anything. Unbridled joy was a good look on everyone. The gleam in their eyes that only came from a genuine liking for something, the way they’d gesticulate, unable to contain all their passion.

Granted, Eve didn’t gesture so much as flap her hands about, but while joy looked good on everyone, it also looked different in everyone and Lilith found this eccentricity of hers adorable to no small degree.

“They have Phantom of the Opera tucked away somewhere near this compilation of Edgar Allan Poe I’ve been able to read a few times. A bit macabre but still good! Oh, you know they have books on gardening, too! I can show you next time we go and you can check out one or two if you want! The ones on herbs was fun but I think you’ll find the one on flower language an interesting read. It’s not exactly about gardening, but still. Did you know that the way you tied a bouquet could completely change the meaning of all the flowers you were trying to send?”

She spoke in a mix of short, rapid-fire sentences and long-winded rants, switching with no real pattern, rambling and occasionally straying to go on a tangent about a specific book or mention something about gardening, none of which Lilith understood, being unable to name any flowers by appearance other than rose, daisy, and sunflower, though she listened eagerly nonetheless.

“But back to books! Near the back, just by the cookbook – oh, and um, don’t tell anyone but –” Eve scooted her wooden chair across the wooden floor, mindlessly brushing Lilith’s hair back, placing her lip just two centimeters scant of her ear. “There are books hidden there, by older girls, I think. Ones that graduated a really long time ago.”

Eve’s ivory-like hands cupped the small space around Lilith’s ear, shielding their words from any listening ears, anything that happened behind her hands hidden from prying eyes. In the midst of her whispering, she realized she could kiss Lilith; a gentle peck on the shell of her ear. No one needed to know. Just a quick press of the lips, it wouldn’t take longer than a second… or two.

And though she ignored the impulse, the thought lingered.

“Love poems and romance novels. I’m pretty sure they wrote it all themselves. Two of them are just a bunch of papers with holes punched in the side tied together by string, no cover. Technically more manuscript than book but you know what I mean. The others are leather bound journals, hand-written.”

“No kidding?” The other asked, hushed, nothing anyone further than Eve would catch. She didn’t dare say it louder, both unwilling to let anyone eavesdrop on them and scared that the excessive movement of her jaw would lead Eve farther from her.

“Nope, they’re there.” She pulled away from the girl’s ear but didn’t bother to move her seat back to where it was, their legs pressed together beneath the table they shared. “I haven’t been able to read much of any of them cause I’m scared I’ll get too absorbed to notice anyone walking past but their poems are really good! I can show you sometime, along with the gardening books.”

“We can go there later, during lunch. I’ll keep watch for while you read.”

The offer turned the girl’s waning grin into a megawatt smile, dimpled and rosy cheeked, she looked like a Raphaelite painting, a masterpiece.

“Really?”

“Sure! I’m always up for a bit of casual disobedience.” She replied with a wink and a deep chuckle, using amusement as a cover for endearment.

“Holy cow, thank you so much! But I’m pretty sure we’re not actually breaking any rules, I–”

Smack!

“Everyone bring out your composition notebook! We’re going to use the rest of homeroom to learn how to read sheet music before proceeding to the music room so if you want to fool around on the piano you’d best master this quickly.”

With that, Eve jerked away from Lilith, bringing her chair along with her and causing a loud, grating noise to make it’s way through the now silent room, every head whipping around to face them, the eyes now bearing into them, mostly shocked, some irritated, with one judgmental look from the front, from Sister Bernadette.

“No movement of chairs unless otherwise stated!”

“But-”

“Put the seat back where it was immediately or get detention!”

Lilith then pulled the girl down into her seat, cutting off another protest and brought the seat back to where it was before the nun entered, effectively ridding all the space between them.

Only when the woman turned to face the blackboard did she whisper to Eve: “Don’t argue, even if they’re wrong. They’ll just call it disrespectful and send you to the principal’s.”

“Oh… I’m sorry, I’m just not used to getting yelled at here so I wasn’t sure about– I didn’t know what to do. Sorry, again…”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” She gave the blonde a teasing jab along with a soft smile, looking at the girl only from the corner of her sky blue eye so as not to invoke the further ire of the clearly on-edge teacher. “’Sides, the jokes on them. They’re still wrong and we get to stay like this. That’s a win-win if I’ve ever seen one, yeah?”

Eve huffed, a small laugh, in part a sort of thanks for the given consolation, in part a sort of reassurance to the other that she’d be okay, that she’d bounce back.

“Yeah.”

In the end, they weren’t able to go to the music room.

...

The hours passed, only a few words passing between the girls every so often, most of it questions related to the work they were assigned. They were careful, Eve unwilling to anger any other authority figures, Lilith trying to fly under the radar, admittedly rather afraid of being called into Mother Cecilia’s office over even trivial matters, knowing it would lead to yet another interrogation regarding the fire.

But finally, the lunch bell rang, granting them freedom and the ability to be enthusiastic without repercussion. (As long as they weren’t too noisy, of course.) All the anticipation and excitement led to Eve shooting out of her chair and practically sprinting to the library, books shoved haphazardly into her book bag as Lilith followed not too far behind her, pleasantly surprised at her actions, though with more emphasis on the pleasant and not so much on the surprised.

“It’s right this way,” The blonde said, not bothering to drop her bag down in her usual seat as they ventured deeper into the library.

Eventually, they reached the deepest, mustiest park of the library, all the shelves covered in a thin sheen of dust save for a single row level with their knees. The sun streaming in from the arching windows only served to accentuate how unkempt the place was, illuminating the dust particles that flew into the air when Eve took to her knees to retrieve the books she spoke so eagerly about.

“The last time I’ve been able to peek at them was a few weeks before summer, so sorry for the dust. You’re not asthmatic, right?” She pulled out a few of the recipe books, setting them aside before reaching in deeper to grab a stack of papers, bound with string, it’s outer most page containing nothing more than a title and a name. Sticking her arm in a bit more, she pulled out two leather journals, putting them down atop the manuscript before taking a few more cookbooks from the shelf and grabbing the last journal along with manuscript type book.

“Nah, I’ll be fine.”

Lilith crouched down next to her, looking at the stack Eve made. The paper ones were practically identical save for a difference in thickness while the leather-bound books varied in colour, one the usual coffee brown, the other a matte black, and the last one a fine, wine-red.

“So, how’d you find all this anyway?” The redhead asked, taking the brown book from the stack, flicking through a random page and instantly regretting it as a cloud of dust came from it, resulting in a rather violent coughing fit, Eve rushing to her and patting her back as her lungs tried to expel themselves through her mouth.

“Are you sure you’re not asthmatic?”

“Eve, I’m not sure how to break it to you, but anyone that gets hit with a face-full of dust is gonna cough a bit. I’ll live.”

“Good point.” She reached over to her bag and took a tumbler from it. “Water?”

Lilith’s fingers brushed against Eve’s as the dark green bottle switched hands, reminiscent of the brief touch they shared the first time they met, on that fateful, windy day in the courtyard.

“Thanks.”

There were a handful of things she expected to happen today, things she prepared an appropriate response for. Watching Lilith gulp down water like a dying man, seeing her throat work with every sip, eyes following the stray drops that rolled down her chin and her neck, making it’s way to the opening of her shirt before finally stopping, absorbed by the fabric that now clung to parts of her chest, was evidently not one of those things.

“T-thanks to you, too… Lilith.”

The girl in question merely raised an eyebrow and snorted.

“If you wanted to start with this book, you could’ve just said so.”

Lilith passed the book she was holding to her, instead grabbing the red one and holding it out an arm’s length away and flapping it about, effectively getting most of the dust out.

They settled into a comfortable silence after that, content to exist in the same space, unburdened by the unspoken as they read. Sock-clad legs parallel to each other, pressed flush against the flesh, they looked so similar to how they did yesterday, this morning.

Lighter, though. Somehow.

Perhaps it was the lack of looming dread, the weight of anxiety gone from Eve’s mind, for now at least. Perhaps it was the lack of fear, Lilith’s worry for Eve gone, again, if only for now.

...

As Eve went on, she became enamored by the prose, the delicate descriptions crafted from simple every day life and feelings, invested by the admittedly somewhat familiar protagonist, Nina, and her best friend, Rosalie, or as Nina would so fondly call her, Rosie.

Bit by bit, though, things were changing between them. Or maybe they haven’t changed at all and she was just blind to it. Either way though, things became different, odd, queer.

“I carded my hands through her soft, black hair just like I had so many times before. “Will you braid it for me?” She asked, lifting her head from off my lap, resting on her elbows. Not quite lying down, not quite sitting up.”

She couldn’t help but think that the first sentence implied something.

“Rosalie would get her blazer dirty, stomach pressed into the grass as she traced patterns on my lap, the fabric of my skirt shifting, spiraling. “Of course,” I couldn’t say no if I wanted to, but why would I even consider refusing her?”

The way Nina spoke about Rosalie, the way Rosalie spoke to her in turn, the affection they showed to each other, the way she would describe Rosalie in text was akin to that of love… romantic love.

Eve brushed the thoughts aside though, knowing she was probably just projecting her own perversions on the perfectly normal, heterosexual girls.

“We sat there and spoke of the future, a house deep in the woods, an aged, fat cat. Preferably a tabby. I plucked flowers, giving them a new home with her as I wove it into the braid. Call me sacrilegious but she looked like a God, of-the-earth, of me. She was my God. I’d get in trouble if I ever said that out loud. But then again, I’d get in trouble for practically everything I did with Rosie”

Alright, maybe it wasn’t just Eve.

“After finishing the braid, I took a compact mirror from my pocket. “What do you think?” She giggled, deep, brown eyes looking around at the empty field before shimmying over to me, laying a gentle kiss on my cheek. “It’s lovely. You’re lovely.” She moved once more, settling on my lap, lips trailing across my forehead, my eye, my nose, my cheek. Tease. At long last, though, her lips met mine, pressing against me with a soft passion-”

She dropped the book, hands by her head as a sort of surrender to whatever god may be watching her, judging her, face flushed, chest heaving.

Lilith looked up from her book. “You okay?”

She read that. She enjoyed that.

That knowledge was the straw that broke the camel’s still recovering back.

The guilt from yesterday and everyday before that built up in her lungs, drowning her, hastening her hellish damnation. Her thoughts were consumed by apologies and prayers and pleas for a mercy she wasn’t deserving of.

Tears fell from her face like angels from the sky, a testament to her sins, her guilt.

Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. Suffocating, stifling, sinful guilt.

Crashing down on her as if she was being smitten, painful and shameful and rightful guilt.

She sobbed and shook, hands over her mouth to stop herself from wailing her anguish, her agony, her guilt.

But a pair hands weren’t enough to contain everything in her and all that spilled out. Nothing was.

Whimpers escaped through the gaps of her fingers, Lilith forgetting her shock and rushing over to comfort her.

It only made her cry harder. Lilith’s touch burned.

Eve clung to her though, rising to her knees, hands clutching at Lilith’s shirt.

It was yesterday all over again.

It was worse.

She couldn’t deny what she was anymore. Every passing second made it harder to craft lies and alibis and that would be a sin too and she’d go to hell regardless.

Burying her face in the crook of Lilith’s neck in a futile attempt to silence herself, Eve could smell the sweet, apple cinnamon perfume the girl had sprayed on earlier.

The way the scent made her face flush, even with everything going on and everything she was feeling was sick.

It twisted her stomach.

She felt disgusting, sinful, wrong, guilty.

But as she sobbed and shuddered and breathed the scent in…

It twisted her stomach.

Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.

...

“It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay, Eve.” She whispered, soft, the words meant for one person and one person only.

Lilith wasn’t a naturally soothing person. Never in her life did she have to console someone in such a way, her friends all preferring to be distracted from their sorrows by quips and jokes. This was different, though. Eve was different.

Eve made her soft and kind to a degree she could hardly fathom. Gone was her icy exterior and harsh features, traded in for a comforting smile and gentle hands.

The girl sobbed and prayed into her shoulder, unable to hear her over muttered prayers and the sound of her own heartbeat, a frantic thump in her heaving chest.

From an outsider’s point of view, it would look like Eve was the one doing the comforting, seeming to pray over Lilith in a manner akin to that to someone being exorcised, a two-person prayer circle.

“Eve,” She whispered, gently trying to pry the girl away from her so she could talk, immediately stopping when the blonde only cried harder at the gesture. “I’m gonna need you to take deep breaths, Eve. Can you do that for me, please?”

The girl hiccupped, body wracked by sobs though clearly trying to follow.

“That’s right, just like that.”

Lilith’s spindly hands made her way up and down Eve’s back in tranquil motions.

“Wanna tell me what’s making you cry? I won’t tell anyone not even Paula and Joan.”

Eve shook her head, not even lifting her head from the crook of Lilith’s neck, her tip of her nose drawing a line from where her neck sloped down to her shoulders.

“Are you sure?”

“Yea-ah…”

Breathing still ragged, eyes still red-rimmed, cheeks still tear-stained, she pulled away from Lilith, sniveling.

“I’m s-sorry, I don’t know why I’m even crying-”

She cut the blonde off, though. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. But please don’t lie to me. You know why you’re crying. I’m not gonna make you talk about it, but you know.”

“Okay.” Eve whispered, a sort of willing surrender.

It was evident to Lilith that she wanted to talk. Shame held her back, unfortunate and burdensome. She didn’t speak, instead picking up the book from where it fell, opening to the page she had last read, finger tapping the paragraph before sliding the book across the small gap between them.

She skimmed over the paragraph and a few thereafter, finding nothing of note until she finally saw what Eve meant.

“This is what you were crying over?”

All she got in response was a nod, the girl looking to be on the brink of tears again.

“Why?”

Eve shook her head again. Her lip trembled, jutting out like a child trying their best not to cry.

“If I guess right will you tell me?”

Nothing.

“Want me to stop?”

Again, there was no reply.

“Can you tell me what you want me to do?”

A shrug of the shoulders. Nothing else.

“Do you know what you want me to do?”

She shook her head no, a few tears going with it. The only thing that left her mouth was a shaky sigh as she carded her hands through her hair. Tired. Eve looked tired. She was all that and more.

Lilith looked away from her, the pity she felt too much. There was nothing she could do. If only for a moment, she felt the degree of helplessness Eve felt, knowing she couldn’t help. It wasn’t foreign to her, helplessness. It was like seeing an old friend.

She could never bring herself to be angry or even annoyed at what was happening to Eve. Not when it’s happened to her, to Paula, to Joan, to Julia, to Colette.

Lost in thought, she was snapped back to reality as Eve dragged her closer, making her face away as the girl hugged her from behind.

Eve cried into her. It wasn’t the way she cried mere minutes ago, however. It was calmer, no hiccups or shaking. Only tears streaming down the girl’s face and soaking into Lilith’s shirt with a sniffle every once and a while.

Time passed and Lilith grew bolder, hand wandering to where Eve’s were wrapped around her stomach. Her touch was tentative, Eve’s hand treated like a fine porcelain piece.

“Is this okay?”

“No.” She said.

But she didn’t push Lilith’s away, instead opting to hold it, their fingers weaving together, slotting together as if their very flesh and bone were sculpted to be together, to intertwine, to love.

How cruel of God to craft two people for each other the turn to create a world were they were not to be.

“None of this is okay.”

______________________

Taglist: @anomiewrites @leahstypewriter @madame-ree @melpomenismask @littlemisscalamity @phillyinthebathroom @gaypeaches @extrabitterbrain @pirateofblood @i-wanna-be-a-rock

#Lilith and Eve #my writing #writing #writer #writers #writers of tumblr #writeblr #books #books and libraries #pride #gay pride #lesbian pride #wlw pride #lgbt #religious imagery #religion #christianity #religion tw #christianity tw #tw religion #tw christianity #religious trauma #literature #gay literature #lesbian literature #sapphic literature #wlw romance #lesbian romance #gay romance #romance

[justahopelessssromantic]

Yesterday: Two

A/N: Hey guys here’s an update for Yesterday for you. Sorry I haven’t posted in a while. As I suspected work has been kicking my ass and on top of that I had some family I haven’t seen very often come to visit so it has all just been a little crazy and busy. I hope you all enjoy and have a safe and pleasant weekend ❤️

Thank you so much @carlaangel86 for making this beautiful collage for my story 💖 I appreciate it and you so very much 😘

Word Count: 4912

Angel watched as Juliet sipped the tomato soup from her spoon. She was really here, right in front of him. It was almost like he was afraid to look away, that if he turned his back for one second she’d be gone again. He just couldn’t stop staring at her, watching her every move. He was never going to take a moment with her for granted again.

“You’re making me nervous.” Juliet said looking up from her bowl. Ever since Angel picked her up from the hospital his eyes had been on her.

“Sorry, I just, I can’t believe it’s really you.” Two years had gone by where they were parted. So much time gone that they would never get back. Angel was still trying to wrap his mind around it all.

For Angel he had been apart from his wife for two years. For Juliet it was merely a few hours. Whatever happened to her was a mystery to both her and Angel. The doctor said with the trauma she must have experienced plus the fall it was all normal for her to block out the time. He advised Angel to be gentle and patient with her. In time she’d get her memory back.

Juliet was trying to come to terms with her situation herself. It was hard for her to comprehend how she had lost so much time. One moment she was on her way home from picking up a couple of steaks from Felipe for their anniversary dinner and then she was waking up in the hospital in fucking Arizona over two years later. To say she was confused would be an understatement.

Juliet self consciously pulled her sleeves down her arms making sure she was as covered as possible. She didn’t like being uncomfortable in her own body but right now she didn’t even recognize herself. She was noticeably thinner, her skin covered with unfamiliar scars and markings and her hair longer than she remembered. Everything was so different, especially herself. She didn’t even know who she was anymore.

She tried to remember, she really did, but every time she did her head would start hurting.

“It’s really me.” Or at least she thought it was. She gave him a half smile. Angel reached across the table taking her hand in his. Her eyes flicked down to her bare ring finger. “I’m sorry. I must have lost my ring.”

“Don’t worry about it Jules. We’ll get you another one.” All that shit didn’t matter to Angel. All that mattered was his wife was here right in front of him, touching him, talking to him. She was here and he was never letting go.

Sure they could get another one but she didn’t want a different one. She wanted the one Angel slipped so delicately onto her finger after their vows. The silver band she’d look down at whenever she was missing Angel. The one that was engraved. She wanted the ring she imagined herself wearing for the rest of her life. The one she would never take off.

“Jules,” Angel snapped his fingers in front of her face, pulling her back out of her thoughts. “Are you feeling okay? Are you getting a headache? Do you need anything?” Angel rattled question after question.

“Angel, I’m fine!” She snapped immediately regretting it as she watched his face fall. She felt terrible. “Shit, I’m sorry.” Juliet pulled her hand away from Angel’s burying her face in her hands. She tried to steady her breathing, keeping the tears away. She knew he meant well. Everything was just still so raw. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Her voice was muffled through her hands.

Angel stood up carefully reaching out to put his hand on her back. He noticed how she flinched when he first touched her before she settled to his touch. He rubbed circles across her back trying to comfort her. “I know. It’s not your fault.” Angel was trying to keep his own frustrations down not wanting to add to it. He had so many questions he wanted answers to, questions only she had the answers to if only she remembered.

His wife was here but she wasn’t the same person she was two years ago. Even without her memories she was changed. How could she not be?

Juliet took a deep breath pulling her hands away from her face to peek at Angel. “I’m sorry we fought.” There was so much she wanted to say to him. So much that was still so raw for her even if it had faded for Angel. He had two years to move on and she didn’t. “I promise I was going to talk to you.”

Angel crouched down next to her pulling her hands back into his, giving the backs of them a kiss. He knew what fight she was talking about. The day before she disappeared he had found her birth control. He knew the failed attempts at conceiving were hard on Juliet, they were hard on him too but finding the pills crushed him. He wasn’t ready to give up and she was.

Angel met Juliet walking down the walkway of the school with her two coworkers Charles and Heather. They were discussing the coming up Thanksgiving play the children would be putting on next month. There was so much to plan between costumes, props, and set up.

Juliet caught Angel coming her way. He did not look pleased which worried her. She knew that look. Whatever was to follow was not going to be good. She excused herself from the conversation meeting him halfway as he grabbed her arm and led her around the building. “Angel, what’s going on?” She asked him, reaching out to touch his face.

He pulled his face back gaining a frown from Juliet. Grabbing the little pill pack from his pocket he shoved it at her. “What the hell is this?”

Juliet sighed, looking at the birth control now in her hands. “Angel I promise I can explain.”

“Have you been taking these? Is that why we aren’t getting pregnant?” The hurt in his voice pierced straight through Juliet. She knew Angel would be upset which was why she was really hoping to talk to him before he found them.

“Of course not.” Juliet replied, her voice hushed. She hadn’t taken a single pill since they decided to try for a baby. She was just tired of all the disappointment. She got a refill because she was thinking about going back on but she would never do so without talking to Angel first.

“Then why the fuck do you have it?” Angel was livid and heartbroken. There was nothing more in this world he wanted besides having a child with Juliet. How could she be ready to throw the towel in already?

“Can we please just talk about this tonight?” Juliet pleaded with Angel. She hated when people would butt into her business and there were plenty of people around this town and more specifically her workplace that loved the gossip.

“I know Jules and you did, remember?” Angel asked cautiously. He wasn't sure how much of before she disappeared she remembered. “We made up by the end of night.”

“Yeah,” she gave him a small smile. She remembered they talked it out that night getting rid of the pills. She had just gotten the prescription filled that day and was going to start taking them again but couldn’t bring herself too until she spoke to Angel. He just unfortunately found them first. She didn’t really want to give up on the hope to have a family with Angel, she was just tired and heartbroken. It felt like the universe was against her getting pregnant again. Like she was being punished for her past.

“And if I remember correctly we had some great fucking make up sex right here.” Angel smirked, setting his hand on the table. “I was almost certain that if any time was going to knock you up it would have been then.” Angel spoke before realizing what he had said.

They never got to find out because then she vanished.

“I don’t suppose we’re going to keep trying now.” Juliet stared at her small hand in his. She was still wanting to have a family with him. They were trying, were going to have a nice anniversary, get away but now that wasn’t happening. It wasn’t even their anniversary anymore.

“You know I want nothing more than to have you pregnant with my child, to watch you grow together, to raise a family with you but I think right now at least until you find your footing again we should press pause.” Right now he just wanted to cherish having her home. To make sure she was in a good place before they added the stress of trying to conceive again.

All that mattered was her.

Angel woke later that night in a sweat. That was a common occurrence for him. He hadn’t slept soundly through the night without a nightmare since Juliet disappeared. Reaching out to wrap his arm around Juliet for comfort he frowned, his arms coming up empty. He patted her side of the bed not feeling anything there either and that’s when the panic really set in. Sitting up he turned the bedside lamp on looking over at the empty place beside him. His breathing was hard and shaky as his heart raced.

She was gone.

She was gone again or maybe it was all just one sick cruel dream. To have the love of his life back in his arms just to have her ripped from them once more.

No she was here. He spoke to her, touched her. She was back and now she was gone.

Angel got out of bed trying to ease his oncoming panic attack. She could be in the bathroom or the kitchen or living room. She could be anywhere in the house. Just because she wasn’t in bed didn’t mean she was gone. At least that is what he was trying to convince himself.

He made his way out to the living room. He ran his eyes across the room. Everything looked just how he had left it.

That didn’t bring him any comfort. If anything it made him feel worse.

It was exactly like that night.

Still he tried to remain calm, or as calm as he could. He walked into the kitchen wondering if maybe she had gotten up for a drink or a snack or anything else but he found the room dark and vacant as well. It was from there that he could see the faint light peeking out from under the door down the hall.

He let out the breath he wasn't even aware he was holding. It was the laundry room. Of course she would be in the laundry room. He wasn't exactly sure how it happened but that room had become their safe space, their get away when family would come over and it would all be too much.

It was just another place that maybe didn't seem special to an outsider but to them if held much more.

Angel made his way down the hall and slowly opened the door. Sure enough there she was sitting on the floor with a bag of marshmallows.

She looked up from her snack, swallowing the mouthful before giving him a small smile.

"There you are. Couldn't sleep?" Angel asked her leaning against the door frame.

"No." Juliet admitted. She was exhausted but couldn’t get her mind to quiet down. Juliet didn't want to wake Angel so she had slipped out of bed to come here.

She was trying desperately to remember anything at all but she just kept coming up blank. She knew she wasn't supposed to force it but losing so much time it was hard for her not to.

At least she had Angel. She was so thankful for him. He had been nothing but patient and understanding with her.  

It was her first night back. Angel knew it would be an adjustment. Stepping into the room he opened the closet pulling out a couple of spare pillows and blankets. If she wasn't able to sleep in bed then at least they could be together in here. He handed a pillow to her and laid the other one beside her before crouching down and settling down with her. He covered them with a blanket and wrapped his arm around her bringing her close.

"Marshmallow?" Juliet offered holding the bag up to him.

Angel took one plopping it into his mouth. “You have the diet of a toddler.” Angel teased taking another marshmallow.

Juliet smiled, not a full one but a smile at least. “At least I don’t live off beer.” She teased back laying her head against his chest.

Juliet felt Angel’s chest move with his chuckle. She snuggled in closer enjoying his warmth. They lay there together just holding one another enjoying the other. Juliet listened to Angel’s heartbeat focusing on the soothing rhythm as he ran his fingers up and down her arm.

It didn't take long before Angel lulled her to sleep. He could tell she was finally out by how her breathing evened out. He kept running his fingers up and down her arm just enjoying having her here, her weight against him was the best feeling in the world. He always loved and cherished her before but losing her like he did just made him appreciate this second chance so much more.

A few days had gone by with Angel and Juliet readjusting to their new normal. Angel was doing everything he could to make her comfortable not pushing her in any way.

Angel was being patient but he was still getting frustrated. She wouldn't let him see her in anything less than her street clothes. She wouldn't even let him in the bathroom while she was getting ready. She didn't want him to see her which only made him wonder what she was hiding.

Did she think he wouldn't like the way she looked anymore? That he wouldn't want her? He knew she was thinner which bothered her but to him that was nothing. He loved her and would love her no matter how she looked.

He just wanted her to feel comfortable with him again.

“Hey,” Angel said, peeking his head into their bedroom. Juliet had been resting in their bedroom after she had started feeling a headache coming on.

Juliet looked up from where her head was resting on his pillow. She was in a pair of leggings and one of Angel’s long sleeve shirts, her favorite things to wear right now. Angel smiled, still not fully believing that she was really home and alive.

Maybe this was all just a dream, maybe he finally lost his mind, or maybe he was fucking dead. Whatever the case he wasn’t going to question it. His love had returned to him, that was good enough for him.

“Hey,” She smiled back sitting up.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling much better.” Thankfully resting with some medicine managed her headache smoothly.

“Good.” Angel shut the door behind him coming to sit next to her. He rested his hand on her thigh. “Do you think you’re up for some company? Gwen’s here.”

Gwen had just arrived with Serena. They were waiting out in the living room with EZ. Juliet had asked about them earlier and Angel showed her some pictures of Serena to try to lighten the blow of seeing her much more grown than she remembered. He knew the missed time with Serena would be one of the hardest for her.

They both adored Serena. She was important to both of them. They helped raise her.

Juliet perked up at this and climbed off their king bed quickly slipping her feet into her slippers. She couldn’t wait to see her best friend and Serena. Angel reached out grabbing her arm spinning her back around to him. “Are you sure you’re ready?” He asked.

Juliet wanted nothing more than to see Gwen and Serena. Seeing the pictures of Serena came with a little bit of a shock and the feeling of regret for having missed so many moments in her life. Juliet didn’t want to waste another second with those she loved most. She already missed enough time. “I’m ready.”

Angel gave her hand a squeeze. He led her out of the bedroom and to the living room where they were all waiting for them. Gwen immediately stood up from her place on the couch rushing over to Juliet and pulling her into a hug. Angel released Juliet’s hand so she could wrap her arms around Gwen too.

“I missed you so much,” Gwen sobbed into Juliet. Gwen and Juliet were more than just best friends, they were sisters. Neither one of them ever had a friend like the other. They had been inseparable until James showed up and when Juliet came back to Gwen they picked up right where they left off. Losing Juliet was one of the hardest things for Gwen.

Juliet held onto Gwen holding onto the back of her shirt. She cried herself, everything building up finally breaking her. She couldn’t relate to the pain of what everyone else went through but she had plenty of her own. They held each other for the longest time not wanting to let go until the tears had settled.

Gwen pulled away first, wiping her eyes. “I’m so happy you are home.”

Serena slid off the couch herself coming up to her mother. “Mama why are you crying?” Serena asked, hugging Gwen’s legs.

“It’s okay baby. They are just happy tears.” Gwen explained smoothing Serena’s hair down. “I’m just so happy Auntie Juliet is home. Remember Mama told you all about her.”

Juliet looked down at Serena. The tears streamed down her face as she looked at her beautiful goddaughter. The pictures helped some but it was so different seeing her here in person. She was so grown and looked so much like Gwen. She was beautiful.

“Mama said you had to go away for a while,” Serena said to Juliet. “But now you’re back. Where did you go?”

Gwen gave Juliet an apologetic look. Juliet wiped the tears off her face leaning down and smiling at Serena. “You know I don’t really remember but all that matters is I’m back now and I can’t wait to hear everything I missed.”

Serena’s face lit up as she thought about all the things she could tell her Auntie Juliet. “I can tell you everything!”

Serena grabbed Juliet’s hand, taking her to the couch excitedly. Juliet laughed looking back at Angel who was smiling at them before turning her attention back to Serena to listen to all of the young girl’s stories.

Angel flipped the steaks on the grill. They were now all outside. The girl’s were catching up as they watched Serena play in the sprinklers while Angel and EZ prepared the food.  

EZ nursed his beer watching Angel as he would keep looking back at Juliet. “How are you holding up?” EZ asked him.

“Me?” Angel asked, stealing a glance at EZ before turning his attention back to the food. “I fucking feel like I’m dreaming. Like if I blink or turn my back on her she’ll be gone again.”

EZ nodded. He understood where Angel was coming from. After all he had been through the last two years it was only natural that he would have that fear. “Has she remembered anything or talked about it?”

Angel shook his head. “No, she hasn’t remembered anything and she hasn’t really said much.”

“How is she doing?”

“I’m not sure. She’s adjusting you know?” Angel took the steaks off the grill setting them on the plate. “She’s still trying to wrap her mind around losing so much time. I just wish I knew how to help her.”

EZ patted Angel’s shoulder giving it a squeeze. He could only imagine what his brother was going through. “I know it’s not the same but after being on the inside all that time you know what the hardest part about getting out was?”

Angel shook his head.

“Coming out and trying to catch up with the outside world. Life went on out here without me. That was the hardest adjustment.” EZ explained. It was a rude awakening to come out and see how everyone had moved on with their lives while he was still stuck living in the past thinking about how his life should have been if things were different. “You can’t give her her memories back but you can help her with everything she missed here. You need to tell her everything, the good and the bad. She deserves to know it all. I think that could help.”

Angel watched as Juliet played with Serena and her stuffed dolfin after dinner. She was smiling so full of life as she looked up and over at him in the kitchen. Her smile only grew as her eyes met his. Angel smiled back lovingly watching the two of them together.

Juliet was going to be an amazing mother one day.

“It’s so crazy.” Gwen said, coming up beside Angel. She watched Juliet and her daughter with him. “I can’t believe she is really here.”

“Me neither.” Angel leaned back against the counter. “There’s so much she’s missed. I know that’s bothering her the most right now. Maybe even more so than not knowing what happened to her.”

Juliet had expressed to him how weird it felt for her to have missed so much time. How awful it felt for her to know she missed so many moments with friends and family. She had already missed plenty during her relationship with James after he had isolated her from those she loved.

“I know what fucking happened to her.” Gwen said looking at her best friend. “This was James.” She knew how obsessed James was with Juliet. It killed him when Juliet finally walked away from him. He would do anything to have her all to himself. Gwen was certain he was the one behind Juliet’s disappearance. “If that motherfucker shows his face around here I swear to god I will kill him.”

They didn't know for sure but Angel always suspected James had something to do with her disappearance. He even confronted him but got nowhere. “Yeah and somehow he always came out clean.” Angel muttered. The cops had looked into James as well and found no leads. James was a dead end.

James would never fully be off Angel’s suspect list no matter how clean he appeared. James had hurt Juliet before, there was nothing stopping him from doing it again. Next time Angel saw James he wouldn’t hesitate to put him six feet under regardless if it was him who did this to her or not. He had enough sins to pay for to justify it. “If you want to kill him you’ll have to get in line.”

And that line was a long one.

Gwen was happy Juliet and Angel got together. The guy’s would often frequent the bar she worked at and now owned. When Juliet came to stay with her she helped out at the bar. That’s when Angel first noticed her. It took some time to get past Gwen. She was very protective of her best friend especially after James fucked with her. Gwen knew Angel was a good guy though and after one good threat that if he ever hurt Juliet she’d rip his balls off and shove them down his throat she finally decided that Angel could approach Juliet.

From there the rest was history.

Gwen watched as Juliet tickled Serena, the two’s giggles filling the house. “Honestly I don’t know if I want her to get her memory back.” Gwen said. At least for the most part Juliet was happy. Gwen watched a little longer before turning to Angel. “Whatever happened must have been hell. She’s already endured so much more than one person should ever have to in one lifetime. Maybe it's a blessing that she doesn't remember.”

Angel agreed to some extent. He didn’t want her to have to suffer anymore than she had but not knowing came with it’s own pain. He also couldn't stand not knowing who hurt her and how. It was selfish but he had to know if only to know where to focus his rage. “Yeah but she also isn’t sleeping and she’s jumpier than usual. It’s like she’s fighting a demon she can’t see. I’m not sure that’s much better.”

“I wish there was more I could do for her.” Gwen hated feeling helpless and right now that was all she felt, just like Angel.

“There is.” Angel remembered EZ’s earlier advice to him. “We can’t give her her memory back but we can at least fill her in on what she missed here at home. At least that’s what EZ suggested. He said we should fill her in. Tell her the good and the bad shit she’s missed. She deserves to know what happened while she was gone and life went on.” Angel pushed off the counter so he could stand directly in front of Gwen. “I have to tell her. I have to tell her everything.” He wanted to give Gwen the head’s up. What was clawing at the back of his mind right now involved her too.

He had to tell Juliet about Vicky’s girls and he had to tell her about his night with Gwen. He could never keep secrets from her before and now even less so.

Gwen knew where Angel was going with this. It wasn’t that she didn’t think Juliet had the right to know she just did not see the point in telling her. She glanced back at Juliet and Serena seeing them focused on the Frozen Serena’s favorite movie that she had put on the tv to show Auntie Juliet. Gwen looked back at Angel keeping her voice hushed. “She doesn’t need to know about everything.”

“I have to tell her Gwen. I can’t keep this hanging above our relationship.” He wanted to be able to kiss his wife, to hold her, to be with her as man and wife but he couldn’t do all that with this guilt inside him.  

“Telling her is only going to hurt her Angel,” Gwen insisted, “We were drunk and hurting and it only happened once. What is telling her going to accomplish?” They both felt terrible immediately after their night together and agreed to never talk about it again but here they were.

“Are you afraid it’s going to ruin your relationship?” Angel asked Gwen.

“Aren’t you afraid it’s going to ruin yours?” Yes she didn’t want to lose her best friend but that wasn’t the reason she was against it. She was just trying to protect Juliet’s heart. “Are you sure this isn’t just about easing your guilt?”

“It’s not about that. It’s about my relationship with my wife. It’s about the promise I made to her the day we got married.” Angel felt like shit after sleeping with Gwen and continued to feel so in those late hours of the night when he’d dream about his wife. The girl’s at Vicky’s had no connection to him but Gwen was family, she was Juliet’s best friend. Even with thinking she could be dead he still felt as he betrayed her. What Gwen said was correct. They were drunk and heartbroken just seeking any feeling besides the heartache that had consumed them both. Juliet was compassionate and understanding. She would understand. “Juliet will understand.” Angel said as if saying it outloud would make it true.  

“Juliet will be fucking pissed.” Gwen sighed, shifting her weight on her feet. “Look Angel I get where you are coming from but honestly what is telling going to do besides causing her more pain? Hasn’t she been through enough already?” She reached out setting her hand on his arm. “Just please don’t do anything impulsive and really think it over before you say anything. This is so much bigger than our one night together that meant nothing."

Angel nodded giving in to Gwen. He would wait for now and think it over. He didn’t want to ruin Juliet’s good mood. He just wanted to cherish this happy moment all together for now.

"Mama! Angel! Come watch with us!" Serena called out from where she was bouncing on the couch.

Juliet looked over at them and smiled. "You heard the boss." She laughed.

"I'll make some popcorn," Gwen muttered before excusing herself to the panty.

Angel put on a smile for his girls. He sat down next to Juliet wrapping his arms around her. Serena giggled climbing on to his lap taking his other arm and wrapping it around herself tightly. "Uncle Angel is just like Olaf," Serena told Juliet snuggling in close to him, "he loves warm hugs." Serena smiled watching the screen getting lost in the movie.

Juliet watched Serena with Angel closely . It seemed she had some competition for her husband's attention but she didn’t mind. Seeing Angel with Serena only made her yearn for a child of their own even more.

Angel would be an excellent father one day.

Tagged List: @jad3djay @fairygardenss @carlaangel86 @briannab1234 @starrynite7114 @agirllovespasta @howaboutash @gemini0410 @naytraydr @knowles-morgan @woahitslucyylu @everyhowlmarksthedead @ktiz90 @brothersofmayhem @ifoundmyhappythought @vsfavs @scuzmunkie @chibsytelford @whyisgmora @sadeyesgf @blessedboo @lilac-tea-time @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @toni9 @thesandbeneathmytoes @briana-mishell24 @sesamepancakes @erinicole86 @trhett21 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @cocotheclown @angelreyesgirl @cind-in-real-life @sonnycarisiisdaddy

#angel reyes #angel reyes x oc #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes fic #mayans mc #mayans mc fic #yesterday

[ahtohallan-calling]

the very best | canonverse kristanna fluff/slight angst | rated t | 1.6k

happy valentine’s, have some kristanna celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary 💫thank you @kristoffbjorg for all your help!

All things considered, age has been kind to him, but where it sometimes fails, Anna never does. She hums as she fastens each fiddly little button on the front of his shirt, taking her time with smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles before leaning in to kiss his cheek. It doesn’t quite surprise him anymore, but his eyes light up all the same. 

“All done,” she says cheerily before turning away from him. “Help me with my dress?”

Dresses that close with laces are no longer the fashion-- rows and rows of glass and pearl buttons are what his granddaughters swoon over-- but she has them made this way anyway, knows what it means to him to be able to help her every morning as he always has. He pulls the laces until they are secure, glad she has already slid them through the eyelets so he doesn’t have to embarrass himself by trying. He, too, takes longer than he needs to, nuzzling his nose against the back of her neck so he can inhale the scent of her rose and jasmine perfume before pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder.

She smiles and tilts her head back so she can kiss him properly. “Remember when we used to spend whole mornings doing this?”

He sets his hand on her waist, waggles his eyebrows. “How can I forget?”

“We can do that today if you want. I think we’ve earned it.”

He chuckles at her enthusiasm, still there despite the decades. “Tempting. But I think our daughter will have our heads if we don’t come down and help wrangle all the kids.”

“Oh! Do you think Lucia and Fredrik have brought their little one? What did they name her again?”

His heart lurches in his chest. “Anna, my darling. They named her after you, remember?”

For a moment she falters, then she gives him a sweet smile so bright he can almost forget that this is becoming a regular occurrence. “Just testing you!” she says before kissing his cheek once more and floating over to slip on her shoes. 

He follows, letting her put one hand on his shoulder to keep her balance. Her hand stays there as he steps into his own shoes, and then it slides down into the crook of his elbow so he can escort her downstairs. 

She looks longingly at the banisters as they pass by. It would certainly be faster to slide down them than to keep taking careful steps with creaky knees, but recovering from an accidental tumble at the end wouldn’t be so quick anymore. She sighs and leans against him a little with a fond smile, and he knows she’s remembering the days when they would race each other to the bottom, him taking the stairs two at a time as she slid, shrieking with glee, and he would catch her just in time for them to land in a flushed heap on the floor, skirts and laughter floating freely around them.

“I caught Peder sliding down them yesterday,” he tells her, and she grins; of their children, Peder had always been her most ardent student of mischief. 

“Good. Someone has to keep passing that tradition down.”

He laughs at that. “Trust me, he is. A little line of children followed him right after.”

They take their time at breakfast, smiling at each other over butter-laden toast and cups of tea with extra sugar. Their eldest bursts in just as Kristoff is helping himself to a second scoop of eggs and Anna is working through her third.

“Mama! Papa! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Ingrid gasps out, darting over to press a kiss on her mother’s cheek.

“Our routine hasn’t changed in ten years, Ingabug,” Kristoff says drily, patting her arm when she leans over his back to hug him around the neck.

“Oh, I know, it’s just I thought maybe you’d be out doing something special, or still up in your rooms, or just-- I don’t know, not every day is your fiftieth anniversary.”

He shrugs and reaches over to hold Anna’s left hand in his own, admiring for the millionth time the way the orange diamond of her engagement ring catches the light. “We just want to do things like normal, maybe a little slower so we can take time to enjoy it.”

“Every day feels like an anniversary with you,” Anna says with a flirtatious wink as if there is still any part of his heart she needs to win over. 

He blushes, and Ingrid gives them both a soft smile. “Alright, well, I won’t take much of your time, then.”

She sits down beside her mother so they can discuss a few of the less exciting details of governance; she’s played an active role in it all since her early twenties, but now there is a nearly even split of responsibility between mother and daughter, ensuring that when the time for a full transition comes, it will be a smooth one. He had worried that it would bother Anna, make her feel feeble when at last she had had to admit she couldn’t keep up the lightning pace she once maintained, but she had only smiled.

“She was born for this,” she reassured him, “and I’m glad I get to live long enough to see her come into her own like this. Besides, it means I get more time to pester you.”

She gets extra time for that today, since Ingrid insists she will take care of absolutely everything and their only job is to enjoy themselves. Kristoff doesn’t need to be told twice. Even now when most people their age have retired, it’s still difficult for them to get even an afternoon off.

When they were younger and full of boundless energy, they would have taken the opportunity to retreat upstairs to their bedroom and spend the whole day gloriously unclothed, but now he knows they’d fall asleep with their socks still on and waste all their time snoring. Instead, when she has finished her second cup of tea, he takes her by the arm again and leads her out into the streets of her beloved city.

She forgets her schedule and her great-granddaughter's name and where she set the hairbrush, but she remembers every little landmark that means nothing to anyone but them. They stop at her favorite bakery, the one she sent him to twice a day when she was pregnant with the twins, and even though they just ate they buy a piece of cake to share. "We're old, might as well enjoy ourselves while there's still time," she says cheerfully, and he grins and reaches over the table to wipe a smudge of frosting off her chin.

The art gallery is next, and they linger for nearly an hour. When it opened, Kristoff had attended the gala reluctantly, not looking forward to the small talk and tight sleeves, but then he'd seen a painting of a ship under the Northern Lights and been enraptured. He raved about it to Anna for the rest of the evening, how it reminded him of being a little boy and realizing just how vast the world really was for the first time. And then for his birthday a few weeks later, when she had given him a sketchbook and a set of watercolors, he'd nearly wept for joy. He's turned into a capable artist over the years, though now he can no longer hold a pencil long enough for more than a quick sketch. Looking, though, that's enough for him now, especially when it's accompanied by Anna's hand wrapped around his, squeezing tightly whenever she finds a painting she especially loves.

Their last stop is a spot on the docks that is entirely unremarkable, the view blocked by something no matter which way you turn, but there is a little bench there that their sons had built for them ten years ago, knowing what this place meant to them. He waits until she is seated, keeping his hand in hers as she settles herself before joining her, putting his arm over her shoulders as she leans her head against him.

Anna laces her fingers through his, and he knows she is smiling; it still amuses her how his hand dwarfs hers. "You know, one thing has gotten better with age. You're a way better kisser now than you were back then."

He feigns offense. "What, you didn't like my kissing?"

She giggles as if she is still that girl of eighteen he had already fallen in love with. "No! I mean no, I didn't not like it. But it was the first time for both of us. Lots of drool."

"Mostly yours."

"Well-- alright, you're probably right. It was still very romantic, though. But I'm grateful for all the practice since then."

He wishes he could kiss her like that again, sweep her off her feet and spin her like he used to when he was so overwhelmed with joy and love he couldn't contain it. Now he hasn't got half the strength he'd need, but the other part-- well. Some things never change.

He turns so he can kiss her forehead, smiling when he feels her nestle closer to him. "They'll start to wonder where we are, baby."

"Let them wonder. They'll figure it out eventually."

They will, and too soon for his liking; it's no secret that the pair of them have a habit of sneaking out to this spot at every opportunity. But for now there are more important things to care about, like the sun on his face and his wife at his side.

Anna leans up and kisses his cheek. "We've had a good run, haven't we?"

There is an air of finality to it, but one of peace as well. He understands; he's getting tired, too. He squeezes her hand again, the one with her rings, and whispers, "The very best."

a/n: as always ingrid is gabi and jilly’s 💖

#my fics #kristanna

[thatkidwhodreams]

The Lie

Chapter One

Masterlist

Prologue

Warning: Smut, playful insults

*Three Years Later*

You and Shawn have been together for three years and today just so happened to be your anniversary. It felt like yesterday Shawn asked you to be his girlfriend, he just walked right up to you whilst you were in the library doing a little homework (mostly procrastinating) and he started saying the most random things about you. You can’t lie it did scare you a little but then he sang you one of your favourite songs and you died right there.

You were planning to do something special for your man and that included getting a new set of lingerie. You headed into Victoria’s Secret with your best friend Sofia as she thought you needed some quality ‘best friend’ time. You looked through the plethoras of underwear and undergarments until you found the one you knew would blow Shawn’s mind.

Sofia insisted that she inspects what you pick for your big night. She was VERY picky might you add so it took awhile for her to be satisfied although she wasn’t the only one who was going to be satisfied today *wink* *wink*. Once you’d picked out your new set for tonight you paid for it and then headed out of the store. Victoria’s Secret would finally be out tonight.

Shawn was at work well, that was what he said so you and Sofia had more time to yourselves. You decided on a few tv shows and frozen pizza you might as well eat up before the exercise later. Shadowhunters was currently on and you and Sofia were lowkey hitting on Alec Lightwood.

“He’s so handsome, it’s too bad he’s gay we would’ve made a cute couple.” You spoke dreamily

Sofia threw a pillow at you

“Ow WHAT THE HELL!” You screamed a little dramatically.

“YOU HAVE A FUCKING BOYFRIEND STOP HITTING ON ALEC AND LEAVE SOME ROOM FOR THE SINGLETONS!”

“SORRY” You replied sarcastically. “ I didn’t realise that I wasn’t allowed to like fictional characters.”

The discussion went on for hours from Stiles Stilinski in Teen Wolf to Jeff Atkins from 13 Reasons Why and how he was an adorable soul who deserved better.

“Let’s prank call Shawn” Sofia blurted out in sudden excitement.

“OMG YESSS GO AND GET THE BRICK PHONE THAT NOBODY USES!”

Sofia ran to the corner and picked up the Nokia 216. You took the phone off her and dialed Shawn’s number. It picked up on the second ring.

“Hello?” A voice spoke from the other side.

You put on your best feminine voice higher than your usual one and spoke.

“Local sperm bank you jack it we pack it. Is this Shawn?”

“Erm….I think you might have the wrong number?”

“No, this is Mr Shawn Mendes right?”

Sofia was giggling in the background and you muttered a quick “shh”

You spoke again “Am I right?”

“Okay ma’am I think you might be confu-“ Shawn replied but you cut him off.

“You are the sperm donor right?”

“Erm…….” Then the line cut off. You and Sofia burst out laughing.

“What happened?”

“He hung up” you spoke as tears were in your eyes. “He was so confused.”

“Haaaaaaaa” Sofia’s mouth was wide open as she too was dying from this prank.

After a while you calmed down and had a sudden idea to get drunk for no reason after all it was still your anniversary.

Suddenly you heard the door open and a voice scream “I’m home.” It was a voice you knew oh so well.

“Sorry Sofie but bae is back!” You said rising from your current position. “Your presence is no longer required.”

“Hey! We were gonna get druuuuuunk!”

“Not today sis.”

“Before you go lemme just tell you, the craziest thing happened today.”

You and Sofia looked at each other.

“What happened?” You asked

“Some lady called me on an unknown number asking if I was a sperm donor for the local sperm bank. I don’t recall being a sperm donor.”

You and Sofia burst out laughing again.

“OH LORD!”

“IT’S NOT FUNNY BABE I WAS TRAUMATISED!”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” You walked up to him and kissed him.

“Mmmhhhhmmm it’s okay I’m feeling a little better anyway.”

“Oh yeah? The only sperm you’re going to be donating is in here.” You guided his hands to your private area.

“Erm….I think I’ll take this as my que to leave.” Sofia said awkwardly

“Wait, nooooo don’t go.”

“I’M LEAVING NOOOOW. BYEEEE ENJOY YOUR STEAMY MAKEOUT SESSION WITH MORE TO COME LITERALLY MORE TO CO-!”

“OKAY YOU CAN GO NOW!”

Both of your eyes followed her as she headed into her car and drove off.

“Wow she is a handful.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Heeeeey what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You and her are like twins. Seriously, you’re like a Jack-in-the-box popping out at random times and giving people the craziest shock of their lives.”

You gasped and folded you arms with a slight pout on your face. “That was mean!”

“I’m sorry baby hey I got you something.” Shawn pulled out a rectangular box. You looked over at it and still pouted in the corner.

Shawn sighed “Please forgive me babe.”

“NO!”

“Okay but you’re still gonna see what I got you, it just might change your mind.” Shawn opened the box and your eyes narrowed to take a little glance at it, you were trying to be as discreet as possible. He opened the box and it revealed a necklace with Shawn’s initials on it.

“You’re full of yourself aren’t you?”

Shawn chuckled “No babe it’s a reminder and a sign that I’m yours. You have one with my initials and I have one of yours.” He pulled out a necklace which laid on his chest that was hidden in his shirt and on it were your initials nicely engraved. You couldn’t hold your grudge any longer so your walls broke right there.

“Awwwww Shawn that’s so sweet. I LOVE IT!”

“Oh I nearly forgot your surprise is upstairs. I’m just gonna go upstairs and get it. Close your eyes NO PEEKING!”

“Okay babe.” Shawn said as he smiled at his beautiful girlfriend and soon to be wife who just so happened to be you.

You headed upstairs and got undressed to put on the lingerie that Sofia helped you pick out. Then you headed a call from downstairs.

“Princess, are you nearly ready. I’ve been waiting for ages!”

You rolled your eyes even though you knew he couldn’t see you do it. “Oh shut up! Your eyes have only been closed for three minutes!”

You heard him groan and sigh but you ignored him and carried on. Once you were done you looked at yourself in the full length mirror and adjusted a few things. You walked out of the room and stayed at the top of the stairs.

“Okay, you can look now.”

Shawn opens his eyes and his mouth was wide open.

“Babe……”

You didn’t know what was up but you began to feel a little self conscious. So you hid yourself a little.

“Do you not like it?”

“What! No babe I love it. You look so sexy right now.” Shawn groaned.

“Reeaalllyy?”

“Yes, ugh. I can’t even.”

You didn’t know what had gotten into you, but all of a sudden your pride came back and you walked back into your bedroom knowing Shawn would look like a lost puppy and follow you.

“Hey! Babe, wait up.”

You giggled and sat on the bed cross legged and three seconds later Shawn burst in the room panting a bit. All the man did was run up the bloody stairs. It was only fifteen goddamn steps!

“So….this is my anniversary present right?”

You rolled your eyes so hard you thought it might’ve stayed there.

“What do you think?!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Shawn apologised.

You and Shawn has a playful relationship you’d just insult each other for no particular reason and pretend to be upset. But it all ended in kisses and cuddles later on.

You and Shawn just stared at each other like two pups in love until Shawn leaned forward and before you knew it your lips were moulded into each other. You leaned back into the bed leaving Shawn on top of you. Shawn broke the kiss taking his shirt off, your eyes seeing nothing else but his abs. Shawn continued to kiss you and leave a trail of kisses on your collarbone and down to your stomach.

“Babe, it’s not fair that I’m the only one taking something off.” Shawn said as he was about to tear your new bra off.

“Hey! Don’t tear it this is brand new okay. Be gentle.”

“Calm your tits! I’ll buy you another one.” And just like that he tore your bra open and you groaned in pleasure and annoyance. He muttered a quick “sorry” and continued his assault on your breasts.

You guided his hands down to your panties and bucked your hips into his hands.

“Shawwwnnnn!” You cried as he started taking your panties off in a more civilised way than he did to your bra.

You ran your fingers through his chocolate curls as he started pumping into you with his fingers.

“Gosh baby, you’re so wet.”

“What do you expect with you doing me like this?” You chuckled.

Shawn started laughing “Hush child.”

“CHILD?! I’m only two months younger than you!”

“Shhh” He said placing a finger on your lips. With his other hand he continued to pump into you and you moaned. He added another finger and began going a little faster, you were sure to break right there. Then he stopped.

“Heyyyyy!” You exclaimed and you hit his chest. He just kissed your cheek.

“Yup you’re ready for me now.”

“Ready for what? That tiny twig there? What’s its name again I think it was Frank or something.”

Shawn looked hurt but he knew you were playing around so he gasped in a fake manner. “Take that back!”

“Why should I take back the truth?”

“Because we know you want us and if you don’t take it back we won’t satisfy you.” He said getting up off the bed and walking out of the room.

“Wait you can’t leave me like this! Okay, okay I’m sorry! Come back! I need you!”

Shawn came back a few seconds later as he was hiding behind the hinges of the door. He didn’t really leave he was just waiting for an apology and if he didn’t get one he was planning on getting himself off.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Ugh I’m sorry, now please help me out. I know you need this as much as I do.”

You showed him your puppy dog eyes knowing that he couldn’t say no to you and just like that you had him wrapped around your little finger again.

He got back on the bed and finished what he was doing before and you sure as hell came.

He then started taking off his Calvin Klein boxers that he recently bought and modelled for you a few times. Now his ‘little’ friend was fully out.

“Are you okay? Is this ‘tiny twig’ too much for you to handle?” Shawn asked cockily (pun intended).

You scoffed “Pshh no of course not now hurry please.”

Shawn slowly slid himself into you and you moaned. He went a little slow at first, giving you enough time to adjust to him and he wrapped his mouth around your right nipple and started tweaking the other. Shortly, he switched and moved onto the other one causing you to let out a short groan which seemed to be contagious as Shawn groaned too. He began rolling his hips faster hitting a certain spot inside you making you scream and he shut his eyes harder which was a sign that he was about to come.

“I’m so close Shawn.”

“Me too baby.” He groaned. A few more thrusts later you both hit your highs and came together.

Shawn rolled off you and the two of you started panting like there was no tomorrow.

“So much for a tiny twig huh?” Shawn said sarcastically as he was holding you like a fragile being.

“Shut up!”

“Ha, I’m kidding. I love you so much babe happy anniversary.” Shawn kissed your cheek, nose then lips.

“I know right I’m amazing.” Shawn pinches your sides.

“Okay, okay I love you too honey happy anniversary I hope you enjoyed my little present.”

“I loved it!” And the both of you snuggled the whole night until you drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Two

A/N: This is my first time writing smut It’s pretty bad I know but I’ll get better at it. I’m not gonna lie but this is totally me if I was to ever be with Shawn. Feedback is always appreciated, I don’t bite.  ❤️

#shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes #shawn mendes smut #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes fanfic #the lie

[girlonastring]

List of Future H50 Fic

1) Graceless:

Danny loses visitation/rights until the reassessment of his job adjourns; after discovering Rachel is moving with Stan to Hawaii, he transfers to HPD. No one there knows about Grace (until he knows his fate, talking about her is too painful), not even after joining Five-0.

Until one day, he hears that precious voice say ‘Danno’ and he turns to the best sight in the world: his baby girl.

The bulk of the story will be of that scene, and the events that follow. It’ll have angst, drama, family moments - and pre-Mcdanno. Depending on how long it goes, they may even be starting a relationship. But they are definitely end game.

2) Any Man of Mine:

A combination of Steve things like the song, or the opposite to it. I still haven’t quite worked out all the details for that, but it’s what I’m aiming for. Will start off with a memory of Danny singing along to the song with Grace, and later will have her bringing up the similarities of their song and Steve to Danno, and bonding over that.

It’ll be pre-Mcdanno, but also that lovely trope where they’ve basically been dating for forever, but only one of them really notices it. Which will be Danny! Also, a 5+1 because I LOVE that!

3) Undercover WitSec:

This one is pure indulgence for me. I love the idea of Danny having been undercover when he worked back in Jersey, so in this he’ll have been undercover (thinking maybe with the mob?? Still deciding) and gotten close with a kid (placing this before!Grace, but still with Rachel) and when all is said and done, the kid (an OFC, because I can) is put in witness protection.

Shoot forward however many years, and he’s in Hawaii, and the only ones who know about this girl are Rachel (because she’s a big reason why he wanted a kid) and Grace (honorary big sister no one knows about; why she knows exactly I don’t know?? Haven’t figured that out yet) so when this girl shows up, calling Danny something no one understands in Italian cue the shocked reactions!

The reason she was in witsec is ‘dead’ so she’s back and it’s getting their lives resettled, have some nice pre-Mcdanno going on, then low and behold, the reason is not really dead and we have some action. Ends in established Mcdanno!

4) Serial Revenge:

Thought this one up at work yesterday and I am P U M P E D for it! Still figuring out a lot of the details, so this overview will be even shorter.

Danny is friends with this kid when he’s young, who seems so normal, but one day it’s discovered his parents are dead. Not only dead, but murdered. He has his suspicions about it, but nothing is ever tied together and so the kid (who something is obviously not right about - still figuring out that detail!) is sent to a mental hospital (foster care from there?? Don’t know yet!)

Flash forward and we’re in Hawaii, and there are killing happening that Five-0 dont’ know about until somehow, there’s a Danny connection and HPD calls them in.

Grace is sent away for safety, Danny is living with Steve for the same reason, bodies keep showing up, and it’s a race to figure out who it is, then to prove it AND stop him.

Killer winds up dead in the end, we get Mcdanno happening, and I am so very ready for this fic!

5) Dolled Up Steve:

Steve watching Grace at his house while Danny has to go do - something, and they play tea party and dolls and hey, dress up for the tea party! And when Danny comes back to find Grace doing Steve’s nails, look of intense concentration while she jabs away, and Steve is looking at her like she’s his whole world? So fond and full of love? That is Danny’s ‘oh shit I’m in love with this dumbass moment’.

I have a feeling this will jump from Danny POV, to Steve POV, back to Danny POV.

6) Sunshine & Whiskey:

Follows along with the lyrics that I chose a while back, and most likely will wind up a PWP. Maybe get some lime, maybe get some lemon. Just waiting on it to let me know what we’re doin’!

7) I've Got You Under My Skin:

The sap for this one! Established relationship, living together, and during a tender moment when they’re swaying in the living room/kitchen (haven’t decided;;) along to Frank Sinatra, someone proposes. <3 Then! Another chapter of them slow dancing to the same song at their wedding. <33

8) Pour Some Sugar:

So Danny in a private moment of Rachel’s bachelorette party did a strip routine for her and at a party Kono and Malia find out about it and it turns into him doing a very funny, extra snippet for Kono’s bachelorette party which he then gets to join. No one figures this out until Kono makes a comment about a tattoo that Danny has that’s not exactly public friendly, followed by Danny saying something about bachelorette parties getting crazy.

So Steve and Chin wind up finding out, which of course leads to Steve getting to see the routine in his own private moment, but made different so it’s just for him. And yes, there will be an explanation to why Danny knows how to do a strip routine, lol

9) Pictures Worth:

So Danny overhears Kono and Malia talking about tasteful pictures being done for a wedding gift and tells them “hey, that can be done” And he pulls them aside and shows them photos he took of a high school ex that she had done as a wedding gift for her wife, and “see, tasteful, just do it like that”

They discuss it and he helps them find someone on the island who will do it and be discreet/comfortable. What he doesn’t share is that before he took the ones of his ex, he did practice shots of himself so that he could be sure the gift turned out perfect. No one else knows this - not even Rachel.

I don’t know how Steve and Chin will find out (or why they have to, but I apparently like to involve the team in this set up *shrugs*) and Steve finds out about his private shoot and there’s Mcdanno goodness!

10) Too Close:

Old friends of Danny’s come to the island for a visit, and one night when they’ve had a bit to drink he admits that Too Close by Next makes him think of Steve, talking about the hot and bothered aspect of it - he’s quite smashed at this point. At a party for the old friends to meet the new, Kono and the girl friend (or the girl friend and the guy friend {they’re married!}) are talking about how clueless Steve and Danny are and how they need to get together already etc

Later they’ve had enough and the friend mentions the song mention so Kono sets it as Steve’s tone on Danny’s phone and ‘loses’ the phone so Steve has to call. The rest of the story is dealin’ with the aftermath of that and of course the Mcdanno!

11) It Wasn’t Me:

Danny and maybe Rachel having a normal day when all of a sudden their little angel goes through singing the chorus of the aforementioned song and just flipping their shit.

After finding out that they have Uncle Matty to thank because he thought Gracie was asleep but she wasn’t and having to explain that it wasn’t an appropriate song for her to be singing and something about “Cheating is wrong” so that when Grace finds out about Rachel and Stan and later Danny and Rachel (possibly) its just “so you two are hypocrites” or something.

Essentially I just want that initial freak out, and definitely will be finding some way to put Mcdanno in it!

12) DILF:

So Steve is Grace’s teacher and she overhears him saying that Danny is a DILF and later she asks her dad what that means and the choking on a drink and going bright red and trying to figure out what the heck to do with that, how to answer. The rest is yet to be determined, but of course it will be Mcdanno!

13) Love Bug:

YOU GUYS. I forgot about this one! This is what the title says: people of Hawaii are being bitten by a love bug, and the team is on the case to find out what the heck is going on! The effects can get more dangerous the longer there is no cure, so of course Steve is bitten. Not only that, but he just can’t seem to keep his hands or eyes off of Danny! There’s intrigue, case solving, and awkward I-couldn’t-keep-my-hands-off-you avoidance that all ends in lovely Mcdanno <3

14) Sleepy Prompt #20

“I think your hair is cute when you wake up, if only you could see it the way I did.”

15) Smut Prompt #57

“If we get caught I’m blaming you.”

16) Smut Prompt #59

“Wow, I didn’t realize you were that...flexible.”

17) Whumptober Prompt #7

Isolation

18) Whumptober Prompt #8

Stab Wound

19) Whumptober Prompt #9 

Shackled

20) Whumptober Prompt #10

Unconscious

21) Whumptober Prompt #11

Stitches (continuation of day 3)

22) Whumptober Prompt #12

Don’t Move

23) Whumptober Prompt #13

Adrenaline

24) Whumptober Prompt #16

Pinned Down

25) Whumptober Prompt #18

Wake Up

26) Whumptober Prompt #19

Asphyxiation

27) Whumptober Prompt #20

Trembling

28) Whumptober Prompt #21

Laced Drink

29) Whumptober Prompt #23

Bleeding Out

30) Whumptober Prompt #24

Secret Injury

31) Whumptober Prompt #26

Abandoned 

32) Whumptober Prompt #27

Ransom (continuation of day 26)

33) Whumptober Prompt #28

Beaten

34) Whumptober Prompt #29

Numb (continuation of day 28)

35) Whumptober Prompt #30

Recovery (continuation of day 12)

36) Whumptober Prompt #31

Embrace

37) Sleepy Prompt #34

“Will you carry me to bed?”

38) 5+1 Mistletoe

Basically the 5 kisses Steve shared under the mistletoe that were platonic and the one that meant the most. Gotta find my notes for this!

39) A.D.I.D.A.S.

A 5+1 esque fic of smut scenes!

So there are the ideas so far! A few have been mentioned in previous posts, I just don’t know how to link them in this one. They will be coming out in no particular order, and it will take one time because I will wind up writing multiple ones at once. It’s just a matter of which one is speaking louder to me!

I hope someone else is excited for this with me, and please, feel free to talk to me about any of them! Honestly I am so pumped to write them all, I can’t wait to get them all started! :D

Edit: July 19, 2019  August 21, 2020

#hawaii 5 0 fanfiction #mcdanno #writing #hawaii five 0 fanfiction #danny williams #steve mcgarrett #my ideas #which will become a reality! #so pumped!! #fic list #mcdanno fic list #my to do list

[bluboothalassophile]

Stories of the Batfamily + extended family/friend's attempts to get jason and raven together to the point that they have maybe? Group chats , monthly meetups or get togethers to devise plans of attack (matchmaking) without targeted people knowing to the point it turns into a batfamily bonding experience 👪✨ Although its clear that jason and raven are naturally going to be together on their own time when they are ready, i wanna see other methods the batfamily has used before jayrae happened

Hello,

This is sounding like fun antics, to which I should build on… I like the way you think. Expect more of the Batfamily shenanigans to ensue!

Keeping the Peace…

Bruce valiantly tried to stay OUT of meddling in hischildren’s lives. TRIED being the operative word here. There were waymore of them than him, and his wife did not help matters. Selina was easily thebiggest instigator of shenanigans in his house and had been since they werekids. So, aside from being out numbered and out gunned, he was trying harder atbeing a parent and not a meddler. Again, easier said than done.

No matter, Bruce was in a board meeting, with the heads hisnewest acquisition, Jetsons Aviation, which was currently the leadingcompletely earth-based company leading in space exploration. George Jetson andhis daughter Judy, with their lead engineer, Dominique Blake, sat there as theyfinished the contract signing. George was a rather plain, lean, redheaded man;his daughter, Judy had platinum blonde hair and looked about Tim’s age, andDominique Blake was a vivacious redhead. All three were sitting in apprehensionas the contract was handed to him to sign.

“Father!” a voice shouted, and Damian burst into the room. “Idemand that you help us!”

Cass, Tim and Stephanie all peaked around the corner andBruce sighed as he leaned in his seat.

“I told you he was in a meeting!” Tim hissed.

“I tried to stop the gremlin!” Stephanie snapped.

Cass beamed at him and Bruce smiled slightly at his daughteras Damian took up his line of sight. Damian puffed up his chest, put his handson his hips; everything about that just screamed Talia al Ghul as Damian glaredchallengingly at him.

“Damian,” Bruce sighed. “George Jetson, this is my son, Damian,Damian I am in an important meeting.” Bruce saw the bemused look on George’sface.

“This is more important,” Damian stated in a huff.

“Then it will wait, until after I’ve finished my meeting andI take you and your siblings to lunch to discuss this important topic,” Brucecountered.

Damian opened his mouth to protest.

“Bye dad!” Cass smiled as she grabbed the neck of Damian’s shirtand dragged him after her. Bruce sighed as he turned back to the trio who werelooking ready to burst into laughter. Signing the document they finished thediscussion of the merger, and Bruce asked Lucius to d an audit of the companybefore standing and assuring George that he would be back and would like totalk more about the funding needed for the company.

Bruce was bemused to be greeted by Tim, Tammy, Stephanie,Cass and Damian. Damian was scowling at having been dismissed, Tim had his handentwined with Tammy’s while Cass and Stephanie were both having a vibrant conversationabout… waffles?

“What was so important Damian?” Bruce asked as he and his kidsstarted down the street.

“I must insist we buy the Kiss Cam at the Play Offs game!” Damianstated.

“What?”

“He’s been on this since yesterday, sir,” Tammy said.

“And why do we need to buy the KissCam?” Bruce asked drylyas his son walked beside him.

“Jason is being an imbecile, I saw him with that Rose woman.It is not allowed,” Damian huffed. Bruce sighed then.

Jason was a complicated matter still, but it was mostlyamusing when Damian saw Jason with Rose. Which had happened after the weddingwhen Jason had crossed paths with Ravager. Bruce still remember cringing as thetwo toppled off WE Tower, and Jason kissed Rose until last moment when he escapedthe death fall, Rose a step behind him the entire time. That night Bruce andthe family had kind of gotten a front row seat without distractions or interferencewhat Rose and Jason were really like. And it had landed in one of Jason’s safehouses. Bruce remembered because he had come by the next morning mainly to makesure Jason was alive, only to find a naked, pissed off Rose chained to theheater as Jason ducked out the window to escape Rose’s wrath.

“Jason is free to do as he pleases,” Bruce reminded hischild.

“I told him that,” Tim piped up.

“The gremlin thinks we need to save Jason from Rose,” Stephaniegiggled.

“JayRae,” Cass chimed up. “Hot dogs,” Cass pointed at astreet vendor. Bruce pulled out his wallet and handed her the bills as shedragged Tim, Tammy and Stephanie after her for hot dogs.

“Jason is a moron,” Damian huffed sourly.

“Jason is also an adult free to make his own decisions,”Bruce reminded his son.

“Bad ones.”

“Damian,” Bruce sighed.

“You are concerned for our well being as your children, andas you are our father, even if Jason is a colossal imbecile. He can no longerbe trusted to make decisions about his love life,” Damian stated.

Okay, those were valid points, but the same could be saidabout Tim or Cass or Duke, and Bruce didn’t interfere with their lives. And hehad seen what meddling did with Barbara and Dick, so he didn’t see how thiscould even end well. However, Damian was persistent, and Jason was no doubt awareof Damian’s incessant pushing for him to get together with Raven, so Brucecould honestly see no harm in amusing Damian. Jason and Raven would sort it out.And it’d be a moment of peace.

“Fine.” Bruce submitted to keep a moment of peace. Hischildren were weird regarding Jason and Raven. But who was he to judge, so longas they weren’t at each other’s throats he’d let them set Jason up with Raven.Honestly, this was the most civil Tim and Damian had been since Damian’s arrival.

Internally Bruce pleaded for Raven and Jason’s forgivenessfor throwing them under the bus.

“You see reason, good.” Damian huffed.

Bruce saw peace. Not reason. But for now he would allow his sonthe delusion that he was in on these antics to keep the peace in his house. Solong as Selina didn’t get in the antics he couldn’t see the harm.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Jason sat up when he felt the hairs on the back of his neckstand up. He didn’t like that feeling, something was up…

“Jay get your paranoid ass down here! I need a shower andLian needs food!” Roy shouted.

“I’m coming! Calm your tits!” Jason shouted back as he stoodand jogged down the steps of his ware house to where Lian was fighting Roy tonot get in her high chair for the mushy greens.

“You take her, I have to be at the site in twenty,” Roy huffedshoving Lian at him before running off.

“You clearly annoyed your daddy, good girl, for that wegonna have peaches for lunch!” Jason smiled as Lian squealed in delight. Kidwas kind of growing on him.

#bluboothalassophile #fanfic #one #bruce wayne #damian wayne #tim drake #tammy fox #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #george jetson #judy jetson #jayrose #roy harper #jason todd #lian harper #hopes for a bastard #hopes for a bastard universe

[roslinadama-sinequanon]

Saying Good-Bye to Yesterday-Chapter 3

In this chapter, Sharon and Andy return to LA. Ricky tells Sharon about the visit he and Emily made to Jack's about the annulment. Sharon worries that it is taking them longer than planned to find a house and that Andy might be getting tired of living in her condo.

Shandy Heat!

You can find this chapter here https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13004092/3/Saying-Good-Bye-to-Yesterday

and here https://archiveofourown.org/works/15321687/chapters/36271923

and right here

"Here we are, home sweet home." Andy pushed the door open to the condo, allowing Sharon to enter before he followed her in dragging in their large suitcase, the big carryon leather bag on his shoulder banging against the doorway as he tried to maneuver everything in.

Sharon dropped her smaller carry-on and turned to look at him with a sympathetic smile. She appreciated the sentiment, and yes, it was where he was living now, but she knew it wasn't home. With most of his things still in storage until they found a house to buy, aesthetically, nothing had really changed since he moved in.

"Mom, Andy, you're back."

"Ricky!" Sharon's excited squeal of surprise and the way she embraced her son brought a smile to Andy's lips. The pureness of her love for her children was something to behold.

"You just saw me, yesterday, Mom," Ricky laughed at Sharon's enthusiasm.

"Yes, and I didn't expect to see you again for quite a while. I thought you were flying back to San Francisco yesterday?"

Ricky's eyes met Rusty's with slight trepidation. "Yes, well, I had something I needed to do."

"What's that?"

"We'll talk after supper. Rusty and I cooked." Sharon's eyes met Andy's but he just shrugged. He didn't know any more than she did.

"Rusty cooked," Rusty corrected his brother while pulling a glass baking dish filled with stuffed pasta shells covered in spaghetti sauce and melted mozzarella cheese out of the oven. "Ricky stood around trying to tell me what to do."

"You weren't putting enough ricotta in the shells; I like a lot of ricotta. Mom always puts in extra for me."

Rusty rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I'm not your mommy."

Andy's lips twitched with amusement and he gave Ricky fist pump, he loved a lot of ricotta too. Rusty shook his head at Sharon who smiled; anyone would be hard pressed not to take Andy and Ricky for biological father and son.

"It smells delicious," Andy said, making his way to the kitchen. "We're starving."

"We thought you might be." Ricky grabbed a big wooden bowl full of greens and made his way to the dining room. "I made the salad."

Rusty brought the dish to the table setting it down on a hot plate. "Like I said, Rusty cooked."

"And we appreciate it, both of you." Sharon gave Rusty's shoulder a quick squeeze before sitting down at the table. "Saves us from having to order a pizza." Which, exhausted from their cross-country flight, was exactly what they had planned on doing when they got home.

"Well then, let's eat."

*****

When they finished their meal Andy suggested that he and Rusty do the dishes giving Sharon more precious time with the son who lived 6 hours away and would be leaving the next morning. Ricky took Sharon's left hand eyeing the east-west emerald cut diamond. He saw it in Connecticut but everyone had been fighting to have a look and he had only gotten a quick glance.

"Not bad, Andy, nice work. "

"Oh, well, I can't afford a ring as beautiful as she deserves, but thanks. "

Sharon twisted the band on her finger admiring the way the light played on the diamonds. "This is much more than enough. It's perfect and I love it. Now, do you want to tell me why you skipped out on your flight and stuck around here in LA?" Her worried eyes moved between her two sons. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong. I just wanted to talk to you about the wedding. Have you guys discussed a date yet for the ceremony?" Sharon shook her head in a 'drop the subject' way and rested her hand on his, confusing the hell out of him. "What?"

"Rusty, how about we go out and get some air?" As happy as both he and Sharon were with the idea of getting married, the topic of the wedding itself was a touchy conversation and Andy figured Sharon would like a little privacy with her son.

"Okay, sure." Rusty gave Ricky a look of support as he followed Andy out to the balcony.

"You know, Ricky, we talked about this in Connecticut. There are issues."

"Mom, no, no, no. This is your time to be happy, don't postpone it."

"I am trying to move things forward, but if I want to get married in the Catholic Church. Oh, I don't know." She sat back with a dejected sigh, the pain heavy in her chest.

"I do. That's why I stayed here in LA, and so did Emily. We went to see Father Stan yesterday about an annulment. He said all of Dad's past behavior, the drinking, gambling, disappearing acts; they create an easy straightforward annulment of your first marriage, secured by the bishop."

"And your father is going to have an issue with that."

"Oh, I already talked to him."

"You what?" She couldn't have been more stunned.

"Emily and I got the papers from Father Stan and we brought them over to Dad's place this morning. We walked Dad through the entire thing and we made it abundantly clear that if he wants to continue to have a relationship with us then he has to agree to the annulment."

"And Jack was okay with all that?"

"Oh, he was pissed." Ricky laughed, making light of it. If she knew what really went down it would only upset her and that was the last thing he wanted. "But he agreed to sign a letter of approval, which I have here. He's going to fill out the questionnaire and have it back to me by next week."

"How did you know to go to your father about my annulment?"

"Mom," he took her hands in his. "How can we not know what the church means to you? And how could we not go full out for our mother who gave so much to us."

Sharon sat back with a far-off look, her silence louder than any words.

"Is there something else?" He asked with concern.

"Yes." Her eyes fell on Andy out on the balcony with Rusty. "I am not the only divorced Catholic in this relationship."

"Well Andy's ex-wife remarried, I don't think she'll mind giving him an annulment."

"Moving forward on an annulment of Andy's former marriage has got to be his idea, not mine and certainly not yours." She narrowed her eyes at him, without effect. He just gave the same look back at her, with a little growl. She couldn't help but smile. Just like with Andy, she found it very difficult to stay angry with him.

"Okay then, I can't see him not wanting an annulment, but if for some reason he doesn't, then would you consider getting married outside the church and finally stop letting them dictate who is and isn't your family?"

Sharon shook her head sadly, Ricky just didn't get it. "When I said yes to Andy, it wasn't contingent on either of us getting annulments. I am going to marry him, no matter what, but if I can't do it in the church…." A look of pain filled her eyes and her voice broke. "I will be losing something very precious to me."

"See, that's just it. I don't want you to lose that, Mom, none of us do. I guess we just have to hope that Andy feels the same way."

And that Nicole came through.

*******

"What did she say?" Rusty asked, once Sharon and Andy had gone off to bed and Ricky was preparing the couch with blankets.

"God, I can't wait until Mom and Andy buy a house and I don't have to sleep on the couch anymore."

"Yeah, sorry about that." Rusty always felt guilty when Ricky came home and had to sleep on the couch because he had taken over his bedroom.

"No worries, that's the way it happens. Older kid moves out and younger sib takes his room. Besides, I used to get stuck on the couch when Emily and I were both visiting at the same time anyway. Did you know Mom was supposed to get a three-bedroom condo? Our house sold before the condo was available so she had to take the two-bedroom unit. Didn't think it would be a problem at the time, but I guess she didn't see you in her future."

"Yeah, I'm sure I wasn't part of her life plan. So, come on, what did she say? Was she mad at you?"

"A little, I think. But not as bad as I thought. She seemed more…I don't know, resigned, than anything. It's like she expects this not to work out. I hate that. Nothing in her life ever seems to work out the way she planned or hoped. Even her job. Did you know that when Chief Pope was selling Mom a transfer to take over Major Crimes, he promised to make her Commander? She got the job, but not the promotion."

Rusty snorted. "That doesn't surprise me. Lying is a way of life over there."

"Yeah, well, for once, I'd just like to see her get everything she wants and deserves…completely. I just want her to be happy."

"She will be. I trust Nicole. She'll fix things on her end and then Mom and Andy will both be able to get the ball rolling.

*********

Andy came out of the bathroom in his bathrobe, boxer briefs, and a t-shirt to find Sharon seated, propped up by pillows, on her side of the bed. He paused for a moment to take in the sight of her in one of his favorite shortie pajama sets; a lavender lace-trimmed silk camisole with matching tap pants that were so short they revealed almost all her long, lean legs, which at the moment were drawn up toward her chest. The cream she was rubbing into her arms filled the room with the scent of vanilla and jasmine.

There was something special about seeing her like this in their bed, something he still didn't take for granted. As beautiful as she was during the day, with her hair perfect and her makeup emphasizing her stunning features, having her here in bed like this, with her hair pulled back in a messy bun, her glasses sitting on the nightstand and her face scrubbed clean of makeup he was given the unique privilege of seeing her in a more natural state; the little sprinkle of pale freckles on her nose and cheeks, the clarity of her stunning jade green eyes and the fine laugh lines at the corners of those eyes that deepened when she smiled. It was a side she allowed very few people to see. Even on her days off his lady love didn't as much as run out to the grocery store without being put together. She might be wearing jeans and a t-shirt like everyone else on a day off, but she paired them with nice boots and stylish jackets in leather and suede and always wore at least a touch of makeup. Those Wal-Mart shoppers in the pictures all over the internet were an alien species to her. Even when he'd stayed with her before they were sleeping together while he recovered from his blood clot she had never come out to the breakfast table without having her hair freshly blown dried, her glasses on and her face made up. He'd never thought about it until then, but the way she looked, the way she dressed, it was like another shield for her. Now he was beyond the shield, allowed to see her every vulnerability, but he still remembered what it felt like to be so close to the inner sanctum yet still so far away.

Back when his original injury had turned into a dangerous blood clot in his carotid artery that required constant supervision and he'd moved in with Sharon, they had only been dating for a couple months and hadn't yet had sex. Sharon wanted to take things slow, she wanted an old-fashioned courtship, though to be honest, it felt to him like he'd been courting her for almost two years. Whatever. He understood where she was coming from. One of the best things about Sharon was that she wasn't like the kind of women he usually dated, certainly not the type to hop into bed on the first date. Sex was meaningful for her, it wasn't just about the quick thrill of pleasure, it was about sharing herself with him. It was also the last barrier in their relationship. Once that was gone, it would be complete intimacy and that was scary for her. The baggage she still carried thanks to the way Jack had treated her over the years was still quite heavy and workplace romances could be sticky if they didn't work out. Love had come easily to them; trust was a little harder and had to be earned.

So, by the time he'd moved in…to Rusty's bedroom, they'd had a few heavy make-out sessions, he'd had his hand inside her blouse and one tantalizing time up her skirt, but he had yet to see her naked and they had yet to make love.

And it was killing him. Killing…Him…There he was living in the same condo with her and still denied the pleasure of knowing her in the carnal way of his fantasies, this time, not just because of her hesitance but because he was physically restrained from all that kind of activity. Hell, he wasn't even allowed to cross his legs, whatever that was all about.

He'd lain in Rusty's bed at night, knowing with every fiber of his being, that Sharon was sleeping just across the hall. What was she wearing? What would it feel like to sleep pressed up against her? Did she think about him and touch herself the way he did when he thought about her? Damn. Mentally he knocked himself upside the head. Those were dangerous thoughts. Before the clot, when those kinds of thoughts about Sharon brought him to this state, he could just finish himself off. That was no longer an option now. The last thing he needed was to get the blood rushing and shove that clot right into his brain.

His first morning in the condo, he'd put on his bathrobe and padded across the hall to the bathroom. The shower was running so he knocked. 'Be out in a few minutes,' Sharon called out. Crap….it had to be her in the shower. Yes, his mind went there in an instant. Just on the other side of that door, Sharon Raydor, the object of his desire, stood behind the glass doors of the shower, water sluicing down over her nude body, the body denied to him for so long. If they were lovers, he could walk through that door, slip out of his bathrobe and join her. He could run his soapy hands over her curves, feel the weight of her breasts, tease the springy curls between her thighs. If they were lovers he- 'Andy, just a heads up, she takes a pretty long shower.' Shit, he forgot about the kid. He turned away slightly to hide his hard-on. Rusty was already suspicious enough of him, the last thing he needed was for the boy to see him lusting at the bathroom door over his mother.

Later, it was a relief to learn that Sharon had not been immune to the sexual tension he'd felt. Once he healed and they finally started sleeping together, she admitted that having him in her condo, sleeping in the next room, using her shower, laying on her couch in his pajamas had all stoked a few of her own fantasies, for which she'd gravelly chastised herself knowing that any kind of sexual activity could have been dangerous for him. She also admitted, with an adorable blush, that yes indeed, she did fantasize about him and touch herself, which, Christ Almighty, was one hell of a turn on. Just because she wanted to take things slow didn't mean that she didn't desire him, or that it was any easier for her to hold off until she was ready.

Thankfully, they were beyond all that now. He took his bathrobe off and tossed it over the chair, focusing once again on the woman sitting on the bed now rubbing the cream into her legs. Whatever frustration he felt back then had only made the intimacy between them now all the sweeter. Much, much sweeter.

As he approached the bed and didn't receive even a flicker of interest, it was obvious that she too was a million miles away.

"Hey," he said, sinking into the bed beside her. "Are you still stewing about Ricky going to see Jack about the annulment?"

"Hmm…What?" She turned to him with confusion, pulled out of her thoughts. "No. I told you I was letting it go for the night and I have. Besides, I don't stew."

"Of course you don't." He grinned, leaning over to kiss her bare shoulder. "God, you smell good."

She shivered at the feel of his whisker rough jaw against her skin. "I don't," she insisted. And, thank you."

"You're welcome. So," he continued to nuzzle along her shoulder. "If you aren't stewing about Ricky, what's bothering you?"

"What makes you think something is bothering me?"

He gave her a questioning head tilt, and then just waited her out. Pushing only caused her to retreat but if he waited her out long enough to form her thoughts, he knew she would open up to him. She set the jar of body cream down on the nightstand, and then she surprised him by flipping over and pressing her body up against his. "Andy?" Her fingers began rubbing the extra soft fabric of his sleep t-shirt the way she did when she was nervous about something.

"What is it, babe?" He rested his cheek against the top of her head.

"Does it bother you living here?"

"What?" That wasn't the question he expected.

"Today when you came into the condo, you said 'home sweet home', but I know it can't really feel like home to you. I feel terrible that all your stuff is still in storage."

"We agreed that was for the best, there's no reason to move everything twice."

"I know. I guess when we discussed it I thought we would find a house a lot faster than we have. And I know that I've been a little pickier than-"

"Sharon, stop." He took the hand that was playing with his shirt and brought it up to his lips. "Sometimes I've just wanted us to find our perfect house so much I jump in too quickly and don't always look at the bigger picture. Every time you've put the brakes on you've been right. If it isn't perfect for you or if it isn't perfect for me, then it isn't perfect for us."

"I know. I just feel bad that this place isn't more 'home' for you."

"This place is home for me, sweetheart. Because you're here. I would rather spend the rest of my life with all my stuff in storage, living here with you, then to spend it in a spectacular house surrounded by all of my things without you. You are what makes me feel at home, not my stuff. "

"Oh dammit, there you go again."

"Huh?" His look of confusion was adorable.

"How do you always do that?" She rose up on her elbow, cupped a hand over his cheek and looked down on him, her eyes shiny with tears.

"Do what?" He leaned into her palm.

"Touch me, right here." She took his hand and placed it over her heart. "No one has ever made me feel the way you do, Andy. I love you, so, so much." She bent down to kiss him, moaning against his lips when his hand slipped inside her camisole to cup over her breast. The proximity was just too much to resist. He'd always been a leg man, but breasts were a close second, and with Sharon, he might even call it a tie.

"Love you too," he murmured against her lips. "But, babe, I do have something I need to confess."

"Okay." She grew serious, a slight frown marring her brow. "What's that?"

"I really do miss my pool table."

"Andy!" She shook her head, her laughter muffled into his cheek. "I promise we'll find a house with enough room for your pool table."

"We better, because you still owe me." He let his lips trail down the column of her throat, latching on to the spot where her neck met her shoulder. She purred, her hips growing restless.

"Not my fault we caught a murder." Her breathing grew heavy as he began sliding his thumb over her nipple again and again until it was pebble hard and aching.

"No, but we never finished our game." He pulled her thigh over his hip, thrusting his hardening cock directly into her mound. When her breath caught and she finished the roll on top of him, grinding against his rigid groin, he grinned. He hadn't expected this tonight, figured they would both be too tired. "And I was winning. I had you down to those sexy red lace panties. One more bank shot and I would have been hitting a home run with you on that table."

She gave a sultry laugh. The few dates she'd gone on after her separation had been sober outings with oh so serious men. Being with Andy was different, it was the most fun she'd ever had. He was irreverent and spontaneous and he had a way of cajoling her out of her comfort zone that left her feeling daring and sexy in ways she'd never felt before. "That was the longest trip from Valencia to the PAB I can ever remember."

"You're telling me. You're not the one who had a hard on the entire trip." The whole drive from the valley to LA his mind kept flashing on the vision of Sharon standing in his den in those red bikini panties and nothing else. Just the thought of her bending over his pool table and how he'd planned to claim his victory kept adding fuel to the fire between his legs.

"I think you're exaggerating a little there, but I am glad it was gone by the time we got to the city."

"Yeah, imagine explaining that to Provenza. Well, you see, Sharon and I were at my house playing a game of strip pool." Andy chuckled at the thought. "You know how he always says he's going to die at his desk? Well, that might have sent him right over the edge."

"You might be right," she laughed while closing her hand over the bulge in his briefs, gently caressing and squeezing him.

"Oh, Christ Shar…That's good"

She smiled and gave him one last squeeze before pulling his underwear down to release him. When her hand closed around the bare warm skin of his thick shaft, his eyes rolled back in his head.

"Seems like you still have that problem." Letting him go for the moment, she reached over into her nightstand searching around for the trusty little bottle.

"What?" he asked when she frowned.

"I can't find the lubricant."

He chuckled softly despite the pressure between his legs. He always thought it was cute that she hated the word 'lube'. "It's usually right there in the front."

"I know. Oh, never mind. I can take care of it myself."

A jolt of pure lust ran from his spine to the tip of his penis at that declaration. He knew what was coming …and that it was pure heaven. Holding his breath he watched as Sharon bent her head and began pressing tiny little kisses along his cock. His buttocks clenched involuntarily each time she flicked her tongue over the head, his eyes closing so he could savor the sweet sensations of her tongue running up and down his length, her fingers caressing and teasing his tight heavy balls. So lost was he in the exquisite sensations that when she finally slid her mouth fully over him he gave a deep guttural groan of surprise and arched off the bed. She paused, looking up at him with alarm.

"Shit. Sorry." He glanced toward the bedroom door. Her two sons were just on the other side. "We really do have to buy a new house." He grabbed a pillow to show her he had his groans under control and she continued to go down on him. Watching Sharon sliding her mouth up and down his cock was so erotic it was all he could do to keep from coming.

"Taylor…Turner…Bellinger…Puig…."

Sharon hummed with a soft laugh against him. It was the Dodgers batting order and that meant Andy was getting close. She'd be more than happy to finish him off knowing that he'd reciprocate, but chances were tonight he 'd be so tired he'd fall asleep once he was sated and her own body was thrumming for release. So, she let him slip from her mouth.

He was about to protest when she bent for one last kiss to lick away the little pearl drop at the tip, a move that always drove him a little crazy. His voice husky, he pled with her. "Shar…don't stop…"

"Oh, honey, we're not done yet." She gave him a wicked grin and slowly began sliding her sexy French knickers down over her hips and thighs, her cami up over her head. His hands immediately reached up to cup over her breasts, as she'd known they would. After a few moments of kneading the soft mounds, he gently tugged her closer for better access to her chest. His tongue snaked out to flick over her nipple the way his thumbs had earlier and when he sucked the hard rosy peak into his mouth she threw her head back with a soft plea of her own. The gentle ache between her legs grew to a fevered throb and she took his penis, now stiff and ready, and slid it up and down her warm wet cleft, shivering each time he passed over her clit.

"Sharon." Her name came out strangled, filled with a desire that never ceased to amaze her. She continued to slide him back and forth, once, twice, then teased him at her opening, allowing his tip to enter her then removing him again and again until they were both panting with the unrequited need that was only one tantalizing slide away. Positioning herself for it, Sharon placed her hands on Andy's shoulders and bent her head to press her lips against his. He could taste himself on her tongue and deepened the kiss at the same moment she slid her knees wide allowing him to penetrate her all the way to his balls, her cry of pleasure caught in his mouth. They stayed that way for a few moments, hearts pounding, both close to the edge. Then, without withdrawing, Andy rolled her over, pulled her long leg up over his back and began the deep, long, slow thrusts she liked to get started with. It didn't take long to bring her up to his level of arousal, in fact, he'd barely begun when she started whimpering against his shoulder, shoving her hips into his and digging her nails into his butt in an effort to pull him deeper.

"Andy…Andy…Andy…." His name was a plea. She couldn't form a coherent thought but he knew her well enough now to know exactly what she was begging for… and complied. Gripping her luscious ass in his palms, he pulled her up tight against him and began the deep frantic thrusts that quickly sent them both over the edge, her sheath squeezing and contracting around him while he ejaculated with a deep groan of utter bliss. Completely spent they collapsed together in a tangle of arms and legs, hearts pounding and bodies rippling with the aftershocks of their orgasms.

Coming back from the bathroom after cleaning Andy from her and sticking a panty liner in her underwear to catch the rest of his leakage, Sharon paused at her nightstand and began rooting around inside. Finally, way at the back of the drawer, she found the bottles that had been right in the front.

"Found it," she said, lifting the bottle of 'uberlube' with triumph.

"Hmm?"

She was right. Andy was already almost asleep. It was so much easier for a man to clean up after sex than a woman.

"I found the lubricant. I just don't know why it was way in the back of the drawer. We used it right before we left and it was right in front."

"Come to bed, sweetheart," he sleepily patted the spot beside him. "I don't think Goldilocks has been in our bed."

"No, I suppose not." Sharon slipped into bed beside him. But she still couldn't shake the feeling that someone had been messing around in her drawers…and with her lube.

There she said it.

Lube.

Ugh. It still sounded like something out of a porn movie.

TBC

#sharon raydor #andy flynn #shandy #Major Crimes #saying good-bye to yesterday

[taexual]

I Want Desire [5] / Mark x Reader

OTHER PARTS: 01 - Got7 Mafia AU / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 - The End

Mark’s tantalizing looks and hurtful comments get the best of you, and you finally choose to take a step that might guarantee you freedom from the Tuans. But the most unlikely person of all is the one who attempts to make you regret taking this step.

Pairing: Mafia AU!Mark x Reader

Warnings: strong language, angst

Words: 5.8k

I tagged those of you – well the most, anyway – who requested a part five at the bottom of the chapter. Hope you enjoy! X

Just like you did almost every day ever since you moved into the Tuan house, you’ve been avoiding Mark again after the incident at the bar. Though usually, your avoiding wasn’t very successful. This time, however, it almost seemed as if Mark was avoiding you, too.

Adam, on the other hand, despite all the drama that happened at the bar, continued to stay in touch with you, texting every once in a while to check up. Talking to him was truly a breath of fresh air because you weren‘t obligated to reply to him right away and you could stop talking to him altogether if you felt like it. This wasn‘t serious.

Or so you thought.

           ADAM: “So what color is your dress to the ball? I’m trying to choose a tie, ha x”

You didn’t know why but you felt your stomach sink at these words. Maybe a small part of you had hoped that things would take a turn for the better and you wouldn’t actually have to go to the ball with Adam, but from the looks of it, you had no other potential dates.

           Y/N: “Light blue. Don’t worry though, anything you wear is fine :)”

Grace had found the dress for you. She sent you a picture yesterday and you said you liked it, so she bought it for you in hopes that it’d fit. Thankfully, it did. Sure, maybe it was a little too long, but you were going to wear heels, so the length wasn’t going to be the problem.

The real problem with the ball was that you didn’t want to go there. Adam, however nice he was, wasn’t your type at all. He sure looked like a bad boy, but he was a total softie. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, it’s just that Adam’s sweetness borderlined on monotony. He was almost boring. He said the same things over and over again. He agreed with everything you said. He always let you walk first and was almost ready to lie down on the pavement so you wouldn’t have to step into a puddle.

He was the ideal guy for someone out there. But not for you.

You realized with a pang that maybe, after getting so used to the drama Mark brought into your life, you could no longer live a simple life. You craved trepidation. Excitement. Anxiety, even.

A sudden knock on your door woke you up from your dream world.

“It’s open!” you called out, standing up from the bed and fixing your jeans.

“Hey.”

There was the aforementioned anxiety that you had thought you craved. Mark brought it with him whenever he went. And now he was in your room. And so was the anxiety.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, realizing that you’ve successfully avoided him for two and a half days. That must have been one of the new records.

“I came to talk,” Mark said.

“Did Grace put you up to this?”

He laughed suddenly. “No, trust me, if my sister found out I was here, she’d have my head.”

“Is this worth the risk, then?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Well, I really hope so,” Mark replied and for the first time in your life, you saw him look somewhat close to uncomfortable. He was always so confident in himself. “Listen, uh, I kind of realized something.”

“Good for you.”

He squinted his eyes at you but didn’t say anything to this comment.

“The thing that I did the other day… that wasn’t very nice of me,” Mark continued, looking away from you.

“Which thing?” you asked, standing your ground. “I’m sorry but you’re going to have more specific.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath before raising his eyes to meet yours again. “I came here to apologize.”

“Oh, I gathered that. But for what?”

Mark rolled his eyes, hoping you wouldn’t see this. You did.

“I think it’s obvious for what,” he said.

“I think it’s not,” you countered.

You didn’t know why you were pulling his strings like that. He came to apologize – that already was more than enough for you to actually forgive him. And yet, you weren’t letting him get off that easy. It must have been Grace and her constant words of encouragement. If it weren’t for her, there was no way in hell you’d stand here, glaring at Mark, while he tried not to let his temper overcome him.

“You’re playing hard-to-get,” Mark said then, giving in to his real self. “But I think you’re forgetting that I already have you. You’re my wife. Don’t make this marriage harder than it needs to be.”

Your jaw clenched at this accusation.

“Somehow, you always throw our marriage in my face in hopes of winning the argument,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “But guess what, Mark? I actually tried to make this work. You’re the one who wasn’t ready to accept your role as my husband.”

“You know what? I’m glad I wasn’t. Because now that I came to apologize, you started to act like a fucking bitch to me.”

Despite your cold appeal, his words still hurt. They hurt almost as much as the time he told you he didn’t expect that by “fucking you,” he’d be obligated to take you to Uchida’s ball.

“I’m glad, too,” you finally said, suddenly desperately wanting to hurt him as much as he hurt you. “Because, frankly, you’re full of shit. Fucking is the only thing you know how to do and that’s still debatable.”

That seemed to do it.

Normally, Mark was brilliant at hiding his real feelings. His eyes always looked reserved and you never knew what secrets lied behind them. Now, however, surprise was prominent in his eyes, as his lips slightly parted in shock.

And then, his lips formed into a smile and he started to laugh. You frowned at the range of emotions he just went through.

“That’s a good one, gotta give it to you, Y/n,” he said, his tone suddenly intimidating. “How long did it take you to think of this comeback? A week?”

If at first, you were almost excited to show him his place, now you were beyond done.

Turning your back to him, you snarled, “Fuck off, Mark.”

He laughed again.

“Try harder next time, baby,” he said. “And maybe one day your words will mean something to me.”

“That’s funny. I thought you came here to apologize.”

“I changed my mind.”

You were fuming now. You just wanted him out of your room but you knew that if you said something to that, he’d find what to reply, making sure he walked out as the winner of this fight, while you stayed here, angry at him and at yourself. So you stayed quiet and patiently waited for him to leave quietly.

Mark stayed for a few more minutes, expecting you to reply something but eventually, he realized that you weren’t going to talk to him anymore. Sighing loudly and rolling his eyes, although you weren’t looking at him, he walked out of the bedroom, after loudly slamming the door closed.

Almost as soon as Mark left your room, you found yourself knocking on his father’s door. You’ve had enough. You wanted out.

“Y/n?” his father opened the door, not hiding his surprise to see you. “Is there anything I could help you with?”

“Actually, yes,” you said and then took a deep breath. It was now or never. “I have something important to tell you. Do you have time?”

“Uh, yes, of course,” Mr. Tuan said, opening the door of his office wider to let you in. He was about to close the door of his office when he saw something and stopped. “Mark! Son, come here!”

Oh, lord.

After Mark’s attempt to apologize turned into another fight (what a shocker), he no longer bothered to avoid you. Whenever you ran into him, you’d glare, showing him that you still very much hated him, and he would smile like the piece of shit that he was, letting you know that he knew what an effect he had on your emotions.

Naturally, you tried not to turn to look at him, but that didn’t stop Mark from acknowledging you.

“What is she doing in your office?” he asked his father.

“That is none of your business,” his father replied. “Will you come find me after Y/n leaves? I have something I need to discuss with you.”

“Sure,” Mark replied. “But why is she—”

“Thank you,” Mr. Tuan said and then closed the door before Mark could finish his sentence.

Huh. So Mark must have gotten his attitude from his father.

Mr. Tuan pointed at a chair opposite from his desk and you nodded quickly before sitting down on it, while he walked around the desk and sat down in front of you.

“What can I help you with, dear?” he asked you.

You were forced to remember that, although he was the head of the Tuan Mafia family, he was also really sweet to you. Maybe this would go better than you expected, after all.

“I’m going to save both of our times and get right to the point,” you said. “I don’t think my marriage to Mark is working and therefore, I think it should be annulled.”

Mr. Tuan watched you for a moment and then leaned back in his chair, looking at the ceiling and obviously thinking about something.

“Why do you say that?” he finally asked you.

“There are actually multiple reasons,” you replied. “But the strongest argument against this marriage that I have was discovered recently. Do you remember the Uchida deal that you asked Grace and me to handle?”

“Yes, of course,” Mr. Tuan nodded, looking at you again. “You handled it very well, by the way. I’m proud of you both.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly and then cleared your throat before continuing. “Well, after we signed the documents with Uchida, he invited Grace and me to the ball.”

“Oh, right. Grace mentioned that.”

“Right. Well, he invited us with dates. Now, obviously—”

“Mark said he wasn’t going to go, didn’t he?”

“He—yes,” you said, surprised to learn how fast he caught on.

“Is that the strong argument you’ve mentioned before?” Mr. Tuan asked, not even trying to hide the skepticism in his voice.

You realized this wasn’t going to be as easy as it may have seemed a moment ago.

Taking a deep breath, you continued. “That’s not everything. Uchida, if I’m allowed to say, took a liking to me. I’d have to be a fool not to notice the way he talked to me. I was rather uncomfortable at the meeting but I like to think that I handled it professionally.

“I don’t want to go to his ball,” you said. “But I know I have to go. The fact that the ball is to celebrate the deal is just the tip of the iceberg. Our appearance at the ball is just as important for our deal to actually work out. Now, I know I could go alone, of course. But, like I said, Uchida makes me uncomfortable.

“So, I called Mark, because, well, he’s my husband,” you said, choosing to skip on the fact that the two of you had sex which lead you to believe that there may have been something more between you two. “I thought that despite our differences, we’d finally have a chance to truly bond at this ball. He said no immediately and followed up with an abundance of other insults that I will not name because I respect you too much. Long story short, Mark was the one who lead me to believe that this marriage will not work out. So, I feel like I’m wasting all of our times. Clearly, I’m not the one for him.”

This time, Mr. Tuan wasn’t as quick to reply. He considered your words for a few minutes before he spoke again.

“Have you told Mark how you feel?”

“With all due respect, I don’t think Mark is the type of person to talk about feelings,” you said, almost laughing at the absurd thought of giving Mark the satisfaction to know that he hurt you.

“Why not? He was a really sensitive child when he was growing up,” Mr. Tuan said.

“Uh, Mark and I found ourselves in a different situation after we had that talk on the phone,” you said slowly. “He… He caused a scene when I brought up the words that he said to me.”

“I see,” Mark’s father hummed. “Well, this is certainly a tough situation. But are you sure there’s no way to solve this? Maybe if the two of you talked—”

“We tried,” you cut in. “He came into my room just this morning. It all ended with another argument and, to be honest, I really had enough of them.”

Mr. Tuan sighed, then. “Well, alright then. I can’t say anything right now, but I promise you I’ll consider what to do about this. Trust me, Y/n, this family wants what’s best for you and if you’re really unhappy here… well, then maybe it would truly be better for us to let you go.”

A pang of excitement sprung in your chest and you had to restrain yourself from smiling.

“Say, have you found whom to go to the ball with, after all?” Mr. Tuan asked you then. “I wouldn’t want you to be alone around Uchida.”

“Uh, yeah, Grace set me up with one of her friends,” you said. “He’ll be my date.”

“Good, good,” he nodded. “Well, try to have fun there. I’ll give you my answer after the ball”

“Okay,” you said. “Thank you very much for taking your time to listen to me.”

“Oh, it’s not a problem. You’re family, Y/n,” Mr. Tuan said, standing up from his desk. You stood up, too. “It would be really sad to see you leave us.”

“I can guarantee that I wouldn’t forget you,” you said with a small smile.

“We wouldn’t forget you, either,” he replied.

You felt much better after you exited his office. He gave you real hope that perhaps your life wasn’t over. Perhaps you could still leave all of this behind and continue somewhere else.

“Y/n,” Grace told you as the two of you were in her bathroom, getting your hair and make-up done for the ball that was supposed to take place in two hours. “Did you and Mark have another fight?”

“Why do you ask?” you inquired as you tried to wrap a strand of your hair around the curling iron.

“I didn’t see you in the same room at first. Hell, the two of you weren’t even on the same floor at the same time ever since we got home from the bar that night,” Grace explained. “And now all of a sudden, you’re around each other again.”

“Trust me, I’d rather not be around him,” you sighed.

“What happened?”

You told her the story about how Mark’s apology turned upside down after you simply asked him what he was apologizing for.

“I’m proud of you for standing your ground,” Grace said, once you finished talking. “But, I must admit, it did take enormous courage for Mark to approach you like that. I don’t think he’s ever apologized to me before. And he’s my brother.”

“He didn’t apologize to me, either. He was just going to but he didn’t get there.”

“Because you didn’t let him.”

You stopped curling your hair and turned to look at her. “Are you defending him right now? I mean, I know he’s your family, but I thought—”

“I’m not defending him,” Grace interrupted you quickly. “You’re my family, too, and we don’t treat family like shit.”

You swallowed, looking away from her.

This was the second time a Tuan has called you their family. First, it was Mark & Grace’s father. Now it was Grace herself. You had no idea how you were going to tell her that you were planning to leave this house for good. She was the closest to a best friend you’ve ever had and you knew you’d break her heart if you told her you were thinking about leaving.

“Y/n,” Grace said, waving a hand in front of your face. “You okay?”

“Sorry, what?” you asked, blinking your eyes and returning to reality.

“You dozed off. What were you thinking about?” she asked.

“The ball,” you lied. “And how much I don’t want to go there.”

Grace groaned. “You’ve already said that a million times. Come on, let’s go. It’s time to dress up. Our dates should be here in about an hour.”

You sighed, following her out of the bathroom. Grace was going to wear a pantsuit but she insisted you wear a dress because, according to her, you made everyone go dizzy when you wore dresses. Even if the dress you chose for the ball was not in the slightest bit revealing.

After changing into the outfits for the ball, both of you added some finishing touches to your makeup and took the obligatory selfie before the big event.

“You look really good, Y/n,” Grace told you. “Please cheer up.”

“This is not a happy occasion for me,” you said, sighing.

“I know, but try to have fun,” she asked. “Adam’s going to be really upset if you keep sulking the whole night. I mean, it’s not your fault you’re upset, but… just try, okay?”

You almost groaned when you heard her mention Adam, but somehow you nodded and headed to the mirror to zip your dress up. Grace was coming to help you but then the door of her room shot open and she jumped away from you in shock.

“Grace, where the fuck is Y/n—?” Mark growled as he stormed into the room.

He froze, however, as soon as his eyes connected with yours. His gaze slid down the baby blue dress that adorned your body and you saw him gulp.

“I’m right here,” you said, already preparing for a yet another inevitable fight.

For a few more seconds, it seemed as though he physically wasn’t able to get a word out. He just watched you in shock, his eyes desperately locked on yours, as if he was trying to transmit a signal to you via mind power.

“So?” you asked, raising your eyebrows, not really understanding what caused his systems to glitch like that.

“I, uh—nevermind,” Mark finally said, shaking his head. “You’re on your way to the ball?”

Choosing not to fall for his fake niceness again, you kept your tone cold. “No, I decided I’ll be strutting around the house in evening gowns from now on.”

You heard Grace – who was watching the entire scene in silence – snicker at this, and even Mark smiled a little. What the hell?

“You need any help?” he asked, swallowing visibly.

“No, we’re good,” you replied.

“Actually,” Grace interjected. “I need to head out for a few minutes right now because of… reasons. Mark, would you mind zipping Y/n’s dress up for her?”

Your eyes widened as you turned to look at Grace in utter shock. She was totally throwing you to the wolves on purpose!

She gave you a small smile and then exited the room, winking at you once she was out of Mark’s visual field and he couldn’t see her anymore. You tried to play it cool but you knew you were going to have to come up with a way to get your payback.

Still shocked, you turned to look at Mark, who was standing there awkwardly, not sure what to do with himself.

“Why were you looking for me?” you asked him, as you turned to look in the mirror, ready to attempt to zip up your dress yourself.

“Oh, we’ll talk about that later,” he said as you frowned at this.

Then, you saw his reflection appear in the mirror and a few moments later, felt his cold hands on your lower back as he tried to take the zipper from you to help you.

“You don’t have to—” you started to say but he stayed, grabbing the zipper and slowly pulling it up.

He watched your dress adjust to your body in the mirror and his movements were almost monotonous. Physically, he was there, helping you put your dress on, but mentally, he was in a different world as he watched the way your dress enhanced your best features and highlighted your glowing face.

“There, uh…” he started to say but then stumbled over his own words due to his dry throat. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, not able to say it louder for some reason.

As you turned around to face him, you made the mistake of looking into his eyes, the same secretive ones. Only now they looked deep in thought. You were opening your mouth to say something, but Grace’s voice from downstairs beat you to it.

“Y/n!” she yelled. “Come down, Adam’s here!”

As you watched something similar to pain flash behind Mark’s eyes, you started to wonder who the fuck was Adam.

Oh, right.

You looked away from Mark, clearing your throat and walking around him to pick your purse from Grace’s bed up. Not knowing what to say, you glanced at Mark one more time, and exited the bedroom, heading down the stairs to see your date for the ball, while your husband helplessly watched you leave just like he did the time in the bar.

Needless to say, Uchida was the first person who greeted you and Adam at the door of his residence. He quickly shook Adam’s hand and then placed a lingering kiss on yours, while you tried to smile through clenched teeth.

After he finally let you enter the ball, you and Adam exchanged relieved looks.

“Uchida has quite a crush on you,” he said.

Despite what you told Mr. Tuan hours ago, you shook your head. “He’s just being gallant.”

“He’s watching you right now.”

Instinctively, you turned your head to meet Uchida’s eyes, while people walked all around him, a little upset that the host didn’t greet them. Quickly turning away, you sighed.

“Let’s get some drinks,” you said, knowing very well that you’d really need some alcohol in your system to endure this night.

And yet, the bigger part of your brain – the responsible part – only allowed you to have one glass of champagne, which, of course, didn’t calm you down at all. If anything, the slight intoxication caused you even more discomfort.

“You look like you’re really annoyed to be here,” Adam commented the same thing for the fifth time as he watched you give fake smiles to your other business acquaintances.

“I am,” you replied for the fifth time. “But I have to be here, no matter how much I don’t like—Mr. Uchida!”

“I was just making my way over to you to let you know that you look fantastic tonight, Miss Tuan!” Uchida said, giving you a sleazy smile as he tried to keep his balance. He was clearly already drunk.

“It’s actually Mrs. Tuan,” you reminded him again, smiling awkwardly.

“Oh, right, right, of course,” Uchida nodded and then turned to Adam. “You must be the husband of this lovely lady, then?”

“No, actually—”

Adam didn’t get to finish because a loud crash somewhere near the kitchens caused everyone to turn their attention to the source of the noise.

“What on Earth—” Uchida started to say but then a drunk, red-haired figure appeared from the kitchen, walking right into a nearby wall, pushing a waiter that was passing by and forcing him to drop the tray with champagne glasses. “Who is that?!”

You closed your eyes, immediately recognizing the drunk figure.

“That’s… my husband,” you said. “Would you excuse me?”

Both Uchida and Adam watched you walk down the venue. You were the only person in the hall of over two hundred people who was moving. Everyone else was frozen. Even Mark who kept swearing at the waiter who already looked like he was about to cry.

“Mark!” you yelled in order to get his attention.

He slowly raised his head to look at you and smiled once recognition dawned on him. “Y/n! I was looking all over for you!”

“In the kitchen?” you asked, trying not to start screaming and attract even more attention, although the entire ballroom was already looking at you, anyway. “Why are you here, Mark?”

“I need to talk to you about something,” he said, trying to walk around the waiter who was on the floor, picking up the broken pieces of glass.

Mark was extremely drunk. You had no idea how many drinks he consumed in order to reach this state but it had to be a lot. A whole lot because when you saw him almost two hours ago, he was sober.

He ended up pushing the waiter again as he tried to walk closer to you.

“Mark, for the love of God, just stop walking,” you said. “You can barely stand on your feet. Look at what you’ve done!”

The waiter moved away from him, trying to place the broken glasses on the tray. A few other waiters hurried to help him and soon, you felt people start whispering as they gave you and Mark unpleased looks.

“Carry on, everyone!” Uchida shouted across the ballroom. “Please, have some drinks! Dance!”

You sighed, hearing hurried steps behind you and knowing that Uchida was already coming towards you.

“What is going on here?!” Uchida’s angry voice asked when he, as expected, appeared by your side.

“Who is this?” Mark asked, squinting his eyes at the shorter man. “Are you the sly fucking bastard who keeps harassing—”

“Mark!” you shouted, cutting him off. You turned to look at Uchida then. “He’s going through a lot right now, forgive him, please.”

Uchida instantly softened once you looked at him. “I understand, but he needs to leave. I’m sorry.”

“No, of course. I’ll walk him out,” you nodded, smiling one more time and staring at Uchida until he took the hint and walked away, leaving you to handle Mark alone.

“Are you insane? If you blow this deal, your father will kill you!” you whisper-yelled.

“I thought the deal was already made,” Mark said, not realizing how loud he spoke when he was drunk.

“This ball is to ensure that Uchida doesn’t decide to break the deal off when we invest in his properties,” you whispered harshly. “Now get out of here, Mark. Leave before you cause any more damage.”

“Y/n?” Grace’s confused voice was heard on your other side.

You swore you were never happier to see anyone. Grace would know what to do. She’d know how to get Mark to leave.

“Thank God you’re here, Grace,” you said, watching her approach you and Mark. “We need to get him to leave.”

“I’m not leaving!” Mark yelled, forcing the people to give you looks again. “I came here to talk and I will do that!”

“Shhh, Mark, what the hell?” Grace asked, frowning at her brother, before turning to you. “Is he drunk?”

“Very,” you confirmed. “He says he came here to talk to me.”

“You can talk to her later, Mark,” Grace said, grabbing his arm. “Let’s go. You’re leaving.”

“I already told you, I’m not going anywhere!” Mark said, roughly getting his hand out of Grace’s grip. “Y/n, where’s that motherfucker that came here with you? I have a few words to tell him, too.”

In all honesty, you had no idea where Adam was and he was the least of your worries right now. If Mark wouldn’t leave, this entire ball would be a bust. You would have suffered through half of it for nothing. No, you couldn’t let that happen.

“Mark,” you said quietly, trying a different approach. “Please just leave. We’ll talk at home.”

“We’ll talk here!” Mark insisted. “Why the fuck did you tell my father you were leaving?”

You felt your stomach sink instantly. Even Grace raised her eyebrows at this and turned to look at you.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you told Mark. “Go. Please.”

“I won’t go unless you come with me,” Mark said strictly.

“God, Mark. Now is not the time to be childish,” Grace said angrily, momentarily forgetting about his previous statement. “Do you want me to taser him?”

Sighing, you shook your head. “No. He already caused a big enough scene. I’ll just take him home.”

“Are you sure?” Grace asked, looking at you with concern.

“Yeah,” you said. “We’ll find a cab.”

“Okay,” she said. “Be careful, yeah? And… please don’t make any rash decisions, okay?”

Your stomach twisted again. You knew exactly what rash decisions she had in mind and you were starting to feel guilty about talking to her father before talking to her.

Nodding slowly, you grabbed Mark’s arm and pulled him towards the door of the ballroom. This time, he moved with no problem, still stumbling a little, but not fighting you anymore.

“Oh, almost forgot,” you stopped suddenly and turned to look at Grace. “Tell Adam I’m sorry, okay?”

Mark groaned at the mention of Adam’s name and tugged your arm, trying to get you out of here faster.

“Where is he?” Grace asked you.

“I don’t know,” you replied, looking at the few small crowds of people nearby. “Find him for me, please.”

“Okay, I will,” Grace nodded. “Stay safe.”

You gave her a nod back and slowly walked out of Uchida’s mansion with Mark holding on to you as if you were the one who could fall after tripping over a pebble.

A taxi driver pulled up as soon as he saw a pair of people exit the mansion and you pulled Mark into the cab first, climbing in after him.

You weren’t going to lie, you were really glad that you managed to escape the ball, but you still feared that Uchida might change his mind about the deal now that Mark ruined the night.

Sighing, you turned your head to look at your husband and were startled to learn that he was leaning his head on the headrest of the backseat, watching you intensely.

You turned away, not ready to talk to him after everything that happened today, and stared out of the window instead, feeling Mark’s piercing gaze that didn’t leave your face the whole trip back home.

When you managed to get Mark out of the taxi and into the bed in his bedroom, you felt exhausted. At least, he wasn’t fighting you anymore. He wasn’t even talking, he just allowed you to lie him down in his bed.

As soon as you took his shoes off, all while not able to believe that you were actually doing this for him when you knew that he’d never treat you this way, you stood up and placed a blanket over him.

“Sleep, okay?” you said. “You’re going to have a killer hangover tomorrow. Prepare for that.”

Mark just watched you, like he did in the taxi, and you were starting to fear that the alcohol messed with his brain big time and he was now left literally speechless. Sighing, you chose to let him sleep it off, and were about to leave his bedroom when he grabbed your hand.

“Please stay,” he said in a small voice.

Surprised, you turned around to see a different expression in his deceitful eyes. Desperation.

“What did you say?” you asked, unsure if you heard him correctly.

“I’m sorry,” Mark continued, his eyes still not leaving yours. “I’m sorry about the way I treated you. I’m sorry about everything.”

Your heart was now beating against your ribcage so loud, you were sure the people sleeping in nearby rooms could hear it. Mark was truly apologizing to you.

The initial shock you felt faded off when you realized that he was drunk. He didn’t mean any of that.

“Sleep,” you said again with a sigh. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

“No, Y/n,” Mark said, squeezing your hand that he still hadn’t let go. “I broke Grace’s mirror. And I think I broke the door of her closet, too.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “What? Why?!”

“Because you left and I didn’t tell you how much I wanted you to stay,” he said. “I was angry.”

“At me?”

“At myself. So, I had a few drinks,” he said, swallowing.

“That’s an understatement,” you replied. “You’re absolutely wasted, Mark.”

“No, I’m not,” he disagreed. “I’m just a little dizzy, but I’ll be okay, I promise. Listen… why did you tell my father you were leaving?”

You didn’t want to talk about this when he was drunk. Though you were sure you still weren’t going to want to talk about this when he was sober, either.

Deciding that you’d get this over with right now and would ignore him if he wanted to talk to you about this once he sobered up, you sat down on his bed next to him.

“We’re not going to work out,” you said. “You don’t even like me.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked as he watched you intensely.

You almost laughed. “Mark, you insult me whenever we talk. You treat me like absolute shit. I’m pretty sure that proves that you basically hate me. In fact, we probably wouldn’t even be talking about this if you weren’t drunk.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. Somehow, apologies rolled off his intoxicated tongue really easily. “I’m sorry I made it seem that way.”

“Made it seem?” you asked. “Don’t act like you’re just pretending not to like me.”

“I’m not,” Mark said. “I made it seem that way because I didn’t know what to do.”

“What to do with what?”

“With my feelings,” he said, making you even more confused. “I’ve never had them before. I don’t know how they work. I don’t know what people are supposed to do with them.”

“So, you expressed your feelings by acting crazy. Okay, then. I’m not entirely sure what feelings you’re talking about here, though,” you said, naively expecting him to explain what his drunk mind was making him say.

“My feelings,” Mark said. “I think I acted crazy because I love you.”

Your breath, all words, and even your heartbeat escaped you all of a sudden. You couldn’t do anything but watch him as he released your hand and instead brought it to gently caress your face.

“Please don’t leave me,” he said quietly. “I promise I’ll try to be better for you.”

This is purely fictional. Real-life people are in no way connected to the characters in this story. The characters have no relation to their real-life selves, either.

@kpopgrrl09 @blackmaylovesfries @ heart-soul-mind @ m-neko-chaan @madison-wants-to-die @fantasyinmyworld-blog @zafi2001 @bammiesmysoulmate

#got7 #got7 mafia au #i want desire #got7 reactions #got7 fanfiction #got7 imagines #got7 scenarios #got7 fanfic #kpop reactions #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #got7 angst #mark tuan #got7 mark #got7 mark fanfiction #mark tuan fanfiction

[ifreakinglovewritingsomuch]

Hannigram AU / Broken Heart (Part Three)

Paring: Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham Plot: Lecter. Hannibal Lecter. Agent 007 of the MI6, with the license to kill, a playboy and the only person that can save the world from the “Red Dragon”. But to archive that he has to work together with, Will Graham, whose heart he broke years ago. JamesBond!AU Warning: Violence Words: 1128 Part One/Two…*

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to continue but finally here a new chapter.!!!! A big thank you to everyone who reads it!! <3

Hannibal tried again and again, but he just couldn’t wrap his head around it. He had to sleep alone. Most of the time people acted as if they were hard to get, but at the end of the day, he would always get them into his bed. And until yesterday it hadn't been any different with Will. What did change? Was he really still mad that the older left those years ago? Will knew what he was agreeing too. Lecter was an agent, not someone to settled down and adopted five dogs. He needed a challenge in life and he loved what he is doing. But Will really seemed to take the whole thing personally and Hannibal hadn't been able to get into his pants. He had tried everything. Hell. They even had champagne. Normally, his charm would have worked and gotten him a pleasurable night. But as it was getting late Will just excused himself, going to sleep.

Maybe the younger had problems down there, that would be a more realistic explanation, than rejecting Hannibal Lecter. I mean he was the Hannibal Lecter, agent, playboy and if he would be a star, probably sexiest man alive.

 "How did you sleep?" Even though his pride was still hurt, Hannibal wasn’t going to give up that fast, he smirked at Will, who joined him on the balcony.

"Good." Was short answer he got and the younger totally ignored the fact that the agent had unbuttoned his whole shirt, which hung loosely around his torso, showing his bare chest. How was that even possible? That had always made Will break?

Frowning Lecter followed the younger who was getting inside and they discussed their today's mission, or more like Hannibal's mission. He decided to take a look at the company, while Will had to stay inside so no one could try to murder him again. Of course, the younger wasn’t really fond of being left behind, but Hannibal didn’t leave him a choice, threating to cuff him to the bed if he was stubborn.

Lecter had never had any problems with getting inside somewhere, no matter if undercover or not. He just decided to play the postman. No one would pay attention to him and he had access to literally all departments. Pushing the cart with the packages and letters he moved through the halls, checking every room, looking for some office. Even though Will had explained a lot yesterday, Hannibal didn't quite know what exactly he was looking for. Dolarhyde was good at hiding his evil plans, but he definitely wasn' better than England's top agent.

>Chairman Frederick Chilton< That's definitely something to start with. It didn't take the agent longed to unlock the door, with one of Q's gadgets...let's call it multifunctional key. Trying to get as little attention as possible he sneaked into the office. Like he had thought. A neatly organized desk and the folders were mostly locked away.

Hannibal was about to open one of the small cabinets, when he heard footsteps coming closer, quickly he turned off the light and closed the door, before hiding behind the desk. Unfortunately, the person stopped right in front of the door, and he could hear them searched for keys, before opening the door. He would definitely get caught. The agent decided to just overcome them and then leave the building quickly. Dangerous but his only option, especially if the person was Mr Chilton himself.

He jumped up and grabbed the person, making sure they weren’t able to scream. But the brown locks were quite familiar.

"Will?" He released the smaller man, looking at him surprised.

"Damn it, Hannibal!" The younger cursed, rubbing his neck, were Hannibal had grabbed him.

“Why did you come? I told you not to. It’s dangerous.” The agent failed to understand Will. The man was nearly killed yesterday and still, he followed Hannibal.

“What are you my mum now?” Will grumbled, not up to take order's from the other.

"I mean if you're into that..."

"Seriously!" Will groaned, hitting the taller, who only chuckled.

"I always thought I knew all your kinks."

"Can you stop talking about that now?" Will complained, blushing slightly. "That definitely is not professional."

"It's not the first time that I discuss such a topic while working."

"I'm disgusted but not surprised." The younger mumbled, turning away to search for the files because Hannibal didn't seem to be up to it.

"Come on! Why are you so closed off?" Hannibal couldn't leave it any longer, he wanted to know why he was getting rejected. "When it is about kinks we can discuss it."

"Hannibal, no..."

"Okay but I don't think it's because I wasn't good enough in bed."

"Hannibal..."

"Do you suddenly have some sexuality crisis?" The agent guessed.

"Hannibal! It's because you left." The younger snapped. He turned around to face the agent, who was surprised at the outburst.

"And...?"

"Not everyone is an emotionless robot like you." Will mumbled, but the disgust was visible in his voice.

"You had actual feelings for me," Hannibal observed, surprised. "I broke your heart."

"Woah..." The younger clapped sarcastically. "You really are the best agent, no one could have solved this faster than you." Hannibal didn't answer he was still too startled by the realisation. Will had really loved him. They all somehow do, but also not really. Not enough to stay. Not that he ever wanted an actual relationship, since he lost his wife. He wouldn't lose someone he loves again.

"What a shame then." He suddenly said, hiding all the emotions that were confusing him.

"We won't find anything here. Chilton is only his number two. He wouldn't hide anything important here."

Will sighted but agreed. They quickly left the office, leaving it like it had been.

"Let's hurry out." The agent said. "Or someone sees you and I have to save you again." Will was caught off guard, he didn't expect the older suddenly to be that formal, his voice sounding professional, no hint of a possible flirt. The younger thought he would be relieved now that the agent seemed to leave him alone, but he could feel a small string in his heart. Those damn feelings. Would he ever be able to get over Hannibal Lecter?

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal fic #Hannibal Series #hannibal nbc #will graham #hannibal X will #hannibal lecter x will graham #will x hannibal #will graham x hannibal lecter #hannigram #hannigram au #will x hannigram #hannigram x will #hannigram scenario #james bond #JAMES BOND AU #hannigram james bond au

[lackwhen]

In Conversation: Sabrina Cates on Thrifting, Social Media, and Freedom

Sabrina Cates,

born and raised in New Orleans, is fly as hell and giving me a read on purpose and freedom. We heard of one another through word of mouth and met via Instagram. What started as polite exchange of compliments turned into a discussion about leaving corporate America to build on our dreams, brands and our own businesses. That, is why I chose to sit down with this wonderful woman. Sabrina is a gorgeous, compassionate, light of a human being who finds value in doing what she wants to do, be that blowing bubbles, case managing or channeling her mother at the thrift store. 

My conversation with Sabrina will be the first in a series of conversations and interviews with creative, inspiring folks around New York and beyond. In wanting to learn more about relationships, imagination and the world, I also want to give these people a chance to tell their stories in hopes that they’ll reach and touch some of you. I want to expose us all to the way some of us are living out their imaginations and the ways they are trying to love, move, work and what they really think about the world.

Sabrina Cates: I have this thing, I know what my purpose is. I’ve known what my purpose was since about college.

What’s your purpose honey? 

My purpose is service. I’m here to serve people who have less than me. To help them, to build them, to work in communities and to grow them. 

I went to college originally for sport journalism. I loved sports, I played sports in high school, I had all brothers and I wrote. It made sense. My sophomore year, I started going to counseling for some things I’d gone through in the past and it just hit me. So I was like, I want to do this. I want to help people. Kids who'd gone through what I went through. So I switched my focus to social work. 

Right out of college I worked a few corporate jobs. First, with Verizon then as a flight attendant. At a point I felt like I was just living my life for fun. I was flying, I had money, I was never home, but what was I really doing? Who was I really helping? I had to find something more meaningful.

How long did it take you to come to the conclusion that what you were doing didn’t align with your life’s purpose? 

Maybe three months before I quit flight attending I realized like wow, I am not doing anything, I’m helping people, but not really. So I went to the internet looking for jobs that would let me use my degree. I hadn’t really gotten into case management since college. I figured, I got this degree and spent four years doing case management work, so why not try to use it. 

Eventually, I found a case manager position at AmeriCorps. I applied, interviewed, and they gave me 2 weeks to move to Paterson, New Jersey. They gave me a housing stipend but that was really it. It was more of a volunteer project than a job.

Earlier, we talked about shying away from corporate America. When you are building your own business and stepping away from corporate America, what does that actually look like? 

I wouldn’t do case management anymore. I’ve done social work for so long, and I loved it. I do love it. What I would do now is be in the community, volunteer and tutor after school programs. Things like that. I want to step away from case management a bit because coming here, I’ve realized I am more in-tune with myself in tapping into my creative side and that’s like the thrifting brand that I own.

"“When you no longer are moving in a way of worrying about what other people think and feel, especially in regards to you, that’s when you’ll truly know freedom.""

Lets talk about that, because we just shot and you are stylish as fuck, I’m like, who could give a look like this? 

So, I didn’t like thrifting growing up with my mom, we were very poor. I used to have to go to thrift stores with my mom and brothers. She’d pick out all our shit under a certain amount. I would complain the whole time worried about getting teased at school. And we did. We got teased a lot. I hated it, but when I got to college, everybody looked the same. Everybody shopped at Forever21. I remember going to the club one day and this girl and I had on the same exact outfit, from the skirt to the top. Ever since that day I decided to shop at the thrift store. And so when I went, it was like everything my mom taught me just kind of came back. All of her lessons.

Was mom fly?

Yes, she was fly! Apparently, to my family, I’m an exact mold of her when she was my age. I can go into a thrift store and can find anything. I can create these ideas and outfits in my mind and I can go and find everything I want. Everything. My mom taught me that.

It is a skill. A lot of people just cannot thrift. Did mom even teach you the styling part? 

She didn’t teach me the styling part. She just taught me what to look for. She dressed us pretty fly as kids, for what she could afford. But when it comes to styling, I guess it’s naturally in me. I can’t even explain it. 

That just comes from being a creative. 

It comes with freedom and really being able to find out who you are. I feel like once I found out who I was and became in-tune with that, my creativity just amped; it’s not complicated. After a while friends would start asking me if I could style them and I’m like “nope! I just know how to dress me.”

So do you ever style now? 

Yes, I have my own Vintage Brand called Vintage Austerity. I launched it April of this year. I started the brand because my friends, line-sister, and my favorite cousin Roni started asking me to style for them. Once I started, it showed me that I truly have talent. Now, all I have to do is work on making it a skill. I started selling my thrift items on my Instagram, soon I’ll be selling it on my website. My partner gave me the idea to start these wardrobe parties, to sell my things and so when I chose to do them, I decide to have people really dress up. At the last party I had about 20 vintage items up for sale on this name-your-price basis, and I did not have to negotiate at all. They are quality things that I thrift so people were really into it. 

You’re like the middle man, it’s like personal shopping. 

Yeah! I am going to start selling other items too. Vintage furniture, antiques, and things.  My whole home is thrifted. I love vintage things, from items to clothes.

I want to be full out with my thrift line. I’ve always had this vision of taking a school bus and flipping it into this travel store and taking it to festivals. So that’s my project in a couple years.  

It sounds like you’re taking all of the steps to getting there. With your management experience, your thrift parties and such. You’re even working for a start up and not some huge corporation so I imagine there is more room to grow, learn, and practice even more skills, right?

Yeah, definitely. I am currently building their customer service presence on social media. 

""Social media, to me, is creating this microwaveable-instant-popcorn-ready-society.""

What do you think about social media? 

Social media to me is creating this microwaveable-instant-popcorn-ready-society. It is building up this generation of people who think that their dreams and everything should be ready in 3 minutes, like popcorn. 

I do see the positives, though. I've seen people with brands grow and make money. Even looking at my partner, building her brand on social media, selling merchandise. It’s great for marketing and business, if you really put in the work and don’t expect it to happen over night.

What ways do you use social media?

I use it for business and for fun. Keeping up with relationships, but also researching other businesses and things creatives are doing. That's really all I use it for, I try not to take it too seriously. 

I went to Chris Rock’s show yesterday and they collected all of our phones, said we’d get them back at the end of the show. I talked with my friends until the show started. Out of the hundreds of people at the show, not one person had their phone out.

I cannot even imagine that.

I hadn't seen that in a long time. Chris Rock even made a point. He said, “I was with my wife for 16 years and my parents were together for 40. I talked to my wife more in that 16 years than my parents did in their 40.” And that's because there were no phones to call and text. When his dad would go to work at 6:45 in the morning, he wouldn’t get back until 8 at night. There was no communication during that time. When he would get home, they’d sit and talk. There was actual conversation. Now, with texting, Instagram and Snapchat, by the time you get home, there is nothing left to talk about. 

In that sense, his marriage kind of couldn’t have lasted 40 years. We get so burnt out, in many ways being in our phones.

Yep, and everyone thinks they can have Cardi B’s outcome, coming out of social media. But we don’t get to see the work she put in and so people don’t think they have to work hard to get success. People can't even imagine a life without Instagram.

Being a photographer, especially, I can’t imagine deleting it. I actually get sick being on it so much, but because of my line of work, I can’t be without it. I get lost on there, spending hours doing non-work related shit. Killing my self-esteem and wasting my time. 

Exactly, that’s why I try to stay back as far as I can. I still write letters, I journal by hand. I like to read and sit in the park for 5 hours blowing bubbles. I am about not being limited to one thing. If you’re a photographer, take your pictures. If you’re a poet, write your poems. If you wanna flip around and hula hoop, do it. When you no longer are moving in a way of worrying about what other people think and feel, especially in regards to you, that’s when you’ll truly know freedom. For me, I don’t care what people think. At my age, I do what ever I want. 

I remember having a conversation with this girl and she goes, “You’re 30, and blowing bubbles and dancing in the street? What about a career and work? What about family? You don’t want to be serious about that?” Why do people think life is so serious? I work, I have a full time job, I have a savings, I am learning about investing. The adult part is figured out. But that’s not all life is about. I want to be free. 

I learned that people define you by what you do. 

They really do. After I left corporate life I stopped getting pats on the back. People aren’t as impressed that I am trying to build my own thing. People seem so concerned about finishing school and getting a salary with health care and it's exhausting trying to convince people that this is valid way of living.

It’s not your job to convince people that what you’re doing is important and has value. It stems from how they were raised. Older black people were taught that you work hard in school to get a degree to get a good job, to buy a house and car, to have a family, to retire. That’s life for them. That’s what they were taught, that’s what they teach you. I can’t fault them completely. It’s a generational thing. They won’t be as open minded to see it differently. You have to accept those people for who they are and trust that eventually they’ll see your light.

I'm probably the weirdest person in my family and they are still super supportive. Coming out to my brother, who is my best friend but who I also look at as a father figure, I was super nervous. When I told him he responded with "oh, so you like the same thing I like!" My brother has a favorite line: "if people don't like you, fuck them." "if they have a problem with who you are, what you do, who you're fuckin', fuck them." It's not their job to like you, it's not your job to make them. My family accepts me for exactly who I am. They don't understand me all of the time, but they still love the shit out of me.  

That's how I support my friends, that's how I support my partner, that's how I support anyone. Do what you want to do. It won’t always be easy, but stay true to your self, and find out who you are. Spend your time discovering and creating you, stay true to that, love yourself first, and fuck other people’s opinions. To thine own self be true.

This interview has been edited and condensed.

[darkwing-katy]

Second Chance - Part Eight

Guys, I’m posting this from my new home in Florida! Whoot-whoot!

Thank you so, so much for your patience with me. My life has gotten incredibly hectic, and it’s taken me a while to be able to update. But it’s finally here, chapter eight of Second Chance! It will be a while before chapter nine comes out since I’ve got to unpack and apply for jobs and get settled in here. Thanks to all who have commented on this fic or messaged me--I still jump for joy when I get a notification that someone’s said something about it! Let me know if you want to be tagged in upcoming chapters! Special thanks to @sannvers who is busy with band camp and still managed to edit for me.

Title: Second Chance

Pairing: Eventual Gaston x Fem!Reader

Rating: T

Words: 7,466

Summary: You try to stop Gaston from shooting the Beast and falling to his death, but you arrive too late to save him. As you sit there, sobbing, the Enchantress offers you a second chance to save him.

Tagging: @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @with-a-hint-of-pesto-aioli@hobbithorse19@leah5684 @princessbelgoof @captainskyline @theoncergames@geeky-girl-394@were-allstoriesinthe-end084 @brooke-supernatural16@certainasthesvn@jordyhaley @superlokidwholock @smilesnjh @prongspower@bitchingqueenoferebor@scarletdarkholme @hemmingbaes @bae-kage @areuslow@lovelylpevensie@uknwwhttheysayboutthecrzy1s @moonbeams-and-pie @17gnomes-in-a-trenchcoat @superwholockedrosx @panda-reads-stuff @ultimatetrashlord@elenawrit@the7thsilence @blackxthexbeast @rainwing-galaxy @arkhamsnight @imoyu-trashblog @martapetrovic @ciaprincess @juggernaut-jones@fangirlx26@fangirlx26 @epicfallenismine @izzymaria1994 @loveablelulu13 @malfoy-milkovich-royalty @kylorenlover15 @banana-cat @withouthannah @stone0502 @shiroyuki18 @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag @lainris @banana-cat @samaxraph99 @honey-badger-dont-give-a@daisiesflower @afairytaledreamer @flufycorn384 @lovelyturtle36 @kairi73 @aerondrage @softbcky @pnchingwalls101 @chalatea @crowleysfavoritehuman @afairytaledream @silverwingedfox @asymmetrical-flower-child @my-whataguythat-gaston @elyza-jeanette @migirl323 @soulgirl518 @betterlattethennever @bonemarrow-writes 

Previous Chapter

“I still don’t understand why you wouldn’t let us take a carriage,” Adam grumbled, though he was only half-serious.

“You’re enjoying this just as much as (Y/N) and I are, so stop complaining,” Belle replied, rolling her eyes.

It was a bright morning, with not a cloud in sight. For now, a gentle breeze cooled you, but you knew that come afternoon, it would be quite warm in the direct sunlight. You leaned forward and patted your horse’s neck; you were going at a slow enough pace that you felt comfortable doing such.

The three of you were en route to Villenueve to officially announce the engagement of Prince Adam and Belle, and also to invite the whole town to the wedding celebration. The happy couple had decided they didn’t want to wait too long, so the wedding was to be held in the beginning of August. Today marked the beginning of July, which meant you had a month to plan the festivities.

It was a bit daunting, but considering Adam had dozens of servants, you were fairly certain it could be done. In fact, tonight, you, Belle, and Adam were to have a meeting after dinner to start discussing the details.

You allowed your thoughts to drift to Gaston, whom you’d visited briefly before leaving. He’d been asleep deep enough that your approach hadn’t woken him, and you’d decided to let him continue sleeping. You had left enough food for both breakfast and lunch with him, since you weren’t sure if you would be back at the castle until evening. He hadn’t stirred, not even when you accidentally set the tray down too fast and the plates had clinked together. Macbeth was sitting next to him, a piece of straw marking his place.

Remembering the sight brought a faint smile to your lips, at least, until you thought about his uncharacteristic behavior last night. Your smile faded at the memory of the depressed man who hadn’t even bothered flirting with you. LeFou will have an idea of what to do, I’m sure. Although should I even bother cheering him up? Maybe this is the slap in the face he needs to realize his faults.

“…right, (Y/N)?”

You shook your head and looked at Belle. “What?” you asked.

Belle smiled. “I was just telling Adam about how I thought we should have doves released from behind us once the priest declares us man and wife,” she replied.

You frowned. That didn’t sound like Belle at all. “Really?”

“No!” Belle shook her head at you, her eyebrows creasing as if she was disappointed in you for believing her. “Are you alright? You’ve been awfully quiet this morning.”

“I’m fine.” One of her eyebrows raised in doubt. “Really, I am!”

“Did something happen last night?”

“No! Everything is fine!” you insisted. You met Belle’s eyes with your own in the hopes that she would drop the issue. She squinted a little bit, as if trying to peer past your defensiveness, but you met her gaze steadily. You could handle Gaston; she had a whole wedding to plan.

She blew a tuft of air out her nose and turned back to her fiancé, knowing that you were just as stubborn as she was and that if you didn’t want to answer her properly, you weren’t going to. The small victory made you smile internally, though you were careful to not let it show on your face.

Adam must’ve sensed the rising tension, as he suddenly cut in with a, “I think I’ll ask Lumière to be my best man.”

Both you and Belle smiled at him, the momentary tension dropped. “Oh, he’ll enjoy that,” Belle grinned. “He’ll be singing about it for days before and after the wedding, just to annoy Cogsworth.”

Adam winked. “I’m almost counting on it.”

You imagined the tall man you’d met yesterday dancing around the older servant and laughed, catching the prince’s attention.

“Will you be alright dancing with him for a song or two, (Y/N)?” he asked, turning his blue eyes on you. “Plumette won’t mind.”

“Who’s Plumette?” You remembered hearing her name a few other times, but you’d yet to meet the woman.

He thought for a moment before replying. “You’ve seen the Madame and the Maestro, haven’t you?”

You nodded.

“Plumette is Lumière’s love. She’s one of the maids in the castle, and Lumière is utterly devoted to her.” Adam glanced at Belle as he said that, prompting a soft smile from her. You blushed at his words and actions, feeling once more like you were intruding on a private moment between lovers.

“If she’s his lover, then are you certain that she will be okay with us dancing?” you asked slowly.

Both Adam and Belle nodded. “Oh, yes, I’m positive of it,” he affirmed. “But I will say, Lumière is quite the dancer. Are you up for that?”

You and Belle started laughing at the seriousness on his face. He scrunched up his face in confusion. “Your highness, I enjoy dancing,” you said, still laughing. “I just don’t get the opportunity to dance very often.”

A sudden vision played in your mind’s eye: you, in a cream-colored ballgown, surrounded by many, many other couples in similar colors. Maestro Cadenza sitting at his harpsichord, the beautiful Madame de Garderobe next to him, arms outstretched as she sings a marvelous aria. You with Lumière, smiling at each other; the feeling of floating as you glide around the grand ballroom that you so admired. A bow, another spin, a partner switch. You look into green eyes that smirk at you, matching the expression on your new partner’s lips. Firm hands grasp you, one around your waist, the other holding your hand out as you begin a waltz. The rest of the dancers fade away, leaving only you and Gaston and the music. He’s wearing a red vest over his usual ruffled shirt. His hair is perfectly coiffed into its usual ponytail, a red ribbon tying it back. You let him lead you in the steps, fully trusting that he knows what he’s doing.

The vision vanished as quickly as it had appeared, only lasting a few blissful seconds.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be happy to have a partner like you,” Adam said, eyes twinkling. You nodded at him, and the conversation turned to food. You paid attention and chimed in when you felt like you had a worthy comment, but for the most part, you let the engaged couple discuss the meal. After all, it was their day.

By the time you all but reached the village, the meal had been decided upon as well as a general idea of decorations. During the last few moments before entering Villenueve, you noticed Adam sitting up even straighter, his casual demeanor still there but somewhat diminished as he made himself more…princely. He looked calm to your eyes as you rode into town, but when Belle put a gentle hand on his arm, you realized he must be nervous. After all, hadn’t you heard yesterday that he’d used to tax the villagers heavily? The poor man probably felt guilty for his pre-curse self’s actions.

A crowd gathered around you three as you went further in. You felt uncomfortable with the amount of attention on you, even though you were certain everyone was watching the royal couple more than you. Why couldn’t we have simply had the town crier announce it? you allowed yourself to wonder as you tried to sit up straighter. It would’ve made this much, much easier.

But you knew part of the reason, at least, was Adam’s guilt. He wanted to show that he was no longer the man who would let a village suffer to pay for his pleasures. He wanted to demonstrate that he was approachable, a prince that they could rely on and trust. It was all an effort to fix his image, although you were also certain that even if the villagers all hated him, he would be content as long as he had Belle’s love.

Would Gaston do the same? He clearly felt some guilt for his actions, based on the conversations you’d had with him. He might not apologize out loud for what he did, but showing remorse counted. Well, in your mind it did, but only because you were sure that his pride would never allow him to fully apologize the way he should. It bothered you, but you shrugged it off. After all, you win some, you lose some.

You scanned the crowd for LeFou but didn’t see him. The three of you continued through the marketplace and stopped at the washing fountain, where you all dismounted. The crowd followed you and stood there, muttering to one another about the reasons why the prince had come to town. Adam sucked in a deep breath as Belle tucked her arm around his. You looked for LeFou again and spotted him in the middle of the villagers, Tom, Dick, and Stanley standing by him. He gave you a small wave that you reciprocated. Suddenly you felt a lot better about everything.

“People of Villenueve, I have a very important announcement to make,” Adam began, his voice silencing the curious murmurs. “I know I haven’t been the best prince in the past, and for that, I am deeply sorry. I promise you, it will never be like that again.” All eyes were on him and Belle. “As part of my amends, I would like to invite you all to a royal ball next month. It’s not just any ball, though.” He looked at Belle, who beamed at him. You heard a couple close to you whispering, but you couldn’t make out their words.

“It will be a ball of celebration—celebration of a curse being broken, celebration of families being reunited, and, most importantly, the celebration of Belle and I’s marriage.”

It felt as if everyone was holding their breath in the seconds that followed his announcement. Then someone began to clap. The lone clapper was soon followed by cheers and shouts and even more clapping as the whole town joined in. Even the Bimbettes and the schoolmaster, who hated Belle, were whooping at the announcement. You grinned; the clapping had started from the part of the crowd you’d seen LeFou in.

You looked back at the engaged couple. Belle was laughing and covering her mouth at the sight before her. You looked closer and saw that her eyes were watering—the town who called her ‘funny’ and practically ostracized her at times was now cheering for her with genuine joy. She didn’t need their acceptance, but you could see that it still meant a lot for her.

You couldn’t deny a perverse sense of pleasure at the scene. You hated it when everyone had made fun of your friend and her kind father (and you, occasionally). Now that she was marrying a prince, they wouldn’t dare speak against her so openly. She wouldn’t have to worry about Maurice being called ‘crazy’ or thrown into an asylum (granted, that was more Gaston’s fault than anyone else’s, but still). She could finally stop worrying about what Villenueve thought of her.

A man—Monsieur Ames, who often sold eggs in the market and flirted with Madame Charee—stepped forward, his arm raised. Adam nodded at him. “Congratulations, your highnesses,” Ames said, bowing to both him and Belle. “I just—did you say we were all invited?”

Belle laughed. “Yes, of course! There’s room for everyone who wants to come,” she replied with a kind smile.

Ames’s dark eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Thank you, your highnesses! Let me know if you need any eggs!” He bowed again and turned to step back into the crowd.

“Actually, we wanted to let everyone know that you are all welcome to participate in our preparations,” Belle added. “We’ll need help to get everything ready on time.”

All of a sudden, everyone began throwing their arms up with shouts of what they could volunteer to the wedding. Some of it was unnecessary, you knew—Belle was planning on working with Garderobe to design her wedding gown, so she wouldn’t need the seamstresses, and you were fairly certain that Lumière would be insulted if someone not of the castle cooked the meal. But there were many offers to help get the grounds ready, and you knew that would be a task that would require lots of teamwork to get done.

You caught another glimpse of LeFou in the crowd, and this time, he made eye contact with you. The both of you smiled, and he pointed towards the tavern. “Meet there?” he mouthed—or maybe he said it, but it wasn’t like you’d be able to hear him. You gave a nod of affirmation, hoping that he’d understand it might be a while. With a grin, he spun around and headed in that direction.

You sighed. You were eager to talk to him, but first things first. You returned your gaze to Adam and Belle, who were already talking to villagers about what they could do to help. Oh, yes, it was definitely going to be a while.

You slumped down into a chair and let your head slide to the table. Lefou laughed. “Long day?”

“You have no idea,” you mumbled against the rough wood. He laughed again, and you slowly lifted your head up. “And they’re still at it. I have no clue how they do it.” You’d talked to maybe a third of the villagers before eating lunch with Maurice, then you’d left Belle and Adam to continue talking to the villagers on their own while you met LeFou. Their patience and politeness had no end, it seemed.

Then again, Belle would probably say the same about you if she knew the depth of your interactions with Gaston.

Before you could bring up the captain, Stanley, followed closely by Tom and Dick, walked up to your table. He had two mugs in hand, as did Tom (or was it Dick? You never could tell them apart). “Brought you another drink,” he said easily, setting both mugs down. “There’s one for you, too, mademoiselle,” he added, sliding one mug to you.

At first you were confused by his actions, but then you saw that Tom (at least, you’d decided you were calling him Tom) also had two mugs of ale, one of which he gave to Stanley. “Thanks,” you said, grinning at the man. A little beer would be nice right now. I’ve earned it, you thought, grabbing the handle and taking a gulp. The bitter liquid made you splutter; you didn’t drink often, and you were unused to it. The men chuckled at your reaction, but you could tell it wasn’t out of meanness. With watering eyes, you choked down the drink and gave them a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.

“Maybe next time you shouldn’t take such a big gulp,” Dick said helpfully.

“Yeah, good idea,” you muttered, pushing the mug away from your body. After shaking your head, you sat up to better face them all. “So…erm…” Well, this was awkward. How on earth were you supposed to ask LeFou about Gaston with them around? “How are you?”

Great, (Y/N). Engage them in conversation. That’s the way to get LeFou by himself.

“Good,” Tom replied. Dick shrugged in agreement.

Stanley’s eyes flicked to LeFou and back. “Good,” he agreed quietly.

You opened your mouth again, but before you could ask another generic question, LeFou leaned forward and spoke: “We’ve been asking around about Gaston,” he said in a low tone.

You flinched at Gaston’s name. Wait, did he tell them the truth? you wondered, feeling suddenly nervous. You’d trusted the shorter man—surely he wouldn’t betray your trust like that!

“Yeah, LeFou mentioned that you were helping him plan the funeral, so we helped him ask people to attend,” Dick said after taking a gulp of beer.

You felt a wave of relief at his words. LeFou hadn’t told them the truth. The secret was safe (for now, the dark voice in your mind muttered). “How did that go?”

From the looks of the four men in front of you, not well. “It seems that most of the townspeople are still mad about the whole storming the castle and unwittingly leading them to destroy their loved ones,” LeFou explained.

You winced. Well, when you put it that way…I can’t really blame them. “Fair enough. And that’s everyone, you said?”

“Pretty much,” said Tom.

“Except maybe a few,” Stanley indicated the table.

Dick waved a finger. “And a few that are not currently present.”

“Such as Jean and Ames and Stanley’s sisters—” continued Tom.

“Sisters?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“You know, the triplets?” Tom looked at you like he was genuinely surprised you didn’t know.

“Wait, the Bimb—the triplets?” you exclaimed in disbelief. You looked at Stanley, who lifted his mug in acknowledgement. “Those girls are your sisters?”

“Yes, they are,” he sighed and took a drink.

Well, there’s something you don’t find out every day. “Well…it’s good that not everyone hates him,” you said, more to yourself than to the rest of the table.

“Not that it matters,” interrupted Dick, “since he’s dead.”

“To Gaston!” declared Tom, who’d somehow almost finished his mug and lifted it up. Dick and Stanley echoed him also raising their mugs for a drink.

You felt warmth creep up your neck at their sadness. You knew it was for the best that they didn’t know of his survival right now, but you still felt guilty that they were mourning their friend.

LeFou sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I need some air,” he mumbled, playing along with the dampened mood. You took that as your cue and stood.

“I’ll come with you. I need to go back to the castle soon, anyway.”

“Will you be alright?” Stanley asked the stout man as he rose from his chair.

LeFou patted Stanley’s shoulder. “I’ll be fine. Thanks.” He smiled at him, and for a moment, you felt like you were missing something between them. You gave yourself a mental shrug, chalking it up to their friendship. After all, you and Belle could sometimes speak without words.

“Goodbye,” you told them, giving a small wave. They all raised their mugs in farewell of you and LeFou, and you both made your way outside.

“Sorry about that,” LeFou said once you’d exited the tavern. “I wasn’t sure how long you’d take, and they’ve been staying close to me ever since Gaston’s…death.” He sighed.

You shook your head. “No, you don’t need to apologize. It’s good that they care enough about you to be concerned.” You automatically started walking towards Belle’s home, but LeFou pointed in a different direction.

“May I?” he asked, clearly having a place for you to talk in mind.

“Of course.”

You walked in silence for a few moments before he spoke again. “So, uh…how is our friend?” You could hear his eagerness at news. You felt a soft smile forming on your lips. LeFou truly was a good man.

You sighed, letting the smile drop. “Well, it’s odd,” you began, stepping around a mud puddle, “but he’s…different, I think.”

“Oh?”

“Was he ever depressed with you?”

LeFou stopped in his tracks. “Depressed?” he asked, tilting his head in confusion.

You nodded. “Yes. Depressed.”

“How so?”

He resumed walking, and you saw that you were going to a part of town you’d never really gone to before. The shops were sparse, instead replaced by a few small homes. Ahead of you was another archway that led out of Villenueve to the woods. Where are we going? “Well, Adam proposed to Belle yesterday evening, and apparently he saw it from the cell, and when I visited him last night, he was, I don’t know…sad. He kept going on and on about how he’d thought Belle was the one for him and how ‘of course, she’d marry him’—‘him’ meaning the prince—and he was much more introspective than I’ve ever seen him.”

The wind blew gently, rustling the leaves of the trees. You caught a glimpse of something in the woods. Is that a house?

“Has he been sleeping?” LeFou asked, almost sharply, like he was more concerned than you’d expected him to be.

“I would assume so,” you replied, frowning as you tried to recall if Gaston had seemed like he was getting enough sleep. “He was when I brought him food this morning.”

LeFou let out a short whoosh of air. “Good,” he muttered.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?” You were now almost certain that you could see a house in the woods. It was close enough to easily walk to and from town, but far enough that it earned a bit of comforting isolation.

“He has a history of not getting enough sleep,” came the shorter man’s hesitant reply.

“What?”

LeFou sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. “We were in the war together, you know? We fought and survived, but it was hard on him. He had nightmares about it almost every night for the first few months back.”

“I thought he loved the war? He told me it was glorious and fun.” You could make out the outline of the house and wondered if it was perhaps were LeFou lived.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t have nightmares. You can love something and still be afraid of it.”

I suppose.

LeFou continued. “That’s how he was with it. I followed him back here after it ended, and he let me move into his home with him. That’s how I know about the nightmares. That’s also where his mood swings come from, I’m almost positive of it.” He stopped, and you wondered if he was done with his statement. “Did he talk to you about it at all? The war?”

Alright, maybe he wasn’t done. “A little. We were up late one night and he told he about being chased for three days.” That was the first night he asked me to stay.

“That was a hard three days…but he never once lost his grip, you know? He was always in control, always in command, even without sleep.” LeFou’s voice had taken on a wistful tone, like he was mentally reliving those days. “He was amazing.”

You felt yourself blushing at his reverence. You knew that LeFou loved the man, but it almost felt like you were intruding on his memories.  

A comfortable silence fell between you two as you made your way to the small cottage. LeFou, ever the gentleman, opened the door for you and let you enter first. It was a bit dim inside as the sun was slowly setting and most of the windows faced the east rather than the west, but you could make out a few details: there was a black bearskin on the floor, a lavish wooden armchair sitting in front of an unlit fireplace, a simple table with benches, and there were odd shapes on the wall around the fireplace. As you observed your new surroundings, LeFou walked to the other side of the house and pulled back a piece of cloth that covered a few of the west-facing windows, illuminating everything. You saw that the odd shapes were simply animal heads—a buck rested directly above the fireplace, a smaller bear head to the left of it and a boar head to the right.

My God, there’s a lot of antlers here, you thought. Antlers crisscrossed over each other on the mantle, there were antlers hung on the wall, antlers inside a large wooden tub on another table. There was a small chandelier hanging from the ceiling—well, you say chandelier, but it was made of, of course, antlers and probably other bones.

“Yeah, Gaston really loves using antlers in his decorating,” LeFou explained, joining you and offering a cup of water. You took the offered drink and nodded, eyes wide at the overabundance of antlers.

“So I noticed.” There were also furs abound, most likely from all of the animals he’d hunted. There were also a few pillows, some of which had simple embroidery and others which had more elaborate designs. There was a large trunk against one corner of the wall, no doubt filled with more furs and blankets for the cold winters. “Did you make the pillows?”

LeFou scoffed. “I wish. No, those were all done by Gaston’s mother, the Madame Legume.” One in particular caught your eye—a faded red pillow with a black fleur-de-lis encircled by cream deer antlers. It was odd to see a fleur-de-lis here, since they were only for royalty to use in designs. Along the edges of the pillow were cream swirls and lines. “That one’s his favorite, too,” LeFou said quietly, following your line of sight.

“It’s not what I’d have expected from his mother,” you replied. “Did he ever talk to you about her?”

LeFou shrugged and motioned for you to sit in one of the chairs. “Not really,” he said, taking a seat next to you. “He doesn’t like talking about his family.”

“He told me his mother died in childbirth and that his father was a hunter, but that was about it. I got the impression that he and the Monsieur Legume didn’t get along.” You set your cup on the table and leaned back against the chair.

“I’m surprised he even told you that much.” The shorter man leaned back as well, his fingers dancing across the armrests. “He told me bits and pieces of his childhood when I served under him, usually when he was drunk. Then, when we came here and he invited me to move in with him, he revealed a little more.” He exhaled deeply and glanced at you. “I think his father blamed him for the death of his mother. A few times when he got really, really drunk, he rambled about never being good enough, never living up to her. For a while I thought he meant a woman that he’d loved and lost somehow, but then I realized it was his mother.”

You sat in silence, absorbing all of this information as he spoke. That sounds horrible. At least Papa never said anything of the sort to me.

“I think that’s why he’s so…himself, you know? He always wants attention because he never got it from someone he cared about.”

“He’s still trying to prove himself,” you murmured, not intending to interrupt LeFou but doing it nonetheless.

His brow furrowed. “What was that?”

You pursed your lips, trying to find the right words before elaborating. “If his father always told him he wasn’t good enough, maybe he was constantly doing things in order to prove himself. That’s why he became the best hunter. That’s why he joined the war. It might even be why he protected the town from those invaders years ago. He’s got a hero complex, but it’s not borne out of narcissism, however he may act like it is. It’s out of a desire to show that he is good enough.” And that in itself is sad. It doesn’t excuse his actions, but it explains them. All of the pieces of the puzzle that was Gaston were slowly falling into place the more you learned about him.

You could almost picture a young Gaston trying to earn his father’s favor by rallying up the villagers against the Portuguese. Afterwards, he might’ve gone up to the elder Legume and announced that he’d defended Villenueve, and the older man would’ve ‘hmmph’ed in response. So what could he do? A few years later, when the war presents the ultimate opportunity to prove his worth, naturally, he would join.

He said his father died during the war, though. So that means he must’ve come home, ready and eager to be commended at last for his status as Captain, and learned that he was dead, along with any chance of redeeming himself in his father’s eyes. Merde, that’s awful.

You suddenly wanted to embrace Gaston, and unlike previously, it wasn’t due to your crush. You sympathized with him.

“You said no one seems too upset about his ‘death’, right?” you asked, frowning.

LeFou shook his head. “Most of the villagers are still angry at him.”

You sighed. “Can’t say I blame them. He was horrible that night.” You sank your head into your hands. “What are we going to do? How are we going to let everyone know he’s still alive if they hate him?”

“If we could convince everyone else to give him a second chance, then the wedding would be a perfect time to announce his survival.”

“But what good will it do if everyone decides to riot against him?”

“Would they?”

“I don’t know!” You lifted your head and slammed your arms against the table. “Maybe that’s a worst-case scenario, maybe it’s not, but it doesn’t make a difference because I’m going to have to tell him that the people he wanted to adore him actually despise him!”

LeFou winced at your violent reaction. “That’s not gonna be fun at all,” he muttered.

“No, it’s not!” You inhaled and exhaled, trying to expel your frustration. It didn’t work, and you looked at a window to calm yourself down.

The sun had begun its descent, giving the outside a gold hue. You’d spent more time here than you’d meant to, and now you had to go back to the castle to give Gaston dinner. And possibly tell him about how many people hated him. And then plan a wedding.

“You seem frustrated. Are you okay, (Y/N)?” LeFou asked, concerned.

You considered faking a smile, then realized that he was too shrewd to let that fool him. “No,” you admitted. “It’s just…sometimes it’s hard, doing all this.” You returned your eyes to him, secretly appreciating the way he was leaning forwards, showing his genuinely concern for you. “It helps that you and Belle and the Prince know, but there’s just all this responsibility on me to take care of him and I wouldn’t change it for the world (Use it wisely echoed Agathe’s voice in your mind, conjuring up a mental picture of golden haze) but sometimes it’s just so damn hard.” Your voice cracked at the end of your rant, and you felt tears prick the corners of your eyes.

“Take deep breaths,” LeFou said gently, using his hands to illustrate inhaling and exhaling. You followed his movements, breathing in and out for a few minutes until you felt better. Once you let out a deep sigh, he took your hand in his. “It’s going to be alright, (Y/N). You did a good thing, and you did it for the right reasons. That doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy, but if you can convince an Enchantress to turn back time, then I think you can handle this.” He grinned at you. “You’re strong and smart, and if anyone can figure this out, it’s you. And I mean, I’ll help. And so will Belle!”

You felt yourself smiling at him, and this time, it wasn’t forced. “Thanks, LeFou. You’re amazing, you know?”

He laughed. “I try.”

You laughed, too, and sighed again. “I need to go. But thank you for everything—you’re right, we’ll figure this out.” You scooted your chair back and stood, stretching. “I’ll see you around, okay? And you’re always welcome to come to the castle and visit, even if you don’t want to visit him yet.”

“Thanks, (Y/N).”

You waved goodbye to him and opened the door. The outside air was still warm, but it was pleasant. Perfect weather for a slow evening ride back to the castle.

If you rode slowly enough, you could use the time to mull on your conversation with LeFou. He’d given you a lot to think about.

You took your time going up the steps to the cell. Not because you were reluctant—rather, you were eager to see Gaston—but because you were still mulling. You felt certain in your conclusions about the captain; they made a lot of sense in regards to his personality and actions.

I don’t know if I could ever ask him, though. Would he even trust me with that kind of intimate knowledge? He only told LeFou when he was drunk, and LeFou’s his best friend. Still…I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like growing up. No wonder he craved attention from the villagers.

Gaston didn’t acknowledge you when you entered the cell. He was once again leaning against the wall of the open door, but he didn’t ooze charisma the way he normally did. If anything, you felt as if he was angry: his entire body seemed stiff, and when you walked over to be across from him, you saw his mouth twitch.

“I see you’ve finally deigned to visit. Apparently I’m not worthy of your presence anymore,” he said, venom lacing his words.

You flinched at the harshness of his tone. Where the hell is this coming from? “I’m sorry?” was all you could think to say as you slid down the wall to the ground.

He let loose a sardonic chuckle. “It’s been a whole day, a whole day of me sitting in this godforsaken prison, with naught to keep me company save for this book.” He picked up the copy of MacBeth and waved it at you before throwing it across the cell. You flinched again. “What am I to you, (Y/N)? A pet? A toy? Someone to talk to at your own whims when you don’t feel like talking to Belle?”

You frowned. This was a much different Gaston than you’d seen last night. Last night he’d been quiet, melancholy. Tonight, he was on the offensive, attacking you viciously with words.

Your lack of response only spurred him on. “Nothing to say? Of course. You only care about conversation when you’re in control of it.” He sneered at you. “Typical.”

All of your confusion suddenly flared into anger. “Excuse me? That’s not the case at all! You steer the conversation just as much as I do!”

“Is that what you think? I know how you work. You lure me with acts of concern and compassion—you pretend to care about my injuries, then you act as if we’re friends, and then you vanish!”

“Gaston!” you exclaimed, feeling heat surge up your cheeks and down your neck. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He slammed his hand onto the floor, making you jump. “Don’t try to deny it, woman,” he growled.

You blinked, then felt your own face form into a snarl. “What the hell is wrong with you tonight? Why are you acting like this?” Without thinking about it, you stood, needing to be taller than him.

“Oh, don’t pretend like you actually care!” he scoffed, jumping to his feet as well.

“I do care!”

“And why would you?” he shouted, gesturing to himself. “Why would you care about me?”

You threw your arms up in disbelief. “Because that’s what friends do! They care about each other! They express concern when one of them is acting like an ass!”

“We are not friends, (Y/N).”

Those five words cut into your heart, as did his green eyes, glaring at you. You tried to think of something to say, anything at all that could hurt him as much as he’d just now hurt you. Nothing came to mind, leaving you standing there, fuming. As you stood there, mouth agape, you began to notice things about Gaston: the dark bruises under his eyes, the way his hair had gotten unusually tangled, the fact that he seemed almost jittery as he glared at you; his fingers twitched against his legs, and he was swaying where he stood. It was barely noticeable, but it was there.

Something’s wrong.

As upset as you still were, you forced yourself to swallow your anger. “Gaston, what is wrong?” you asked softly, hoping that maybe a quieter tone would calm him down. “You haven’t been yourself since last night.” Instinct told you to take a slow step towards him, so you did. “I just want to know why.”

His eyes darted from your face to your feet and back to your face, but he didn’t say anything.

You continued. “Even if you don’t think of me as a friend, I think of you as one. And as your friend, I’m worried about you.”

Gaston wouldn’t look at you. He stood there, no longer glaring, but his fingers were still dancing along his calves. They alternated between tapping and curling up on themselves, almost as if he was making a fist and then abruptly deciding not to. “We’re not friends,” he repeated, this time in a low voice that lacked the previous harshness.

“Yes, we are,” you replied. You cautiously reached for his arm. When your hand grazed him, he flinched, but he made no move to stop you. “What’s wrong?”

He tossed his head, but it was slow. Finally, he sighed. “I’m tired.”

You gently tugged down on his arm. He followed your cue and sat, with you sitting next to him. It was as if the fight had disappeared from him. “Why are you tired?”

“Because I haven’t slept,” he mumbled.

“What?” you couldn’t help but demand. He leaned his head back against the stone wall. “But you were sleeping this morning!”

“I was trying to sleep, but it wasn’t working.” Gaston sighed and placed his hands in his lap. “I couldn’t do it.”

You frowned. “Why not?”

He sighed again. “Nightmares.”

You felt the minnow of fear swim into your stomach. LeFou had mentioned this. “How long have you been having them?”

“Since the night I told you about the war.”

The minnow doubled in size and you realized just how long ago that had been. “Gaston, that was three nights ago. Are you saying you haven’t slept in three days?”

He grimaced. “That sounds about right. Feels longer, though, but that might just be me.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He hesitated, then sighed again. “Can you just…stay and talk?” He sounded so defeated, so vulnerable. And he was looking at you with those eyes, pleading with you to just stay with him.

How could you refuse? “Of course,” you whispered. He patted your thigh, but it didn’t feel like he was trying to flirt. It felt like camaraderie, like he was relieved that you weren’t leaving him yet again. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Anything,” he muttered, closing his eyes and leaning his head back once more. “Just hearing another voice helps.”

“Alright. Well…once, when I was about six or seven, my cousin Amèlie convinced me to sneak into her stables and ride my aunt’s horse bareback. I’d never ridden a horse before, so you can imagine how well that went.” You didn’t know where to go from there; it felt too stiff of a conversation. “Umm…I used to love pretending I was a pirate queen. My father didn’t think it appropriate for a good Christian girl, but my mother would indulge my imagination. She would find sticks or brooms and we would pretend they were swords clanging together.” This story felt a little less awkward. “Sometimes she would hide things around the house and make a little map for me. It wasn’t anything too difficult, of course. At first they were drawings that told me where to go. Then, when I began learning to read, she would write destinations that I could sound out. As I got older, she began writing little clues that I’d have to solve, and while I would search through the house Papa would sit at the table and watch. Sometimes he would roll his eyes, sometimes he would smile.” You grinned at the memories of the game. “Once or twice, Mama managed to convince him to play along. He would be the King, kidnapped by some nefarious enemies, and I, the Pirate Queen, would be the only one who dared to save him.” You paused for a moment before continuing. “I guess it didn’t occur to me that had a pirate actually rescued the King, then she would still be hanged, regardless of her good deeds.”

Gaston snorted, and you took that to be a good sign.

“Mama is the one I got my imagination from. She always wanted to be a writer, but that’s not something that her parents thought proper, so she was never allowed to publish. Nor would she be able to, if she’d been allowed, I don’t think. I think I told you that she taught me to read. ‘Reading is living a thousand other lives,’ she once told me. ‘Lives that you’d never be able to experience any other way.’ Her favorite book is The Adventures of Arabella, which she gave to me before I moved here. It’s my favorite, too.”

“I see.”

As you continued to share tales of your life, you noticed that Gaston made fewer and fewer noises to indicate that he was listening, although he did eat some of the food you’d brought. It seemed that having someone to listen to was exactly what he needed in order to relax. You wondered if LeFou had done this for him before—stayed up late just talking.

A thought occurred to you as you ended your latest story. “Gaston?” you asked.

“Mmm?”

“You threw a dagger at me yesterday afternoon.”

“Yes?”

“You told me you haven’t slept in three nights, correct?”

“I suppose.”

“You threw a dagger at me when you hadn’t slept in two days?”

He flashed you a grin, that grin you felt like you hadn’t seen in days, and shrugged. “I never miss my target. I should think you should be impressed.”

“Impressed? How about I stay awake for two days and throw a sharp, pointy thing at you? Then we’ll see who’s impressed!”

You gave him a light punch to the shoulder, which earned an exaggerated ‘Ow’ from the man, but both of you were smiling. “I could teach you, if you want,” he offered.

“Deal.”

Then he did something unexpected: he leaned his head on your shoulder. You blushed at the action, although you knew he was doing more because he was so tired than for any other reason. Or so you think. Maybe it’s because he wants a pillow, maybe it’s because he likes you, that taunting voice whispered in your head.

“You can keep talking,” he mumbled.

You leaned your head forward a bit to see that he’d closed his eyes again. “How about I read?”

“Mmm.”

You took that to be his approval, so you shifted forwards to reach for the book. Your movement made him lift his head (was he pouting or were you imagining that?), but the moment you’d grabbed the book and sat back against the wall, he replaced it. You smiled to yourself and opened the book to where he’d marked his last stopping point.

“Scene six. Forres. The palace. Enter Lennox and another lord. Lennox speaks: ‘My former speeches have but hit your thoughts, which can interpret further, only, I say, things have been strangely borne…”

As you read aloud to Gaston, you yourself started to feel a little tired. But you’d promised that you would stay, so you ignored your own feelings and kept reading. By the time Lady MacDuff and her son had encountered the murderers looking for Lord MacDuff, Gaston was snoring softly. You yawned; it had been a few hours since you’d come up, and now it was late at night.

You glanced at the sleeping Gaston, his head still resting on your shoulder. In order to make himself more comfortable while you read, he’d scooted closer so that your shoulders were touching. His body radiated warmth in the coolness of the cell, and you were glad of it. The blanket was crumpled up within arm’s length of you, so you grabbed it and spread it across both yours and his legs. Then you marked where you thought he’d fallen asleep at and continued reading the book to yourself. Without realizing it, you felt yourself drifting off, the words on the pages blurring together so that you had to reread a few sentences over and over again.

Malcolm: Well, more anon—comes the King forth, I pray you?

Doctor: Ay, sir, there are a crew of wretched souls That stay his cure: their malady convinces The great assay of art; but at his touch— Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand They presently amend

…they presently amend…

…they presently…

…amend….

#second chance #gaston #gaston x reader #gaston imagine #kate writes #beauty and the beast #batb

[hyfdanielle-archive]

Easter 2017 → granielle

TITLE: Easter 2017 CHARACTER(S): Danielle Panabaker and Grant Gustin @theflashgrant SETTING: Los Angeles, CA on April 15th - April 16th CONTENT RATING: PG SUMMARY: A busy weekend for the Gustins proves that together they can overcome anything that’s thrown at them. (unfinished)

Danielle stretched on Saturday afternoon after a nighttime worth of filming. Getting home at around four in the morning last night had been torturous. Though she figured out a trick to get herself through the night with going into work with her pajamas so she could just crash when she get home, there were still so many things that needed to be done in the early mornings to keep her home life in a schedule. Today was an interesting day and she turned around to see her husband in bed with her, and she gave a soft smile. Today marked the day where she could have lost him, lost everything that her life had been built into, and she didn't take the meaning of today lightly. Slipping off now, Danielle moved as slow as she could out of bed so she wouldn't wake up Grant, letting him sleep longer while she went into their daughter's room to check up on little Alison. "Dada", the little girl yelled out and started babbling a few more nonsensical words, and Danielle nodded her head and picked up the little girl. "We'll go see Dada", she cooed to her daughter and placed a few light kisses to the little girl's cheek. The walk was short and the little girl was as quiet as ever until Danielle placed her down in bed between her and Grant. "Dada", Alison yelled out loudly and Danielle laughed gently. "That's one way to wake him up."

Grant had been so tired lately due to all the night shoots they were doing while filming the finale of season three. He couldn't believe they were almost done with the season but he was glad to have a break from it for a little bit, always feeling overworked at this time of the year. Now that he was going to be spending the weekend in LA with his family as well as Danielle's family for Easter, he was excited. They had a lot to do to prepare, especially since it was the first time they were going to have company in their new house which still wasn't complete yet, but Grant knew they'd get to it eventually. He stirred from sleep when he heard Ali yelling out 'Dada', causing him to chuckle softly. "Hi sweetheart," he whispered sleepily, staring at her. "Dada," she said softer this time and Grant melted, watching her reach out for him. He wrapped his arms around her and placed her on his chest, reaching up to kiss her cheek. "Did you sleep good? Do you like your new room?" He asked his daughter. "At least she seems okay in it, even when it's not very familiar to her yet."

Danielle nodded her head to agree with what her husband said. The brunette didn't speak just yet but let out a yawn, leaning back onto the headboard of the bed that they shared in their Los Angeles home. "She has her Puppies with her and a bunch of new toys that she can play with today to get herself acquainted better, but she does seem to be okay in the nursery here." Danielle's tone of voice grew sleepily with every chance she got to rest, but she didn't mind. Her attention would be on Grant and Ali now with a soft smile on her face. There would be time to get everything ready later, and today was more or less a day to simply relax with the love of her life. She didn't want to do anything else but that. "Morning", she hummed out now, leaning back down to let her nose brush against his cheek. "Or afternoon, whichever time it is. I don't want to alarm you about what today is, but I do want you to know that we're here for you and we'll do everything that we can in order to make this day go as smooth as possible for you."

Grant nodded when Danielle said Ali had her puppy and other toys to keep her occupied and he was just glad she seemed okay here since that's where they would be soon for a while. Or at least she would be since he still had a movie to film. "Morning," he said, smiling softly at his wife. He looked over at the clock and saw that it was just about noon. "I guess we were both tired, it's almost afternoon," he chuckled, letting out a yawn. They were both working a lot and he was glad they were able to have a Sleep In Saturday for once. When Danielle mentioned what today was, Grant hadn't even thought about it until he saw what date it was. April 15th, two years since he had gotten brutally attacked and mugged. "Wow, yeah. Two years, huh," he hummed, pursing his lips. "I can't believe it's been that long, and yet it still feels like it was yesterday sometimes," he whispered. Sometimes Grant was reminded by it with certain situations, still not feeling completely comfortable in public and having anxiety with certain things because of it but he had come a long way and he was happy about that. "I'm just glad I have you and Ali, you've made life so much better for me."

Danielle gave Grant a half-smile. She understood where he was coming from. The anxiety of it all would have been something that hindered a bunch of things for anyone, let alone him. "You've done so much to get you to where you are. I'm proud of you", she told him truthfully. Though she hadn't been there for every step of the way--something she cursed herself every day for--she was there for the majority of it and saw just how much he had overcome. Her tone of voice had been soft and passionate because of the truth that her words conveyed, but sometimes she feared just those words wouldn't be enough to calm and soothe him today. "We're right here with you. In fact, how about we have a day just for you. We can do whatever it is that you want--lounge around, go out, or even just veg and break in the new game system we have. Today is all about you." Danielle was determined to celebrate the day with him--not because he got attacked and mugged, but because he had overcome so much. Today was a day for her to show just how proud she was of Grant and she was going to do just that.

Grant smiled at Danielle when she said she was proud of him, meaning a lot coming from her. Even if they weren't as close when this had initially happened, she had been there through some of the most important parts of it and stuck by him which meant the world to Grant. When she suggested having a day just for him doing whatever they wanted, Grant chuckled. "We don't have to do that, but it's sweet of you to offer. I mean honestly I'm cool with just hanging around the house, relaxing and being lazy. I know we could both use that," he said to his wife. "But...since you did mention it, I think having cake would be something else I want to do today," he said while smiling. Once she had brought up video games, it was hard to get it out of Grant's mind and he was glad they had gotten a game system for this house, even if it was going to eventually be in the basement. "I'd like to play video games but that requires going downstairs and into the living room," he groaned.

Danielle laughed gently at the notion. "I think cake would be a good thing after we have something in our system. I can totally bake us one, but I would need a little bit of help", she offered out to him, trailing her words now that Alison had gotten used to be in her position and started exploring around the bed. "Cake would be good to have now that you mention it. I think we're due for something sweet this afternoon." Her tone of voice had been soft, but it was Alison's babbling that brought her back to her thoughts. The little girl had brought her own opinion to the discussion and Danielle laughed again. "I think she likes the idea of cake too." There was a pause now that had the brunette relaxed, but even her husband's groan had amused her. "So does eating and into the kitchen", she mimicked Grant, just to tease him for his revelation. "Did you really think we were going to stay in this bed all day?"

Grant smiled and nodded. "I can help you bake a cake, if that's what you were implying. I know you don't really need my help because you bake on your own most of the time," he smirked before chuckling. "We can have it after lunch or something," he shrugged, knowing they'd have to eat something substantial first. Chuckling as Alison started babbling, Grant shrugged. "Of course she does. She's a Daddy's girl. She wants her cake," he said proudly, leaning in to kiss her cheek gently. At this Ali started grabbing his face which made him chuckle. "I mean, I was hoping so. But I know we need to eat. I'd have to pee. It's just not realistic," he sighed, shaking his head. Sighing softly, Grant picked Ali up and got out of bed, stretching as best as he could while holding his daughter which made her laugh. "Is that funny? Come on, it's time to eat," he said, leading the way downstairs as Ali started looking around.

Danielle smiled at her husband for getting her little hint. "That's exactly what I was implying. I'd be glad to have your help with the cake. That's the most important thing is to do things together", she continued on to speak before getting out of bed. Her morning routine was more or less down to an afternoon routine now with the time, but hearing what her husband had said had peeked her head out of her thoughts. "The both of you can have your cake and eat it too after we make lunch." Sometimes she had to make things realistic, be as adult as she could, but all she wanted to do was run downstairs to catch the father and daughter duo with her own roughhousing. Once she was done, the brunette made her way down the stairs and caught up, using her hands to tickle Grant's sides as she snuck up on him. Food was already delivered to the house which was something that she was thankful for. Going out today didn't seem like the best thing to do. "Are you guys mesmerized at what's happening", she teased her family before diving into the fridge. "I think it's safe to let you pick what you want to eat. There's a ton of ingredients in the fridge already and we can make whichever."

Grant chuckled when Danielle snuck up on him and tickled his sides gently. "See, I'm already making progress from two years ago. If someone did that to me, I probably would've knocked them out," he said, knowing that was honestly true. Glad that they had groceries in the house already, Grant placed Ali on the counter and held her there so she wouldn't fall. "I think she is, or maybe she's looking for the dogs. She's always wondering where they are. Don't worry sweetheart, they'll be here with us soon," he smiled. "I don't know, what should we have? I think I'm in the mood for some kind of sandwich, depending on what we have," he shrugged. He knew that Ali was hungry herself so in the meantime, Grant grabbed her food and let her feed herself since she liked to do that. "What do you want to eat?" He asked his wife to see if they could figure it out.

Danielle pointed to her husband and gave him a smirk. "I know and see? I'm so proud of you for it. It's good that you can be able to do that--feel safe in your own home because that's all I want you to be. I want you to feel safe with us", she explained to him and sure enough, they were all in the kitchen and she listened to him go on about the dogs. "I think it's cute how she loves them so much and she wants to know where they are. It's like she recognizes them as part of her family." Pulling out some lettuce, tomatoes, and bacon, Danielle showed him her little haul and let out a small smile. "I figure some BLTs would be good. We rarely have them with the amount of bacon we can put in our system. We can have as many as you want too--or some grilled cheeses since we have cheese too." There were so many options and Danielle's arms were getting fuller and fuller which everything she pulled out of the fridge. It was never ending and she looked as though she was trying to pull everything out in just one go.

Grant nodded. "Yeah, it's sweet. They're all so good with them and she adores them. That's why I'm sure her next word is gonna be doggy. I can just feel it. Plus it's close to Dada," he shrugged. He wouldn't mind if it was, finding it to be cute but he wasn't sure how Danielle would feel about it since he knew his wife wanted Ali to desperately say Mama soon. When she started taking things out for BLTs, Grant nodded, completely fine with that. "Can't go wrong with bacon," he said, licking his lips in anticipation. She then started taking out cheese if they wanted grilled cheese as well and soon enough she was taking everything out of the fridge. "I think that's plenty, babe. It's just lunch. We don't need to go crazy here," he chuckled, shaking his head. "But speaking of food, what should we make for our families tomorrow?"

Danielle looked down at her arms and realized that what she was doing. There was a laugh that came from her and Alison as well, but she relented and placed back all of the things that they didn’t need as part of their sandwiches. The bacon would be easy to cook and the lettuce would need to be washed, but she’d do all of that. Grant, to her, just looked absolutely wonderful with Alison in his arms that she didn’t want to do anything that bothered him from it. Instead, as the bacon started frying, she handed her husband a spoon and a jar of baby food so that he’d be able to feed their daughter if he wanted to. “I don’t know about that”, she mused out to her husband when he asked about what they were going to cook tomorrow. It would be the first holiday that they were hosting as a family in their new house and though a lot of the stuff had been done to prepare for it already, there was still a matter of the menu that needed to be done. “Of course it’s always either ham or chicken. We just have to decide by tonight so I can leave whichever out to thaw.” Her tone of voice was soft, like she was lost in her own thoughts, but Danielle was right there and thinking, flipping bacon over before one popped and some oil got onto her hand, and letting out a small yelp when that happened.

Grant started feeding Alison the baby food from the jar, even if she was trying to reach for the spoon to do it herself. "No no, you'll make a mess sweetheart," he said, guiding the spoon to her mouth. He knew if she tried to do it she'd get more food on her face and all over than in her mouth so for now he was going to keep feeding her. "I think we should go with ham, that seems like more of an Easter thing. I feel like we have chicken all the time and I'm sure our families do too. A cooked ham isn't eaten as often and I'm sure we can make it good. With some potatoes and veggies on the side. My mom is going to ask what she could bring too I'm sure," he said to his wife. When she started cooking the bacon, he saw that Danielle got burned from the oil a few minutes later. "Are you okay? Do you want me to do it instead? We can switch, I don't mind."

Danielle shook her head. "It's not bad. It's just the fat popped when the bacon started cooking. It's okay. It's sweet you want to take over, but I can handle it. It's almost done", she said now as she moved the bacon away from the heat source, onto a paper towel so they'd be able to cool down. Now that the sandwiches are done, she had gotten a chance to hand his to him while eating her own, giving him a soft smile afterwards. "It's fine if your mom wants to come into the kitchen as well. You know I don't mind the help and whatever she wants to bring would be great. Are we picking them up later tonight or are they flying in early in the morning? I'm just trying to see how we're going to this. I know my parents are staying with Kay at the condo and are coming tomorrow." It might have seemed mindless, but it was much important that they get the details for tomorrow down. Once she was done, and all of the dishes were in the sink to be washed later, the brunette turned to her husband and bounced on her heels. "What next? The cake or video games?"

Grant nodded when Danielle said she could finish it up since the bacon was almost done cooking. It smelled delicious and Grant couldn't wait to have it on a sandwich. Ali was just about done eating, not wanting to eat anymore so Grant wiped her face and started to burp her so that was taken care of before they would eat. Putting her in a high chair now while they ate, Grant took a bite of his sandwich and hummed in satisfaction. "This is really hitting the spot," he said before licking his lips. "I'm sure she'll help in the kitchen, but if she asks to bring something I'll tell her to bring an appetizer of some sort. Make her happy," he shrugged. "My dad is going to get a hotel, he's probably going to get here later on today actually. But my mom and Gracie are gonna come and stay with us if that's cool. Tyler too but he won't get here until tomorrow morning," he said. "It's convenient that your parents can stay with Kay and get some time with her before tomorrow," he said. "I think I need some time to digest before we start making a cake so I vote video games."

Danielle made sure that everything that her husband said would be put into consideration. She was glad that her extended family would be coming in and made sure that there was room wherever they could put them. Though she was saddened at a point that they couldn't put their whole family in the house, she knew that it was the best possible thing for them all. "We'll set them all up perfectly", she told her husband and soon was leading him out to the living room, with her daughter in her arms, and towards the new game console. Danielle had no idea how to set it up and it was all for Grant anyway. She'd opt to watch him first unless there was a game for the both of them to play. "I think we should keep this one in the living room because then that way we can play with our guests and we'll get you another for your man cave. How does that sound", the brunette asked out, making herself comfortable on the sofa with her daughter in her lap.

Grant nodded. "Tyler can go downstairs in my soon to be mancave. My mom and sister can share a room, or each take their own. We have several up there but they aren't all furnished yet," he said. Now that they were in the living room, Grant sat on the couch once turning the XBOX on and turned on his console. He wasn't sure what to play first but by the looks of it, Danielle was content just watching with Ali so Grant decided to play Fifa. He texted Kyle to see if he was able to play, having the live feature that allowed him to play against his friends. When Kyle agreed, Grant started setting up the game and smiled. "I'm playing against Kyle. Pretty cool right?" He said to his wife before starting to play the game. Grant was getting into it and he even heard his daughter babbling which was hilarious to him since it made it seem like she was paying attention to. It was close but Grant had beaten his friend which made him cheer. "Yes! I won!"

Danielle bounced Alison in her lap and let out a soft yawn. "I think that would be best. We'll just have to figure out when we're going to finish them. There's absolutely no rush after this and even then, if your mother or sister wanted a separate room, we could always get one of those blow up mattresses so they could be comfortable for now", she started out, but now they were able to watch Grant play video games and hear Kyle through the screen. It was more than interesting and Danielle didn't have a clue on how they were able to do it, but it was pretty cool. It was like a phone call during the game and when Grant won the match, Danielle had to let out a yell of her own and clapped her hands together. "Did you see that? Daddy won", she said as she took Alison's hands together and made clapping motions herself. "Can you clap for Daddy? See? Celebrate that he won. That's it."

Grant listened as Danielle said they could always get a blow up mattress or anything else they needed since they still hadn't completed all the rooms. "Yeah, that's true. We'll figure it out. They won't be here until later on anyways," he shrugged. Grant had his phone on him so that if any of his family got to LA, they'd be able to greet them and make sure everything went smoothly. Chuckling as Danielle cheered and had Alison cheering, Grant nodded. "I did, I won," he said, tickling Ali's stomach which made her giggle. A few minutes later, Grant got a text from his mom stating that they had landed. He got her and Gracie a car to bring them to the house so now Grant knew they had to start getting things ready. "Alright, my mom and sister will be here in like a half hour," he said to his wife. "Is there anything we need to do?"

Danielle 's eyes widened when Grant said that her mother and sister in law would be here in such a short amount of time. That meant she had to make sure that the guest rooms were ready. There wasn't much else to be done other than wait for the two women to come, and that was something she couldn't entirely do herself. "We have one room we need to change the sheets in but other than that, I think we have to wait for Mom and Gracie to come to do anything else--but we have that cake we need to get done", she replied out to her husband, teasing him with a smirk of her own before bouncing Alison in her lap once again. The little girl giggled at the notion and it wasn't as if they didn't have time to relax and get some stuff done at the same time. "It's whichever you feel like doing. We're having cake tomorrow too and we're also going to have lots of food tomorrow if you want to put off cake, but we always have things we have to do around the house to clean. I don't want to stress you out. Today is your day. We do whatever it is you want to do."

Grant listened as Danielle spoke, knowing that they would be eating a lot tomorrow and there was no reason to really spend time making a cake now when his family would be there soon. "Yeah, we'll just have it tomorrow. That's fine," he replied, looking around. "There's nothing to clean, why do you keep saying that? We've been in this house three times. Everything is still in order and nothing is dirty," he said to his wife. "There's no point wasting time on doing that when it's just going to look the same," he added. Grant wasn't sure if his mom and sister had eaten anything while traveling so he went into the fridge and cabinet to start pulling out some snacks that they could have once arriving. A little while later, he heard a knock on the door and he smiled, seeing his mom and sister come walking in. "Hey guys! What do you think of our house?" He asked excitedly, hugging his mom tightly.

Danielle furrowed her brows at her husband in confusion, shifting her daughter in her lap now so that Alison would be standing on her legs with her holding her in her arms. “Maybe I’m just nervous about the family coming over”, she told him truthfully. She didn’t want anyone thinking that their house was less than satisfactory when she loved every bit of it to heart. However, all of that had been dropped now that they were going their separate ways. Grant’s work in the kitchen had Danielle curious and tried to change the game system to play music—and when she had gotten it to work, she let out a soft yelp in glee and turned towards Alison who had been laughing at her mother. “I’m not that funny, but thank you”, she said as she bent down to give Alison a kiss on the cheek, but was interrupted by her in laws walking into the house. “Hi Gracie”, she said as she picked up her daughter and headed towards her sister in law, giving the woman an one-armed hug before turning to her mother in law to do the same. “Come in, come in”, she said now, placing a hand on Grant’s arm to move out of the way so that their guests could walk in. “The flight must have been just torturous. Get some rest on the couch and I think Grant made food.”

Grant hugged his mom very tight, especially because of what day it was and not seeing her in a while. "I've missed you," he whispered against her shoulder. "I've missed you too, honey. This place is amazing, wow. You have to give me the whole tour soon," Tina said and Grant nodded. He then went over to hug his sister and chuckled as he heard his mother gushing over Ali already. "I didn't exactly make food but I put out some snacks to have if you guys are hungry," he shrugged, grabbing them from the kitchen and putting them on the living room table instead. After conversing with his family for a while, he gave his mom and Gracie a tour with Danielle and he was happy that they seemed pleased with the house. He showed them where they would be staying for the night and let them get settled in, joining his wife back downstairs. "Anything we need to do to prep for tomorrow before heading to bed?"

Danielle smiled at everything that was happening. With Tina and Gracie gushing over Alison, she was sure that this weekend was going to be the best for the little girl as ever. They caught up and Danielle answered questions when she was asked them and even showed up showing the house and giving everyone a tour that wanted it. Now, it was time to wind down and dinner plans were made and had; now giving time to rest and prep for tomorrow morning. As she rested with her feet underneath her frame now, their little girl upstairs and asleep, Danielle smiled at her husband’s frame coming up towards her. “There’s a lot we need to thaw out”, she told him truthfully with the ham that they were going to have for dinner that night. “But that’s easy enough.” Soon, her bottom lip maneuvered its way in between her teeth and she looked at Grant with a soft smile on her face. There was the matter of the cake and she felt disappointed that they’d have to move it to tomorrow for that, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t bake something that didn’t take a lot of time. “Can I make you cookies”, she asked of her husband.

Grant nodded. "Yeah, we just need to take the meat out to defrost overnight, that's easy," he shrugged. Grant helped Danielle do that so that the meat was on the counter and would be ready to be cooked tomorrow. He couldn't believe they were hosting their first holiday together at their new home in less than 24 hours. Grant was excited but hoped everything went well, wanting their families to have a nice time and believe that they could do this. When Danielle asked him if she could make him cookies, Grant chuckled. "If you want to make me cookies. I'm not gonna say no to that." He smiled, taking a seat at the kitchen counter to watch his wife bake. He found it adorable how she liked to make things for him and maybe this was her way of still making him something as opposed to a cake. "What kind of cookies are you going to make me?"

Danielle moved directly towards the counter to get their stuff ready for tomorrow, but she was most excited about being able to bake cookies. Though it wasn’t a cake, it would be something sweet fo the both of them to share. Right now, the brunette had gotten the basic ingredients to start off with—the flour, sugar, eggs, and whatnot were all on a row with two bowls in between her and her husband on top of the counter. “I don’t know”, she mused out to him when he asked her what sort of cookies she was going to make. “I’m leaning towards sugar, but I wouldn’t be opposed to making chocolate chip if you want that instead.” Cookies were meant to be sweet and she really couldn’t quite fathom not having a sweet cookie in the meantime. “If we do have sugar, there’s icing that we have we can decorate them with. It’ll be fun. We can make the cookies into shapes and decorate them. I may have just decided on what we’re doing.” Danielle gave her husband a sheepish look and a large smile, laughing gently at her own antics.\

Grant listened to his wife voice which options he had when it came to the kind of cookie she was going to make. She mentioned sugar or chocolate chip and Grant loved both so he knew he couldn't go wrong with either. Danielle kept talking and he smirked as she started to figure it out on her own, suggesting that they could decorate some and bake them in different shapes. "I don't think I'm that talented when it comes to baking. I'll help decorate some with icing but you're gonna have to do the rest," he chuckled. "We could even make some for Easter tomorrow to have with dessert. Everyone can see our creations and have some," he suggested. He waited for Danielle to get the dough ready and once they were shaped and in the oven, Grant waited impatiently and started swinging around in the chair he was sitting in.

Danielle nodded her head and quickly made everything that she could for the cookies. There were a ton of different shapes that she hoped would hold. There were hearts, bunnies, and lots of flowers because it was going to be Easter tomorrow and having them throughout the day would be delicious, but there were a few shapes that she hid from her husband until she’d have time to decorate them later. While she was cleaning up, she looked forward to see her husband kicking his feet and swirling around, which caused her to laugh gently. “You look like you’re five just sitting there”, she told him, her tone of voice teasing. “The ways you’re swirling around in your seat makes me wonder if you did that with your mother when she was in the kitchen. Do you want to lick the spatula?” of course she didn’t dare to give it to him because of the raw egg in the cookie dough, but she did bring out tons and tons of tubes of icing so they’d have a chance to decorate them. The cookies were done now and she was more or less focused on them to cool down before she’d move them to plate, but she did spell out Grant in five cookies which she had hid from him earlier.

Grant chuckled when Danielle told him he looked like a five year old waiting for the cookies to be ready. "Maybe because I am at heart," he teased while smirking. "And I definitely did this when I was younger. All the time. And I would steal the first cookie before anyone else knew they were even ready. My mom always found it amusing and we would usually play a game while waiting for them in the oven," he chuckled, shaking his head. She had asked if he wanted to lick the spoon but when she didn't end up giving it to him, Grant pouted. "I would've done it! People lick the spoon all the time and they don't die," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Once the cookies were ready, Grant had to restrain himself from stealing one, knowing they had to be iced first anyway. "My decorating skills are terrible but here it goes..."

Danielle scrunched her nose at her husband. She remembered when they baked with his mother and they were stealing cookies left and right. It was a cute tradition that Grant had and she hoped that her children would inherit it as well, but she would never tell him that. Instead, she just made sure that her husband would be able to have as many as he would like and once the cookies had cooled down enough, she placed the first one onto his plate while she took the other one as well. “Whichever you don’t think is pretty, you can eat. It’s a win for all of us, right? But you get your name no matter what tomorrow. That’s my present to you”, she told him while showing him the letter cookies that she made. It wasn’t much, but it was her present to him on this weekend and she wanted to have just a little bit of special to show for it. “I want to make a Bruins bunny. UCLA. Not the hockey team. I always have to clarify for my alma mater.”

Grant smirked. "What if I purposely mess up the cookies so that I can eat them now instead?" He said, chuckling softly. Grant knew he couldn't do that but he was going to make sure he had a couple, especially since Danielle offered to make him cookies. Once she had made it into an Easter type thing and they could serve some tomorrow, Grant knew it was a good idea but that meant less cookies for him. At least for tonight. When Danielle told him she wanted to make a Bruins bunny, Grant nodded. "You can do that. At this point I assume you mean them, plus I don't watch hockey and I know you don't either so it's not like you would be referring to them," he said. Once the cookies were cool, Grant grabbed one and started to decorate it. The egg shaped ones were the easiest to decorate and Grant was pretty proud of himself for how they were turning out. "This is pretty fun," he said to his wife before taking a bite of another cookie. Grant then grabbed another egg and put his initials in it with Danielle's. "What do you think of this one?"

Danielle nodded her head and took the blue that was there to decorate the bunny cookie that she had. "You know I have to represent the blue and gold", she started out and really got into the groove. Once her bunny was done, she started on the cookies that would spell out her husband's name, only using the good colors that she thought would match. Those would be kept for tomorrow but she turned her attention back to her husband when he showed her the cookie that he was working on. It was an egg that had their initials on them and she smiled. "I think that's an amazing cookie", she spoke out, leaning forward and pressing her lips to his cheek to show him her appreciation for it. "And I think you're an amazing cookie too." Her words grew soft and quiet, and soon she was more content with just working with her husband now, being as great of a team as they were, and soon enough most of the cookies were done on their own accord. "We did it", she told him happily. "We decorated a lot of sugar cookies."

Grant smiled when Danielle said his cookie was amazing. "I almost don't want to eat it. I mean I won't eat it now but I don't want anyone else eating it tomorrow either. They shouldn't eat our initials. We can share it tomorrow, how about that?" He asked his wife, knowing that was the best option. Once they had finished decorating all the cookies, Grant grabbed Danielle's hand and squeezed it gently. "We did, high five," he said, holding his other hand out for her to hit. "I think it's time for bed now so that we're well rested for tomorrow. I'm sure your parents and sister will come bright and early," he muttered, knowing they were early risers. "I gotta check in my dad but I'm sure he'll show up on some point," he said. Once they were upstairs, Grant got ready for bed and got in bed, waiting for his wife. "Our bed is so comfortable and big, I love it," he murmured sleepily.

Danielle pointed towards the cookie and agreed with her husband. "That cookie is ours. It has our name on it and if anyone eats that cookie, we're just going to have problems", she started out, firm in her words. Once they were done and everything was clean for the night, she wrapped her arms around her husband's frame and followed him up the stairs. The house was still and quiet, which was amazing for the new company they had, and she had agreed to go to bed. Her parents were probably at the condo by now with their RV and she didn't want to disturb them if they were resting up for the night. Instead, she'd agree to catch up with them in the morning and followed her husband into bed. "There's so much room, isn't there", she teased out and moved back to lay against him. Though they had so much room, Danielle slept most comfortable when she was beside Grant. Maybe it was getting used to his frame for so long that she didn't have great sleep without him, but either way, she loved being able to be in bed with him. "I think we did good with decorating this room, don't you think?"

Grant nodded as Danielle spoke. "There's so much room, it's amazing. But that doesn't mean I want you far away from me so I'm glad that you're still right next to me," he said, kissing the top of her head gently. Grant had his arm around Danielle now and started getting comfortable, knowing it wouldn't take long for him to fall asleep. He was still trying to catch up on the lack of sleep he had been getting lately and he knew tomorrow would be a very hectic day. "We did, yeah. It's really nice. I think once we're living in it more, we'll start to add even more things but I'm excited that this will be our room for the next couple of months soon. Although I probably won't be in it much for May," he said sadly. Letting out a yawn, Grant reached over to turn the light off before turning on his side to kiss his wife goodnight. "Night baby, love you. Wake me up in the morning so that I can help you get ready."

Danielle let out the same sigh as her husband. She was so proud of him getting to be a part of that movie that she didn’t think about what was going to happen with him not being there until June. “We’ll have to figure out when you’re free”, she whispered out to him. Though they had to go back to work in July, at least they’ll still have June to spend in the house together and decorating. “I think we’re going to have a ton of fun here too.” For a while, she rested alongside of Grant until he leaned over to kiss her. The brunette returned the kiss completely, pouring herself into it until she was able to break for air. “Good night”, she whispered out to him, licking her lips and closing her eyes to enjoy sleep. She didn’t know how long she slept, but the brunette stretched accordingly. The sun was shining and she knew that she should be up to check in on her child, but seeing the camera on the side of her bed saw that Gracie was already up and playing with their daughter, which gave her plenty of time to just relax. Shifting now, Danielle was able to turn and wrap her arms around his frame, nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck, and let out a soft hum.

Grant stirred from sleep when he felt Danielle wrap her arms around him and hum against his skin. He could feel the sun shining through the curtains which meant it was morning and since they had a lot to do before the rest of the family came for dinner and to spend the day, Grant knew he couldn't exactly be lazy in bed all morning as much as he wanted to. "Morning," he whispered out before running a hand through Danielle's hair gently. "Happy Easter," he said happily, reaching down to kiss the top of her head. "I would love to just stay here in bed with you but that's just not possible," he sighed. He saw that Gracie was playing with Ali which made him smile and now he was sitting up, trying to wake himself up a little bit. "Plus we have stuff to give Ali courtesy of the Easter bunny, now don't we?" He smirked, getting up out of bed so that he could get dressed.

Danielle hummed again when Grant's hand went to her hair. It was a strong weakness of hers and she loved every bit of it. She decided to reciprocate and brought her own hand to his hair, brushing the few strands near her fingers and nodded her head. "We have to hide the eggs and tell her the Easter bunny came. That means we have to get up", she whined out and agreed, shifting her weight now and rolled out of bed to get ready. It was their child's first Easter and she was more ready to get that started. "Come on, we gotta get all of the presents and set them up downstairs. And make coffee because I'm pretty sure if Gracie's up, we definitely overslept a bit." Danielle was teasing, but she was sure to make it sound as loving as she meant it. Her hand went out for him, wanting to pull him with her, but the noises through the camera took all of her attention

Grant furrowed his brows. "We're hiding eggs? But she can't even walk or look for them or understand the concept. I thought we were just gonna start out with getting her things from the Easter bunny, even if she won't even know what that is either," he said. "Or maybe she just heard Ali and woke up since their rooms are close to each other. I doubt Gracie got up on her own at an early hour," he said, chuckling softly. Once he was dressed in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, Grant made his way downstairs where he was greeted by no one, Gracie in one of the rooms with Ali and his mother either with them or still sleeping. This gave them time to set things up downstairs in peace which was a good thing and then they would have to figure out something for breakfast. "Do you know when your family is coming?" He asked Danielle so he could be prepared for that.

#theflashgrant #f2f #f2f: theflashgrant #f2f: easter 2017 #its unfinished because im dumb and i got busy u.u

[weneedtherooks]

For Better Or Worse

So, we’re gonna take a short ride on the feels train today! Today we have one solid German word, and that’s süßling. It’s a term of endearment meaning sweetie/sweetheart. Friedrich and Clara had a fight in this one, and they did get a little physical. I don’t describe the argument, just that they’d hit each other. So it’s under a read more, in case that isn’t your cup of tea. As stated in the tags as well, if you’d like me to tag this with something specific, just let me know.

As always, they be thinking to themselves, they be speaking in German.

She heard it more than felt it It stings… She acted before thinking It stings The door flies open He storms out

Silence

The phone started ringing. Alfons looked up from playing with his daughter to see his wife, Sophia, walk over and answer it. “Hello?” he heard her quietly ask, ignoring the rest of the conversation to continue playing with Rosemary. Rose had brought out her dolls, and he’d been whacked with them about four times already. “Da-eeeeeee plaaaaaaaaay!” she squealed, the three year old annoyed at his momentary lapse of attention. “I’m sorry, shhhhhh. Your brother is still asleep.” he whispered, putting his finger to his lips to show her “quiet”. Her little shoulders shrugged, imitating the shushing motion Alfons was making.

“No, I can be over shortly. Just stay put, okay Claire?” Sophie hung up the phone, worry painted across her face. “What’s wrong, süßling?” he asked, a bit concerned with her sudden worry. Sophie sighed. “Clara and Friedrich had some kind of nasty fight. She’s kind of shaken up about it. She said they’d hit each other? It doesn’t sound normal.”

Friedrich had hit Clara? And Claire...hit him back?

“You go to Clara. I will find Friedrich and bring him here.”

---four days later---

Friedrich slouched on the bench, looking up at the sky. Today was….day four. Day four, and the whole thing still felt like yesterday. Maybe I should go back now...perhaps it’s blown over…He sighed, yanking his hat down over his face. No, I doubt it has…

“Hey…”

At the sound of her greeting, he pulled his hat up to see her, doing his best to look at her eyes...and not at the bruise on her cheek. “Hello, Claire…” he answered quietly, sitting up and putting his hat back on top of his head. She’d come out in her house clothes: a plain skirt and henley. She rocked back on the heels of her shoes, her hands behind her back. She didn’t look uncomfortable, but she did look a little lost. Friedrich dug into his pocket. “Do you want a cigarette?” Clara nodded. “Yes, please. I think I may need it…”

Clara sat down, taking the packet of cigarettes and matchbox from Friedrich. The two of them sat in silence, watching the clouds of smoke drift aimless in the light breeze. “Um...how’s your cheek?” she asked quietly, not quite turning her face to look at him. He shrugged lightly, nodding his head in her direction. “It’s nothing...not compared to you. Are you alright?” Clara nodded. “It isn’t as bad as it looks. My skin enjoys making the worse out of every blemish, you know that.” Friedrich smiled a little at the comment.

They sat in silence for a while longer, both of them unsure how to proceed. Clara finally sighed. “Do you remember that one summer? Back in ‘18?” Friedrich nodded. “What about it, exactly?” “We promised that if we ever had a disagreement about something, that we would talk it out like adults.” Oh, THAT. The two of them had damned near gotten into a screaming match. Clara had gotten reckless with her positioning and almost got herself shot. Instead, she got lucky with an amateur marksman. The bullet only grazed past her shoulder. He’d gotten on her for being careless, she accused him of babying her, there was shoving...it had been a mess.

“Yes, I remember. We promised we wouldn’t start shouting or pushing each other. That arguments would be handled in a more rational way.” “We really missed the mark on that one.”

Another bout of silence.

“I shouldn’t have shoved you back like that.”

Friedrich looked at her, shaking his head. “I backed you into a corner. You only responded in kind to that. There was no excuse for my hitting you over it.” “And I shouldn’t have hit back out of frustration at the situation.” They looked at each other, nodding in agreement. She grabbed his hand, playing with the simple ring on his finger. She lifted his hand up to kiss it.  “We both let our tempers get the better of us…” she mumbled against his hand, her voice a little shaky. Tears had started to well up in her eyes. “I knew better than to start shouting, but I’d gotten so frustrated I…” She stopped, closing her eyes to keep from crying. Friedrich cupped her cheek, moving their hands away so he could kiss her. “Yes, you did get frustrated...but I also was unwilling to look at the faults in my opinion. So unwilling that I started to force it on you, and backed you into a corner. I forced you to act defensively...I never, NEVER, should have done that.” he whispered, keeping his face close to hers. She looked into his eyes, tears coming down both of their faces now. “You are my heart and soul, my treasure. The last thing I want is...is for you to be afraid of me.” His voice shook as he spoke. Clara shook her head slightly. “I am not afraid of you...I was scared for us. I could not bear the thought of possibly losing you. I was not thinking when I lashed back at you. I was angry, and I let that anger get the better of me.”

He kissed her once more. “Perhaps we can try the conversation again…?” he asked, standing up. She stood with him, still holding his hand. “I’d like that.” The two of them began to walk back, hand in hand. “Annie’s been looking for you, you know. She hasn’t let me read her book to her at night. Keeps telling me ‘Not the same, Mama’”. Friedrich chuckled. “She won’t let me off easy, will she?” They chuckled, Clara remembering to wipe her face off. She stopped them both to wipe the tears off Friedrich’s face too, kissing the small bruise on his cheek. “Maybe we should go sparring sometime...cover up these bruises with some better ones.” Friedrich laughed, “I swear, you’re the only woman that would even think of such a thing!” Clara smiled, a soft giggle falling from her lips.

They chatted a bit while they walked home, discussing the argument and how to go about future ones better. There would always be disagreements...but next time, there wasn’t going to be any physical fighting. They made sure of it.

#my ocs #shitty dialogue #Clara and Friedrich #Clara Rosenthal #Friedrich Rosenthal #if you'd like me to tag something specific let me know

[katdvs]

“Any time, any place, or anywhere you know that I’ll always be there*.” One choice, one decision, one wish from deep in her heart at Christmas time has led Riley to this time and place with Lucas. *This Gift, 98°

Past Chapters | Cross Posted to FF

Author Note: Sorry this one took so long I was having some computer issues, which I think I might have gotten cleared up—fingers crossed! Only 2 more chapters after this one. Thank you for all the kind words, I seriously have the best readers.

Lucas and Riley do discuss their grief in this chapter.

Song Used 22 by Taylor Swift, thank you HOLLY for the suggestion when I couldn’t access my music library.

Chapter 8

“You don’t know when you’ll be home?” His voice was pained, tight, almost as though he was drowning.

“We don’t know how long the airports will be closed. But Farkle promises he’ll have me on the first possible flight home. I’m so sorry Lucas.”

“Just come home.”

She could hear the fear in the simple precious words. “I will, I promise.”

How many times had Riley replayed that conversation in her mind since Monday night. She couldn’t help but think he didn’t expect her to return. Had he found the journal entries?

A cold knot of guilt grew in her stomach as she looked out the window as her flight landed. She didn’t tell him she was coming home today, she just wanted to get there, have sometime alone with Kevin at his tree and then just hug her kids as tight as possible and then cling to her husband for hours until he forgave her.

Her memories were back, she understood now what her mind had been trying to protect her from all this time.

When she arrived at the ranch it appeared quiet, she figured Lucas was at work while the kids were at school, Harper maybe with one of her grandparents.

As she walked in she could smell something baking, if she didn’t know better she would think it was her award-winning Texas Sheet Cake. She put her bag down and went to the kitchen, she could hear the Taylor Swift song playing as he danced to himself while washing dishes just before the timer for the oven went off.

She was right, it was her Sheet Cake, she watched him pull it out of the oven and set it down to cool. He had a small smile on his face as he picked up a wooden spoon and began to sing along with the song.

“Everything will be alright. If you keep me next to you.”

Riley slipped behind him, hitting the next song on the playlist.

As the music switched Lucas slowly turned around, gasping when he saw his wife reaching out for him as the song that played during their first dance as husband and wife wrapped around them, “Riley, you’re home.”

“Of course, I am.” She pulled him towards her when he accepted her hand, his thumb gently rubbing over her knuckles.

He breathed her in, enjoying the feel of her against him as they slowly moved to the music, “I saw the letter on your laptop, I was afraid you wouldn’t come back.”

“I was venting my frustrations, my anger, my grief, I felt like I failed you, and Kevin.” She confessed as she closed her eyes bracing herself for whatever came next.

Lucas pulled her into a tight embrace, his eyes clouded with tears as a sob heaved in his chest, “You didn’t fail me, or him.”

“I know.” Riley clung to him, “But knowing that doesn’t mean I didn’t feel like I did.”

Lucas pulled away, dropping to his knees, his head resting against her stomach, “No Riley, no, you didn’t. You could never and have never failed me or the kids.”

She could feel his tears soaking through her shirt as her fingers combed through his hair. “Lucas, babe, please stop crying. I’ve cried enough the last few days, I don’t want to cry anymore.”

He pulled away just enough that he gave Riley the space to drop to her knees as well, cupping his face with her hands, draping her arms on his shoulders, “I know I didn’t fail you, or Kevin. Farkle, said something to me that made me feel so much better after the grief swept over me again, we made a perfect angel. Kevin is watching over us, he might have been our youngest, but I know he’s protecting all of us.”

Lucas stared into those chocolate eyes that had stolen his heart so many years ago, on an early morning subway ride, “You remember?” it was only now hitting him what was happening, “What do you remember?”

“Everything” She smiled as she searched the meadow green eyes that she could swear were part of her very own soul, “I remember our wedding vows, I recall picking the names for our children, the way we just knew she would be a Calliope, or when we were walking along to trees, and I just looked at you and said, his name is Lucas-Joseph.”

“How do you remember? I was starting to believe it would never come back?”

Riley closed her eyes as she rested her forehead against his, “That session thing with Maya, the words came out and then the memories flooded me. And all I wanted to do was get home to you and the kids, but the snow, oh Lucas I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much snow.”

Lucas caressed her face, his fingers tracing the outlines of her features as he studied her. “I was so scared, I don’t know what I would do in this world without you.”

“You don’t have to find out. I promise, I’m here Lucas, I’m here with you, our children, and I’m not leaving again. I remember our life, I remember the joy and the pain.” She took his hand bringing it to her lips and kissing his palm, one that was calloused from years working the ranch, tree farm, and taking care of the animals. A hand that had touched her more times than she could ever care to count, but still sent waves of delight through her.

“Promise me that if something is upsetting you we’ll talk about it. If you need me home more, tell me, I could always hire a junior doctor, it’s probably time I did anyways.”

“Let’s just take it one day at a time for right now, we’ll see how things are going, we’ll make any decisions on what is actually happening, not on what ifs.” She let her fingers trail down his jawline, “Let’s go sit with Kevin for a little bit, then the kids will be home.”

Lucas nodded as he helped her up from the floor, he kissed her forehead before leading her out the backdoor.

Riley breathed in the fresh air as they went down the back steps, moving down the back pathway, stopping in front of the small oak tree. She could see the angel figurine she’d placed under it the day she and Lucas planted it.

They sat on the ground, Riley in front of Lucas, his arms wrapped around her as they sat in silence. A gentle warm wind blowing around them. Tears in their eyes as they spoke, but comfort in being with each other.

“I know you’re watching out for all of us my angel.” Riley kissed two of her fingers before resting them on the statue before she and Lucas went back to the house.

Lucas ran a hand over his hair, “So, what do we do now?”

Riley smiled, “You’ve only made one sheet cake babe, we need two more.”

He stared at her, “Two more, do you know what I had to do to make this?”

Riley giggled, “It’s a prize-winning recipe buckaroo, I know what it takes.”

Lucas picked her up, spinning her around as she laughed, it was music to his ears before he set her down, “Riley Emily Friar, you amaze me.”

“You Lucas Merlin Friar amaze me, you always have, you always will.”

Calliope got out of her Grandmother’s car before helping Harper out of her seat. She missed her Mommy who had been gone much longer than it seemed anyone was expecting. LJ was already running up the stairs expecting to find their Mommy, but Calliope knew they wouldn’t find her waiting for them. She just hoped she would be home for Christmas, and that Daddy wouldn’t be sad anymore.

Sure, her Mommy didn’t remember them well, but even though she hadn’t been the same since the incident with Jasmine, that didn’t mean she didn’t love them, and that they didn’t love her.

“Mommy!” Harper’s cry startled Calliope as she dropped her bookbag on the ground and ran towards the kitchen.

Her Mommy was hugging Harper and LJ while her Daddy was taking cakes out of the oven. Was this real, this couldn’t be real, could it? “Mommy?” Calliope stood at the doorway, watching as her mother looked up and then released the younger children before coming over and embracing her.

“My sweet muse how I have missed you so much.” Riley kissed the top of her daughter’s head, “I’m so very sorry I was gone for so long, so sorry.”

Calliope wasn’t sure but she thought maybe her Mommy was crying, but why? “I missed you Mommy.” She held onto her mother tightly, ignoring the fact that Harper and LJ were also hugging her.

“Okay guys, give Mommy some room to breathe.” Lucas warned, “Go get washed up, I would offer you a snack but we all know Grandma probably gave you some sweets.”

“Me, never.” Reva had been right behind the children, bringing in some toys Harper had with her.

Lucas rolled his eyes, “This woman barely let me have any kind of sweet as a kid, but the grandkids she’ll fill them up on cookies.”

“That’s why he’s so obsessed with cake.” Riley watched her children run down the hall to the bathroom.

“I can see that you’ve got some cooling right now.” Reva looked around, “Are you two okay?”

“We are.” Riley took Lucas’ hand in hers, “We will be, we’re together and that’s all that matters.”

“Good, good.” Reva nodded and then smiled, “Still want me to take the kids tomorrow night like we discussed yesterday Riley.”

“If you don’t mind, it would be nice if they spent a night with you guys.” Riley bit her lower lip.

Reva let out a small chuckle, “It’s no problem at all sweetheart, I think the two of you could use some alone time for a night, and tomorrow is a good night with the dance and all.”

“Thank you, Reva, I appreciate it.” Riley hugged her mother-in-law, “Now I’m going to go check on the kids, excuse me.”

Lucas studied his mother, “You knew she was going to be home today?”

“Yeah, I did, she wanted to surprise you. She had a feeling you were worried about something. Which I will never understand the two of you always worried about the other.” Reva cupped Lucas’ chin in her hand, “You love her and she loves you, you have three beautiful children, and I know that the grief can sometimes swallow you in a way you don’t understand, but don’t let it destroy you.”

“Mommy you won’t go away again, will you?” LJ dried his hands as he waited for his sisters to finish washing up.

“Oh baby, I promise I am not leaving again anytime soon. I missed you all far too much to be away from you.” She kissed the top of his head, “Come with me I got you guys all something very special while I was in the city.”

Riley brought the kids into the living room, “Lucas come in here please.”

“Just a second I’m walking Mom to the door.” He called out and a moment later found his wife and children sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace. “What’s going on?”

“Mommy said she got something for us in New York.” LJ sat on Lucas’ lap as soon as his Daddy had sat down.

“This should be interesting.” Lucas looked to his wife, not sure what she could’ve or would’ve gotten them.

“These are very special items, I think you’re all old enough now to have them.” Riley took out three small Tiffany blue boxes. “Lucas-Joseph this is for you.”

LJ took the box and stared at it for a moment before opening it and finding a cross that matched the one his Daddy wore, “It’s just like yours.” He looked up into the green eyes that mirrored his own.

“It sure is buddy.” Lucas helped him remove it from the box and put it on, “Keep is safe and close to your heart.”

“Girls you can open yours.” Riley watched them as the opened the boxes and each discovered their own crosses that matched the one she wore.

“Mommy it’s beautiful.” Calliope studied it, “And its just like yours.”

“Yes, except for one small thing.” Riley moved to show them the engraving on the back, “The two of you are sisters, hold on to that, it’s a special bond unlike any other in the world.”

“Thank you, Mommy,” Harper hugged her, just enjoying having her Mommy back, really back.

“You are welcome Sugar Pop.” Riley kissed the top of her head before helping each girl put on their necklaces. “I love you all so very much, please don’t forget that.”

“We won’t Mommy.” LJ moved from his Daddy’s lap to his Mommy and hugged her tightly.

The kids were in bed, tucked in and safely dreaming about Christmas which was only a few days away. Riley stood at the bedroom window, looking out as the moonlight washed over the ranch and in the distance, she could see the lights from the tree farm turn off.

Lucas came up behind her, “So, why do you want to be alone with me tomorrow night, that you had to get my parents to take the kids?”

“If you must ask it’s been far too long, which is has been.” She relaxed as he held her. “I was never going to leave, not really.”

“I know that now, but I was scared Riley.” He confessed

“Maya had started to email me after we lost Kevin, you know how she’s always been able to get to my insecurities, and she did.” Riley confessed, “Lucas she’s a mess, and she thinks she wants me.”

“What do you mean she wants you?” Lucas watched as his wife moved towards the fireplace, her fingers moving across the mantle.

Riley turned to him, “She wants me the way that you have me.”

Lucas was silent for a moment, “Maya wants you, oh.”

“Yeah, I was kind of thrown by that. It never occurred to me.”

“Really, never, not once?” Lucas shook his head, “I do think a lot of people suspected there was something between the two of you that wasn’t exactly friends or sisters.”

“You think so, really?”

“I know so.” Lucas sat on the bed, “Sometimes when we were younger I thought I might lose you to her, that she might be the one in your heart and not me.”

Riley sat on his lap, watching the way his lips turned up in a smile. “The first time I found myself in your lap you found a way into my heart, like a string and it just kept pulling us towards each other, repeatedly. Nothing has ever been able to sever it, nothing and nobody ever will.”

Lucas rested his face against her neck, his lips planting soft kisses.

“Lucas” she giggled, ���Save it for tomorrow night.”

“Why” he pouted as he felt her pull away.

Their bedroom door opened only a second later and Harper came in with her teddy bear, “Mommy, Daddy, I had a bad dream.”

Riley looked to Lucas, “This is why, come on Sugar Pop get on in.”

Harper crawled into the bed finding a spot in the middle as she watched her Daddy and Mommy both get into the bed before her Daddy turned off the light.

“Sweet dreams Harper.” Lucas kissed the top of her head before he put his arms around his youngest daughter and his wife.

Riley watched as they both fell asleep, and she couldn’t imagine anything else in the world could ever make her feel this happy, this full of peace.

#A Christmas Wish #Riley Matthews #Lucas Friar #Girl Meets World #Rucas #Rucas Fanfic #GMW Fanfic