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blankdblank · 3 years

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Hobbit Soulmate Pt 43

4.28 million, check in hand Richard was on his way to the bank and certain of what to do the cash was split, deposited with the rest used to pay off the remainder of the funds owed on the new home. A small portion and mostly repaid soon enough by the funds wired to his account from the couple who bought his old home. All those memories of Tiffany and years alone struggling between parts now replaced by hope imbued into the walls of the new home that you would build a family inside of. No matter how the year was split between your homes and trips to the ranch he knew your children would not want for any affections or adoration and soon have a cousin to one day play with.

He had to be careful though as daydreams would often lead to his smiling return from work already hearing echoes of the future babies rushing to greet him while you hummed making some intriguing mixture for the meal you and your youngest still propped on your hip we’re whipping up one handed for him. Daydreams were always bittersweet but precious all the same while he felt lighter than he had in decades. He wanted to be there for your show, knowing how hard Chicago had been on you, yet thankfully before Kong this was just a single show that he would be able to purchase a copy of to keep and watch at his leisure, one day with those same one day to not be imaginary babies.

They would beam with pride seeing how he adored you and the success and strength you had in just your little finger using your resolute love as their example. So very much how he saw his own parents, a love he’d never dreamed capable of possessing and passing down to his babies. You would get there, if not for the patience of the ficklest of mistresses, time. For now he had his dreams of you, one in particular of the first night you would share in his bed inside your new bedroom. One he’d share with only you upon your arrival. Not even a diary he’d entrust with the sweetest of murmurs he’d trace through your hair while you slept. Secured by the gentlest of kisses to your cheek and temple until they were broken by that beloved groggy smirk and turn over to foil the last half of his ocean of endearments and proclamations of his undying love he’d yet to bestow upon you.

Sharp and loud a shriek had left your lips and behind the door you’d just closed the delivery man turned around and knocked on your door again, “You okay Miss?”

Opening the door you smiled hastily replying, “Yes, sorry. News from work.”

“You’re not laid off are you?” He asked on a pained tone.

“No, paycheck I’ve been waiting on.”

“Oh that’s a relief,” he sighed out, “Been the bearer of bad news all week.” Retreating again to head back down to his waiting car.

Your neighbor opened the door poking his head out with spoon in mouth from his bowl of cereal making you say, “Sorry, paycheck.”

With his mouth half full he replied, “Oh that’s good, got a child support summons last week myself. Don’t know who Charles A. Sullivan is but he owes 67 grand in back child support.” Inside he went to your chuckle filled mutual retreat back to your apartments.

From his own doorway your dad leaned out smirking as you anxiously smiled waving the pages, “Got paid,”

Out he stepped to accept the papers he knew you were going to try to give him and his eyes flinched wider seeing the figure on the page. “This says 4.28, million, dollars.” His eyes flinched up to yours again, “This is from Bard?”

You nodded, “That’s my cut of the box office. Yours is behind mine.”

He turned the page and exhaled having to sit on the stool behind him eyeing the $3 million check he’d gotten from his smaller albeit hefty percentage as one of the main stars of the film not expected to do much as far as earnings went. “I have, I can’t have this much money, I had, what, five lines.”

You shrugged saying, “They didn’t expect much or we might not have gotten that much. Now you can retire,” you squeaked out anxiously still trying to remain calm leaning back against the wall across from him half in the kitchen you’d been prepping breakfast before the fated knock.

Curtly he chortled and rumbled back, “Damn right I could.” Long and slow he let out a breath saying, “I certainly could.” Quietly you got back to making the meal that you shared and then made another trip to the bank. The same tellers were much happier to see you both again, a moment the manager there was a bit taken aback by the amount on the checks from the same film company from before. A fact that stirred up a conversation between them in your leaving on how actors might actually get paid after you’d shared most of your roles didn’t pay till they were out of theaters and it could be a huge gap between filming and its release. All of which making them a bit more grateful for their stable paychecks and slightly dull jobs to being big movie stars.

It was beyond odd to be heading back to ballet rehearsals. With hair wound back in a braided curl happy bun at the loss of half of your bobby pins somehow and in a halter style leotard underneath knee length sweats you pulled a flannel and your leather jacket on over it shouldering your bag to head out for your unusual trip to the elite ballet company. Mingled through the crowds quite easily the trip was managed and all the way up to and inside the front doors you held your cool facade. But once those doors shut the aloof grin on your face stiffened to a stoic expression under the weight of the many staring eyes in the building of Grecian statues of men and waifs galore with feet stuck awkwardly out like geese in between. All whom watched your tiny out of place self strolling right through the gaps between their groups to follow the directions your Professor had given you.

From the lift however the mood didn’t change. And right at home you found your way into the designated room strolling right to the wall of cubbies. There jacket, flannel and converse were folded inside with socks next rolled up containing your subtly removed engagement ring that you shoved inside your bag’s hidden inner pocket you’d added yourself for all your expensive things in case someone got nosy while you worked. Your new ballet slippers were pulled out and once the bag was added to the stack in the cubby to the bars you went to pretend you had to already been warming up at home to keep your mind distracted until the others arrived.

They certainly weren’t yelling. But when the crowds did start to arrive the Director commented and watched while you chatted with five of your former dance classmates from Julliard and one from Oxford. Back at the bars to fill the main ballet cast around the mainly vocal and acting supporting cast members in the sea of silently stretching and gossiping extras waiting to hear their first assigned steps for the opening number. You could all hear one say, “I can’t believe she permed her hair before coming here. I’m gonna make that girl sweat out those curls.”

The bile in their voice caught by more than just you and turned more than half of the heads in the room of dancers, mainly those of the dancers of color, who took up at least half of the cast with similar curly hair or even tighter curls than yours, to see which Director to avoid speaking to unless necessary. Behind him however Mr Tarl strolled past him saying, “Good luck with that those are her natural curls dickhead.”

Into the room he came while the Director scoffed and said he’d be back later leaving his partner that was wide eyed catching all the cast glaring at the leaving man’s back. “Alrighty, I see we’re all here so let’s get right into it.” He said and waved you forward, “Ariel and Flounder.” Nodding in your pop up onto your feet across the room you hurried to the young teen’s side to hear your intro while those playing your on stage relatives and Sebastian gathered next to hear theirs mingled with the majority of extras. The male cast around Prince Eric on the ship would open the show, however markers for the transition had to be gives first before you were moved aside to watch them and wait, you would blend in on the background and then fade out of the floor to the side to wait again. Ariel’s sisters and Sebastian would come next before you would come again with Flounder and Scuttle.

While some might have worried you got the least attention it was clearly shown to not be needed as you took right away to what he seemed to want going through the day with little alterations from the first try of the steps. Something the pair of Directors were floored by and took notice of your classmates that seemed to have a knack for that as well having been so used to his style of teaching. For waves most of the ballet would be those leaping with ribbons with ebbs and flows in deep sways and off kilter moves added by the ship crew who would rock to the imagined shift of the fake boat they were on between leaps from mark to mark for their roles in ship tasks. A tape playing of the music helped to give hints to the songs you had all been given copies of days prior gave a simple idea of the flow of the show you were not singing just yet to rest your voices until the vocal rehearsals.

It wasn’t that hard of a set of steps. Even to the tap dancing number you had with the seagulls after being turned human. However the struggle came from what restrictions the costumes would give at having to do a lot of upper body movements and smooth arches with your joined legs in the ample lifts and team work steps around later what would include sections that you would be suspended by long blue ribbons of cloth to get the proper effects. Every other day the dance rehearsals would have you in vocal rehearsals while the extras would have theirs today and every day between yours.

One week bled into two and with the newer musical version of the film meant for Broadway the show took on a new life and proved to be easier than first described to you. The most free beginning with the transformation scene when your tail would be removed and the dancers circling you with colored cloths for the magic spell. They would give cover for the hand off of a sort of toga dress Sebastian would help tie the back up for you to hide the leotard the loose wrinkled fabric would be stitched to that would be eased over your mostly sheer top leotard with fake shells to cover your breasts that secured around the neck. They would carry off your tail skirt in their prance away leaving you in the faked moment of struggle to gain control of your new legs. Trailed by two steps and a collapse to be hoisted up by Flounder and Sebastian to get you onto the staircase to be brought in later acting as the path to the surface of the water.

Nights found you soaking your feet and eating what you could before early trips to bed to get some sleep to be ready for the cameras that the documentary team hired to film this could easily pick up on any hint of troubles you were having.

This wasn’t the first time your grandparents would have come to New York but this was big. You had paid 1.25 million into your house and had the other quarter left to drop when you were done with your apartment and around the breakfast table on the Saturday before the big show you had to mentally work out the times today all your appliances were coming you’d picked out three days prior. Washer, dryer and several fridges were coming and while you continued to paint the final upper floor walls their base color down to Lee’s walls he’d bought the shades he wanted leaving the cans inside the basement until you got through the rest of the house to help him paint there liking your skills at house painting.

All tasks helping to distract you from the tabloid fodder. You were the main topic, how well or terribly you were supposedly doing with assumed weight fluctuations from a so called terrible diet as if you weren’t taking full care to remain well fed and weren’t restricting yourself so for the normal body type for the stage. Someone else might have snapped and turned their heads in the store to read those titles alone but you never did ignoring any and everything except for an adorable magazine on puppies to help your dad pick a breed for the dog he’d wanted to get options on. Money always came next and with it came the topic of how much you were making the show was quick to shut down saying that everyone was volunteering their time for free and that was where it shifted for the start of the second week.

Drastically headlines seemed to shift to that news that broke while you were snapped in pictures through your open uncovered windows carrying more supplies up the stairs to head to the third floor where while the top floor walls dried you wanted to get started on the murals on the walls of the nursery. Patches of sorts like off a quilt to be lined with frames of stars and compasses and tiny treasure pathways and x’s were signature scenes from the children’s story to be painted in later while your dad and Lee got started painting his basement until the break for lunch when you would join them again.

Lunch was brought by the Landlord who smiled taking a tour seeing how it was all tying together, and gladly taking the task of guiding the delivery men down to the basement to install one fridge, stove, dishwasher and the washer and dryer so you could eat. Fridge oven and dishwasher were next for the main floor with two fridges and ovens heading up to the higher floors stirring curiosity to the cameramen below as to how many kitchens you were planning on having. All of this attention however seemed to only attract more as by Tuesday you had offers from several house renovation centered magazines requesting the first tour of the place when you had completed it.

“Thank you so much,” you said handing over the clipboard with sighed delivery sheet once all was installed properly from the now empty truck.

“Hell of a place you got here Miss Pear. Been a real pleasure to get a peek inside.”

Making you smirk at the head guys’s turn to join his crew back inside the truck to head back to the shop. “Thank you.”

Lee behind you smirked asking, “So, appliances, utilities and half of our stuff, um, what were we waiting on to move in again?”

To which your dad added, “Cable’s installed tomorrow along with the internet and home phone.”

Lee, “Plus cable tomorrow.”

Rolling your eyes you turned around saying, “Just hire the truck and crew to help move.”

“Yes!” Lee said turning to high five your widely smiling dad on the way back inside to get painting his apartment again.

“Guess you can buy that big screen too dad.” You said as the doors shut behind you.

“Already did, arriving tomorrow. Along with yours and Lee’s.” Earning a squeaking hug from the lanky body crashing into him out of excitement while you giggled at his proud smile for holding back more surprise gifts he’d planned weeks prior. Saving his hug for later when you could head to bed again dozing off next to him while he watched the shows playing on your staticky rabbit ear using tv for a sort of going away party for this place you never even got the chance to choose to move into in the first place.

Lost to thoughts on why should you really get the chance to pick when you wanted to move out you turned around to head inside. One more day of packing and hoisting everything up and down more flights of steps and that would be it. You could turn in the keys and pay off the brownstone to keep your word and Rich could mail his copy of the keys later. Very soon you’d have to go to sleep in a still halfway done home of your own and all you selfishly wanted was Richard to be done fake loving other women in England to be here and hoist you up in his arms for an oh so stereotypical picture of his carrying you over the threshold.

You supposed that could wait for the England home, this would just be yours for now and you could tolerate how badly you wanted to cry at the weight of it all while the duo moving in with you were oh so happy for this new beginning. Two huge checks and this tiny break once this show was over could be used to mull over whatever this slump would turn out to be to ready for that freeing sight of New Zealand that brought with it a whole new weight, another blockbuster smasher of a film with your face in the front of the poster right next to a giant ape.

You could do this, you kept repeating it over and over all while it felt like swallowing glass and coughing it up again into the shapes of chains of flowers at how somehow you still felt helpless and alone. You found out soon enough these thoughts were just a mental warning flag from your body something was coming as your stomach seemed to clench all of a sudden and you were off to the adorable guest bath under the stairs to hurl up everything you ate. Fever followed within moments and your dad was tucking you up in his arms to start the end of your night inside the ER. The Landlord took on the task of locking up swearing he’d take charge of helping Lee finish up his floor while you were being taken care of.

Your dad couldn’t care less about the show, merely wanting you to be better again, holding strong to ensure you weren’t going to be looked over and sent home without an answer. It was just a fever and nausea to them at first glance but something about this stirred up memories of his losing your mom like every time you had a fever before.

It wasn’t your appendix and you weren’t dehydrated and once laid flat didn’t feel the urge to throw up anymore. A blood pregnancy test came back negative in the time they waited for a body scan that showed you had an ovarian cyst that burst. You knew it was there, the lone little parasite now spontaneously exploded in its own little reaction to your internal turmoil no doubt as all you’d done was sign a clipboard and try to walk back to your basement apartment. Just in case ectopic pregnancy was ruled out.

And to the cameras outside you came walking out a few hours later just in time to get a warm hug from Lee while sharing what happened and how you were fine, if not a tad bit sore and amply tired and ready for bed. Once the house was all locked up again back to the apartment you walked where your dad to carry you up to yours seeing your energy had dwindled again fully at ease with making supper then curling around you all night. And on into the morning for a decided easy day of you gently helping Lee to finish painting while your dad handled the crew of delivery guys and the second that installed the cable throughout the house to the four floors set for it that mingled with their apparent friends from the internet and phone crew.

There would be a mounted phone in the kitchen with a voicemail attachment to go with two table top phones for your dad’s and in your private living room as your bedroom didn’t have the right outlet for it and Richard’s study would be his sanctuary and the ring might bother his thought process. To go with that the second outlet there would be used for where your laptop could sit that your dad could help to move your desk from your bedroom later. Each phone now with the number written on a slip under the clear slot under the receiver for the speed dial card mainly empty you could add to later.

The sick day, for your relief, pushed back the move day to have you at your peak past the show date. The next night to be exact, which Lee was readying for by boxing his stuff up already and focusing on small trips to the shop to pick out some spare small essentials he might want to decorate his new place he went ahead and left there using his key he smiled brightly every time he used it. Richard along with friends and family who called were calmed down leaving the latter to hope that this lost cyst might ease your monthly troubles in the future since its arrival and lone decision to make said monthly cycles dreadful for you.

Sunday passed however and Monday came again, to everyone once again staring all the way up to where you found Mr Tarl and Mr Combs who both asked, “Are you alright?”

“Ya, ovarian cyst burst. Doctor cleared me. I’ve stretched and danced a bit over yesterday doesn’t hurt till I try to get into a handstand for a cartwheel other than that I’m good.”

Mr Combs chuckled at your try to make them relax and said, “Just let us know if you need a break at any time.”

“Thank you.”

Over to your friends once you’d filled your cubby you walked saying, “Oh stop, had to drop in for my yearly hoof and horns maintenance.” Luring chuckles and grins from those around you who in school knew of a nickname from an instructor who called you a goat in your first week assuming limits on your skills who you proved wrong right away. “All good and polished now for the big show.”

“Did I push too hard on moving into the new place?” Lee asked you on your way up from just getting back again after the practice.

Turning your head you spotted him by the mailboxes answering, “Are you, is this about my cyst?”

“I’ve been pushing too hard. We’ve been painting non stop, appliance hunting in those warehouses and you’re trying to do the show and your grandparents are coming soon.”

“Lee,” you giggled out, “You didn’t make my cyst burst as much as I’ve been behind your appendix throwing its own tantrum.”

That had his grin easing out, “You’re sure this isn’t too fast?” he asked walking with you up the steps, “I mean you moved here on your own now I feel like I’m nudging you out of your bigger place.”

“I didn’t move in here.” You said making him pause and you looked up at him, “You remember? I went to Oxford and when I got back my things were moved into the bigger place that Mrs Henderson was moved out of. I want to move, it’s a fantastic place, but I wanted to be a bit selfish for at least a couple days with my daydreams.”

“Daydreams on what?”

“Call me selfish but I wanted to buy it and fix it up with Rich here too and to have him here for that first night in, but he won’t even see the place until October at the latest. Even my grandparents are going to see it before he does. I want to move in, it just, feels a bit, big. It’s a freaking house, five floors and I don’t even have a vacuum.”

That had him chuckle and move in to claim a calming hug from you, murmuring in a press of his cheek onto the top of your head, “We’ll go vacuum shopping tomorrow if you like.”

“I don’t even know what to look for in a vacuum.”

Pulling back he said resting his arm across your back, “Come on, let’s go see if your dad can answer that question. And if it makes you feel better you can carry me over the threshold.” That had you giggle through his own chuckle.

First fittings were today post dance practice before your vocal practice. Again just the dance had you close to wiped out and once the fitting was over at the vocal training you took up the offer of one of the wheeled stools to rest up some from the lingering discomfort you were feeling. Truly it wasn’t very painful compared to the exhausting rehearsals that now on top of this was tearing the wind from your sails but growing more tolerable with the end goal in sight. Added to the supplies a vacuum was brought to your new place and cross legged on the couch from Canada in your living room you sat having assembled said appliance watching the show your dad switched on for you seeing how tired you were.

There was just a little bit of work to be done to Lee’s apartment they assured you they could handle while you rested, both knowing you’d most likely nod off under the blanket he had laid across it after it was moved in. And sure enough when they broke for a meal they found you stretched out underneath that blanket lost in a deep much needed nap. And gently the hand smoothing over your back woke you helped you to be draped around your dad’s back for the walk to your apartment where the dinner in the crock pot was waiting for the three of you. Lee had seen you tired and nodding off before but this was something different and slowly he began to see just how rough this health speed bump had slammed you into the ground. At least you were bouncing back, that gave him some form of comfort while he watched you slip back to your usual self just in time for the big day.

Wednesday was the first try on the actual stage and Thursday Lee and your dad both stole two of the seats in the crowd of relatives of the other cast mates to see what you had pulled together in such a short time. The pair again awed by another impressive show you had chosen to be a part of. The same seats that the following day they both smiled seeing your Grandparents coming to join them once spotted with creeping grins at the intriguing take on the popular tale. Like always their presence was not missed. Proved by more than one dancer among the extras who perked up hoping to make a good impression all through to the end of the work day when you smiled.

An adjustment of a twist was given to your engagement ring that was freshly added again on your way from the locker room that enabled you to change from your leotard and sweats to a t shirt and shorts spotting your grandparents waiting there for you.

“Babushka, Babu.”

The pair of them both gave you tight hugs and your grandpa said gladly in Russian, “We missed you, precious Bubble.”

She asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Much better now, back to myself again.”

She asked, “And there were no more cysts?”

“No, just the one and I have an appointment when I get back from New Zealand to get scanned again to see if another grows or if it was just a one off.”

Your Grandpa asked, “Time to feed you.”

That had you smile and say, “I thought I might show you something first if you’re up for it.”

Your Grandma answered, “As long as we can take you to eat afterwards have to get your strength back up.”

Your dad smiled saying, “We could always order something when we get there.”

Grandpa looked between you asking in your turn to lad the way out, “There is food there?”

“Oh I think you’ll love it when you see it.” His question died however to his creeping grin at your arm looping under his and all the way from climbing into the car their driver opened for you to the address it pulled up on you could see their minds working to find out where you were taking them. The pair spoke to your dad while Lee listened to a message from one of the actors in his own play whose call he’d missed. The stop outside the brownstone however had them utterly baffled in the slide out of the car to join you on the curb. Your words however seemed to make it click for them, “I told you about that place I was looking at?”

That turned their heads and her lips parted taking in the whole building you gestured to, “This is the place?”

You nodded and asked, “Wanna see?” Their heads nodded and you giggled turning to show them inside. Once again your dad explained the outer gate on the stoop they approved of for spare security to the mudroom you left your bag inside of on the built in bench along the wall granting them a moment to prepare before you opened the front door and the full tour really began.

From the reading hideaway that turned out to be a bit awkward looking until you’d unpacked your books you’d bought in Canada filling a shelf at least gave a hint to one day being loaded with books that even they could adore the idea of for you. The half covered windows they mainly loved as, just like in your tour, still cast the place in a gorgeous glow, passing the steps to the living room you pointed to your chandelier saying, “Liv Tyler gifted me this chandelier, the old tenant hung stuff on his and it left this huge crater in the floor when it fell. And this place has these great beam arches and some of them are used for these half walls,” you said leading them into the living room where they admired everything from the carpet to the intricate fireplace their fingertips stroked along on their way to admire the milky glass you had talked about.

Grandpa, “Interesting furniture arrangement.” Taking notice of the couch still in the center of the room with the tv out a good distance from the wall as well.

Grandma, “And, is this eggshell for the walls?”

“Oh, that’s just the primer coat,” earning nods from them. “We’ve only painted the basement the colors Lee wanted yet, everywhere else had patchy drywall and needed the basecoat before we could paint whatever color we eventually decide on. I was thinking an indigo or navy for here, then go lighter on the way back.”

Grandpa, “That would be lovely.”

“Yes, we just have our things from Canada here so far, the rest is gonna be moved day after tomorrow, got a crew helping us and everything with the truck. It looks so much better in here with the new flooring in. Had huge gouges and welts in the floor where he’d smashed holes in the tiles and walls had been torn out, but I think I picked well on tiles and such and Rich loved the idea for the carpet shade.”

Onwards into the dining room you led them exciting them even more as your dad said, “Used to be two small rooms here we tore the walls out of to make this space bigger, adds another guest bath down here, and the kitchen was just laughable. Had to be ten by ten, if that with no dining room.”

“They tore the cabinets out and smashed the countertops too, but I got them to build me this really cool island, and there’s the bathroom tucked back here,” you said with a smile. Leading them from the bath hidden partly by the ends of the built ins and the half wall for a puzzling empty space now explained as a mini hall. From the cute bathroom they admired the silver and blue color scheme they followed you to the spacious pantry through the door in the middle of the built ins and out again to get a better look at the kitchen. “Brand new tile counters, good for heat and easy scrubbing, plus easy to repair if one does ever break.”

Grandma, “Very beautiful. Counter damage can be a nightmare.”

Your Grandpa led the way to the newly tiled sunroom, “You have a yard?”

“Little one, bout 30, 40 feet by 25.” you said in the way out onto the patio for a less than awe striking scrap of green spreading through the upturned tiled courtyard. “Haven’t decided on how to work the yard yet, but we were thinking of pulling back the tile for more grass space when we do have the courtyard redone.”

Grandpa, “You could have a nice garden here, and that is a nice tree, rather small.”

Your dad said, “I don’t think it’s very old, but it should grow over time. L said it flowers in the spring, so should be pretty, nice purple-ish ones.” Joining them on the walk back in where she led the way to the hall to the basement making Lee grin and follow along to give the tour of his impressive apartment he’d be renting before their trip back up to see more.

The bath under the stairs had them smiling for what hint of a theme you might be trying to match up to it for the rest of the place and up you went. A bed frame and mattress had been set up for your dad’s room you’d painted his decided color so he wouldn’t have to move the bed again and from the office to the guest room. There they paused to inspect the beds you had designed. Four Queen sized beds with one simple tug revealing in sliding drawers under the bottom one two spare twin sized slots for two more guests if need be surrounded by two rows of cubbies and shelves to fill the gaps to the ends of the walls had your grandfather asking, “Did you have these specially built? Or did they come with the house?”

“I designed them, actually.” You said in a hint of a bashful tone to their creeping smiles at seeing a glimmer of that engineering degree of yours coming to some use in all this construction making them wonder which other pieces you had come up with reminding them of your ingenious island downstairs they had admired for all its features. Along with several tiny features un-thought of to increase storage space where little more could be squeezed out.

Grandmother, “Impressive. This design could put many double beds sold now to shame.”

Your dad said leading the way out of the room, “Got another set upstairs. Wanted to get them in while the flooring and shelf units were going in to not piss off the neighbors more than necessary. Whole crew was amazed by her design and how precise her measurements came down to a simple photo copy onto a blueprint for the build.”

And onto the living space they had to admire how much space you were granting your father. An action they took as one of great respect for him almost drawing tears to their eyes. They knew how much you loved him and in this western culture that seemed at times to abandon their elders you shown a blatant disregard for that norm and even had granted your best friend a safe home as well in your free space too.

Up again they went to the more bland floor with just the interesting layout and curved wall shapes. “The second set of beds is in here.” Up until they reached the book nook that you led them past almost making them sigh at having to see another guest room. “And this one was clearly my favorite and gave me the best idea when I first saw it.”

Straight through the bathroom and into the closet you walked exiting the open sliding doors for their jaw dropping view of the framed sketch coated walls above the few built in shelves and benches under the wall near the window and the chandelier above a few rolled up rugs and a toy chest you’d found in a second hand shop. Your Grandma asked, “This looks like a children’s room, is it?” Looking straight at you now.

“We are planning ahead, no babies yet, obviously, but we did agree it’d be best to at least know where we wanted to put them when they do come. All reminding them of the wishes of their daughter on a pirate themed nursery of her own one day. “Mom had some Peter Pan sketches for me, so I have these mural sketches I’m gonna fill in in a few days and I was thinking a silvery blue for the walls. And I found this really cool pirate ship chandelier.”

The pair simply hugged you widening your grin in their silent moment of utter glee knowing babies had been planned for and they would one day see their great grandbabies both in person and pictured inside this nursery. “It is beautiful,” they said releasing you again before asking, “Where will you sleep?”

“Top floor.” Continuing the tour to the stairs for another stunning open floor plan. All the open spaces were looked at with a pause in the study you said, “I thought Rich might like this, so he can keep his work research here and have his own deflating spot after roles to pace or do whatever in to get into a character.”

Grandma looked at you, “He is very serious then in his craft.”

“Yes,” you said with a smile, “He might have to play death destined whores often for tv bits right now but one day he’ll get a role he can really sink his teeth into. He’s much more intense on stage. Ooh, like North and South when it comes out, he played it so well. I think next spring, ish, it’ll be out on BBC. I’ll warn you.”

Onto the bedroom and master suite and closet you showed them deepening their smiles spotting the boxes on the seemingly new mattress there beside the bed frame kit yet to be put together. Both taking in the odd wave to one wall on the other side of the staircase that limited where you could put your bed. “This wall is kind of odd but I think maybe a chair or something could go here, for night reading or something. And I was thinking maybe plum and grey for in here. Rich likes that scheme from my apartment now.”

“And you are moving in fully after the show, how much is this house?”

“1.5 million,” gaining a plotting nod from the pair on means of shifting funds your way if necessary.

She asked, “This seems large. We have looked at realtor listings here before. Is this large for this part of town?”

You nodded, “25 by 60 feet. 1500 roughly a floor for 7500. Huge compared to what I’d have ever dreamed to land. But L and Dad have been plotting a while. Which is good most spots on this block are closer to 3 million or even higher but it was so trashed we got a good deal, put one and a quarter into it so far not counting renovations, and have agreed to pay off the final quarter when I turn over the apartment.”

“I’m so proud of you,” she said instantly deepening your anxious grin to a pleased one, “This is an incredible home to begin in. Richard approves?”

“Yes, he’s only seen it in pictures but he helped to pick the first try for colors while he came to stay in Canada when I went back. So we’ve sort of worked on it together. I also have pictures of the new place he got in England, his brother moved and he wanted to be closer to his parents and since I graduated I don’t need to be so close to Oxford. I could just take the train if need be. He even picked a kids room there we said we could mirror the one here to sort of give them a sense of familiarity for when we bound around until we settle.”

Grandpa, “Great plan. Always useful to have an anchor for babies.”

“So where did you want to eat?” You asked and they smiled all the way back to the stairs where your grandmother paused eyeing the door on the side of the half walls around the stairs topped with milky glass panes. She eased it open and you said, “We have those at the ranch in Texas, barn door to keep kids off the stairs.”

That parted her lips as you showed her that it closed with a knob up top locking the door into the walls for a secure guard against baby tumbles. Your Gramps said, “I did not even notice this.”

“Five floors wanted to make sure we get these in with the other builds so they wouldn’t go forgotten. Plus the plastic ones they sell can give out, these are in the walls and mounted on the rails top and bottom.”

She eased the door back open again flat against the wall and walked with you now sharing second glances at each flight noticing the secure doors that doubled the safety of the unborn grandbabies you would be raising at least partly here. All the way down to the car feeling so much more at ease over what sort of home you might have chosen to claim for yourself out here and what that meant for your future.

They had chosen a hotel to stay in and while you savored your last night in your tiny bubble the inevitable morning crept closer and groggily you woke and readied yourself for the day. Though this time with fiery red hair that after a trip back to the salon the Queens had helped you with some fiery red hair dye that would wash out over the next few weeks in time for your trip back to bleach yourself blonde. Heading out in exactly the shorts and shirt your hand first fell onto once you’d eaten to start the final fitting and makeup process for the set pictures with the cast. Again your hair was straightened out by the amazed makeup crew that was glad to not have to use the assumed twelve cans of temporary hair dye that now could be scattered throughout the cast of extras that were eating up more than expected. Just a few extensions were added by means of a few stitches into the braids they were woven into around the bottom half of the back of your head that in case your curls did come out again the length wouldn’t be too noticeably changed. It was another bold look for yourself taking the others aback each time they spotted you adding this to your portfolio of identities you had assumed.

A speech was eventually given and soon enough from a place readied behind the lowered curtain for the first scene to your cast bows the spectacle was through and you could now wade through the night of flashes and press that had come to speak to each of the dancers to fill in the picture to flood the papers with. It was a stunning haul for the charity and partly in thanks to the deep pocket names yours had brought in. Losing you from the roster lured some investors from London. All who had personally flown here to add to the donation tin to spite the company that spurned you with promises to return praising your performance to build up more steam in the disc sales when they were available.

All in all you were glad to have taken the role for charity and once the extensions were removed, you’d washed the hairspray out of your hair and sat comfortably in your boxed up apartment a grin slid across your face in the mental goodbye to your trusty apartment that had seen so much of your dramatic little blip here.

One more night was taken on your old soon to be guest bed until the bright and early joint hour long unloading process of taking all you’d managed to get up to your place down to the truck to join Lee’s scattered boxes and desk he had. The guys locked up the truck and with a tight hug to your former landlord and new neighbor the keys were traded along with the final check and he chuckled letting you be on your way to the brownstone you beat the truck to.

Obviously used to the hefting of furniture up and down stairs the crew mentally planned each piece out and while you guided the furniture up to where it was going while holding boxes of your own your dad and Lee both handled the rest of the boxes. Word soon got around and the moving van had curious people peering in the open truck with a bit of disappointment not seeing anything fancier than some old furniture and boxes to go with the new appliances and tv’s you’d been photographed in accepting the delivery of. Yet the truck was soon emptied and the pleased team handed out handshakes accepting the cash you paid with. Pleased you had helped to streamline the process with a plan of your own making this one of the simplest moves they had done in this area with others they recounted for each other on the stroll back to the truck now locked up again. Moving the boxes though was half the battle, leaving the curb inside you went and got to unpacking.

First in your kitchen you unpacked your supply of dishes from the apartment having already put your supply from Canada in the kitchen on your floor, leaving your bedroom for later knowing you’d no doubt cry when you got there. Everything was in the middle of the rooms easing things even more for the crew who were told you would be painting more to explain it. But all your dishes and appliances you assigned new homes to joined the food in bags you unloaded into the fridge and pantry. Away from the table you moved the chairs extending the middle portion of it to scoot the chairs back readying the place for guests in the future.

The soaps and cleaning supplies you had were next, with the bottle of detergent taken down by Lee to the laundry room on his way to unpack his things while your dad was already on his way up to his own floor. Hefty and left in the middle of the reading room now housing your armchair from your apartment the boxes of books were next. With each empty box forming a pile you’d move to the garage for use later and in a make shift system more of the shelves were filled and the sight warmed your heart at their having a home now not just lying on the floor like before.

Up to Richard’s study you went, passing each guest bath you had decorated with small touches to make them usable to guests in the future, to unload the box of books and journals he’d left in New York either by design or chance and then gave in and went to your room. Along with your violin case the boxes from your closet along with the two bags you now traveled with were unloaded with the few shirts Richard had left with you, each you gave a quick hug to and settled on the shoe cubby and underwear drawer comprised island in the center of the room to be cuddled up in later. Stealing a once over in your way out all your things around the bed including your aquarium lamp you’d have to find the right home for later on.

Shaking off the vast space for just you down the steps again you went to pull together the first lunch in the place that would kick off the next round of painting. Again once you’d rinsed the dishes now added to the washer the windows were opened as the navy paint was opened and on the tarped living room floor brushes were grabbed to begin the final touches to this floor. Room by room the colors wanted were added breathing life into the place. Subtle shades of crème were used in the undecided space to not have white walls that just the base coat alone stood out too boldly against the navy you’d chosen that was matched by a single strip of bare wall inside your reading hideaway to go with the brilliant cherry wood shelving.

Dinner broke the painting and while the floor aired out you ate watching a film on your dad’s floor planning the next steps for the following day for him and you while Lee had some plans with a friend coming back to town.

“So when is trash day again?”

“Wednesday,” your dad answered. “The bins are in the garage, they pick up on that middle street.”

“I will remember that.” You said wetting your lips to add, “Ok before we get settled for night one, let’s have an honor code for toilet paper in the guest toilets.”

Lee, “Why are you looking at me?”

“You’re across from me, anyways I have the smallest bladder but if we see it’s running low in the guest baths we get a new roll for it even if we have to buy a new pack for the pantry.”

Lee nods, “I’m good with that. Speaking of bladder,” he said popping up to use your dad’s bathroom after a consenting point and nod exchange between him and your dad.

Once alone your dad smirks humming out, “I give him a week before he’s stealing toilet paper and towels from the guest bathrooms.”

You smirked replying, “Oh now, he’s got his show he’s rehearsing for, clearly he’ll be using theirs too. I give him two.”

“Might as well buy twelve packs for each bathroom with the rest of the supplies.” Making the both of you chuckle to yourselves finishing your meal with Lee once he’d returned. Once the food was gone your floor was tackled.

With your room a lovely plum color on two of the walls and the wall leading to the bathroom around the fireplace and the wavy wall were painted a lovely dark grey that while wet almost looked black but dried in a softer tone. The grey already was in your closet that proved as a test of the shockingly dark shade you were glad to duplicate in the bedroom. Midnight blue was used between the built ins for Richard’s study to make the wood pop as the accents that along with the light from the window helped to keep it from seeming too dark for him to be able to feel comfortable to work there. Dark teal was your alternative shade that from the mint accents in your kitchen colored your living room to finish off the colorful floor that with the left over white walls on the walls outside your bedroom and the study painted crème to help separate the different areas.

Pt 44

#Richard Armitage x Reader OC #Lee Pace x Reader OC #Moving In #Tour of Grandparents #The Little Mermaid Musical Ballet Charity Show #Rehearsals #Filming #Hospital Trip #Medical Issue #Recovery #Work Through The Pain #Grandparents Visit #Home Improvements Shown Off #Painting

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atc74 · 3 years

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Soul to Souls - Nineteen

Warnings: Pregnancy, labor, lots of language, fluff

Summary: Since she was four years old, Annaleigh has seen the same boy in her dreams. For twenty-five years, she grows to love the boy that has now turned into a man. Dean Winchester just lost the only family he has ever known. The guilt drives him to work harder than ever before. He works to forget the pain, until he meets Annaleigh and she turns his world upside down. What she learns changes both of their lives forever, but what will he do when he discovers the truth? Will he accept it or run back to the only life he has ever known?

Pairing: Dean x OC Annaleigh

Word Count: 2259

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, @katehuntington, thank you both for being my guides! Dividers and cover art by the amazingly talented @talesmaniac89.

A/N: This was my very first series I ever wrote four years ago in September 2016 and I am so happy and proud to bring this back home. Thank you to everyone that is enjoying the story so far. You’re probably going to get a couple chapters a week, trying to wrap this up before the new series starts.

Only one chapter left! 😢

Like Dean’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

Soul to Souls Master List

Previously...

Only a few days from her due date, Annaleigh sat quietly in the nursery one night, sleep eluding her as she was not able to get comfortable much anymore. Her eyes were closed, and she absentmindedly rubbed her swollen belly, thinking about how happy she was with their life and how much things had changed over the last five and a half years, how much they had lost and how much they had gained. She didn’t even open her eyes when she heard the fluttering of wings in the room.

“Hi Cas,” she said quietly.

“Hey, girl.” The gruff voice had her bolting upright, her eyes flying open.

“Bobby?” her words were barely a whisper, as she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.

Now...

“Yeah, Kid, it’s me. The powers that be finally decided I could show myself to you. It’s been hard being here with the kids most nights and not being able to talk to you. I know Dean is treatin’ ya right though; I can feel it in him. That boy loves you.”

“Dean!” Annaleigh wanted her husband to be here with her, with Bobby. Anna heard him call out to her, and she laughed as he turned the corner too fast in his socked feet, slipping as he entered the nursery.

“Red! Are you okay? What’s wrong?” She heard the fear in his voice as he reached her side.

Panic had rushed through him when he heard Annaleigh yell for him and she wasn’t in their bed. They only had days to go until the newest Winchester arrived and Dean was nervous she would go into labor any minute.

Standing before him was Bobby, stopping Dean dead in his tracks.

“Bobby?” He couldn’t really believe it was him.

“Yeah, it’s me, Son.” Dean embraced Bobby with all his might; he was so happy to see him.

“God, I missed you, old man,” Dean whispered over Bobby’s shoulder.

Bobby looked around the nursery casually. “I love what you’ve done with the place. I think she is going to love it.”

“Thanks, Bobby. Sam and I have been working on - wait, what?” Dean stuttered. “Did you say ‘she’?”

“Oops, I don’t think I was supposed to tell. One of the perks of being an angel, I guess,” Bobby replied sheepishly.

“It’s a girl?” Anna asked, getting up from the rocker and slowly walking over to Bobby. “Are you sure?”

Bobby reached out and placed his hands over Anna’s stomach, a pale blue glow emanating from his palms. “Yeah, Annaleigh, I’m sure, and she is as beautiful as her Mama.” A single tear rolled down his face and disappeared into his unruly beard.

Dean watched as Bobby embraced his wife before he joined, wrapping his arms around both of them, really feeling like their family was complete. Even if Bobby couldn’t be here physically with them, they knew he was always here.

Despite her due date coming and going, Dr. Sullivan had assured Anna and Dean that their baby and Annaleigh were perfectly healthy and, as long as that didn’t change, she didn’t want to risk inducing labor and causing undue stress on both mother and baby. Cas dropped by every few days and confirmed the doctor’s decision. Number three was just not ready to make her debut just yet - the Winchesters liked to make a dramatic entrance. Robby and Millie certainly had, arriving almost a month early.

Dean’s birthday was coming, and the birthday tradition for her husband meant pie, not cake. With the kids at preschool and Dean at his brother’s, Anna took advantage of the quiet and spent the morning making a pecan and an apple pie for him, since those were his favorite. She had invited Sam, and of course Jody over for his birthday dinner the next night, along with Bobby and Cas, if they could manage.

Exhaustion calling her as she yawned widely, Anna laid down on the couch for a little snooze, texting Dean first.

Before she knew it, Dean was waking her gently from her cocoon on the couch. The kids were already washed and seated at the table, waiting patiently for supper. Dean helped her to her feet, and she shuffled off to the bathroom before her bladder exploded.

Dean was serving dinner when she returned to the dining room, and she gladly accepted his offer to make her plate and pour the milk. He has been taking such good care of her, a girl could get used to it. Robby and Millie led a short Grace before they ate.

“Thank you Lord for this food and for Mama and Daddy,” Robby started.

“Thank you for the snow and for Grampa. But, God, if you are listening, could you please bring my baby sister?” Millie ended the Grace with Amen, and Dean and Anna both chuckled a little.

“Millie, I am excited for her to get here too, but sometimes babies don’t come when they are supposed to. You and your brother didn’t,” Anna offered.

“I know, Mama, but I’m just really excited to meet her and give her a real name besides ‘baby sister’,” Millie confessed to her parents.

Once dinner was over, Dean cleared the dishes and put away the leftovers. It was nearing bathtime for both kids, and Anna slowly made her way towards the stairs when she felt the warmth trickle down her legs.

“Dean!” she called from the base of the stairs, holding onto the banister for support.

“Yeah, Red?” Dean answered as he rounded the corner from the kitchen. He saw Anna clutching the banister with a puddle at her feet.

“Dean, my water just broke,” Anna grimaced, trying to stay upright as the first contraction hit her.

“I know, Red. I can see it.” He helped her sit down on the stairs. “Stay right here. I’ll be right back with a change of clothes for you. I’m gonna call Jody to come stay with the twins.” He raced up the stairs, yelling for the kids and reaching for his phone.

“Jody, it’s Dean. Yeah, it’s time. Can you come stay with Robby and Millie?...Yeah, I’ll have Sam stay until you can get here...I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sticking around and helping...Thank you so much.” Dean placed the next call to Sam.

“Sammy, it’s time. Jody’s coming, but we need you right now,” Dean panted as he rushed from room to room. “Yes, Sam...I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you stuck around...now can we worry about your love life when my wife isn’t in labor?...’Kay, thanks, Sammy.”

Robby and Millie ran into their bedroom, holding hands. “Daddy?” they said in unison, watching him scramble around the room looking for clothes for his wife.

“Uncle Sam is going to come stay with you until Jody gets here. I’m going to take Mommy to the hospital. I think your baby sister is finally going to come tonight,” Dean said excitedly to the children.

“YAY! Baby Sister! Baby Sister!” They screamed in unison, jumping up and down.

Dean ran back down the stairs to find his wife still sitting there, breathing and counting. Easing her to her feet and into the small bathroom off the kitchen, Dean gingerly held her while helping her slip off her soaking wet pants and underwear, then pulling on clean bottoms. “How far apart, Red?”

“Best guess is four to five minutes, I don’t really know,” Annaleigh breathed out.

Sam was waiting for them when they emerged, a child in each arm. “Don’t worry, guys, I got this. Go have my niece! Call me with updates.”

Dean grabbed the two bags that had been packed by the front door for a month, running them out to the car, then went back for Anna, helping her slowly down the porch steps and into the car. Once they were both secured, he backed out of the driveway and sped off towards the hospital.

Dean was grateful for the cakewalk this pregnancy had been, for Anna’s sake. Even almost two weeks overdue, it had been much easier on her than the first. Dean was also ecstatic to have another baby with this extraordinary woman. About fifteen minutes later, he pulled up in front of the hospital’s emergency entrance. He jumped out quickly, grabbing a wheelchair and helped Annaleigh into it, pushing her through the double doors.

After they were checked in, a nurse came to get her and gave Dean her room number. She let him know they were going to get her settled. He knew she was in capable hands, but he reluctantly left her side to park the car. Immediately upon returning to the maternity ward, he could hear his wife screaming his name and swearing. He wasn’t sure he deserved it; it wasn’t entirely his fault, but he would gladly take whatever she dished out. Dean entered the room, and a nurse threw him a set of scrubs. He quickly changed into the scrubs and rushed to his wife’s side. She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him down to her, her face flushed, sweat already beading on her porcelain skin.

“You did this to me! You fucker! I hate you!” Anna bellowed at him and he let her, taking it like a good husband should when their wife is pushing the next generation into the world.

“Ok, Annaleigh, all done with that one. Take some deep breaths and the doctor will be right in to check on you,” the nurse spoke calmly and Anna stopped yelling.

Reaching up, she cupped Dean’s stubbled cheek, and he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes, relishing in the calm her touch provided, even when she was the one doing all the work. “I love you, Dean. I am so happy we are having another baby. Thank you for giving me a family.”

“I love you too, Red. We wouldn’t have this family if it wasn’t for you. You are strong and brave. You are my rock. You are the best mama ever and we are lucky to have you.” He placed small kisses over her head and forehead, trailing down to her mouth. She kissed him with a passion and energy he didn’t think she could muster during labor, but he had learned long ago never to underestimate her, ever.

They were interrupted by a throat being cleared as the doctor entered the room. “Hi Annaleigh, how are you doing?” Doctor Sullivan inquired, coming around the foot of the bed. “Let’s take a look at your progress. The nurse says your contractions are pretty strong, so let’s see how far along you are.” The doctor lifted up the sheet and did a quick exam before she removed her gloves and turned to them.

“Okay, mom, you are dilated to six centimeters and are moving along well. This baby should be making an appearance in just a few hours. I’ll have one of the nurses come check on you in a bit.” With that, she was gone.

“Dean, did you hear that? There is a good chance she’ll be born on your birthday.” Anna looked up at him with those beautiful blue eyes, glistening with tears.

“Red, I couldn’t ask for a better birthday present,” Dean leaned down and kissed her again.

The next couple of hours went by quickly, nurses checking in every few minutes during contractions until, finally, it was time. The doctor came into the room and told Anna to start pushing, which she did like a champ. Their daughter arrived kicking and screaming in less than ten minutes, weighing seven pounds, fourteen ounces and just over twenty inches long.

Doctor Sullivan looked at the clock, officially announcing the time of birth as 1:07am, January the 24th. They had a birthday baby, and Dean couldn’t hide his smile or tears. He turned to his wife, kissing her full on the mouth. “Red, I am so proud of you. Thank you so much for this gift.”

A nurse handed Dean a pink bundle, and he looked down at her with so much love in his heart, kissing her little head before passing her to his wife. “She is so beautiful, Red.”

“We never talked about it, so what are we going to name her, Dean?” Anna and Dean exchanged options quietly, sneaking glances down at their new daughter, finally landing on the one they both loved.

No one else would have noticed over the hustle and bustle in the room, but if you knew what you were listening for, you could hear it. They both glanced up to see Bobby standing silently in the corner, waiting for everyone to clear out so he could be alone with his family and meet his new granddaughter. Once the delivery staff left the family alone, he made his way over the edge of the bed.

“Hey pretty girl,” he cooed over the new baby, just like he had with the twins.

“Bobby, meet your granddaughter, Samantha Karen Winchester, but you can call her Sammie,” Anna declared, watching the old man cry for only the fourth time in her life.

“She’s gonna be tickled pink when I tell her,” Bobby sniffed as he cradled the newborn in his arms. His wet eyes flicked up to meet Dean’s. “Thank you.”

“No thanks necessary, Bobby. We couldn’t think of any better way to honor her memory than to name this little one after her,” Dean expressed. “She would have been a wonderful grandma.”

“Yeah, she woulda,” the old man sniffed, letting his emotions take over.

Bobby stayed at the hospital for a little longer, until Anna was too tired to keep her eyes open. She tried to deny it, but he knew better. He left the hospital to check in on the rest of his family. The twins were sleeping soundly, holding hands as usual. Bobby slowly made his way down the stairs, knowing it would be faster to fly, but not wanting the flutter of his wings to wake Sam. He didn’t expect to find him curled up on the sofa with Jody in a cocoon of blankets to ward against the chilly winter night. He found himself smiling, proud of the boys he had raised and the men they had become.

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

Soul to Souls tags: @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @iwantthedean @jensengirl83 @deanwanddamons @smol-and-grumpy @kbl1313 @waywardbeanie @whatareyousearchingfordean @princessmisery666 @shy-violet-soul @lastcallatrockysbar @winchesterxfamilybusiness @fangirlxwritesx67 @squirrelnotsam @michellethetvaddict @magssteenkamp @wonder-cole

#dean x annaleigh #dean x ofc #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester smut

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spnfanficpond · 4 years

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April 2020 Angel Fish Awards

(New Angel Fish design by @slytherkins!!)

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.

The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE IN THE POND CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. While the Pond was founded to support the Guppies, everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that by opening this up as a Pond wide system, we’ll be able to share the love as far as it can go.

NOTE: WE’VE BEEN HAVING OCCASIONAL PROBLEMS WITH ASKS GOING MISSING. Please use the Submit button when submitting your nominations and make sure you’re signed into Tumblr or your URL won’t show. (If the form asks for your name and email address, then you’re not signed in.) If you like, you can also send a message to Michelle @mrswhozeewhatsis or Mana @manawhaat to check and make sure we got your submission.

**Also, due to the number of afas and multiple nominations, each person on this list will only be tagged once. Please be sure to read the entire post so you don’t miss multiple nominations/comments!**

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE APRIL’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!

Nominated by @thoughtslikeaminefield

Slow (oneshot) by @sunlightdances

Intimacy is sooooo sexy xox

Nominated by @manawhaat

Ritual (oneshot) by @winchester-fantasies

This fic is grounded, subtle, realistic, and has an incredible energy between Dean and the reader! There’s so many little things that play into the bigger picture to make this really flow and work seamlessly as a whole!

Temporary Scars (series) by @thoughtslikeaminefield

Fucking hell. Dean x Donna x Benny is such a rare pair that it’s NOT something I knew I needed, but everything about this dynamic is fucking perfect. It’s a bit of an AU, but I still love the way each character was represented. What they all brought to the table and how they balanced each other out in exactly the ways they needed. There’s a dynamic here that I haven’t seen before, especially not with THESE characters, and they complement each other fucking GORGEOUSLY!

Boyking fic (oneshot) by @whispersandwhiskerburn

This shit is fucking CRAFTY! There’s a lot of little things that carry through this and the way that ‘control’ is presented in each scene of this fic is very cool.

Calm (series) by @winchesterswoonathon

Oof! This John series just totally fucks me up. It’s perfect in the way you swoon over him and yearn to see a side of him he so rarely shows others. Maggie definitely knows how to nail the pining for John angle!

Dream Drabble (oneshot) by @theychosefamily

Sam’s comfort and sincerity in this kill me! It may have been inspired by a dream, but this tracks so well for each of them and could definitely be a scene plucked from the show!

The Unexpected (oneshot) by @impalaimagining

Goddamn this is sexy as all hell! It’s intense and passionate and scary and dazzlingly wonderful!

Nominated by @flamencodiva

Three’s A Crowd (series) by @1000roughdrafts

So I was browsing Kay’s Masterlist and came upon this very lovely Gem! I would love to see what happens next and I know Kay is extremely busy, but she is a talented writer and I wanted to put this lovely work out there. It is a wonderful concept and I can’t wait to see what happens!

Just Me & My Baby (oneshot) by @deanwinchesterswitch

A good way to rot your teeth with Dean fluff. This story pulls on your heartstrings and can be just what you need when you feel down.

The Pact (series) by @coffee-obsessed-writer

This is an amazing AU Sam Fic! It is well written and traps you into the fantasy world from the very beginning. I can’t wait to see the roller coaster that is this story as it is beginning to unfold!

Nominated by @deanwanddamons

The Sullivan Series (series) by @katehuntington

I binge read this series and adore it. Zoe is such a badass and an awesome OFC.

It is so good it could easily be written as a series of SPN and I am really hoping it is continued as I can’t wait for the next series. Kate is such an awesome person, hugely supportive and a big influence on me as a writer. This series deserves so much more recognition.

Ride With Me (seires) by @katehuntington

This series is divine. I am so invested in this right now. The way Kate writes is a true inspiration to me and this AU is stunning. Her story telling and descriptions are totally immersive and I am so excited to see where she takes us on this journey.

He’s Not You (series) by @mummybear

This series is awesome! It’s really building momentum and I’m loving where it’s going. Such a great idea for a story and can’t wait to see where Chelsea takes us!

The Man on the Side of the Road (series) by @supernatural-jackles

This series was beautiful. I was so invested in this and so sad when it came it an end. It was very cathartic for me to read as I related to the reader so much.

Shatter Me (series) by @winchest09

This series is incredible. Such a superb concept and I love the way it has been written. The feeling of isolation and Dean’s desperation to save her had me engrossed all the way through. A must read.

D.W. (oneshot) by @kittenofdoomage

I have recently ventured into dark fic and was recommended this.

Demon!Dean is just 🔥 and this fic is dark, sexy and very explicit. And holy shit I LOVED IT!

Nominated by @moosekateer13

House of the Rising Sun (series) by @kittenofdoomage

What I really loved about it shows the love can change your whole perspective of the world when love is thrown into the mix.

The Ones You Love (series) by @kittenofdoomage

It shows how far the Winchester's are willing go when it comes to their family.

Cosa Nostra (series) by @kittenofdoomage

Loved how in the end love and their bond was stronger than an obstacles that were thrown in their way.

Paid In Full (series) by @kittenofdoomage

Loved it! It taught you look past what you see at first.

Poor Little Rich Girl (series) by @winchesterprincessbride

Love how it showed the money is isn't everything love is more important.

Political Animals (series) by @winchesterprincessbride

Loved the sometimes it showed the its better to break away from people who are trying to control your life.

Bed of Roses (series) by @crispychrissy

Loved how it to taught you to look past first impressions and that there is always more than meets the eye.

Nominated by @thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters

Control and Release - 30 (series) by @thecleverdame

I think I might’ve nominated this series before, when I wasn’t caught up yet, but I am now and I just have to recommend this chapter. The entire story is gold but this chapter in particular had me sucked right into the scene at the end. The intensity of the fight and the way they deal with everything that is going on; the emotions, the worlds outside of their little bubble of safety. I don’t want to say too much and spoil it for whoever hasn’t read this series yet. But, if you are one of those people, I highly recommend you change that ASAP.

The Secrets We Keep (series) by @princessmisery666

Better late than never, right? At least that’s what I’m telling myself to ease the guilt I’m feeling for how long it took me to finally read this series like I said I would. I didn’t enjoy it any less, that’s for sure. And that was even before I got to the twist that made it even better. I loved the vulnerability between Sam and Erin, and the different kind of friendship she had with Dean.

Cabin Fever (long oneshot) by @slytherkins

I’ve already attempted (and failed) to express my thoughts on this story to the author privately, so I won’t try again here, in risk of my heart shattering all over again. But what I definitely will say (and I will break into my upstairs neighbor’s apartment to scream it from their balcony if I have to) is this: STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING and go read this fic if you haven’t already. It’s a heavy read, yes. But it is more than worth it, I promise you.

Equanimous (oneshot) by @imagineteamfreewill

I love the tension in this scene. The boys are so in character and I could picture the demons perfectly. And, of course, Cas storming in, being badass, and saving the day, that’s always a plus.

Non-existent (oneshot) by @waywardjoy

I’m definitely a sucker for a good crack-fic. To be honest, when I read the summary I was already sold. That signature bickering between the boys never gets old, does it?

Nominated by @impalaimagining

Handy Man (oneshot) by @deanwanddamons

Physically speaking, on the list of things I love about Dean Winchester, this checks almost every single box. I love the little things you’re noticing about Dean as the reader - his freckles, the contrast between his skin and the black shirt he’s wearing, exactly which Zeppelin song he’s singing while he works. The teasing is a nice touch too, especially the line about the night before. Proud Dean is so cute, and it’s exactly how I would expect him to react to being the hero around the house.

Nominated by @impala-dreamer

Almost Paradise (oneshot) by @amanda-teaches

Amanda always always writes the fluff so well, but this little bit of bittersweet longing is delicious. Also, she nails Dean EVERY TIME. One of those writers who just gets Dean’s voice down so perfectly. Very Very well done!

Enough Time (oneshot) by @dissect-me

I was just scrolling the pond list and found this wonderful Destiel fic. I mean… the emotions were intense and I was a mess by the end. Just lovely and so well done. I will be diving back through their masterlist for more Destiel!!

Nominated by @kittenofdoomage

Life For Rent (series) by @winchest09

@katehuntington told me to go read this so I did and I do not regret it. An amazingly sexy (and at times, heartbreaking) series, not for the faint of heart. Totally waiting on edge for the next chapter.

Call Of The Ocean (series) by @flamencodiva and @anatheweirdo

I’m fairly certain I’ve nominated this before but it’s so good, I’m gonna nominate it again. You will absolutely become invested in Thasman’s well-being.

Nominated by @fangirlxwritesx67

Communion (oneshot) by @thoughtslikeaminefield

But Dean’s natural state is this – nesting, nuzzling, curled up and warm. He speaks softly and quietly. His voice isn’t always rough and hard. He sings. MY FEELS. This is beautiful and heart-wrenching all at once.

Sex with Dean is always really good. A lot of times it’s a rushed, life-affirming kind of thing. So when we have time, every touch is at once charged and grounded. And when we have time and are also able to imbibe? It’s metamorphic. All of this, just one perfect line after another. WOW

Just to be his in our own little bubble. And this, this is exactly how this story feels- so close and heavy and perfect Amazing work,.Like, really astounding.

Synesthesia (oneshot) by @there-must-be-a-lock

Lou took this prompt and did something wildly creative! It’s so well done that the reader can see and feel and taste it.

Wild Thing (series) by @there-must-be-a-lock

I am in love with the Everything series so, so much. Lou has done a beautiful job of building a world with J2 x reader, so loving and creative and hot. This one is, for sure, a favorite! Incorporates one of my favorite quotes into a smoking hot fic. Good work!!

Dear Mr. Fantasy (oneshot) by @itmighthavebeenintentional

But there’s one particular Other Dean, a favorite one his mind drifts to during rare peaceful moments. Daydreaming when he should be researching, drifting off when a particular song plays on the radio while he’s working on Baby, even washing his hands sometimes will pull him back to those dreams.

6 paragraphs in, and I knew Val was going to break my heart. This is a gorgeous gorgeous story! Creative premise, great characterization, and written so that you can see and taste and feel every moment.

I found myself wanting to both read faster, and slow down and savor it. And yes, it broke my heart, but so beautifully that I would let it happen over and over again.

Weight (oneshot) by @67midnightwriter

This one is short and both painful and beautiful. So very heavy with experience and meaning. An excellent example of the ways that our favorite characters can help inspire us, lift us and encourage us to keep going

The Second Hand Unwinds (oneshot) by @mskathywriteswords

Kathy is new-ish to the SPN family but not to either writing or fandom, and it is immediately apparent in her first piece of SPN fanfic. Her creative storyline, her grasp of the characters, and her way with words make it immediately apparent that you are reading the work of a master!

Salvation (oneshot) by @dontshootmespence

This story feels like an episode of the show from earlier seasons, just the right balance of angst and monster fighting with tantalizing peeks of smut and feels. Excellent job!

There are no words that come close to explaining what she means to him. How she saves what soul he has left. These flashback scenes are both hot and tender. The voice the author gives to Sam is spot on, achingly familiar. The contrast between the flashbacks and the action is painfully good.

What’s more frightening, a man like Dean, practiced in his violence out of necessity? Or a man like him, on the verge of losing everything and nothing left to lose? This is a well drawn distinction between the Winchester brothers, and such a good characterization of Sam! It’s easy to forget sometimes what a fearsome hunter he is, but this author reminds us with razor sharp clarity.

“You’re safe with me, Sam. You never have to hide from me.“ Such a beautiful relationship between Sam and this woman! It’s no wonder he’s fighting so hard to save her.

This story has an imaginative plot, fast paced action and some sweet hotness! Plus the author does such a good job with Sam, I’m in love with him all over again. I haven’t read this author much before but you’d better believe I won’t miss a story now!

Casual Affair (oneshot) by @fookinghelljensensthighs

This Dean x Benny fic is short, smoking hot and painfully good. A must read!

Nominated by @mariekoukie6661

The Force of Habit (series) by @littlegreenplasticsoldier

I read that series at least 3 times now. I love this story, its witty and funny. This fic just makes me smile without trying! Even after reading 3 times, I still thoroughly enjoyed it like it was the first time.

Satisfied (series) by @crashdevlin

This is so good, the emotion that this series makes me feel is just out of this world!

Dangerous Signs (series) by @kittenofdoomage

Rhi always has brilliant idea!!! This is one of those and I just can’t get enough of her writing.

Control and Release (series) by @thecleverdame

What start as mostly just porn turned into such a great series with twist and turns!

Hunger (oneshot0 by @impala-dreamer

Oof… what to say about this? it’s Beka! It’s hot and sweaty and makes me want more! Like everything she writes!

Nominated by @myinconnelly1

Couldn’t Resist (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

This is fun, funny, and sexy. Short sweet and to the point, while still getting you hot under the collar!!!

Dark Obsession (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

Where do I even start in this drabble! It's so fucking cute and funny! I was laughing out loud and could totally see TFW trying to play their parts here

Promise Me We’ll Be Alright (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

What a pain in the heart this fic was. It hurt so good!! I was ready to cry

Say My Name (oneshot) by @idabbleincrazy

Smoking hot! While in general Baby-girl is a turn off for me, this fic is so far from it! funny at the start with some cracky dean who is caught in the middle, then getting some possessive Sam which is like my fav!

I’ll See You on Your Birthday (oneshot) by @sorenmarie87

SOOO MUCH FLUFF!!! Like seriously i needed a dentist after. Some cute ABO pregnancy right here!

Just A Number (oneshot) by @crispychrissy

Again Sexy and Funny (I have a type ok) This was a great use of Age Gap and it wasn't creepy and didn't need a little blue pill at all!

Happily Ever After (oneshot) by @dontshootmespence

HAPPILY EVER AFTER! It's all i need to say!!!! Read It!

Missing Person (oneshot) by @emilyshurley

This fic is by my favoritest human in the world!!! It’s hilarious and silly but also almost canon. Plus I make a cameo as Garth’s friend!!! What’s not to love!!!

Nominated by @lovetusk

The Only Exception (series) by @ne-gans & @negans-lucille-tblr

While only the prequel so far, I’m too hyped for this beauty to NOT nominate it.

Survive (oneshot) by @kittenofdoomage

I’m always here for some Alpha!Sam, but this one punched me right in the feels. How dare anyone keep him from his Omega.

He Wasn’t In Love With You (oneshot) by @sorenmarie87

Dawn doesn't angst often, but sometimes she does and I love it.

Nominated by @there-must-be-a-lock

Noises (oneshot) by @67midnightwriter

Just. HOT. Hot hot hot like burning. Dom!Cas playing Dean like a goddamn fiddle... what more can you ask for!?

Come For Me (oneshot) by @fangirlxwritesx67

My favorite thing this author has published so far! There are a whole lot of emotions in this one, adrenaline and fear and relief and lust and tenderness, and you can feel the depth of everything going on between them and the chaos of the moment. Also, nailed the “oh shit where did this predatory hotass come from” feeling that I totally imagine would happen during a first time with Sammy.

Plus One (oneshot) by @thoughtslikeaminefield

This is smutty and raunchy and HOT but it also manages to nail the sweet, loving side of Dean. Smut can so easily be one-dimensional, but this fic managed to be both filthy and tender in a way that feels 150% true to character.

Dear Mr. Fantasy (oneshot) by @itmighthavebeenintentional

An absolutely stunning exploration of some parallel universe Deans. Gorgeously vivid language, such incredible character accuracy, borderline heartbreaking but in a way that isn’t hopeless; it makes you feel FULL. My favorite SPN fic I’ve read in a long time.

The Second Hand Unwinds (oneshot) by @mskathywriteswords

Incredibly evocative, gorgeous wistful tone, and a couple little plot twists that hit you with all the right feels.

Nominated by @winchest09

All I Want (series) by @katehuntington

I love this, so much. I love the take on this particular episode and how in fact it brings back the reader instead of *spoiler*. It’s still ongoing and it’s already tugging on heartstrings and has made me cry so if you read this, grab your tissues!

Ride With Me (series) by @katehuntington

This series has my heart. Like this could be a published book that i would read cover to cover, over and over. The spine would be broken, pages glued in because i would have read it that much. How everything is described, how the world is painted, the characters, the setting…just everything. It’s a must read..A MUST READ.

I Just Called to Say I Love You (series) by @talesmaniac89

This broke my heart. This was so beautifully written to the point i was sobbing behind my screen mumbling incoherent words to my husband before talking to a few other tumblr blogs about it. If you read this, have tissues handy. Dean was so in character and my heart will never be the same. Must read.

The Man In Apartment 43 (series) by @talesmaniac89

This series has me so intrigued! It’s written amazingly, has me gasping, has me seriously flinching at some of the creepy goings on and I cannot wait to see where this goes! It’s an ongoing series and I’m loving it!

Handy Man (oneshot) by @deanwanddamons

This lovely little drabble satisfies all my domestic dean needs. Covering his fine ass, arms and back. I mean…Come on! It’s just everything that you need in a bite size package. I absolutely loved it!

Nominated by @katehuntington

One For Tomorrow, One Just For Today (oneshot) by @thoughtslikeaminefield

Sex with Dean is always amazing, but there’s nothing hotter than him singing a classic while he’s doing it. After reading this, that famous song by The Doors will never sound the same. Sit back, relax and listen to the music.

Handy Man (oneshot) by @deanwanddamons

Dean fixing a blocked drain under the kitchen sink in a black shirt and Levi’s jeans; what a sight that must be. The writer of this fic is able to describe the scene in great detail. Besides the obvious appreciation of the gorgeous man, it’s great to see him doing something normal and domesticated. It’s the life we all wish for him. A great little drabble for a Sunday morning with a cup of tea on the side.

You’re Home (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

A drabble that’s absolutely worth mentioning, is this short story. Beka does Dean’s PTSD more justice in 682 words than the writers have ever done on the entire show. A beautiful piece of art.

Imagine Dean debating asking you out (oneshot) by @luci-in-trenchcoats

Dean has a crush on a girl, Sam is calling him out. When his little brother threatens to expose his secret, Dean tries to silence him, and it’s honestly the funniest read I’ve had this month. Writing comedy isn’t easy, but this was flawless.

I Just Called To Say I Love You (oneshot) @talesmaniac89

This one hurts bad, but in the most wonderful way. It’s exactly how Dean would go down, the characterisation beyond perfect. The descriptions, the dialogue, the details, the choices. It’s a Rembrandt painted with letters.

Side By Side (series) by @talesmaniac89

Another brilliant creation, based on the song Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol. A song which surfaces a lot of emotions, much like this poetic and amazing piece of fanfiction. Words that come to mind are heart wrenching, tear jerking, and in a way comforting as well. A must read.

The Voices (oneshot) by @fictionalabyss

Based on ‘I hear the voices when I’m dreaming. I can hear them sing’ from the Supernatural anthem Carry On My Wayward Son, comes this breathtakingly beautiful piece of fanfiction. Perfect lines, spot on dialogue and it couldn’t have been more true to the character. It’s painfully raw, sad, and tears will fall. It makes you feel for Dean in ways that are difficult to describe. The writer of this story is known for her talent with words, but she outdid herself here.

Nicotine (oneshot) by @talesmaniac89

This story is inspired by the song Nicotine by Chef’Special and was written for my 1K celebration. The lyrics to this song are surprisingly depressing, despite it being an upbeat song, and the writer has captured it better than I could have ever hoped for. If her writing was music, it would be a symphony played by an orchestra. Her way with words is melodic and moving. Goosebumps all over.

My Hero (oneshot) by @plaidstiel-wormstache

What I love most about this fanfic is the medical accuracy. I am no expert in any way, but after seeing countless medical dramas and having done plenty of research for characters and stories, I really appreciate it when knowledge about medicine practically drips from my screen. A lovely read.

Thank you all for the awesome work and great feedback!

These are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be :D

THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

#afa masterlist #afas #angel fish awards #spn fanfic #spn fic rec #fan fiction #fanfiction #fan fic #fanfic #spn fan fiction #spn fanfiction #spn fan fic #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #fic rec #supernatural fic rec

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you-a-southpaw-doll · 4 years

Text

Daddy’s Family ~ A Negan One-Shot

Summary: The day Negan’s life gets put back together in the middle of the end of the world when Simon brings a young girl to the Sanctuary.

Warning(s): Language. Angst. Threats. Rules. Violence - Slightly Canon, Slightly Non-Canon. Negan being an ass. Anxious Negan. Sweet Negan. Caring Negan. Daddy Negan, but not in that way, ok...maybe a little like that, but only with his wife. Lol. Happy AF Negan. OOC Negan. Fluff. Happy ending. Abraham and Glenn live. More time has passed since the dead started walking and Negan’s outpost gets attacked by Rick and company than what it is in the story, but Judith is toddler when Negan meets her for the first time. Not beta’d, so...there’s that. I only have Grammarly used on this.

Author’s Note(s): So, I know this is really fuckin’ long, but I really hope y’all fuckin’ enjoy this! It was only supposed to be a couple thousand words, no more than 3,000...but...I just couldn’t bring myself to end it after only 3,000 words. So, y’all get a whopping almost 11,000 words! And I know it’s a bit OOC for Negan, but oh well! We all need some soft Negan at some point! Any feedback is appreciated! As always, if you wanna be tagged, just let me know! P.S. I’ll be getting back to my “Lovin’ Him” story soon, I hope. I just haven’t been in a good mental place, but I haven’t given it up. I promise!

Word Count: 10,495 words!

Relationship(s): Negan x Leigh Sullivan (OFC) [romantic]. Negan x Lucille (OFC and not the Lucille from the story) [paternal]. Negan x Issac “Ike” (OMC).

Characters: Negan. Leigh Sullivan (OFC). Lucille (OFC and not the Lucille from the story). Issac “Ike” (OMC). Rick. Sanctuary Workers. Simon. Michonne. Carl. Judith. Eli (OMC).

Taglist: @negans-network @prettyboynegan @mychemicalimagines @spnnnxangelsx @rockinkel21 @misskittycat02 @band--psycho @ofxallxwexlost @iron-halt @thamberlinawrites @ravenwings73 @lettherebepink @stoneyggirl @sebs-padawan

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Story Time:

It’s been three days. Three days since Simon and his group brought the young girl back to the Sanctuary. Three days since Negan had been out on a solo trip to the one place he’s visited on the same day every year for the last 8 years since the world went to shit and his world ended. Three days since Negan got back and heard the first whispered words about the new girl.

Three days and Negan still hasn’t said a word to her. He hasn’t been able to bring himself to introduce himself to the teenager. And he knows why. For the first time since everything went to shit and he lost everything, he’s scared. Scared to give in to the hope that’s trying to crawl outta the deepest recesses of his hardened heart.

Scared to believe the words he’s ‘bout the girl for the last three days. Scared to find out the truth. Scared that he’s gonna lose everything all over again if everything’s true. After mentally beating himself up, leaving him on the verge of a panic attack, something he ain’t had in a while, he finds himself sucking in a deep breath as he knocks softly and hesitantly on the thin door in front of him.

When he doesn’t get a response from inside the room, he wipes a leather-covered hand across his forehead, wiping the sweat away, and reaches a shaky hand out, curling his long and normally steady fingers around the metal doorknob, twisting it slowly, hearing the latch click open. He pauses and bites his lip as he mentally curses himself.

If his people could see him right now, they wouldn’t think of him as the strong, bat-wielding leader he’s built himself up to be in order to cope and lead his people. They would think he’s a weakling, and he’d lose his spot as leader. But, in this moment, another part of his mind tells him to fuck what his people think and to open the door.

He swallows deeply and follows that part of his brain as his heart thumps loudly against the side of his ribs. Slowly pushing the door open, he pauses at what he sees inside the small room. And what he doesn’t see. His eyes search the room that’s basically bare, minus the mattress in the corner, a chair and small table against one wall, and a small set of drawers next to the door.

It takes him a moment before his eyes finally settle on what, or rather, who he’s looking for. His heart tightens painfully in his chest as soon as he sees her. The teenage girl his men brought back to the Sanctuary three damn days ago. The who had been found in the middle of a decently sized herd, fighting off as many walkers as she could when Simon and his group showed and laid waste to them.

The girl who had passed out, from shock or exhaustion, they weren’t sure, as soon as Simon had uttered Negan’s name. The girl Negan had been avoiding like the plague since he returned from the memorial spot he visited every year. The girl who Negan now finds himself unable to take his eyes off as he takes her in.

Dressed in a slightly baggy, once white but now a faded grey from years of grime and dirt t-shirt, holy blue jeans, and a pair of black combat boots still on her feet, regardless of the fact that she’s sound asleep, seemingly dead to the world. His eyes water as he looks at her hair...short ‘nough that it’s above her shoulders and just long ‘nough to cover her ears.

He bites his lip as he watches her, leaning against the doorframe, using it to keep his tall body standing up straight. He looks over the girl, looking for any visible injuries, and lets out a soft sigh of relief when he doesn’t see any on her tall, lanky body. A body that looks so small with the way she’s laying.

She’s pressed up against the wall, back straight and not an inch between it and the wall. Her knees are bent at a 45-degree angle with her feet pressed flat against the wall and a pillow between her knees. She has a small bag tucked under her head as a pillow and hers tight against her chest in an almost fighting stance, prepared for anything, and one hand slightly under the bag she’s using as a pillow.

But. She’s still sound asleep and an old, brown Carhartt jacket covers her body. The worn jacket with a small Bald Eagle and the word “SOAR” under it stitched into the fabric above the right breast pocket, no doubt still three sizes too big for her if the triple rolled sleeves have anything to say about it.

Negan chokes back a sob as he sees her, instantly recognizing the old jacket. He remembers the love she had for the thing when he’d often find her snuggled up, napping and feeling safe in it, after he’d take it off. His heart clenches as he realizes that some things never change. Even if she’s gotten older and can’t completely hide under it anymore.

He watches as she jerks in her sleep, clearly having a nightmare. It breaks his heart even more. He’s always hated seeing her in pain, and that included her having nightmares. Without thinking, acting on pure instinct, he softly pads across the room, wearing only his jeans and a white t-shirt, similar to what the girl’s wearing, but cleaner and whiter.

Settling his tall, lanky frame on the edge of the bed by her knees, he places a large hand on her knee as a way to comfort her. It was one way he could always get her to relax and calm down. Not even half a second after he lays his hand on her knee, he’s got a knife pressing against his throat, just below his Adam’s apple.

He lifts his eyes up and finds himself staring into a pair of panic-filled, yet determined muddy brown eyes.

“Hands. Off. Now.” Her sleepy voice hisses.

He swallows deeply and croaks out a quiet “Lu?”

He lifts his hand off her knee and holds them up so she can see ‘em. The girl tenses more, digging the knife deeper into his skin, nicking it slightly, for a moment before she processes what he said and the sound of his voice. Negan watches as her eyes widen and her fingers drop the knife. In one quick movement, she’s in his lap, arms ‘round his torso, face buried in his neck as she cries.

“Daddy.” She sobs.

He just holds her, trying not to break down himself. He holds her close, feeling her body tremble and shake in his arms. He breathes in deeply and tightens his arms ‘round her.

He rubs her back and murmurs softly in her ear. “Daddy’s got you, Princess. You’re safe now. I fuckin’ promise.”

He kisses her head and holds his little girl, who he’d thought was dead, tightly in his arms. His heart breaks as he hears her sobs, and feels them soaking into his shirt. He doesn’t care ‘bout that. Or the fact that the young girl in his arms is finally 14. He finally has his daughter in his arms, for the first since she was 6 years old.

He reaches a hand up and softly scratches her scalp, massaging lightly. His little girl always loved when he’d do that as he read her a bedtime story. Back before the world ended.

“Daddy’s here, sweet pea.” He assures her, and feels her arms tighten ‘round him. “I’m so fuckin’ proud of you, princess. You made it this far. You’ve survived.”

He hears her let out another sob that twists his heart as he feels the walls he built many years ago crumble. He holds her close, letting her cry as much as she wants to. He doesn’t say a word, just holds her to him, rubbing her back and massaging her scalp. A few times, he does murmur a soft “Breathe” in her ear when she gasps for air from crying so hard.

He scoots back on the mattress, leaning against the wall, holding his little girl, keeping her safe in his arms. He feels her cling to him tighter, burying her face against the side of his neck as he moves across the bed and gets comfortable.

“Shhhh. It’s ok, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere. I’m just getting comfortable and I’m not letting you go til you’re ready.” He whispers softly.

“Never.” Her sob strained voice murmurs against him.

He kisses her head, understanding that one word. “I’ll never let you go again, baby. Daddy’s here. He’s not going anywhere and he’s gonna always protect you. I swear, sweetheart.”

Feeling her nod against him, he takes a deep breath in, knowing he’d die before he ever let something happen to her again. He ain’t gonna lose her again. Never again. After an hour, he finally feels her body stop trembling in his arms as she relaxes against him, sniffling every so often as she stops crying.

He brings his hand up and cups her cheek, lifting it and gently wipes her tears away, before placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

“I’ve got you, princess.” He murmurs.

She nods against him and leans into his touch. She looks at him, her eyes dancing across his face before she lets out a soft giggle.

“You got old.”

Negan’s eyes widen and he barks out a laugh. “Thanks for stating the fuckin’ obvious there, kiddo. That kinda happens. ‘Specially when the world fuckin’ ends. You got old too!”

Her eyes widen. “Did not! I’m still your little girl!”

He smiles. “You’ll always be daddy’s little girl, Lucille. Have been from the moment you were born and had me wrapped ‘round that little finger of yours.”

She lets out another soft giggle that heals his broken heart and hugs him tighter.

“I missed you, dad.” She whispers.

“I missed you too, sweetheart. So. Fuckin’. Much. Losing you and your mama...it fuckin’ killed me. I died inside when I lost y’all.”

She lifts her head and stares at him. “Why didn’t you come lookin’ for us?”

Negan lets out a shaky breath. “I did, sweetheart. Despite the fact that I watched you, my sweet little angel, and your mama, the love of my life, get swept up in the middle of that herd. I killed every single one of those dead fucks, despite my injuries. When I was done, I didn’t see y’all anywhere and then I passed out from blood loss and ended up in a coma. It took me 3 weeks to wake up. When I did, I went back out there, searching for y’all. I went back to our house, our rendezvous points, everywhere I could fuckin’ think of. I did that for years. Despite every fuckin’ thing suggesting y’all were dead. Each time I went out and didn’t find y’all, I died more and more on the inside. I never once gave up on y’all. I’ve just gotten a little busy lately to go searching as much as I used to. My people have been getting attacked, slaughtered.”

Lu nods slowly, taking in words. “Mom and I...we thought you were dead. We saw you go down after you took ‘em all down. Ma pulled me into a building and we hid. We were gonna come get you but then you just collapsed, seemingly dead to the world...and then some of the dead came out from the back of the store we were in and we had to run. We ended up in a little community named Alexandria, and we’ve been there for the last 8 years. Mama wasn’t in any shape to stay on the run. Not with me being so young and not in her condition. So, we stayed. The three of us. We’ve tried to go out but the new leader doesn’t let anyone that’s not his people go out.”

Negan’s breath gets caught in his throat at her words. Lucille notices how her dad’s entire body tenses up and she lifts her head. Not quite realizing the exact reason he tenses, but thinking it’s one thing. She gently pats his cheek.

“Don’t worry, daddy. Mama’s ok. So is Ike. He’s adorable. And looks just like you.” She assures him, thinking that’s why he tensed up a moment ago.

Negan eyes widen and he gasps at her new words, even if his brain’s still caught up on the fact that she’s been living in Alexandria.

“Ike? He? Your mama’s alive? Alexandria?” He stumbles over his words.

Lucille giggles and nods. “Yea! Mama found out she was pregnant a few months after we got separated from you with the herd and thought you were dead. She had a little boy, Issac, almost 5 months after we got to Alexandria. The leader, Deanna, she was a sweetheart and helped mama through the pregnancy and Ike’s birth. I was so happy to be a big sister. I’ve been super protective over Ike since he was born. He looks just like you. Just...tinier and cuter.”

Negan huffs softly. “I’m still cute.”

Lu giggles. “Mama still thinks so when she looks at the photo of you she has. Or, well had.”

Negan furrows his brow. “Had?”

Lu nods and lays her head back on her father’s shoulder, not caring that she’s a teenager. She’s missed her daddy. And he still makes her feel safe. Plus, a part of her’s worried that this is all a dream and that when she wakes up, he’s gonna be gone, so she’s trying to enjoy it as much as she can.

“Yea. Had. The new leader of Alexandria, Rick...he’s a dick -” She starts.

“Language, daughter!” Negan grumbles. “But continue.”

Lu laughs. “I’m a teenager, dad. Mama does say I cuss worse than you used to. Anyway. Rick. He’s a dick. Or should I say Prick? Which would you prefer?”

Negan narrows his eyes at her. “Neither, but as you pointed out, you’re a teenager. I don’t expect you to listen to me.”

She giggles. “I’ll always listen to you…when I wanna. I’ll stick with Prick. It sounds better. Rick the Prick.”

Negan laughs. “I like that. Rick the Prick. Just don’t tell your mama I’m letting you cuss. She’ll kick my ass. And I’m quite fond of my ass. Ok. Continue.”

He smiles when he hears her laugh and hugs her tighter to him as he listens to his little girl, who’s not so little anymore.

“He found the picture after it fell outta mama’s pocket one day a couple of weeks ago. He looked at when one of the guys from one of the other communities saw it too and gasped. They apparently recognized you in the photo. He told Rick ‘that’s Negan. Just he’s older now. And he carries a bat around. But that’s him.’. Rick lost his shit and demanded to know who’s photo it was, yelling that there was a traitor amongst the community. Mama and I never said a word. We’d seen him kill outta spite and we weren’t gonna do anything to bring his anger towards us. Mama cried ‘cause she no longer had the photo. I snuck out one night...last week? I was gonna go back to our house...try to get another photo for mama. I don’t like seeing her sad, daddy. I made it there after two days. Got the photo, and was heading back home when I heard a truck drive by...I hid in the woods behind the house and when I heard the truck engine turn off, I made a run for it. I ended up getting swarmed by a bunch of the dead a few hours later...I was almost done taking them out when a bunch of gunfire rang out...taking out the rest. The creepy dude with the pornstache demanded my shit, and I told him to fuck off and started walking away. He grabbed my arm, told me I should be grateful for him saving my life. I flipped him off and then punched him in the nose when he wouldn’t let go of me.”

Negan lets out a snort of laughter. “That’s my girl.”

“He got really pissed off and said that a man named Negan would deal with me, and that I’d better pray that I didn’t piss the “Big Boss Man” off. I didn’t really pay attention to that part as soon as he said “Negan”. You don’t exactly have a common name, dad, and I just got really overwhelmed, plus I was fuckin’ exhausted. I guess I just passed out and when I woke up, I was in this room. I’ve only been allowed to leave for meals. And that’s it.” Lucille continues.

Negan takes in her story and hugs her closer. He grinds his teeth as he thinks ‘bout Rick hurting his family. His wife. His daughter. And the son he’s never met. He grinds them harder when he thinks ‘bout Simon putting his hands on his little girl, regardless of the reason. Looking down at Lucille, he unclenches his jaw.

“I’ll deal with Rick the Prick. You can guaran-fuckin’-tee that. He’s got a shit storm coming his way. Now, where’d Simon grab you? Let me see, sweetheart.” He says, in a soft voice.

Lucille lifts the sleeve of the shirt she’s wearing and Negan chuckles as he realizes something.

“Damn, kid. You just stole all your daddy’s clothes, didn’t you? First my jacket, now my shirt?” He teases.

Lu giggles. “Shut up, dad! You know that jacket makes me feel safe. And it was laundry day when I snuck out so when I got to our old house, I changed into a cleaner shirt. I realized it was yours ‘cause it still smelled like you.”

Negan chuckles. “You’re adorable, sweet pea.”

He smiles, showing off his dimples as his little girl blushes. The smile fades a little when he sees the handprint wrapping ‘round her upper arm. He brings a hand up and gently traces it, growling low in his throat.

“I’m gonna kill that fucker for laying a hand on you.” He mutters.

Lucille’s eyes widen and she stares at him. “No, dad. You can’t.”

Negan raises a brow as he looks at her. “And why the fuck can’t I? He put his hand on a woman. My own fuckin’ daughter.”

“He didn’t know I’m your kid, dad.”

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter. I have a strict rule ‘bout no one laying a hand on a woman, hurting them. Same goes with kids.”

“Dad. Don’t. Ok? I don’t want you hurting someone ‘cause of me.”

Negan stares at her. “My sweet little Lulu. I would kill any fucker who ever laid a hand on you in a way that you did not want to be touched. You are my little girl. Even if you are a teenager. You’re still my little girl. I’d have done it before the world ended, even if it meant going to jail. And I’d definitely fuckin’ do it now, ‘cause I’m the Big Man in charge. And no one, I repeat, fuckin’ no one, lays a hand on my family.”

Lu hugs him tight. “Well...you might kill a fucker for touching me...but I’d kill a fucker if I don’t get something to eat soon.”

Negan chuckles and hugs her, kissing her head. “C’mon, squirt. Let’s get you outta this boring ass room, up to mine, and while you shower and get cleaned up, I’ll have some fucker bring up some food. Maybe I’ll have Simon do it. If I can’t kill him, I’ll just make his life fuckin’ miserable.”

His daughter laughs at the smirk on his face and hugs him again before climbing off his lap and standing up.

“As long as you don’t kill him.” She says grinning. “No. C’mon. You promised me food and a shower. Chop chop, old man.”

Negan grunts and flips her off. “I’ll show you old man, kid. I’ll still whoop your ass.”

Lucille laughs. “Nah uh! C’mon. Think ‘bout it. You get to enjoy all the perks of having a teenage daughter!”

Negan eyes widen with a scary thought and he stares at her as he stands off the bed. “So fuckin’ help me. You’d better not have a fuckin’ boyfriend! You’re too fuckin’ young for that shit!”

She laughs as she grabs her stuff. “Nah, dad. I don’t like boys.”

Negan lets out a deep breath. “Thank fuck for that. You’re too fuckin’ young!”

She laughs and decides to tease him. “Go on, old man. Lead the way to your room. I need food. I’ll tell you ‘bout the girl I have a crush on.”

Negan whips his head around to look at her so fast she can’t help but giggle, not surprised if her dad gave himself whiplash.

“I don’t give a fuck if you like dicks or not. You could like both for all I care. That don’t bother me. Lord knows I don’t have a problem with playing for both teams, but you are too fuckin’ young to date anyone. You can date when you’re my age!”

“But, daaaaaaaaaaddddddddddd! You’re older than dinosaurs!”

Negan gives her a glare without any heat behind it. “Watch it, young lady. I will ground your ass and not think twice ‘bout it.”

She giggles as she walks outta the room. “Mama said y’all were 16 when y’all started dating!”

“That’s different! You’re my daughter!” He says, following after her leading her down the hallway, ignoring the looks from his people at his proclamation. “No dating, young lady!”

One of his men snickers and Negan rounds on him, pinning him to the wall by his throat.

“Something fuckin’ funny, asshole?” He hisses.

“Dad! Stop!” Lu says, tugging on Negan’s arm.

The man shakes his head as he stares at the boss man and croaks. “No, sir. I just….”

Negan glares and lowers the man back to his feet. “You just what, fucker?”

“Remember when my little girl was at that age. I know what you’re going through. That’s all.” He says, rubbing his throat.

Negan eyes widen. “Oh...sorry ‘bout the whole pinning you by the fuckin’ throat. She’s just...she’s my little girl.”

The man nods and smiles softly. “No worries, Sir, and I understand. I’ve done the same thing a time or two before. But, don’t worry, Sir. I’ll make sure no-one messes with your girl.”

Negan raises a brow. “Yea? What’s your job here?”

“Janitorial.”

“Not anymore. You’re a Savior now.”

“Really? Even though I’m an old fuck?”

Negan chuckles softly. “You’re a Savior, man. Doesn’t mean you have to go on runs. I’m sure I can find another task for you, but you’re a Savior. You offered up to protect my daughter just ‘cause, so that says a lot. Hell, I might have you become my new right-hand man. I need one who won’t lay a hand on my girl. What do you say?”

The man’s eyes widen. “Really? What ‘bout Simon?”

Negan smirks. “I’ll deal with him. He’ll think twice next time before he lays a hand on a woman or a kid. Let alone my kid.”

The man nods. “Well, then, sir. I’d be honored to be your right-hand man.”

“Thanks, Eli. Now, do you mind doing me a favor? Run and fetch Simon. Have him bring two dinner plates to my room, and when you get done with that, stop by the Commissary and grab some stuff for kid? I don’t think she wants to wear the same clothes she’s been wearing for a week. We’ll be in my room. I got 8 years to catch up on that I missed of my daughter’s life.”

Eli smiles and nods. “Yes, sir. Of course.”

Negan smiles and pats the older man’s cheek before turning to Lu and hooking his arm ‘round her shoulder.

“C’mon, kid. You smell worse than I do.” He jokes which just earns him an elbow to the gut and a soft laugh.

“Shut it, old man!”

Eli watches and smiles as the boss man takes the teenager upstairs, the two of them laughing, and joking around. He goes to do what he was ordered to, more than happy to do so. He wouldn’t ever say anything, but doing janitorial work in the Sanctuary for the better portion of the last decade had not been too kind on his aging bones.

Being the right-hand man to the boss man would be great. He really was honored. He liked and respected the man. He didn’t agree with some of the things he’d done in the past, but he’d understand. ‘Specially once he’d seen that lost, devastated, and haunted look in his eyes. He recognized it immediately and just knew, somehow, that the man had lost his family.

But, now that Negan had his daughter back, Eli was sure things were looking up for the younger man. And he’d make sure Negan never had that look back in his eyes.

***

Upstairs, Negan shows Lu ‘round his room and living quarters.

“After you get fuckin’ cleaned up, and fuckin’ eat something, you can pick out your own room.” He smiles.

Lu smiles a little and nods slowly. Negan catches the look of sadness that flashes across her face.

“What is it, sweetheart? Do you not want your own room?” He asks, worriedly.

“I do…” She says softly.

“But?”

“But...I miss mama and Ike...besides...what if your girlfriend comes up here?”

Negan’s eyes widen. “Girlfriend? What’re you talking ‘bout, kiddo?”

“Whenever I’d go to get meals over the last few days, I’d always hear women say how much they wanted to be your wife. That there was no way a man like you could still be single.”

Negan sighs and hugs his daughter tight. “Sweetheart, not that I really wanna discuss my sex life, existent or not, with you, I promise you, I don’t have a girlfriend. And I only have one wife. That’s your mama. She’s the only one for me, ok? When we got separated all those years ago, my heart was broken. And it never healed. Your mama was, and is, all I need. I ain’t even looked at another woman. Your mama has and will always have my heart.”

Lu looks up. “Promise?”

He kisses her head. “I promise, kiddo. And, I can also promise you, we’re gonna get your mama and your brother here as soon as possible, ok? Then we can be a family again.”

His heart melts at the happiest smile his teenage daughter gives him before she ducks outta his arms and walks to the bathroom, ready to take a shower. Before she shuts the door, she looks back at him and smiles again.

“I love you, dad. And, I’m glad you’re still alive.”

Negan grins from ear to ear. “I love you too, kiddo. Now, go wash your stinky ass.”

She laughs and flips him off. Once the door’s closed, Negan flops back on his bed, his heart now beating happily and strongly for the first time in years as all the walls that once blocked it lay in a crumpled mess. He strokes a hand over his face and then looks at the wedding ring on his left ring finger that’s been there for well over 15 years.

He grins more and mumbles to himself. “My wife. My daughter. My son.”

He sits up straight, laughing softly. “I have a fuckin’ son! And they’re all alive. I’m getting my family back.”

***

The following morning, Negan does a happy dance in the solitude of his own private bathroom as he gets ready for the day. Nothing could get in his fuckin’ way or ruin his fuckin’ good ass mood. Last night had been one of the best. He and Lu had talked til she fell asleep, snuggled up to his side like she used to do all those years ago when she was still only a couple feet tall.

He’d carried her to the bedroom she’d picked out after her shower and they’d eaten dinner. He’d tucked her, kissed her forehead, and turned the lights off. The routine coming back to him as naturally as breathing. He’d gone to bed with a smile on his face as he told himself that he’d be getting his wife and son back the following day.

Which is why he was currently doing a happy dance as he brushed his teeth, standing in his boxers, and humming ‘round the toothbrush in his mouth. You’d never guess that the dead walk ‘round outside, that’s how happy Negan was. For the first time in the 8 years, he finally had a damn good reason to get outta bed in the morning.

He raises his brow, spitting in the sink as he catches his daughter’s gaze in the bathroom mirror.

“Mornin’, sunshine!” He says.

She just grumbles and flips him off. “Too fuckin’ early for this shit, dad!”

He laughs. “Not a fuckin’ mornin’ person, are you, sweetheart?”

She shakes her head and flips him off again. “No. I’m fuckin’ not and I don’t see how the fuck you are! You’re an old man! Shouldn’t you still be asleep? Snoring?”

He laughs, rinsing his mouth out and spitting again, before walking over to her and kissing her head.

“Normally, I ain’t a mornin’ person. Fuckin’ hate getting up early. And, I don’t fuckin’ snore, thank you very fuckin’ much! No one’s complained in the last 8 years.” He teases. “Besides, today, sweet pea, today’s the day we’re gonna go get your mama and brother. So, hurry the fuck up, get dressed, and then we’ll head out.”

He smiles as he watches her eyes light up and a sleepy smile spreads across her face.

“Really?”

He smiles and nods. “Mmhhmm! Now, c’mon. Chop chop! You wanna wear one of my shirts, kiddo? That way you can leave the jacket here, safe and sound?”

“Please?”

“Of course. Brush your teeth. Get ready and I’ll bring you one of my shirts once I get pants on.”

She smiles. “Thanks, dad.”

He smiles and nearly tears up when she gives him a tight hug with a whispered “I love you” before going to get ready. Negan continues his little happy dance as sets a shirt on the bathroom handle before he gets dressed in his standard grey jeans tucked into boots, white t-shirt under his signature leather jacket, and the beautiful red scarf that had been a birthday present from his beautiful wife many years ago, tucked securely ‘round his neck.

He picks up his trusted barbed wire baseball bat and softly ran his fingers around her handle. He’d named it Lucille since she had helped him picked it out ‘cause she wanted her “daddy to have the besses bats in da whole wide wowld” as she told him in her cute little 5 year old voice the day they’d gone shopping when he found out he was gonna be coaching the baseball team at the high school again the next year.

After the world ended, he’d kept the bat close, using it to defend his family, keeping his girls safe, and when they got separated, the scarf and the bat were his way of keeping his family close to him. To remind him of the love, of his family, and the good things he’d had in his life.

“Dad?”

Negan jumps and places Lucille in her rightful place on his shoulder as he turns to look at his daughter, who’s fully dressed and in similar attire, sans the leather jacket and scarf. Her knife strapped tightly to her thigh.

“Yea?”

She giggles. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes. What the fuck’s going on in that old head of yours?”

He laughs and flips her off. “Just remembering the day you helped me pick Lucille out.”

Her brows nearly reach her forehead as she looks questioningly at her father. “Pick Lucille out?”

He nods as he opens the door to lead her out to the hallway so they can get a move on with their day. He explains as they walk down to the trucks.

“Lucille,” He gestures to the bat. “I named her after you when we all got separated. The scarf and the bat...they were my ways of keeping you and your mama close to me. Besides, Lucille here is just as much of a badass as I knew you’d be when you grew up.”

His daughter laughs. “You’re weird, dad. But I think it’s sweet. I mean, I did keep your brown jacket. Ike has the whistle you used to use when you coached. Drives mama crazy when he blows it all the damn time. Mama has your….well she has a lot of your stuff.”

Negan smiles at her words and slings an arm ‘round her shoulders as they walk. His smile grows when he realizes she’s almost as tall as him, even though she’s only 14. Holding the door open for her he leads her out the truck and explains the rules for going outta beyond the walls of the Sanctuary as they walk.

“I’m telling you these, kid, ‘cause I don’t want you to get hurt. I know you can handle yourself if need be. But, I can’t risk losing you again. So, please just stick by my side. And don’t do anything stupid. I will ground your ass the moment we get back. Understand?” He says, giving her a stern look while opening the truck door.

She nods, climbing up and into the big vehicle. “I’ll listen. But only ‘cause I don’t wanna lose you either.”

“Good girl.”

He kisses her head before shutting the door and going ‘round to his side. As soon as he’s in, he glances at her.

“Seatbelt on. Now.”

She rolls her eyes but does as he says. “It’s the apocalypse, dad. I don’t think a seatbelt’s gonna do much to save me.”

He stares at her. “Listen, I’ve already been in a deadly wreck that I should not have survived. But I did. And, had I been wearing my seatbelt, I wouldn’t have been thrown through the fuckin’ windshield.”

Her eyes widen as she stares at him in shock, dread filling the pit of her stomach at the thought of her dad in a wreck so bad that he went flying through the windshield.

“Yea. It was ‘bout as fuckin’ fun as it fuckin’ sounds. And, if I tell you to do somethin’, you fuckin’ do it. It ain’t me just being a father and pulling the “I’m in fuckin’ charge, you listen to me” bullshit card. No. It’s ‘cause I’m trying to fuckin’ protect you.”

She nods fast. “Yes, sir.”

He gives her a small smile before he buckles himself up and cranks the engine.

“Now. Let’s go get your mama and brother. I got a little boy to meet and the love of my life to kiss!”

Lu groans, grossed out at the thought of her parents kissing. Negan laughs and tells her to get used to it. Once the gates open up, he drives through and with a wave of his hand at his a few of his people, the gates are closed. Negan and Lu talk for a bit while he drives. Eventually, though, he listens to her directions to the community that’s caused him and his family so much grief.

As they roll up on the community, Negan glances over at his daughter, noticing and feeling the anxiety rolling off her. He lays a calming hand on her knee.

“It’s gonna be ok, kiddo. I ain’t gonna let nothing happen to you, your mama, or Ike, ok?” He assures her.

She nods slowly and fidgets with one of the holes in her jeans. Negan brings the truck to a stop outside the gates of Alexandria, and turns to look at his little girl who suddenly looks like a little kid instead of the badass teenager he knows she is. Turning the engine off and tucking the keys in his pocket, he unbuckles them both and pulls her in for a tight hug.

“You trust me, don’t you, kid?” He asks softly.

She nods against him, her arms snaking ‘round him. “Of course.”

He kisses her head. “Then you know I’d die before I let anything happen to you. Nothing’s gonna happen. I’m gonna set Rick the Prick fuckin’ straight, teach him he’s messing with the wrong man, with the wrong family, and he ain’t gonna bother us again.”

“What if he does?”

“I’ll fuckin’ kill him then.”

Lu jerks her head up and looks at him. “What?”

He nods. “I will. If he messes with my family, with what’s mine, he’ll regret it and become a munchie snack for dead.”

“Dad, he has a little girl.”

“Good. Then he should understand the things a father would do to protect his daughter.”

She sighs softly and nods, hugging him tight again. “I just don’t wanna lose you again.”

Negan smiles and tightens his arms ‘round her. “Listen, sweet pea. I wear a leather jacket, I have Lucille, and my nutsack is made of steel. I am not dying until I am damn good and ready.”

She giggles. “That’s gross. I didn’t need to know that ‘bout your nuts, dad. But I get it. You ain’t dying til you’re ready.”

He chuckles. “Ex-fuckin’-actly! And I ain’t gonna be ready for at least another 50 years. I gotta live to at least 100!”

He smiles when he hears her laugh and lets the mumble retort slide. He kisses her head before leaning back.

“C’mon. Let’s go be badasses and get our family!”

She smiles and nods, getting outta the truck. She waits for him by the gates, brow raised when he starts whistling and bangs the barb-wire bat against the metal gate.

“Little Pig. Little Pig. Let. Me. In!” He calls out in a sing-song voice, grinning at his daughter’s reaction.

A moment later, the gate opens up, and a somewhat nervous looking man looks at him, glancing at Lu before turning his attention back to Negan.

“Ummm...who are you?” The man, who Lu knows to be Spencer, asks.

“Oh, you better be joking?” He smirks, grinning at the man, watching as his eyes widen a little bit in fear. “Negan…” He gestures with his bat to his daughter. “Lucille…”

“I know who she is. What is she doing with you?”

“That’s none of your fuckin’ business, asswipe. Now, be a good little boy. Let us the fuck in and go get Rick the fuckin’ Prick.”

Spencer sighs but opens the gate to let the father and daughter in before he closes it and scurries off to go get the leader. Negan smirks as he swings his Lucille up on his shoulder and wraps his arms ‘round his daughter’s shoulders. Walking into the community, Negan looks around.

“Holy shit! It’s the fuckin’ apocalyptic suburbs!” He laughs, grinning when Lu giggles and shakes her head.

“Shut up, dad.” She jabs a finger in his side, between two ribs but it doesn’t do much since the leather jacket’s in the way.

Negan laughs. “C’mon. Let’s go see what this fuckin’ Prick’s all ‘bout.”

“That’s him.”

Looking to see where his daughter’s pointing, Negan raises a brow.

“That’s the fucker that managed to get a group together to slaughter 30 of my men, women and children? I’ll be fuckin’ damned.” He mutters.

Lu looks up at him, eyes wide. “He...he did that? Kids?”

Negan sighs and nods. “Yea. That attack I mentioned yesterday, it came from a group known as Alexandria. That’s why I zoned out the moment you mentioned that’s where you were staying.”

“Oh, dad. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Like I said, Rick doesn’t like anyone who’s not part of his group,” She gestures to the dozen or so people surrounding the community’s leader. “And he doesn’t tell anyone who’s not them what’s going on.”

Negan tugs her a little closer. “I know, sweet pea. I know my little girl could never be a part of something like that. I know I’ve done some shitty things in the last decade, but they’ve all had a purpose. I’d never just murder a bunch of innocents. Let alone fuckin’ kids.”

Lu nods and bites the inside of her lip as she stares at Rick, giving him a look that would kill if it were possible. Rick walks over, looking at her.

“Lucille? What’s going on? What are you doing with him? He’s a murderer!” He exclaims, going based off the stories from Gregory over at Hilltop.

Lu shrugs her dad’s arm off her shoulders and stands up to her full height, looking the former sheriff in the eyes.

“No. You, Rick, are a murderer! How could you kill 30 innocent people? Men, I can kinda understand! But women? CHILDREN? HOW? You say you wanna protect us, but then you kill kids!” She glares.

“How do you know ‘bout that?” He asks, shocked.

“Because! Unlike you, my father doesn’t lie to his kids!”

“Your father?”

Negan smirks and steps up next to Lu again, pride swelling in his chest at his girl. He glares at Rick.

“Howdy there, Sheriff.” He smirks. “You were a sheriff, weren’t? Yea. I bet you fuckin’ were. You just got that arrogant “I’m above the law ‘cause I am the law” look fuckin’ written all over you! And, yes. Her father wouldn’t lie to her. Ok. He might’ve lied ‘bout running outta ice cream or some other silly shit before the world went to shit, but he wouldn’t fuckin’ lie ‘bout another man killing kids. Oooo. I can just see the little wheels in your hamster brain spinning real fuckin’ quick. I bet you’re trying to figure out how the fuck I know ‘bout her father. Take a fuckin’ guess.”

Rick stares at him, mouth slightly open, shock all over his face.

“No. Seriously. Take a fuckin’ guess. Rick the fuckin’ Prick.” Negan hisses.

“You…her…?” He stutters.

“Winner winner fuckin’ chicken dinner! You guessed it. I’m her fuckin’ father, you prick! And, I dunno ‘bout you, but I would do any-fuckin’-thing to protect my little girl. Even if it meant fuckin’ tell her ‘bout some damn fuck who killed kids!”

Rick’s eyes widen. “You’re Negan…”

“Right a-fuckin’-gain, Prick! Yea. I’m the man you tried to fuckin’ kill when you decided to go all ghung-ho and attacked my fuckin’ outpost! All based off some fuckin’ story from a man with a pair of loose fuckin’ lips that’ll spill whatever they can if it means protecting his sorry fuckin’ ass! I sure hope you ain’t killed any-fuckin’-one else based off a lie!”

“I...we were...I have people to protect!”

“Don’t care!” Negan says in a singsong voice. “I have people to fuckin’ protect too, Prick! Which is why I don’t go killing a fuck ton of fuckin’ people all whilly fuckin’ nilly!”

“I-”

Rick doesn’t get another word in before Lu hauls off and decks him, her father’s earlier words finally processed in her brain. The group of folks standing around all gasp at the turn of events.

“What the hell?!” Rick gasps, clutching his nose.

“YOU TRIED TO KILL MY FATHER?!” She yells.

Negan’s eyes widen. “Ho-ly sh-it! Rick, you done fucked the fuck up! Don’t you know not to piss off Daddy’s little girl? Fuck. She ain’t seen me in 8 years and she’s still fuckin’ protective over me!”

Lu raises a brow at him before turning back to Rick. She hauls off to deck him again before Negan gently curls his fingers ‘round her wrist with a shake of his head. She sighs and nods, crossing her arms across her chest. Negan kisses her head.

“Good girl. Go get your mama and brother for me, yeah?” He asks, in a soft voice.

She nods and kicks Rick’s shin before storming off to do as she was asked. Negan smirks and pokes his tongue out as he watches her.

“Yep. She’s definitely still Daddy’s little girl.” He chuckles and turns back to Rick. “Alright. Here’s how it’s gonna fuckin’ work, Prick.”

Rick shakes his head and cuts him off. “No. I’m not listening to a word you have to say.”

“Oh, you fuckin’ better listen. I came here with every intention of not laying a damn hand on anyone, you included. Because that’s just the fuckin’ gentleman I am! Now, my daughter hauling off and decking you? I didn't plan on it, but I ain’t sorry it happened. You pissed her the fuck off, and I can tell she’s got my temper. In fact, I still think you got off fuckin’ easy considering what you did. So, either you can either fuckin’ listen to what I’m ‘bout to fuckin’ tell you and no one gets hurt, or I should say no one gets hurt more. Or, I can kill one, just one, of your fuckin’ people and you’ll still listen to what I’m ‘bout to fuckin’ say. Your fuckin’ choice. You have five seconds to fuckin’ decide.”

Rick glares at Negan with his head tilted back slightly to stop the bleeding from his nose.

“Five.”

Negan raises a brow.

“Four.”

Rick glares.

“Three”

Lu walks over with a woman and a young kid.

“Two.”

Negan smirks and tightens his grip on Lucille, getting ready to move her off his shoulder.

“O-”

“Fine! Say what you fuckin’ want to say!”

Negan smirks and relaxes his grip on Lucille, letting her drop down to hang by his side. He stands up straight, towering over Rick a bit. His tongue darts out again, between two rows of insanely perfect white teeth and wets his bottom lip.

“Here’s what’s gonna fuckin’ happen, Rick the fuckin’ Prick. I’m gonna be taking my family. Yes, I have a fuckin’ family. A wife. A daughter. And even a son that I get to meet for the first fuckin’ time. I’m gonna take them home with me. I’m not gonna harm a hair on your head. My daughter might, but I won’t. Because I won’t hurt a little girl’s daddy unless he truly deserves it. Why, you ask? BECAUSE I’M NOT A FUCKIN’ MONSTER! And, my little girl asked me not kill you, because, despite you fuckin’ deserving to be a snack for the fuckin’ dead that are on the outsides of these fuckin’ walls after what you fuckin’ did, you still have a little girl. And every little princess needs her daddy at some point. And I’m not gonna fuckin’ take away from your daughter what mine had snatched from her 8 fuckin’ years ago. When I leave, you’re not gonna fuckin’ try and fuckin’ track me down to try and fuckin’ kill me again. That shit won’t fly. You try, and I WILL SHUT THAT SHIT DOWN! Don’t make me take your daughter’s daddy away from her. I don’t want to do that, but I fuckin’ will if I fuckin’ have to. After I leave, you’re gonna be a fuckin’ good boy, go back to your fuckin’ house, and be a father for your children, “He glances up to see a woman with dreads, keeping a watchful eye over the former sheriff. Negan nods to her to show he ain’t gonna hurt her man, before he looks back at Rick. “And by the looks of it, husband to a woman who is too damn good for your sorry ass. Not trying to run ‘round, playing fuckin’ hero. People are fuckin’ resources, Rick, something you clearly fuckin’ fail to grasp the concept of. You can lead your people, get supplies, and shit to live. You play by the fuckin’ rules, and our paths won’t ever fuckin’ cross again. You don’t play by the rules, there will be consequences. This ain’t baseball, Rick. There aren’t three strikes and you’re out. No. You get one chance. You fuck up and disregard the rules, Lucille here will be dishing up some bloody homeruns, and you will NOT like the score. Am I understood?”

Rick glares at him.

“AM I FUCKIN’ UNDERSTOOD, RICK?” He yells.

The sheriff sighs and nods slowly. “Yea.”

“What the fuck was that?” He cups his ear. “I didn’t quite hear you. My daughter says I’m getting to be an old man, and maybe she’s fuckin’ right. So, I’m gonna need you to speak the fuck up, Rick!”

“Yes, sir! You’re understood!”

Negan grins and steps back, patting Rick’s shoulder. “That’s a good boy. Now, run the fuck along and get that nasty ass blood off your face.”

Rick sighs before walking away with Michonne following him. Negan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them, his eyes land on a little girl with curly blonde hair. He kneels down, ignoring the popping of joints. He gently lays his bat down on the ground and looks the little girl.

“C’mere, sweetie.” He says in a soft voice.

The girl looks up at a young boy, who Negan can tell is her big brother. The boy glares at Negan for a moment til the man gives him a gentle nods and an understanding is reached between them. The boy looks at his little sister and gently nudges her, letting her know it’s ok to go to the tall man crouched down.

She does a mixture of a waddle and a run to get to Negan. He smiles as she giggles softly when he gently scoops her up in his arms, standing once again. He tickles her belly and kisses her cheek, making the girl blush and giggle.

“You are just the cutest little angel! Yes you are!” He coos softly. “What’s your name, sweetie?”

She giggles. “”Ju!”

“Her name’s Judith. She goes by Judy too.” The young boy says, walking a little closer, clearing protective of his younger sister.

Negan smiles and tickles Judith. “Such a pretty name for such a pretty little sweetheart! You your daddy’s little princess?”

She giggles and nods fast, curls bouncing on her head. She wraps his little arms ‘round her tummy, giggling and babbling a little bit, telling him all about how she’s a princess. Negan smiles and just listens, nodding along with her.

“Well, I have to agree with you, sweetie. You are definitely a princess!” He coos, making her squeal with giggles. “Now, you go be the bestest princess in the whole world, ok? Always keep your daddy and big brother on their toes!”

She giggles and nods. “Otay!”

Negan smiles and hands her back to her brother, looking at him. “You’re both good kids. Even if your dad can be shitty. You’re both good. And, I want you to know that I would never, ever harm a kid, ok? You have my fuckin’ word on that. I would rather die before I had to hurt a kid. All I want is to be with my family. I’ve missed the last 8 years of my daughter’s life. Last time I saw her, she was just a few years older than your sister here. And, I’ve never even met my son. As long as your dad doesn’t mess with me, my family, and my people again, I won’t bother him, ok? You’ll never have to see me again, unless you want to come hang out with a bunch of kids, ‘cause there are a bunch at the place I call home. Some are newborns and they range all the way up to your age and my daughter’s.”

The boy’s eyes widen as he holds his little sister. “Really?”

Negan nods and smiles. “Mmhhmm. Kids are the future, boy. And I’d protect each and every last one of them to my dying breath. And if you come over, that would include you too. I know I’m not necessarily the best person on the planet, but then again no one is these days. And, I can assure you whatever story your daddy’s been spoon fed ain’t completely true. Yes. I’ve killed. But they’ve been men who deserved it. And by that I mean they either laid a hand on a woman or a child. Or they’ve forced themselves on someone, which is a big fuckin’ no-no. Either way, I don’t kill just for the pure hell of it. I do it to protect others. You’ve had to kill to protect someone, haven’t you?”

The boy nods slowly. “My mom. She died when Judy was born. I had to kill her before she turned and killed my sister.”

Negan’s eyes widen. “Well fuckin’ shit. I wasn’t fuckin’ expecting that. I’m sorry, kid. You did what you had to in order to protect your sister. I’ve done what I’ve had to protect the people I take care of. I’m telling you this ‘cause I can tell you’ve seen some shit, more than just killing your mom, in your life. Shit no kid should have to ever see. But times change when the dead start walking. Kids have to grow up faster than they need to. But I’d do anything and everything I could to try and help them stay kids a little longer. Being an adult sucks ass. So, try to be a kid for a little longer, ok? Soak it up.”

The kid nods. “Yes, sir.”

Negan smiles a little and ruffles the boy’s hair since his sister took his hat. “Good. Now, maybe I’ll see you again if you want to come play with kids. If I don’t, just know that you’re badass, ok? And you’ve got my respect. Something not a lot of folks have.”

The boy nods fast. “Ok.”

“What’s your name, boy?”

“Carl.”

“Nice to meet you, Carl. You keep on being a badass.”

Negan grins as the boy nods fast and then leans down to kiss Judith’s hair. “Bye, Princess!”

She giggles and waves as Negan walks away, straight to the three people who mean the world to him. The reasons he has to keep on living. He watches as a little boy watches him and after a moment, runs to him, squealing happily as he leaps into the tall man’s arms, with a screeching “DADDY!” ringing through the air.

Negan tears as he catches the little boy, scooping him up in his arms, kissing his head for the first time in the kid’s life, hugging him tight.

“Hi, baby boy! I’m so glad I finally get to meet you!” He says, his voice cracking. “You been taking care of your mommy?”

The little boy smiles widely and nods fast. “I’m a big boy! And I keep mommy safe!”

Negan smiles. “I’m sure you fuckin’ do! Does daddy’s big boy have a name?”

Another toothy grin is flashed. “Issac! But mommy calls me Ike!”

“Ike? Hmmm. That sounds like a damn good name for a big boy who protects his mommy!”

Ike giggles and nods fast. “Mommy said you my daddy?”

“Your mommy would be fuckin’ right, little man. I am your daddy! Wanna know how I know I’m your daddy?”

“How?” Wide eyes and a curious face look up at him.

“Because, little man,” Negan smiles. “You have the same hair color as me.” He lightly tugs on a few strands of jet black hair. “You have the same cute dimples as me.” He gently pokes chubby little cheeks, making the boy smile widely, showing off dimples. “And! Your mommy said I’m your daddy. She’s a smart lady, and she always tells the truth!”

Ike giggles and nods fast. “Mommy does do that!”

Negan chuckles and kisses his son’s head again, doing everything in his power not to start crying as his little boy hugs him tight and murmurs against his jacket.

“Love you, daddy.”

“And, I love you too, my little man.”

His statement earns him a happy squeal and another tight hug as little legs wrap ‘round his waist. Negan tightens his arms ‘round the little human clinging to him like a fly on a strip of duct tape. He closes his eyes and savors the feeling of holding his son in his arms for the first time. Issac clings to him, the man he’s known as his daddy without having ever met him.

He knows his mommy and sister were right. This is his daddy and there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. He rubs his face against the smooth leather jacket and lets out a happy noise, before he starts crying.

“Ike?” He hears daddy’s voice ask. “What’s wrong?”

He sniffles and clings to him more. “Missed you, daddy. I happy you here now.”

His little heart nearly bursts with happiness as he feels super strong arms tighten ‘round him again and a gentle, yet heavy hand rests on his back, keeping him close. Keeping him safe. Letting him know it’s ok to relax, so he does. His little body sagging in the strong, safe arms, holding him close to a warm chest.

“Daddy’s got you, little man. You’re safe now. I fuckin’ promise.” He hears the words murmured in his ear by a gentle voice. “Daddy’s never leaving you. Never letting you go. Never gonna stop loving you.”

Ike cries harder, his tears soaking into the leather of his daddy’s jacket. He feels a soft kiss against his temple. He doesn’t realize that the words are almost identical to the words murmured to his big sister the day sister. He doesn’t care ‘bout that. All he cares ‘bout is the fact that his daddy’s here now, that he’s never gonna leave him, that’s he’s safe, and that his daddy’s always gonna love him.

He sniffles, rubbing a snotty nose across slightly wet leather, his tears slowly drying up as he grips the smooth fabric in his tiny hands, never wanting to let go. Negan holds him close, rubbing his back with soft, gentle movements, eyes closed as he presses his own nose in his son’s hair. He curls his fingers a little to lightly scratch the little boy’s back, helping him relax.

After a few moments, the two lift their heads and stare at each other. Ike reaches a hand up, running his fingers through his daddy’s beard, and giggles at the feeling.

“Dat tickles!”

Negan laughs and rubs his face back and forth across a tiny outstretched palm, making more giggles erupt from inside the tiny boy in his arms.

“Do you like it when daddy’s beard tickles your hand?” He asks, getting a super fast nod in response. “Yea? I bet it’d tickle your tummy! What do you think?”

Ike giggles and shakes his head. “Noooo!”

“I think it would! Should we find out?”

After a brief moment of thinking it over, and before the little kid can reply, he’s lifted higher in Negan’s arms as his shirt gets raised and suddenly his daddy’s beard is tickling his tummy as he blows raspberries above his belly button. Ike squeals with giggles and tries to push his shirt back down and he wiggles in Negan’s arms.

“DADDY!!! STOOOOOOOPP! DAT TICKLES!!” He squeals, giggling, his little face a bright red.

Negan laughs and gently tugs his shirt back down, covering his son’s tummy.

“I told you it’d tickle!” He chuckles.

Ike giggles. “Bad daddy!”

Negan pretends to pout like he’s been scolded, but it doesn’t last long as both he and his son start grinning from ear to ear and one giggles while the other laughs softly, kissing his head.

“Should daddy tickle mommy with his beard? Hmmm? Give her tickle kisses?” Negan asks, his eyes dancing with happiness as he glances up at the most beautiful woman in the world, then his daughter standing next to her, before looking back at his son.

“NO!” His wife says, giggling.

“YES!” Both his kids say, giggling.

Negan smirks and looks up at his wife, once more. “Sorry, baby. Looks like it’s 3 to 1. The kids voted I give you tickle kisses!”

“You do it, Negan Alexander, and you might get slapped!”

He chuckles at the threat that has no heat behind the words as he walks closer to her. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take, sweetheart. It’s been too fuckin’ long since we’ve kissed.”

He grins and steps right in front of his beautiful wife. Biting his bottom lip between his teeth, he gently sets Ike down, smiling when the little boy wraps his arms ‘round his leg, holding onto him. Negan reaches up with both hands and gently cups his wife’s cheeks, gazing into her eyes.

“Kiss me, baby, and I’ll take you home.”

A bright smile lifts her lips up as a teasing glint is seen in Leigh’s eyes as she leans into her husband’s touch.

“Promise?” She whispers.

“I fuckin’ promise promise, baby.” Negan replies, his voice a low murmur.

A moment later, their lips meet as he lowers his head and she lifts herself up on her tiptoes, both with their eyes closed. Negan moans softly against the soft lips pressed to his as he feels his wife wrap her arms ‘round his neck, pulling him closer. He drops his hands from her cheeks and lets them settle on her hips as he gives a slight tug, bringing her body closer to his.

Their lips part slightly as his tongue lightly runs along hers, begging permission for something terribly missed over the years. Gaining the needed permission, Negan lets his tongue glide across his wife’s, engaging in a dance not performed in almost a decade, but never forgotten. Slowly pulling back, he places a quick kiss on her plump lips once more before completely lifting his head and opening his eyes.

His smile turns into a lazy smirk as he takes into the sight of his well and properly kissed wife who brings a hand from ‘round his neck to rest against her lips as her eyes flutter open and gaze up him.

“So fuckin’ worth the risk of getting slapped.”

Leigh’s laughter fills his body and soul, making him feel like the happiest motherfucker on the God forsaken planet where the dead walk and the living fight each other. His son’s fit of giggles only makes him happier as he scoops him back up, perching him on his hip. His daughter’s giggle and eye roll makes him chuckle before pulling her to him, wrapping his free arm ‘round her, hugging her close.

“So...shall Daddy take his family home now?” He asks, glancing at the three most important people in his life.

A chorus of “Yes”’s ring out from the kids while his wife smirks and nods.

“You did promise promise, Daddy.”

110 notes · View notes

bebepac · 4 years

Text

WIP 08.05.2020

Couldn’t resist using a Five Gif on the 5th for my WIP Wednesday post. I’m actually trying to see what I can do with a TRR/Umbrella Academy crossover. I really want Rumor to be the cause of something crazy to happen in TRR. We’ll see what i can come up with there.

Up first, the one that got all the Drama

The Crisis

Pop’s Place Chapter 8

* still in writing process*

Jason’s fatherly instincts kicked in immediately. He pulled Mia close to him. Jason was trying hard not to cry himself as they quickly wheeled Pop’s stretcher into the hospital as they were frantically working on him.

He gently stroked Mia’s back and hair trying to soothe her. Jason glanced at Liam. His eyes welled with tears. Both the kids were terribly upset.

When Mia composed herself a little more, they walked inside the hospital and were led to a private waiting room. The room made Jason immediately nervous. It was a small room, away from the main waiting rooms, and they were the only people in this room. It looked to him like the kind of room, the hospital used to deliver bad news in. Considering how Pops was brought in, they were probably preparing for the worst case scenario. Jason wasn’t at church often as he should mind you, but in this moment he felt he had to do something.

He looked at Mia, who still had a tight grip on his hand. “Would you like to pray with me?”

Mia nodded, as more tears fell down her cheeks.

Liam could count the number of times he’d ever been to church on one hand. But he nodded as well. Because he would do anything it took to help Pops make it.

Mia reached for Liam’s hand, and they stood in a small circle.

“Heavenly Father, we come to you not for ourselves, but for someone that is extremely close to us. We come to you for Kelvin Jones, Pops. He is a loving Father and Husband, Mentor, and Friend. We ask you to wrap your arms around him and touch his heart and heal it. His work on this earth is not done yet. Heal him Lord, so that he may continue his work here on earth surrounded by all those people he loves and loves him. Please give us this miracle Lord, as our hearts and souls are heavy right now. These things we ask of you, in the name of the Father, the son, and the holy spirit. Amen.”

“Amen,” Liam and Mia said together.

Jason wiped the tears from Mia’s eyes. “I’ll stay with you as long as I can okay?”

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* next up *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Time to Say Goodbye

Fast Forward Chapter 14

*still in writing process*

(You may have been wondering what happened to Von after Chapter 9 the Round Table this chapter takes us through that as half of it is right after Liam got home from the hospital post surgery.)

“How is he?” Von asked.

“He’s asleep again. He was awake to eat, and shower, and hug the kids for a little bit. But he fell back asleep.”

“How are you Riley?”

“I’m a mess. He was dead. Liam was dead. And in those moments those minutes I thought he wasn’t coming back, something happened in me. I still love him Von, and we have to try to fix what is damaged about us. And I know in my heart that’s not what you want to hear. I know you came here for me. I knew it when you walked through the door. How you still feel about me, I feel it radiating off you. And I know you feel like you made a mistake when you left me that day in New York. But you didn’t.”

“Yes I did Riley, because I lost you.”

“I don’t think you would be where you are today with your music if I had gone to California with you Von. You wouldn’t have made it.”

“How do you figure?”

“I wouldn’t have waited this long, with so much inconsistency in my life. That part of me is just like my Dad, Von.”

“Yet you came to a foreign country for a man you had spent a night with.”

“My intent was only to spend a week here with him. A week turned into forever because I fell in love with him. I knew he was my forever. When you take vows Von, they’re for better and worse. I’ve hit the worst part. And I have to work through it with Liam, and I want to.”

Riley wiped her tears away.

“You think I’m making a mistake.”

“Yes, one that could end your life or the lives of your children. What if he doesn’t change Riley?!?!?!?! You’re pregnant, you have to think about the baby you’re carrying. Please come back with me.”

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* next up *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

The Crown Visits the South

University Student Ellie Chapter 2

*still in writing process. nearly complete*

Riley went to Triangle Town Center to get Liam a few lighter weight lighter colored outfits. It had been a while since Riley had been at a clothing retailer as all the clothes she owned were tailor made to perfectly fit her body. Riley laughed thinking of her husband still stark naked standing in front of the air conditioning unit. Riley came back to the hotel room to still find Liam naked.

"You know… it's ironic now I am finally seeing you for who you are Liam Rys. When we had that time period where both Adam and Jaiden hated wearing clothes, you insisted they got it from me. That naked time wasn't a thing you did."

Liam sat up. "Because I get it, and this feels so good. Get naked with me Riley."

"I was born in the day Liam Rys not yesterday, and we legit have 45 minutes before dinner. That’s not going to be enough time for us, if I get naked.”

“You’re right my love.” He looked Riley over. “You’re all mine tonight, after we get back from dinner.”

Riley changed clothes, and Liam put on the light weight linen suit Riley had picked up for him. Liam sighed contentedly.

“No flaming balls?” Riley asked

“No flaming balls My Queen.”

They met Chris and Emily for dinner at Sullivan’s Steakhouse.

“You have to try the cheesesteak egg rolls, Riley you will love them.”

“They sound strange and weirdly delicious at the same time. I’m in.”

*^*^*^*^* end of chapter teasers *^*^*^*^*^*

Still in the pipeline: The thoughts are still bubbling on these, as I don’t have anything more concrete on them to do a teaser as of yet or since last week: Life of Riley Chapter 17: Summertime in the NYC , and At Long Last.

Tagging some peeps that might be interested in some teasers and some writers yo peeps what ya’ll up to

@queenjilian @dcbbw @burnsoslow @axwalker @indiacater @cordonianroyalty @glaimtruelovealways @sophie-and-shizuku @kingliam2019 @gabesmommie1130 @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @islandcrow @batgirlassociationofgothamcity @jared2612 @lovablegranny @queenwalton @sanchita012 @mom2000aggie @gkittylove99 @mrsdrakewalkerblog @choicesficwriterscreations @kimmiedoo5

#bebepac writes #fast forward #pops place #University student ellie #trr fanfic #trr fandom #trh fanfic #trh fandom #trr mc x drake #maybe trr mc x liam #trh mc x liam #king liam of cordonia #queen riley #riley brooks #umbrella academy #umbrella academy crossover

22 notes · View notes

qveenmikaelson · 4 years

Text

In Love With Another Man : A Klaus Mikaelson Imagine

Word Count: 2,588 (Whew, Did Not Expect To Write That Much)

Warnings: Slight Smut .. If You Can Call It That, Thats About It I Believe

Hey Guys . I’m Back With Another Imagine . I Honestly Came Up With The Idea For This In Like 2.5 Seconds While Listening To Jasmine Sullivan’s “In Love With Another Man” . (Lyrics Are Italicized) But Before I Get Into It I Just Want To Take The Chance To Shoutout And Thank @xxwritemeastoryxx And @nmikaelsonimagines .. These Two Are Really An Inspiration For Me And Has Really Encouraged My Writing And I Hope To One Day Be As Good As You All Are . x Sorry For Any Mistakes x .

Don’t Underestimate The Allure Of Darkness. Even The Purest Of Hearts Are Drawn To It.

———————————————————————

And I Know That I Should Throw The Towel In, But Baby It’s Not, Not That Easy.

You Had A Wonderful Life, Perfect Even. At Least You’d Like To Think So. You Were 23 Years Old Living In New Orleans. Had A Nice Job, Working Part Time At This Boutique In The French Quarter And You Had This Amazing Boyfriend Whom You’d Been With For About 5 Years Now. When You Weren’t Working At The Boutique You Were Out Taking Pictures. Because Working At The Boutique Wasn’t Something You Planned On Doing The Rest Of Your Life, You Wanted To Be A Photographer , You Wanted Your Pictures To Be In Everyone’s Homes And You Wanted To Be The One Everyone Came To When They Needed Photo Shoots Done. And Until Then Working A Part Time Job On The Side Was Okay Until You Got To Where You Needed To Be. So Maybe You’re Life Wasn’t Perfect.. But It Was Perfect Enough For You. You Were Content

Until You Saw Him

You Had Been In Town On One Of Your Days Off Taking In The Sun, And Everything Around. You Had Your Camera With You Taking Pictures Of Some Of Everything. You Found The Beauty That Was The French Quarter Captivating And Once You Started Snapping There Was No Stopping. You Were In The Zone . You Got Pictures Of Tourist Laughing About, Flowers , Buildings, Animals.. And Him . It Wasn’t On Purpose . You Were Trying To Get This Photo Of The Most Alluring Butterfly That Landed On This Flower Outside Of This Bar. You Were Across The Street When It Flew By You And You Knew That By The Time You Got Over There To Get An Up Close It Would Be To Late So You Stayed In Your Spot Trying To Get A Good Shot . You’d Managed To Snap A Couple Of Photos Before Your View Was Blocked By City Goers.

Looking Back At The Photos Hoping To Have Gotten At Least One Good Photo Of The Butterfly, That’s When You Noticed Him. It Wasn’t Much, But It Was Enough To Draw Your Attention. Sitting In The Window Of The Bar Was A Man . The Sun Hitting His Face At Just The Right Angle. Illuminating His Golden Curls Making Him Look Like Something Out Of A Story Book .. Angelic .. Like A God .

You Couldn’t Stop Your Feet From Moving, Its Like They Had A Mind of Their Own. Before You Knew It You Were Across The Street Standing In Front Of The Bar.. Rousseau's. You Wondered Why You Haven’t Stumbled Upon This Place Before But Then Again You Weren’t Much Of A Drinker To Begin With. Things Seemed To Move In Slow Motion In The Midst Of The Fastness Of The Quarter As You Walked Through The Door And Walking Up To The Bar, But Not Before Making Eye Contact With Your Mystery Man For A Quick Second. He Already Had You Drawn In With Just A Side Glace OF His Face From The Picture, But Once You Seen His Eyes.. His Eyes Were Something Else. Blue But With A Hint A Darkness In Them, Making The Mystery That Was This Man All The More Interesting.

You Now Found Yourself Sitting At The Bar Drink In Hand, While Looking Through Your Camera Roll All While Hoping That The Small Eye Contact You Made With The Man Was Enough For Him To Notice You And Come Over. You Weren’t Desperate Or Anything, You Just Wanted To Know More About Him For Some Reason, And After All You Had A Boyfriend That You Loved.. You Didn’t Need Anything More. Little Did You Know He Noticed You.. Just Not At The Same Time You Noticed Him.

Klaus Had Been Walking The Streets Of The Quarter One Afternoon.. No Doubt Coming From Rousseau’s When He Noticed You. Taking Pictures Of Everything Around You Smiling As You Did It. That Smile Of Yours Would Be Etched Into His Mind Over The Next Couple Of Weeks, And Before He Knew It You Were The New Subject Of His Paintings. He Would Find Himself Casually Walking The Streets Almost Everyday Hoping To Run Into You Because It Was Something About You That Pulled Him In.. He Wanted To Know More, He Wanted.. You

You Were At The Bar For A Minute, You Actually Became Acquainted With The Bar Tinder. Her Name Was Camille But She Preferred Cami. You Both Sparked Up A Conversation When She Noticed The Camera In Your Hand. You Ended Up Talking About How You Were Aspiring To Become A Photographer, And She A Psychologist, When She Offered That You Could Take Some Pictures Of The Place If You Wanted And You Happily Obliged. Cami Walked To The Other End Of The Bar To Take Care Of Some People So You Were Left By Yourself Again.. Until Your Mystery Man Came And Took The Seat Next To You.. But You Were So Into The Photos You Were Taking That You Hadn’t Really Noticed, Until He Spoke With That Thick Accent Of His.

“Hello Love”

And From That Moment He Had You, And He Knew It Too. For A Second You Forgot Why You Were In The Bar In The First Place Until You Turned To The Voice That Had Spoken, And Needless To Say You Were Breathless, Which Was A First For You Because You Could Talk Someones Head Off If You Wanted. You Hadn’t Really Noticed You Zoned Out While Looking At Him Until You Noticed His Lips Moving But You Weren’t Hearing Anything.

“I’m So Sorry, Were You Saying Something” You Questioned Turning In Your Seat Towards Him

The Famous Smirk You Would Soon Get Familiar With, The One That Would Cause Your Heart To Skip A Few Beats Appeared On His Face, As If He Knew The Effect He Had On You Already

“I Said Of All The Times I’ve Been In This Bar, I’ve Never Seen Your Pretty Face Here.. And Trust Me Sweetheart, I Couldn’t Forget A Face Like Yours” He Said Eyes Peering Into Your Soul It Felt Like.. Smirk Still In His Face “I’m Klaus”

“Yn”

Was All You Could Say. You Were Already Drawn To Him From The Glimpse Of Him In The Picture You Had Taken, But Being Face To Face With Him, And Hearing His Accent Was A Whole Other Ball Game And You Were Starting To Regret Coming In Here But By Then It Was Already Too Late. Whether Or Not You Knew It, You Were Pulled In And There Was No Escaping. You Never Really Noticed When People Started Leaving, Or When The Sun Went Down For That Matter. It Wasn’t Until Chairs Started Going Up That You Realized That You Had Been At That Bar For No More That 5 Hours Sitting And Talking About Any And Everything With Klaus. It Was As If You Knew Him Personally And He You. You Honestly Didn’t Want To Leave But You Knew You had Too, Your Boyfriend Would Be Back In Town Tomorrow And You Still Needed To Get Some Stuff Around The House Down, And It Was Pretty Late So You Bid Your Drinking Partner For The Time Being A Goodnight And Started To Leave But Being The Gentlemen That Klaus Mikaelson Is, He Offered To Walk You To Your Place Claiming That It Wasn’t Safe For A Young Lady As Yourself To Be Walking Alone. It Didn’t Seem Like You Had An Option Because If You Were Being Honest You Might Have Had Just A Little Too Much To Drink So You Accepted His Offer.

Walking Under The Moonlit Sky On A Warm Summer Night Carrying On The Conversation You Too Were Having In The Bar Didn’t Help The Growing Attraction You Had For Him, But Of Course You Didn’t Know It Yet. It Wouldn’t Be Until A Few Run-Ins Later, Some Long Conversations At Rousseau's, And An Invitation To An “Annual Mikaelson Ball” Accompanied By This Gorgeous Dress That Was Way More Than What You Could Afford Right Now That You Would Soon Realize You Were Falling For Niklaus Mikaelson. Because After That First Night He Walked You Home, You Couldn’t Get Him Out Of Your Head, No Matter How Hard You Tried.

If I Could, Could Forget Him

I Would, Please Believe Me

Over The Months You Found Yourself Thinking About Him More. Klaus Gave You A Sense Of Adventure You Didn’t Know You Wanted Until You Met Him. He Bought You Gifts Even Though You Didn’t Ask For Them, But He Would Always Reply With “A Queen Should Always Be Showered With The Finest Gifts” And You Would Always Assure Him That You Were No Queen, And It Was Getting Harder To Explain Where The Gifts Were Coming From When Your Boyfriend Would See You Wearing This Fancy Necklace, Or The Most Recent Gift, A Brand New Camera.

And I Know That I Should Throw The Towel In

But, Baby, Its Not, Not That Easy

You Knew What You Was Doing Was Wrong, Even Through You And Klaus Never Displayed Any Type Of Affection Towards Each Other Physically.. Emotionally You Knew There Was Something There. You Had To Cut What Ever This Was Off Before Someone Got Hurt, But It Was Easier Said Than Done, And After The Way That Night Ended Between The Two Of You When You Tried To Walk Away, It Was Very Much Too Late, You Were In Too Deep.

“Hello Love” He Acknowledged When You Walked Into His Study Not Noticing The Look On Your Face

“We Have To End.. Whatever It Is Were Doing, I Told You When We First Met That I Had A Boyfriend, And I Should’ve Never Entertained Any Of This:

“Did You Walk Here By Yourself Love, I Told You Its Too Dangerous For You To Be By Yourself When Its Getting Dark” Klaus Said Totally Ignoring What You Said”

“D- Did You Hear What I Said Nik .. This” You Said Gesturing Between The Two Of You “Has To Stop.. I Had A Life Before I Met You.. A Wonderful Like That I Was Perfectly Fine With”

If I Was Sane There’d Be No Competition

But, I’m In Love With Someone Else

“I Heard What You Said Love. But You And I Both Know That’s Not True” He Said Looking At You Giving That Same Smirk.. The One That Somehow Makes You Melt Every Time, The One That Made Your Heart Beat A Thousand Beats Per Minute And He Knew It

“But It Is.. So, I’ll See You Nik” You Started To Turn Away And Walk Out But When Before You Could Comprehend It, He Was In Front Of You

When You First Started Hanging Out Klaus Wanted To Keep You Out Of The Supernatural World, But That Failed Difficult When You Were Caught In The Crossfire Of Two Vampires When Walking Home One Day, And You Wanted Answers And That Night He Told You Everything. You Were Fascinated To Say The Least, Always Trying To Get A Picture Of Klaus In His Hybrid State, Saying It Would Be One Of The Best Shots You Would Have Ever Taken But He Never Let You

“See Love, You And I Both Know That’s Not Possible” Klaus Said As His Hands Caressed Your Arms Until He Placed Them On Your Waist, Pulling You To Him. His Touch Lit A Fire In You, One You Didn’t Know You Had And You Were Aroused To Say The Least. You Couldn’t Even Get Your Words Out Properly And You Hated The Effect He Had On Your Body

“W-Why Do You T-Think That” You Said Looking Anywhere But His Eyes

“Because Love” He Said Gripping Your Chin Forcing You To Look Up At Him “If You Didn’t Want This, If You Truly Wanted This To End, You Would Have Called.. It Wasn’t Something That Needed To Be Said In Person” He Said Starring Down At You, Like He Was Slowly Undressing You With His Body “I Give You Something That You Didn’t Know You Needed, And You Cant Stand It.

“And What Is That” You Said Eyes Falling To His Lips. You Cursed Your Body For Betraying You The Way It Was. Truth Is He Was Right You Didn’t Want This To End You Didn’t Want To Stop Hanging Around The Original Hybrid But You Felt Horrible, Telling Yourself That You Indeed Loved Your Boyfriend Of 5 Years, But Your Heart Telling You Something Different Whenever You Were Around Nik.

“Adventure ..”

Its Quite Ironic How You Came To The Compound To Let Nik Know That You Were Done With This Little Situation You Were In With Him, Only To End Up In a Complete Different Situation.. But You Couldn’t Argue That The Situation You Were In Now Was Better. Before You Knew It You Were In Nik’s Bed Wrapped Up In His Sheets. Bodies Tangled Together As His Lips Kissed Every Inch Of Your Body, Missing Not One Crevice, Crack, Or Birthmark, Marking You As His.

His Hands Roamed Your Body Appreciatively As You Moaned Out His Name Not Really Caring If Any Of His Siblings Were Home Now. The Pleasure Was Slowly Building Up As Your Two Bodies Moved In Sync, Panting Heavily, Skin Glistening Due From The Sweat You Two Were Creating, And The Moans And Grunts From You Two Getting Louder And Louder By The Minute.

By The Time You Two Were Anywhere Near Done, The Sun Was Coming Up, And With The Previous Events You Knew Your Legs Were Out For The Count. You Lay Wrapped Up In His Arms Head On His Chest Listening To His Undead Heart Beat While He Was Asleep Thinking About What Just Happened. Thinking About These Last Couple Of Months. You Knew It Was Going To Be A Hard Conversation To Have With Your Boyfriend. But You Knew It Needed To Be Done . Because You Weren’t Sure When It Happened, Maybe It Was The First Time You Had A Conversation With Him, Or That One Time At The Ball His Family Threw When You Were Dancing To This Slow Song And It Felt As If You Were The Only Two In The Room. Or Maybe It Was When He Saved You That Day And Told You All About His World, The Way His Voice Was Laced With Concern, Asking Were You Okay The Rest Of The Night Even When You Assured Him You Were Fine.

He Ain’t Always Right, But He’s Just Right For Me

I’m In Love With Another Man

And I’m So Sorry, Hey

But I Love Someone Else

What Ever Moment It Was Between You And Niklaus Mikaelson Ranging From The Moment You Laid Eyes On Him Up Until Now, You Were Most Certain You Were In Love With This Man.

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Okay So I’m Not Really Sure How I Did On This One, I Liked It And Hopefully You All Like It Also, If You Could I Would Love Feedback On My Writing So I Could Know What I Need To Work On. I’m Going To Try Uploading More Frequently Since I Graduated Beauty School So I’m At Home All Day, But Once Again I Hope You Enjoyed This As Much As I Liked Writing It. Until Next Time .

#klaus x reader #klaus imagine #klaus mikaelson #imagines #the originals #vampire diaries

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papermoonloveslucy · 4 years

Text

LOOK! TV: TURN ON OR TURN OFF?

September 7, 1971

The September 7, 1971 issue of LOOK Magazine (volume 35, number 18) dedicated their entire issue to the medium of television. Inside, there is a feature titled “Lucille Ball, the Star That Never Sets...” by Laura Bergquist on page 54.

The photograph on the cover is slightly distorted to give it the look of an image through a TV screen. The shot was taken by Douglas Bergquist in January 1971.

The issue presents a variety of viewpoints about the state of television. Is it ‘tired’ or is there an infusion of new energy to take it into the new decade? John Kronenberger writes an article that asks if cable television is the future. Hindsight tells us that it was not only the future, but is now the past.

“Lucille Ball, the Star That Never Sets...” by Laura Bergquist.

Bergquist first interviewed Lucille Ball in 1956 for the Christmas issue of Look.

The photograph is by Douglas Kirkland, a Canadian-born photographer, who not coincidentally, also took the photograph used on the cover. This shot was taken in the garden of Ball’s home in June 1971. At age 24, Kirkland was hired as a staff photographer for Look magazine and became famous for his 1961 photos of Marilyn Monroe taken for Look's 25th anniversary issue. He later joined the staff of Life magazine.

Bergquist launches the article talking about her friend Sally, who is besot with watching Lucille Ball reruns, preferring Lucy over the news. Under the headline, she sums up the purpose of her interview: “Sorry, Sally. But Lucy is a serious, unfunny lady. So how come she’s a top clown of the fickle tube for twenty years, seen at home 11 times weekly and in 77 countries?”

LUCILLE BALL: THE STAR THAT NEVER SETS...

(Lucille Ball’s quotes are in BOLD. Footnote numbers are in parentheses.)

My neighbor Sally, nine, turns out to be a real Lucy freak. Though she likes vintage-house-wife I Love Lucy best, she'll watch Lucille Ball 11 times a week, if permitted. That's how often Madame Comedy Champ of the Tube, come 20 years this October, can be caught on my local box. Ten reruns, plus the current Here's Lucy on Monday night, CBS prime time. Friends, that's 330 weekly minutes of Lucy, which should be rank overexposure. Did you know that even the U.S. man-on-the-moon walkers slipped in ratings, second time around?

Quel mystery. Variety last fall announced that old-fashioned sitcoms and broad slapstick comedy are passé, given today's hip audiences. With one big exception - Lucy. When the third Lucy format went on in '68, reincarnating Miss Ball as a widowed secretary (with her real-life son, Desi Jr., now 18, and Lucie Jr., 20), Women's Wear Daily said not only were the kids no talent, but the show was "treacle." "One giant marshmallow," quoth the Hollywood Reporter, "impeccably professional, violence-free, non-controversial . . . 100% escapism."

Miss Ball: "Listen, that's a good review. I usually get OK personal notices, but the show gets knocked regular."

So why does Sally, like all the kids on my block, love slapstick, non-relevant Lucy? "Because she's always scheming and getting into trouble like I do, and then wriggling her way out of it." A 44-year-old Long Island housewife: "Of course I watch. I should watch the news?" When the British Royal Family finally unbent for a TV documentary, what was the tribe watching come box-time? Lucy, over protests from Prince Philip. (1)

"I've been a baby-sitter for three generations," says Miss Ball briskly. "Kids watch me during the day [she outpulls most kiddy shows]. Women and older men at night. Teen-agers, no. They look at Mod Squad. Intellectuals, they read books or listen to records.... You know I even get fan mail from China?" MAINLAND CHINA? "Hong Kong, isn't that China?" No. "Where is it anyway?"

The Statistics on the Lucy Industry are numbing. In recent years, she has run in 77 countries abroad, including the rich sheikhdom of Kuwait, and Japan, where, dubbed in Japanese yet, she's been a long-distance runner for 12 years. Where are all those funny people of yesteryear - Jackie Gleason, the Smothers Brothers, Sid Caesar, the Beverly Hillbillies - old reliables like Ed Sullivan, Red Skelton? Gone, all gone, form the live tube - except for reruns dumped by sponsors, out of fashion, murdered in the ratings.

Even this interview is a rerun. Fifteen years ago, I sat in Miss Ball's old-timey movie-star mansion in Beverly Hills, wondering how much longer, oh Lord, could Lucy last? She has a different husband, a genial stand-up comic of the fast-gag Milton Berle school, Bronx-born Gary Morton, 49. He replaced Desi Arnaz, her volatile Cuban spouse (and costar and partner) of 20 years, who lives quietly in Mexico's Baja California, alongside a pool shaped like a guitar, with a second redhead wife. "Ever been here before?" asks Gary, now her executive producer, who's brightened the house decor. "Used to be funeral-parlor gray, right?"

Otherwise, the lady, like her show, seems preserved in amber. Though newly 60, she could be Sally's great-grandmother. Of a Saturday, she's unwinding from a murderous four-day workweek. Her pink-orange-fireball hair is up in rollers. Her black-and-blue Rolls-Royce, inherited from her friend, the late Hedda Hopper, is parked in the driveway. But in attitude and opinion, she comes across Madame Middle America, despite the shrewd show-biz exterior. Good egg. Believer in hard work, discipline, Norman Vincent Peale. Deadeye Dickstraight, she talks astonishingly unfunny - about Vietnam, Women's Lib, about which she feels dimly, marriage to Latins, books she toted up to her new condominium hideaway in Snowmass, Colo. "Snow" is her new-old passion, a throwback to her small-town Eastern childhood. For the first time in family memory, this lifelong workhorse actually relaxed in that 9,700-foot altitude for four months this year, learning to ski, reading Pepys, Thoreau, Shirley MacLaine's autobiography, "37 goddamned scripts, and all those Irvings" (Stone, Wallace, etc.). She had scouted for a mountain retreat far away from any gambling. Why? Is she against gambling? "No, I'm a sucker. I can't stay away from the tables."

From yellowing notes, I reel off an analysis by an early scriptwriter. Perhaps she comes by her comic genius because of some "early maladjustment in life, so you see commonplace things as unusual? To get even, to cover the hurt, you play back the unhappy as funny?"

Forget any deep-dish theorizing. "Listen, honey," says Miss B, drilling me with those big blue peepers, "you've been talking to me for four, five hours. Have you heard me say anything funny? I tell you I don't think funny. That's the difference between a wit and a comedian. My daughter Lucie thinks funny. So does Steve Allen, Buddy Hackett, Betty Grable."

BETTY GRABLE THINKS FUNNY? "Yeah. Dean Martin has a curly mind. oh, I can tell a funny story about something that happened to me. But I'm more of a hardworking hack with an instinct for timing, who knows the mechanics of comedy. I picked it up by osmosis, on radio and movie lots [she made 75 flicks] working with Bob Hope, Bert Lahr, the Marx Brothers, the Three Stooges - didn't learn a thing from them except when to duck. Buster Keaton taught me about props. OK, I'm waiting."

Well, I hedge, I caught Miss Ball in a few funny capers on the Universal lot this week. Like one day, in her star bungalow, she throws a quick-energy lunch in the blender - four almonds, wild honey, water, six-year-old Korean ginseng roots, plus her own medicine, liver extract. "AAAGH," she gags, then peers in the mirror at her hair, which is a normal working fright wig, "Gawd," she moans, "it looks as if I'd poked my finger into an electric-light socket!" No boffo line, but her pantomimed horror makes me laugh out loud. Working, she is fearless - dangling from high wires, coping with wild beasts. She talks of animals she's worked with, chimps, bears, lions, tigers. "I love 'em all, especially the chimps, but you can't trust their fright or panic. Like that baby elephant who gave a press job to a guest actress." (2) What's a press job? "Honey, once an elephant puts his head down, he keeps marching, right through walls." Miss Ball puts her own head down, crooks an arm for a trunk, and voila, is an elephant. Funny as hell. So off-camera she's no great wit, but then is Chaplin?

Four days a week, through the Thursday night filming before a live audience, she labors like some hungry Depression starlet. Monday a.m., she sits at the head of a conference table, lined by 12 staffers, editing the script. Madame Executive Tycoon in charge of everything, overseeing things Desi used to do. Also the haus-frau, constantly opening windows for fresh air and emptying ashtrays. She wears black horn-rims, three packs of ciggies are at the ready. "Do I have to ask for a raise again?" she impatiently drills the writers, "I've done that 400 times." "QUIET!" she yells during rehearsal, perching in a high director's chair, a la Cecil B. DeMille. "Isn't somebody around here supposed to yell quiet?" She frets about the new set. "Those aisles - they're a mile and a half wide. What for?" The audience is too far away, she won't get the feedback from their laughs are her life's blood. (Once I hear Gary Morton on the phone, in his British-antiqued executive office, saying: "We need your laugh, honey. Go down to the set and laugh; that's an order.")

That physical quality about her comedy, a la the old silent movies or vaudeville - which were the big amusements of her youth - seems to transcend any language. (A Moscow acting school, I was told, shows old Lucy clips as lessons in comic timing.) So what did she learn from that great Buster Keaton?

"At Metro, I kept being held back by show-girl-glamour typing. I always wanted to do comedy. Buster Keaton, a friend of director Eddy Sedgwick, spotted something in me when I was doing a movie called DuBarry - what the hell was the name? - and kept nagging the moguls about what I could do. Now a great forte of mine is props. He taught me all about 'em. Attention to detail, that's all it is. He was around when I went out on a vaudeville tour with Desi with a loaded prop." What's that? "Real Rube Goldberg stuff. A cello loaded with the whole act - a seat to perch on, a violin bow, a plunger, a whistle, a horn. Honey, if you noodge it, you've lost the act. Keaton taught me your prop is your jewel case. Never entrust it to a stagehand. Never let it out of your sight when you travel, rehearse with it all week." Ever noodge it? "Gawd, yes. Happened at the old Roxy in New York. I was supposed to run down that seven-mile aisle when some maniac sprang my prop by leaping out and yelling 'I'm that woman's mother! She's letting me starve.'" What did you do? "Ad-libbed it, and I am one lousy ad-libber."

After 20 years, isn't she weary of playing the Lucy character? "No, I'm a rooter, I look for ruts. My cousin Cleo [now producer of Here's Lucy] is always prodding me to move. She once said Lucy was my security blanket. Maybe. I'm not erudite in any way, like Cleo. But why should I change? Last year was big TV relevant year, and I made sure my show wasn't relevant. Lucy deals in fundamental, everyday things exaggerated, with a happy ending. She has a basic childishness that hopefully most of us never lose. That's why she cries a lot like a kid - the WAAH act - instead of getting drunk."

Aha! Is Lucy the guileful child-woman, conniving forever against male authority - whether husband or nagging boss - particularly FEMALE? ("None of us watch the show," sniffed a Women's Libber I know, "but she must be an Aunt Tom." Still, I ponder, hasn't that always been the essence of comedy, the little poor-soul man - or woman - up against the biggies?)

"I certainly hope so. You trying to con me into talking about Women's Lib? I don't know the meaning of it. I never had anything to squawk about. I don't know what they're asking for that I don't have already. Equal pay for equal work, that's OK. The suffragettes rightly pressed a hard case - and when roles like Carry Nation come along, they ask me to play them, perhaps because I have the physical vitality. But they're kind of a laughingstock, aren't they? Like that girl who gave her parents 40 whacks with an ax? Didn't Carry Nation ax things, was she a Prohibitionist or what?" (3)

She'd just said nix to playing Sabina, in the movie of Thornton Wilder's The Skin of Our Teeth. Why? "I didn't understand it." She turned down The Manchurian Candidate for the same reason. "Got that Oh Dad, Poor Dad script the same week and thought I'd gone loony." If she makes another movie, she'll play Lillian Russell in Diamond Jim with Jackie Gleason, "a nice, nostalgic courtship story that won't tax anyone's nerves." (4)

Is Miss Ball warmed by the comeback of old stars in non-taxing Broadway nostalgia shows like No, No, Nanette? (5)

"Listen, I studied that audience. I saw people in their 60's and 70's enjoying themselves. That had to be nostalgia. The 30's and 40's smiled indulgently, that Ruby Keeler is up there on the stage alive, not dead. For the below 30's, it's pure camp. I don't put it down, but it’s not warm, working nostalgia, but the feeling 'Ye gods, anything but today'

"Maybe I'm more concerned about things that I realize. I told you politics is definitely not on my agenda - I got burned bad, back in the '40's signing a damned petition as a favor. (6) Just say the word 'politician,' and I think of chicanery. Too many subversive angles today. But I must be one of millions who are so fed up, depressed, sobbing inside, about the news...the atrocities, the dead, the running down of America. You can't obliterate the news, but the baddest dream is that you feels so helpless.

"I was sitting in this very chair one night, flipping the dial, and came to Combat! There were soldiers crouching in bushes, a helicopter hovering overhead. Nothing happening, so I make like a director, yelling, 'Move it! This take is too LONG!' It turned out to be a news show from Vietnam. That shook me. There I was criticizing the director, and real blood was dripping off my screen... That drug scene bugs me. It's ridiculous, self-indulgent. We're supposed to be grateful if the kids aren't on drugs. They're destroying us from within, getting at our youth in the colleges. OK, kids have to protest, but how can they accomplish anything if they're physically shot?

"One of the reasons I'm still working is that people seem grateful that Lucy is there, the same character and unchanging view. There's so much chaos in this world, that's important. Many people, not only shut-ins, depend on the tube, too much so - they look for favorites they can count on. Older people loved Lawrence Welk. They associated his music with their youth. Now he's gone. It's not fair. (7) They shouldn't have taken off those bucolic comedies; that left a big dent in some folks' lives. Maybe we're not getting messages anymore from the clergy, the politicians, so TV does the preaching. But as an entertainer, I don't believe in messages.

"Some Mr. Jones is always asking why am I still working - as if it were some crime or neurotic. OK, I'll say it's for my kids. But I like a routine life, I like to work. I come from an old New England family in which everyone worked. My grandparents were homesteaders in New York and Ohio. My mother worked all her life - during the Depression in a factory."

What does she think of the new "relevant" comedy like All in the Family? "I don't know... It's good to bring prejudice out in the open. People do think that way, but why glorify it? Those not necessarily young may not catch the moral. That show doesn't go full circle for me."

Full circle?

"You have to suffer a little when you do wrong. That prejudiced character doesn't pay a penance. Does he ever reverse a feeling? I'm for believability, but I'm tired of hearing 'pig,' 'wop,' 'Polack' said unkindly. Me, I have to have an on-the-nose moral. Years ago, the Romans let humans be eaten by lions, while they laughed and drank - that was entertainment. But I’m tired of the ugly. Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dancing, that's my idea of entertainment. Anything Richard Burton does is heaven. Easy Rider scared me at first because I knew how it could influence kids. But at least that movie came full circle. They led a life of nothing and they got nothing. Doris Day, I believe in her. Elaine May? A kook, but a great talent. Barbra Streisand? A brilliant technician."

On her old ten-minute daily interview radio show, (8) she once asked Barbra, like any star-struck civilian: How does it feel to be only 21, a big recording artist and star of the Broadway hit Funny Girl? "Not much," said Barbra. "That cool really flustered Lucille. It violated everything she believes in," says cousin Cleo Smith, who grew up with Miss B in small-town Celoron, N.Y. "For her, nothing ever came easy. She didn't marry until she was 30, or become a really big star until she was 40. She's still so hard on herself, sets such rigorous standards for herself as an actress and parent. She honestly believes in all the old maxims, that a stitch in time saves nine, etc. She's literal-minded, a bit like Scarlett O'Hara. Does what needs doing today, and to hell with tomorrow."

Her self-made wealth a few years ago was reckoned at $50 to $100 million. After her divorce, she reluctantly took over the presidency of the Desilu studio and sold it six years later to the conglomerate Gulf & Western for nearly $18 million. Does that make her the biggest lady tycoon in Hollywood? (The 179 original I Love Lucy reruns now belong, incidentally, to a CBS syndicate; her second Lucy Show, to Paramount. She owns only the current Here's Lucy - OK, go that straight?)

"Hah! Like Sinatra, I owe about three and a half million bucks all the time. That figure is ridiculous. All my money is working. I lost a helluva lot in the stock market last year and haven't recouped it. It's an illusion that people in show biz are really rich. The really filthy rich are the little old ladies in Boston, the old folks in Pasadena, who've had dough for years and haven't been seen since."

The divorce from Desi Arnaz can still set her brooding. "It was the worst period of my life. I really hit the bottom of despair - anything form there on had to be up. Neither Desi nor I has been the same since, physically or mentally, though we're very friendly, ridiculously so. Nobody knows how hard I tried to make that marriage work, thinking all the trouble must be my fault. I did everything I could to right that ship, trotting to psychiatrists. I hate failure, and that divorce was a Number One failure in my eyes... Anything in excess drives me crazy. He'd build a home anyplace he was, and then never be around to enjoy it. I was so idealistic, I thought that with two beautiful babies, and a beautiful business, what more could any man want? Freedom, he said, but he had that. People don't know what a job he did building that Desilu empire, what a great director and brilliant executive he was yet he let it all go....Maybe Latins have an instinct for self-destruction..."

Was that the conflict, a Latin temperament married to an old-fashioned American female? "It has a helluva lot to do with getting into it and getting out. The charm. But they keep up a big facade and don't follow through. No, the machismo didn't bother me, I like to play games too.

"Desi and I had made an agreement that if either of us wanted to pull out of Desilu, the other could buy. I wanted to go to Switzerland with the kids, anywhere to run away, but he wanted out. The I found out that for five years, our empire had taken a nose dive, and if I wanted to get my money back, I had to rebuild it first. For the first time in my life, I was absolutely terrified - I'd never run any show or a big studio. When I came back from doing the musical Wildcat on Broadway, I was so sick, so beat, I just sat in that backyard, numb, for a year. I'd had pneumonia, mononucleosis, staph, osteomyletis. Lost 22 pounds. Friends told me the best thing I could do physically, psychologically, was go back to work, but could I revive Lucy without Desi, my old writers, the old crew?"

You didn't like being a woman executive? "I hated it. I used to cry so much - and I'm not a crier - because I had to let someone go or make decisions I didn't understand. There were always two sides to every question, and trouble was I could see both sides. No one realizes how run-down Desilu was. The finks and sycophants making $70,000 a year, they were easy to clean out. Then during the CBS Jim Aubrey regime, I couldn't sell the new pilots we made - Dan Dailey, Donald O'Connor, Ethel Merman. I couldn't sell anything but me." (9)

Was it tough to be a woman bossing men? "Yeah. It puts men in a bad spot. I could read their minds, unfortunately, wondering who is this female making this decision, not realizing that maybe I'd consulted six experts first. I'm all wrong as an executive, I feel out of place. I have too many antennae out, I'm too easily hurt and intimidated. But I can make quick surgical incisions. I've learned that much about authority - give people enough rope to hand themselves, stand back, let them work, but warm them first. Creative people you have to give special leeway to, and often it doesn't pay off. Me, I'm workative, not creative. I can fix - what I call 'naturalize.' I'm a good editor, I can naturalize dialogue, find an easier way to do a show mechanically.

But I didn't make the same marriage mistake twice. Gary digs what my life is, why I have to work. We have tranquility. We want the same things, take care of what we have."

She shows me Gary's dressing room, closets hung with shirts and jackets - by the dozen. "My husband is a clothes and car nut, but it's a harmless vice. Better than booze or chasing women, right?" (His cars include a 1927 Model T Ford, a Mercedes-Benz 300 SL, an Astin Martin, a Rolls-Royce convertible.)

"Anyone married to me has an uphill climb. Gary and I coped by anticipating. We knew we should be separated eight, nine months a year, so he tapered off his act, found other thing to do - making investments, building things. He plays the golf circuit, Palm Springs, Pebble Beach, and tolerantly lets me stay at Snowmass for weeks. Sun just doesn't agree with me. He didn't come into the business for five years. I didn't want to put him in a position in which he would be ridiculed. I could tell that he was grasping things - casting, story line. I said, 'You've been a big help to me. You should be paid for it.' "

On a Friday night, I dine with the Mortons. Dinner is served around 6:30, just like in my Midwest hometown. Lucille is still fretting about this week's show - "over-rehearsed; because there were so many props, the fun had gone out of it." Gary, just home from unwinding his own way - golfing with Milton Berle, Joey Bishop - asks if I'd like something to drink with dinner? Coke or ginger ale? "No? I think we have wine." No high living in this house, but the spareribs are superb. "Laura asked me an interesting question," he tells his wife. "Like isn't there a conflict when a husband in the same business - comedy - marries a superstar? I told her I'd never thought of it before."

They met the summer when Lucille was rehearsing Wildcat, and he was a stand-up comic at Radio City Music Hall, seven days a week. "We both came up the hard way," he says. "I got started in World War II, clowning for USO shows. I've been in show biz for 30 years and can appreciate what she goes through. Lucy can't run company by herself. Maybe with me around, when she walks on the set, her mind is at peace. I pop in from time to time, on conferences, rehearsals. I can tell from her if things are going well, if the laughter is there. She's a thoroughbred, very honest with me, a friend to whom I can talk about anything. She never leaves me out of her life; that's important for a man. Do you know how many bets were lost about our marriage lasting? It's been nearly ten years now, and I've slept on the couch only once."

Past dinner, we adjourn promptly to the living room, and a private showing of Little Murders. It's not a pretty movie of urban American life, and Lucy talks back indignantly to the screen. (10) The flick she rally like was George Plimpton's Paper Lion, with the Detroit Lions, which she booked under the illusion it was an animal picture. "At the end, 12 of us here stood up and cheered, and I wrote every last Lion a fan note. You know that picture hardly made a dime?"

On a house tout, I'd noted the Norman Rockwell and Andrew Wyeth albums in the living room, and a memo scotch-taped to her bathroom wall: "Get Smart with N.V.P."

N.V.P. Is that Norman Vincent Peale, her old friend and spiritual mentor? "Yes. He marred me and Gary. I still adhere to his way of thinking because he preaches a day-to-day religion that I can understand. Something workable, not allegory. Like how do you get up in the morning and just get through the day?

"Dr. Peale taught me the art of selfishness. All it means is doing what's right for you, not being a burden to others. When I was in Wildcat, he dropped around one night saying, 'I hear you're very ill, and working too hard.' 'Work never hurt anybody,' I protested. But he reminded me I had two beautiful children to bring up, and if I was in bad shape, how could I do it? I've learned you don't rake more leaves than you can get into the wheelbarrow. I've always been moderate, but I was too spread around, trying to please too many people. You don't become callous, but you conserve your energies."

What about her kids? Passing a newsstand, I'd noted a rash of fan mags blazoned with headlines about Desi Jr., something of a teen-age idol, and at 18 a spitting image of old pop. (A rock star at 12, he'd recently garnered very good notices indeed for a movie role in Red Sky at Morning.) "Why Lucille Ball's Son Is So Bitter About His Own Mother," read the El Trasho covers. "Patty Duke Begs Desi Jr. To Believe Her: 'You Made Me Pregnant.' " Does the imbroglio bother this on-the-nose moralist?

"I worked for years for a quiet personal life and to have to personally impinged on, with no recourse, is hard. I brought Patty to the house, feeling very maternal about her, saying look at this clever girl, what a big talent she is. Now, I can thank her for useless notoriety. She's living in some fantastic dreamworld, and we're the victims of it. Desi being the tender age of 17 when they met, she used him. She hasn't proved or asked for anything. I asked Desi if he wanted to marry her and he said no. My daughter helped outfit the baby, which Patty brought to the house, but did she ever say thank you?

"Desi's going to CIA this fall." Not the CIA? No, the new California Institute of the Arts, where he'll study music. "Yes, he's very much like his father, too much sometimes - I just hope he has Desi's business acumen. I'm glad he didn't choose UCLA or Berkeley or a school full of nonconformists. Lucie just now wants marriage and babies - maybe she'll go on to college later.

"I took the kids out of school deliberately. Desi was at Beverly Hills High, Lucie at Immaculate Heart."

Why? "I didn't like the scene - it was the usual - pregnant girls, drugs." That goes on at Immaculate Heart? Sure. "A lot of girls who boarded there were unhappy misfits, and Lucie was already working in the nunnery. All the friends she brought home were the rejected. I'm that way myself."

Did they mind, well, your stage-managing their lives? "No, they were as sick of that weird high school scene as I was. I made them a proposition - told them to think it over for a month, while I was in Monaco. Do you want to be on the show? I told them the salary would be scale, that most would be put in trust. They'd be tutored and not able to graduate with their classes. They both thought they were going to the coast, but working with a tutor, they really got turned on by books for the first time. They wanted to be in show business, and I wanted to keep an eye on them."

Of course her show is nepotism, she grants. "Cleo thought a long time before becoming the producer, wondering if it wasn’t overdoing family. Nobody seems to be suffering from it, I told her." Thursday night show time is like a tense Broadway opening night. Gary Morton, in stylish crested blazer, warms up the audience, heavy with out-of-town tourists. "Lucy started out with another fellow, can't remember his name.... What is home without a mother? A place to bring girls." Lucille bursts out onstage, exuding the old MGM glamour, fireball hair ablaze, eyelashes inches long, in aquamarine-cum-rhinestone kaftan. "For God's sake," she implores, "laugh it up! We want to hear from you... Gary, have you introduced my mom?" Indeed he has. Loyal, durable, 79-year-old Desiree "DeDe" Ball, her hair pink as Lucille's, has missed few of the 409 Lucy shows filmed to date, and is on hand as usual with 19 personal guests. Gary also asks for big hands for Cleo, and her husband Cecil Smith, TV critic for the LA Times, who has also appeared on the show. (11)

One day Desi Jr. wanders on the set, just back from visiting his father in Mexico. He'd gone with Patty Duke and the baby. The young man does have Latin charm, and apparently talent. I ask him a fan-mag query: Is it rough to be the spin-off of such famous show-biz parents?

"Well, I grew up with kids like Dean Martin, Jr., and Tony Martin, Jr., and we had a lot in common." What? "We all had houses in Palm Springs." Any generational problem with Mom? "She's found the thing she's best at, and sticks to it. As long as she has Snowmass, she has an escape, some reality. I realize she lives half in a man's world, and that must be tough on a woman. My father - he worked hard for years, and then he'd had it. This is silly, weird, he felt. He aged more in ten years than he had in 40. I'm like him. I feel life is very short. He's had major operations recently, and he's changed a lot."

Patty Duke is six years older than Desi Jr., paralleling the six-year age gap that separated parents Lucy and Desi. "Patty is a lot like my mother, the same drive, and strong will, a perfectionist...But I'm never going to get married. Marriage is unrealistic, expecting you to devote a whole life unselfishly to just one person. Do you know people age unbelievably when they marry? From what I've seen, 85 percent of married couples are miserable; 14 percent, just average; one percent, happy." (12)

His mother's own childhood, in little Celoron, an outspring of Jamestown, N.Y., was oh-so-different from her kids'. "She was always a wild, tempestuous, exciting child," say Cleo, "doing things that worried people, plotting and scheming, though she knew she'd get in trouble." Interesting, because that's one basic of the Lucy format, Miss B forever finagling second bananas like Vivian Vance into co-trouble. "One summer, she conned me into running away. It was only to nearby Fredonia, but in her sneaky way she really wanted to catch up to a groovy high school principal who was teaching there. He played it very cool, calling Mom and telling her we were staying overnight in a boarding house. On his advice, when we got home, DeDe acted as if we hadn't been away. That devastated Lucille, no reaction, nothing."

The classic Lucy story line also has her conniving against male authority, whether husband or boss, now played by Gale Gordon. "I need a strong father or husband figure as catalyst. I have to be an inadequate somebody, because I don't want the authority for Lucy. Every damned movie script sent me seems to cast me as a lady with authority, like Eve Arden or Roz Russell, but that's not me.

"No, I don't remember my own father," says Miss Ball. "He was a telephone lineman who died of typhoid at 25, when I was about three. I do remember everything that day, though. Hanging out the window, begging to play with the kids next door who had measles... The doctor coming, my mother weeping. I remember a bird that flew in the window, a picture that fell off the wall.

"My brother Fred [who was born after her father's death] was always very, very good. He never did anything wrong - he was too much to bear. I was always in trouble, a real pain in the ass. I suppose I wasn't much fun to be around." To this day, says Cleo, Lucille suspects Fred is her mother's favorite, even though DeDe has devoted her whole life to this daughter.

Family ties were always fierce-strong. After her father's death, "We lived with my mother's parents, for a while. Grandpa Hunt was a marvelous jack-of-all-trades, a woodturner, eye doctor, mailman, bon vivant, hotel owner. [And also an old-fashioned Populist-Socialist.] He met my grandmother, Flora Belle, a real pioneer woman and pillar of the family, when she was a maid in his hotel. She was a nurse and midwife, an orphan who brought up four pairs of twin sisters and brothers all by herself. He took us to vaudeville every Saturday and to the local amusement park. When Grandma died at 51, all us kids had to pitch in, making beds, cooking.

"Yeah, I guess I am real mid-America, growing up as a mix of French-Scotch-Irish-English, living on credit like everyone else, paying $1.25 a week to the insurance man, buying furniture on time. But it was a good, full life. Grandpa took us camping, fishing, picking mushrooms, made us bobsleds. We always had goodies. I had the first boyish bob in town and the first open galoshes.

"My mother then married Ed Peterson, a handsome-ugly man, very well-read. He was good to me and Freddy but he drank too much. He was the first to point out the magic of the stage. A monologist came to town on the Chautauqua circuit. He just sat onstage with a pitcher of water and light bulb and made us laugh and cry for two hours. For me, this was pure magic. When I was about seven, Ed and mother moved to Detroit, leaving me with his old-fashioned Swedish parents, who were very strict. I had to be in bed at 6:30, hearing all the other kids playing outside in the summer daylight. Maybe it wasn't that traumatic, but I realize now it was a bad time for me. I felt as if I'd been deserted. I got my imagination to working, and read trillions of books."

The adult Lucille, talking to interviewers, used to go on and on about her "unhappy" childhood, little realizing that she was reflecting on her mother, to whom she is passionately devoted. "Just how long do you think you lived with the Petersons?" asked DeDe one day in a confrontation. "Three YEARS? Well I tell you it was more like three weeks."

"I left home at 15, much too early, desperate to break into the big wide world. Looking for work in New York show biz was ugly, without any leads or friends or training other than high school operettas and plays and Sunday school pageants. I was very shy and reticent, believe it or not, and I kept running home every five minutes. I got thrown in with older Shubert and Ziegfeld dollies and, believe me, they were a mean, closed corporation. I don't understand kids today who get easily discouraged and yap about doing their own thing. Don't they know what hard work is? Where are their morals? I always knew when I did wrong, and paid penance."

Yet she was venturesome enough to sit in on some recent Synanon group-therapy sessions for drug addicts. "They wanted me to raise some money, and I wanted to find out what it was about. The games were fascinating, wonderful, until I couldn't take it any more. The other participants kept bugging me: What are you here for? Are your children drug addicts? I had to start making up problems."

For two decades, she's been risking her neck in those murderous ratings, outlasting long-ago competitors like Fulton Sheen, and now up against such pleasers as pro football and Rowan and Martin. (13)

Suppose the ratings drop, what would she do?

No idea. "Might take a trip on the Inland Waterway form Boston to Florida. In my deal with Universal, I can make specials, other movies, TV pilots. I wouldn't have to ski 'spooked' at Snowmass." What's that? "Honey, I have to be careful. If I break a leg 500 people are out of work. (14) I'd be happy in some branch of acting with some modicum of appreciation. Listen, it never occurred to me, in life that I'd fail ever, because I always appreciated small successes. I never had a big fixed goal. When I was running Desilu, it drove me wild when people asked, 'Aren't you proud to own the old RKO studio where you once worked as a starlet?' What $50-a-week starlet ever walked around a lot saying, 'I want to own this studio'?

"I don't know what you've been driving at, what's your story line? But it's been interesting, talking."

FOOTNOTES: HINDSIGHT IS 20/20

(1) This refers to a rare 1969 BBC documentary about Britain’s royal family that gave the public an inside look at the life of the Windsors. In one scene, the family was watching television, and on the screen was “I Love Lucy”, much to the chagrin of Prince Philip. Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip were mentioned on the series, especially in the episode “Lucy Meets the Queen” (ILL S5;E15).

(2) Lucy is referring to a 1967 episode of “The Lucy Show” titled “Lucy The Babysitter” (TLS S5;E16) in which Lucy Carmichael babysits three rambunctious chimps for their parents, played by Jonathan Hole and Mary Wickes. In the final moments of the show, Wickes reveals a fourth sibling - a baby elephant! The animal went wild and pushed Wickes (what Ball described as a “press job”) into one of the prop trees. The trainer had to physically subdue the elephant to get it away from Wickes, who injured her arm. The final cut ends with the entrance of the baby elephant.

(3) Lucy is conflating (probably intentionally) the stories of real-life prohibitionist Carrie Nation (1846-1911), who famously hacked up bars and whisky barrels with an axe, and Lizzie Bordon (1860-1927), who famously hacked up her parents with an axe. (Photo from the 1962 TV special “The Good Years” starring Lucille Ball and Henry Fonda.)

(4) There was never a film version of Thornton Wilder’s play Skin Of Our Teeth which was on Broadway in 1942 starring Tallulah Bankhead as Sabina, the role offered to Ball. There were several television adaptations; one in Australia in 1959; one in England the same year starring Vivian Leigh as Sabina; one in the USA in 1955 starring Mary Martin (above) as Sabina; and a filmed version of a stage production starring Blair Brown as Sabina in 1983. Although it is possible that Lucille Ball might have been considered for the role of the sexy housemaid Sabina in 1955, the article says that the role was “just” offered to her, so it probably refers to a 1971 project that never materialized. Wilder’s story tracks a typical American family from New Jersey from the ice age through the apocalypse.

(5) In 1971, there was a popular revival of the 1925 musical comedy No, No, Nanette on Broadway. The cast featured veteran screen star Ruby Keeler and included Helen Gallagher (playing a character named Lucille, coincidentally), Bobby Van, Jack Gilford, Patsy Kelly and Susan Watson. Busby Berkeley, nearing the end of his career, was credited as supervising the production, although his name was his primary contribution to the show. The 1971 production was well-reviewed and ran for 861 performances. It sparked interest in the revival of similar musicals from the 1920s and 1930s. The original 1925 cast featured Charles Winninger, who played Barney Kurtz, Fred’s old vaudeville partner on “I Love Lucy.” In that same episode (above), they sing a song from the musical, "Peach on the Beach” by Vincent Youmans and Otto Harbach. Like the revue in the episode, the musical is set in Atlantic City, New Jersey.

(6) Lucy is referring to her 1936 affidavit of registration to join the Communist Party. Lucille said she signed it to appease her elderly grandfather. The cavalier act caught up with Ball in 1953, when zealous red-hunting Senator Joe McCarthy tried to purge America of suspected Communists. Although many careers were ruined, Ball escaped virtually unscathed.

(7) The popular big band music series “The Lawrence Welk Show” (1955) was unceremoniously canceled in 1971 by ABC, in an attempt to attract younger audiences. What Lucy doesn’t mention is that four days after this magazine was published, the show began running brand new shows in syndication, which continued until 1982. Welk, despite not being much of an actor, played himself on “Here’s Lucy” (above) in January 1970.

(8) “Let’s Talk To Lucy” was a short daily radio program aired on CBS Radio from September 1964 to June 1964. Most interviews (including Streisand’s) were spread over multiple installments.

(9) To showcase possible new series (pilots) Desilu and CBS aired “Vacation Playhouse” (1963-67) during the summer when “The Lucy Show” was on hiatus. This would often be the only airing of Lucy’s passion projects. “Papa GI” with Dan Dailey as an army sergeant in Korea who has his hands full with two orphans who want him to adopt them. The pilot was aired in June 1964 but it was not picked up for production. “Maggie Brown” had Ethel Merman playing a widow trying to raise a daughter and run a nightclub which is next to a Marine Corps base. The pilot aired in September 1963, but went unsold. “The Hoofer” starring Donald O’Connor and Soupy Sales as former vaudevillians aired its pilot in August 1966. No sale!

(10) Little Murders (1971) was a black comedy based on the play of the same name by Jules Feiffer. The film is about a young nihilistic New Yorker (Elliott Gould) coping with pervasive urban violence, obscene phone calls, rusty water pipes, electrical blackouts, paranoia and ethnic-racial conflict during a typical summer of the 1970s. Definitely not Lucille Ball’s style of comedy! Paper Lion (1968) was a sports comedy about George Plimpton (Alan Alda) pretending to be a member of the Detroit Lions football team for a Sports Illustrated article.

(11) Cecil Smith appeared in “Lucy Meets the Burtons” (HL S3;E1) in 1970 playing himself, a member of the Hollywood Press with a dozen other real-life writers. The casting was a way to get better coverage of the episode (featuring power couple Dick Burton, Liz Taylor, and her remarkable diamond ring). The gambit worked and the episode was the most viewed of the entire series.

(12) Desi Jr.’s 1971 views on marriage did not last. He married actress Linda Purl in 1980, but they divorced in 1981. In October 1987, Arnaz married dancer Amy Laura Bargiel. Ten years later they purchased the Boulder Theatre in Boulder City, Nevada and restored it. They lived in Boulder with their daughter, Haley. Amy died of cancer in 2015, at the age of 63.

(13) From 1952 to 1957, Catholic Bishop Fulton J. Sheen hosted the inspirational program “Life Is Worth Living”, winning an Emmy Award in 1953, alongside winners Lucille Ball and “I Love Lucy.” “Here’s Lucy” was programmed up against “Monday Night Football” on ABC and “Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In” on NBC. Instead of ignoring her competition, Ball embraced them by featuring stories about football and incorporating many of the catch phrases and guest stars from “Laugh-In.”

(14) Lucy spoke too soon! Just a few months after this interview was published Ball did indeed have a skiing accident in Snowmass and broke her leg. With season five’s first shooting date approaching, Ball was faced with either ending the series or re-write the scripts so that Lucy Carter would be in a leg cast. She chose the latter, even incorporating actual footage of herself on the Snowmass slopes (above) into "Lucy’s Big Break” (HL S5;E1).

Elsewhere in the Issue...

“This Was Our Life” by Gene Shalit includes images of Lucille Ball in the collage illustration.

A week after this issue of Look hit the stands, the fourth season of “Here’s Lucy” kicked off with guest star Flip Wilson and a parody of Gone With the Wind. Three days later, Ball guest-starred on his show.

Not to be outdone, LOOK’s rival LIFE also devoted an entire issue to television, on news stands just three days later.

Naturally, “I Love Lucy” didn’t escape mention! I’m not sure why the show’s run is bifurcated: 1952-55, 1956-57. Actually, the show began in 1951 and ran continually until 1957.

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