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originalhybridloverfics-backup · 1 year

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CH7 The Gift You Gave Me

Felicity pulled up outside the Queen mansion, second guessing her decision to come here and she hadn’t even stepped out of the car.

She should’ve just called Oliver.

Hell, she didn’t even know if he was home. He could’ve been with Laurel for all she knew.

However, she would feel stupid driving all the way here for nothing.

She wanted someone to talk to, someone who knew Tommy more if not better than her, and she really just didn’t want to be alone right now.

Steeling herself, she stepped out of the car and knocked on the massive oak doors.

After a few moments, it was opened by a middle-aged dark-haired woman from her description, Felicity believed the woman to be Raisa. The Queen’s beloved housekeeper. Felicity had heard a lot about the woman from both Oliver and Tommy.

“I’m sorry to show up unannounced. I should have called but...”

The woman smiled. “Ms. Felicity, right?”

Felicity’s lips parted in surprise.

“Mr. Oliver has mentioned you a few times. I assume you are here to see him.” Her voice was warm.

“If it’s not too much trouble.” Felicity breathes out shakily. She could really use a friend right now.

“Certainly. Mr. Oliver is in his room.” Raisa opened the door wider. “Why don’t you come in and I will tell him you are here.”

Felicity followed Raisa inside to a sitting room meant for entertaining guest, the woman disappeared shortly after leaving Felicity alone in the room. Felicity looked around the extravagant decor and felt even more out of her element.

It did not help her current state at all.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Oliver folded clothes and placed them in his duffle bag. He was just zipping it up when there was a knock on his bedroom door.

“Come in, Raisa.”

He knew it was Raisa because Thea had left for her boyfriend’s just a little over an hour ago.

“Mr. Oliver, Ms. Felicity is here to see you. I asked her to wait downstairs.”

Oliver barely hid his surprise. “Thank you, Raisa.”

Oliver reached for his phone when the door closed behind her departure, checking his phone for any missed calls from Felicity. There was none.

Oliver quickly placed his bag on the floor and nudge it with his foot and pushed it under his bed. He slipped his phone into his back pocket and went to meet Felicity downstairs.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Felicity felt her eyes grow wet as she looked at the family photos. They were of Oliver and Thea growing up, and even some of Tommy.

Her eyes lingered on a photo of two young boys smiling at the camera, mud caked their jeans with smudged dirt. It looked like they spent the day playing outside.

“Tommy and I were seven in that picture.”

Felicity nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice. She whirled around to face him, one hand resting over her heart, the other on her stomach. “Frack, you startled me. A little warning next time would be nice.”

“Sorry,” Oliver said apologetically. “I was going to come see you in a bit.” he paused, looking at her closely. “Are you okay? You’re a little pale today.”

“I’m fine.” Felicity let her hands fall to her sides. “I’m just tired.”

Oliver nodded. “It’s been an exhausting week.”

“I went to see Tommy because I needed to tell him something, and it’s just so awful. He’s not here and I really need him to be.” the words just started spilling out like a running faucet. “I wish I knew what he would have wanted. I know what I need to do and what I’m gonna do, and I can imagine what I would’ve wanted his reaction to be, but I’ll never know with certainty what he would’ve-”

“Felicity.” Oliver placed his hand gently on her shoulder. “Breathe.”

Felicity breathed out slowly and deeply, matching her breathing to Oliver’s.

“I knew Tommy almost better than anyone. Maybe I would know how he would’ve responded.” Oliver said gently. “What did you have to tell him?”

“I’m pregnant.” Felicity’s voice was barely above a whisper. Quiet.

Oliver’s lips parted in surprise.

“I found out when I woke up in the hospital. I tried not to think about it because of Tommy’s death and everything feels so impossible.” Felicity said. “I had my first appointment a few days ago. I got to see and hear the baby and it just made it so real. I went to tell him and I just don’t know - “

“Tommy would have been so happy. Don’t for a second think otherwise.”

“Yeah?” Felicity looked up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Yeah, Tommy had so little of it, but nothing was more important to him than family. The people he loved. He used to tell me when we were just kids that one day he was going to have a big family. Big enough to create his own baseball team.”

His words brought her some relief, but it didn’t elevate her fears.

Felicity half sobbed, half laughed.

Oliver reached for her hand, squeezing it. “It’s going to be okay. Whatever you decide to do, I’ll support you.”

“I’m keeping it. How can I not? It’s the last piece of Tommy I’ll ever have, but I am terrified of doing this alone.” Felicity admitted, voice cracking with tears.

“You’ll be great at this, like you are everything else and you won’t be doing this alone. I’ll be there for whatever you need. You’re not alone.” Oliver said, meaning every word.

“Promise?” A tear slipped down Felicity’s cheek, and she quickly brushed it away.

“I promise.” Oliver vowed. “Come here.” he pulled her into him, his arms enfolding her in his embrace. “I’m not going anywhere.”

There was no way he could leave now. Still, Laurel’s words echoed in the back of his mind.

Would Felicity and the baby be better off without him? Could he be a part of their lives without ruining them like he did everything else?

He didn’t know, but he was going to damn well try.

He would do everything he possibly could not to screw this up. It was too important.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Oliver could see Felicity was exhausted and insisted she stay and rest.

Felicity agreed. She was too tired to argue, and she didn’t want to be alone right now.

Oliver led her upstairs and down a series of corridors and stopped in front of a closed door adjacent to another closed door.

With a hand on her back, he pushed the door open, revealing a room large enough to fit her entire apartment in.

It had a fourposter bed, drape in royal blue bedding. A large dresser with a tv on the wall above it. A desk in one corner and a couch near the wall. Two closed doors.

Felicity assumed one led to a closet and the other to a private bathroom.

“This was Tommy’s room when he stayed here, which was often when we were younger.” Oliver told her. “I thought you would feel more comfortable here than in a guest room.”

It was so thoughtful. It instantly brought tears to her eyes. She never been this emotional or this quick to cry before. She blamed the pregnancy hormones.

“Thank you.” She said gratefully.

Oliver nodded. “If you need anything, I’m right across the hall. Get some rest. Raisa will have dinner ready in just a few hours and I think we both could use the downtime.”

Felicity looked around the room after the door closed behind Oliver.

She took a seat on the bed and reached for the photo of a woman holding a young boy on her hip. She had blue eyes and a familiar, carefree smile.

Felicity easily recognized the woman in the photo. Tommy had showed her pics of his mom before. She knew the little boy to be Tommy. The dark hair, blue eyes, and bright smile were a dead giveaway.

Felicity wondered if she had a boy would he be the spitting image of his father or would she have a little girl with her father’s smile and eyes?

Felicity set the picture back on the bedside table. She stood walking to the dresser and finding some of Tommy’s clothes. She lifted a dark grey shirt to her nose, tears instantly filled her eyes. It still smelled like Tommy.

Grabbing a pair of boxers and the shirt, Felicity walked to the bathroom that had a large shower.

She took a quick shower, combing her fingers through her hair. When she was done, she climbed into the fourposter bed on the side she knew to be Tommy’s. She somehow could still smell him on the pillowcase.

She was more tired than she thought. It didn’t take her long to fall asleep with Tommy’s scent surrounding her and the incredibly soft mattress and sheets.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

“Raisa?” Oliver called, entering the kitchen.

“Mister Oliver?” Raisa walked out of the walk-in pantry. “What can I do for you?”

“My friend will be joining us for dinner. Could you make something healthy and well balanced?” Oliver requested, choosing his words carefully.

Oliver didn’t want to come out and say Felicity was pregnant. He didn’t know who all she wanted to know about her condition and he wanted to respect that. It was her business and no one else’s until she decided otherwise.

Raisa was silent as she looked at him and if he wasn’t who he was, he would’ve buckled under her scrutiny.

Finally, after a long moment, Raisa smiled warmly. “I will take care of it.”

“Thank you.” Oliver returned her smile.

“You’re welcome.” Raisa disappeared back into the pantry.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Felicity woke up a few hours later, her stomach rolling uncomfortably. Scrambling from the bed, she nearly tripped in her haste to get to the bathroom.

Her knees cracked on the tile floor as she threw herself before the white porcelain toilet bowl, retching.

It felt like hours but could only be minutes when she felt a hand pulling back the strands of her hair sweeping it over her neck and then rubbing her back in soothing circles.

“Are you okay?” Oliver asked, voice laced with concern.

Felicity leaned back against him, catching her breath and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

She could still taste the bile in her mouth. It was disgusting.

“I will be,” she answered.

When she moved to push herself up, Oliver was there, helping her stand.

“You wouldn’t happen to have an extra toothbrush, toothpaste and mouthwash lying around, would you?” Felicity asked hopefully, turning on the faucet and leaning over the sink to wash her mouth out.

“Tommy kept extras of almost everything hygienic under the sink.” Oliver placed his hand on her side, urging her a little over so he could open the door beneath the sink.

Felicity gratefully accepted the new toothbrush, toothpaste and mouthwash, wasting no time brushing her teeth and rinsing her mouth out.

Oliver watched her. He had this weight on his chest. She was so pale and her skin looked clammy. She looked like she had an awful stomach bug.

Maybe he should take her to the hospital? Make sure everything was fine with her and the baby.

“Are you sure you’re okay and it’s nothing serious?” Oliver asked.

Felicity splashed some water on her face and patted it dry with a hand towel. “It’s jus morning sickness. It comes and goes.”

“But it’s not morning.” Oliver protested.

“Tell me about it.” Felicity noted his concern and offered up a small smile. “I’m okay. We’re okay. Promise. If I thought something was wrong, I would already be on my way to the hospital.”

“Okay.” Oliver trusted her words, certain she knew her own body. “Do you think you will be able to eat something? Raisa is working on dinner. It should be done in about an hour.”

“I’ll try.” Felicity said.

“Okay then. I’m just across the hall if you need anything.”

“Oliver.” Felicity called out when he turned to leave.

He waited, eyes locking on hers.

“Thank you.”

Oliver shook his head. “You never have to thank me.”

Felicity watched him go, feeling closer to him than before. She wasn’t as alone as she thought she was.

It didn’t make her miss Tommy less, but it helped to know she didn’t have to go through this alone.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Felicity looked around the dining room table as Raisa only set down two plates. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” the other woman smiled warmly.

“Everything looks great, Raisa.” Oliver complimented.

“It smells great.” Felicity added. The delicious aroma of the food was actually making her hungry despite her earlier bouts of morning sickness.

Oven roasted chicken, baked potatoes and green beans.

Raisa smiled and excused herself.

“Will Thea not be joining us?” Felicity wondered.

“She’s staying with Roy at the moment.” Oliver answered.

Felicity nodded and began to eat her food. Oliver followed her lead and ate his own dinner slowly.

Dinner was ate quietly with the comfortableness of two friends who didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with unnecessary small talk.

After dinner, Oliver convinced Felicity to walk with him on the grounds. Claiming the fresh air will do her and the baby both some good.

Oliver felt that same weight on his chest as he walked with her.

If Felicity hadn’t come over today, he would’ve left for Lian Yu at dawn after wiring her and John some money.

She would have been alone. He didn’t really know anything about her family. He never bothered to ask. He should have, because he didn’t know if she would have anyone to support her.

The guilt weighed heavier on him. He wasn’t a good friend or partner. He vowed he would do better. Starting now.

“It’s beautiful out here.” Felicity commented.

The garden they walked through was filled with flower beds and there was a pristine white gazebo off in the distance.

“My grandmother prided herself on the garden. My mother did not inherit her green thumb, but she made sure it was well taken care of.” Oliver said, his hand naturally migrated to her lower back as he walked her toward the gazebo. “My grandfather had this built for my grandmother so she could sit and look out at her garden.”

There was a hanging swing, and Felicity took a seat as Oliver sat down beside her.

They sat quietly and Felicity watched as the garden lights came on, casting a warm glow followed by garden sprinklers to wet the grass.

“I was gonna leave.” Oliver said, something screaming inside of him to be completely honest with her.

Perhaps that was his first step to doing better as both her teammate and her friend.

“What?” Felicity’s head snapped toward him.

“I was packing a bag, intending to leave at dawn tomorrow.” Oliver continued.

“Where were you going to go?” Felicity asked.

“Lian Yu.” he answered.

“That’s the island you were stranded on.” Said Felicity.

Oliver nodded wordlessly, answering her.

“I don’t understand.” Felicity admitted.

Hadn’t that place been hell for him? Why would he want to go back there, of all places?

“I’ve caused so much pain since coming home.” Oliver’s voice was filled with anguish.

“You thought anyone would be better off if you never came home.” Felicity shook her head. “That is so far from the truth.”

“You don’t have to make me feel better.” Oliver looked away.

“I’m being honest here, Oliver. Making you feel better is just a bonus.” Felicity grabbed his arm. “Hey, look at me.”

Oliver turned his eyes back to her, waiting.

“Tommy, while he was angry about you being the vigilante and the lies, and the complicated thing with Laurel he was happy to have his brother back and I don’t know your family well but I can only imagine how happy they were to have you back.”

“Feli-”

“I’m not done.” Felicity cut him off, but not unkindly. “If I hadn’t met you, I never would’ve met and fallen in love with Tommy. It hurts right now but I wouldn’t trade back one second I spent with him for the world. You have saved so many lives since coming home. The entire Glades would’ve been destroyed and I’m not sure I would be here right now if not for you.”

She lived on just the edge of the Glades. If that second device went off, her place might have fallen with the Glades. If hadn’t come for her that night, she’s not sure she would’ve ever walked out of the Foundry that night.

“Things have not been perfect, but life never is. You’ve done more for this city than anyone has. If you don’t want to believe that you are good for anyone, then at least believe that.”

Oliver let her words set in, washing over him like a balm. He squeezed her hand in thanks.

“You may not believe in yourself, but I do.” Felicity said earnestly.

Oliver stood up. “Come here.” he tugged on her hand, pulling her up and into his arms. “Thank you.”

Felicity returned the embrace, then pulled back. “I hate to ruin this moment because you rarely give out hugs.”

A breathy laugh escaped him.

“But do you still plan on leaving?” Felicity asked.

“No.” Oliver answered. “I promise I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here for whatever you need.”

Felicity nodded, relieved, laying her head against his chest. The beat of his heart and his arms tightening around her made her feel like they were in this together and she needed that.

Oliver promised himself that this was the one thing he would not fail.

Felicity believed in him and he found that was enough to quiet his demons.

#olicity #olicity fanfic #oliver queen #felicity smoak #oliver x felicity #fanfic

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anhed-nia · 2 years

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BLOGTOBER 10/4/2022: ISLE OF THE DEAD (1945)

ISLE OF THE DEAD tells you what it's up to right away when it makes the following, rather accusative statement:

"Under conquest and oppression the people of Greece allowed their legends to degenerate into superstition; the Goddess Aphrodite giving way to the Vorvolaka."

I don't know if I'm ready to dissect the idea that this Greek vampire concept is a specific corruption of the goddess of love and fertility…but it's certainly an option! In the meantime, if you must allow your legends to degenerate, at least let it be under conquest and oppression. In spite of this transparent setup for a thriller whose central villain is delusional belief, the film is still surprising and disturbing in execution. It is the fourth collaboration of producer Val Lewton with director Mark Robson (following horror outings THE SEVENTH VICTIM and GHOST SHIP), and scribe Ardel Wray (on the heels of I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE and THE LEOPARD MAN), and it is as beguiling and sophisticated as that may suggest.

The 1945 production takes place during the Balkan Wars of 1912, planting the viewer in the middle of a veritable potters field of dead and dying soldiers (causing me to wonder how many graphically cynical movies about war were produced in the US at this time). In this setting, plucky American journalist Oliver Davis (Marc Cramer) encounters the singularly dogmatic General Pherides (Boris Karloff)—also known as the Watchdog—in the midst of executing a commanding officer for allowing his troops to lag during a deployment. After Oliver witlessly insults the memory of the General's wife, he promises to accompany him to the island where the the woman is buried. Jarringly, they find that all the tombs there have been looted, and now they are trapped with a group of people beset by septicemic plague. There, as the opening text suggests, the native Greeks are overcome by their inveterate cultural fear of vampires, as the international characters wait and pray for the arid sirroco winds to arrive and burn off the pestilence.

The Watchdog is proud of having survived a rural, superstitious upbringing to become a man of strict reason. Unfortunately, this is soon undone by the poisonous whispers of Madame Kyra (Helene Thimig), the housekeeper of his host, Swiss archeologist Dr. Aubrecht (Jason Robards, Sr.). The two focus their phobia on lovely young Thea (Ellen Drew), who isn't sickly enough for their liking as the other guests rapidly waste away. Madame Kyra appeals to the Watchdog's Greek heritage, convincing him that whatever fears prick up in him are the result of his latent ability to perceive things that the foreigners cannot. Thus emboldened, the General destroys any means of escape and subjects Thea to a campaign of terror and surveillance, driving the whole episode to an inevitably violent, hysterical conclusion.

Though we don't doubt that the supernatural element of the story lies only in the minds of Kyra and the Watchdog, ISLE OF THE DEAD still weaves a hallucinatory spell that deranges one's rational feeling. The island itself is designed after symbolist painter Arnold Böcklin's popular painting of the same name, which is generally regarded to depict the psychopomp Charon transporting souls to their final destination. Layers of spiritual belief—folk, hermetic, christian—overlap as the doomed characters cry out for aid when science fails to save them. A feverish hand-washing montage is one of the most striking images in the film, and the logical explanation for various disturbing events provides little comfort: for instance, Dr. Aubrecht's confession that the grave robberies were ultimately his fault, as he made it so profitable for the locals to provide him with artifacts to study. It seems that destructive spiritual belief has snuck in where civilized society has collapsed, reinforcing order in its own perverse way.

Order itself is always in question in ISLE OF THE DEAD, as various ideologies compete with and destroy each other, rather than falling into a hierarchy. The Watchdog receives a cold welcome from those on the island who remember his ruthless tax collection techniques. "Who is against the law of Greece is not a Greek!" he defends himself, and Thea retorts, "Laws can be wrong, laws can be cruel. And the people who live only by the law are both wrong and cruel." Her statement applies both to his military career, and to the resurgence of his faith in the folklore with which he was raised. In the bigger picture, these people are failed even by the laws of hygiene, as one after another of them succumbs to the plague, and standard medical procedures fail to determine who is properly dead, and who is still alive.

In this sense ISLE OF THE DEAD is a truly apocalyptic film, in which one is failed just as badly by spirituality as by established scientific principle. Even the line between life and death is unreasonably hard to determine, which surely reflects the psychological state of affairs for people just barely emerging from World War II. I'm sure finer minds than mine have commented on this extensively, so I'll leave it there, but regardless of your historical acumen, the film remains a singularly haunting work of 20th century art.

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horanghaechan · 2 years

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LOVER (M.G) - Chapter 4

pairing: Michael Gray x original female character chapter: 4 pov: written in 3rd person genre: ‘rivals to lovers’, romance, mature content/smut, fluffy? warnings: S3 spoilers, non canon stuff. main character is BRAZILIAN therefore, there are references to 1920's brazil. keep in mind that the world at that time wasn't like the world we live nowadays, so there are offensive behaviours along the story. read at your own risk. english is not my first language, so any mistakes please tell me <3 disclaimer: this is the english translation of my portuguese fic 'Lover', based on Taylor Swift songs and Peaky Blinders S1-S3. This is PURE fanfiction.

London, England, 1924

Maria Clara had just arrived from Lady Theodora’s house after an Afternoon Tea – that served to explain the entire chaotic situation of the past week. Both Thea and Louis were very sorry for Tommy’s premature widowhood and made sure to double the amount of the donation they made on the charity dinner.

The truth is that Marie didn’t want to take money from her friends for that reason... She didn’t even understand what happened: someone entered the party, according to Polly’s reports, shouted ‘For Angel’ and shot Grace. There was also another issue, confirmed by Tommy and Arthur, about the sapphire necklace Grace wore that night being cursed. Obviously, Marie preferred to cling to that explanation, for acknowledging that Angel had masterminded an entire plan of extreme retaliation for what the Blinders had done on Tommy’s wedding (and to his restaurant) was too disturbing.

If he lost Lizzie, Tommy lost Grace... The main difference, though: Lizzie was alive.

She shook her head, tired and sad. Things weren’t looking good, and watching Tommy go all the way back into his dark side was frightening.

As she opened the door to Ada’s living room, her dismay grew.

“What are you doing here?!”

“I tried to contact you several times, and Louis told me that you’d be together in the afternoon.” Robert stood up, holding a bouquet of white roses. “Papa’s going to make a big donation to the Institute and asked you to tell Mr. Shelby there’s a party at our country house this weekend...”

“You could have called Arrow House, he’s there.”

“We called, but he’s not answering.” He gave her the flowers. “We, the Pearsons, are very sorry for Grace’s death. We also sent a condolence letter to him.”

“I see. Thanks.” She looked at the bouquet. “I thank you on Tommy’s behalf.”

“We know he’s not ready to return to social circles yet, but in the name of the Pearson’s and Barbosa’s friendship, Papa thinks you should go as a representative of the Shelby Company... To calm rumours down and pretend to have everything under control.”

“Of course.” Marie nodded professionally. “I will discuss this with the boys, and I’ll call back to confirm my presence later. Need something else?”

“No.” The man looked uncertain. “I mean… Is it safe for you to stay here alone? After all the Shelbys been through... Wouldn’t you rather stay with us at Pearson House?”

“I’m not alone, as you could see from the housekeeper who let you in.”

“But there is none...”

“Isaiah and Finn are here, too.” She quipped. “I appreciate the concern, but I’m safe.”

“Alright.” Robert got up. “Still, Pearson House is always open for you, if you see it fit.” He adjusted his coat and hat. “We’ll be waiting for your call.”

Marie remained seated with the flowers on her lap. It was just what she needed! As if she’d ever consider staying with the Pearsons, willingly subjecting herself to psychological torture! She already had enough problems with the Blinders, she didn’t need more.

“Gray.” She heard Robert’s voice at the top of the stairs.

Gray?

Had she conjured her main problem?

Or was he the Devil himself?

“Pearson.” Michael’s hoarse and low timbre was unmistakable.

Maria Clara moved quickly, heading for the door to close and lock it before he reached it, but it was in vain. The moment she touched the doorknob, Michael walked in.

“Milady.” He had a slightly cynical expression, however, his jaw was set and that only made him fifteen times more handsome. She stared at his green eyes, then at his mouth. “You weren’t trying to lock me outside, were you?”

“Of course not!” She snapped. Liar. “I just escorted Robert to the door.”

“Of the living room? How sweet of you, Your Grace.”

“I’m polite to those who deserve it.” She lifted his chin, hating herself for behaving so childishly on his presence.

Michael’s attention was fixed on a spot behind her, and Marie looked over her shoulder, trying to identify what it was. On the sofa, there were the flowers.

“Ah, yes.” He let out a chuckle. “Especially when they give you gifts, I suppose?”

“They’re not for me, they’re for Tommy and Grace.”

“And why didn’t he take them to Arrow House?”

“Tommy is not receiving.” Marie said through gritted teeth.

“But you are.” Michael walked past her, studying the bouquet and sitting down.

“What do you want, Mr. Gray?”

“A shot of whiskey, to begin with.” He discarded the roses, tossing them onto the side table and relaxing on the sofa.

“Feel free to pour it yourself, pretend the house is yours.” Stomping, she took a seat in the armchair that Robert was before. “What is the reason for your illustrious visit?”

“Well…” He got to his feet, taking off his suit jacket.

Maria Clara swallowed hard at the sight. She’d always loved that kind of outfit, and the Blinders were known for their great style… Michael wasn’t far behind. With each new suit, Marie was sure she’d never seen a man so gloriously dressed. The vest was her personal favourite, and it looked even better when she could see the silver armbands holding the shirt close to his elbow. Even though most of the boys dressed similarly, Michael managed to carry the outfit more elegantly than anyone else.

Maybe he really was different.

With his back to her, Marie had a few seconds to memorise his shoulders and entire torso, down to his pants and… She shouldn’t be staring at his ass, right?

After helping himself, Michael leaned against the sideboard and sipped his drink.

“I came to announce that, apparently, Tommy is receiving. He wants to see us Monday night. And by ‘see us’, I mean you too.”

Oh.

That was a surprise.

“Did he explain why? Isn’t it too early for him to be back at work?”

“I wouldn’t know.” He shrugged. “Mum says he’s using it as an excuse not to face grief, but being Tommy, I’m not really sure.”

“Poor lad.” Marie sighed. “It must be terrible to lose the love of your life.”

“And that’s why I’ll never fall in love.” Lifting his glass, Michael simulated a toast.

“How’s that?” She gave a nervous laugh. Now what?!

“Yeah. I’m not going to fall in love and risk going through what he’s going through, not to mention the whole feeling is a huge distraction from business.”

“I don’t see how you could prevent that from happening.”

“Well, just watch.”

“I don’t want not to fall in love.” She grimaced. She didn’t want to be in love with him, but she couldn’t give up the feeling altogether. After all, when the right man come along, Marie should be ready and with an open heart.

“Typical of women.”

“The last time I checked, I was one!” She retorted. Soon, her cheeks flushed as she grasped the suggestion the phrase offered. It was a bad choice of words!

“My, my.” Even with the distance between them and few lights on, Marie noticed the glint of mischief in Michael’s eyes. “If it isn’t an interesting scene, eh?”

The man was abominable!

“Now that you’ve given the message, why don’t you go away? I’d like to rest.”

“Go away? Where, if I’m to sleep here?”

Marie wanted to bust her head open in the corner of the fireplace.

“If you’re going to stay, then I’ll drink too.” She got up, already drained of energy. Arguing with him was fun and stimulating, but exhausting.

“As much as you drank at Tommy’s wedding?”

“What did you say?” She froze.

“Everyone noticed that you and Lizzie were drunk. Crazy and drunk.”

“We had our reasons, okay?!” She lifted her chin, as she had been taught to do to command respect. “And no, I won’t drink that much tonight.”

Michael, despite his chagrin, served her.

“What did Robert want here besides the flowers?

“Nothing much.” Marie dismissed. She’d talk with Tommy, John, Arthur and Polly about the party… As soon as she arrived in Birmingham.

“I doubt that. I heard him say something about Pearson House being open to you and a call.” Michael’s brow rose.

“Why don’t you mind your own business?!”

“Because I already did that today, now I want to snoop on yours.” He smirked.

“Is there anything else you need to do? What about Isaiah and Finn? Maybe you guys can hang around and leave me alone, huh? Maybe Charlotte wants your company...”

His smile grew.

“Oddly enough, I’m quite unoccupied tonight.”

Maria Clara gave up. She shook her head and sat back down with her whiskey glass. Right now, she’d give anything for a chocolate cake and her father’s hug. Not caring about being unchaperoned or the fact that her visitor was a man, Marie got rid of her shoes and socks, relaxing her feet on the armchair’s support stool.

“What’s it? Have I annoyed you enough already?”

“Oddly enough, yes.” She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“You’re no fun at all, Your Grace.”

“I was serious about wanting to rest, Michael.”

“If I promise to keep quiet, can I stay here?”

“You can do whatever you want, as long as you keep quiet.” She nodded.

Because her eyes were closed, Maria Clara didn’t see the devilish smile he opened. Michael approached the couch, rolling his shirt sleeves up to his forearms. Getting rid of his shoes, he took out a cigarette, already expecting their next argument. He blew a lot of smoke and cleared his throat like Tommy usually would do… But Marie didn’t bother. He wanted to stand by the armchair and smoke right on her face, even if it was childishness at its peak, and it’d make her hate him even more.

They heard loud noises and men’s laughter, signalling that Finn and Isaiah had arrived from wherever they had gone. Maria Clara opened her eyes slowly, finding Michael’s attention fixed on her… It was terrifying, and at the same time, delicious. He didn’t usually even acknowledge that she was close — unless he wanted to piss her off.

“Is there something on my face?” Marie mimicked him.

“No.” He grinned, bringing the cigarette to his lips.

Isaiah walked into the room feeling the weirdness of that moment. He didn’t expect Maria Clara and Michael to be in the same place in silence, barefoot and with him smoking so close to her without stressing her out.

“I didn’t know we had a visitor.” He commented. “Look Finn, your cousin came.”

“Weren’t you going to spend the night at Lady Tumblewood’s house?” Finn turned to Marie, confused.

“Me? Never! Edward is in that crying-all-night phase and I’m not very tactful with children under two who aren’t from my family.” Marie faked a quiver, as if to indicate fear. “Besides, tomorrow I have to leave early.”

“And she had other people to see.” Michael feigned indifference.

“Oh?” Isaiah sat in the other armchair. “Who?”

“Pearson.”

“Michael.” Marie growled.

“What? Did I lie?” He batted his lashes in false innocence.

“What did he want here? Who let him in?” It was cute that Finn was angry.

“He came to bring flowers for Tommy and Grace, because he couldn’t get in touch with him before. I received them in their name and thanked him, just that.” Marie waved a hand. “It was not a big deal.”

“And he invited her to live at his mansion whenever she wants.”

“Michael!”

“Did I lie?”

“For Lord’s sake, you annoying prick!” She rolled her eyes, livid. “Listen, don’t you guys have anywhere to take Michael tonight?”

The three of them laughed and she felt like a clown.

“Is it true that Pearson told you that?! You didn’t accept it, did you?”

“Of course not! The day I voluntarily agree to be under the same roof as Robert for more than a few hours, you can take me to a madhouse!”

“We’ll keep that in mind.” Michael stubbed out his cigarette. “Are you lot hungry?”

After the boys’ positive replies, Marie got up and rang the bell to call the housekeeper. They would eat in the living room instead of the dining room.

±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±

Wadbury Park, Mendip Hills, Somerset, England, 1924

Wadbury Park’s entrance seemed more antique than Maria Clara remembered, but just as beautiful and elegant. When she arrived in England, she had stayed there for a few weeks before going to Birmingham and, well, the bet happened.

Mrs. Pearson was at the door welcoming the guests; the matron smiled as Marie got out of the car, but her smile died when she saw Michael joining the Brazilian. His presence would be more than welcomed… After her plan to marry Marie into the family came true.

“Marie! Mr. Gray!” Golda waved. “What a pleasure to see you both!”

“Likewise, Mrs. Pearson.” Michael nodded politely.

“We came as a replacement for Tommy... And Grace.” Even though there was no need for an explanation, Marie felt she had to clarify. “I hope this won’t be a problem.”

“Of course not!” The effusive denial indicated that yes, it would.

Mrs. Pearson expected Marie to come alone, so she didn’t get any other rooms prepared besides the one next to her son. Now, with Michael, she’d have to change Marie’s location so they could be close to each other… And this would make it quite hard for Robert.

“Everyone’s in the game room eating and drinking while we wait for the remaining guests to arrive. Gilbert will accompany you.” Mrs. Pearson indicated a butler behind her.

“Thank you.” Marie smiled politely.

The first night offered a cocktail instead of dinner. Next day there would be field activities and a picnic lunch. If she was honest, Maria Clara would say she was looking forward to getting in touch with nature after so long... Maybe they’d let her take her usual horse and spend all day riding around Wadbury’s lands.

She decided on a champagne dress and her emerald earrings. But right after she’d arrived at the ballroom, Mrs. Pearson didn’t even give her time to breathe, escorting her to a group of ladies, and consequently, keeping her close by until Robert finished talking to his father’s friends. Scanning the entire space, as Lady Fauxton commented about her favourite book for the month, Marie saw Michael surrounded by women.

There weren’t a lot of them, for the majority at that party were already married or elderly, but... About four or five of marriageable age and, as far as she was concerned, single.

Jesus Christ! She sounded like her own mother!

Shaking her head slightly, she tried not to notice the dark suit he wore, nor the cigarette he smoked... He should be arrested for being so handsome!

It was very sad to admire him from afar, and to be forced to digest the butterflies that took over her stomach every time she saw him… Or when she heard his voice or he called her by her name… Even when he annoyed her.

Jealousy stressed her out, since it was stupid to feel that way for someone you didn’t have a relationship with. One that, probably, she would never have – he himself had said he wouldn’t fall in love. She had loved him for almost three years now and it was such a waste of time! Maybe she should reconsider marrying Robert, after all.

Don’t.

She wouldn’t relate to those dumb ideas! Not after everything he did!

Someday a man would come along and shake her world like Michael did, but the difference was that he would love her too. And they would live happily ever after, just like she deserved.

“Marie, we’re going to start the orchestra. Would you like to dance first with my Robert?” Mrs. Pearson inquired, knowing that it’d be impolite for the girl to deny it.

“Sure.” Marie faked a smile. “What is the first piece?”

“A waltz.”

Maria Clara wanted to curse... Loudly.

Bitch.

“Swell.”

As Robert approached her, Marie felt ashamed that she had reconsidered marrying him. Again, it’s not that he was ugly or a really bad person… But, well, he had bet her for a horse! That said a lot about the kind of husband he would be, right?

The two waltzed in silence, as there was nothing to be said. She focused her attention on their footsteps and the melody, her eyes fixed on Robert’s tie.

Michael changed his drink after finishing his cigar. He took a deep breath, blocking out the voices around him. Maybe he could escape to the garden without anyone noticing... It would be awful if he had to ask one of those girls to dance or be coerced to do so.

Excusing himself, as if he’d found someone, he headed for the French doors that led into the hall. When he was in the hallway to the hall, he heard voices close by.

“Robert, no.” It was Maria Clara.

“Please! I promise we won’t stay more than five minutes.” The prick begged. “Just so Mom will get happy and not make me ask you for another dance.”

“No, Robert.” She retorted, firmly. “And I’d like you to let go off me.”

“I know I’m not your favourite person in the world, but...”

Michael rolled his eyes, his body moving before he could finish listening to whatever bullshit Pearson had to say. With strong steps, he entered the hall.

“Oh, there you are!” He hollered as soon as he laid eyes on her. She was tense, posture as straight as ever, her face contorted in quivering discomfort.

“Michael!”

“I’ve looked for you everywhere!” He stopped by her side. “Thought you had left and given up showing me the garden.” Of all silly things he could say, that was the biggest one.

“Oh, by all means!” She nodded quickly. “I was dancing with Robert, but now I’m free. Shall we go, then?! There’s an entrance out there, to one end of it.”

Would Michael regret that later? Probably. However, Marie seemed so desperate to get out of there that he couldn’t stop himself.

“You don’t mind if I steal Maria Clara for a few minutes, do you?” Turning to Robert with a scowl, he offered his hand, as if proving that he didn’t need to drag Marie by force.

“Of course not.” Robert released her. “Please, make yourself at home.”

“Thanks.” Michael closed his fingers over hers, holding them together.

With long strides, they went out into the garden. The light poles were on, helping them to see the path clearly, the yellowish glow reflecting on her dress. Although they had already distanced themselves from the house, their hands were still intertwined.

“Thank you for that.” She broke the silence.

“What did he want?”

“It wasn’t a big deal.” The fact that she flinched and crinkled her nose indicated that yes, it was a big deal.

“Then why did you look like you were about to run away?”

“It’s just that I don’t like being around him anymore, after... You know.”

“Indeed.” Michael nodded. “But what did he want?” He pressed.

She laughed humourlessly.

“To spend a few minutes together in the library so Mrs. Pearson would think we were getting along again and... Well, leave us alone.”

“That’s the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard in my life!”

“Pardon?!”

“Pearson wanted to be alone with you for a reason, Maria Clara, and he was using his mother as an excuse. It’s not very hard to figure out what would happen once you were found there with him.” Michael rolled his eyes, stopping next to a bench and staring at her. “Peace would be the last thing you’d have after that.”

Marie was astonished... She couldn’t believe it. Robert wouldn’t be a scoundrel... In fact, he wasn’t smart enough to plan such things!

“That’s absurd, Michael.”

“Go there and test your luck, then.”

She shook her head in denial.

“He’s not that smart.”

“It doesn’t really take wisdom to get under a lady’s skirts, Your Grace.”

“Michael!”

“Did I lie?”

“Precisely! A gentleman wouldn’t do such a thing!”

“Oh, so we’re talking about nobility.” He smirked.

“More or less. I mean, not only nobility of blood, but of character.”

“And you consider Robert a gentleman?”

“Yes, despite not being born ‘with a title’, he has all the other attributes.”

“Even after he bet you for a horse?”

“That was...”

“Or tried to force you to go with him to an empty library?” He interrupted her.

“Well, I think they were... Two desperate and childish attitudes?!”

Michael let out a sneer.

“If those ‘desperate moves’ still make him a gentleman, then I wrote the etiquette book!” His voice dripped with sarcasm and outrage.

“What I mean is that I know Robert’s a slob, but apart from those two occasions, he hasn’t done anything more alarming that spoiled his good manners.” She rolled her eyes. “And yes, Michael, I think that when you’re not trying to be the biggest scoundrel alive, your manners are remarkable. Thea also agrees with me!”

Not like that, but he needn’t know it.

“Are you complimenting me?” A smug smile curled on his lips.

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Marie was about to raise her hands as a reflex of her anger, when she realised that they were still intertwined. She’d gotten so comfortable with his touch that she’d just… Forgotten to let go of him. Her cheeks coloured in a blink. “You can let go of my hand now, please.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said you can let go off me now.” She shook her arm.

Michael did it as if he’d been burnt.

“Well,” Marie cleared her throat. “And what did you choose for tomorrow’s activity? Will you participate in the games or just the picnic?”

Wow, what a sudden change of subject. However, Michael preferred it that way, because if she hadn’t said anything, he would’ve stayed there, mortified with himself.

The next morning was sunny and begging for a ride. Ana Vera had separated Maria Clara’s usual riding attire – unlike English fashion dictated, Brazil had accepted the use of pants for ladies when they practiced sports, following the French style. The riding hat was also different: she would wear a sailor hat, which was smaller and very delicate, adorned with a ribbon of the colour of her riding coat.

“If every time I wear something ‘atypical’ meanwhile mixed up with the Ton a tragedy happens, we’ll go back to Brazil, okay?” She looked at her lady’s maid.

“Are you sure you don’t want to put the dress on?”

“Yeah. I don’t even remember how to ride sideways.”

“I don’t think they’ll let you use some other saddle, Marie.”

“Nonsense.” Marie stood up, putting on her hat. “I’ve been here before and did it.”

As she had not gone down for breakfast, instead eating in her room, Maria Clara managed to hide from everyone until the barn – it was still early, and many were either sleeping or eating. Her luck increased when she noticed that she was alone with the horses. Her other visits to Wadbury Park made her familiar to their horses, so she knew which ones could be ‘shared’ and which had specific riders. And her favourite was a shared one.

“Hello.” She smiled at the bay. “Do you remember me, Aeon?”

First, what made her like him the most was his name. Aeon, in Greek mythology, meant ‘eternity’, one of the names for the titan Chronos (her favourite titan) – Marie was passionate about Greece, mythology and their meanings. Then, the American Quarter was really smart and friendly, in addition to having a beautiful chestnut coat.

The Brazilian remained alone while she prepared the horse. Taking advantage of her stride of luck, she dashed with Aeon toward the field, beyond the lake and the orchard.

Michael walked along with Lord Tumblewood and Stanford, Pearson’s best friends (of course the giant arse didn’t show up), to the stable. The two of them showed him the family horses and which ones were the best to ride.

“And here we have Aeon.” Stanford pointed to an empty stall.

“Where?”

“Here.” The man stared into the empty space, aghast. “Where is he, Louis?”

“I don’t know?! Robert swore that all the horses would be here, especially Aeon, as he is Marie’s favourite.” The other frowned.

At the sound of her name, Michael connected the dots. It was obvious Maria Clara had taken the animal, since Ana Vera told him that ‘Milady had gone out in her riding habit early in the morning’. The shocking part was that it was past noon and she hadn’t returned.

“Is there a horse I can take now?”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I want to ride it?!” Michael raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, well, it makes sense.” Louis nodded. “You can use Fjør, he is fast and tough. I usually ride him when I come to Wadbury, so it’s been trained as well.”

“Thanks.”

Fjør didn’t need much encouragement to start trotting. As Michael was also a thoroughbred English owner, he knew they were powerful and quite temperamental, so he had no difficulty dealing with that race. He let the horse choose its course, as he had no idea how big the property was. With luck, he’d bump into Maria Clara somewhere.

Almost five minutes after starting to explore the land, he spotted a giant mahogany-coloured smudge, and on top of that, a mix of dark and light blur, resembling the figure of a woman. Which was odd, since in England ladies didn’t ride astride. However, the lady in question differed a little from the others present at the party – after all, she was a Blinder. The contrast increased as he came closer, taking in her clothing. To everyone in his family or in Birmingham, this was no surprise, but to the Ton...

Trousers.

Maria Clara was wearing trousers.

If there was an inch of notion inside her head, it certainly worked at a specific time. Or it was Michael who couldn’t handle the fact that Marie was, actually, a woman. The green gown… He still had nightmares (or were they dreams?) about that night.

Aeon made a quick turn, not in the opposite direction, but towards Fjør. He stopped his trot, waiting for the stallion to catch up.

“Good morning, Your Grace.”

“Michael.” She greeted him, panting and blushing. Michael’s eyes scanned her thighs marked by the trousers, and her calf covered by the tight boots.

“Enjoying your morning?”

“Yes, very much.” Marie nodded. “Aeon and I were going to the orchard to rest, weren’t we, garotão?” The last bit came out in Portuguese, just like she used to call Apollo.

‘Big boy’.

The Brit’s attention went from the delicate hands that caressed the horse’s mane to her torso, boobs not so evident thanks to the frilly blouse. However, he remembered what they looked like… Because the green gown didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“Orchard?”

“Yeah. The Pearsons have a relatively large area for apple farming here, and the pasture is better than on the rest of the property.” Marie indicated some trees after the lake. “Do you want to join us?”

“Want to race over there?”

“Whoever loses will have a penalty?”

“Of course... Maybe do something the other wants, without questioning or nagging?” Michael suggested.

“So, you’ll stop smoking near me for a week.” Maria Clara winked, and without warning, rushed ahead with Aeon.

Michael chuckled and followed her, but he was at a disadvantage since she left early and he didn’t knew how to get to the orchard. Still, the small ‘race’ was fun. It had been a long, long time since he felt as free and relaxed as he did in that moment.

Judging by Fjør, the horse felt the same way.

Maria Clara was grinning like a champion as she let Aeon graze near a tree that, despite trying hard to learn about plants, she had no idea what it was called. Michael showed up soon after, and she braced herself for a scolding about cheating.

“John thought you wouldn’t last three days with us; but the truth is that you were born to be a Blinder. Cheats even in a friendly race...” He clicked his tongue, making a ‘tsk’.

“I’ve learned from the best.” She took off her hat, fixing her hair. “Pedro also had a habit of cheating and I ended up realizing that either I did the same, or I would always lose to him. Papa says I have a competitive nature.”

“You’re very close to them, aren’t you? Sometimes I hear you on the phone with your family, I don’t understand a damn thing you’re saying, I just notice that the tone of your voice becomes different.”

“It could be because of Portuguese, you know? They say it changes when we speak another language.”

“I didn’t know, but I think it’s not only that. It seems softer, more affectionate?!”

Marie blinked in surprise. That he paid attention to her while talking to her father was shocking enough, but that he noticed any change in her voice was unthinkable. Could she feel important and slightly happy for finding that out?!

Was that a compliment or just an observation?

“Well, I’m very close to them, yes.” She stared at the sky. “I don’t want to talk about it or else I’ll cry.”

“Then talk about my penalty. You won, I’m yours to torture.”

Maria Clara lowered her attention to him. It was so unusual for them to be sharing a truce, even more so after she’d cheated in a ‘friendly race’. And now, he was hers… For a penalty, but anyway! Michael should mind what she said.

There was an idea crippling in, but Marie knew it would be the biggest humiliation ever, and she wasn’t willing to go through it like that.

“Can I choose it later? There’s a lot to consider.”

“Sure.”

Turning her back on him, Maria Clara studied the tree Aeon was tied to. It was big, full of branches and the trunk had some depressions that would serve just fine for climbing. When she was younger and didn’t have to worry about etiquette, she used to climb trees with her brothers; as soon as she grew up, she did it when she went out to help her father with something on the farm and there was no one around to see her. Taking a deep breath, she took the urge and leaned into one of the spaces to start climbing.

“Marie?” Michael’s voice indicated confusion.

“One second, I’m almost there.” She curled up on a branch and wrapped her legs around it, just like a sloth would do. With one last thrust, she turned and managed to sit up.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

“Reliving my childhood.”

“Did you climb trees back then?”

“Is there a child in the world who hasn’t?”

“Possibly not.” Michael shook his head, frowning. In less than a second, he’d took off his blazer and followed her.

Maria Clara took a brief moment to analyse him. The casual attire without the vest was accompanied by a suspender, which looked just as beautiful on him and made her furious. He was so handsome! Manly! Captivating!

And seeing him there, propped up between the trunk and the branch she was on, was possibly the closest she’d ever known to ‘Henry’, Michael’s past.

“Did you also do that at home?”

“A lot. I didn’t know your parents let girls do such… Boyish activities.”

“I have two older brothers, Michael. There was nothing Mama would forbid that João or Pedro wouldn’t help me do later, without supervision... Well, until they were teenagers and changed completely, then I had to learn to get by alone.”

“Ah, so you were always a Blinder.” He smiled at her, amused.

And her world stopped spinning.

It was a different smile. It wasn’t cynical nor forced. He smiled as if it was natural for Marie to make him smile, as if they weren’t always quarrelling and almost at war. Her heart, once so resolute in seeking a new man to adore, decided that it was enough. Perhaps she would never find eyes as bright and uniquely green as his, or a voice so husky and pleasant to hear, let alone a jaw so sharp and shoulders so broad.

She was pathetic and fully aware of that fact.

“Is there something on my face, Your Grace?” The question came out softly, pulling her out of her reverie.

“Michael,” She cleared her throat, shaking her head. “I think it’s almost lunchtime and Mrs. Pearson is probably looking for me.”

“I see.” He nodded, jumping to the floor. “Need help getting down?”

Marie denied it, but as she returned to the trunk, she realised that it might be necessary. Her boots were quite slippery in the heels, and it would be impossible to stand on tiptoes there. Her face flushed at the thought of falling to the ground.

“Michael?”

“Yes?”

“Maybe I’ll need it; my feet don’t fit here and the sole is slippery.”

“Try to stand up and throw your body forward, I’ll catch you.”

“I can’t, they don’t fit!”

“From above, milady.” He rolled his eyes. “No, forget it! It’s best if you go back to the branch and hang by your arms as you did before, I’ll pull you by the legs.”

“E-excuse me?!” She stammered. “Y-you can’t...”

“Do you prefer to fall to the ground like an apple?”

“I hate it when you’re right.” She huffed.

Marie tried to focus on what she was doing, but her mind went blank at the thought of him putting his hands on her legs, on her thighs. No man had ever touched her like that before! And he would… Her face burned, and it wasn’t from the effort of holding still.

Michael realised that it’d be a little embarrassing for her, of course, but if he was going to be honest with himself, he was having fun. However, the joyful feeling ended when he stopped practically below her ass; he then turned, so he could be in front of her knees. It took a few seconds for him to reach out and grab her by the calf, pulling her to him. His touch travelled upwards as her body went down.

Soon they were face to face, his hands on her hips.

Her cheeks were flushed and her eyelids were half-closed… The same expression of a woman after an orgasm. Alright. No way. That wasn’t the right time for thoughts like that and Maria Clara wasn’t the right girl for them. Definitely out of boundaries, forbidden access! Still, the seed had been planted, and as if there were no moral left in his head, Michael imagined scenes of what it would be like if the two of them slept together. They came naturally, having his hands on her waist didn’t help it at all.

When he tried to pull away, his feet didn’t move, and she grabbed his arm.

That was absurd.

“I know what your penalty is.”

Air caught in his throat.

Deep down, Michael knew it too.

“What?”

Instead of answering, Maria Clara just got closer and kissed him.

‘Kissed’ wasn’t the best definition, for she didn’t know what to do – she’d never been kissed before. So, after a few seconds, she pulled away completely.

“Oh. W-well, that was spectacular.” She alleged, panicking. “Thank you. We’re done. Now I-I’m going to...” Her freaking out was cut off by Michael’s mouth.

He pressed her against him and against the tree, trapping her. Spectacular?! In which planet did Maria Clara live on? Had Robert never... Or had she never...? The answer was obvious from the tension in her entire body; it was like kissing a statue.

“Two people, Your Grace.” He whispered against her lips. “It takes two people for a kiss to happen. If you stand still, there’s no way.”

“I-I don’t know what to do.” Marie sounded unsure. “I’ve never... It’s my first time.”

As insane as it was, Michael revelled in her statement. He was a young man and a gypsy by blood, there was a wild spirit running through his veins, and knowing that he was Maria Clara’s first made the beast wake up. Ambitious and insatiable were also some of his characteristics. Did she want ‘spectacular’? ‘Spectacular’ she would have.

Opening his eyes, he focused on her honey-coloured irises, reaching for her delicate hands and placing them on his shoulders. Cupping Marie’s cheek, Michael took it easy, making her comfortable. As ambitious as he was, he was never selfish; so, if it was good for him, it should be good for her too. He gave her quick peck, then a longer one. When he felt her relaxing, he stayed longer, opening his mouth slightly and teasing her with his tongue, then backing away again. Maria Clara squeezed his shoulders, lifting her chin ever so slightly that if he had been a little further away, he wouldn’t have noticed. He repeated the kiss from before, caressing her face and stoking her curiosity. This time, Marie mimicked him as if she had understood what was happening – despite not being the complete truth. However, nothing could have prepared her for that moment.

It was awkward, wet, mind-changing and completely glorious.

Michael pressed her more tightly against the trunk and kissed her for real. He didn’t pull away nor tried to control it. She could feel the change in his body, as if she had opened an animal’s cage and it was famished... She was the feast. Letting her instincts command too, Marie allowed herself to wrap her arms around his neck, one hand resting at the back of his neck and lightly scratching the well-cut hair there. The intensity between them increased, leaving the atmosphere thick as she tried to understand all that giving and taking, while Michael sank into an abyss of pleasure, innocence and lust.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #michael gray fanfic #michael gray x reader #michael gray

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like-a-bag-of-potatoes · 3 years

Text

Our Story - Prologue

theA/N: My first Chris Evans series. This is just a fluffy little series that has been floating around in my brain for a while, and because I've recently fallen head first into the Chris trashcan, I figured he’d be the perfect person for this little love story AU. I mean absolutely no disrespect with this, it's just a work of fiction. I also want to give a huge thank you to @percywinchester27 and @girl-next-door-writes for being my betas for this story. You are both amazing and I'm so grateful for your help on this.

Chapter: One

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader (unfortunately no Chris in this part)

Warnings: Absolutely none.

Wordcount: 1850

Four weeks after my twentieth birthday, I left my childhood home in Savannah, Georgia, and pointed my nose towards New York. It was hard to believe that eight years had passed already, but my twenty-eighth birthday approached in large strides to remind me of how much time had passed, and how much had changed. New York City was a stark contrast to Savannah, the city that never sleeps VS the most charming city in America. When I first moved here, it was my intention to stay for only a year, then I would be back in Savannah with my family and the man that I loved so deeply, Josh.

However, life never really turns out how you intend it to, no matter how much you plan for your future. Josh and I used to talk at length about our future together, and I honestly couldn't wait to get started on it all, house, careers, and then a family of our own at some point. Then, after eight or so months of long-distance we finally broke and admitted to ourselves that it was just too hard. I know you might think that since we had stuck it out for that long, we surely could manage a few more months, but by then I had been asked to stay on in what was supposed to be a temporary position, and I had fallen in love, not only with the city, but with my work. I asked Josh to come to me, told him we could find ourselves a little apartment in Queens, or the East Village, something we could afford, and we could spend a few years together here before moving back home to start a family. I guess you’ve already figured it didn't turn out that way, and it ended, as long-distance relationships often do, in heartbreak. It was my first real heartbreak- amicable, civil, and soul-crushing. It was also then I realized, as we all, unfortunately, do at some point in our lives, that love does not, in fact, conquer all.

If I'm being completely honest, I knew within my first month in this magical city that I would never want to leave, and after things ended with Josh, I felt as though I had deceived him in some cruel, unintentional way. Every conversation we had, had after that had been filled with lies and promises I never intended to keep. I had fooled myself as much as I had fooled him. After our break up, although completely heartbroken, I felt free and unburdened, which strangely made me feel even worse about the whole thing. Our love didn't end in some big blowout argument, or because we didn't want to be with one another. It ended because of the thousands of miles that separated us, and because in the months we spent apart, I changed in a way that could not have been foreseen. Never did I imagine myself in a big and busy city, but as I said, New York and me, it was love at first sight.

You might be wondering what job took me from my safe and comfortable life in Georgia, thinking that it must have been some grand, once in a lifetime thing. It was not. It was a temporary job as a personal assistant. I found it as I sat by my computer one night, daydreaming about what kind of life I would live if I had all the money in the world, what life Josh and I could create for ourselves. That's when I came across the ad. A woman, Mrs. Wallace, needed an assistant. She was a very wealthy woman in need of someone to keep track of her very busy social calendar, amongst other things. I knew she was wealthy because she lived on Fifth Avenue, not that I had ever been to New York and really knew what that entailed, but I had seen movies and read books placed in the city and knew very well that Fifth Avenue was a very expensive street. There was little to no description of the job or what Mrs. Wallace was looking for in an assistant, other than that they had to be organized and were able to juggle multiple things at once. Beyond that it really came down to compatibility. I was nothing if not organized, so before I knew it, I had compiled an application letter and sent to her email. I told no one about this, because it was ridiculous for me to think I'd even get a reply back. In all honesty, it had all been forgotten by the next morning, and I didn't think of it again until three days later when, at dinner with Josh I might add, I got an answer. She would like for us to meet. We sent a couple of emails back and forth where I tried to, as politely as possible, explain that I did not have the means to travel to New York just for an interview. I stated that I appreciated her interest, and apologized profusely for not being able to make it out there. It was then she asked for my details, and about fifteen minutes later I got a confirmation from American Airlines that my ticket had been booked and paid for. Two days later I was sitting opposite Mrs. Wallace at a restaurant that I would never be able to afford, listening to her talk about the job I had applied for and what she expected of me.

The very first thing that struck me about Mrs. Wallace was her age. For some reason, I had imagined someone in their fifties, full of botox, fillers, and whatever else middle-aged women put into their faces to look younger, but Mrs. Wallace was not that much older than me. At the time we met, she was twenty-seven, so younger than I am now, and strikingly beautiful. Thick, black hair that looked professionally blow-dried and sculpted so that not a single strand was out of place. It draped over her shoulders in loose Hollywood style waves and stood in sharp contrast to the white blazer she wore. Her skin was olive, her eyes deep brown, and her cheekbones could probably cut glass. When you put that together with her long, model-like legs, an hourglass waistline, and a very ample bosom, the woman looked like a greek goddess. To top it all off she had a warm and kind smile, and a kick-ass sense of humor. Kate, as she insisted I call her, was far from the stuck up, nose in the sky, botox filled woman that I had imagined in my head. We hit it off, and before dessert was served, I had a job offer.

It's hard to explain, but I felt as though I needed to take this opportunity, that this was an experience I was meant to have in some inexplicable way, and I accepted right then and there without a second thought, or even a conversation with my family or boyfriend. Josh was angry with me at first, but supportive, so two weeks later I stood in front of 1040 Fifth Avenue and looked up at the towering building with its limestone and intricate carvings here and there. Kate greeted me at the front door as I stepped out of the car that she had sent to pick me up from the airport. This place even had a porte-cochere to protect the residents from rain as they walked from the door to their private chauffeur-driven vehicles. I would be staying here with the Wallace family, in the staff quarters with the rest of the staff of course, so that I could be available to Kate at all times. And that's how my New York adventure started.

Eight years later, I am still working for Kate, still living in my little room in the staff quarters, but I love it. I have a little bathroom and everything I need. Food is prepared for us all by the cook, Rosalia. She is a little, plump woman in her mid-fifties, kind and compassionate, not to mention deeply passionate about the food she prepared for the whole household. Along with me and Rosalia, the other staff in our quarters are Magdalena, the housekeeper, and Mitch, who is Mr Wallace’s assistant. There was more staff, of course, like the private chauffeur’s, who didn't live on-site and throughout any given day, people would be in and out of the place like it was a busy office space as opposed to the home that it actually is.

Now, Mr Wallace was a very busy man, working non-stop whether it be at his office, or at his home office. It seemed as whenever I saw him, he was walking in fast strides, either on the phone, or confirming things with Mitch who half sprinted behind him with his I-pad, trying not to trip over anything as he tried to keep up and take down notes at the same time. Henry, that was Mr Wallace’s first name, was a little older than Kate, not so much that you could accuse her of being a gold digger, but he was approaching his fifties now. He didn't look it though, he was a very handsome man, and kind. Imagine George Clooney, a man that just seems to get more gorgeous with every passing year. Kate and Henry were busy, always had their hands full with whatever it was, but somehow they always found time to share a meal together every day. Even if it meant having Rosalia heat up some leftovers for them at midnight. They were very much in love, and it was clear in the way they looked at one another, and how they always made sure to have that little moment to themselves every day. A couple of years ago, Kate had confided in me that she could not have children of her own, it was something that had weighed on her since she was only sixteen years old, but with Henry, she said, ‘I have all I need with that man, all the love I could ever wish for.’ It was a shame really, because I knew that Kate would have made an amazing mother, and Henry a great dad. ‘I'm alright,’ she had assured me. ‘I've come to peace with it, and learned not to dwell on something that will never be.’

So, that's the short version of how I ended up here, doing a job I adored in a city I loved with all my heart, so I think it's about time we move forward. Jump to the part where my real story starts. Spoiler alert; it involves a warm summer day in Central Park, a ruined dress, and an extremely handsome man named Chris.

******

If you liked what you read, how about slamming that reblog button and help spread my work? If you leave a little comment on top of that, you’ll be in my heart forever.

Want a tag? I got you!! Just send me an ASK and I'll add you.

Tags: @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss

#Chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #Chris Evans series #chris evans au #OS #chris evans fluff

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thealmightyemprex · 2 years

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March of the 40's :Isle of the Dead

This 1945 film is about a group of people trapped on an island that has a plague,thus they must remain quarantined,however old housekeeper Kyra (Helen Thimig ) convinces the cold General Pherides (Boris Karloff ) that the young and healthy Thea (Ellen Drew )is actually a vorvolaka ,an undead evil being that is feeding on the sickly Mary St Aubryn (Katherine Emery ),and is actually the one responcible for the plague

So what you might think this film is,is a "Is there a monster is there not"- No.There is no ambiguity , this is not a monster movie ,this is not a spoiler,its explained pretty early ,that Mary is just sickly ,and Thea is a human ,Kyra is just supersticious and the General is trying to find a way to fight something he has no control over ....And I kind of love that .This is NOT about a monster ,what its about is people trapped in a house with a plague and all the paranois and fingerpointing that can come from that .....And maybe because of the last two years ,the world has been dealing with a plague ,and we have seen this play out on a global scale ,this movie hit pretty true .I like the claustrophobic tone with a house of basically strangers that is dwindling due to sickness .All the performances are good ,but the stand out is the great Boris Karloff,as a man who has done bad things for what he percieves as the greater good ,being cold but not a monster .Though my favorite scene in the film goes to Ernst Deutsch as the army Doctor who believes in science ,and Jason Robards Sr (Yup the papa of THAT Jason Robards ),as an archeologist who prays to the Ancient Greek Gods ,specifically Hermes ,which is a very nice and honsetly kind of sad moment

If I have a problem its the climax which is .....Just kind of lame .

The movie as a whole though is worth a watch .ITs a good suspense bottle movie

@ariel-seagull-wings @metropolitan-mutant-of-ark @marquisedemasque @filmcityworld1 @professorlehnsherr-almashy @the-blue-fairie @lord-antihero @princesssarisa @amalthea9

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harrysgloves · 4 years

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Let Your Hair Down (chapter: xxx)

Get caught up with the Let Your Hair Down Masterlist!

word count: 1,288

story summary: Harry gets more than he bargains for when he falls not only for you but your little girl as well.

chapter summary: The End.

warnings: Language

a/n: This is it! The end folks. Hope you loved them all as much as I did. xx

>>><<<

*2 years later*

You checked your eyeliner in the visor of your car one last time before closing it. The scar running through your left eyebrow used to glare at you every time you looked in the mirror but now you don't even notice it.

Your adorable 7 year old was bolting into the house before you even got a chance to tell her to not run. You smiled, shaking your head as you got out of your car. Closing the driver side door with your hip before walking into your new home.

It was perfect. The best balance of modern and homey. It was 100% your style and you couldn't help the wide smile across your face as you walked up the few steps to your new front door that Thea left wide open.

"Thea! You got to shut the door!" You yelled through the empty house. Your furniture hadn't been delivered yet but Thea insisted on staying the night in the new house.

You decided to rough it out with a blow up mattress and a lot of blankets on the floor until the next day. You were over staying at a hotel anyways. Your stuff was constantly covering the two beds and the floor, it was pretty embarrassing any time the housekeepers would come in and see their new boss be so messy.

"Sorry, mom!" She yelled as she ran to the backyard to the pool. Her bathing suit already on and a towel thrown over her shoulder.

"No running in the house!" You sighed as you heard the glass door slam shut. She was starting to get really good at not listening.

You stood in your new kitchen, hands on your hips as you looked at all the boxes sitting on the floor. This was going to take you forever to put away. You were already dreading having to bend over a million times to get stuff out of boxes. You should have paid someone to do this.

You sighed, bending over to pick up the box of glasses. Fuck bending over you were going to just put it on the counter to unload it.

"Wat are y'doing!" You heard him yell from behind you, rushing down the stairs to the kitchen. You hadn't even had the box lifted for 5 seconds before he caught you.

"I'm just putting it on the counter." You groaned when the box was taken from you. This shit was getting old already.

"Y'not allowed to lift over 15 pounds and y'do it anyways." He mumbled, irritated you weren't listening to the doctors.

"Just 'cause I'm pregnant doesn't mean I can't do stuff. Jesus, H. Calm down." You huffed, rolling your eyes as he sat the box down on the counter for you.

"Plus, that's not even 15 pounds!" You complained, hands flying in the air as you bitched about him constantly being overprotective.

"Want me t'go get the scale and prove to y'that it is?" He questioned, raising his eyebrows at you when he turned around.

Any argument you were ready to throw at him died the second the second you saw the paint across his face. You smiled brightly walking over to him.

"Got some on your face." You laughed trying to wipe away the semi wet paint off his forehead but ended up smudging it more. You tucked your lip between your teeth trying to suppress your smile.

"Yeh, well I was tryin' t'suprise ya but I can't leave y'alone fo' 10 minutes." He sighed, arms wrapping around you the best they could.

You quickly pulled away from him not wanting to get paint all over you. Nose wrinkling when he pulled you in tighter, swatting his chest.

"What's wrong, love? Scared 'f a little paint?" He smiled at you struggling to get away from him.

"Harry! I'm pregnant, leave me alone." You squirmed in his arms the closer his paint covered forehead got to yours.

"Oh, so now it's I'm pregnant but a second ago y'were yelling at me." He smiled wider the second your giggle left your lips.

You loved him so much.

"Duh, it's called hormones."

"Mhm" He hummed, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

"Besides, it's your fault I'm like this anyways." You finally broke free from his arms, turning away and heading towards the stairs. He was hot on your trail.

"It's not done! Y'can't see it yet!" He ran up the steps right behind you. You were just thankful you were still small enough to be able to run up the steps cause there was no way you weren't taking a peak at that room.

You threw open the door to the nursery, gasping the second you saw the bubblegum pink walls and dark hardwood floors. Your eyes filled with tears as you stepped further into the room, taking it all in.

"Thea said princesses have pink rooms. She helped pick out the color." He said leaning on the door frame nothing but smiles as he looked at you trying to contain all your emotions.

Which didn't happen because… hormones.

"I love it." You said with a sob, hands covering your mouth trying to stop being ridiculous but you couldn't help it.

"Awe, baby. It's okay to cry." He moved from the doorway, arm around your shoulder as you started to mentally plan where all the furniture would go.

"We've come a long way." He said, breaking you out of your thoughts and back to him.

"You still mad at me for breaking up with you for a year and a half?" You smiled, laying your head on his chest.

"Nah, if we didn't break up we wouldn't 'ave had make up sex and gotten knocked up." He smiled the second your hand swatted his arm.

"'M sorry! It's true!" He laughed, grabbing your hands and pulling you in for a kiss.

"We can't tell her that. She'll be in therapy longer than I have." You said, nuzzling into his chest a big smile across your face when you heard the footsteps running up the stairs.

"She better 'ave dried off." Harry sighed, turning his head to see Thea walk through the doorway.

She hadn't dried off.

"Oh my god!" She squealed, jumping up and down when she saw the nursery. "It's princess pink!"

"Thea, you got to dry off." Harry said sternly, he'd come a long way on the whole discipline thing but still had his moments when she could start fake crying and he'd break down.

He still hadn't eaten sushi.

You laughed when she ran over to hug you two. Both your pants now wet from where she laid up against.

"Okay, okay. Come on, time to help mom unpack the boxes." Harry said, taking her hand in his, trying to pull her out of the room before she touched any of the wet paint or got water all over the place.

"Dad, can we paint my room the same color?" She asked as they both walked out of the nursery and down the hallway.

"Only if y'promise to remember to dry off from now on. Momma can't slip right now or she'll hurt Baby Mia." You heard his retreating voice walk down the stairs and couldn't help the smile on your face.

You followed closely behind them. Closing the door with one last glance at the nursery. It'd been a long and tough road to getting yourself in a better place but as you heard them laughing downstairs together planning on where to put the things in your new home.

And you felt the new life you already loved so much kick in your stomach.

You were happy you could finally let your hair down.

#Harry Styles #Harry #Harry Styles x Reader #Harry Styles x You #Harry Styles x Y/N #Harry Styles fanfic #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Wrting #mine #LYHD

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theachvdwick · 4 years

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hi friends ! i’m farah nd i’m coming at u live frm the pst timezone to bring u one of my favorite characters, ms. thea chadwick. i realized i accidentally deleted her intro a while back, so i had to quickly rewrite it from memory so i hope it makes sense ! like this post or send me an im, if you want to plot. rlly excited to be here !!

💀 * [ kristine froseth + cis female + she/her ] —— have you met thea chadwick? they are a twenty year old sophomore currently studying art history. they live on decker house, and word around campus is that this gemini is lively + daring, as well as secretive + naive. i wonder if they’ll make it out alive. lipstick stained cigarettes. meeting eyes with your crush across the room. vivid dreams that make you question reality.

TAG & PINTEREST

thea grew up on a ranch in montecito, ca. both of her parents were from old money on the east coast. they knew each other when they were kids, dated in high school, and decided to elope and move to the west coast to escape their families. since they both collected trust funds, neither of them have ever worked. they really just had “hobbies” per say. they also weren’t the most mentally stable people and shouldn’t have had children, but of course went ahead and had four of them.

out of the four kids, thea is the only girl. she has two other brothers and one younger. it’s safe to say the chadwick kids had a far from normal upbringing. because their father was a bit of a recluse, they essentially grew up very isolated with little to no contact with the outside world. they were homeschooled with an extremely rigorous curriculum, and as their father’s mental illness got worse and worse he continued to basically control every aspect of their lives. as a result, thea there’s a lot that thea doesn’t know about the world. for example, she wouldn’t have a lot of the same common experiences of other kids growing up, because she grew up so isolated from everyone else. her father also drilled a sort-of superiority complex into his children. always telling them that they were these gifted child prodigies who were better than regular kids. while thea didn’t pay much attention this, it was still there.

the thing about thea, though, was that she’s always had a very defiant spirit. she was always a troublemaker in her father’s eyes. she didn’t exactly know any different from the life she grew up in, but she knew there had be something else out there from the stories she’s read in books. this led to quite a few running away attempts on her behalf. the most famous being when he coerced her young brother teddy to run away with her to go live in the metropolitan museum of art in new york like in the book from the mixed up files of mrs. basil e. frankweiler. while they did make it on the bus, it was only a matter of time before one of their housekeepers caught up with them and dragged them back to the ranch.

over time, she realized she had to conform to the rules her father set forth, and this rebellious streak went dormant for a while. his punishments became too much for her, and she hated being sent off to this psychologist to be evaluated or put on this medication that made her feel numb and disoriented. so she did what she had to do to survive, and decided it was better to go along with things and keep up a happy face than to try her hand at making waves. it became easier to daydream the day away or live vicariously through the stories she wrote in a leather-bound journal she kept hidden under her mattress. ever since, she’s always been a bit out of touch with reality. or so it seems. she has a sharper eye than what she lets on and always knows what’s really going on, but she’s extremely good at pretending like she doesn’t know what’s going on and that everything is wonderful. it’s like she lives in her own imaginary world, but this has always been easier for her and essentially her main defense mechanism. which can be harder for some to grasp, because at a certain point it seems like she’s never being real.

however, there have been a few times where’s she’s dropped the act. the first was when she was sixteen and she caught her father cheating with another woman. it was by pure accident that she walked into her father’s study that afternoon but as soon as she locked eyes with her father, she knew she’d made a grave mistake. part of her knew she should’ve just acted like she’d forgotten it’d never happened, but the other part of her was so angry about it. it led to a major fight with her father and she was very vocal about how she was going to tell her mother, which led to her father getting a doctor to try and drug her to make her forget. she didn’t forget, but she acted like she did.

the second was when she was eighteen and her brother teddy died. teddy was thea’s younger and favorite brother. they were extremely close and he was her best friend. what happened was that teddy and thea’s father got into a terrible argument, teddy left to go sailing on the family’s boat to let off some steam despite bad weather conditions, and he died in a sailing accident due to the storm. this was just the most devastating thing for her to ever experience, because she couldn’t imagine a life without her brother. and deep down, she knew her father was behind it because without the argument, she knows he wouldn’t have tried to sail that day. at this point, she went a bit off the rails. she was acting out, not eating, chain smoking, and her father just couldn’t control her anymore. when an aunt of her that she’d never met died and left her money because she’d never had kids of her own, thea told her father she was running away to new york to become a model, and that there was nothing he could do about it. of course, he wasn’t going to let that happen. but when she threatened to bring up the cheating incident to her mother, they settled on college. it was not easy to get him to agree to it, but she was becoming to much of a problem for even him to handle. thankfully, for her family’s name and for her father kept extremely detailed reports of his children’s homeschooling, and she was accepted holloway. it’s the most free she’s ever felt, and it’s like she’s fallen in love with life and the world for the first time.

personality wise?? she’s extremely social and outgoing. can get along with anyone but as a mentioned earlier, she kind of lives in her own little world and always appears to happy so this might get on some people’s nerves. she’s extremely romantic and has probably had a ton of flings. isn’t the best at being committed and is always falling in love with someone new, so may have cheated on people or have broken up with them because she can’t exactly be in a real relationship when it’s hard for her to be real. there’s definitely a lot going on in her head and she rocks a ton of secrets, some may be in-tune to this while others won’t be. doesn’t talk too much about her family, but may let some things slip. she rarely visits home and may be seen hiding tears when she’s forced to talk to her father on the phone if she needs money and has to check in with him.

WANTED PLOTS: exes, flings, someone who’s in love with her, unrequited crushes, friends, enemies, someone who sees beyond her whole facade, someone who knew her family growing up in some capacity...i will add to this, but i’m honestly open to almost anything!

#holloway.intro #death tw #drugs tw #abuse tw

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jovialyouthmusic · 4 years

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Time of the...

Sophia and Bastien may seem as if they’re at it like rabbits, but every four weeks or so they calm down a bit - and you might guess why. Here they confront the monthly lull. There’s nothing graphic I promise, just fluff. It ‘belongs’ to the next chapter in Silver Service, but I’m posting it as a stand alone piece because it’s a loooong series and you can just dip in if you know the characters but haven’t kept up.

If you know NOTHING about this ship, it’s Bastien Lykel from TRR and his LI, my OC Sophia Turner, who came to Cordonia to work for the royal family. That’s really all you need to know apart from the fact that they are truly, madly, deeply in love. Oh, and they have pet names, ‘thea mou’ means ‘my goddess’ and ‘agape mou’ means ‘my love’

Word Count 1779

No warnings, but please bear in mind my blog is not suitable for under 18s.

Sophia sat huddled up on the couch, hot water bottle clutched to her stomach, soft blanket around her shoulders and knees drawn up to her chest. This wasn’t the first time she’d had her period since she’d moved in with Bastien, but they’d not discussed it before, just skirted around it. Her cycle was mostly regular, but the symptoms varied wildly, and this was a bad one. She was bloated and her head throbbed. She had managed soup and bread for lunch, which was sitting heavy in her belly and the painkillers were taking a long time to kick in, so she curled up and started to channel surf.

She heard Bastien returning from work, and he came in to the lounge. She knew that he had eaten in the staff canteen, but she hadn’t wanted to appear in public with the way she was feeling. He paused momentarily as he took in the situation, stooping to kiss her on the forehead before he continued through to the kitchenette, clattering around making coffee as she settled on a romcom. She frowned at the kiss and winced at the sharp noises, calling out to him testily.

‘Do you have to make so much noise?’ she snapped

‘Sorry my goddess. Do you want anything to drink?’

‘No’ she said shortly, the smell of coffee turning her stomach. Yesterday she had desperately wanted him to come back, but right now she wished he would just leave her alone.

‘I could make hot chocolate’ he cajoled. She shook her head, irritated that he would presume that would make her feel better.

‘No thankyou’ she said in an attempt at politeness that she definitely didn’t feel. He came over and sat next to her, leaning his arm on the back of the couch, head on his palm and body angled toward her.

‘Can I do anything for you, theá mou?’ he asked soothingly. She shook her head and kept her eyes on the screen, though really she wasn’t watching it – it was just wallpaper. ‘Sophia?’ he prompted. She turned her head to him sharply.

‘What is it, Bastien?’ she said sharply ‘I just want to sit and be quiet’

‘You’re hurting, agápe mou’ he pressed ‘I want to help’

‘Well don’t’ she snapped, looking back at the screen ‘I’ve coped with this on my own for years. Most women do, you know’ He was quiet for a while but didn’t move.

‘We’ve never talked about this’ he said, quietly probing ‘How is it for you? You can tell me’ She sighed heavily, knowing he wouldn’t let it go.

‘My guts hurt, my head throbs and the pills aren’t helping’ she said, a lump forming in her throat.

‘It’s not usually this bad, is it?’ he asked, his tone gentle. She shook her head, and found her eyes prickling. He handed her a tissue, and she accepted it and dabbed at her face, sniffling and holding back tears as her mood swung from irritation to self pity. He leaned closer, his tone soft as he carried in his assault on her walls.

‘Did I ever tell you about the first time I went down on a girl?’ She shook her head, pressure building in her chest from the sobs she withheld. He smiled ‘She didn’t know her period had started, and it was a while before either of us realised. She was mortified’ Sophia looked at him watery eyed, her sob turning into a laugh.

‘That can’t have been nice’ He put his hand on her knee and squeezed it.

‘I didn’t mind. A few towels and a wash afterwards and all is fine. You don’t have to hide anything from me, theá mou’ he said softly ‘Come here, let me hold you’ She made a little sound of acquiescence and he moved close as she repositioned herself, still hugging the hot water bottle. Gently he put his arm around her shoulders, stroking her hair. She sighed and relaxed into his warm embrace, genuinely feeling just a little better.

‘I can heat up that bottle’ he offered. She shook her head, unwilling to move.

‘No, just stay like this for now’ she murmured. She stared at the screen. She knew he disliked what he termed ‘fluffy’ films or series, but he bore it without complaint. If it weren’t for the dull ache in her belly and throbbing head she would have fallen asleep in his arms. Instead she shifted uncomfortably, groaning quietly.

‘What pills did you take?’ he asked ‘How long ago?’

‘Aspirin’ she mumbled ‘An hour ago. There wasn’t anything else in the cabinet and I didn’t feel like going out’

‘Housekeeping are stocked with all sorts of pills and potions’ Bastien pointed out ‘What usually works?’ She shrugged. Housekeeping at the Palace was indeed a wonderful source not only for pills, but pads and tampons, and the last time she’d bought any was when they were touring with the court. But this was Applewood and their supplies were different.

‘They don’t have the ones I used to take back home, and I’ve run out’

‘Tell me what they are and I’ll see to it’ he said. ‘Are you sure you don’t want a hot chocolate?’ She sighed

‘I’m bloated and that will make me feel worse.’ she grumbled, becoming aware that she needed to change her tampon, and hauled herself on to her feet. As she returned from the bathroom Bastien addressed her again.

‘What do you usually have when you feel bloated?’ She ensconced herself back on the couch, shivering slightly and pulling the blanket tight around her shoulders. Her head still ached and she was suddenly consumed with a longing for comfort food. He waited for her answer, stroking her knee and running his hand down her calf to her foot.

‘Oat milk. But I want chocolate ice cream. Ben and Jerry’s Phish food is good’

‘I’ll get you some’ he said ‘Do you have an empty packet of your pills?’ Resignedly she sighed.

‘In my toiletry bag’ she said ‘It’s okay Bas, you don’t have to’

‘Yes I do’ He bent to kiss her forehead before getting up ‘Hold tight, I’ll be as quick as I can’

‘Does the kitchen stock Ben and Jerry’s?’ she asked ‘Do you even have it in Cordonia?’

‘We’re not savages’ he chuckled ‘Let me heat up that bottle before I go, the kettle boiled not long ago’

---------

Sophia jerked awake at the sound of the door to the suite closing. The television screen flickered and the bottle held against her belly was still warm. She dabbed at the drool at the corner of her mouth as Bastien entered with a grocery bag. She goggled at it as he sat on the couch next to her. He drew out a packet of the pills she wanted.

‘Did you go to the store?’ she asked incredulously, and as he nodded she had a vivid picture in her head of him standing solemnly in line at the checkout, basket hanging from his elbow.

‘I did’ he said ‘I do have basic life skills you know, I’m not a spoiled noble with lackeys to do all my business.’ He paused for a moment thoughtfully ‘In fact I am a lackey’ She sat up eagerly, peering at the bag on the couch.

‘What else do you have?’ she asked, reaching out, but he held it back from her and drew out a tub of ice cream. Her eyes grew wide ‘Bas, you are incredible. You did this for me?’ tears started to her eyes again and this time she let them flow. He scooted next to her, putting the bag on the floor and placing his arm around her shoulder.

‘Hey hey, don’t cry agápe mou’ she soothed. She sobbed and hiccupped for a while

‘You – you’re just so…nobody ever…’ her words were disjointed and he held her tight and kissed the top of her head. She smelled sour but he didn’t care.

‘How could I see my goddess suffer and do nothing?’ He let go of her ‘Now what type of spoon do you want? Tea spoon or dessert? Do you want a bowl?’

‘No bowl – but a teaspoon, I’m not a savage’ she managed to quip, smiling faintly. Bastien chuckled and went to fetch it. She heard him put something into the microwave and presumed it was to heat up a drink. He came back and sat down next to her, handing her the spoon. She opened the tub and drew her knees up, toes curling in anticipation. Bastien smiled fondly as she dug in, and went back to the microwave as it dinged. Wordlessly he handed her a warmed wheat bag as she ate. A look of bliss crossed her face as she let the ice cream melt, feeling the chocolate shapes hard on her tongue then melting slowly. She replaced the hot water bottle with the wheat bag, which she surmised he had just bought from the supermarket. In contrast to the bottle it was soft and pliable and moulded to her belly. She squinted at him.

‘Do you want any?’ she held the tub out to him, but just barely, and reluctantly. He shook his head

‘No, I’m fine. How about a foot rub?’ Her eyes widened

‘I don’t think I could handle Phish food and a foot rub together’ she said incredulously. ‘Not just now’

‘I could run you a hot bath’

‘Mmmm’ she mumbled, settling back into the couch ‘I don’t know, cold ice cream, hot bath. Might upset my stomach’

‘Let me know if you change your mind’ he said, and went back to the kitchenette, coming back with a glass of water and the packet of pills. He popped two out for her and put them into her palm. She held the ice cream tub between her knees, earning a look of disapproval that he quickly hid as she put the pills into her mouth and took the glass to sip some water and gulp them down. She settled back and took a couple more spoonfuls of ice cream. He had barely sat down beside her again before she handed the tub back to him, sighing happily. He rose again to take it back.

‘How about that foot rub?’ she called to him as he put the dessert into their tiny freezer compartment. He smiled and turned back to her, happy to see the contented look on her face. She was puffy and blotchy, but to him she was the most beautiful sight in the world.

‘Whatever my goddess desires’ he murmured, rubbing his hands together to warm them.

#protect and serve #silver service #sophia x bastien #bastien lykel #OC x Bastien

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raywritesthings · 4 years

Text

Bird in a Storm 5/17

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, Tommy Merlyn, John Diggle, Joanna de la Vega, Ted Grant, Raisa, Hank, Emily Nocenti, Female OCs, Male OCs Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: The confrontation between the Hood and SWAT on the roof of the Winick Building goes differently, altering the course of Laurel’s career, relationships and efforts to save her city forever, the shockwaves of such an altered path making themselves felt throughout her family and friends. *Can be read on my AO3, link is in bio*

She’d boxed up everything that would be going with her. In the end, it wasn’t really that much. Joanna had offered to hold on to her law books — “For the near future,” her friend had declared, convinced this was only going to be a short hiatus for Laurel from the practice. The bulk of her things were clothes, old photos and albums, and Sara’s stuff. She hadn’t had the heart to throw it away, even with the smaller space she’d have now.

It took a few trips to get everything downstairs, but she wasn’t worried about leaving her stuff. Hank, her first ever client, was sitting with it outside in her car.

He’d sought her services all those years ago for his son when he’d been falsely accused of a mugging. Now that same son was in need of a cheap car to get to and from college, and Laurel had been more than happy to have someone to take it off her hands. The insurance was just going to be too much, not to mention her new home didn’t have its own driveway or garage.

She climbed into the passenger seat and shut the door.

“That everything?” Hank asked.

“Yep. Time to go. Thanks for giving me a lift over.”

“Hey, it’s the least I can do. This all is a real shame.”

Laurel nodded, leaning back against the headrest as she watched her old building glide away past the window. No turning back now.

They left downtown and entered the Glades. They were streets she was somewhat familiar with, at least the ones she took to and from work, but it seemed different now knowing this was to be her neighborhood. She spotted the corner store she’d researched online for where she would be getting her groceries.

As they turned onto her new street, dodging around a trash can that had fallen over into the road, she sat up. There was a whole group of people standing around by the front walk of the little townhouse she was to call her own. Hank honked the horn, and it was at that point she realized she recognized most of them.

“There she is. Welcome to the neighborhood!” Mrs. Ross called out as she got out of the car.

“What is all this?”

“I might have mentioned I was helping you move to a few people,” Hank admitted sheepishly. He had already taken one of the bigger boxes from the car, so Laurel headed up the walk to unlock her front door. She remained on the stoop as Hank went in, looking around at the people who had turned out.

One stood out in particular.

“Raisa?”

The Queen’s cook and housekeeper smiled at her. “I heard Mr. Oliver and Miss Thea discussing your move. You were always such a sweet girl with a good heart, and now we’ve become something of neighbors.”

“I didn’t know you lived in the Glades.” She would have thought the Queens paid her more than that.

“I do. My sister’s family, my son and I. We all share. A few streets away from here.” She waved a hand vaguely in one direction. Then she returned it to holding a tupperware bowl. “Now, I found time to bake some cookies. Your favorite, if I recall.”

Laurel thought she could feel her stomach growl at just the mention. “I’m sure they are. Thank you so much, Raisa.”

The woman patted her arm, and then headed in after Hank.

She wasn’t alone in bringing food. Mrs. Ross was carrying a large casserole dish covered with tinfoil. “You can serve this up over a week, maybe two. Did the job work out?”

“I talked to her over the phone, and she asked me to come in tomorrow to start.”

“Good, that’s good. But listen, don’t stand on ceremony with her. She’s just Pam.”

Laurel took note of that with a nod, and Mrs. Ross continued into the house.

A couple both about five years her senior approached her next. The woman reached her hand out first; she had brown skin and long dark hair in a sleek pontytail. “Hi, I’m Anita. This is my husband, Jerome. We’re right next door from you.”

Laurel shook both of their hands. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you.”

“No, thank you for moving in. There’s been kids smoking on the stoop and in the back. Makes the whole street stink,” Anita said. Her husband, a Black man, hummed in agreement. “Now they’ll just have to find somewhere else.”

“Well, glad I could help then,” she replied with a wry grin.

Anita turned her head to the side and said, “Bebê, you wanna grab a couple boxes?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh no, that’s okay,” she started, but Jerome had already walked towards the car.

“Oh, don’t worry. He carries heavier stuff than that at the docks,” Anita told her. “Jerome’s got work unloading the cargo ships that come by there.”

“This is like a feather,” he agreed as he returned with one box under each arm. Laurel had to admit he didn’t look to be breaking a sweat. He was probably taller than both Oliver and John, and maybe even her father. His hair was cropped short, though not as close as John’s military regulation.

Emily Nocenti was behind them in the makeshift line that had formed. “Laurel, I couldn’t believe it when I heard this was happening. If it weren’t for you and Joanna at CNRI — well, they’re losing a good person.”

“Thank you, Emily. I’m glad I was able to close your case first.” There were other cases she had been looking at before everything had gone wrong. Cases she would never be allowed to touch, whether or not they would have been winnable. It hurt.

Last of the group, Joanna emerged with a big smile. “I had to come and see the place, didn’t I?”

Laurel gladly accepted her friend’s hug. “Thanks for coming.”

Joanna took out an envelope and passed it to her. “This is from Peter Declan. He’s at a recital for his daughter and couldn’t make it, but they both wanted you to have it. Something to help you out.”

She opened it to find a thank you card with two fifties folded up inside. Laurel bit her lip as her eyes stung for a moment. Just thinking about all that time the man had spent wrongly imprisoned, only to still be so kind. “You’ll tell him thanks?”

“Of course. Now come on, let’s get you unpacked.”

Together, the two friends entered the house. It was much smaller than her old apartment, and still one level. The sitting room bled into the kitchen with only a counter separating them. A cramped hallway led back to a bathroom with a standup shower and further back was the single bedroom with a tiny closet. Sara’s things would be going up on the high shelf in there just as they had done in her old place.

Everyone had congregated in the main room. Raisa and Mrs. Ross were manning the kitchen while Jerome unpacked her appliances. The only good thing about the brevity of her and Tommy cohabiting a space was that practically everything in it had been hers; it cut down on things she’d needed to buy.

“Think these are clothes,” Hank said as he opened one box on a squat coffee table.

“Joanna and I can take that. Thanks, Hank.”

She picked up the box and led Joanna back through to the bedroom.

“Well,” her friend began. “It could be worse.” She sat on the bed and tested its bounce. Laurel didn’t miss her smile dropping for a moment. “So how safe is this neighborhood, Laurel? I mean really?”

“It’s not the worst,” she hedged. “It was the best I could find in terms of the landlord. There’s some tenement housing where they don’t turn the heating on until the dead of winter, did you know that?”

Joanna shook her head. “It doesn’t surprise me, but no. Look, Laurel, are you sure you don’t just want to stay with me and my mom for a while?”

“I couldn’t. Really, it’d be too generous, and I still wouldn’t be able to keep up with my car payments. I’d have no way to get to work.” She finished hanging a few sweaters and turned to take Joanna’s hands. “It’s going to be okay, Jo, I promise.”

Someone clearing their throat caused her to turn and see Anita standing in the doorway. “I found your toiletries. You just want those in the bathroom?”

“Yes, thank you. On the sink is fine. I’ll sort through them all later.” Laurel moved away from Joanna and took out her gray pea coat to hang up next.

“Oh, you sweet thing, that is a beautiful coat.”

“Thank you,” Laurel replied.

“You’re gonna have to get rid of it.”

She blinked. “Sorry?”

Anita gave her a rueful grin. “People spot you walking around in something this nice, they’re gonna think you have money. And some of them are gonna want that money.”

Laurel exchanged a nervous look with Joanna. “Um, okay. Do you think your mom would want this?”

“I’ll ask her.” Joanna stood and folded the coat over her arm. Laurel frowned as she looked over her things. She’d thought she had already sold most of her best stuff, but did she give off the image of someone it would be worthwhile to mug? Was that all that some people would see?

Anita set aside the toiletry case and approached her. “I’m not saying you can’t have anything a little nice. But you want to be careful. Those kind of folks can pick out people who don’t belong, don’t know better.”

Laurel nodded. “I understand.”

“If you need some different things, there’s a thrift store four blocks east of here. You can get some nice stuff second hand, too.”

“Laurel, I’ll finish hanging up the clothes. You go sort out the other boxes,” Joanna said. Her friend could clearly see she needed something else to distract herself with, at least for a few moments.

“Yeah, okay.”

When she entered the main room, Emily Nocenti was pulling the photo albums and framed photographs out of one box and setting them aside. She held up one as Laurel approached.

“Is this you and your dad?”

Laurel shook her head. “No, that’s my sister, Sara.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Emily rushed to say, and Laurel remembered with some embarrassment that she had told the other woman the whole history that day they’d bumped into Oliver at the courthouse.

“It’s fine.” She put a smile on to reassure the other woman, then took the photograph and placed it on the narrow bookshelf standing against one wall. “I don’t even know why he bought her that canary. It never shut up, drove us all nuts.” Sara had grown bored with it after a week or so, too, leaving her to either have to remind her sister or simply feed the loud thing herself.

Laurel then stopped by the kitchen. “Is there a pizza place or something near here? I don’t want to send you all home without eating.”

“There’s Joe’s on Fifth and Powell. They’ve got a nice deal on Saturdays,” Jerome told her.

Laurel looked them up and ordered, and soon enough most of her boxes were empty and everyone had regathered in the main room to eat. Anita had had to run next door to grab paper plates, which Laurel wished she’d thought to buy beforehand. She hadn’t really been expecting company so soon, though.

“And there really isn’t some kind of appeal process?” Emily was asking her. “I know the Hood isn’t exactly innocent, but without him Sommers would be walking free. A lot of people think he does good work.”

“Well, he could be doing more,” Mrs. Ross said. Laurel looked over in surprise. The other woman raised both hands. “I’m just saying, there’s a lot still wrong with this town.”

“Yeah, it’s hard to feel safe walking around at night. Usually I just sit around after work waiting for Jerome to be done with his shift and come get me,” Anita agreed. “Lots of guys out there think they can use force to get their way, too.”

“Well, that’s not like anything the Hood’s doing,” Laurel began.

“No, but it’s funny,” Jerome said. “He stopped those bank robbers a few months back. How come he doesn’t do more of that?”

“It would be so nice if he would do something about the gangs that attack the bus routes,” Raisa agreed. “I’m always so afraid to go home. Any day now, they’ll pick the one I’m on, and I’ll lose my wages.”

“There’s gangs hitting the buses?” Joanna asked. Judging by the look on her face, this was the first she was hearing of it, too.

“Well, maybe the Hood just doesn’t know about all of that.”

“What if he did?” Hank asked. He’d been mostly quiet till now, but he was staring directly at Laurel. “Maybe if you told him?”

The others were all watching her expectantly, too. Much as she didn’t want to disappoint them, Laurel knew protecting Oliver’s identity was still important, even among friends.

“It- it doesn’t really work like that. I don’t have the phone to contact him anymore.”

There were nods and glum looks. Mrs. Ross stood and started gathering up empty plates. She patted Laurel’s hand. “Best for you to keep your head down. That’s what we all do to survive.”

The party atmosphere had waned, and slowly everyone started making their way to the door. Laurel thanked them each as they left, then stood in her doorway and watched as Hank drove away with what was no longer her car. The lights were on at Anita and Jerome’s, but other than that the street was quiet.

Laurel shut and locked the door, then put away a few more little things before retiring to her new bedroom. It was hard for her to get to sleep; whether that was due to a first night in a new environment or her thoughts, she wasn’t sure.

What the others had said about the Glades and the Hood, it weighed on her. There was so much more work to do to even come close to saving this city. Laurel just wasn’t sure how she was going to take it on.

---

Pam rose early as she always did and went about her morning routine. Getting ready, watering the plants that needed it, and feeding her cat. She made sure to give him a nice big bowl, otherwise he tended to try going after the basil.

With everything upstairs settled, it was time to head down and open Green Glades for another morning.

She checked the register and went up and down the rows, inspecting her wares. Some of the perennials weren’t looking as good as they had a week ago. She’d have to consider marking them down. There was some other matter of business she needed to tend to today, though it was escaping her what that was specifically. With a shrug, she decided it would dawn on her at the right time.

Pam returned to her counter and had only eased back into her stool for a few minutes before there was a knock at the front door. She looked up. “Now who could that be?”

It wasn’t opening time yet. But as she shuffled to the door, she could make out the outline of a young woman with brown hair and a striped sweater. Ah! Her brand new assistant then. She’d known she was forgetting something.

Pam undid the lock. “Laurel?” Such a pretty name for the girl who was herself rather pretty.

Her new assistant nodded with a small, polite smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Pam.”

“You as well. I’m glad you got here early. We’ll have some time to go over the store.”

She led Laurel on a walking tour up and down aisles, pointing out the organization of the flowers and other plants. “I did them by difficulty. Makes it easier for the beginners.”

“Difficulty?”

“In how to tend them, grow them. Some plants require a skillful touch compared to others. They’re high maintenance. You’ll see in time. What sort of plants have you owned?”

“Um, my mom had a basket...thing, when I was growing up,” Laurel said. Pam waited, but that was apparently to be it.

“Well, you’ll be able to relate well to the beginners, then. Tell you what, today I’ll have you on the register. She’s an old thing, but you learn the right way soon enough. Oh, and I’ve got some mark down stickers that need putting on a few of the perennials.”

“I can do that,” Laurel volunteered with spirit, clearly glad to have something she felt confident enough in doing. Pam fished out the guide she had for customers, dog-eared and stained with mulch in places, setting Laurel to work.

They had their first customers before she’d finished, and Pam was kept busy by the register. It was mostly folks coming in early for seeds and bulbs, a couple of indoor plants here and there. Pam did some bouquets, of course — she knew where the money was — but she was always so happy to sell something living instead.

“Pam? Sorry, where’s the sink?”

Pam turned to find her assistant holding the sticker tape in one hand and her other, dirt-covered hand far away from her clothes. There were already a couple of dark stains on the front of her sweater.

“Oh! I should have got you an apron. I’m sorry, dear.” She ushered Laurel into the back where she found her an old smock to wear in place of the sweater, along with her own apron.

Laurel came up to learn the register, which left Pam a little freer to chat with her neighbors and regulars, like Annie who came in hefting two canvas bags of groceries already. She must have gotten up early to have made the two mile trek to the supermarket and back.

“I’m thinking of trying a little herb garden this year in my window box,” Annie told her. “Wanted to talk to you first about what I might be needing.”

“Absolutely. Now what have you been growing in the window box before this?”

“Just some marigolds. Mom’s favorite, you know. But who’s this?” Annie asked, turning to look at Laurel.

“Hi, I’m Laurel. It’s nice to meet you. This is my first day.”

“Oh, the new assistant!”

“Yes, this is my florist-in-training,” Pam remarked. “She’s a bit green, but she’ll have a green thumb before it’s said and done.”

Laurel looked down at the register keys, a bit of a blush to her cheeks.

“Now, about that window box,” Pam decided to continue to get the attention off the young woman.

She did introduce Laurel to a few more of the usual crowd over the course of the day, and just a couple hours after dark, it was time to close up. In another couple months, it would still be light out come closing time.

They hung up their aprons, and Pam assured her assistant she could bring the smock back tomorrow so she wouldn’t be walking home in a dirty sweater. “Try to find something old you don’t mind getting a little messy for next time.”

“Right.” Laurel turned to walk past the counter and towards the door.

“Wait a minute!” Pam called. Her assistant stopped and watched as she shuffled into the back again, this time coming out with a small, potted African violet.

“Now, this is for you. Call it a hiring bonus.”

Laurel looked at the plant with clear surprise and moved to hand it back over.

“I can’t take it for free.”

“Of course you can. I bring home the troubled ones all the time. Any florist should have a few of their own.”

“I don’t know, Pam. I was never really a plant person. What if it dies?”

The girl was nervous, eager to please. If Pam had to guess, life hadn’t treated her well even before her ouster from CNRI. She only knew the bare basics from what Liza Ross had told her neighbor, and she wasn’t inclined to dig for the details. Sometimes it was best to let those things emerge on their own.

“You take that home. Nurture it. Learn to care for it.”

Laurel wilted, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all anyone can do, dear.”

She sent the young woman home and finished locking up the place. Pam wiped her hands on her apron before hanging it back up on the hook on the wall, then climbed the stairs at a slow pace. Her feet and knees hurt far less now that she wasn’t doing so much around the shop, but they still weren’t what they used to be when she’d been a younger woman.

Ah well. Young or old, they all had their struggles.

---

She had a full week under her belt at the shop, and suffice to say Laurel was exhausted. Her whole day was spent on her feet, as Pam only had the one stool and she wasn’t about to deprive the older woman of it. It wouldn’t look great if she was constantly sitting around, either. She’d need to trade her plain flats for some sneakers. Her arches were killing her.

It was her first day off and she’d mostly spent it on the couch, too tired to even think about going out. She’d clicked around on her computer reading this or that article. One of Starling’s elite, Ken Williams, was under scrutiny after revealing the pyramid scheme he’d been a part of. The articles didn’t say, but Laurel suspected the Hood’s involvement in making the man change his ways.

At least Ollie was still getting real work done out there.

It had gotten dark without her notice. Laurel yawned and stretched. Time for an early bed. She pushed up off the couch and crossed the room.

The glass in her front window shattered, and Laurel dropped and rolled away from a rectangular object that landed on her floor. When nothing happened, she peeked out from the protective ball she’d curled into.

It was a brick. She heard some jeering laughter outside, but when she went to the window the culprits were already running off into the night. Just some lousy troublemakers. They probably hadn’t even had a purpose to picking her house. Or they were the teens upset she’d taken away their smoking spot.

Laurel’s forehead dropped to rest against the wall as she waited for her heartbeat to slow. Was she getting paranoid? There wasn’t anything special about her anymore, so why would people be coming to attack her?

It occurred to her that standing around in her socks while there was broken glass on the floor wasn’t the best idea. She picked her way over carefully and stepped into her shoes, then went to fetch her broom and dustpan. The floor was easy enough to start with, but she was going to have to remove all the couch cushions and make sure nothing was hiding underneath.

A knock at her door interrupted her, causing her to tense back up as she listened.

“Laurel? It’s Jerome from next door.”

Her shoulders sagged, and she went to the door. “Hi.”

“Anita sent me to check on you. Thought we heard something crash over here.”

“Yeah, I think it was just some kids. They threw a brick through my window. I’m fine.”

“Kids.” He shook his head. “You need any help cleaning the glass up?”

She waved a hand. “No, I’ve got it.”

“Well, how about I bring a tarp over to cover the window up till the landlord gets around to replacing it. We should have one lying around.”

The practical side of her won out when she considered that they still hadn’t reached spring. “If it’s not any trouble, I’d really appreciate it.”

He smiled. “Sure thing. Be right back.”

Laurel took off the couch cushions and finished sweeping while she waited, then took one end of the tarp to help Jerome tape it up. Hopefully the paint wouldn’t peel later.

Just as they were securing it on all four sides, another crash sounded.

They both ducked back behind the cover of the walls, but after several beats of silence, Jerome poked his head out and glanced around. “Can’t see anything.”

Laurel checked as well, looking each way up the street, then down at the ground.

“Oh,” she gasped.

“Laurel?” Jerome was at her side in two steps.

“No, it’s nothing. Just… my violet.” She went out the door and picked her way over a couple shards of glass to where the shattered pot and a heap of dirt sat, her sad little flower barely sticking up out of it. She’d forgotten it was still sitting on the windowsill, and the tarp must have knocked it over. Laurel scooped it up and carried it back inside.

“I’m so sorry, Laurel.”

She plastered a smile to her face. “It was an accident. Really, Jerome, it’s fine.”

“You got another pot we could put it in?”

Laurel shook her head. “No. Um, I’ll try a tupperware and see if Pam can help me with it tomorrow.”

“You sure you’ll be alright here tonight?”

“Yes. But thank you.”

Her neighbor left and Laurel’s smile instantly fell. She looked at the wilted flower sitting in her hands. What was even the point?

Nevertheless, she found a tupperware and packed the dirt in around the plant’s roots. She sprinkled a little water over it and washed her hands, then sat down heavily at her table.

“Are you okay?”

She gasped but almost instantly calmed; Oliver stood near the back of the room with his hood pushed back. He must have entered through the kitchen door, even if she’d been sure it was locked.

“I’m fine. It was just some kids.” She waved a hand towards the tarp. “My neighbor helped me fix it.”

Oliver frowned and stepped closer. “You’re crying.”

Laurel rubbed at the tear tracks on her cheeks, pointless when he’d already seen them. “It’s not because — I’m okay. Just- my plant. It got knocked over.”

Oliver was eyeing her warily, like he was afraid the slightest word might set her off crying. “Your plant.”

“Yeah.” She crossed her arms. “I’m not hysterical. It’s just my boss sent it home with me so I could learn more about caring for flowers, so I know she’ll be disappointed if I’ve already killed it.” To her horror, a lump started to rise in her throat as she spoke, making the next words difficult. “And it’s one of the only things I had to make the place feel like a home, so yes, I am mourning it.”

“Laurel, I know how you think your clients would feel if you lied, but wouldn’t they rather you be there to help them?” Frustration was practically leaking from his tone.

“I can’t go back, Ollie. Don’t you see that’s how this starts? Corruption has this city in a chokehold, and no one is immune. If I lie to save my job, what’s to stop me from withholding a piece of evidence that makes my cases harder to win? Or stealing my dad’s files? Where does it end?”

“I’m worried about it ending out here for you,” he replied. “The Glades aren’t safe. That brick could have been an accident, or it could have been something deliberate.”

“Because billionaires hire teenagers to threaten ex-lawyers?” She almost laughed. “Oliver, I don’t have enemies. Those people in the top offices of corporations or the penthouse apartments, I guarantee they’ve forgotten about me already. I’m nobody.”

His face fell, and he shook his head. “No, you’re not.”

She couldn’t trust her voice to remain steady enough to reply to that. Instead she asked, “What were you doing here?”

“I was on my way to another person on the List.”

“Really? And you just happened to pass by the very minute someone threw a brick at my window?” She looked him in the eye. “You shouldn’t be watching over me. There are plenty of other people in this city who need your help more.”

“But this is the only way I’m allowed to help you.” His expression was pained. He hadn’t liked agreeing to keep his distance as Oliver Queen, but she hadn’t realized how much it might have hurt him.

Laurel got up from her chair and approached him. “I wish things didn’t have to be this way, but they do. And you have to trust me that I’ll ask for help when I need it.”

Oliver closed his eyes but nodded once. “I guess I can’t persuade you to use one of the Manor’s rooms until your window is replaced.”

“No, you can’t. You wouldn’t, not if you were really the person you’re trying to make everyone believe you are. I’ll be fine, Oliver.”

He stiffened for a moment and placed his hand to his ear where the comm to Diggle rested.

“You should get that.” Laurel turned back to her sitting room, busying herself with rearranging the pillows on the couch. When she looked up, he was gone again.

She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself for a moment, flicking the lights off as she retreated to her bedroom. With all the chaos on top of her exhaustion from work, Laurel readily fell asleep.

It was with only minor surprise that she woke the next morning to a text from Oliver himself.

The window people should be there by ten. If they’re not, let me know

That was so typical of him. She sent off a quick reply.

Why, so you can visit my landlord?

Laurel looked the message over again. It sounded harsh when she hadn’t meant to be. She knew he was just trying to help in whatever way he could.

I’m sure it will be fine. But thank you

I do miss you, she very nearly sent. But Laurel held herself back from hitting that button, erasing the words instead. There was little point to making him feel worse. Even if it was true.

---

Oliver sighed as he read Laurel’s messages. He wished he could do more than guarantee she had all her windows. But his involvement in her life had to be kept mostly a secret these days.

If he’d known his outspoken dislike for his vigilante alter ego would put this kind of restriction on his friendship with Laurel, he would have been more careful about what he said.

Put simply, he was stuck. If he tried to intervene as the Hood — visit CNRI’s benefactors, make them reconsider their hardline stance — Laurel could end up in far worse trouble, this time with the law. Would Lance even hesitate to arrest her? He’d used her as bait once.

About the only assistance he could offer was physical protection, and Laurel didn’t even want that. He knew she had a point about not wasting his nights, a point Diggle would no doubt agree with.

But it was hard to see what the point of all of this was. He would be at this mission forever if he went name by name on the list. He was no closer to figuring out what this Undertaking was or if that had been what his father wanted him to stop all those years ago. His mother had been rattled by his visit to her as the Hood, Tommy was jealous of an imaginary enemy, and Laurel had had to give up everything.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t see the benefit that came to him from her decision. To operate out of the Glades as he did, there was a certain amount of discretion he needed to rely on the residents to have. Laurel vouching for him gave him some legitimacy, some currency with those people he would have otherwise needed to work much harder to earn. He’d already had to change some of his routes coming to and from the base thanks to tips that were phoned in when Laurel had been reported missing.

Even her vote of confidence didn’t sway some people, though. Felicity had threatened to quit her tentative working relationship with the Hood the other night over his decision to target Ken Williams because of his status as a parent. Oliver had wanted to point out all the parents and children Williams’ pyramid scheme was stealing from, but John had talked him around to a more conciliatory approach. As a result, he was now committed to tracking down an art thief who had nothing to do with his father’s mission. Everything was just too much.

He decided to spend a little bit of time with Tommy in the club before their meeting with Felicity at Big Belly Burger.

“Finished moving all my stuff into the new place,” Tommy was telling him, his voice cheerful enough that Oliver knew there was something forced about it. “Still downtown, but it’s a bit smaller.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll settle in,” he said.

“Yeah. Just needs a few touches to start feeling homey. Maybe a girl or two.”

Oliver scrutinized his friend. “You really want to start dating again so soon?”

Tommy shook his head with a grin like he’d said something funny. “Not dating.”

“Tommy.”

“Look, Ollie, I tried it out, right? Turns out relationships are as bad as I always thought they’d be. Some of us just aren’t made for it,” he said, clapping Oliver on the shoulder. It was clear he was counting the both of them as part of this dubious ‘some’, which stung even as Oliver knew he probably deserved to be there.

Digg cleared his throat, and when Oliver looked over he saw why. Laurel was hovering near the back wall, clearly not wanting to approach while Tommy was with him.

“Tell you what, I’ve got a meeting to get to later, so I’m gonna go over the inventory real quick.” He clapped Tommy on the shoulder in return and headed down to the base.

He followed after John who had already led Laurel downstairs. “Hey, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, the window people took care of it. Thanks again.”

“Okay.” Oliver stopped himself from asking why she had chosen to come here, then. Scaring her off was the last thing he wanted.

“I did some thinking at work today about our situation. How we can’t really be there for each other the way we might want to.”

That was certainly putting things lightly, but he couldn’t deny a warm feeling in his chest at the knowledge it had been bothering her, too.

“So I think I have a solution.”

“Oh?”

“I had the thought that since you seem to like lists, maybe I should make you one.” She took out a piece of paper that had clearly been ripped out of one of her old legal pads. Laurel held it out to him with a little flourish that almost reminded him of the girl who’d once presented him with her photo. The mix of happy and sad that memory represented had to be pushed down before he could refocus.

He scanned it over, catching items like bus route gangs and price gouging on medications. Oliver looked up.

“Laurel, what is this?”

“We both want this city to be better than it is, and since I’ve started living in the Glades I’ve learned so much more about what people are up against, just in their day to day lives,” she explained. “I can’t do anything in the courtroom, but I can pass along what I’ve found out to someone who can do something. And that way, you’re helping me like you want.”

He could get where she was coming from, but as he stared down at the list all he could see was another set of distractions from his father’s mission. One that in itself already felt an impossible task.

“Laurel, I want to help you be safe.”

“And this would help do that.”

“But how much? Do you have any idea how many gangs or dealers are out there? Small crime is never going to be completely stopped, and it’s only a symptom of the larger problems my father was dealing with.”

Her arms crossed. “So the people who are victims of small crime should just suffer?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean, Oliver? Whenever you talk about being the Hood, it always comes down to your father or the men he wanted you to go after. Is this your mission or his hit list?”

He took a step forward. “Hey—”

“What about the people you’re trying to help? Why not listen to what they want?”

“Because I’m not their hero!” He snapped. “Okay? I’m not some guardian angel. I’m a killer, Laurel. Just like my father was.”

She stared at him with wide eyes. He could feel Diggle’s silent gaze on him, too.

“There were three of us who made it to the life raft. Me, my father, and one of the crew. A few days after the boat sank, we were running low on supplies. My father took a gun, shot the crewman and himself, so that I could survive,” he confessed in a shaking voice. “I have to complete this mission, Laurel. Or else it would have been for nothing. I’ve already let too many distractions get in my way.”

Every minute he spent on this Dodger, or got involved in a petty theft, was time he should have expended on the list and its true meaning.

“Well, I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes downcast. “I’ll let you get on with it.” Oliver looked away as she turned and made for the exit.

“Here,” he heard Digg’s low murmur, and it didn’t surprise him in the least that the man took the paper. Wasn’t he always trying to get Oliver to do this or that thing?

But when he looked at the other man, Diggle had tucked Laurel’s list away somewhere out of sight. Oliver drew in a breath and released it slowly as he heard the door to the steps shut behind her. Gone again. How did he keep doing this?

And after all that, he still had to take on this art thief just to keep their tech support happy.

“Let’s get this over with.”

---

Ted was cooling off with some water when the door opened to admit someone who definitely wasn’t one of his regulars. Didn’t even look like she could be a regular.

“Can I help you?”

She spotted him after he called out to her and walked over. “Yes. I wanted to see what kind of classes you teach and if I could take one.”

Ted didn’t bother hiding his smirk. “Yeah, I don’t exactly have all that zumba and spin stuff that’s all the rage with you younger folks.”

Her returning smile was tight and unamused. “Well, good thing I’m not interested in that.”

He shrugged and went over to grab one of his adverts. “You can have a look at that, then.”

He watched her eyes scan over the pages, and as he studied her he couldn’t help thinking there was something familiar about her. Like he’d seen her face before.

“Can a beginnner try boxing, or are your lessons just for people who already know it?”

“I take anybody that can prove they’re committed to learning it. What has you interested?”

She looked up, and it suddenly clicked why he thought she belonged more on TV than in a boxing ring — he had seen her on TV.

“I’ve had self defense training, and now I’m looking for something a little more.”

“Is that because of your Hood friend?” He turned away. “Forget it, I’m not getting involved in the vigilante’s problems.”

“I’m more than somebody’s problem.”

He stopped and looked back. There was something in her eyes — not the desperate, lost look of some of his usuals who needed release from the pain life had dealt them, but a steely determination that belied her painted lips and comfy sweater all the same.

“That’s fair. Alright then, what’s your story?”

She eyed him for a moment. “I lost my job last month, so I’m living in the Glades now. There’s been some rough nights.”

“There always are. Why’d it bring you here?”

“Because I want to be able to handle them on my own.”

That was interesting. “And not the vigilante?”

She shook her head. “He does what he does for the city, not for me.”

She didn’t look to be lying. And the truth was, Ted would be an idiot to gain a reputation for turning down clients. “Alright, I’ll start you on a trial basis, see if you like it. Then we’ll talk regular lessons.”

She nodded. “That’s fair.”

When she turned to leave, it occurred to Ted they hadn’t sorted out one small matter. “Hold up! I didn’t get your name.”

She paused, glancing at him over her shoulder. “I thought you recognized me.”

“Your face. Didn’t remember your name. You get knocked on the head sometimes in the ring,” he added. And on the streets, an old voice whispered in the back of his mind.

The woman smirked. “Laurel.”

“Alright, Laurel. I’ll see you on Tuesday for your lesson.”

“See you, Ted.”

She walked out with her hands resting in her pockets. There was a swagger to her beneath that girl-next-door veneer, a toughness that was coming to the surface the more life wore away at her. Ted felt himself grin.

He could work with this.

#lauriver #laurel x oliver #laurel lance #oliver queen #arrow #green arrow #black canary #my writing #bird in a storm

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thebaronmunchausen · 5 years

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Look, she has hair on her kili-kili! Yecch! Blecch! Ewwww!" I whisper to my four-year-old sister Tisha, who is too busy splashing about in the water with her tiny little hands to care. "Yecch! Blecch! Ewww!" she squeals, followed by a fit of giggles. She’s copying the way I talk again. I don’t think she even knows what I’m talking about. But never mind. She looks so cute in her orange bikini I want to bite her. Tisha hasn’t been listening to me lately. She should, because I’m her Ate, but these days she’s just been such a bad girl. Even Yaya says so. Suwail, she calls Tisha. Last year, in the sandbox in school, when I told her the Family Secret she just kept on shoveling sand into her little yellow pail. She was making a castle for her Princess Barbie doll. "Tisha, I’ll tell you a secret but you promise not to tell, okay?" "Okay." She pressed her little palms to pack the sand into the pail and inverted it onto the ground. "Swear to God? Cross your heart and hope to die?" She crossed her heart with her left hand while patting the roof of her castle with her right. "You know why Mom was crying again last night?" "’Cause she was sad?" "Yeah, but do you know why she was sad?" Tisha just shrugged. She poured some water from her Thermos on her castle to make it more siksik. I wanted to scold her for wasting her cold drinking water but I was too busy telling her the secret. "Dad had a child with another woman! We have a half-brother! His name is Diego!" She didn’t even look at me. She scooped sand again into her yellow pail. Then, she got sand from the pail with her shovel… and put it into her Thermos! Into her drinking water! "Mwahahahahahaha!" she laughed an evil laugh like The Count on Sesame Street. "Sand Juice! With ice! Yum, yum! Want some, Ate Tanya?" She finally looked up at me and smirked. Tisha isn’t listening to me either today on this very hot day at the Olympic-sized swimming pool at the YWCA, which is filled with lots of children who look negroalready from their swimming lessons. The little girls’ bathing suits are not very nice, not like mine and Tisha’s, which Mom bought for us in Rustan’s. Mine is a pink one-piece with big yellow flowers and a bumblebee. Tisha’s is an orange bikini with plastic yellow rings that hold the bra in the middle and on each side of the panty. She chose it herself. She’s so arte talaga. The little boys are so magulo and their swimming trunks just look like ordinary pambahay. I think they go to public school because they’re not speaking in English. And the water smells funny, like Clorox mixed with sweat and rubber from their ugly black salbabidas. We’re on the side of the pool in the corner facing the street – me, Tisha and her – Diego’s mom, our swimming teacher, Hairy Kili-kili Woman. "It’s okay with you?" I heard Dad say last week when Mom suggested we take swimming lessons with her. I almost said "Ewwww!" out loud but I covered my mouth. "Why not?" Mom replied. "You’ve always wanted the girls to learn how to swim, right? She’s as good a teacher as any, I suppose. At least she’s someone we know," she said. "Ang bait mo talaga," he said and smiled. She wasn’t always that kind to him about her. Last-last year, another one of Mom’s crying and fighting sessions with Dad woke me up. I ran to their room and saw her trying to grab a yellow Kodak envelope from Dad. "Let me see! Is that the kid? Let me see!" she yelled. I had never heard her shout at him before. I could tell Dad was very angry because his bushy eyebrows formed one straight line, like Bert’s on Sesame Street. "Give them back!" he yelled back at her. Their agawan became very rough. I got scared. Then, I got even more scared when Dad caught me peeking by the door and yelled at me, too: "Tanya! Go back to your room!" Dad used to be nice, especially when he would tell me bedtime stories about Achilles and his heel and Medusa and her snake hairdo from his old brown Greek Mythology pocketbook. Or when he’d show me the great paintings of the world from the Book of Knowledge Encyclopedia like the "Mona Lisa" or the dark blue and yellow swirly one like in the song Starry, Starry Night. But lately, especially after Tisha turned two, he began to yell more and more often. Especially when we touched his things. Once when I got his giant brown Swingline stapler from his study table because I needed it to staple my assignment for English and I forgot to return it, he started screaming at the whole house. He yelled, "Sino ba’ng punyeta’ng kumukuha ng mga gamit ko?" and started throwing things. But I was only borrowing it! I just forgot to ask for his permission. I was too afraid to return the stapler, so I hid in my closet and buried it under my clothes until I was sure he was gone. Later, I returned it when he wasn’t looking. Last February 14, Mom didn’t even come home at all. That day, we made greeting cards for our parents in art class with red art paper. I cut out two big hearts and glued them on top of each other and wrote "It’s Valentine’s Day!" on top of the hearts using red Pentel Pen. But when I got home and Mom wasn’t there, I got worried. So I wrote "Please don’t fight!" on top of "It’s Valentine’s Day" and put the card beside their dinner plates. I waited and waited for Mom to come home until I fell asleep. At midnight, I woke up and ran to the dining room. Their plates were still there, untouched. Maybe they went out to dinner together and didn’t see my card! So I got the card and went to their room. Dad was sleeping alone in their bed. Even if I was scared he might shout at me for waking him up, I tapped him on his back and gave him the card. I started to cry. "Where’s Mom?" I asked. "Don’t cry," he said, "she slept in your Tita Alice’s house." I didn’t ask why. He let me sleep beside him. When Yaya woke me up to go to school the next morning, Mom still wasn’t there. Maybe Mom decided to be kind now because Tita Alice told her, "Just kill him with kindness," when Mom confessed to her and my other titas, the wives of Dad’s brothers, that Dad had a kid with another woman. They were all in the garden pretending to look at Mom’s orchids. They thought I couldn’t hear them from where I was by the swing, but I could. I pretended to fix my favorite Raggedy Ann and Andy knee socks because their elastic parts were so worn out they kept rolling down. I had to put rubber bands on each knee and fold the top of each sock over to keep them up. "Ang bait mo naman," my Tita Mary said, "Okay lang sa ’yo?" "Wala kong magagawa, eh. He’s always wanted a boy," Mom shrugged. My other titas just kept quiet and looked away. "Eh, I couldn’t give him one. ‘Look o," she pointed to Thea, our six-month-old baby sister in Yaya’s arms. "Another girl," she sighed. "Wala akong laban." We are in the part of the pool near the stairs, and Hairy Kili-kili Woman is putting on her bathing cap. It’s like a shower cap but tighter and made of rubber. It’s bright green, matching her one-piece bathing suit with lots of leaves and flowers. Maybe her long, thick, curly hair, which Yaya calls "kinky," couldn’t fit into the cap, that’s why she had to wet it first to make it more flat. That’s how I first saw her kili-kili hair, which is also curly like the hair on her head, when she put her hands up to pile up all her hair on top to put the cap on. Ewwww. Her kili-kilis look like little curly porcupines. Maybe they need bathing caps, too. I imagine how that would look and start to laugh. "First, we will learn how to do ‘bubbles,’" Hairy Kili-kili Woman tells us, leading us deeper into the part of the pool that says "3 FT." The water reaches up to my kili-kili and almost up to Tisha’s neck. Tisha jumps up and down in the water and claps her hands. She loves bubbles. H.K.W. laughs, plants a kiss on Tisha’s cheek and jumps up and down with her. Ewwww. I flash Tisha a sungit look and try to make my eyebrows meet, but she doesn’t mind me. They’re holding hands in the water, and H.K.W. reaches out to me so I can join their circle, but I just stare at her and put my hands behind my back. Okay, her name isn’t really H.K.W. It’s Amihan. Amihan Marquez. She’s a painter and a water ballerina. Mom told me this one night last year. I was on the floor in my room gluing pictures of flowers I cut out from her old Good Housekeeping magazines on bond paper for my "Flowers of the World" project in Botany. I thought she would get mad when she came into the room because I made so much kalat and spilled Elmer’s Glue on the floor. I was about to cover the gluey spot with a piece of bond paper so she wouldn’t see it when she suddenly sat down on the floor with me. She didn’t see the spot at all. Her eyes were red and she was wiping her sipon with a Kleenex. "Tanya, I have to talk to you," she said, looking very serious. I wondered what I did wrong. Uh-oh, maybe I forgot to check if the magazines I was cutting were really old! Then, she got up and pulled me towards her. "Come with me," she said and led me to the door. "Where are we going?" I asked. "To Aristocrat," she said. "Let’s have a midnight snack." It was only nine o’clock. Mom, Tisha and I go to Aristocrat for breakfast every Sunday after hearing Mass in Malate Church. It’s near our house on Carolina Street so we just walk. Dad stopped going to church a long time ago. Mom says he’s an atheist, which is someone who doesn’t believe in God. Mom says when he was a little boy he was a sacristan in their church, but when he became a grownup he stopped believing in God. That’s why Tisha and I study in the Learning Community where they don’t teach religion. Mom wanted us to go to a Catholic school like Assumption, but Dad said no. He said he wanted us to learn to think for ourselves and not according to any religion. That’s why when my cousins asked me to show them my First Communion picture and I said I didn’t have one, they laughed at me. Mom said not to mind them. She lets me take Communion anyway, because I like the taste of the Body of Christ. "But Mom," I whined, "I have to change first. I’m just in my pajamas and chinelas!" "That’s okay, let’s go, come on!" She almost yanked my arm off. That’s when I knew something was really wrong. She never allows us to leave the house unless we’re dressed nicely. We can’t even play outside in our slippers. We have to wear shoes. I ordered my favorite Chicken Honey and a Choco-Vim. Mom wasn’t hungry. She just asked for tea. It was very different in Aristocrat at night. There were no children like on Sundays, no vendors in front selling balloons and colored popcorn and pet chicks and colorful maya birds in bamboo cages. Just negra-looking women in very short skirts wearing a lot of makeup, making landi to foreigners. I tried not to stare at them too much. I think they’re called Hospitality Girls. I see them hanging around the go-go bars when the school bus passes by Mabini Street. While waiting for our order, Mom told me. "You’re a big girl now," she began. No, I’m not, I wanted to say, because when we form a line "according to height" during flag ceremony, I’m just Number 2. "And you’re very smart for your age," she continued. Oh, okay, maybe she meant I was only eight and already in Grade Four. All my other classmates were ten. "So I know it’s time for you to know," Mom said, trying not to cry. She said Dad still loved us but he wanted a baby boy so badly that he had to find another Mommy for it. Mom said all she could make was girls like me and Tisha and Thea. But she said Diego, our baby brother, was very cute and we would meet him soon and he might stay with us during the weekends. She said not to tell other people, that it would be our Family Secret. Yaya later told me that Amihan was a kabit and Diego was an anak sa labas. I tried to cry like Flor de Luna. I blinked my eyes very hard, waiting for tears to come out, but nothing came out. So I just embraced Mom and stroked her hair, which only made her cry more. I didn’t know what to do. The Hospitality Girls were looking at her. I said "Shhhh…" like I see in sad movies on TV. I felt like I was the Mommy and she was the baby. By the time my order came, I had lost my appetite, so Mom just told the waiter, "Take home." Tita Amihan (Mom told me to call her that, but I still can’t say it out loud) is still smiling at me even if I’m suplada to her. Her teeth are very big and white, like her eyes. Maybe they look so white because her skin is so dark, not like Mom, who’s fair like me and has singkit eyes and short, straight hair like mine. We always have our hair cut in the same style in the beauty parlor, the Page Boy. It’s the same hairstyle in her wedding photo with Dad, where she looks so pretty in her Princess gown and he looks so handsome in his Amerikana, I swear they look just like a movie love team, like Susan Roces and Eddie Gutierrez or Gloria Romero and Juancho Gutierrez in the Sine Siete movies Yaya lets us watch every afternoon before our siesta. Tisha looks more like Dad, dark and curly with big eyes. Yaya told me Tita Amihan looks like a Jeprox, like Sampaguita, because she’s always wearing long, loose clothes with no bra and doesn’t comb her hair whenever Yaya picks up Diego from their apartment every Saturday to bring him to our house. Once, when Mom heard me calling Tita Amihan a Jeprox, she got mad and said it’s not nice to call people names. She explained that Tita Amihan was an artist and probably a hippie, that’s why she looked like that. Mom said Tita Amihan was the one who painted the big blue-and-green painting in our sala. That’s what the A.M. in the bottom corner of the painting meant all along – Amihan Marquez! Well, it’s not really a painting of anything. It just looks like a jigsaw puzzle. Dad told me it’s called an abstract, but he didn’t tell me shepainted it. It used to be my favorite painting in the whole house and I used to copy it all the time in my sketchpad with my Cray Pas – until I learned the Family Secret. Well, I think she looks a like a bomba star. Like a negra Vivian Velez doing her sexy "Body Language" dance on Discorama on Channel 7. They have the same body, like in the rhyme the boys in school love to recite: "Wow sexy, Katawan Pepsi, Coca-Cola body, Lawlaw panty!" Vivian Velez is also always bra-less. When she dances, she squirms and wiggles and her big boobs jiggle around, so Tisha and I laugh and copy her wriggly worm dance while singing, "When you’re moving next to me, I can feel your body heat, so come on move a little closer, let me feel your body heat…" Whenever we watch the show every Saturday night, Tito Boy, Mom’s younger brother, points to her nipples making bakatunder her tube top and says, "Hayop!" Right now in the pool, Tita Amihan’s nipples are also making bakat under her wet bathing suit. She also won’t stop smiling at me. I hate her stupid smile. What’s she so happy about anyway? I suddenly remember that I haven’t seen Mom smile in such a long time. She’s always sad and crying or mad at Dad. "Okay, girls, who can show me how to inhale and exhale?" Tita Amihan asks. I raise my hand automatically like I always do when I know the answer in class. Tsk! Why’d I do that? Oh well. I won’t smile na lang. I show Tita Amihan and Tisha how, drawing in air through my nose and making my stomach small, then breathing the air out, making my stomach big. "Very good," Tita Amihan exclaims and claps. "Now, we are going to make bubbles by doing what Tanya did – but under the water. Let’s blow out air through our nose and mouth. Let’s pretend we’re sea lions. Do you know what a sea lion is?" I roll my eyes. Sus! Of course I do! I learned it in Zoology. Does she know it’s a mammal? Tita Amihan sinks down into the water, and when Tisha sees bubbles form on top of her head, she gets excited and copies her right away. Soon, they’re both jumping up and down in the water again, making lots of bubbles and laughing when they come up. "Wow, Tisha, you’re a nachural!" she says, pronouncing natural with a "ch." It’s just like the way Dad says pizza pie with a "ch" and supermarket and stupid with a "sh" instead of an "s." They’re looking at me, but I just stand there with my arms crossed in front of me. "Come on, Tanya, try it!" Tita Amihan calls out to me. "Yes, Ate Tanya, try it, it’s fun!" Tisha squeals. It looks pretty easy, but my feet are glued to the floor of the pool and I can’t move. It’s so noisy, I can’t concentrate – suddenly my ears have turned bionic and I can hear the kids in the pool talking, laughing, screaming and splashing water all at the same time. I stare at Tita Amihan’s curly porcupines. Maybe they’re baho like the anghit of the high school boys who play basketball in our school gym sometimes. I force myself to try. I bend my knees and crouch down until the water comes up to my chin, then I stop. I’m afraid to taste the water that’s been touched by her kili-kili hair, so I press my lips inwards very tightly to seal my tongue in, then continue crouching down until my head is completely under the water. But I forget to close my eyes! Ouch! The water goes inside my eyes and stings them, so I shut them very tight. I forget to exhale, so the water goes inside my nostrils, stinging them, too. Ouch! I jerk up and come out of the water. I start coughing and sputtering. My eyes are still shut tight and I’m pinching my nose because it’s so painful, like the time a grain of rice got stuck in it. Even my throat hurts. Tita Amihan rushes to me and puts her arm around me. "Oh no, Tanya, are you okay?" she asks. I struggle away from her grasp and grab the hand railing. "I’m fine, leave me alone," I’m sungit to her again as I wipe the water from my eyes and smooth back all the clumped wet hair that’s all over my face. I want to quit and leave the pool, but I can’t. I’m trapped. Dad won’t pick us up until five. I never wanted to be here in the first place, but I was afraid that Mom and Dad would fight again if I complained. Who cares about swimming anyway? Only Dad does. He says we have to grow up to be survivors. "One day, you’ll be on a boat that will sink. What if you don’t know how to swim? In life, you either sink or swim!" he always says. Dad grew up near Bauang Beach in La Union, so he learned how to swim at a very young age. He wants us to be like him, and even if we’re girls, he wants us to learn things like riding a bike and karate and sports. He got so angry last summer when Mom, Tisha and I came back from the YWCA and she told him she enrolled us in Hula and Tahitian dance instead of swimming because all the classes were full when we got there. "Hula? Tahitian?" he screamed at Mom. "Ano’ng lecheng kaartehan na naman ‘yan? That’s not a survival skill! It’s just a waste of money. My money!" I got scared. He was already mad at Mom for enrolling us in ballet classes. Dad grew up poor and had to sell newspapers and shine shoes to put himself through school, that’s why I think he wants us to have a hard time, too. Whenever he sees us with a new toy or new clothes or shoes, he says, "When I was your age, we never had enough money for those things. We had to work to save up money for what we needed." He says we might become spoiled brats if we get too used to special stuff. But Mom used to be a folk dancer, so she wanted us to learn dancing, too. She said we would have good posture and become graceful. I make sure Dad never sees me and Tisha practicing our dancing, and I always hide our ballet shoes and grass skirts under my bed. I know that if he sees them he’ll remember our dance lessons and get mad again. I’m always afraid to make him angry. He might get so mad and leave all of us and make a new family with Tita Amihan and Diego. These days, when I hear his car horn honking whenever he comes home early at night I grab Tisha and we run to my room and hide under my bed. But that’s not too often, because usually by the time he gets home we’re already asleep. Don’t worry, Tanya, you’ll get the hang of it before you know it! Let’s do something easier," says Tita Amihan. She leads us to the gutter and tells us to hold on to it with both hands while stretching out our arms in front of us, then to let our legs float to the surface and kick our feet behind us. "Kick from your knees with your toes pointed," she says. That’s easy, we learned how to point our toes in ballet. "Pretend the top of the water is the roof, and you’re breaking the roof from below with your feet." she says. As Tisha and I kick the water-roof, I remember that Tita Amihan is a water ballerina. Mom told me she was an Aquabelle in Sulô Hotel, where there’s an underground restaurant with a huge glass window with a view of one side of the pool so the people eating could watch the Aquabelles do water ballet. I’ve always wondered if that’s how they met. Maybe Dad was eating there and saw her in the window like the Little Mermaid and fell in love with her. Or maybe he saw her nipples making bakat under her bathing suit. But I’m too scared to ask Mom. It might make her cry again. I wonder why Dad doesn’t want us to study ballet when Tita Amihan is a ballerina, too. Well, sort of. I want to be a ballerina, too, but the real kind, onstage. "Now, girls, slowly put your face in the water, then try to release your hands from the gutter and kick backwards. Don’t worry, Tanya, you can close your eyes first. Inhale, exhale." I look at Tisha. She’s doing it already – just like that, she can swim! Without touching the gutter! And her eyes are open! I can’t believe it. How can she be so brave? I’m surprised that I can even put my face down in the water, but I can’t let go of the gutter. Every time I try to let go, one hand at a time, just when I’m almost there I change my mind and cling to it again. It’s like I’m glued to the gutter with Elmer’s. What a scaredy cat! Soon, my legs are tired. I stand up to see Tisha and Tita Amihan smiling again and looking at me. They must think I’m stupid and hopeless. "Keep trying, Tanya," Tita Amihan says. "You can do it, Ate," Tisha shouts. I roll my eyes. Why does she have to make kampi? Arrrggh! Why can’t I do it? I’m not stupid, I’m bright! In school they call me a prodigy. I can learn anything! Even this! Maybe if I learn this stupid thing we won’t have to see Tita Amihan ever again, and Dad will forget about her and our family will go back to normal. The sides of my tummy hurt. So does my head. I really just want to go home. But I can’t give up or she’ll think I’m stupid. I shiver in the water but decide I will keep trying even if my fingers are all wrinkled like prunes and manhid. On my tenth try, just before I stand up to give up, I feel Tita Amihan’s hands on my stomach. "Relax," she says, "relax your legs and put your face back in the water again," moving me in the water towards the middle of the pool, "and let me teach you how to float." I’m so tired, I have no strength left to put up a fight. Her voice is so gentle I feel like I’m being hypnotized. I become a very obedient girl and surrender to her. I can feel my whole body turning very straight in the water, touched only by the palm of her hand. Before I know it, my eyes have popped open without the water stinging them, and I can see the blue floor of the pool. It looks like a page from my math notebook. I imagine numbers on each tile and try to solve a math problem. But there are no numbers, just dark, skinny legs attached to ugly bathing suits running around underwater. All of a sudden, it’s very quiet. No noise from the public school children, no crying Mom, no yelling Dad. It’s like a very nice dream. In my head I can hear my favorite Church song, "Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me…" I always wondered what "peace on earth" was like. Maybe it’s like this. Just me and the water and no noise. My body is moving forward like a slow submarine. Nothing is touching me anymore except the water, and I feel like I’m in a cradle. A water cradle that’s rocking me to sleep. I can hear someone saying "Shhhhh…" and it’s not me. It’s Mom! "Shhhhh…" she says, and I’m back to being the baby again. I make bubbles without even trying. After a while, my eyes begin to feel very heavy so I try to make them open wider. The floor has become even bluer, and more peaceful. When I look around me, there are no more skinny legs touching the floor! Where did all the children go? I look to my right behind me and see green flowers and leaves… attached to a body… attached to arms… attached to armpits – with hairy porcupines! It’s not Mom who’s rocking me, it’s Tita Amihan! I wriggle away from her and move the opposite way. I look to my left and see "6 FT" written on the wall. I panic when I remember that the last time I got measured in the doctor’s office, I was just four feet tall. I struggle to get up and lift my head out the water, but my body shoots downward like something’s pulling me from below. I drop lower and lower near the blue floor. I can’t breathe. I can’t make bubbles. I’m sinking. I really want to cry but I can’t underwater. Then, from out of the blue, Aquabelle swoops down to rescue me from the floor like Aquaman on Superfriends. She grabs on to my waist and wrist and pulls me up to the surface zooming through the water like a torpedo. I gasp for breath, coughing and spitting out water. She lifts me onto the pool’s edge, where Tisha is dangling her feet in the water with a very worried look. "Are you okay?" Tita Amihan asks, throwing a towel around me. "Why did you panic? You were floating already! You were really doing well, Tanya! You didn’t have to worry. I was right there beside you. Just trust me, okay? Next time, you just have to trust me." I just stare at her. Then, I look at the big clock by the lifeguard tower and say, "It’s almost five o’clock. Dad will be here soon. My Mom is waiting for us at home." I get up and run to the ladies’ shower room, forgetting to bring Tisha along. When we come out of the YWCA, Dad is already waiting at the entrance with Diego. His face lights up when he sees Tita Amihan in her loose, white backless dress. I don’t think he even sees me or Tisha until she runs to him and shouts, "I can swim, Dad! I can swim!" He smiles, then looks at me. "How about you, Tanya?" He looks back at Tita Amihan, who gives him a strange look like they have a code. I say nothing, except "Where’s the car?" He points to the parking lot across the street. He’s so busy looking at her that when I say "Can I have the key?" he just hands them over without looking. I leave them and walk towards the car. When I turn around, I see Dad and Tita Amihan holding a squealing Diego in between them, swinging him back and forth with their arms while they talk. I’ve never seen Dad laugh and smile so much. He looks so happy. Not mad like he usually is at home. Tisha wants to join them and tries to squeeze in, so I run back to get her and force her to come with me to our car. "Tisha, get in the back of the car!" I order her. "Ate!" she whines but obeys me. I think of joining her in the back seat, but I worry that Tita Amihan might sit in front, and that’s Mom’s seat. So I sit in front instead. If she wants, she can stay with Tisha in the back. I sneak a look across the street again. I catch Dad kissing Tita Amihan on the lips. Then, she walks away from him in the opposite direction with Diego. Dad crosses the street to join us, alone. When we get home, it is almost six thirty, and Mom is standing in front of our gate carrying Baby Thea, right under the lamppost. In the ray of light shining over her head, I can see a cloud of lamoks flying on top of her hair. She’s wearing her pink Chinese silk robe on top of her pambahay and just chinelas, and has a kawawa face – the kind Tisha makes when she knows she’s about to be spanked. She’s wiping her nose with a Kleenex again. I wonder how long she’s been waiting for us? She didn’t have to stand out there in the street – why didn’t Yaya just call her inside the house when Dad honked the horn? I suddenly feel very sad. We didn’t even think of buying any pasalubong for her! I don’t care if Dad gets mad, I run out of the car to her and hug her tight. She smiles down at me and asks, "So, can you swim now?" I whisper, "I didn’t learn Mom, she’s not a good teacher!" And just before Tisha can shout from the car window, "I can swim, Mom!" I whisper to her again, "Please don’t make me take swimming lessons with her again, Mom. Please." She kisses my forehead, then Thea’s, and nods.

Sink or Swim Myrza Sison Second Prize, Short Story, 2006 Palanca Awards

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pixieungerstories · 5 years

Text

Housemates - 25

Trigger Warning - attempted poisoning, drugging someone’s drink

Vinny had snuck down from her bathroom and into Derick’s room hoping to avoid the others. She had come to care for all of them, in there own way, but Derick was still her favourite. They still went running most mornings. He was like her own personal cheering section. He cared about the fine details of school and would remember which lab partner was useless and which ones she liked working with.

Kogan was good like that with major assignments. Gently encouraging her to focus when she would slack off, or when a study break started to go long. He was also good at finding her little rewards when she did well.

Tristan was the guy to hang out with when she needed to just escape from her life for a while.

Her relationship with the others had been strictly professional. Until now. Now she couldn’t quite figure out what to do.

Right now, she was snuggled up to Derick who was gently tracing patterns on her back. However lost in thought she was, he was paying attention. “What’s wrong, Vinny?”

She jumped slightly, then started to stall, then just blurted out, “I had a threesome…. Or maybe a foursome with Thea, Dren and sort of Bazur. I wasn’t planning on that. I thought Thea was just going to give me a back rub.” She felt Derick tense under her. “Not… I mean, I wanted it. I asked. I could have said no. I just… I don’t know what to do now.”

Derick nodded, “First, I want to say thank you for being nice to Thea. He really needed that. As for what to do now, well, now you just act normal. You haven’t done anything wrong. If you want to spend time with them, that’s fine. If you don’t that’s fine too.”

Vinny just shook her head, “What kind of woman fucks six guys in two weeks?”

Now Derick sat up, “A well adjusted one who knows what she wants. Is shame really what you want here? Or are you just worried about what your mom would think?”

“My sex life is none of my mother’s business!” Vinny replied firmly.

“OK,” Derick agreed. “So tell me what is bothering you.”

“I don’t know,” she finally said. “This isn’t… normal.”

Derick sighed. “I’m sorry, I really am. But no one here is normal. That doesn’t mean that we don’t all care about you.”

“I know,” Vinny muttered. “I guess I just need time to get used to the idea.”

“That’s fair. But I need to know something. Is the reason we are in here instead out there with the rest of the family because you are ashamed?”

Vinny nodded.

Derick was really quiet before he asked, “Are you ashamed of us?”

“No!” she didn’t even hesitate. “I’m just… Look, it isn’t… typical for a woman to have… what? A harem?? Six lovers. If I just suddenly start talking about you, all of you, there are going to be negative repercussions for all of us.”

Derick shrugged, “So just don’t talk about it. How is it anyone’s business but yours?”

“It isn’t. Just…” she stopped talking to think. “I don’t know. A lot to take in.”

Derick nodded and lay back down, pulling her close so he could go back to drawing patterns on her back. “That I understand. It will be ok. If you want to stop, that’s OK. If you want to just play it by ear, that’s ok. And whether you tell anyone or not, we will support you whatever happens.”

Vinny nodded.

“And I’ll talk to the boys to make sure we are discrete around Kevin. Given the whole jello incident, I can see why you would want to exclude him, but we will try to at least be tactful about it.”

She didn’t know what to think about that. She wasn’t trying to exclude Kevin anymore than she was trying to have… whatever that afternoon was. The opportunity arose and she just went for it. Yeah, she had felt embarrassed and betrayed by the jello thing, but that was months ago. She wasn’t holding a grudge because it had really been the point where Kevin had started being a decent person around her.

The problem was, even if she hadn’t looked up minotaur porn, and had looked up drider porn. Mimic porn was the sort you accidentally stumbled on when out on the web. It was right up there with the gang bang you didn’t want to see.

It was generally included with the fucking machine videos. After all, society didn’t consider Mimics to be people. It was straight line from person using a vibe to person tied down and a vibe being used on them to a person tied to a mimic.

Vinny squirmed a little, because now that picture was in her head too.

-----

Vinny was celibate all through midterms. There just wasn’t time. She just made do with two minute quickies with her vibe in the shower.

But they were finally over. The exams were written, the reports handed in. Right on time for the halloween parties to start. Vinny and Jenn were on a pub crawl. By random luck Derick’s was the last bar of the night, so the plan was to shut the place down and have him give them a lift home. Vinny had planned ahead and was going as little red riding hood. Jenn was Wonder Woman.

They never made it. They were at The Fish trying to be good and drink some soda and eat a plate of nachos to balance out all the booze, when some jocks came over with drinks for them. They were flirty and the one somehow managed to flex as he stole their nachos.

Vinny was still sipping her iced tea, but Jenn was finished her coke. When she reached for the pink and fruity drink they guys had brought her, an orc hand darted out first and caught it.

“What the hell man?” the jock demanded.

The bouncer and another orc were right behind the guy now holding Jenn’s drink. “They put something in this between the bar and the table. And maybe it’s nothing, but I would like to see one of them drink it.”

Three of the guys just looked confused. The last looked cagey.

That was the one the Bouncer grabbed a hold of and dragged away. The guy holding Jenn’s drink picked up Vinny’s as well. The last orc lead Vinny and Jenn to the manager’s office. “I don’t think you will need to give a statement, since you didn’t see the pill go into the drink and you didn’t drink the drink. But you can wait here if you want.”

Vinny looked at Jenn who was shaking. “Yeah,” she said, “Thanks.”

“No problem! Me and Joe are part of Kogan’s tribe.” He pulled off his hoodie to show off a familiar looking tattoo. “He asked us all to keep an eye on you. I spotted you as soon as you came in!” he said proudly.

“Uh.. thanks?” Vinny honestly wasn’t sure what to say about that. Jenn wasn’t saying anything.

The orc looked at his hoodie, then at Jenn. “Miss? Did you want to wrap up in this? I’m a bit worried about you going into shock.”

“Thank you,” the hoodie fit Jenn like she was wearing a tent. Vinny was well aware of that look.

The cops were very discrete. The female officer who talked to Vinny and Jenn was very polite. And very concerned about them having a safe ride home. That was when they realized they had missed the pub crawl bus.

Jayce, who had shared his sweater with Jenn had a suggestion. “Vinny? Call Kogan and check me out!” He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and handed her his driver’s licence. “I can take you to the next pub, if you want.”

“Do you know this man?” the officer asked.

Vinny shook her head, “No, but he says he’s part of the same tribe as one of the guys I live with.”

“Vinny is a live in housekeeper,” Jenn hurried to explain.

Vinny blinked. The orc’s face froze. The officer nodded, “Calling to check out this guy before you go off with a stranger is a good idea. Getting a cab is a better one.”

They both nodded. Vinny doubted they could get a cab in this neighbourhood at this time of night. They would all be hanging out near the upscale bars downtown. By the time they were free to go, it was really too late and they were too sober to try to track down the bus. Vinny texted Derick to tell him they were just going home.

Then she called Kogan. He was running security at an event that night.

He picked up the first ring, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine! But… some guy tried to slip Jenn and I a date rape drug and some orcs stopped him, then we had to wait for the cops and now we just wanna go home. But it’s 1:30 in the morning and we are at The Fish.”

“Jesus. Um… I’ll just… I need a minute to figure out who can come and get you.” Kogan replied.

“It’s just that… look the guys who stopped him say they are part of your tribe and they can give us a ride home, but-”

“Pass the phone over to them, please.”

Vinny did. There was a long conversation in orcish. About half way through Jayce straightened up and was suddenly a lot closer to the ceiling than he had been when he slouched.

He handed the phone back to Vinny. “Yeah, you can go with him. Have him drop off Jenn first, then he can wait for me at the house, OK?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Somehow, Jayce and Jenn ended up flirting in the front of the car while Vinny was riding in the back. When they got to Jenn’s dorm, she went to give Jayce his sweater back.

“Keep it. You can call me next week and let me know how you are doing. I’ll pick it up then.”

Vinny rolled her eyes. Jenn just giggled. She leaned across the car and gave Jayce a peck on the cheek before running inside. Vinny climbed into the front. Jayce was grinning like an idiot.

He looked at her, “Think she likes me?”

Vinny rolled her eyes. “I’ll let you know,” she said sarcastically.

“Really? That would be great! Thanks Vinny!”

Jayce drove her home in silence for a long moment. Then he said, “She didn’t know Kogan is your mate.”

Vinny shifted uncomfortably. She started to talk a couple of times and stopped. What she finally said was, “My mom is strictly Catholic.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“You have my sympathies.”

He said it so sincerely, like he was consoling her on the loss of a loved one.

Vinny burst out laughing. “I’m sorry! That probably wouldn’t be that funny if it wasn’t almost 2 am.”

Jayce grinned, “that’s why Kogan wants me to stay with you. And trust me, how ever hard you find it to explain your relationship to your mother, Kogan had the same problems taking his relationship with you to the tribe. It’s probably just that he has more -” Jayce broke off for a moment, then continued, “experience than you do.”

“OK, now tell me what you were going to say.”

Jayce shrugged as he parked his car in front of the house. “Humans don’t have a word for it, as far as I know. Kogan’s title in the tribe means war hero, grandfather, respected elder, boss, life coach and counselor all at the same time.”

“That’s a lot to put into one word,” Vinny agreed as she unlocked the door. The porch light was on. The front entry light was on, but she remembered too late that everyone would be out except for Kevin.

Damn it. She climbed out of her shoes and hung up her coat. She just wanted a shower and to go to bed. She wasn’t even planning on waiting for her hair to dry. But she was not comfortable doing that while there was a stranger in the lobby.

“Well, thanks for seeing me home. I don’t want to take any more of your time,” she hinted.

“Oh, it’s no trouble. Kogan wanted me to stay with you until he gets home in case anything happens from any of your other drinks.” Jayce thought for a moment. “I should get you some water and something to eat. Which way is the kitchen?”

Vinny was going to protest that he didn’t have to, but she remembered Kogan’s protective streak and just pointed. She staggered into the lounge. Kevin was currently a chaise. He tottered over on short legs and bumped against her calves. Vinny sat down heavily. Then she put her feet up. Kevin’s arms snaked out of somewhere and pulled a blanket over her.

“ ‘ank oo,” Vinny mumbled.

She was asleep before Jayce returned.

She was vaguely aware of Kogan coming home and Jayce updating him on what was going on.

“Is she passed out, or just asleep?”

“Well, I was asleep, Kogan.”

“That’s fine. Go back to sleep, Vinny.”

That was fairly easy, she hadn’t actually opened her eyes to comment. Sometime later, she was carried up the stairs. Someone carefully cleaned off her makeup using her wipes, and tucked her into her bed. She slept some more before Kogan got her up to change out of her costume and drink some water. At which point she really had to pee, then she was awake anyway, so she had a shower and washed her hair. Then she refilled her cup from the sink and drank some more water.

She came out to find Kogan, Derick and Kevin sitting on her bed. She blinked at them, feeling fairly confused.

Kogan nodded at her, “You are sleeping with us tonight, little girl.”

Vinny frowned a little.

“Kogan has the biggest bed and we are all worried.”

Vinny considered that. “I’m not actually sober yet.”

“I know darlin’ that’s why it’s just sleep,” Kogan assured her.

Hey - if you like this, check me out on Patreon. I have several books of reasonably priced content up there.

#Minotaur #mimic #slime #orc #werewolf #gargoyle #drider #terato #exophilia

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the--blackdahlia · 5 years

Text

Newsroom Chapter 2

Title: Newsroom Chapter 2

Summary: Sam and Dean travel to Indianapolis, Indiana to investigate a haunting at a news station. But things take a turn when the boys become part of the TV personalities.

Warnings: None for this chapter

AN: So, do you guys feel like it’s like an episode?

Dean could hear Sam’s alarm buzzing. He was laying in bed, listening to some records. He hadn’t really slept very good and had almost fallen asleep to the sounds of Robert Plant singing when he heard that damn alarm. Dean rubbed at his eyes. He knew Sam would be up and going for a jog soon. Dean never understood why you would run if you didn’t have to, but whatever.

He heard Sam’s door open and close as he got up for the day. He would just love it if the kid would sleep in for once in his life. Dean wrapped himself up more in his blankets and tried to get back to sleep, successfully doing so for at least a few minutes. But finally, the need to get up got the best of him. He wrapped his robe around him and shuffled to the kitchen.

“Hey.” Sam said, eating some toast.

“Thought you’d be out on a jog ” Dean said. Sam shook his head.

“It’s raining. I’ll hit the gym later if I feel like it.” Sam was typing away at his laptop. Dean looked at the coffee pot. It was cold and the coffee inside looked like it had seen better days.

“You make fresh coffee?” Dean asked.

“No. Didn’t want any this morning,” Sam told him, reading something. Dean rolled his eyes and rinsed the pot out before finding the coffee. He was going to break down and find himself one of those pod makers sometime. That way, he could have whatever flavor he wanted and didn’t have to decide with Sam on if they wanted a lighter, breakfast blend or a dark, almost charcoal roast.

“So, a rainy Kansas day. Lovely.” Dean said, leaning against the counter as he waited for his coffee to brew. Sam just nodded, obviously deep into his story. “Does that mean we’re staying in to watch Netflix and braid your hair?”

“Ha ha. Very funny.” Sam said. “Actually, I think I’ve got us a case.”

“A case?” Dean asked. Sam nodded. “Okay, sell it to me.”

“So get this,” Sam began. “A news station in Indianapolis, Indiana has had several deaths over the past few months. The most recent one was a guy was hanging by some film reels he was working on.”

“Maybe he was just depressed. That stuff happens.” Dean said. Sam shook his head.

“Before that, a sports reporter found at the bottom of the staircase. The surveillance for the stairwell looks like he was picked up and thrown down the middle of it.” Sam explained. “I’m looking into the history of the building now, but so far, nothing.”

“They could just be unlucky, but it would make sense to go check for a hex bag or something.” Dean said. Sam looked up at him. He was expecting more of a fight, but they both just needed a hunt that didn’t involve some sort of Apocalypse. “And, I knew a girl from Indianapolis.” Dean winked at Sam.

“Oh come on.” Sam sighed.

“What? I’ve got needs man.” Dean laughed. “Let me get some coffee in me first, okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” Sam closed his laptop. “I’m gonna get my gear together. Let me know when you’re ready to leave.” He headed to his room and shut the door, looking at the state of it. There were clothes on the floor, his bed was unmade. Normally, he was more up on the housekeeping of his space, but here in the past month, he just couldn’t find it in himself to care. He started looking through his clean clothes to get stuff for the trip.

After he got packed up, he opened his laptop up again to create their cover story. Things had been a lot on him since Garth tried to stay on the down low recently, and since Bobby had died. He shot Garth a text, telling him that he was using him as his “in case of questions” person as he typed up the documents. Interns from the local Kansas affiliate. Sam just hoped that the story went over right. Dean came out of his room then; cleaned up, dressed, packed, and ready to go.

“Hey, what’s taking so long?” Dean asked, earning a glare from Sam. “What?”

“Nothing,” Sam said. “We’re interns from a small news station here in Kansas.”

“Aren’t we a little old to be interns?” Dean asked.

“Robert De Niro could be an intern for Anne Hathaway. I think we’ve got this.” Sam said. Sam looked up at Dean’s confused face. “Oh come on, we watched that movie together.”

“Yeah, I think I slept through it,” Dean said with a shrug. “Okay, so we’re interns and we’ve been transferred to Indianapolis.”

“Yes,” Sam said. “It’s pretty much an eleven hour straight shot from here to there, so we’ve got all that time to learn about the media stuff.” Dean groaned. “We just have to know the basics. We’re interns after all. And hey, you were that personal assistant or whatever that one time when we were on the set of Hellhazers 2.”

“That was how many lifetimes ago?” Dean asked. “Okay, well, let’s get this show on the road.” Sam shut his laptop and packed it in the travel bag. Dean was already on his way to the garage before Sam even had a chance to grab his bags. With a bit of a sigh, Sam made his way towards the Impala. At least Dean was in a good mood instead of worrying about Mary and Jack. Sam settled into the passenger seat.

“Okay, want me to start telling you about what our jobs will intel?” Sam asked.

“No, no. Not yet.” Dean said. “I gotta have my tunes man. You should know this by now.” Sam rolled his eyes as Aerosmith started playing once Dean started the engine. Sam situated himself to be comfy to research while Dean drove.

Forever Tags: @anathewierdo @we-ride-with-the-tide @dekahg @marvel-af @feelmyroarrrr @nanie5 @imboredsueme @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogaruke @xxwarhawk @strab0 @sandlee44 @screechingartisancashbailiff

Supernatural Tags: @bandobsession98 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @fangirlsencyclopaediaofweirdness @ilovetardis @missihart23 @cloudyskylines @supernaturalwincestsblog @flamencodiva @sams-serialkiller-fetish @theas-bedtime-stories

Newsroom Tags: @mysteriousharmony

#newsroom #sam winchester #dean winchester #supernatural #fanfiction #jared padalecki #jensen ackles

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odesseaverse · 5 years

Text

The Earth Shaman

The time of the Earth Shaman was a long one, with a lot of side characters and changing dynamics to explore. It’s kind of a miscellaneous category spanning hundreds of years, but you’ll get to see some key players rise to the challenge of leading Odessea. Everything comes to revolve around a single, central character...Read on to learn more about the continuing origin of Odessea.

Timeline: Year 4565-5099

Key Player: Mana, Companion to the Earth Shaman (b. 4759, d. 4838), most likely the single most important character in the Earth Timeline, as she was the first character I wrote about when I began to write about Odessea’s past. Also the first in a long list of badass women that will continue below. She originated from a wealthy artisan family constantly at war with her best friend Rhys’, but rejected the path they had set out for her, never becoming the heir to their business. From the beginning, she was different: born with a scar-like birthmark on her right cheek, with a proclivity for excitement and adventure and clear admiration for the heroic deeds of the past. As she began to resist her family’s demands to conform to their expectations for her, she and her friend Rhys were appointed the new Companion and Shaman after the death of the fifth leader following the Water Shaman. At the age of 14, she became a fierce and loyal leader with a rebellious streak, constantly challenging tradition while keeping lessons she learned from old tales close to heart. Mana also grew accustomed to visits from the spirit realm, as she endeavored to help Rhys in developing his powers. From the outside, it appeared to many as though the Shaman and Companion had gone from enemies-to-lovers, and the story was often repeated and saved in history, but in reality, Mana had chosen someone else: the daughter of her mother’s housekeeper, Suki. Keeping her relationship a secret from the village (Rhys found out after a time, but never told) meant that she had to carry out a balancing act with her responsibilities and her feelings, which proved difficult at times, but was a sacrifice Mana was willing to make. However, she was warned by the spirit of her predecessor, the First Companion, Xander, that her position was one in which she would encounter loss, sooner than she might imagine. In his case, it had been the untimely death of his youngest daughter. Upon the incident of summer 4787, Mana faltered and turned away from her leadership, her heart broken, and only with the help of Rhys and her younger relative, Kanako (see below), she was able to regain some of her strength. Later in life, she chose to become a teacher to anyone who wished to learn about the skills necessary to be a leader, to defend oneself, and to stay true to who you are, with Kanako being her first and lifelong student. She also recorded a great deal of the island’s history and her own accounts as a Companion, some of which she discovered she had written as a teenager. Never taking another lover after Suki, she remained faithful and never forgot what she had learned from the woman who had once been her heart and soul. Living without her for thirty long years, Mana passed on in peace, with Rhys at her side. As her spirit traveled to where it would be at rest, she discovered that, at the time of her birth, the spirit of the First Companion’s youngest daughter, who had died an untimely death, had manifested to assist her mother through a difficult labor, leaving behind the mysterious mark on Mana’s cheek and showing that she would grow to have a strong connection to the spirit realm.

Key Player: Rhys, the Earth Shaman (b. 4759, d. 4873). Born to a rival artisanal family, he got along with Mana from the beginning, with her leading the way throughout their childhood. However, pressure from his family to have a proper upbringing left him with an emotional disorder he struggled with for his entire life, and a bad encounter with Mana’ s ornery grandfather left him terrified to express himself, leaving him “constantly living in his own head,” as Mana called it. He embraced the spiritual side of his new position when he became the new, immortal Shaman at the age of 14, gaining special powers that allowed spirits to possess his body to speak through him, but shied away from the public role of a leader, his never-truly-admitted depression and social anxiety making it difficult for him to act the part. Instead, Mana became his proxy, speaking for him and negotiating with the rest of the village, while he made formal appearances only at ceremonies and celebrations, presenting himself as the spiritually devoted leader. He relied on Mana’s support and understanding for years, before a tragic accident left Suki gravely injured and Mana falling apart. Rhys became determined to take on the responsibility Mana had accepted unquestioningly for him, and set about trying to heal her broken heart through his actions. Realizing how much she had taken on at such a young age, Rhys made sure that she would never be overburdened again, giving her more time to focus on herself and becoming a true educator. He also used his powers to the utmost to reunite Mana and Suki in their dreams, a skill that he later taught to the Fire Shaman. Though neither he nor Mana would ever be “whole” again, they were still able to be one another’s strengths. At Mana’s death, he stayed at her side, vowing to continue to shape the island into a place she would be proud of, opening up the island to more interactions with the outside world and creating a greater space for inter-island trade. Abdicating his leadership and his immortality in 4869, at the age of 110, he was left with only four years for his age to catch up to him, and many tales were written of him in his wise old age. He was particularly close to the spirit of the Water Shaman, but left behind no one at his death, with the exception of his great legacy, which ushered in a new golden era for Odessea.

Key Player: Suki (b. 4759, d. 4802), the significant other of Mana. A kind and self-sacrificing girl born on another island and adopted by Mana’s mother’s housekeeper. Despite being discriminated against for being an outsider and looking physically different, she never held it against anyone. She was nonetheless kept away from the rest of the village, working with her mother to look after Mana and the house she grew up in. Suki developed a passion for working with the earth and tending the land she lived on, becoming an apprentice cultivator for the village at the age of 12. She was able to assist the village’s farmers and tend to the nature of the island as a whole, which she had dreamed of doing since she had been young. Soon after, she realized that she was falling for her only friend, and confessed her feelings when she was 14 and Mana 15. Their relationship remained a secret for multiple years, even when the two turned 20 and began to share a house together, but tragedy forced them apart. In the year 4787, a midsummer storm caused the village to have to evacuate, and Suki, inspired by Mana’s bravery, attempted to rescue a group of children trapped on the cliffs. However, a rockslide trapped her under the debris of the storm, and her back was permanently broken. Unable to walk, Suki was taken back in by her parents, and Mana’s subsequent grief and guilt over the accident caused their relationship to be revealed to all. Suki began to lose heart with the loss of both her profession and her relationship, until she could not even bear to see Mana in the waking world, guilty for causing her such pain. In death, she returned as a spirit to advise Rhys and speak to Mana, and waited patiently for her love to return. She found a kindred spirit in Lucy during her relationship with Sora in the Fire Timeline, and through these two, she and Mana reminisced over the past they had once shared together.

Minor Character: The entirety of Mana’s extended family (she never had children, but her cousins did) can be counted as a single minor character. Particularly important are her cousin Makotta (becoming the heir to the family business in her stead) and his wife Felide’s children: Kanako, Marko, Luca, Jessamy, and Erii. Kanako (b. 4776, d. 4863) grew particularly close to Mana, as she was to be the next heir to the family business, and was also her first student. She kept her “aunt’s” teachings close to heart and passed them on to her own children. After Mana’s death, she and her youngest sister, Erii (b. 4786, d. 4844) began a project to restore and preserve her writings for future generations to learn from. Kanako’s own strength as a leader inspired many, and she paved the way for women leaders just as Mana strove to do in her own life.

Minor Characters: I also thought up a group of five misfits during the Earth Shaman’s rule coming together and becoming friends. All are mentioned in passing during Mana’s accounts of the time, so they became official minor characters. At the center of the group are Thea (b. 4769, d. 4839), a girl who defied gender roles by becoming stronger and embracing a more masculine appearance, secretly troubled by guilt over the death of her only female friend, as well as her oldest friend Tobey (b. 4769, d. 4828), who, despite not having a head for learning, supported Thea as best he could and became a true leader. Their group grew with the addition of Cai (b. 4769, d. 4835), a direct descendant of the First Companion and a lifelong dreamer, and the boy he grew to love, Linden (b. 4770, d. 4835), the eldest son of the island’s richest merchant and the brains of the group. Inspired by Mana and Suki’s same-sex relationship, Cai and Linden found the courage to be together openly. Later, Linden’s younger brother Roan became Kanako’s spouse, and the two both supported Linden and Cai. Finally, the group became complete with the arrival of hotheaded, off-islander Zacharias (b. 4770, d. 4831), who was adopted by the temple and struggled to find his place in the village before falling for Thea, the girl he had initially clashed with. While the five friends never had children, they left behind stories that came to represent the everyday life of those during the Earth Shaman’s era.

(I initially had an even longer post than this on the Earth Timeline, but it got deleted, so bear with me here) Since there are so many characters (I love my minor characters so, so much), character designs will be coming! And since Mana’s written accounts = my longstanding WIP from her point of view, look out for lots of fun facts and small snippets as well!

#earth #lore #long post

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