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punkscowardschampions · 3 years

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Rio & Buster

Rio: I just got the last of my stuff from Dan’s… so that’s officially dealt with and done

Rio: You said your parents had a conference THIS weekend, right?

Buster: Yeah? So he’ll still be crying by then, but you don’t have to be, ‘cause I did say that, they’re [deets] all weekend

Rio: You don’t need to concern yourself with how he is or isn’t feeling ever again, sweet as that is, babe

Rio: Great, because I have likewise just finished convincing my mum that Nance needs some quality girl time and she, for some reason, can’t come here as per and I NEED to go to yours

Rio: I can even pull a sickie Monday so Sunday can really count too

Buster: The party I’m gonna throw is a perfect cover for why you’ve gotta be here with Nance, there ain’t a bigger cunt move than inviting everyone from school to swarm all over our house, and it’ll work for how loudly you’re gonna wanna tell me you miss me when you can get a second away from her

Rio: Even if her go-to is locking herself in her room, I’ll convince her it’ll be more fun to join in

Rio: hers is not the room I don’t wanna leave the whole time I’m there, like

Rio: 🤔 I might be able to invite some people to come hang with her

Rio: Your party will have plenty to offer for people that aren’t me, yeah?

Buster: ‘Course, it’s me hosting it, it’ll have everything

Rio: I won’t oversell it quite that hard 😏

Rio: but I know people who’ll be down

Rio: Ava went with them, or is she coming here?

Buster: Get her drunk and you can come see me play on Sunday before she’s even awake to realise you’re gone

Buster: Ava’s going to a friend’s after school on Friday ‘til they get back, probably having her own kid party, like

Rio: I can just wanna drool over the other lads on your team

Rio: she’ll think that’s standard straight girl behaviour and not bother to get out of bed for it

Rio: Cute

Buster: You can wanna before you’ve seen any of ‘em, yeah

Buster: Long as she steers clear of the Brandy in her friend’s parents drinks cabinet, it’ll be fine

Rio: The whole squads busted? Awkward

Rio: Luckily you know my actual motivation to get up at the crack of dawn

Rio: Undoubtedly, she’s smarter than us

Rio: I know all my siblings make me feel like a total idiot in comparison

Buster: Compared to me

Buster: She’s less reckless than me, but less cautious than Nance, as combinations go, I reckon she’ll do alright with that

Buster: I ain’t sorry for living dangerously though and an idiot is the last thing I feel like

Rio: I don’t need to see them to know that

Rio: Good, because if you were going to turn around and tell me not to come already…

Rio: I was scared you’d get back to London and not talk to me again like before

Rio: like, I didn’t think you would with my rational brain but that other 10% or whatever

Buster: I was thinking you’d not be able to get to London without the excuse of someone getting married or born or dying, shouldn’t have underestimated you, or how much my sister didn’t wanna come back

Rio: Mum is pretty chill, it’s more explaining it when your parents are about

Rio: or when you suddenly want to come here again

Buster: Thank Christ they never are

Rio: It does work in our favour

Rio: and if I wanna see the sights, no one is going to be mad at me staying safe and staying with family to do so, right?

Rio: it’s mainly Nance who we need to worry about

Buster: We don’t have to worry about anything, she’s preoccupied with her own shit

Rio: Yeah, can’t argue with that

Rio: or blame her

Buster: That said, we won’t take unnecessary risks

Rio: When you put it like that, I obviously want to

Rio: only the necessary ones then

Rio: because some are

Buster: Right now they all feel like they are

Rio: Tell me about it

Rio: I feel like I’ve barely been here because I wanna be with you so bad

Buster: Alright, I’ll tell you about how I hard I get when I think about seeing you again so I couldn’t come to the airport even armed with the best excuse to ‘cause a glimpse of you would mean I’d have no choice but to stay in the car and then immediately pile all your suitcases on top of me

Rio: Now I’m going to miss you even more on the drive to yours

Rio: How am I not going to just jump on you as soon as I see you

Buster: I’ll make sure you don’t see me until you can

Rio: Is it better to have the party in full-swing when I arrive or is there any chance we can be properly alone before?

Rio: Could ask Nance to get snacks and stuff for my arrival, that’s a believable amount of cheek from me and would get her out of the house for at least long enough to say hello properly if we time it right

Buster: We’ll time it right then, just ‘cause she ain’t throwing a party don’t mean she can get away with being a shit host

Rio: I think that makes sense

Rio: your friends aren’t going to just ignore me straight away, that’s just facts not being cocky

Rio: so it might take a while to get lost during

Buster: Yeah, they don’t all show up wasted, some of ‘em can handle their pre-drinks

Rio: I should hope so, even if they’re all posh boys

Rio: otherwise the friends I’m gathering could be unimpressed enough to trash your place and that isn’t the energy we’re looking for

Buster: Only if we could convince Nance to handle the clean up on her own and the line of how much of a pushover she is has gotta be drawn somewhere

Rio: I somehow can’t see it

Rio: especially as they’re meant to cheer her up, not do the opposite

Rio: At least your place is big

Buster: And I’ve only got the one sibling getting in our way, it’s fucking never-ending at yours

Rio: There is double the amount of us compared to yous

Rio: If I can handle them, this will be easy

Buster: Exactly

Rio: When we go to your match, can we go somewhere after, get some breakfast or something

Buster: My victory ain’t gonna celebrate itself, babe, and I know just the place

Rio: I’m excited 😁😁

Rio: For all of it, not just the promise of breakfast, obviously

Buster: I’d do more if I could, I want to, but it’ll look weird if I take you shopping or whatever before Nance can

Rio: I know

Rio: we can’t take those kind of risks yet

Rio: It’ll be easier when we’re a bit older and me showing up on a whim to shop is more plausible

Rio: I swear this is the worst age to be, no one totally trusts you to be an adult but you don’t get treated like the kids either when they want you to be ‘grown up’ 🙄

Buster: There has to be a way we can go from everyone believing we hate each other to not thinking it’s fucked we wanna spend time together like we used to without having to wait that long

Rio: You’d think but I can’t 🤔

Rio: Unless you want your whole perception with the rest of the fam to change too

Rio: Obviously it’s fine that we’ve got more in common, we’re closest in age

Rio: but if you don’t give the rest the time of day at all, that’ll raise eyebrows

Buster: I taught them all how to fight and play football, didn’t I? It ain’t my fault Grace isn’t into any of that, or that Nance and your brother are the real anti-social ones

Rio: Yeah, but that was a while ago now

Rio: I doubt anyone would say anything but it’ll probably be weird you showing up at fam functions again for a while

Rio: but only in a way that ultimately benefits you, they’ll think you’re growing up and being all mature

Buster: Fuck’s sake, I can hear everyone now, the bullshit they’d have to say

Rio: Yeah, it’ll make you wanna die

Rio: but I’ll make it worth it

Buster: You already have, I’ll do it for you, I’d do anything

Rio: You know I will for you too

Rio: Including ditching your sister as much as is possible without being a total bitch

Buster: She’s still as heavy a sleeper as she always was

Rio: That is a theory we’re going to have to test

Rio: There’s zero chance I can promise to be quiet all weekend

Buster: Me either, but I like our odds after my solo tests

Rio: That was so 🤓 sounding but also 🤤

Rio: Rude

Buster: Call it preparation, that’s who I am here, like

Rio: I know who you are

Buster: Good, don’t forget ‘cause of who I have to be

Rio: Up until very recently you were still treating me like you hated me, remember

Rio: I can handle it

Buster: You’ve never been here, however I’ve treated you at family functions is still toned down, Nance doesn’t hate me for no reason, you know

Rio: I’m not her though

Buster: I don’t want you to have to handle it anymore, that’s all

Rio: You have to do what you have to do

Rio: You live there, I don’t

Rio: Say what you want to your friends

Buster: Okay

Rio: It is okay

Rio: I mean, what’s the alternative?

Rio: I understand why you have to

Buster: Like you said, this age is shit, there won’t be an alternative until we’re older

Rio: Yeah, if you even think about treating me like this when you go to Uni

Rio: I don’t care what your friends think about me

Rio: it’s not like I plan to just take it anyway

Buster: You didn’t have to be so hot about it or get me thinking about how incredible the future is gonna be when the present is torturous enough

Rio: Yeah I did

Rio: can’t have you forgetting how you really feel about me

Rio: Maybe you can just stay at Uni forever

Rio: it’s practically expected you won’t keep in touch or come home enough

Rio: we can be together every day, with no one around to interrupt us

Buster: That’s settled then

Rio: 😄🥰

Buster: What time’s your flight?

Rio: [a time early enough that the party won’t be on and we’re keen

but not so early Nancy will be like umm can you not come then lol]

Buster: You really want me to keep feeling a type of way about you, yeah?

Rio: That should be obvious by now

Rio: You can’t get sick of me ever

Buster: It should be obvious by now that I won’t

Rio: Don’t

Rio: Everything’s changed for good

Rio: I have

Buster: Even if I still wanted to pretend, I can’t, I barely could before, it’s not gonna happen, Rio

Rio: Me either, I’m scared I can barely pretend as much as we need to to stop doing it in private

Rio: never mind fully going fucking back

Buster: You’ll do what you have to as well, I know you and what you can handle even if I don’t like that it’s the way things are

Rio: I’m sick of thinking about what I have to do, what I need is you

Buster: You’ve got me, whether you’re here or not, whatever else is going on in your head or what bullshit is happening around us, I’m with you for it

Rio: I love you

Buster: I love you too

Rio: What kind of thing do Chelsea girls wear to house parties then?

Buster: Nothing you ever would

Buster: It's really bad, like

Rio: 😂

Rio: Okay, I’ll look good and stand out instead of trying to match the energy then

Buster: There really ain't no alternative in this instance, babe

Rio: You won’t be into my cosplay, noted 😏

Buster: Not unless it was the school uniform you were planning on nicking, anything else they wear isn't gonna do fuck all for either of us

Rio: Obviously I have that outfit

Rio: If you can think of any valid reason I’d have that packed, like

Buster: Insisting on costumes before my birthday is a weird flex but I've done worse

Rio: They’d be fuming at the lack of notice

Rio: plus I’d never convince your sister to leave her room if she has to wear a stupid costume

Rio: next time

Buster: I do wanna see what you're gonna wear for me when you're not also dressing for a wedding/Easter egg hunt

Rio: Good thing you aren’t the only one who can rise to the challenge under pressure

Rio: I’m pretty sure I know exactly what you like, as I’ve had to dress to get your attention for years now

Rio: It’s how much attention you want your friends to be paying me too

Buster: However you dress all eyes will be on you anyway, from the moment you walk in, I can and will give you every compliment on what you’re wearing and how you look, obviously, but it ain’t stopping there

Buster: It’s everything else too, from the way you move to what you do and don’t say, it’s exactly what I like ‘cause I’ve got good taste, and if they’ve got any, they’re gonna wanna rise to the challenge of trying to get your attention

Rio: You’re the one who always knows exactly what to say

Rio: I’m so lucky

Rio: so they can try, no one but you registers for me

Buster: It’s not luck, what I say is in direct response to you and how you make me feel, the try hard girls ‘round here who haven’t ever registered for me would be lucky to get a second of eye contact Buster: You know you deserve every word and gesture

Rio: I’d attempt sympathy if I didn’t know how bitchy they were

Buster: Don’t or I’d have be more serious in offering it to the paperboy

Rio: 😏

Rio: I think I feel bad enough for both of us, it’s fine

Buster: No it ain’t, you’ve got fuck all to feel bad about, he wasn’t good enough for you, end of

Rio: I can still feel sorry for him

Rio: Obviously it was the right thing to do

Buster: He’ll feel sorry enough for himself for not keeping hold of you, as he should

Rio: Bless him

Buster: He’s not someone to waste any more of your time thinking about, like I said, it’s his loss

Rio: I’m not

Rio: All I really think about is you

Buster: As long as you’re not feeling sorry for me

Rio: I have a bit more self-esteem than that, babe

Buster: If you don’t now you will when you get here

Rio: You wouldn’t risk it if I wasn’t worth it

Rio: Likewise

Rio: There’s no pretending you aren’t just

Rio: everything I want

Buster: It’s not a risk ‘cause we won’t get caught, but I’d want you even if it was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done instead of the only thing that makes sense

Rio: You know what I mean though

Rio: even if we never get caught

Rio: it could still be a total headfuck

Buster: Nothing’s gonna change my mind, however much of a headfuck it is, we’ll handle it, it’s not gonna be worse than what we’ve already had to

Rio: Seeing you before was honestly tortuous

Rio: as much as I’d dread what you would say, how much you’d ignore me and I’d have to ignore you

Rio: I also wanted to savour every second of it and it was never long enough

Buster: Seeing who you’d bring nearly killed me every time, and them, but as much as I wanted them to fuck off, it was the thought that you’d follow ‘em out if they did that I dreaded most, ‘cause yeah, for all the family functions, there was still never enough time even with every second I then spent reliving it later

Rio: I never did though

Rio: I couldn’t miss anything, even if all I missed was more ignoring

Buster: Don’t act like I could ever really ignore you

Rio: Didn’t you sometimes believe it

Rio: Think you were convincing yourself that there was something there that wasn’t

Buster: I sometimes believed you wanted me to

Rio: Exactly, we both must’ve ‘wanted’ that on some level some of the time

Rio: even if we really wanted the opposite, both could be true, you know

Buster: I don’t just do whatever the hell I want, contrary to popular belief, you know

Rio: Of course I do

Rio: This is big

Buster: I knew what I wanted then, now and always

Rio: I just wish things were simpler

Rio: but they aren’t, and I can and will handle how they are

Buster: How I feel is the part that is, and I’ll do whatever I can to keep the rest as simple as possible for you

Rio: This is better than what we were doing, that’s a start

Buster: Yeah, but I can do better

Rio: I don’t know if I can handle better 🥴

Buster: I definitely don’t believe that, babe

Rio: We’ll have fun working out who’s right

Buster: I am, but you won’t mind being proved wrong

Rio: I need it to be the weekend NOW

Buster: I can’t give you that, which is making me angry, so where are you now?

Rio: Home

Rio: Meant to be doing homework

Buster: Anyone else meant to be doing it with you?

Rio: Even if there was, you know they aren’t

Buster: [Obviously call her cos you miss her and are extra]

Rio: I love hearing your voice

Buster: It was starting to feel like forever since I’d heard yours

Rio: Day to day is so normal and boring without you I don’t even know what to do

Buster: I’ll have to keep doing what I can to make sure you’re not bored

Rio: The problem isn’t you it’s everything else

Rio: you’re never boring

Buster: Which is exactly why it’s a problem I can solve by helping you forget about everything else

Rio: I love you

Rio: so, do you actually like any of your friends or what’s the craic

Rio: I’ll be less rude to those ones if you do

Buster: Of course I don’t, what’s to like?

Rio: I don’t know, I’ve never met them

Rio: I know the people Nancy particularly dislikes, if only by name

Rio: but they’re actually your quote unquote friends, some of them might be okay, to you anyway

Buster: Come on, don’t underestimate yourself, you’ve met me and admitted to checking my socials regularly

Buster: You’ll be as good a judge as I am who to avoid at the weekend and who you could take a shot with without risking that boredom again

Rio: I was mainly giving you a chance to talk about it

Rio: I doubt anyone else is asking

Buster: And I’m giving you the chance to make up your own mind, I already said don’t feel sorry for me

Rio: I will regardless

Rio: and you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to

Buster: I know I don’t, like you don’t need my permission to treat any of the partygoers however you want to, whether I reckon they’re a cunt or not

Rio: You don’t need to be sarky about it

Buster: You don’t need to be patronising about it either, like, how that shit is is how it’s been for long enough that I know what I’m doing

Rio: I wasn’t being patronising, I was trying to talk to you but I won’t fucking bother then

Buster: That’s an impossibly quick turnaround from me not having to talk about it if I don’t want to, but fine

Rio: We’ve talked about stuff like that before

Rio: I told you how I don’t feel like one of them properly either here; so what, you suddenly don’t want to talk to me about anything important?

Buster: What do you want me to say? I’m not drunk now and I’m not Nance

Rio: Fine

Rio: I have things I should be doing anyway

Buster: Don’t be like that, you know I wanna talk to you about everything, it doesn’t mean it’s that simple

Rio: If you didn’t want to, then just say that

Rio: You don’t need to turn it into a whole thing and act like I’m the idiot for asking

Buster: That’s what I do, or did, before

Rio: Old habits and all that, sure

Buster: I’m sorry, to start a new one

Rio: Okay, we can rewind to before that whole part of this conversation

Buster: No, you’re right, we should talk about it, otherwise what I said about being able to do better, anything I’ve said to big myself up, is bullshit and I might as well get a paper round too

Rio: There’s nothing wrong with a paper round 😏

Rio: I’m not asking you to be ‘perfect’

Rio: whatever that even is

Rio: I just genuinely thought you might want to talk about it, that’s all

Buster: As a kid, but however immature that lot are, I ain’t one any more and I don’t wanna be dragged down to their fucking level, ‘cause I’m above it

Buster: So are you, my definition of perfect at least, I wanna be someone who deserves you, not the kind of cunt who feels so powerless all he can do is bitch and moan about it, but I know lashing out at being backed into a corner ain’t no better this time or what I want either, not when you’re the target

Buster: There’s usually something I can actually do, options I have, that’s who I am, but keeping the two worlds separate isn’t gonna work now that you’re the centre of both

Rio: You already deserve me, no conditions

Rio: but I’m not going to hold you to the standard you have to be with your friends, or judge you for doing it, I’d do the same

Buster: I told you they bring out the worst in me, there are no standards

Rio: How else are you meant to fill your time

Rio: We’re teenagers, not adults just because we’re not kids

Rio: You don’t have to judge yourself that harshly for it

Buster: Why not? Everyone else is, including you not long ago

Rio: It’s not something your parents can really get on board with

Rio: and only because you were being a twat to me, that’s not necessary to the rest of it, surely

Buster: I didn’t mean them, but whatever

Buster: It was all connected, part of what I had to do

Rio: No one’s gonna thank you for being a prick, especially if they can’t see your reasoning and motivations

Rio: Maybe she should be able to but she’s preoccupied with her own feelings towards it all

Rio: If you’re fed up of feeling like the bad guy, you have to find time when you ain’t, or of course you’re gonna feel like that’s who you actually are

Buster: I know

Rio: I don’t think you’re the bad guy

Rio: Ava doesn’t

Buster: She doesn’t yet, there’s loads of time for it though before I’m done with school and everyone there

Rio: Respectfully, I don’t think you’ll have to fail to protect her from bullies

Rio: Not that it is that simple, but you know what I’m saying

Rio: She’ll be, what, 12/13, when you get done with school, it’s not gonna happen

Buster: That’s not the only way to be a prick is all I’m saying

Rio: Go on

Rio: Why else do you reckon Nancy doesn’t like you now

Buster: Old habits die hard, like you said, and I’ve formed plenty she reckons are bad hanging out with them and if you’ve got things you should be doing it’d be quicker to speculate on what she don’t hate about me by this point

Rio: She’s probably jealous, though it would not be worth pointing that out

Rio: even if she thinks they’re the worst, you still have people to do stuff with and she doesn’t

Buster: Everyone who meets me is, difference is, she knows it’s not effortless, I keep my schedule full, with the good as well as the bad and put work in while she’s doing fuck all but feeling sorry for herself and jealous of what I’ve got

Rio: I think she tries, or at least did try

Rio: but it wasn’t exactly working for her so why bother at this point, right

Buster: You can’t just try once and give up, yeah I scored first time but it took ages before I knocked someone out in the ring, ‘course you’re gonna get nowhere if you don’t make what you want happen

Rio: I don’t think she wants it though

Rio: you’re making the best out of a bad situation, yeah

Rio: but she’d rather not, that doesn’t mean she loves being friendless, just it’s slightly preferable to being friends with people she doesn’t like

Buster: Nobody’s saying she has to be friends with them, the whole school ain’t against her, she’s got other options

Rio: I’m not saying she’s fully in the right, no way

Rio: She just can’t see further than what they say right now

Buster: I’ve done what I can to make her see sense

Rio: I know

Rio: I just don’t think that’s gonna happen, I’m sorry

Buster: Don’t worry, I wasn’t holding my breath or anything, I know which battles are worth picking

Rio: You’ll get there, just probably not for a while

Rio: She needs to sort herself out, it’s literally not your battle

Buster: Tell me something I don’t know, like

Rio: You clearly do feel a bit responsible

Rio: even if you could have done some things different, doesn’t mean this wouldn’t have still happened and she wouldn’t still feel like this

Buster: She’s my sister, I do have a responsibility to look out for her, but that don’t mean she’s not responsible for making it worse for herself after I’ve done everything I can to try and sort it out

Rio: I don’t disagree

Buster: Good

Rio: I’ll keep talking to her anyway

Rio: even if it doesn’t achieve much either

Buster: If anyone could get through to her it’d be you, I haven’t forgot about any the shit you managed to talk me out of when we were younger

Rio: I wasn’t that much of a fun sponge though thank you

Rio: I said yes to plenty of things too 😏

Buster: Just the things I should probably thank you for, if it wasn't more fun to focus on what you've said yes to, especially recently

Rio: It is more fun to say yes to you, especially recently

Rio: ‘scuse me whilst I enjoy the flashback 🤤🤤🤤

Buster: It's only gonna get more fun

Buster: I can't believe you're actually coming here but the frequency of those flashbacks will keep it feeling real

Rio: Sometimes it’s hard to differentiate from all the fantasies and daydreams from before though, they felt so real

Rio: [pic] that should help

Buster: It’s definitely proof I didn’t need that you won’t have any problem living up to the years of dreams I’ve had

Rio: That’s all I want right now

Rio: I can prove to you how worth it this is all going to be

Buster: It’s always fun to give you what you want, as long as you know you don’t actually have anything left to prove, I knew how worth it this is and would be before you’d ever even touched me

Rio: I have to keep proving it, I can’t take this or you for granted

Rio: I never thought this would actually happen

Rio: I’m not going to waste a second being second best, trust me

Buster: You won't, trust me, there's nobody you could come second to, this is happening 'cause we're joint first and I've never met anyone else I could say that about with a straight face

Rio: It makes perfect sense, when you think about it

Rio: Who else?

Rio: There’s no one else like you and no one else like me

Rio: We’ve both tried

Buster: Exactly, and now the only regret I have is how long I spent fighting against it

Rio: Even if I could fight it longer

Rio: I don’t want to, it’s exhausting

Buster: We don’t have to, Thank Christ, keeping it a secret will seem loads easier by comparison

Rio: Seriously

Rio: not to mention it has all the potential to be kinda fun and pretty hot

Rio: because we won’t get caught, so we can just enjoy the thrill for what it is

Buster: I object to kinda fun and pretty hot, but when we don’t get caught and you’re enjoying the thrill I’ll get you to be much more enthusiastic, like

Rio: 😅

Rio: I’m not as good with words as you, poor baby

Rio: it’s so unfair

Buster: Nah, I object to that too, you’re incredible with words and actions

Rio: Actions, I’ll agree to

Rio: Words I’ll work on

Rio: not everyone likes that

Buster: There’s nothing you need to work on

Rio: 🤏🥺

Buster: I don’t have a single complaint

Rio: I just wanted to hear you say that 😋

Buster: I’ll tell you how perfect you are as many times as you want

Rio: ‘til you can’t speak

Buster: Losing my voice is the only thing that’ll stop me

Rio: Challenge accepted

Rio: I can make it happen before that point

Buster: I’d still be able to use actions to tell you though, the actual challenge would be anyone or anything stopping me doing that

Rio: I definitely can’t pack handcuffs

Rio: LOVE to see their faces at the airport, like

Buster: We’ll think of something else to use that either you can pack or I already have in my room

Rio: I can’t believe I’ve never been in your room

Rio: still weird to think about

Buster: Yeah, like you said, some of the fantasties felt so real

Rio: I wish I could stay in there with you

Buster: Once Nance is asleep you can

Rio: I know, I just don’t wanna think of you on your own

Buster: You won’t get a chance to think about anything like that, don’t worry

Rio: Okay, so what DO I pack

Buster: Your necklace, obviously

Rio: I haven’t taken it off

Rio: it’s so gorgeous 😍

Rio: never met a boy with taste

Buster: Good ‘cause I haven’t either

Buster: You’ve met me, didn’t you think I had taste before?

Rio: You weren’t buying me jewellery and I wouldn’t want to know if you were anyone else

Buster: ‘Course not, but since when is that solely the benchmark for good taste? You’ve seen what I’ve bought myself

Rio: You can have good taste for yourself and terrible taste in girl’s stuff

Rio: You’ve seen what your friends think is hot in the opposite sex

Buster: Other lads can and they do but don’t underestimate me, babe

Rio: No more

Buster: I just wanted to hear you say it

Rio: What else do you wanna hear me say?

Buster: Right now? Everything you probably shouldn't get into the habit of saying even if Nance is out of the way

Rio: [Audio examples of that]

Rio: Can’t call it a habit yet, we’re safe

Buster: You sure? Sounds like it could be becoming a habit to me

Rio: You aren’t going to keep an eye on me to make sure?

Buster: That’s already a habit, you know that, can’t keep my eyes off you

Rio: I don’t mind some codependence

Buster: That’s a relief ‘cause it’s arguably either too early or too late for you to try and change me

Rio: I don’t wanna change you

Buster: ‘Course not, why would you? We’re perfect for each other as is

Rio: and you’re perfect

Buster: You are, but yeah, I’m keeping up

Rio: You are

Rio: on both counts, thank you

Buster: You ain’t seen nothing yet, babe, but you will, when you get here

Rio: Call me? So it doesn’t seem so far off still 😖😩

Buster: [obviously will even though he did earlier because what is chill]

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lynelovespopculture · 4 years

Text

THE CHILLING ADVENTURES OF ZELDA CHAPTER 8-STORM’S BREWING PAY ME IN COMMENTS!!!!!!

CHAPTER 8-STORM’S BREWING

FAUSTUS IS HAUNTED BY 3 GHOSTS WHILE ZELDA WORRIED THAT HE’S FALLEN BACK ON OLD HABITS. THEN GREENDALE IS ROCKED BY A STORM. BY DAWN NOTHING WILL EVER BE THE SAME AGAIN!!!

“I’m so embarrassed.”

Faustus couldn’t help but smile. “Please stop. You have nothing, I repeat, nothing to feel embarrassed about. I mean, you’re not the 1st woman to go into false labor.”

Zelda sighed as she put on her robe. “I’m supposed to be the finest midwife our coven has ever seen but I can’t even tell the difference between real and false labor? Plus, I ruined your wonderful surprise.”

Not even 2 hours before, Zelda and Faustus were deep in the wood, surrounded by family, enjoying the romantic vow renewal Faustus had surprised her with. However, any romantic thoughts turned to panic when Zelda doubled over in pain and announced that she and Faustus’s unborn child was about to make an appearance. Quick as lightning, the family got Zelda home, undressed her, and got her into bed. Hilda checked her sister over and all seemed to be going well but 45 minutes later, Zelda’s contractions had stopped…completely. They waited 15 more minutes before officially declaring it false labor.

“Will you stop it?” Faustus asked after hearing about his wife’s embarrassment. “Yes, you are the finest midwife our coven has ever seen but you have never been pregnant before and you didn’t ruin anything. You have my ring on your finger and I have your name. I call that a win-win. I guess we were never meant to have a reception.”

Zelda laughed out loud and Faustus kissed her smile.

“But that doesn’t we can’t still have our cake,” Faustus continued, “I’m sure Hilda packed it up before she left.”

Zelda knew that she shouldn’t be excited over the mere idea of cake, but damn it, she was! “Cake? Is it?”

Faustus raised an eyebrow. “Chocolate? Why of course, my dearest! Your sister and I have both noticed you craving chocolate like crazy lately. So, why don’t you lay back and relax and I’ll be right back.” Faustus kissed Zelda again and headed down to the kitchen and got the cake, forks, plates, 2 glasses of milk, and some whipped cream. As Faustus gathered up all these items, he saw a shadow pass by him, and then he heard something behind him, close behind him.

Faustus whirled around. “Who’s there?” He looked around the darkened kitchen only to find himself completely alone. Then the sounds were coming from the side. “Sabrina? Ambrose?” Faustus left the kitchen and went into the greenhouse. He looked all around yet still found nothing and no one in the room. The noise started again but he sighed when he found the noise was just a tree branch tapping on a window.

He chuckled. “I swear, Faustus, you’re acting more and more like a mortal every day.” He shook his head, returned to the kitchen, put everything on a tray, and went upstairs to a waiting Zelda.

They were enjoying their cake in bed when Faustus said, “Dearest, this I want to discuss something with you.”

“Of course, darling.”

“Now that we had our 2nd wedding perhaps this is the time to talk about our 2nd honeymoon,” Faustus suggested with a smile.

Zelda swallowed a piece of cake before saying, “That’s sweet, Faustus, truly darling, but I’m in no condition to go anywhere at the moment.” She smiled, patting her bump happily.

“You’re right, of course. However, I didn’t mean now. I meant later, after our child’s birth, and we could bring the baby with us, just like last year when we brought…Judas…with us.” Faustus sighed; his voice was a little sad when he spoke of his son.

Zelda sought to distract him. “When you put it that way, a 2nd honeymoon sounds lovely. Where should we go? To the mountains or to the sea? Where a good place to go in springtime? London, of course, or oh, how about Paris? Or”

“Rome?” Faustus suggested shortly.

Zelda was tempted to lower her eyes but kept them firmly on her husband and her voice even. “Rome? Why Rome? We don’t have to do everything like last year.”

Faustus nodded. “I know but the witches’ council is in Rome. Thinking of it as a working 2nd honeymoon.”

Zelda was puzzled. “I don’t understand, Faustus. This is the 1st time you’ve spoken of having business with the council.”

He shook his head. “No, not me, you. It’s time, Zelda.”

His wife was completely lost. “Time? Time for what?”

“The order of Hecate has been doing well these many months and grows stronger each day with you as its leader. Yet, we both know that it won’t be taken seriously as a religion until it is approved by the council and we still need to ordain you as high priestess.”

Zelda got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that had nothing to do with the babe inside her. “The council, well the council is going to be tricky because they’re completely in the dark. They still think that we’re the church of night and that you’re still in charge.”

“How can that be?”

“Last year, just as we reopened the academy, they came visiting. Well, Hilda and I panicked! We had yet to tell the schoolchildren or the coven, let alone the council! So, we came up with a plan. I, of course, played my official role as Lady Blackwood, while Hilda used a glamour to fool them into believing she was you.”

“Hilda was posing as me?” Faustus’s eyebrow rose and a laugh escaped his lips. “I wish I’ve been there to see it.”

Zelda broke down and laughed too. “It was pretty funny, actually. Anyway, the council went away thinking everything was business as usual.”

“But it isn’t business as usual, Zelda.” Faustus pointed out. “The coven is not in the church of night and I’m no longer a high priest. Zelda, my dearest, you are ready. I keep thinking of how well you spoke at Hilda’s wedding and how well you handle that crowd. You deserved to be recognized for all your hard work.”

Zelda smiled at her husband. “It’s a lovely dream, Faustus, and I’m so happy you think so highly of me but you and both know it’s only that, a dream. You and I both know that the witches council had never recognized a high priestess in the history of time.”

Faustus considered this. “They say there is a 1st time for everything and I can think of no witch more worthy than you, Zelda Phiona Spellman.”

Zelda simply looked at him. “Why do you believe in me so much?”

“Easiest question I’ve been asked all day. It’s because I love you but I’ve seen a woman, no, scratch that, anyone so strong. Faith and powers destroyed? Find new ones. Mad husband cursed? Move hell and earth to find a cure. Beloved niece becomes queen of hell? Team up with Elizabeth I. Nothing ever stops you, Zelda, or even slows you down, for that matter.”

“But Faustus, still, the council? I don’t know.”

“Alright, forget the council for just a second. This is your last week at the school before you go on maternity leave, right?”

Zelda nodded. “Yes.”

“Well, I know you’re almost finished with that book of Hecate that Sabrina gave you at Yule. If the baby isn’t here by next week, I think you should the extra time to really study, research, write your manifesto.”

“You’re serious about all this, aren’t you?”

“Completely,” Faustus said honestly.

Zelda pushed the now empty plate off her lap and stood up. She walked around the room, considering her husband’s words. Suddenly, she smiled when Zelda got an idea. She turned to Faustus. “Alright, Faustus, I’ll do what you ask. I will study, I will write my manifesto, I ‘ll even go to Rome and speak with the council but in exchange, you will do something for me.”

“Dearest, I already pitched this as a 2nd honeymoon so of course, I’m coming with you.”

Zelda giggled. “No, Faustus darling, I was thinking about something else.”

“Really? What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to take back your magic.”

Faustus’s smile immediately disappeared. “Oh Zelda, no.”

Zelda went back and crawled on the bed to take her husband’s hand. “Faustus, you might think I’ve forgotten with all the chaos that went on around here lately. It’s been months since you asked the dark lord to take your powers away. If my memory serves me correctly, you wanted him to take your power because you didn’t want to hurt anyone. That was in early November and tomorrow is the 1st of March. In all that time, not only have you not harmed anyone, but you are the one who found the spell that saved Agatha. Faustus, you’re a born warlock, we both know that denying magic is denying your own nature.”

Faustus sighed. “How would I even go about getting my powers back? Shall I go begging back to the dark lord?”

Zelda shook her head. “No, of course not. Faustus, no one in our coven owes their powers to Lucifer anymore because everyone was rebaptized in the name of Hecate, or in the case of warlocks, the god Aeete, the husband of Hecate, who he himself is a 3 in 1, the lad, the father, and the old man. To regain your powers, you must be rebaptized too.”

“Well, can I think about it for a while?”

Zelda nodded. “Of course.”

Faustus smiled. “Good, because it is still our wedding night and all I want to do is focus on you.” Faustus turned his upper body to take something out of his nightstand. He turned back to Zelda, smiling and holding a long jewelry case. “Surprise!”

His wife gave him a tender look. “Faustus, thank you, but you need to stop this. You’re spoiling me!”

He gave a mock pout. “But it’s what I live for!” He opened the box and Zelda gasped. “Now I know it’s not much.”

“Not much?! There are Magda’s pearls!”

“What? How did you know- Oh, that’s right, the memory spell. Well then, I don’t have to tell you how special this gift is then. I could never bring myself to give them to Constance, seeing how we barely had a marriage. I would have given these to you last year after our 1st wedding but Blackwood wanted that stupid music box. I thought about giving these pearls to Prudence but I didn’t want her to think it was a bribe.”

“We’ll share it,” Zelda suggested, “and not just Prudence and I, but Letitia too and the new baby too, if she’s a girl.”

“So that all my girls can use the pearls. What a perfect idea!”

Zelda sighed. “This has been such a beautiful night, Faustus, but I’m afraid I have a craving even bigger than pearls and chocolate.”

“What can I get you, dearest?”

“I think it would be better if you guess my craving?”

Faustus wore a huge smile as Zelda gently pushed him down, unbuttoned his shirt before putting some whipped cream on his chest, and then licked it off. Instead of kissing him, Zelda smiled wickedly down at Faustus. “Can you guess what I want yet?”

“Oh, I have an idea.” He cupped her face. “But if I’m wrong, please don’t tell me.” Faustus moaned as he kissed Zelda deeply. They fell asleep in each other’s arms after their lovemaking.

After a couple of hours later, Faustus awoke from a nightmare. These nightmares had continued for months but at least, Faustus has learned not to wake Zelda up anymore. He studied her now, in the moonlight, naked, sleeping peacefully and wearing his wedding ring. As usual, she was glorious. He stroked her cheek and kissed her brow before he got up. Faustus went to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face before he filled a glass and took a sip.

“Shame on you, Faustus!”

The sudden voice in the quiet night startled Faustus so much that he jumped, as he did, the glass slipped out of his hand and smashed on the floor.

“Damn!”

He picked up the glass and looked up to see the ghost of his 1st wife and she did not look happy.

“Constance?! What are you doing here?”

“Watching you making a fool out of yourself over that tramp, Zelda Spellman!”

Faustus immediately got defensive. “Zelda is not a tramp! She’s my wife! We’re finally married, as it always should have been!”

“She’s a tramp!” Constance insisted “and you’re even worse. Falling all over her like a lovesick schoolboy. Wasting time on stupid things like that ridiculous vow renewal, befriending mortals, helping those weird sluts when you should be looking for our children!”

“I am trying everything I can think of to find the twins! What you’ll ask is impossible, especially when I don’t have magic. I mean, I can’t fix everything all at once.”

“Why not? You ruined everything all at once.” This comment was not made by Constance but Faustus did know the voice it did belong to. It made Faustus rolled his eyes and turned to see her seated on the bathroom counter.

“Shirley Jackson. Forgotten but not gone. To what do I owe this displeasure? No, never mind, I really don’t care. You 2 hens can cluck all night long. I’m going to bed.”

Faustus turned to left the bathroom but a 3rd ghost blocked the door. Faustus had to admit that the first 2 spirits had come as a surprise, a shock even but not the 3rd one. Looking at him now, Faustus wondered what had taken him so long. “Hello, Edward.”

“Hello, Faustus. How are you?

That was it. That simple question was all it took for the blood of Edward’s former mentor to boil. “Better,” Faustus spat at Edward, “Much better, now that the, excuse me, your insanity curse, is no longer on me!” Faustus roughly pushed Edward out of his way and returned to his bedroom. He looked down at Zelda, she was still sleeping but something had changed. Not only had Zelda turned around, but she must also have wakened when the glass broke because she had put her nightgown back on. Faustus was still studying Zelda when Edward came up beside him.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Zelda? Your sister, my wife? Yes, she’s very beautiful.”

Edward looked at Faustus. “You don’t get it, do you? It’s obvious to everyone but you.”

“What is?”

“That Zelda doesn’t really love you.”

Faustus felt his hands ball up into fists. “Once again, it’s the world according to you, isn’t it, Edward? Of course, Zelda doesn’t love me, she just tells me she does all the time and seemed delighted at our vow renewal ceremony tonight but, of course, you know best, Edward.”

The other warlock shrugged. “All I’m saying is to look at the evidence. When I saw my sister in the neither realm last spring, she seemed completely in love with her new girlfriend, Tango Tanya.”

“It’s Mambo Marie.” Faustus corrected.

“Right. Well, I think it’s time for you to do the honorable, gentlemanly thing to do and step aside so that Zelda can be with who she loves.”

Frowning, Faustus shook his head. “You speak as if I tore them apart. I didn’t, if anything I tried to get them back together. I spoke with Mambo Marie and convinced her to set up a romantic lunch but a while later, Zelda told me she loved me and we have been together ever since.”

“But she had to come to you.”

“How do you figure that, Edward?”

“This is Zelda, we’re talking about and Zelda would do anything for her family, even give up her own happiness so that her baby can have its father. You didn’t capture my sister’s heart you just got her pregnant!”

Faustus was on fire with rage. “Now you haven’t just insulted me but Zelda as well! Plenty of strong women are single mothers or do co-parenting and Zelda is the strongest woman of all!”

Edward looked unsure. “Still, if you loved Zelda as much as you do, you would want her to be happy.”

“Why is it so impossible to think that Zelda’s happiness might be with me?” Faustus wanted to know.

“If it wasn’t for you, who knows? This wedding night could have belonged to Zelda and Mambo Marie.”

“Oh, shut up, Edward!”

Zelda stirred and moaned a little in her sleep. Faustus looked down at her and when he looked back up, Edward was gone. He looked toward the bathroom for Constance and Shirley, but they were gone too. Sighing, Faustus got back in bed, turning to look at his wife.

“I don’t care what anyone says. You are my true love and my happy place.”

Yes, but am I hers? Faustus quickly dismissed the bothersome thought and cursed Edward for putting it there.

“You see, Zelds? Nothing really needs to change.”

It was a beautiful March afternoon and Hilda took Zelda out to lunch to celebrate the official start of Zelda’s maternity leave. Meanwhile, it had been a week since the labor false alarm and so far, there was no sign of the baby. During the lunch, the sisters talked a lot about turning their old room into the nursery. Right now, they were walking toward a paint store to look at some samples.

Zelda wore a teasing smile. “I’m still getting over the fact that you completely moved out of the house.”

Hilda sighed. “Not this again, Zelda! I had to move out, I’m married now.”

“Oh Hildie, don’t blame marriage, I’m married and I still live at home.”

“Well, maybe that’s why I moved, there’s no more bloody room!” Hilda stated and then stormed into the shop.

“Hilda, come on, don’t be like that. I was just kidding!” Zelda was about to step into the shop herself but then she noticed Faustus was the other street. Before she could call out or wave him over, Zelda realized that her husband wasn’t alone. He was in the company of a slim, strikingly beautiful blonde.

“Zelda?” Hilda called out. “What’s keeping you?”

“I’m coming,” Zelda disappeared into the store before Faustus could see her.

Although Faustus had yet to decide about his baptism, Zelda decided to go ahead and start studying so she could write her manifesto. When they were told about it, the family was all for it. Since he was working most days at the academy’s library, Ambrose offered up his attic so that his aunt would have a quiet place to work during the day. It was in the attic that Faustus found her 1 afternoon in mid-March. He came bearing a tray that had tea and sugar cookies.

“Hi, I thought you could use a break.”

Zelda put down her pen. “I suppose I could.” Faustus gave her a cup. “Thank you.”

“So, how’s it going?” He asked her.

“Well, I now know why the church of night bans most of these readings. According to Hecate, love is not a sin, it’s not even wrong. Love is a right and natural emotion as well as everything that goes with it, like lovemaking, is perfectly normal.”

“So, all these years of loving you, all the shame and guilt I was made to feel, was all for nothing?”

“Afraid so, Faustus.”

Faustus leaned down and kissed Zelda. “Oh well. Good to know.”

With 1 more sip, Zelda finished her tea so she placed the cup and saucer back on the tray. After taking a bite of a sugar cookie, Zelda picked up her pen and went back to her notes. While she did that, Faustus placed the cookie dish beside her and picked up the tray.

Just leave now! Faustus’s head screamed but he found himself turning back and his mouth formed the question that had been bugging him for weeks. “Zelda? Are you happy with your life with me?”

His wife looked up and gave him a genuine smile that told him even more then her words did. “Of course, I’m happy, darling, I love you.”

Faustus smiled. “I love you too, Zelda dearest.” He got to the door before Zelda called out.

“Faustus, are you happy with me?” She asked.

He answered her honestly. “I’ve never been happier. Aside from Blackwood and the twins, life is pretty much perfect.”

When Faustus got downstairs, he was not at all pleased to see all 3 ghosts waiting for him in the kitchen. For the last 2 and a half weeks, Edward, Constance and Shirley were popping up and disappearing everywhere while Faustus was just trying to live his daily life. He was getting sick and tired of seeing them. Faustus threw the tray down on the island and it made a loud sound.

“If you 3 stooges have something important to say for once, spit it out, will you? Hilda will be here soon to give me my cooking lesson.”

Constance scoffed. “Do you even hear yourself anymore, Faustus? No magic? Cooking lessons? Your father would be ashamed of you!”

“Good!” Faustus spat. “The more distance I can put between me and that old bastard the better! Why are you staring at me for, Edward?” Faustus demanded.

“What are you still doing here?” Asked Edward.

“Easy, I live here,” Faustus said shortly.

“But I told you, Zelda is in love with Mambo Marie.”

“Yes, you did, but you see Edward, I don’t believe you. What you seem to keep forgetting is that I myself, have been in love with Zelda since I was 16 and in all those years, I have learned to read her. Heaven, I probably know Zelda’s face better than she does. In all these months, never once did I sense that Zelda wasn’t happy or wanted to be with someone else. She hasn’t talked to or probably had contact with Mambo Marie in months.”

“Look down.”

Faustus was looking down in a pot of boiling water. In the water, Faustus saw a vision of Zelda’s desk and on the desk was a piece of paper containing Mambo Marie’s change of address and new phone number.

“Still think Zelda and her girlfriend aren’t together?” Edward smirked.

“How do I know you didn’t put that there?”

“You don’t belong here!” Edward replied.

“Edward’s right,” agreed Constance. “You should leave here, never come back and go find the twins.”

“So, you want me to abandon 2 of my children to find my 2 other children. Oh yeah, that makes sense. Besides, you’re a ghost, you can go places I can’t possibly go to. So, why don’t you go find our children, Constance and report back to tell me where they are?”

“Like you even care,” Shirley butted in. “You’re so obsessed with Zelda; you don’t care about anything else.”

“But obsession is not love,” Added Edward. “That’s why he doesn’t even care about Zelda’s happiness.”

“You’re wrong! You’re all wrong!” Faustus barked. “I love my children, all 4 of my children! I also love Zelda. I love Zelda so much that if I thought I was a threat to her happiness in any way”

“You would leave her?” Edward asked, much too quickly.

Faustus nodded. “Yes, I would leave her.”

“Wonderful.”

“But I will only go when Zelda tells me that she wants to be with someone else and not a second before!”

“Was it all worth it?” Asked Shirley.

Faustus sighed. “Was what all worth it, Sister Jackson?”

“Oh, come on, Faustus, don’t tell me you never thought about it. This insanity curse, the source of all your pain, all your troubles, never would have happened if you hadn’t pursued her if you hadn’t married Zelda. If you had married someone else, like for example, me.”

Faustus couldn’t help but laugh. “Marry you?! I don’t even like you!”

“But you slept with me!”

“So what? I was a slut back then, I slept with everyone! 2 nights of sex does not make you my true love!”

“It was 3 times!” Shirley shouted. “We had sex 3 times!”

“I know!” Faustus shouted back. “But the 1st time wasn’t worth mentioning! It’s a moot point anyway because Zelda didn’t cause the curse. He did!” Faustus pointed at Edward. “You haven’t changed at all have you, Edward Spellman? You still expect others to clean up the messes that you made!”

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? I was in love with your sister and you denied me her every chance you got. Then you met Diana, your feelings were so much more important than mine or even Zelda’s. So, you married Diana, you got the woman you loved but I got the punishment. Constance, you want to take to task for not knowing where our twins are? Well, I believe if it wasn’t for Edward here, I see no reason why our children wouldn’t be happy plump 1-year-olds toddling all over this house. The same thing with Sabrina, you had to have a child so you made a deal with Lucifer, but you failed to tell your sisters, the 2 women who raised Sabrina.”

“You’re avoiding my question,” Shirley stated. “If you had known about the curse, would you have still married Zelda?”

“If the outcome would be the same, then yes.”

“Really,” sneered Constance “so you enjoy that our children are with a madman.”

“Did I say that? Don’t put words in my mouth! I hate that!”

“Faustus? Who are you talking to?”

He turned to a puzzled Hilda then turned back to see that the ghosts were gone. He sighed. “Nobody.”

Early the next week, Hilda stood in the middle of the new nursey, viewing different baby furniture with the snap of a finger when she heard the front door slam and stomping on the stairs.

“What’s wrong, Zelds?” Hilda asked as her sister went by.

“What are you doing here, Hilda?”

“Waiting for you. Today’s your last weekly appointment before the baby comes.”

Zelda sighed. “Okay then, let’s get this over with then” Zelda took off her coat and lead her sister to her bedroom.

“Well?” Zelda asked 20 minutes later.

“Fine. Fine. Baby’s nice and healthy.” Hilda was smiling however; her sister was not.

“Has it dropped? Has the baby lowered?”

“Well, no, not yet.” Zelda groaned, but Hilda continued, “It’s all normal, Zelds! You know that 1st babies are almost always late.”

“This 1 will definitely be late, seeing how I’m due tomorrow!”

“Okay, Zelda, what’s wrong? You’re so grumpy today.”

“Oh, I’m on top of the world, Hilda. I’m about 1000 years pregnant, this baby seems to be going nowhere fast and I’m pretty sure that my husband is in bed with another woman right now!”

Hilda was expecting the first 2 complains but the 3rd one threw her off. “What?!”

“I was at the bookstore because I was excited to show Faustus the 1st rough draft of my manifesto.”

“But Faustus doesn’t work on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons.”

Zelda nodded. “A fun fact is known to everyone but me, apparently. Plus, remember 2 weeks ago when went out to lunch and then to the paint shop?”

“Yes.”

“That was the day I saw Faustus on the street with a strange woman.”

Hilda then got an idea. “The redhead? I saw him talking with her a few times. She’s no threat.”

Zelda looked at her sister. “The woman I saw was a blond! Well, there we have it, 2 afternoons Faustus isn’t accounted for, 2 strange women and a man who doesn’t believe in monogamy. Doesn’t take a scientist to figure this out.”

“What did he say when you confronted him?” Hilda wanted to know.

“Nothing, because I didn’t and I’m not going to. That was Constance’s mistake and he grew to hate her.”

“But if he’s making love to other women.”

“It’s not making love, it’s just sex,” Zelda insisted. “I’m his true love and we’re very happy together. That’s all that matters.”

“How can you be happy if this is bothering you?”

“Who says that this is bothering me? This is not bothering me.” Zelda said in a tone that left no doubt in Hilda’s mind that her sister was very bothered.

The following night, Faustus was toweling off his hair after a shower when he walked into his bedroom and saw all 3 ghosts waiting for him.

“Oh, Hecate, not again! Why don’t you 3 get an afterlife so I can get on with mine? I’m getting mighty sick of this!”

“Then how about this?” Asked Edward “We’ll leave when you leave.”

“As I said on your last visit, I’m not leaving!”

“So, you rather stay on in this fake marriage. Clinging to a woman who allowed you back into her life because of pity for her unborn child than actual love.”

“This is not a fake marriage!” Faustus snapped. “I love Zelda enough for both of us!”

“You should! You put her ahead of your own children.”

Faustus rolled his eyes and turned to face the ghost of his 1st wife. “How many times must I say this Constance? I’m doing everything I possibly can to find our twins.”

“Why don’t you just face it, Faustus?” Edward sneered. “No one wants you here.”

“I can’t believe I going to say this, Edward, but thank you.”

“Thank me? For what?”

Faustus shrugged. “The curse. You see, all my life, I have lived in fear of 1 thing, becoming my father. Yet as hard as I tried, I have found myself slipping into his old habits. I will never forget the innocent people I hurt or the guilt I live with every single day but recently I thought that maybe, just maybe that curse forced me to become the monster I always feared. In other words, your curse forced me to hit rock bottom a lot faster than had I been left to my own devices. In a very odd, very messed up way, you helped me because after hitting rock bottom, there’s nowhere to go but up. Now, I’m becoming the man I want to be. A man that a proud noble family, like the Spellmans, are willing to claim as their own. A man, that for whatever reason, Zelda wants by her side. How can I not thank you for that?”

“I think you should take that thank you, Edward. It probably the nicest thing someone will say to you all night.”

All 4 turned toward the doorway and saw an annoyed Zelda, who had her arms crossed. “What are you even doing here Edward? The last time we talked, I honestly told I didn’t know if I ever wanted to see you again and now, I find you in my bedroom trying to convince my husband to leave me on my due date? Are you serious?”

“I’m only thinking about your happiness, sister,” Edward defended himself. “But Faustus here can’t seem to get it through his thick head that you’re really in love with Mambo Marie.”

Zelda cocked her eyebrow. “Me? In love with Mambo Marie? Well, let’s see. In the past year that I met Mambo Marie, we’ve shared a few kisses, never went to bed together, fought a lot, broke up twice, once after she gave me an abortion potion, threatened to leave if I left during a lunch date and then did and hadn’t seen her in months. On the other hand, in the last year alone, I married Faustus twice, made a child together, worked hard to undo your curse, prevented his suicide, and told him I loved him. We’ve only grown stronger and closer together ever since. Heavens Edward, I even told you I loved him after swallowing a piece of truth cake!”

“You did?!” Faustus asked. “Edward didn’t mention that at all.”

Zelda frowned. “You don’t say.”

“What about the change of address for Mambo Marie that is still on your desk at the academy?” Asked Edward.

“I was supposed to give to Prudence, seeing how close they became. The fact that I completely forgot about it for a month and a half should tell you how much Mambo Marie crosses my mind.” Zelda replied.

Constance stepped up next up to Edward. “See? I told you she wasn’t the problem, he is!” She looked at Zelda. “Did you think you were special? Did you really believe he loved you? Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it, Zelda Spellman? You didn’t give me a 2nd thought as you bedded my husband when I was pregnant and now the same thing is happening to you.”

“Shut up, Constance!” Zelda ordered.

Faustus looked confused. “What is she talking about?”

Zelda only smiled. “Nothing, nothing at all.”

Yet Constance continued. “She knows, Faustus. She knows all about how you don’t work on Tuesday or Thursday afternoons. She even caught you on the street with your mistress!”

“Constance! I said to shut up!” Zelda growled.

“Mistress? You think I’m cheating on Zelda?!” Faustus asked, dazed.

“Well of course!” Edward spat. “Everyone, even my sister, knows that you can never be faithful to just 1 woman. It’s just not in your nature and even you can’t blame the curse for everything.”

Faustus said nothing, just stalked out of the room.

“No!” Zelda called out and rushed to the doorway, hot tears in her eyes. “Faustus, please! Please come back!”

Edward grabbed his sister by the arm. “Let him go. It’s no big loss.”

Zelda quickly shook free of her brother. “What did I ever do to you, my own brother, to make you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you.” Edward sounded hurt. “I did this to help you. Zelda, your marriage is”

“None of your business!” Snapped his sister. Then she advanced to Constance, “nor is it yours,” she said before going to Shirley, “and it’s definitely not yours! What are you even doing here, Shirley? You butted in so much in life that you have to continue to do so in death?”

“Why are you angry with us?” Edward asked. “Now you can be with Mambo Marie.”

“I don’t want to be with Mambo Marie! I want my husband! I love Faustus. I love him with all my heart and now it may too late.” Zelda sat down, hung her head, and started to sob.

“Don’t cry, dearest.” Faustus was back in the room.

“What are you doing back here?” Edward demanded. “We thought you left, for good!”

Faustus couldn’t help but laugh. “What?! It will take a long more than 3 clueless ghosts to make me leave my wife and unborn child.”

“Then where did you just go?”

“You want to play judge, jury and executor, Edward? That’s fine by me but what would the use of defending myself if you think I’ll only lie so I ran downstairs to the kitchen to grab this!”

Edward raised an eyebrow. “A bag of cookies?”

“Not just any cookies, truth cookies! I know it’s supposed to be a truth cake but that’s too complex for me to make but I made sure Hilda showed me the same recipe.”

“Don’t eat it, Faustus,” Zelda advised. “You don’t owe them anything.”

“No, I don’t, but I owe you everything. Plus, I have nothing to hide.” Faustus made a show of eating not 1 truth cookie, but 2. “Now, where were we?”

“We were talking about you cheating on my sister.” Muttered Edward.

“Oh yes. Well, the truth is that I’ve never cheated on Zelda. Not even last year after starting our affair and when my-then wife was in a very rare mood. I turned down Constance, not Zelda. Nor did I cheat on the night after Zelda and I announced our engagement and this one” he pointed to Shirley, “sneaked unwanted and uninvited into my bed-chamber, bare-ass naked. Not even when we were young and we would enjoy threesome and foursome together.”

“Then where are you every Tuesday and Thursday?” Asked Edward.

Faustus lowered his eyes. “I rather not say.”

“Because you were in bed with a hot blonde?” Constance smiled and Zelda had the sudden urge to rip her apart.

“Not in bed, in therapy!” Faustus declared and it felt like all the air was sucked out of the room.

“Therapy? But you don’t believe in it, you said it was only for the weak.” Constance made the statement but both his wives knew this to be true.

“More of my father’s bull. I had to get over it and ask for help to tame my inner demons. Like you said Edward, I can’t blame it all on the curse.”

“But 2 therapists?” Questioned Shirley. “Who’s that screwed up?”

“That is enough!” Zelda frowned.

“I only saw the redhead twice,” Faustus explained. “She was mortal and I didn’t see the point if I had to censor myself.”

“I said enough!” The pregnant witch shouted and got off the bed to face the 3 ghosts. “Faustus may not have the power to banish you but I do!” Zelda spoke quickly in Latin and then all 3 ghosts were lined up at the room’s threshold with 3 lit candles at their feet. Zelda came forward, a bottle in her hand. “For those of you in need of a quick recap, this is black salt. In my mind’s eye, I already poured it before the front door. Now, all I need to do is pour the salt before you and blow out the candles, and never again will any of you be able to enter this house until expressly invited. Constance, I promise you that we will find your children and I raise them as if they were my very own.” Zelda then poured the salt and blew out the candles. When the ghosts were gone, Zelda turned back to her husband. “Therapy, really?”

Faustus chuckled. “Is that so hard to believe rather than me cheating on you?”

“Forgive me, darling, but yes. You told me that you don’t believe in monogamy.”

“I was playing it cool. I wasn’t going to say that I used to dream about you all the time when we were apart and that I’d never been with a woman without thinking about you in some way, shape, or form. It would of freak you out.”

“I don’t know about that.” As they kissed and hugged, a grandfather clock chimed 12. Zelda sighed. “Midnight, my due date came and went. This baby is officially late.”

“Gooooooood morning Greendale! It’s 7:05 on this beautiful April Fools morning. This freak heatwave we’re having continues, making this a great day to spend at the beach. Can you believe this, Mike? April 1st and we’re already talking beach weather.”

Mike didn’t get a chance to answer because Zelda slammed off the clock radio before she turned around in bed. “Why did you set the alarm for 7? It’s Saturday.” Zelda asked Faustus sleepily.

“I’m sorry, dearest. I need to be in town by 8:30. Dr. C and I are doing inventory at the bookstore today.”

The couple got up, dressed, and went downstairs for breakfast. Yet in the kitchen, there was only Sabrina, for Ambrose had already left for the academy. When it came up that Sabrina planned to spend most of the day with her friends, leaving Zelda alone in the house which made Faustus question his decision to go out at all.

“Don’t be silly, darling. I probably just be where I always am lately, up in the attic, working on my manifesto. I mean, you’ve been watching me like a hawk for the past 10 days and nothing. I’m not going to go into labor the moment you leave. This is real life, Faustus, not a television show.”

The forecast was right. Although it was only April, it felt more like August. So, Sabrina and her friends spent the beach. At a little after 3, it began to rain, by 4, it was pouring, winds were going wild, complete with thunder and lighting. The plan was just to drop Theo off first but by the time they got to the farm, the storm was so wild, it wasn’t safe to drive so Sabrina, Roz and Harvey agreed to stay with Theo and his dad. Meanwhile, the all-day inventory at the bookstore was going well. Faustus got distracted when he saw that the storm had started. His first worry was, of course, for Zelda. But Dr. C still needed him at the store so Hilda agreed to teleport to the house to check on her sister. Zelda was fine but she had been working all day so Hilda persuaded Zelda to take a break. It was after 6 when the sisters sat down to a little snack of coffee and cake. They were just finishing up when they heard a thunderclap and then all the lights in the house went out all at once.

Hilda looked up. “Oh, okay. Looks like we have a blackout.” Both sisters got up from the table and Hilda went to a drawer that held flashlights. She got 1 out for herself and then handed 1 to Zelda. “How about I get the candles from upstairs and you get the ones downstairs?”

Zelda nodded and as Hilda headed upstairs, Zelda went to the closet where she knew a box of candles were waiting. Then she made her way down to the morgue and went to Ambrose’s little cubby hole of an office but frowned when she couldn’t find any candles, Ambrose must have moved them. Zelda turned and scanned the room with her flashlight and found the candles on a high shelf. Zelda went to the shelf, stood on her tiptoes, and stretched out her arm to reach the candles. Zelda gasped in shock when she felt and heard the splash.

“Zelds?” Hilda called out. “Zelds, are you down here?” Hilda saw her sister and stepped in water. “Oh no. Don’t tell me we have another flooding problem!”

“No, it’s not a flooding problem, Hilda. My water just broke!”

“What?”

Zelda nodded. “Yes. OW!”

That all it took for Hilda to go into full mid-wife mode. She took Zelda’s hand in hers and put her arm around Zelda’s waist. “Let get you upstairs.”

Once the sisters got to the main floor, the phone rang. At her sister’s urging, Hilda answered the call, while Zelda started up the stairs. She rolled her eyes as Hilda told the caller, Dr. C, that Zelda was labor.

“Sister!” Zelda whispered furiously. “You be sure to tell your husband that he cannot tell Faustus that I’m in labor!”

Hilda covered the phone with her hand. “What? Why?”

“Are you kidding?! He didn’t even want to leave this morning because of the very thought of me in labor. If he learns that I’m actually having the baby, he’ll want to come home now despite how dangerous the storm is getting.”

“Right,” Hilda and Dr. C talked a little more and she learned that blackout was happening all over town. Hilda hung up and ran upstairs and into Zelda’s room. She was amazed to see that the room was ready and prepped. There was water, fresh towels, and the medical items lined up perfectly. Zelda had changed into her nightgown and was only now getting into bed. Smiling, Hilda went to help her sister. She was glad she wasn’t the only mid-wife at this delivery.

Sabrina and her friends spent all night at the farm. After supper and setting up the candles, Theo’s dad went to bed and the kids were hovering around Theo’s laptop, watching horror movies.

“Well, all the girls are finally asleep.”

It was midnight at the Academy of Unseen Arts. Prudence, lantern in hand, entered the head office and flopped down on the sofa, next to Ambrose.

“The boys are, as well.” They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments yet Ambrose sensed something was off. “Are you okay, Prudence? You seem a little…tense.”

“I’m fine.”

But it was when he watched Prudence during the next thunderclap that Ambrose got a fun idea. “Prudence Night, if I didn’t know better, I would say you’re afraid of thunder and lightning.”

“Nonsense!” Then the next round of lighting sent a jumpy Prudence right into Ambrose’s arms. After staring at each other for a second, they began making out. Soon, they were upstairs, making love in 1 of the academy’s private bedrooms. As Prudence screamed in pleasure, Sabrina screamed in fear because of the movie and Zelda screamed in pain as the baby made it’s through her body.

At 1, Faustus looked out onto the town street. He watched as the lightning struck the power lines and a live wire hit the wet road.

“I can’t believe we got this whole store in order in a day! We definitely earned these.” Dr. C handed Faustus 1 of the 2 beers he was holding and the 2 men clinked the glasses in a toast.

“Do you think Zelda’s okay?” asked a worried Faustus.

“Zelda’s fine. She with Hilda, remember?”

“Dr. C, I know I just sound like an overprotective husband that been bugging you all night but the truth is I’m terrified. I want this baby as much as Zelda does, truly I do. But in the back of my mind, I can’t forget that both women, before Zelda, who bore my children, have both died within 24 hours of giving birth.”

“I -I didn’t know that.”

“Why did you just turn so pale?”

Dr. C sighed. “I’m not supposed to tell you this but Zelda is actually in labor right now.”

“What?! How do you know?”

“Hilda told me when I called her when the blackout started.”

“But that was hours ago! I got to go.”

“Faustus, wait!”

Zelda had had enough! She had been in labor since 6 and had been pushing since midnight. 2 hours later, still nothing.

“Okay Zelds, 1 more push!”

Zelda shook her head. “No, Hildie, I can’t, I’m exhausted.”

“But sister, you’re there.” Hilda took Zelda’s hand and guided it low. “Feel that? It’s the head, it’s crowning. 1 more push, Zelda, and we’re done, I promise. Just give me all you have.”

Zelda screamed as she so, and as she collapsed onto her pillow, she heard her baby cry.

“It’s a girl!” Hilda announced with a smile. “Baby girl Spellman, born at 2:08 AM on April 2nd,” A tree branch slammed against the window, making Hilda forget to say the year. “She already has a full head of red hair, just like you.” Hilda passed the baby to Zelda.

“She’s perfect,” Declared her mother, “Hilda? Is it me or is she wheezy a bit?”

“Oh, I think I forgot to suction out her nose and I left the pump in the kitchen. No problem, come with your Auntie Hilda, my darling.”

Down to the kitchen, they went, and just as Hilda finished checking and cleaning the baby, she heard the front door open and closed. Hilda stepped out into the hall and smiled. “Hello, Faustus, I’m glad you’re home safely. Zelda’s upstairs and I’ll be right up.”

Back in the kitchen, Hilda called Dr. C. “I’m not mad that you told Faustus about Zelda, love. I just called to tell you that somehow he got home safe.”

“Um, Hilda, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Yes, I told Faustus about Zelda but I managed to calm him down and convince him to stay here. In fact, I’m looking at him right now.”

“Then who? Oh, Hecate!” Hilda slammed down the phone and ran for the stairs but before she got there, she heard Zelda scream. Hilda forced herself to run back to the kitchen and to the table where the baby lay in her Moses basket. Hilda touched the tiny hand.

“Precious babe, please be as silent as the grave.” Hilda put the basket on a chair and gently pushed it in so that the basket could not be seen. A moment later, Hilda saw Blackwood on the other side of the kitchen, dripping in Zelda’s blood. “You’re not welcome here!”

“Like I care!” Blackwood hissed. “But I must say, I am disappointed. I created this storm so that all you Spellmans would be here, but only you and Zelda are home. Speaking of Zelda, I had no idea she gave birth tonight until I got into her room. Where is the baby?”

“Stillborn.” Hilda lied.

“So, killing Zelda was a kindness, to reunite her with the child. Looks like there’s only 1 more Spellman for me to kill tonight.” He raised his arm and in a spilt second, every knife in the room was pointed at Hilda.

She, however, only smiled. “You forget, dearie, that this was my kitchen for many, many years. Every sharp object is spelled not to hurt me. In fact, they’re antispelled to hurt the attacker.” Just like that, the knives turned on Blackwood.

“You cannot kill me,” he reminded her.

“Kill? No, but let’s see if you can bleed.” Hilda only raised a finger and then a knife slid into Blackwood’s cheek. He reacted in pain and indeed he bled.

“A mere scratch,” Hilda dismissed. “But if you don’t leave this house right now, I’ll cut you to ribbons and cause you so much pain you’ll wish you were dead.”

Hilda and her knives escorted Blackwood to the front door. She was still watching him when he stepped onto the road and got hit by lightning. Hilda smiled. “Well, that will leave a bruise.”

#chilling adventures of sabrina #caoz #chapter 8 #fanfic #spellwood #zelda spellman #faustus blackwood #hilda spellman #sabrina spellman #ambrose spellman #prudence night #edward spellman #constance blackwood #shirley jackson #Dr. c #part 4 my way!

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anoutlandishfanfic · 5 years

Text

Metamorphosis AU: Ch. 24, Pt. 1, Convalescence.

The AO3 link to this chapter was posted earlier, but I haven’t posted the text in full here yet. This is not a new chapter, simply adding it to Tumblr.

You can find previous chapters here or over here at AO3.

_______________________________________

Three Days Later; End of December, 1743.

“What’s your pain level, luv?” I murmured, brushing the curls off Jamie’s brow.

He’d been fever free for a solid forty eight hours now, but I still felt like singing the Hallelujah Chorus every time I found him as such.

“I’m fine, Sassenach,” he assured me with a weary smile, “Dinna fash”

As ironic as it might seem — what, with me being six and a half months pregnant with twins and him recovering from major surgery and an assault that brought him to the brink of death — sleep was at a premium these days.

Jamie was able to doze most of the day away, his body unable to keep slumber at bay entirely, but he fought hard against the tow of a truly deep sleep and the demons that accompanied it. I was haunted by nightmares of my own, each more terrifying than the last, but my body’s aches and pains trumped anything my hormone-riddled subconscious could concoct. Intense muscle spasms accompanied by nagging hip pain combined with persistent nausea and frequent trips to relieve myself made it nearly impossible for me to achieve a full night’s sleep… and so I often joined my husband in drifting off in the middle of the day.

I shook my head at his insistence, suppressing a grin at what I knew without a doubt was a complete bluff and patted his cheek patronizingly, “I won’t, but give me the number anyway.”

“Four.”

I rose a brow at this and his smile grew as he added, “And a half.”

I chuckled, leaning in for a kiss and he gladly obliged.

“Mmm,” he intoned, bringing me back in for another one. “A few more of these an’ you’ll have me down to a two, Sassenach.”

”I’m aiming for one,” I quipped cheekily as I sat back and took a good look at my patient.

The color was slowly beginning to creep back into his cheeks and the light back into his eyes. Jamie had endured the unthinkable — I knew he had — but remained silent about most of what had happened at Wentworth. It weighed upon him tremendously, stooping his shoulders and furrowing his brow…

While his body was healing rapidly, his mind and spirit limped far behind.

Jamie’s good hand brushed against my leg and I instinctively pulled it into my lap, curving it around the ever growing swell of our children. He jumped slightly in surprise — I mentally kicked myself, for I knew he startled easily these days — but he quickly recovered and responded in delight.

“They’re growing,” he murmured, his gaze softening.

You’re growing is what he means, I internally groaned. You’re bigger than a horse, Mother Goose.

Jamie was silent for a moment before he sat up more fully, lifting his injured hand to touch my face. His thumb stroked my cheek and I turned my face to gently kiss his palm as my eyes drifted shut, trying to mask my insecurities. He lowered his hand slightly, cupping my chin and waiting for me to look at him before speaking.

“Have I thanked you yet, mo chridhe?”

My brows furrowed in confusion as I asked, “For what?”

“For my children… for the lives you carry a’ the risk of your own.”

My face melted as tears rushed to my eyes. I kissed him, my lips trembling at his tender words as my arms slipped around his neck.

“Oh,” I uttered insufficiently, completely overcome.

I buried my face in his neck, breathing in the scent of him, filling my lungs with the anchoring truth of his presence. His arms came around me too, holding me close as my hot tears hit his skin and we both realized just how much we missed the others touch.

We clung to each other for many moments in reverent silence before I added, “It’s my pleasure.”

A low noise — not quite a chuckle and not quite in negation of my words — rumbled within him, making his chest vibrate deliciously against me.

“Aye, but I ken tis no’ always so… when you were so sick a’ the first, or when they make you change so… when your time comes?”

I shook my head against him, whispering, “Even then.” ... A few days after that.

While he hadn’t ventured far from the bed yet, Jamie was now officially up and about. He puttered around after me as I worked at my table and often followed me to my chamber and back, but today we were going on our first walk around the abbey.

His left arm was looped comfortably through mine, not so much for assistance but rather assurance, as we slowly wandered the halls. Murtagh trailed several paces behind us to ensure we didn’t get lost — the maze of passageways was far more complex than I’d realized — and I thanked my lucky stars that he had, for we rounded a corner and came face to face with none other than Dougal McKenzie.

“Good to see ye on yer feet, lad,” he sneered, his words entirely insincere.

A chill ran down my spine at the sound of his voice and I flinched involuntarily as he took a step closer. Murtagh was at our side in an instant and edged his way between us and our foe.

Jamie’s arm slid out from under mine and wrapped protectively around my waist.

I’ve got you, he promised with a squeeze. He’ll have to get through me to get to you.

“Tis good to see you too, uncle,” Jamie lied through clenched teeth, “but I’m afraid we must be returning to our rooms. I hope to speak wi’ you again before you return to Leoch.”

Dougal waved the notion away as if he were swatting at a pesky fly, scoffing, “Ach, I’ll be here for a while yet… too many redcoat patrols for my taste. Wouldna want to leave ye and have them swarm the place.”

A noise of shock and dismay left my lips before I could stop it and Murtagh sprang into action, all but shoving us in the right direction. Large black spots suddenly appeared at the edges of my vision, obscuring the sudden image of a hangman’s noose around my husband’s neck. My knees buckled beneath me and I latched desperately onto Jamie’s shirtfront.

“Easy, Sassenach,” he crooned as I sagged into him, trembling violently. “I’ve got you.”

“If ye’ll excuse us,” Murtagh growled as we sidestepped Dougal and continued guiding us down the hall, nearly pulling the both of us along behind him.

They wouldn’t, would they?

Religious sanctuary was irrevocable, our protection irrefutable so long as we stayed within the abbey walls…

Wasn’t it?

Father Anselm and the other elders would uphold our right to sanctuary here at the cost of their lives, I knew, but they didn’t stand a chance against an overwhelming military force with a legitimate claim of action. They were harboring not only an escaped convict, but a posse of murderous Highlanders besides. The religious laws and traditions of a Roman Catholic monastery — decidedly Scottish — would be tossed aside without a moment’s hesitation in order to capture the enemies of a mighty, entirely Protestant army.

Get a grip, Beauchamp. This is the seventeen-forties, not the fourteen-forties.

I had no recollection of the rest of the walk back to Jamie’s room, but suddenly blinked and found myself perched on the edge of Jamie’s bed, his pale face studying mine with marked concern.

“Are you alright, mo chridhe?”

“No,” I let out a shuddering sigh. “That bloody man scares the fucking daylights out of me.”

A decided snort sounded from the edges of my vision and I turned to find Murtagh all but bolting the door shut.

“He willna be layin’ a hand on ye, lass,” he vowed. “No’ if I have anythin’ to say about it”

I rather thought Murtagh would have quite a lot to say about the matter, should it be pressed, but I shoved the thought of that away.

Jamie is here.

Murtagh is here.

I am safe.

“You’re safe, Claire,” Jamie echoed my thoughts aloud, using the phrase I often reassured him with.

I nodded with an attempt at a smile, but knew I didn’t quite manage to pull it off.

“We’ll find a way to be out of here an’ his reach, aye?” He continued, tucking a stray curl behind my ear before brushing a tear from my cheek.

“To France, maybe? We’re no’ far from the coast… if we left soon, we could be to Paris or Le Havre a’ least before the bairns came.”

Murtagh seized this idea with an eager determination, “Aye, ye’ve many a kin who’d aid ye there… both Fraser an’ MacKenzie, come to that.”

“Then it’s settled,” Jamie pulled me into his arms, his lips moving against my neck as he announced, “We’ll leave wi’ the first ship tha’ll take us.”

…

One week later.

This proved to be a more difficult task than we’d anticipated, for travel across this area of the channel in the dead of winter was rare, and it seemed we would remain at the abbey for a good while yet.

“Any luck?” I asked unnecessarily as Murtagh entered the room, answering me with a decided shake of his head.

Jamie had dozed off and I’d hoped — in vain — to get some sleep while he did, but it was not to be. I’d found myself restless and the lives within me even more so, and so I’d given it up entirely… returning to his side instead and attempting to sketch out rough schematics for a Pinard horn.

I turned back to my paper, tapping the pencil impatiently against my drawing as I thrust the idea out into the open.

“Could you make something out of wood for me?” I blurted, not quite making eye contact with him.

“Hmm?” he intoned in grumpy confusion… perhaps this wasn’t the right time to ask him for a favor.

He grumbled, “What do ye need?”

I shoved the paper into his hands, explaining hastily before he tuned out entirely, “A Pinard horn… it’s a medical instrument in my time that lets you hear a person’s heartbeat more clearly… mostly used by midwives to hear baby’s within the womb.”

Murtagh’s eyes widened at this and then dropped to study what I’d given him.

“You can hear… them… wi’ this?”

“Yes,” I nodded eagerly. “I don’t remember the exact measurements… only that it’s shaped like this,” I pointed to curve of it.

“It might take a few tries to get it right,” I warned, but he shook his head.

“I dinna mind,” he assured me, then launched into a series of questions that left me without a doubt that we’d soon be able to hear my babies’ heartbeats.

I took hold of his hand, once he had all the information he needed, and squeezed it tightly, murmuring, “Thank you.”

A slow smile spread across his face as squeezed back, an acknowledging nod his response before he added,

“Tis just wha’ the lad needs, no?”

#outlander fanfic #Metamorphosis AU #chapter 24 #convalescence pt 1

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mysweetestcreature · 6 years

Text

Wish Upon A Star (StepBro!Harry) Part X

Part IX

***

“I’m so proud of you,” she smiles up at him as she balances herself on her toes to give him a quick peck. After the success of his last project––and yes, that project––Harry is now an official partner, owning an even thirty-two percent of the company’s holdings. He truly deserves it, especially considering how he had dedicated every minute of his life to working, upon completion of his degree. (It’s only now that he’s eased up, and he says she’s to blame for why he’s gone slack all of a sudden.) They’re at his congratulatory party, surrounded by his colleagues from the firm.

“When we get home, how about you show me how much,” he husks in her ear, his hand trailing dangerously low on her body. She releases a low giggle, her fingers reaching up to caress the small hairs on his chin.

She’s sure to stick to his side all night. One of the other architect’s secretaries seems to harbor a crush on her man and makes it so painstakingly obvious. Sometimes, when she visits him on her lunch break, she’ll catch the redheaded woman––Ivy, she thinks her name is––shooting her annoyed looks whenever she passes through the doors. It’s quite funny though, how Harry never seems to notice when she’s trying so hard to show off her cleavage from her unbuttoned blouse. When she’d asked him about it before, his reply was a simple, “I only really like looking at your tits, love,” and that was the end of that discussion.

“If looks could kill,” she says, and he doesn’t even need to turn around because he knows exactly what she’s referring to. Instead, he presses his mouth to her temple, keeping them there as her scent floods through his nostrils. “You should really talk to Greg about this one. Naomi told me she’s been begging her for a switch.” Naomi, Harry’s secretary, a sweet older lady, had expressed her grievances about the whole situation.

“Stop paying attention to her, and pay a little more attention to your fiancé, yeah?” he smirks, letting his breath hover over her expecting lips.

***

Uh-oh.

All the wedding planning has consumed their free time outside of work. Harry’s just finalized the designs for the hotel––they’re about to start construction within the next couple of days–– and Y/n has finally managed to organize the company’s budget (no one bothered to tell her that the former executive accountant had been such a moron). When they’re not at work, they’re meeting with the wedding planner, or knocked out in bed. Any minute in between their busy itinerary is used for a quickie on the couch, in the shower, or against the fridge.

They knew this was bound to happen eventually, they’ve talked about it multiple times now. The timing isn’t necessarily bad. With the wedding in just a little over two and a half weeks, her dress is sure to fit…hopefully. It’s just that she can’t believe she’s gone an entire month without remembering. Y/n fiddles with her 2-carat white-gold engagement ring, as she stares at her untouched foil of birth control that sits contemptuously on the island.

“Harry?” she calls. His footsteps echo through their flat as he makes his way from the bedroom.

“Yeah, baby?” his hands slide down to her hips and he peeks over her shoulder. “What are you looking at? Aren’t those your pills?”

She nods her head slowly, “They’re from last month.” He hums in acknowledgement, and she sighs when he doesn’t get what she’s trying to allude. “I haven’t taken them in a month.”

“A month,” he repeats as if there’s no underlying meaning. She listens as he says it another three times before he’s spinning her on her heel to face him. “Are you…?” his eyes are bulging out of their sockets; his mouth hangs open with the ends turned up.

“I don’t know. I mean, I can’t remember if I got my period last month. Or the month before…” she searches her brain for whether she had ever sent him out for tampons, but it’s all lost in the jumble of wedding prep that’s marked every inch of her memory since the beginning of May.

Harry hesitantly places his hand on her clothed stomach, gently rubbing small circles over where a little bean might be growing into a baby, their baby. He’s always wanted to be a dad. Ever since his own had abandoned him and his mum when he was younger, he promised himself that he would never do that to his own child.

“You think there’s one in there?” he asks and lifts his gaze to meet hers. A smile graces over her soft features when she sees the expectancy in his eyes. She knows when the time comes, whether it be sooner than expected, Harry will make the best daddy in the world, she’s sure of it.

***

When she sees her son adjusting his collar in the mirror, she instantly bursts into tears. It feels like only yesterday that he was her little boy always begging for his mummy’s attention and menacing any man that showed even a hint of interest in her. He turns around and gives her a crooked smile and extends his arms for her to wrap herself in.

“Can’t have you ruining your makeup, Mum. Need you to be looking your best,” he jokes. Anne grasps his shoulders, leaning back to get a good look him.

“My bub is getting married, you can’t expect me not to,” she says, fixing an astray hair and smoothing it back to join the others. “I’ve just seen her, she looks absolutely stunning. I already know you’ll be spluttering over your words later.” Just before coming here, she had snuck a peak at her daughter. And bless her heart, she doesn’t think she’s ever seen a more radiant bride (just don’t tell Aunt Deborah that her she’s been overthrown). “Oh, you two are going to give me the most perfect grandbabies one day!” she exclaims, and Harry chuckles as he brings her in for another hug.

He groans at the thought that he hasn’t seen his love in well over sixteen hours. If there’s one thing Harry doesn’t like, it’s waking up without her. His mum had insisted on them staying in separate ends of the house the night before the wedding. “The last time I’ll ever forcibly separate you,” she had joked while leading Y/n away. He doesn’t identify himself to believe any of those superstitions that those from decades before him, but just to appease her, he allowed himself to succumb to the traditions––it’s not like they need it though, after all, nothing about their relationship has been considered to follow the conventional route.

“Now you be a good husband, you hear me?” his mum says sternly. “In case it might have slipped your mind, I’m rather close to your bride-to-be, so I expect some stellar behavior from you, or so help me God.” But she knows that she doesn’t have to worry about him treating Y/n right. Because right from day one, Harry has always treated her the way every woman deserves. And if what she’s witnessed over the past few months––with an open mind this time around––it’s obvious that he doesn’t know any other way.

***

She giggles has her father twirls her around, the skirt of her gown flowing gracefully around her feet. It’s like she’s a little girl again, dancing with her daddy, while she balances on his toes as he waltzes her around the living room. Right now, everything is much different, his precious gem is just moments away to fulfilling yet another mark a maturity. He’s gotten much better at accepting just how fast of a pace she’s grown up before his eyes.

“Your mum would be so proud,” he says softly. After all, all of what’s happening today is her handy work. In just a few short minutes, the wedding planner will be signaling them to get into place, then he’s sending her off to embark on this new journey.

“Thanks, Dad,” she sighs happily, throwing her arms around his neck. At the height of their preparation, her and Harry had taken to looking through their parents’ wedding albums for some inspiration. And as her fingers grazed over a photograph of her mum in her white dress, she couldn’t help but wish that she had gotten more time to spend with her, to really get to know her. “She’ll be watching us, I guarantee it. Will have the best seat in the house, I reckon,” Harry had tried to lighten up her mood.

She breathes in deeply, chills scattering down her back. “Is it weird that I’m still nervous? I mean, I’ve married him so many times in the backyard,” she laughs, and wriggles her arms to relax herself.

“It’s completely normal to get little jitters. I’ve gotten married twice, and they just don’t go away. You should’ve seen Harry when I went to see him earlier, poor lad couldn’t even get his tie right,” he replies.

“How does he look?” she asks eagerly, not even a day, and she’s missing him terribly. When she had gotten out of bed this morning, she had called him, just wanting to hear his voice. They talked for a good hour, despite him still being half asleep and mumbling random bits of information in her ear about how he can’t wait to call her his wife, and how he wants to make more babies with her.

“Takes after his old man, yeah?” and she rolls her eyes at the subtle stroke of his own ego. “He looks rather dashing, and hopelessly excited to see you.”

He watches as she smiles to herself, and fiddles with the flowers in her bouquet. Everything about her lets him know that she’s ready to start this new chapter in her life. Ready to take on the obstacles of marriage that he just knows that her and Harry will be exceptional at. A gentle knock on the door, and the planner pokes her head in. He nods at her, then turns back to get one last look at his daughter.

“Let’s get you married.”

***

Age 16:

They’re walking home from Georgina Rupert’s Sweet 16. The aftermath of their confession of feelings has them feeling all giddy. Neither one of them has been able to wipe the stupid grins off their all too happy faces. And now that he knows how perfect her hand fits in his, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to let go.

“Hey, guess what?” Harry smirks, squeezing her hand.

“What?” she quirks an eyebrow. He stops walking and leans down and places a sweet kiss on her lips. When he pulls away, she’s a blushing a shade of rose. She can’t help it, she still hasn’t gotten over what had happened earlier, and she doesn’t know when she’ll get used to him kissing her, but she hopes he’ll do it again and again.

“Just wanted to kiss you,” his dimples pop out as he swings their arms back and forth. He’s so happy right now, the girl he’s loved for as long as he can remember loves him back. And it doesn’t even matter that his inner monologue is aligned with the biggest romantic clichés because that’s how amazing love actually feels.

But like every great love story, there lies some kind of problem that gets in their way. In their case, she’s supposed to be his sister––well, stepsister more like it––and he’s not supposed to want to kiss her when she makes cute faces or giggles in that way that makes his heart beat twice as fast. He’s supposed to be guarding her from unwanted suitors and making fun of her just because he’s her brother.

As they come closer and closer to their street, the initial feelings of excitement are slowly morphing into chest-constricting anxiousness. Y/n bites her lip nervously when the lights of their front porch become more visible with every timid step. “What are we…Harry they’ll freak out.” What would they do? For sure they wouldn’t be happy about it.

“Relax, love. I need you to relax,” he cups her cheeks to get her to stop moving and look at him. “We’re just going to have to be careful, yeah? Mum and Dad won’t find out as long as we don’t act any different from how we usually are.”

“You think we’ll be able to pull this off?” she asks unsurely. “You’re absolute rubbish at keeping secrets. Every year you blurt out what everyone’s gotten each other for Christmas. Just the other week you accidentally told Mu-”

He cuts her off by attaching his lips to hers. “You’re worth all the effort.”

***

Present Day:

Each step she takes is just one step closer to finally being able to start the lives they had always hoped for. Because now there’s no heavily guarded secret that looms ever their heads, and they are no longer afraid of getting caught in the midst of any passionate act of affection. No more hiding behind the façade that they’re not completely head over heels crazy about each other. And as she walks down the center of the white throw that covers the grass, her hand placed snuggly in the arm of her father, she can’t stop the memories that encircle her mind as she gets closer and closer to the person she shares all of them with.

All those times she coerced him into playing her Prince Charming, to the night of their first kiss when feelings had been spewed out into the chilled air of the winter night, to the day of their unlikely reunion after punishing years of separation; each one, and every little kiss and argument in between, are all a part of the story that started way before either one of them knew how to properly tie their shoes.

His eyes meet hers, connected by a shared trance from the vision of each other that grows bigger as she draws nearer. And it’s like he can already see their entire future flash before him in elaborate spurts of images of what the rest of their lives will be like once the priest officiates their everlasting promise of love and unity. They were just kids when their hearts chose each other, nearly eighteen years ago. But now…now they’re adults functioning in the enigma of the real world, yet he still gets that wistful flutter that encompasses his entire being whenever his name rolls off her plump lips.

“Go get him,” Eric smiles at her and kisses her cheek through her vail, the glimmer of a tear sparkling in the corner of his left eye as he hands are off to man he’s been blessed enough to call his son. He envelops Harry in a strong hug, patting the younger man’s back. “Take care of each other,” he says to both of them. And he backs away, returning to his designated seat. He catches Anne’s eyes from the adjacent pew, and they nod at each other because finally they got it right.

Harry squeezes her hand as he takes in her appearance up close. “You look beautiful, baby,” he whispers to her over the decrescendo of the string quartet. And she peers up at him with glistening orbs, a smile worth every pearl in the world. He leans his forehead against hers, bumping noses before they turn to the priest.

“Dearly beloved,” his voice is light and vivacious, “we are gathered here today in the sight of God, and in the presence of family and friends to join together this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony.” Behind them, there’s already an audible sniffle. “Commended as a commendable estate, instituted by God and therefore into lightly but reverently, passionately, lovingly and solemnly. Into this, these two persons present now come to be joined. If any person can show cause as to why these two cannot be joined together, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

As hard as they try to pay attention to the readings and all the prayers and other traditional elements of the ceremony, the bubbling mixture of elation and fulfillment make each moment they spend standing next to one another. With their hands tightly clasped together, their hearts beat as a single entity.

For a moment, Harry loses sight of where they are, his stare panning to the left, mesmerized by the woman he’ll soon be calling his missus. It’s only until the priest is calling for him to recite his vows. The rest of his body aligns with his head, and he can already feel the sweet burn prickling behind his eyes as she looks back at him.

“I’ve known you all my life, and there’s not much I can tell you now that you won’t already know. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, and I could go on and on about how much I love you and all that you mean to me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, baby. You’re my heart…got me properly whipped, yeah?” he jokes, eyebrows mischievously bouncing. The audience bursts into a medley of laughter, as Y/n lightly hits his arm.

“We met because our parents fell in love, and I don’t think anyone expected that we would follow their lead, but I’m so thankful that we did. Because I can’t imagine loving anyone else as much as I love you or sharing any of the experiences I’ve had with anyone else. There’s no one else I’d ever want to do any of this with.” There’s a brief moment of silence, but their eyes never stop talking. A smile from her as she tilts her head to the side, and he knows to continue. “I promise to love and cherish you for the rest of my life. I promise to be there for you through all the tests and trials we might endure, and especially when we try to take on our little one when he or she gets here.”

A gasp spreads throughout the crowd. Eric and Anne turn to each other, mouths ajar as the they replay the words in their heads. From behind him, he can here a faint ‘I knew it,’ presumedly from Miguel. They turn back to see their children staring back at them, slowly nodding to confirm their greatest delight. Anne blows them a kiss with weepy eyes, the tears making little puddles on the fabric of her dress. Her husband, along with others, start cheering and whistling in celebration of a new baby ready to enter the world.

“I already know that you’ll be the best mummy there is. Our baby is going to adore you as much as I do. And just know that once we’ve got a hang of the little bugger, I’ll be ready to start making the next one,” he winks. His hand lands on her waist, and gently tugs her close to place a chaste kiss to her forehead. “I love you both with all that I am, and I can’t wait to start our family. We deserve this, my love.”

“Y/n, if you could recite your vows to Harry.”

“I know we said no crying, but…” she carefully wipes under her lower lash line, praying that the two coats of waterproof mascara are holding up fine. “I love you, I have since I was a little girl. We’ve dreamt of this for practically our entire lives, and being here with you right now? It’s like an actual fairytale come to life.” A giggle passes through her lips. “Not many people meet the love of their lives so early, but we’ve never been a standard case.”

“We’ve been through a lot together; and even when things got messy, you were still there at the end of it all. People think the greatest love stories are just artificial narratives in movies and books, but I think ours might be the best one there is. No one has fought as hard for this as we have, and…” there’s no stopping the emotions that overcome her as she thinks about all that it took to be standing here today, “I’m so thankful that you never gave up on me or stopped loving me even when I left.”

A surreal melody of sniffling and hushed sobs spread through the crowd like wildfire. And yet, no one can truly feel the expanse of what they’re feeling. Because to everyone else, this is a wedding between two people that fell in love, but to them, it’s means so much more. This is their triumph. It’s the much-awaited illumination at the end of the darkest, most emotionally draining tunnel. With genial tears in their smiling eyes, they bask in this greatest achievement.

“And I promise you that I’ll never leave again, not unless you’re with me. I promise to be the best wife to you, and to laugh at all your jokes, no matter how corny they may be,” he rolls his eyes jokingly, at the subtle shade (his jokes are phenomenal, mind her). “Our little bub is going to be the luckiest child in the world because they will have you as their daddy.” She takes a deep breath, using the time the fresh garden air fills her lungs to really take him in, scan over the features she knows all too well. “I love you, Harry.”

***

Age 6:

Whenever they play wedding, if Y/n is the bride, then Harry absolutely has to be the groom, and vice versa. There’s no exception to the rules. Carrie had complained that it was her turn to be bride, but Y/n had stood her ground. So, as they stand in front of Fr. Jameson––who’s got his bible, a.k.a. Anne’s gourmet cookbook open to a recipe for pecking duck––imitating the lines he once heard recited on the telly.

“Do you, Harry, take Y/n to be your wife?” he asks the curly-haired boy.

Harry nods his head eagerly, a cheeky smile adorning his young face. “Yeah! ...I mean, I do!”

“Ok…and do you, Y/n, take Harry to be your husband?” he repeats to the beaming little girl wearing her white sundress with the little daisies lined up on the bottom hem.

“I do!” she exclaims. She plays with the bottom of her dress, as she sways her body in anticipation for what’s to come next. As everyone knows, once the bride and the groom say, ‘I do,’ they get to kiss! Cinderella kissed Prince Charming at their wedding, and so did Sleeping Beauty and Prince Philip!

Jameson shrinks away, his nose scrunching up as he scratches the back of his head. “I’m not sure what to say next,” he confesses in a whisper to Harry’s ear. Carrie, from where she stands off center, smacks her hand to her forehead.

***

Present Day:

“For as much as Harry and Y/n have consented together in holy matrimony and witnessed the same before God and those present…” and as the ceremony draws to an end, the proclamation they’ve waited years to hear, is finally within reach, and the priest broadcasts the most delicate grouping of words to tickle their eardrums, “…I know pronounce you husband and wife.” He gives the groom a knowing look, and he knows he’s waiting anxiously for his go signal. “Harry, you may now kiss your bride.”

No one needs to tell him twice. Harry lifts the vail over his wife’s head, until it’s gracefully hanging behind her. His hands reach up to gently cup her face, thumbs stroking away the dampness on her cheek. The audience is cheering them on, waiting to witness their first action as a married couple. They both lean in, pausing for just a moment to let the ends of their lips dance around each other. It’s Y/n who closes the gap, and their mouths fully connecting. And it gives them similar feelings to the first kiss they had shared when they were sixteen when they had declared their love, but this time, there’s no need to hide any of it.

They say that people have the power to choose their own destiny, but sometimes it won’t hurt to let fate interfere every once in a while. A widower with a daughter met a divorcee with a son during a quick run to the supermarket during lunch break. They fell in love, got married, became a family unit, simple and straightforward. But it was never their story, they were just pons in the grand scheme of life because that’s the thing about fate. It has crazy ways of bringing two people––who some would say shouldn’t be together––into each other’s lives. Fate can take on many forms: you may meet at a social event, bump carts at the store, or if you choose to believe in them, a wish upon a star.

***

Age 6:

Jameson and Carrie faces contort in pure disgust, both still firm believers in kids of opposite genders carrying cooties and other diseases. And he places the sweetest most innocent kiss on her nose, and she can’t help but giggle when she feels his wet lips touch her skin. There’s an indescribable flutter happening in their tummies––maybe they’re just hungry, Anne surely has put together some snacks inside––but maybe it’s another sensation that hasn’t quite made its way into their vocabularies at such a tender age.

Whatever it may be, they’re in love with the feeling.

***

Present Day: 29 Weeks

Pregnancy is fun, as Y/n has come to learn. Besides the morning sickness, which doesn’t seem to be all that bad, she finds that she enjoys most of it. Her cravings had started very early, and she’s had her husband running out of their flat (their house still under construction) at 3am with some of the strangest requests, a popular one being a chippy dipped in peanut butter with a dollop of mayonnaise.

Although, he can’t complain because the sex has been amazing! God, how he’s obsessed with her boobs. There are at least a dozen pictures of close ups he’s taken since he first took notice. It’s true what they say, with her hormone levels hitched up, she’s jumping his bones every chance she gets, and he’s always a willing participant.

So, as they lay in bed together, his back propped against the headboard as she leans into his chest, his hands gently roam her tummy. “Has he been kicking a lot today?” He loves feeling his little one moving in there. The baby loves hearing his daddy’s voice, always reacting whenever he’s near.

“Mmhm,” she hums, fingers filling in the spaces between his. “He’d been feeling fussy all morning…had me running to the loo every twenty minutes,” she shakes her head, “but then you came home and suddenly he’s an angel.”

“My boy just missed me is all, right bub?” he rubs over the smooth swell, and he feels light thump from inside. “See, already know he’ll be a fair football player!”

She rolls her eyes and lightly jabs her elbow back. Not even born yet, and her son is already a mini-Harry. Anne had described in full detail every aspect of her pregnancy with Harry, and so far, hers is matching that to a tee.

In about ten weeks or so, they’ll finally be able to meet their baby. His conception had been a surprise, but by no means unwelcomed. A true blessing if they’ve ever heard of one. The product of their love for one another, cultivated into a tiny being soon to enter their world and change their lives forever.

***

Present Day: 6 Years Later

Thirteen hours, that’s how long this labor had lasted her. The contractions had started while she was making lunch for her boys, a sudden rush of flowing water streaming down her legs. She’d expected the delivery of this baby to be as easy as the last, after all, they say that pregnancy gets easier with each one.

Their first born, Lucas––or Luca, as everyone calls him––gave her no trouble at all, popping out of her within three hours of her water breaking. It’s hard to believe that he’s already five, when it feels like only yesterday she was holding him in her arms for the first time. The spitting image of his daddy, same green eyes and dark brown hair that curl at the ends, and same adorable dimples that she loves so much. Luca is their little athlete. The moment he came into contact with his little red ball that Gramps had bought for him, he was kicking it around the house, much to his mummy’s dismay. Whenever Harry’s home from work, he drags him into their backyard to kick the football around.

When Luca was about nine months, their neighbors, Joaquin and Annalise Pewter, were giving away little puppies that their beagle had just birthed. At first the new parents had been a bit weary, but one of the pups had jumped over the barricade when he saw the family. Harry knelt to the ground, with his son in his arms, to get closer. “What do you think, little man, are we taking him home with us?” Harry had asked the nine-month old. The pup––who the family now affectionately call Pancake––scouted his snout to sniff Luca’s chubby hand, and the heartwarming sound of a baby’s magical laugh entranced all wistful listeners in the room. “That settles it then.”

Baby #2, Declan, had been the easiest of the three to deliver. Welcomed into the world as soon as she was brought to the hospital (and it’s true what they say, sex does indeed help induce labor). He’s got features to match both Harry and Y/n, ‘the most perfect blending,’ as his nan had described. Their sweet little three-year-old, always following one of his parents around the house, and pouting whenever they drop him off at nursery school. “But I want to go to work with you, Mumma” is his argument every morning. It takes everything in her to ignore his big green eyes as she rushes back into the car, but at least she’s stronger than Harry. She once scolded her husband for actually taking their son to work.

And now, after thirteen hours of pushing as hard as her exhausted body could afford, their precious youngest snoozes in Y/n’s arms. “You did great, baby,” Harry says with his lips to her temple. “She’s perfect.” He’s completely awestruck by his little angel swaddled in the baby pink blanket, a little hat sitting atop her head to keep her warm. Her still swollen eyes shut as she basks in skin on skin connection with her mummy’s bare chest. He leans down to delicately press a kiss her flushed cheek.

“She is, isn’t she?” Y/n replies, playing with her daughter’s little fingers on the arm that’s escaped its wrapping.

He nods, as he wipes away a fallen tear. “Looks just like you,” he says. After two sons that resemble him more and more each day, he’s happy that he’s finally got himself a mini version of his love. “My little love is just as pretty as her mumma.” The baby’s smaller fingers now move to wrap around his index finger.

“Why is she so tiny?” Declan asks from his place by her legs. He examines his baby sister’s small figure carefully. When Y/n had gone into labor, he was rather upset when both his parents rushed out of the house, leaving him and Luca with their grandparents.

“Nana says all babies are tiny when they come out of their mummy’s tummies,” Luca explains. During this pregnancy, he’d grown extremely attached to Y/n. Always peppering kisses on his mum’s bump and talking to his sister through the protruding skin.

Declan scratches his head, as he tries to absorb the new information. Suddenly he’s gasping in realization, “Was I that small, Daddy? Because I came out of Mumma’s tummy too, right?” Harry chuckles and nods in confirmation and watches his son gape in disbelief.

“What’s her name?” it’s Luca’s turn to ask the questions. He crawls up so he’s sitting snuggly between his mum and dad, wanting to get an even closer look at the new addition to their family; and Declan follows suit, and settles in Harry’s lap.

When they found out they were having a girl––they always opt to find out the gender of their babies as soon as possible––one name in particular came to mind. It seemed fitting, especially since they have this person to thank for all of this.

“Charlotte,” Y/n smiles, and the baby in her arms makes a little noise in response. Her eyes open widely, taking in her new surroundings. “You like that, don’t you? We can call you Charlie, my sweet girl.”

“That’s Nana Char’s name!” Luca exclaims. The way he’s looking at his sister and the way his fingers fidget with each other gives away what’s on his mind. “Mumma, can I hold her, please?” he asks nervously. Y/n instructs him to open up his arms, and she very carefully sets the newborn in his lap, making sure that her head is well supported. He has the biggest smile on his face when Charlie peers up at him, a small quirk at the ends of her delicate lips twitch up. “She smiled at me!”

Harry ruffles the hairs on his eldest boy’s head. “You’re doing a good job, bub,” he praises. Their younger boy starts to stir in his lap, squirming around until he’s standing up in place, his little hands clutching his dad’s shoulders. “And what’s my little monkey up to, hmm?” But Declan’s body leans flush against his chest, his head nestled into the crook of his neck. Y/n watches has his eyes begin to flutter close.

“Someone’s tired,” she rubs his back and places multiple kisses to his palm. All the craziness of this past day sure has taken a toll on them all, but of course, it had all been worth it. Harry lifts up from the side of her hospital bed, and gently sways back and forth to lull the drifting child in his arms, whispering sweet little nothings into his ear, and pecking the side of his head until he’s completely crossed over.

He meets his missus’s eyes, hers welling up with a gleaming wetness, complemented by a luminous array of whites peeking from behind her lips. She pats the empty space next to Luca and Charlie. Minding a sleeping Declan, he sits back down next to the rest of his family. It’s the one he and wife had dreamed about since before they were eighteen, and finally it’s tangible in their hands.

They did it.

Fin.

***

A/N: Marriage? Check! Adorable little bubs? Triple Check!

Thank you for all the support you’ve given this story! I can’t even begin to express how thankful I am to each one of you. All your comments and messages have really made this experience all worth while, and I hope I’m leaving you all satisfied now that it’s come to an end, and hopefully some of you love these characters as much as I do!

Comments? Questions? Concerns? Bub Requests? Tell me here!

#stepbro!harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #series finale

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nadeemahmedmumbai22-blog · 5 years

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Doomed in Dubai by Nadeem Ahmed

Me; a Model/Presenter/Fashion event director living in Accrington, Lancashire! Hardly the fashion capital of the world I know! Just a mere small village where news spreads like wild fire! It was a known fact that I was a successful model due to my face being splattered all over the place, even locally! I have always been and still am very committed and dedicated to my work.

Being a model was considered a very unconventional career for a northern lad but I knew from a very early age that I was going to break the mould and do something completely different! A very tough industry to break into but thankfully through a lot of challenges, rejections and hard work I found my path.

My story begins from December 2003. I had completed several modelling assignments up and down the country and was so ready for a break. It had been a successful year and now that Christmas was fast approaching, it was time to wind down, spend quality time with family and break all dietary rules!

Traditionally every year, my family would get together at ours for the festive season.

I lived with my grandparents from a very early age and considered them to be my parents. Our house was the central point for all the family and the thread that kept us all together.

I had a good relationship with most of my family members but there were a few rotten eggs which is normal I guess!

I hadn’t seen my cousins for such a long time because of work commitments and so was more than excited about our get together.

We would talk till early hours of the morning without a care in the world.

On some days we would go food shopping at the supermarket at 3am creating a harmless racket!

We got onto the subject of travelling and lucky for my cousin, she and her family had just returned from a place called ‘Dubai’. A place I had never heard of! In all fairness my geographical skills had never been strong. She spoke about it in a very enticing way. I was sold! I needed a break after working so consistently. It seemed the perfect getaway destination as halal food was accessible throughout with it being an Islamic country. I always ate halal food and the thought of going into a Mcdonalds where I could literally eat anything off the menu was so appealing. So sad but true! She also said that getting around was easy and most importantly it was always baking hot which to me was the biggest plus because I hate the cold!

Before long, I had decided that I would be going to Dubai for my holiday. The excitement was building up thick and fast.

I booked my flight which was going to take me to Dubai via Istanbul.

Once I had received all the confirmations, I broke the news to my family telling them that I would be going away for New Years. They were a bit shocked but at the same time so used to me going here there and everywhere! I felt I really owed this holiday to myself after working so incredibly hard! One of my friends recommended that I should check out a website called www.expatriates.com where people connected from all corners of the world sharing their experiences of travel and living abroad. I was always an organised person and so was on the case immediately. I registered myself on the site and left a message on the forum stating that I would be in Dubai and if anyone could make any recommendations?

I was pleasantly surprised to have received some messages from someone called Ethan who seemed most helpful. He was initially from Brazil but now working in Dubai in one of the opulent hotels. He was kind enough to suggest sorting out my accommodation for me to ensure I got a good deal. We exchanged several messages and it felt safe to say that he seemed a trustworthy guy.

It was decided that he would meet me at the airport in Dubai and escort me to my accommodation.

Finally having got to Dubai after almost missing my flight and paying for a Turkish visa that I didn’t need, I was feeling a bit nervous about meeting Ethan but managed to put the doubt to the back of my mind and just decided to roll with it. After all I was an adult that was capable of looking after myself! Besides, Dubai was one of the safest places in the world from what I had read!

As planned Ethan came to the airport, tallish, slim-built with sleeked back jet black hair. Not even an earthquake could move a single strand of hair on his head. He was very friendly and seemed as nice as his messages so I chilled out and began to feel comfortable in his company.

Not long into my stay, Ethan introduced me to one of his closest friends, ‘Luca Hadad’, a television personality from Lebanon who was working for a very well established company in Dubai.

Luca was quite tall, slender built, very fair skinned with green eyes. His hair was very dark in colour with very tight curls. He was dressed very professionally and oozing with confidence.

I seemed to have bonded very quickly with Dubai and I was sure getting the love back! This crazy love put a very random thought into my head.

The thought of leaving my life in the UK behind and trading it in for a more exotic lifestyle! It made sense, I was meeting the right people, I was so happy and at peace, I even had continual great weather which was a big thing for me! So, in true Nadeem style I literally ripped up my ticket! In those days we didn’t have the privilege of e-tickets.

I had decided Dubai was going to be my new home. I wasn’t going back to the UK!

Being totally spontaneous was nothing new to me. It was my comfort zone. I loved to live life on the edge!

Everything was falling into place so naturally that it felt so surreal.

I found a lovely studio flat in Deira. It was cosy and all mine! I was settling in so seamlessly. I felt so blessed that my family were so supportive of my crazy decision.

I felt I knew Ethan and Luca on a much better level now and we were all getting on so well. Luca even suggested that I would be a great asset working for his company presenting English lifestyle programmes. This brought music to my ears after all my money wouldn’t last forever and I needed to work!

Luca was in touch on a regular basis and he mentioned that he would have to leave his swanky flat in Sharjah because the landlord didn’t want tenants anymore. Me being me suggested that he should move into my place until he sorted himself out. I was just so grateful that Luca was pushing his seniors to have me working for them. It was the least I could do!

A meeting had been arranged at the office for me to sign all the paperwork and get all the formalities out of the way for my new job. I got there early and eager as usual. The paperwork was all in Arabic but Luca just asked me to sign on the dotted line and pay the equivalent of £500 cash for the visa. I thought this to be very odd but paid up and didn’t question it in the hope that I would officially have my visa sorted soon and a full time dream job. He was a friend so trust issues were not even on the agenda.

I had been most productive by contacting several model agencies. To my delight, all the hard work had paid off because the work was coming in!

Then one day Ethan decided that we should have a party at my house to celebrate the big move and friendship and so on. He would supply the alcohol and my job was to get some food. I made it clear to him that I didn’t drink but the curiosity had always lingered with me. I had never in my life tasted alcohol! Ethan bullied me into having my first drink, except my first drink was not a little shot but a whole pint of orange juice out done by Jack Daniels. Needless to say I was paralytic. All I could remember was smashing plates, one after the other which was so out of character for me! I also remember being slapped very hard by Ethan and being thrown into a cold shower with my clothes on! The hangover was the worst anyone could ever imagine. I vowed never to drink again!

Time was flying by and there was still no sign of my visa. Things started to go down in a very surreal way. I was told by Luca that Ethan would be moving into my flat because his contract was coming to an end and that he didn’t have anywhere else to stay. Luca who initially had promised to help me financially with rent and bills seemed to have swallowed his words as there was no sign of even a dhiram from him! My money was running out and I needed financial help. Instead, I was having to pay ridiculous amounts of money regularly for my visa that still had not been processed! Unfortunately I was not aware of the rules and regulations regarding visas in the UAE so I was at the mercy of Luca and his knowledge of these things!

My stress levels were shooting through the roof because now I was looking after two more people as well as myself. They were becoming very reliant on me for food, bills and everything basically. They were blatantly taking full advantage of my kind nature!

I was constantly reassured of empty promises that never saw the light of day! There seemed no end to my misery until Ethan announced that he was going back to Brazil then heading off to London to start a new life. It truly was amazing to hear such good news.

Still no visa however there seemed to be a bit of light at the end of the tunnel as Luca and one of his local friends came up with an idea for a lifestyle television show. I was to be fully involved in recruiting models and covering the fashion aspect for the show. The best part was that the local lady would be able to sort my visa out for me. This was such great news as the locals have a lot of power and can make anything happen at any time! Finally it was all pulling together.

Luca’s behaviour was getting incredibly weird. It’s like he was testing me to see how much I trusted him by doing vile things like putting faeces on my toothbrush and completely denying doing it as no one else had access to my flat apart from him so it had to be him, stealing my phone from right under my nose and making me believe that I had lost it even though I was 100% sure where I had left it before heading out for a casting. He had stooped to an even lower level by pimping me out to a wealthy local without my knowledge by referring to him as a ‘client’ that wanted to book me for a model shoot. When I met the client he had a totally different agenda and shouted at me when I refused to comply with his dirty intentions. He said that Luca had received an advance payment for my time with him and that Luca would not receive the rest of the remaining fees! This was all way too much for me to handle! I was losing my mind! I couldn’t believe I was being punished for being so trusting!

I tried to kick Luca out but I became a victim in my own home. I could not get rid of him no matter how hard I tried! I was trapped!

After shooting a fantastic pilot of the TV show in a wonderful studio in Ajman with all the amazing crew, I felt there was a bit of normality coming my way. No doubt it was going to be short-lived!

I was still without my work visa and realised that my tourist visa was about to expire! This was such a huge worry naturally. Again like a million times before, Luca convinced me that the local lady- Fatima his friend, would sort it out!

It so happened that Luca managed to speak with Fatima after the shoot. She said that we needed to meet up with her cousin as she was too busy and hand over my passport to him. He would then insure that it got to her.

We met her cousin who came to meet us in a very expensive luxury car. He insisted we get into the car. I then handed my passport over to him. He seemed quite genuine and concerned for me. However, that was the last time I saw my passport!

I was officially an illegal immigrant which meant I had a curfew as the police did random checks at night. If I got caught without any id then I would be put straight into jail, no questions asked! I don’t look conventionally British so how would I prove my identity without any official documents? I was a prisoner in a foreign country!

One random morning, Luca was up earlier than normal and all I could hear was the rustling of bags. He was all packed and ready to go back to Lebanon! It was a beautiful surprise to learn that I was finally getting rid of this dishonest, self-centred person who claimed to be my friend but just used me and rinsed me dry of my money!

Whilst leaving, he kept assuring me that Fatima would sort my visa and that I should stop worrying! He had instructed her to contact me as soon as it was done! I still had that glimmer of hope and with that bit of positive feeling I said good riddance to bad rubbish!

My home was once again my own. I was so elated! Words simply could not describe how I felt at that moment!

I went back to bed to sleep and got up feeling fresh and happy!

My peace was brutally interrupted with a heavy knock at the door. I wasn’t expecting anyone which was strange! So who was it? I went to open the door and to my extreme horror, I went flying back with a heavy punch from one of the guys that had come to my house. They were four heavy built guys on the hunt for Luca, who had swindled them out of thousands of pounds too as he had done to me. They knew he lived at my place and so came to get their money as they too were promised working visas but didn’t see anything for their money.

I tried to explain that I too was a victim of Luca’s trap but they wouldn’t have it! I was being severely battered by the ring leader who was amused at my reactions of when I was being hit!

They insisted that it was my responsibility to get all their money back and if I didn’t they would kill me and scrap away every bit of evidence of my existence. I was forced to write a document saying that I owed all of them money and that I would be paying the full amount back to them asap! They needed my fathers name, my UK address and my signature. According to them, this was a bound contract that I had to fulfil! I was told I was not going to get away! They had turned my flat upside down. It looked like a bomb site! They raided my wardrobes and took everything that seemed of value to them including my bag that housed my official documents including my university certificates, birth certificate, college certificates and cash money, not forgetting my mobile phone, my designer belts, clothing, camera and walkman! It didn’t seem like there were going anywhere! I was officially held hostage in my own flat!

I was given just a few hours to get thousands of pounds together. They hit me some more and left leaving my flat empty and lifeless with just a few things scattered around promising that they would be back the following day. On leaving I got my final punch for the day and they finally left several painful hours later!

Naturally I was not in a good way! The Stress and panic was overwhelming as I tried to figure out how I could possibly get such a substantial amount of money together in such a short space of time?

Time flew whilst I was lost in my thoughts on trying to make heads and tails of this surreal situation! It was too late! I got the dreaded knock on the door again. It was full blown aggressive and I felt that my life was about to be shortened! I was finished! They came busting in and continuing with the torture they had started the day before. I couldn’t get the money! It was impossible! I was being strangled and beaten. It was like I was having an out of body experience! It didn’t feel like it was really happening! The truth is that it was and I was living my worst nightmare. I was ‘Doomed In Dubai’!

Things were progressively getting worse and I was told by the ringleader that I would be taught a lesson that I would never forget! I was dragged onto the bed by my hair and held down by all four of them. I fought with my last bit of fight but failed miserably because I was totally outnumbered! Then the most horrific thing that could ever happen to anyone happened!!! The ring leader unbuttoned his trousers and thrust himself in me!! My body rose in the air like a dead corpse!

They eventually left swearing and spitting, leaving me for dead promising to be back! I was bleeding and crying for my mum uncontrollably. I was damaged far more than anyone could ever imagine!

Even though the situation was extreme and I was at my weakest, I needed to find a way out before they came back and finished me off for good! I had no money, no id or anything to my name for that matter. By the grace of God I found a phone card that had fallen on the floor beside my sideboard which miraculously had some credit on it. I rang one of Luca’s friends from the phone booth just outside my flat who I had met a while back because his number was an easy number to remember and for some very strange reason it was stuck in my head. It was a risk no doubt but I had nothing to loose.

I managed to speak to him and he advised me that I should go and stay with him which I did. He turned out to be an angel. He put me in contact with my family who then sent me some money over to get a new passport made from the embassy, a ticket to come back, a mobile phone and anything else that I needed.

Getting a new passport was by far a challenge and a half. I had to go to the police to get an official letter to say that my passport was missing which took weeks. I had to go everyday to the police station and tell my story to different officers. They obviously never exchanged notes! During this time I had become so frail! I was losing my hair, weight and not to forget my confidence which was nonexistent!

My family were in panic mode wondering whether I would ever return to the UK again? There was one particular time where I had lost the will and I remember vividly saying to my mother on the phone that I would never be coming back!

I feel blessed to have amazing friends as one of my friends from the UK found out that I was in trouble. She immediately contacted one of her friends who was visiting Dubai at the time, asking him to meet up with me and to accompany me to all the official offices to get my documents stamped and authenticated. He came to my rescue and was a huge tower of strength.

Eventually the day came when I finally said my goodbyes to Dubai. It didn’t feel real to me at all as I had lost all hope. I wasn’t myself anymore. I had lost everything!

I found it very difficult settling back into the UK. I wasn’t in a good place! I had to start my life from scratch which was no joke at the age of thirty! Every night I would have the same nightmare reoccurring which severely affected my sleep and my health!

Whilst in Dubai I didn’t have time to absorb all what had actually happened to me, I was just concerned about getting the hell out of there, but back in the UK it was starting to hit me more and affect me massively.

One day I took my mum and grand mother to a summer festival where my friend was performing. She had visited me in Dubai but I hadn’t mentioned anything to her about what was going on behind the scenes. We had a nice day and went back home at a reasonable time. Every day I was hating on myself more and more and on this particular day I was at my worse to the point where I ended up taking an overdose of paracetamols. I didn’t want to live anymore! I was found split seconds from death and saved. The ambulance had taken me to hospital and I had my stomach pumped. I stayed in hospital for a good few days and managed to arrange some counselling sessions with a psychiatrist. He encouraged me to get tested because I was sexually assaulted, which I did. I offloaded everything onto him which helped me hugely because it was building and bubbling up inside. I couldn’t bring myself to speak to my family about it!

Slowly slowly I was making progress. My confidence was coming back which was quite amazing. I decided to contact my model agencies to start working again. I loved my work and needed this to keep me sane!

I was truly blessed with another chance in life.

My test results came back negative and I started to enjoy life again.

After settling back and getting into routine I had a fantastic job offer of presenting a travel documentary in the UAE. I panicked but then decided that it would be good for me to go back and conquer my fears plus it was an opportunity of a lifetime to work with such bigwigs of the industry. I followed my heart and accepted the offer. I pulled through nicely after confiding in my colleague who supported me throughout!

I was always a traveller and felt that I needed a change. I was getting a lot of modelling work in London and so saw it as a sign to leave Lancashire and start afresh in London which is exactly what I did!

My life here has been fantastic and exhilarating. Naturally I still have some trust issues even today but not on the same level as before. I have surrounded myself with amazing positive people, my dear friends who have showed me how life should be lived. I am eternally grateful for their unconditional love and support!

It was important for me to write my book because it has helped me close this chapter of my life for good! Also I would not want anyone else to go through what I did, even if it is just that one person that learns from my experience. It’s a hugely educational rollercoaster read with a warning to others especially for people who have the travel bug and want to work and settle down abroad.

On the positive side of things, I am a much stronger person. I have learnt a very valuable lesson the hardest way possible. I have taken something so negative and turned it into something so positive! In my words- “What Breaks you, Makes you”!!!!

#nadeemahmed

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certifiedskywalker · 7 years

Text

Heart of Gold - Jaime Lannister

Jaime Lannister didn’t know how to properly win over the right girl’s heart and you didn’t know how you could love someone as much as you loved Jaime.

The soft knock on your door made you jump. You weren’t expecting anyone, especially this late in the evening. Setting your book down on the table, you stood from your chair. The shawl around your shoulders fell to the side as you walked over to the door. You didn’t pay any mind to it, being caught up with who could be waiting at your door.

“Who’s there,” you called out, getting closer to the door. A shuffling could be heard behind your door and you swallowed hard. Nervousness flooded over, sending your heart into a flutter. Your years in King’s Landing had made you weary. Another moment of silence passed until you got an answer.

“It’s Jaime,” you let out a sigh of relief. Gently opening the door, your eyes landed on the Lannister man. It felt like ages since you had seen him. You longed to be in his arms once more.

“Come in,” you said, pulling him gently by the arm. Once he was inside, you shut the door and turned to face him. His eyes were tired, from the battle he fought in most likely. He wore a loose shirt, as if he hadn’t had the time to dress properly. It only made him look more attractive. His bulky armor hid his body too much for your liking. “When did you return?” you asked softly.

“Around an hour ago,” Jaime said with a soft smile on his features. His green eyes were bright when they met your gaze. “I just couldn’t wait to see you,” he added, taking a step towards you. He was standing before you with one long stride. Jaime’s hands rested on your hips, pulling your body flush with your own. He leaned his head close to yours to whisper in your ear, “I missed you, darling. Everyday when the sun came up and set on the coast.”

“I missed you as well,” you said, looking into Jaime’s eyes. You knew you couldn’t match the sentiment in his words. As much as he denied it, Jaime was a helpless romantic. Each time he returned from his travels and wars, he made sure to always come right to you.

“Tell me how much,” Jaime hummed and you let out a small laugh. The Lannister smiled down at you, moving one of his hands to cover your shoulders again with your shawl. “Are you cold?” You smiled at his concern.

“Only a little,” but your words came too late. Jaime was already walking over to the fireplace, adding more wood to the barely lit embers. “You don’t have to do that,” you said, walking over to where he was crouched down. He looked up at you with an eyebrow raised, eyeing your shawl. Looking back to the fire, or lack thereof, Jaime coaxed warm flames to rise up. The light bathed the room in an orange glow.

“I do have to,” Jaime said, standing up beside you. “My Lady is chilled and I wish to provide her with warmth.” He wrapped an arm around your waist then, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You closed your eyes at the touch, savoring the fact you beloved was with you once more. He was gone far too often for your liking.

“There are other ways to create warmth,” you teased and Jaime smiled down at you. At first, you were surprised he didn’t counter with an equally flirty response. Then you saw what was hidden behind that smile: a darkness. Something had happened while he was away. You didn’t dare question it, knowing Jaime wouldn’t say anything. He had a habit of hiding his more sensitive thoughts and feelings about his family, himself included.

“Why don’t we go to bed? Get some rest to battle whatever tomorrow brings to our door.” It would be better to wait for him to tell you what was bothering him, or what he saw; or what he did. He would tell you with time but first he would need to rest.

“I do like the sound of that,” Jaime said tiredly. You felt his fingers intertwine with yours, giving your hand a light squeeze. You both walked over to your large bed. Folding the covers to the side, you crawled underneath the soft sheets and Jaime soon followed.

Once he was comfortable on his back, you scooted closer to Jaime’s side. His body heat emanated from him as warm as the fire he lit in the hearth. Jaime smiled tiredly at you, moving so he could pull you to him. His long blond hair was already messed from the pillow and moving about; but his hair was far from this Lannister’s thoughts.

He pulled you to his chest, letting your head rest on his shoulder. One of your arms wrapped around his torso, trying to hold on to his large frame. With one of his hands trailing through your hair, Jaime looked down at you. You looked so about as tired as he felt, with small, dark circles forming under your eyes. Yet you still were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

He could still remember the moment he laid his eyes on you. You were defending an older man from one of the members of the City Watch. Jaime heard your yelling before he saw you; and you were a sight to behold. You were standing your ground, after helping the poor man up, and chazied the watchman.

“He meant no harm,” you had hissed, “if your King wants you hurting old men and children he is no King of mine.” Your words had been near treasonous, but Jaime stepped in before the situation had escalated. You still gave him a hard time, even if he did save your skin.

“I don’t need saving Ser Jaime,” you had said. He noted that you never once called him Kingslayer. Perhaps the Mad King was no King of yours after all. “Thank you, but I can handle myself.” Jaime smiled at the memory, looking down at where you were now; lying on his chest, half asleep. After your first encounter with him, Jaime made it a routine of his patrols to stop at that spot. You were always there reading or talking to one of the small folk.

“You’re staring at me,” you mumbled, breaking Jaime from his reverie. He let out a chuckle at your words. You looked up at him with a lazily smile on your lips. “I always know when you’re staring at me.” That was a truth.

He’d stare at you on those long days, while you read in your spot near the old fountain. You one day called him out on it and that was the day Jaime knew he had to have you. Tywin gave him flack for wishing to marry a lowborn girl, but Jaime went to do it anyway. He spent so much time, so much gold, trying to win your affections. It was only when you saw Jaime help a lost child find his mother when you showed any interest in him at all.

“You’re Kingsguard,” you had said, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. A young lad needs his mother. And I’m Kingsguard no longer.” That night, you both had ended up learning more about each other. Jaime talked of his late mother for the first time in years and you told him about your own family. He explained why you were the reason he left the Kingsguard.

“I didn’t want to break my oath anymore than I already have,” he had said. You had only smiled, but his words made your heart flutter. That was also the night you allowed him to officially court you; and years later, it brought you to your shared bed.

“I was thinking about when we first met,” Jaime said softly. He trailed his fingers over the soft skin of your arm. Your shawl had fallen once more, exposing the skin. You smiled at the thought, going over the memory yourself.

“You were so foolish,” you said with a grin. Jaime feigned hurt, resting his other hand against his chest. You smiled at his action, moving to look into his eyes better. You were now almost sitting up, leaning against his arm.

“Foolish? You were the one going against every one of my attempts at courtship.”

“You were the one who thought you could buy me with all the Lannister gold in your pocket.” You smiled smugly at your husband, knowing you had won the argument.

“Says Y/N Lannister,” he teased, “you eventually fell for my charms.” You rolled your eyes at his words, leaning close to his face so you could taunt him with your lips.

“After I saw your compassion,” you whispered. “After I saw your heart, that’s when I fell for you. That day you helped that little boy find his mother again.” You gave in to your own need and pecked his lips softly. Jaime remained quiet, sensing you still had more to say. “You have a good heart, Jaime. It’s buried sure,” you said with a light heart smile. Jaime let out an amused huff before you continued. “But you’re heart is good. No battlefield can change that, no matter your kill count. I love you and your heart of gold.”

“So it was Lannister gold that won you over,” Jaime said, without missing a second. You let out a groan and moved away from him. Jaime let out a chuckle before moving closer to you. He leaned over you, his chest pressing lightly against yours. With you pinned beneath him, you looked smaller than normal. Jaime’s gaze softened at the sight of you.

“All jokes aside,” he whispered, leaning down to get closer to you. “I love you too,” he pressed a slow kiss to your lips. You hummed at the contact, wishing you both weren’t so tired. His nose brushed gently against yours as he moved to press a kiss to your cheek. “You’ll always have a spot in my golden heart.” You smiled, one of your hands moving to his hair. The long strands had fallen over his face, until your brushed them aside.

“Good,” you whispered, “because that’s where I want to be.” Jaime’s lips turned up in a loving smile before he pressed them against your lips once more. You couldn’t remember how you had passed the day before you felt Jaime’s touch, or heard his heart beat soundly in his chest.

Now you couldn’t sleep without hearing the steady beat of his heart. You had never loved someone like this before, and perhaps that was alright. A love like yours could last through lifetimes.

#jaime lannister imagine #jaime lannister x reader #jaime lannister one shot #got imagine #game of thrones imagine #got #game of thrones #jaime lannister

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fullvoidmoon · 7 years

Text

Come Back

Pairing/s: Fili x human!reader

Setting/Timeline: A year after BoTFA, Durins live!AU

Warning(s)/Genre(s): Angst, with a little comedy

Word Count: 1,132

The Hobbit, the Durins, Bilbo Baggins, Any of the Company, Azog, Bolg, Mahal/Aulë, and the Valar © J.R.R. Tolkien Context © me

Requested by @deepestfirefun

A/N: I’m so sorry that this fanfic turned out to be too long than I thought when I was drafting this, so I will have to divide this into two parts.

The Hobbit tag list: @sdavid09, @igotanaddixon, @fizzy-custard, @life-is-righteous, @kittenwritesstuff, @fromthedeskoftheraven, @deepestfirefun

Masterlist: HERE

Part 2 - Here to Stay

“Those eyes...”

The Crown Prince of Erebor would never imagine seeing those eyes again. The same eyes that brought immense joy and perilous pain to his heart and soul; the eyes that vividly remind him of the love that was found, the love that was lost in that fateful but cursed battle.

And the love that will forever break his very being, but will continue to mend it back for him to keep on living.

“.... amrâlimê?”

But something tells the blonde prince that that same love was never truly lost upon seeing the wolf they’ve been looking for and hunting down.

-----

“First, you suggested hunting it down-”

“Uncle is going to have a fit,” Kili cackles, trying hard not to be obvious.

Fili, while having a hard time making a straight face, couldn’t help but give out a sigh, “thank you for stating the obvious.”

“-now you are telling me that we should keep it?!” Thorin bellows as he looks at his older nephew, clearly in a state of disbelief in the situation.

One of the things Fili doesn’t want is for him to make mistakes, especially now that he is truly the Crown Prince. But never would he expect that the wolf they’ve been hunting down for days is actually a pure softy, without admitting it to anyone but himself that the wolf reminds him of his (Y/N).

‘It’s like she was resurrected to live her life again after the day I lost her.’ Fili thinks as he remembers how the she-wolf nuzzled up against him the other day, ‘just like how (Y/N) would give me warmth when she was still with me.’

Thus his current predicament to persuade Thorin to keep the wolf and let it live in Erebor.

"She can certainly be a sort of additional protection to us and to the kingdom,” Fili exclaims, apparently becoming desperate for Thorin to allow him to keep the wolf, “she proved herself she can protect us when we were suddenly surrounded by orcs on the way back.”

“It is true Your Majesty. I was there with Kili when we arrived with reinforcements as the orcs swarmed in,” adds Balin as he tries not to laugh at his younger brother, who is currently being treated like a puppy bed by the said wolf, “and we would’ve never expected for the she-wolf to be such a sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart or not, if this wolf lassie goin’ to live here let it stay in the lad’s chamber,” Dwalin looks at Fili, his accent becoming thicker as the wolf continues to lay comfortably on him, “I don’t want to be her official bed!”

“Why does the she-wolf reminds me of (Y/N)?” Bofur suddenly asks, who seems to just pass by the library and hears all the commotion, “I clearly remember the lassie likes to lie down on Dwalin just for fun.”

The resemblance clearly doesn’t escape Thorin as he watches the said wolf, bigger than any wolf they’ve ever seen and clearly not an ordinary one, lying on top of his best friend and captain of the guard.

And with contentment and good humor in him for seeing Dwalin in an uncomfortable state, surely a rare occurrence to behold and to keep as a reference in case the titanium wall of a dwarf needs some bribing in the future, Thorin decides for the she-wolf to be accepted in the halls of Erebor and be the kingdom’s “guard dog”.

-----

“You have to go, now!”

She shouldn’t have come here.

“No (Y/N), I will stay with you.”

She shouldn’t have been here.

“This is a trap, Fili. Bolg and the rest of the Gundabad Orcs are coming here from further north,” (Y/N) said as she tried to pull both Kili and I away from where we stood, “you will be surrounded before it’s too late.”

“Then you have to come with us,” Kili interjected, clearly alarmed and worried with the news, “we have to warn uncle and Dwalin about it!”

(Y/N) could only shake her head as she tried her might to pull us away and hid us from the enemies’ views. “Bilbo and I took different ways when we arrived here. He’s currently with Thorin and Dwalin by now to warn them.”

She is obviously terrified, never could she have expected for something like this to happen. But as I tried to force her to calm down and go with us she suddenly pushed my brother and I towards a path that lead to where uncle, Dwalin, and Bilbo were.

Suddenly there were orcs coming from almost all directions.

“I’ll distract them, you two just go ahead,” (Y/N) exclaimed, her twin swords at the ready, “I’ll catch up with you.”

And that was the last time I saw the courage and determination in her visage, one of many reasons why I fell in love with her.

For the next moment I saw her is in the hands of the Defiler, the blade in replacement of its lost arm pierced in her chest.

“May the Line of Durin perish,” Azog said in his black tongue, sneering down on us, “and may it start by the death of this woman.”

-----

A good night’s sleep is now a foreign word to Fili ever since that cursed day, as guilt and self-pity took hold of his heart as days pass by, reminding him that his beloved died for him.

And he couldn’t do anything to save her.

“I love you, my lion prince,” (Y/N) said as the blade drove through her, “and I will always love you.”

And dreaming of her in the Defiler’s hands, a dream that always haunts him every night, makes his grief even worse. Even the comfort that the she-wolf gives him since having its first night in Erebor does not help him in anyway.

“(Y/N), my princess, please...” Fili whispered, grief slowly becomes too strong for him to take, “...please come back to me.”

A dream that only makes him wish harder to Mahal, to any Valar that might take pity on his plight, for his One to come back in his arms once again.

Then he hears it, a voice that he never had the chance to hear after that day but is surely never forgotten; the voice that he wishes to hear every day and every night, the voice that never fails to have butterflies in his stomach and makes his knees weak.

“Fili...”

The voice that causes chills run down his spine whenever it calls his name.

And Fili couldn’t help but turn his azure gaze to the she-wolf that lies on the foot of his bed, its (e/c) that reminds him of his fallen One becoming more apparent as if it is the one calling out to him.

“...my lion prince.”

#the hobbit #the hobbit x reader #fili #fili x reader #durins live!au #FVMfanfics #FVM fics #FVM fili fanfics

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imaginaryculturepress-blog · 7 years

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TFTP: Alice Cooper in Perth, WA

In which I lose my photo pass, and Alice Cooper rocks out Perth Arena.

Hi, hello, and welcome!

My name is Skyler and my cause of death will probably include birds. The ibises are seriously out to get me. Speaking of dramatic deaths and questionable phobias, Alice Cooper recently (not really - it's been almost a month) captivated and massacred the hearts of his Perth fans, even going so far as to behead himself onstage. Oh, what an evening it was. After Placebo cancelled their Perth show, I was left seeking another arena gig to call "the largest concert I've ever photographed". It took a while, constantly refreshing emails and waiting for replies that would never arrive, though finally, after over a month, some luck: through the wonderful staff at Revolutions Per Minute, I managed to obtain a photo and review pass to Alice Cooper at Perth Arena. And, as always, one hell of a drama ensued. But before we begin, this disclaimer is definitely required: Please be advised that I am not attempting to blame Revelations Per Minute, TEG Live, or any of their staff for the issues that occurred at this show. Whilst the choice to minimise the photographer list was at the discretion of event management, I'm sure they had a justifiable explanation behind it, thus I fully understand and accept their decisions. Note that any and all complaints listed below are aimed at me and I am only making fun of myself; I am not indirectly blaming or judging the aforementioned parties. We're here for a good time, so laugh at my luck - or lack thereof – and direct any negativity towards… uhm… okay yep direct any anger towards Camera House and Supposed Manager. Thank you kindly. Less than a week later, we were off to see Alice. I’m inclined to say Alice in Wonderland. At some point between receiving the passes and the event itself, however, there seemed to be a miscommunication: an email – and later a follow-up – were apparently sent out from RPM, stating that management decided to reduce the amount of photographers on the photography list. Problem was, I only received said emails well after the concert actually occurred. So I blindly went to the AC show, completely unaware of the troubles that lay ahead. After a short train trip and a Grill’d (sponsor me) stopover, we found ourselves passing hundreds of AC fans on our way to the Arena. Most were heading towards pubs, beginning their pre-drinking shenanigans, though you could find a couple non-alcoholics in the area. But they were all aged eight or under so they don’t really count. At the box office – which was thankfully open for once – a young woman assisted us in gaining our tickets. Except… “You’re not on the photographer list.” Hahahaha yeah. Good one. “Ma’am…” Don’t “ma’am” me… “You’re not on this list.” “That’s impossible.” Though then again, knowing my luck – or lack thereof – anything was possible; I wouldn’t be surprised if Hitler sprung out of the ground and beheaded my dog with his teeth, spitting its dismantled body at Trump’s face. It wouldn’t be unusual for Adolf to then rip off one of the Maltese’s balls and supplement it for his missing one, or to have my best lens run over by stampede of oxen the middle of the CBD; and it certainly wouldn’t be shocking if Supposed Manager led the oxen (or Hitler, for that matter). However, the allegation still stunned me. More so, it frightened me; despite my limited experience with large shows, I knew as well as the next person how fluid the industry was. But I had no clue as to why I wasn’t on the list. Perhaps there was a simple miscommunication? Surely. It would be fixed within minutes, right? No stress? …Right? She went to check with someone else, Ticketek’s own Supposed Manager. Though, to be fair, their version was far kinder and of far more assistance. Bonus: she didn’t sigh with every sentence! So let’s call her the actual manager – even if she wasn’t. Actual Manager: Hi. Hello. What seems to be the issue? Me to myself: Well, for one, you’re using my line… most of it, anyway… All right, perhaps her first impressions weren’t the sightliest. Me: I was supposed to be on the photographer list for this event, however I’m… not…? Actual Manager: Ah, okay… let me just check one more time. I’ll spare us both some time by skipping their frantic dashes to and fro the room. T’was a simple conclusion: I’d have no camera to shoot with. I’d have to cloak $1.5k worth of gear. Another photographer soon joined the queue, a lovely lady I’d seen at a couple other shows. Whilst they were sorting out her requests, I decided to ask her a thing or two – after all, she’s at all the large shows and knows what she’s doing. Me: *Awkward/weird/creepy introduction.* Her: *Doesn’t seem to find it as awkward, weird, or creepy as it was.* As stated in a previous post (With Confidence’s TFTP, I believe), I dislike disclosing conversations, no matter how generic they may be; if it’s personal or business-y, it won’t be publicised. However, if it’s a debate or quarrel regarding passes, lenses, or the like, then it’ll be on every platform the Internet has ever hosted. With that said, our conversation wasn’t anything secretive but I’ll call it common courtesy to not write it out in length. She did mention, though, that: 1. Photographers meet outside the venue before each set to be led into the pit, and that I could join if I wanted to talk to fancy people about my issue; and: 2. She had over ten grand of gear in her backpack. The professionalism made me quiver; I was in the presence of a music photography god. (And sentences like that, my friends, are why nobody ever talks to me for a second time). So that's what I'd do; I'd cloak my gear, retrieve it after the Strangers' set - for they didn't allow photography whatsoever - and meet up with the crew prior to Ace Frehley's performance. But before any of that could happen, I had yet another line to join. There were some... interesting... people: the guy with better hair than I could ever dream of, the SFX queens, otherwise well-dressed and well-presented people, the alcoholics, the seventy-year-old women already dying of fangirl feels, and naïve kids with metalhead parents. Then there was me, your socially-challenged fifteen-year-old tirelessly pleading for a pristine sponsorship from the snazziest companies around, and whose entire persona revolved around her denim jacket and the camera gear that lay in her Lowepro backpack. I sensed pity from every direction, the sort of pity you'd expect Shane Dawson to have received at age ten. Not fun. But t'was the same reaction I got from every public encounter so I was rather immune to it. Rather. The bag checks soon followed. It would've be difficult to explain why I had relatively professional camera gear covering every inch of my bag, since I had no photo pass to delight their gazes with, however the employees were understanding and had no issues letting me through. Hallelujah. Up next: metal detectors. Every time I stepped forth to one of those things, the security guards scan me at least three times. And I get it; I've got a concerning facial expression and seem pretty damn shady. But I'm not smuggling anything illegal (besides camera gear) into the venue, so chill the fuck out. Furthermore, stop looking so shocked when you find nothing illicit on me! Jebem vam mater bezobraznu... Don't google that. Soon enough we went through the ticket scans and headed for our seats. But before we could do that, we had to stop over at a few places, the first of which was the cloaking facility. The woman was extremely kind, especially considering what I put her through: Me: *Handing backpack over* Here you go. Me: Oh, wait, I need that... Me: Yep, okay. Me: Wait nope, I'll need that too... Me: All good. Five minutes later... Me: Shit, I forgot my glasses... Me: Yes, yes - no hold up I need my earplugs. Me: Please don't kill me. Our second destination was the merch table, at which I had a mini heart attack. $100 for one vinyl? One? I could purchase the red variant online for $45 - including shipping! They did, however, offer patches. And knowing me and my denim jacket, I had to invest a few dollars. And by "few" I mean fifteen painful bucks. All that was left for me to do was to pester the cloak lady once more before locating my seat. This was my first official reviewer pass and I didn't know what to expect; our tickets would probably provide a satisfactory view of the stage, there would be three too many miscommunications, and I'd get lost trying to find the merch table. Thankfully, none of this happened; we received outstanding seats, the only miscommunication regarded the photo pass, and the merch areas were easier to locate than most of my classes. We were in the fourth row from the front, nearly centred. I didn't feel worthy of it, especially since this review is being published almost a month after the event (I can explain), though I wan't about to waste this opportunity due to my self-proclaimed lack of entitlement. So after taking a long moment to fangirl ruthlessly and carelessly run into a few people (I'm truly sorry), we impatiently anticipated The Strangers. And that's when the phone photography began. Look, it's been a while since I've used a mobile to cover an entire set. I've grown too close to my cheap DLSR and pricey lenses, and this was a downgrade like no other. So let's all poke fun at my horrendous attempt at concert photography! Did I mention that these images are set to be painful? Yeah. You've probably noticed. My phone photography game isn't up to scratch; it's not even existent. The lads delivered quite the set, though the audience seemed rather... dead. Don't get me wrong; their music and stage presence was exquisite. But the Arena was still filling in, and those present didn't show enough support. PSA: When a band plays a song, your only excuse not to clap is if you're holding either a baby or camera gear. An no, phones do not constitute as concert gear. You show the guys some respect, for they were playing the largest show of their careers. At least have the decency to slap your goddamn palms against each other. So for fuck's sake, even if you've heard better artists or aren't a huge fan, either pretend to care, or leave. There's no third option. This applies to my mother as well. I see you. Support acts need more support. Especially guys like this. If they're ever in town again, I'd love to shoot their gigs. I genuinely enjoy their music. Intermission. Time to go find the group of photographers. I'll cut to the chase: I wasn't getting into that photo pit and would have to continue my life with a reviewer pass. It's not that I'm complaining, it's just... well, yeah, I'm complaining. When it comes to music, I consider myself more of a photographer than a writer. I see myself as more of a writer than photographer in general life, though in terms of music I'm more of a photographer. I believe the managers minimised the lesser-known companies/blogs/etcetera from their list, which is understandable; they'd rather have the larger ones shooting their gigs. However, the photo pit contained six people. Six. SOTA's contained an excess of twenty. So there really was no use of shortening a list of what, fifteen-ish? It's harmful for your up and coming photographers, especially since we hype up the matter so much. So let's try something out: on average, this blog receives an excess of sixty reads per article, which is more than you and I both expected. Quite frankly, I appreciate those statistics immensely. That's a considerable amount of people bothering to click on these things - even if they do so accidentally. But let's try to improve those numbers. For this article, I want to see the most positive results we've ever received. I know it's almost impossible, though I just want to prove that minuscule, upcoming blogs influence readers. So let's go - comment something down below, share this around the web, and don't leave me in that awkward scenario of not having anyone give a fuck. Make my hours of procrastination worth it! C'mon, please. I'm desperate. Regardless, I trekked back to my seat in the lovely fourth row, belittled and slightly dead inside. Ace Frehley had already commenced his set and was quick to change my mood; within minutes I'd gone from "fuck off, I hate everyone" to "FUCK YAAAASSSS!!!! AAACEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!" I'm asexual so that contributed to my excitement. Because, you know, publicly outing yourself at a high volume is fun, especially when people don't realise you're outing yourself. But I digress... Ace is one of those dudes that take you back to a time before your years, a place somewhere in a carefree land where you're rocking out to his songs whilst driving down some dusty highway in the middle of some random American state (one with lots of red sand and dusty highways - oh wait, that perfectly describes every Australian highway... Sponsor me, WA). He raises your spirits, shreds the living daylights out of his guitars, and ensures everyone has a killer evening; all whilst appearing excessively blurry in each of these images. Intermission. The Arena was full, yet more people were somehow managing to squeeze in. The excitement was growing, everyone was tense and ready to scream their lungs out, when one dude noticed someone rather interesting... One Dude: Hey... is that David Gilmour? Technically, he whispered it to his partner. Ultimately, everyone within a six kilometre radius heard and was having a panic attack; the woman beside my mother was about to pass out. So, naturally, we all had the same question: WHERE?! One Dude pointed to a secluded area beside the stage. My mother thought she spotted him and began raging at my face: "OVER THERE, YOU BLIND FUCK!" (To be fair, she was far kinder than that.) Me: Well he hasn't aged gracefully, has he? The frantic exchanges continued throughout the following ten minutes, with everyone eyeing "that corner over there" with their phones at the ready. Fun fact: if I was in the photo pit at the time, I could've gotten within a one metre proximity of royalty. Another fun fact: he wasn't actually Gilmour. One Dude figured that out soon after. That'd explain the facial differences. The updated version of the story now ran: "SIR BOB FUCKING GELDOF IS IN THE BUILDING!" And do you think that changed the fangirls' excitement levels? Not one bit. For those of you still trying to figure out who David Gilmour is - and I hope that's not a lot of you - he was a member of the best classic rock band out there: Pink Floyd. Bob Geldof was closely linked, for despite not being in the band himself, he starred as Pink in the group's 1982 film, The Wall. At this point, half of us wanted Alice to take to the stage and the other half were contemplating how they were going to catch up to Geldof after the show. Their plans would have to be postponed, though, as the lights dimmed and we were summoned to spend the night with Alice Cooper. I don't understand why they decided to have a seated floor section; why couldn't we just have general admission? Because the older people would have issues? Mate, they were jumping around more than the guys at a Homebrand show! Yeah, creepy. They could've - and should've - begun crowdsurfing. That's one thing I want to see: a frail, heavily-aged grandmother riding on top of the audience with a determined expression as her mortified daughter stares at her and her grandchildren cheer her on. But we're not here to discuss grandmothers. It's Alice that we're [supposed to be] focusing on. From the moment he hit the stage, the sixty-nine-year-old was ready to rock. However, as I said, he's sixty-nine. Walking is an issue for a bloke of his age. As you can imagine, he had a few difficulties manoeuvring about the stage. There were moments where you could see him struggling, where you knew that the show wasn't supposed to be that way, where you could tell that there was some lacked energy. Regardless, everyone adored and motivated him, because that's what true fans do; he wasn't about to end his career, he loved what he was doing, and a few weak moments weren't about to wreck it all. So perhaps the dramatic acting element wasn't executed too well, though that doesn't mean the music parts were equal; each band member played dextrously and exquisitely, creating a profound atmosphere and one hell of a night. And yes, to answer your dying questions, there was a guillotine; how could there not be? The show was soon over and everyone was pleading for an encore. And they got it - but not the one they expected. As the band reached the stage for a second time, Alice roared: "Please welcome my friend... BOB GELDOF!"Everyone went insane. The entire Arena was cheering, applauding, and falling to the ground like Ms. F. There were streamers and other inexpensive though awesome party props flying around as Alice and Bob did a duet of School's Out and Another Brick in the Wall (Part II). It was genuinely one of the most memorable moments I'd ever witnessed. It was also far more affordable than purchasing tickets to Roger Waters. Before anyone had come to their senses, the show was over (for good), tears were filling peoples' eyes (for the eighth time), and those fangirl grandmothers were tackling each other for every handful of confetti they could g So that was that. Up next: WAMFest 2017, two rather odd days that saw me photograph at a church, hang out at a bar, and win a bet. Stay tuned. I left the Arena with the streamers around my neck mimicking a noose and hugged my lenses for longer than natural. The other train passengers kept giving me weird looks. MUSICAL SUMMARY: The Strangers: under appreciated/5 Ace Frehley: aaaaaceeeeeeee/5 Alice Cooper: ageing but still killing it (and himself)/5 Bob Geldof: the meaning of life/5

PHOTOGRAPHICAL SUMMARY: Lenses: Apple has never heard of f1.4, evidently/5 Lighting: pretty though useless/5Camera: *snivels* iT WAS A FUCKING iPHONE/5 (coincidentally an iPhone 5) Editing: never happened/5 My sanity: as dead as Google+/5 Check out the bands! Cooper doesn't have long left so get into him quickly: Alice Cooper Ace Frehley I couldn't find the Strangers' Facebook page, sorry. Live long and headbang, xx-Skyler Slate

#tftp

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gsmatthews95 · 6 years

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Thumbs up for serbia

Yo yo yo yo yo. What is up?? I am here in flesh but in writing on the blog as I forever immortalize my thoughts and conceptualise my memories in literature form for future generations and future me to revisit. So I left y'all on my butterz night bus to Belgrade last week. I finished writing mid journey, may I say the journey got all the more eventful. I couldn't sleep until the last two hours, great. 1 coffee at 6pm screwed me sadly, very bloody annoying. But yes after I left you we got to the border. Coincidentally I'd actually forgotten about this journey till I just revisited the last blog, so lucky I looked back. The border was long. A long night time border crossing in a bus? Shock. Never had one of those before. Probably some of my least pleasant experiences holidaying. They are always crap and stressful. This was no change. Firstly we waited on the Hungarian side for maybe 1.5-2 hours. I was wired the whole time cause of the coffee. Lucky I had an audiobook to help my sanity. Then the actual border. The Hungarians are apparently really strict on their borders I've been told. Something that was definitely not the case coming from Poland as I didn't even need my passport. This was the issue. My passport was in my big bag as I'd assumed (rationally given pur previous border crossings) I wouldn't need it and I didn't want the FAFF of having it on me. Mistake number 1. Someone said "use your drivers licence that'll work". It didn't work. I was sent back to the bus. I clambered into the hold to find my passport and had a border guard shouting at me in Hungarian. Cheers that'll help. The bus driver telling me I was holding the whole process up made me laugh given people were still getting their passports checked when I got there. Then an aggy look from the official as he begrudgingly let me thru. The next step of the farce. Getting back on the bus and giving the conductor pur passports. She, then having had them checked AGAIN brought them back, gave them back to people randomly. She couldn't say half the names and was left with like 5 at the end of unclaimed passports hmmmm. It was a fiasco. After that the journey was smooth to Belgrade where we continue our journey. Belgrade. A city steeped in history. A people so affected by war and strife. A culture so intertwined with that of its neighbours. Belgrade was a funny city. So parts were very grand, some were grey and grim from the communist era while others were of a more modern style. This was all testament to the rocky, turbulent history of Serbia. All of which we learnt on the free walking tour. Something I havent done in some time and our first in eastern Europe. I the guide was knowledgeable. He also like to talk. A lot. Lots of Information. May I pose a question of you? How much info is too much? Can there be too much? I think this may have been that occasion. It was a lot to take in but on our first day it was perfect to set the scene for this highly individual country. We enjoyed it greatly. But in the immortal words of Craig David re ee wind. When the crowd say no selecta. So I reverse. Our day began with the checking in at 6:30am urgh. Lucky we could do so but we had no bed so we slept on the sofas for 3 hours. Nice. To wake up in our new hostel. It was an odd one. Some very friendly nice people. But many... Different people. A few crazies and a few odd ones. The hostel was like a big apartment so it was cosy and sociable but like I say... Weird and a bit dirty. The day began though with a wander to the market where we saw people selling bits and bobs and some things you can only imagine they found in their attic or in a skip... No deal thank you. The greatest excitement from this journey however came as I found out how much the old Serbian men enjoy a game of chess. They love it. They'd all be crowded around a pair of players. Excitement in the air. Cursing. Cries of cheating. And jubilant smug grims when one had made a power move. With my recent redound love of chess I was engrossed. Safe to say Alina was not. I wanted to stay, to challenge these goliaths of the game to a match. It was intimidating and Alina may have killed me so I shrank away. Content with merely spectating this spectacle. To our surprise and joy this became commonly found throughout belgrade as these testosterone fuelled beasts fed their egos through brain straining sport. Immense viewing. Another little tit bit. You can buy 2 litre plastic beer bottles in Serbia. A beautiful creation up there with sliced bread, the wheel, sky plus and tiki taka football. They were a staple of our time in Belgrade and being so large you had to drink them fast before they got flat and warm. Fine mum I'll neck my beer. Our second day was buff. The sun was shining and we went to the beach. Huh? The beach? But Serbia land trapped? Some of our keen geographers may have been asking these questions. Very well done if you did, you get a cookie. However, being on two major rivers has allowed Belgrade to create an artificial stone beach. And being a stones throw from the city it is a perfect little get await. Ill be honest, it was busy. Still space to bathe tho and have a wee dip in the water. There were restaurants, bars, shops etc. We made do with our bread and dips tho. A good little day out and a chance to top up the tans, ideal. Our third day was uneventful as we took in the city and city and just vibed. Dont know what that means? Neither do I. I made it up. It was chill so we were all ready for our trip to nova varos and the countryside the next day. So you may have realised as keen readers that we have spent much time in big cities. We have. And we wanted to get out so we sent to brdo in nova varos in west Serbia. Off the beaten track so as to speak. This consequentially, is where I have been writing from although we are now in the bus to Bosnia woohoo. Edin dzeko here we come. Nova varos is tiny. A skiing town in winter and a chilled hiking town in summer kind of. We have been in the wilderness staying in a cheap home stay with a lovely woman who didn't have a word of English. It was very enjoyable. We wandered around towns and to a monestry In the mountains. It was very atmospheric and like I say, nice to get out of the cities. Yesterday was the day we saw a river. The uvac river. The home to the 3m griffin vulture. Ooooo. Wow. Big bird. There were also tonnes of eagles gliding around. They were all sick. The tour had us two and a polish couple and consisted of floating down the river as it meandered through the high up mountains. To describe this river it looked like your cliché geography GCSE meandering river as it swerved back and forth through these mountains. Buff. A very picturesque area that can only really be appreciated from up heigh. So we climbed. There was a platform maybe 200-300 metres up (it was hard to work out through the guides very disjointed english.). It was a hot climb as the temperature rose and the sun came out. 20-30 mins later we were there. Wow. What a view. AND we have the pictures to prove it ahahah. It was lush. We had a beer (a homebrew we think) at the top and then wandered down for the rip to the cave. It was a big cave. Very big. It was also very cold. Nicknamed the ice cave. Why? Two reasons we think. Maybe cause it was so cold. Or maybe cause of the vast numbers of stalagmites and stalactites all over the cave. They were very impressive even if we still can't work out which is which. This brought the end of the cruise as we sauntered home in the boat, a good little day out only marred by the scenes that morning. God that was a FAFF. We had decided to go the day before. Were told the time and price. Perfect. The man came the next morning and shock, the price had changed. There were taxi charges, entrance fees, another price because other people had pulled our of coming. Hmmm. I dont believe you. This whole encounter was made all the more tricky by his speaking no English. He spoke to a lady in Serbian. She translated to alina in German and she translated to me in English. Like a giant game of Chinese whispers. Long and stressful. After deliberation we went for it. Annoyed but it still wasn't expensive. Just like having a slight sour taste in your mouth. So you may be questioning the title. Bit weird. Is it relevant or has this kid just lost his imagination. It was actually alinas first contribution to this beautiful blog something she has been craving since the blogs glorious rebirth. So yes the last few days in nova varos have marked our reignited love for hitchhiking. Having only done it sporadically when I was 18 to 20 its something I'm glad to be doing again. Everyone here is very friendly and usually more than willing to pick us up. Since we've started there's only been one journey we had to walk having done it 6 times in the last few days with the most recent coming from a taxi driver as he said no. Stopped 10 metres up the road and reversed to let us in. Good lad. Like I say its been fin, saved us time and money even if we cannot communicate with anyone as none of them speak any English. Just lots of waving hands forwards and repeating the destination we need. A successful start in our eyes. The funniest was as we were stood on the side of the road hailing down anyone we could and a big Porsche zoomed towards us. We saw. Stuck our thumbs up. Hoped. Prayed. He speeds at us. We have little confidence with his speed. No signs of slowing down. He's past us. F off mate we think. I fume "of course he didn't stop, no one in a Porsche will ever stop". We look over. He's stopped. What's happened? Has he hit a child? No he'd found his conscience. He reversed and let us in. What a man. What a car. It was really comfy and spacious. We enjoyed it. But yes this is now a new chapter in our lives. The chapter of free lifts and hitching. Yay. Enjoyable. Here's to lots more. Anyhow I've rambled for ages and my fingers hurt. Writing this on my tiny crap phone is long. But for you guys I'd do anything. Love y'all. I'll be back in like four days. We won't be in Bosnia too long. Ciao (Thats bye in Serbian). G

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