#It’s nice and my kid is excited and I do pray the fairy dress she had last year still fits her a little bit because I can’t buy anything ne | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bansept · 4 years

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Family festival

A very big shout-out to @star-snail whose Ichihime fanart inspired this fanfic : it is a very beautiful piece that just radiates peace and love and fun to me, so I tried my best to convey this in a written way. I hope I do their work justice 🙃

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Japan is the land of festivals, Ichigo is pretty darn sure of that. He is far from complaining, especially because it allows all his family to reunite so that they can eat sweets, have fun, pray and just, be together.

For days, the house down the street of the Kurosaki clinic had been filled with excited chatters of both Orihime and Kazui, the little boy asking his mother about this and that story, his mother explaining with great details. The 5 year-old had looked at her like magic was pouring out of her mouth, which was probably the case, to him. Kazui had asked about many festivals, including the Tanabata one, which of course brought tears to his eyes.

"B-but why did they part away? Why aren't they together!"

He wasn't a fussy boy, very far from it. He was calm and collected, and obeyed all instructions, but when it involved anything bad, even remotely linked to his parents (a name in this case), he was crying.

So Ichigo had to assure him that no, mommy wouldn't go in the stars, no, they wouldn't be separated. Yes, he could have a big kiss from papa.

"Ichigo, come get Kazui please!" Orihime called out from their room, and her husband complied, leaving the kitchen to tickle his son, who was playing with a few toys near their sofa.

The boy laughed at the fingers on his sides, wriggling in his dad's arms. He shook his tiny legs to try to get him out of such a monstrous grip, but Ichigo had him in a hug in an instant, his son up in his arms as they climbed the stairs.

"Here is my prey... Where do I put him, Hime?" Ichigo chuckled in a fake deep voice, which pulled a squeal from his son, who extended his hands to his mom, hoping to get away from his horrible father.

"Oh, well how about you give this cute boy a bath before dressing him up? We'll be late..."

"We are supposed to meet the rest in an hour, Hime, don't worry."

Ichigo walked to his nervous wife and gave her a very gentle peck on the cheek, hoping to calm her down. Kazui turned his head to the side, suddenly interested in what was on the walls while Orihime blushed a little.

"... You're right. I'm just a bit nervous... I don't know why."

Ichigo gave Kazui a little kiss on the temple before placing him back on the floor, and rubbed his back.

"Kazui, can you go get ready for the bath? I'll be here in a second."

The boy, being the sweetheart he was, nodded simply and pitty patted to the washroom, leaving his parents in their room. Ichigo looked back to his wife and raised his hand to caress her cheek.

"Orihime? Are you okay?"

The young woman breathed out, going to hug Ichigo and burying her face in his neck. She melted in his touch when she felt Ichigo's arms wrap around her, drawing nonsense on the fabric of her kimono.

"I am, it's just... I'm reminded of... I don't know, everything. My parents, my brother... For the first ones, I still wish I had some knowledge of them. And Ni-Chan... He would have been happy to be with us."

Ichigo could only agree with her, only knowing one part of the way she felt. He wished his mother was here today too, to be with her husband and her children and now Kazui too. But it was impossible.

"They're not here physically. But the people we love are with us in spirit." Ichigo said simply, his strong arms tightening a little around Orihime, his face meeting with the top of her hair.

Orihime didn't answer, only hugging him more, letting her emotions calm down, the thrumming of her heart go back to normal. Those types of thoughts didn't come often, not because she was too happy to get them, simply because there was no reason to feel bad about the past. But tonight... Tonight felt different.

After a few minutes, Orihime gave Ichigo more of her sweet and enlightening smile, brushing a hand on his cheek to thank him before getting downstairs. Ichigo went back to his son, who was looking at his reflection and waiting patiently.

"Ah, sorry Kazui. Took more than one second. But now mommy is better and you can get washed!"

Ichigo started the bath and quickly but very carefully washed the boy, who giggled and tried to splash his dad with water multiple times, but was stopped with the promise of more treats if he was nice tonight. Wetting a kimono with soap-filled water? Big no no.

The boys got ready pretty fast, father making sure that son was comfortable in his kimono and waraji, not daring to try to tame his unruly hair. He really was like Ichigo in that department. The only way to make sure it wasn't all over the place was to cut them, even if another reason was more, hem, personal.

Totally not related to how Orihime all but loved to scratch the back of his head and it was easier done when the hair is short.

They got down the stairs, Kazui holding onto Ichigo's hand tightly to not fall, still not used to the straw shoes in his little feet. Orihime checked her reflection one last time before squatting to her son, giving him a big smooth on the forehead, praising Ichigo for dressing him so well.

Did the two blush profusely? Yes. One because he was a little boy and proud to make his mommy proud, and the other one because damn if his wife wasn't the most jaw dropping beautiful woman in existence.

A few knocks on the door wanted them of the arrival of the louder part of the family, as Ichigo jokingly called them. Isshin didn't really wait until anyone opened the door to burst it open, his laughter and happy face infectious.

"Ah! Where is my grandson! Oh, you look so good.. so cute my boy!" He sniffed, tears already streaming down his face as he kneeled down to hug Kazui. Yuzu almost did the same, but had some self restraint (thank goodness) and instead laughed with Orihime. Karin kept the door opened and saluted everyone calmly, without a word, but the smile on her face too obvious for her to pretend to be unhappy about the commotion.

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All of them, after a lot of tears, walked to the closest festival stalls, the night setting in and the lampions lighting up the streets, giving it a fairy tale like atmosphere. Kazui walked neatly next to his father, holding to his arm closely, but his eyes darted everywhere in wonder. This green light, that blue stall... Some people wore masks and some kids were chasing each other with tiny fireworks in their hands.

"Let's get some food! Yuzu insisted on not making any at home as to not waste the one here..."

The young girl nodded her head enthusiastically while her twin sister trotted to a Ikayaki stall, asking for one before watching the drama play out.

"Well yes, because otherwise you would have eat like normal but all your appetite would have been gone with us and you would have complained about your stomach!"

Yuzu lectured her father, and Orihime stood next to her to tap her shoulder and calm her down, otherwise it would turn into a quite loud conversation. Karin came back next to her twin and gave her a candy apple, placing it in her hand.

"Don't mind him. Let's enjoy the festival. Let him eat if he wants."

The sisters walked ahead, not really caring about their dad's wailing, Ichigo pushing Kazui between Orihime and him.

"Tsk, he always has to be dramatic about everything..."

"But it's funny papa! When grandpa cries he always makes funny faces! And then I hug him and poof! Gone!"

Orihime gave her son a very sweet kiss on the forehead, because who wouldn't melt at the boy's sweet heart and words.

"Hm, oh, Hime. Look there."

Ichigo pointed at a stall with a shooting contest, which confused the woman at first, before she clapped her hands excitedly.

"Oh, we've haven't done one in so long!" She giggled, jogging to the inviting booth with Kazui on her side. Ichigo smiled brightly, shaking his head. Who was the child?

"You go win her a prize, I'll look after Kazui." Isshin told him, surprisingly calm after one minute of crying. He raised an eyebrow at his dad who clapped his hands together before raising Kazui in the air.

"Kazui, you'll see if your papa is good with shooting targets. If he's not, then you'll be staying with me for a while week!"

So, that meant going to bed very late, eating candy, not doing any kind of work and losing a few braincells because of Isshin cooing at him and talking to him like a baby.

No way was he going to lose. Especially when Orihime was watching intently, her hands holding each other on her chest.

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Of course Ichigo won.

And got the biggest prize he could obtain, a grey teddy bear, proudly holding it for his wife. Orihime was filled with happiness, feeding him a chocolate banana from time to time.

The evening passed like that : between chatters, contests, street food and laughter, not a single Kurosaki wasn't smiling. The sisters stood close to Orihime, always hoping to spend more time with her, always hoping to find this reminder of Masaki in her. Ichigo walked by her side, listening to their chatters and keeping an eye on Kazui, who was getting sleepy.

"Papa?"

"Hm?"

"Who is that?"

Ichigo turned his face to look on his right, where Kazui had pointed at, but seeing no one. There was barely any civilian at the stalls around them, so it was safe to say Kazui definitely needed some well earned sleep. Ichigo crouched down to pick him up in his arms, patting his head gently.

"You're tired baby, were going home soon. You can sleep some if you want."

"But the lady..."

"Hm?"

Kazui couldn't say more, already closing his little arms and snoring softly. The day had been long, of course he was exhausted. Ichigo made sure he held him tight, the teddy in his other hand being a bit of a pain now. Orihime stopped to check on the little boy, her heart feeling like it turned goowee at the adorable sight.

"We should head back... Kazui needs to take some well deserved rest." Ichigo announced to his family, the two girls nodding in unison and Isshin hugging Orihime quickly before patting Ichigo on the shoulder.

"We had a great time, thank you, to the three of you." Orihime bowed and got her goodbyes back at her, Yuzu making one last joke with her before everyone returned to their homes.

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Once Kazui was changed and put to bed, Ichigo cracked his back bones and brushed his teeth sleepily, now in his sleeping t-shirt and shorts. Weird how before he could have his bed time at 3 in the morning without any problem, and now 11:30 was the maximum.

He heard Orihime sigh next door, in their room, and popped his head out of the bathroom door.

"Hm?"

She laughed at his cute appearance and his puppy look, the head tilted to the side. She waved her hand as if to say "later, later" and went back to changing. Ichigo frowned, the infamous gesture that he had forgotten along the years bringing back the usual anxiety he felt in his younger days.

He spit in the sink and washed up his hands before entering their room and pushing the door closed.

"Hime, what's wrong? Please tell me..." He asked, sitting on the bed to watch her take her hair down, unleashing it from the tight grip of her sofisticated bun. She sighed again, and Ichigo frowned again, before going to hug him, the force of it pushing Ichigo to lay on the bed with his wife in his arms.

"Hime..."

"Nothing is wrong, I promise." She cut him off, rolling to her side if the bed and staring at his eyes. She was not lying, she was alright but then why did she sigh? Why did she look so exhausted when they return back home?

Ichigo still nodded, reassured to a point, before leaning down to kiss her in the lips. She gladly accept the peck, placing her hands on his face in such a sweet and careful hold, Ichigo definitely wanted to kiss her more. But she pulled away again, still looking at him with this strange look, one that made her eyes glitter in excitement. Orihime took one of his hands, so strong, so callous from all those fights, to place it on her belly, warm tears filling her eyes.

"I'm pregnant."

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Oh I'm so bad for leaving this like that 😂 but then again, if you guys want the rest, you can always ask for it hehe

As I am not Japanese, I had to research for festivals and clothes and food, hopefully what I wrote made sense ;;

#bleach #ichihime #pro ichihime #ichihime headcanon #ichihime writing #ichihime fanfiction #papa ichigo #mama orihime #ichigo kurosaki #orihime kurosaki #kazui kurosaki #isshin kurosaki #karin kurosaki #yuzu kurosaki #do go check the artist's work it is very beautiful!

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camillemontespan · 5 years

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the history of us [drake x camille] [part three: 11th July- make it up to her]

Part Two if you want to catch up.

Warnings: NSFW. Feelings.

@jovialyouthmusic @pug-bitch @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @sirbeepsalot @moonlightgem7 @dcbbw @notoriouscs @emceesynonymroll @burnsoslow @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @sawyeroakleyscowboyhat @iplaydrake @drakewalkerisreal @moneyfordiamonds @cordoniasmost @gardeningourmet @katedrakeohd @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @rainbowsinthestorm @drakesensworld @ccolz88-blog

Drake sat on the sofa two hours after opening Camille’s diary. He felt numb; so numb. He hadn’t realised Camille kept a diary and documented everything so religiously. He was seeing himself from her eyes and the view was not pretty. Sure, they had had amazing moments the past four months, but a lot of it had been.. dark.

He was knocked out of his overthinking by Olive. The corgi nudged Drake’s leg, asking for attention. Olive adored Drake. Maybe it because he always fed her more dog treats than he should, or maybe it was because Olive just loved being around humans, but she always followed Drake everywhere.

Cheddar was more of Camille’s dog; Olive was Drake’s.

Drake picked her up and she settled down on his lap, licking his fingers. ‘I’ve fucked up, Olive,’ he whispered, stroking her ears. Olive looked up at him. He swore she had a sad look in her eyes.

‘Let’s watch some TV, huh?’ he suggested. He turned the TV on and as usual, it settled on the news. Drake swiftly turned it over to a chat show. It was a panel of women who were drinking cocktails and cackling.

Well, it was better than the news who always reported on Drake and Camille.

The women sipped their cocktails. ‘So,’ one of them said, ‘the Duke and Duchess of Valtoria. What do we think is going on there ladies?’

A brunette downed her drink and leaned forward. ‘If I speak candidly,’ she said loudly, ‘I think there’s been trouble in paradise for some time. Have you seen those paparazzi pictures whenever they’re out together? They look so withdrawn from each other. Bear in mind, only last year photos always showed them holding hands and smiling at each other. Now, it’s different.’

Drake smirked. What did this bitch know? Sometimes, photos were taken when they weren’t smiling - that was normal. Nobody was happy 24/7.

The blonde panel member spoke up. ‘I know what you mean. It’s like their chemistry is off. Then we have Camille attending royal events alone.’

‘That is the red flag right there,’ another of the witches piped up. ‘She gets all dressed up for these events, sometimes has Lily with her, but never Drake. They used to be inseparable.’

Drake had to turn it off. He couldn’t take any more of their theories and venom. They were discussing his private life on national TV over fucking cocktails. What show was this? He brought up the information screen.

‘Cocktails in Cordonia.’ What trash.

Drake sighed and glanced at Camille’s diary. He needed to read more, as she wanted. He didn’t know what she was hoping to achieve. Make him feel shit?Show him what a bad husband he was?

Camille wasn’t vindictive though. She wasn’t petty and she didn’t bear grudges. She had to have a reason.

He turned to the next page and prepared himself for another trip down memory lane.

11th July 2023

It’s the Summertime Ball tonight. Liam holds the ball every year and it’s become a highlight of the social calendar. I’ve got my gold dress all ready and I bought Lily a beautiful pink chiffon dress with silver stars embroidered on it. She looks like the sugarplum fairy in it and she twirled around the kitchen, asking Drake to tell her she looks pretty.

******************************************************************************************

‘Tell me I look pretty, Daddy!’ Lily cried, twirling around the kitchen. Her pink dress blew out around her and she looked so pleased with her outfit. Camille had arranged her dark hair into a ballerina bun and Lily had insisted on having her nails painted a glittery pink.

Drake picked her up and pressed a kiss on her forehead.

‘You are the prettiest girl in the world!’ he told her. Lily beamed and snuggled into his chest, a lazy smile on her face. To her, Drake was her world and that was all that mattered.

Camille was watching them, her eyes shining. This was all she had ever wanted. A family. Her own little family.

Drake placed Lily back down and he grinned at his wife. ‘You look incredible.’

Camille blushed. She was wearing a long gold halterneck dress made of silk. It skimmed her curves and showed off her caramel skin. Camille stepped forward and ran her hands down his chest. Drake was wearing a new suit; Camille loved it when he made an effort.

‘We should get going,’ she told him. ‘Cordonia society awaits!’

She took Lily’s hand and the two of them left the kitchen to the waiting car. As the door opened, Drake heard Geoffrey say, ‘Lily, you look like a fairy princess!’

Drake chuckled but his smile soon faded. Another Cordonian ball. Their first since they had come back from Texas. He knew they would be interrogated by the other nobles. How was Texas? Why were they away so long? How is Valtoria? Is Lily still eating McDonalds?

The thought filled him with dread.

He poured himself a double measure of whiskey and downed it. He needed liquid courage to get him through the evening.

**************************************************************************

Maxwell had descended on Lily as soon as he saw her. ‘You look so pretty!’ he shrieked, picking her up and twirling around. Lily laughed and stopped when she saw Maxwell’s bow tie. It was a squid. She reached out her hand and gently touched it, whispering, ‘wow...’

Bertrand came over to greet Camille and Drake. ‘Camille, you look stunning as always,’ he told her warmly. ‘How was Texas? I’m sorry you had to come back early.’

Camille smiled. ‘Texas was amazing. Just lazy days, lots of family time. We needed it, didn’t we Drake?’

Drake nodded. ‘Definitely. So good to get a break.’

Liam wandered over with Hana, Olivia and Leo in tow. The group were now reunited and Hana pulled Camille in for a hug, excited to see her best friend again.

Maxwell put Lily down and she skipped over to the group. She needed to see her Aunt Olivia. She adored the 5′11 redhead with high cheekbones, straight posture and icy blue eyes. The infatuation had began about a year ago when Lily had cast her eyes on the many ruby rings Olivia wore. Lily was a magpie and loved anything shiny; when Olivia let her wear a ruby ring that was far too big for her small fingers, Lily fell in love.

She fell hard for her Aunt Olivia after that. Olivia found it a little strange at first, not used to being adored, especially by children god forbid, but she soon began to enjoy it whenever Lily asked to see Olivia. It showed the child had taste.

‘Aunt Olivia, do you like my dress?’ she asked shyly. Olivia’s eyes ran over the dress. Drake prayed she would be kind; he knew pink was not Olivia’s favourite colour by a long stretch.

‘I think you look gorgeous, babe,’ Olivia said honestly. ‘I love the stars.’

Lily giggled. Because Olivia loved the dress, she wasn’t planning to take it off for the next week.

The live band began to play a jazz number. Lily looked up at Drake. ‘Daddy, dance with me.’

Camille nudged Drake, who picked up his daughter. ‘Come on, show me your best moves,’ he said, carrying her to the dance floor. He set her down and took her by her hands; his hands were gigantic around hers. Drake had to bend to dance with her, twirling her around.

This was the only time when Drake was really comfortable on the dancefloor. When he danced with Camille, he felt calm, knowing the steps, but he still felt a little out of place no matter how hard she tried to convince him that he was a good dancer. But when he was with Lily, he forgot about everyone around them. It was just him and his little girl, dancing together. They didn’t need to do the moves, why would they? She was four. Instead, he twirled her around, swung her up in the air so her dress flew out, making her a fairy in flight. There were no rules or etiquette needed for dancing with Lily. It was just fun. It was free.

Drake picked her up and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he bobbed around in a circle. Camille and Hana watched them together.

‘He’s such a good dad, isn’t he?’ Hana whispered.

Camille nodded, smiling. ‘He really is. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to us.’

***********************************************************************

‘So, Drake, how does it feel being back in Cordonia?’ Lord Stanley asked. Drake plastered an artificial smile on his face. ‘It feels good! It’s nice to get back to normality.’

The lie came out of his mouth so easily.

‘We heard that you’re thinking about sending Lily to a regular school?’ Lady Victoria probed. ‘That’s a different choice. Every other noble child has gone to boarding school.’

Drake fought back the urge to tell her to fuck herself. Instead, he cleared his throat. ‘Well, as myself and Camille were born commoners, we want Lily to have the same sort of childhoods that we had. We want her to make friends with kids who aren’t noble so she can see there’s other ways of living.’

‘Other ways of living..’ Victoria murmured, her eyes wide.

‘Surely though she will inherit the duchy of Valtoria?’ Stanley asked, struggling to keep up with Drake’s modern way of thinking. ‘If she doesn’t go to boarding school with other nobles, she won’t know how to support her people!’

Drake cast his eyes around the room, searching for Camille. He needed his team mate.

‘Well, Lily might not want to inherit the duchy,’ Drake said casually. ‘We want her to see the world, learn other cultures, just be grounded and more openminded.’

The two nobles were staring at Drake as if he had grown three heads.

‘Besides, we can teach her how to support the duchy if needed,’ Drake went on. He was trying to justify his parenting decisions to these people and he had no idea why. What he and Camille chose to do for their daughter wasn’t their business.

‘But it could be good for her to meet other noble children?’ Victoria suggested. Drake ignored her and his eyes found Camille’s.

Camille excused herself from talking to Liam and she came over to help Drake.

‘Ah, Lord Stanley, Lady Victoria! How good to see you both again,’ Camille said.

The lie came out of her mouth so easily.

‘Duchess Camille, you look glowing!’ Victoria said, taking her by the hands. ‘What’s your secret?’

‘Creme de la Mer,’ Camille deadpanned. Victoria blinked.

‘Uh, so Drake was just telling us that next year, you might be sending Lily to a regular school?’ Stanley said.

‘Not might,’ Drake corrected him. ‘We will be.’

Camille looked at Drake and his eyes bore into hers. She knew without speaking that he been getting interrogated. She took Drake’s hand and placed her hand on his chest.

‘Yes, we’re so excited for Lily to go to a school with normal kids. More relaxed, she can meet all kinds of people and think for herself!’

Victoria frowned. ‘Are you saying our children can’t think for themselves?’

‘Welllll..’ Camille shrugged. ‘Anyway, so lovely to see you again. We need to circulate, there’s so many people we haven’t spoken to yet.’ She dragged Drake away.

‘Jesus, they’re horrible,’ she muttered under her breath. Drake smirked. ‘Glad you think so. Who honestly gives a shit about what we do? It’s our life.’

Camille bit her lip. ‘I think because we’re already so different from them, they want to see how we run things. Clearly, sending Lily to boarding school was an expectation that we have yet again not met.’

‘We’re not sending her away,’ Drake ground out. Camille looked up at him and gave his hand a squeeze. They both looked out at the dance floor to see Lily dancing with her Uncle Leo and Uncle Maxwell, who were showing her how to do the robot.

‘I promise that’s not going to happen. She’s ours.’

She kissed him gently. ‘I’m going to continue my conversation with Liam. Want to join?��

‘In a moment,’ he told her. ‘You go ahead.’

She left him to it. Drake went to the bar and ordered a glass of whiskey, double measure. He sank the drink then gestured to the bartender for another.

He studied the nobles around him. Aside from his friends, he hated everyone in the room. The way they spoke to him and Camille so patronisingly grated. They always looked like they felt sorry for them. Like Drake and Camille knew nothing. Like they were going to destroy Valtoria with their inexperience, despite the fact that they had been Duke and Duchess for four years.

Fuck them.

Drake sipped more of his whiskey and watched his wife burst out laughing at something Liam said. She looked at home here. She was certainly more regal than Drake. He sometimes worried he held her back, but he never told her that. He knew she would get upset if she knew the thoughts that went through his mind.

But he knew she hated the nobles too. They would bitch about them while having drinks on their balcony. Camille was just better at hiding it.

Drake signalled for another drink.

**********************************************************************************

They got home around midnight. Lily had fallen asleep on Drake’s lap when they had been sat at the table in the ballroom, which called for them to head home. Once Camille set her down in bed, she kissed her forehead and left the bedroom door slightly ajar; Lily was scared of the dark and felt better when she could see the hallway light.

Drake’s head was spinning. Usually, he was a heavy weight but with each drink he had drank tonight, he had asked for double measures. Silly idea.

He fell back onto the bed, still dressed in his suit, and looked up at the spinning ceiling. He heard Camille enter the bedroom and shut the door.

‘You okay there, champ?’ she joked. She hadn’t realised how much Drake had drank, instead thinking he had just drank whiskey on an empty stomach and that was why he was conked out on the bed.

She got on her knees and crawled towards him, suspending her body over his. He smelled of whiskey. Drake looked into her eyes and reached out to twirl a lock of her hair around his finger.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he whispered.

Camille smiled. ‘You’re drunk.’

‘Yeah. You’re still beautiful though.’

Camille leaned down to kiss his neck, enjoying the groan that escaped his lips. She began to peel off his suit jacket and unbutton his shirt, exposing his broad chest. She loved how broad he was; how manly he was.

Kissing down his chest, she stopped when she heard him snore.

Oh well. He would just have to make it up to her tomorrow.

******************************************************************************************

Drake did make it up to her the next morning. He had a memory that she had tried to make a move on him last night but he had been so drunk, he’d fallen asleep. His face flamed red when he remembered this.

Her alarm had gone off and she slipped into the bathroom to shower. Drake followed. His head may have been aching but he wanted to make it up to her.

Drake knocked on the shower door. Camille turned to open the door and she looked out at him, her hair slicked back from the water. Drake’s eyes roamed her naked body hungrily.

‘You coming in?’ she asked, looking up at him from under her eyelashes. Drake gave her a wolfish grin and stripped off his clothes. He let himself into the shower.

His hands slid down her wet body, slick from the water and shining. He kissed her neck and moved down to tease her nipple with his tongue. Camille gasped and closed her eyes, focusing on the sensations.

Drake gently pushed her up against the wall and lifted her by the ass. She wound her legs around his waist, crying out when she felt his cock enter her. He wasn’t taking his time; he wanted to make it up to her.

‘Fuck Drake..’ she breathed, digging her fingernails into his back. Drake began to drive into her, keeping her body supported as he did so. His hips bucked against hers, grinding into her deeply, not wanting to stop. Drake wanted to make it up to her.

As he bucked against her, he placed his finger on her clit and began to circle. She let out a groan as he teased her, feeling her core begin to come alive. Their bodies moved together, desperately now, as Drake began to increase the pace. He was relentless. He wanted to make it up to her.

Their mouths found each other and their tongues twisted, dancing. Drake could feel Camille’s fingernails digging into his back, probably scratching his skin but he didn’t care.

He could smell the coconut shampoo she used and he inhaled her scent. She was his own personal paradise.

‘Drake, I’m gonna cum,’ she breathed. Drake continued to drive into her, keeping up momentum.

‘Cum for me,’ he growled in her ear.

She let go, crashing over the wave. Her body jerked against his and she wrapped her legs around him tighter. Drake followed after, crying out her name into the crook of her shoulder.

‘I love you,’ she whispered. Drake kissed her neck, then her cheek, then her lips.

‘I love you too.’

*******************************************************************************************

Drake stopped reading the diary entry. Camille hadn’t written about the shower sex but she had written about the ball and about the stuffy nobles.

They’re so judgemental, I’m sick of it. But I can’t say anything to them otherwise I’d cause a riot, so instead I plaster a fake smile on my face and act like Duchess Camille. Who even is Duchess Camille? She’s not me. She’s elegant and knows etiquette and how to smile. She can curtsey and knows how to use the correct cutlery at dinner. Her fake laugh is fantastic, it sounds so genuine. But she’s not really me. She is a part I play.

Sometimes I wish I could just be normal Camille. The one who wears denim shorts and oversized sweaters. I’d love to go to a football game with Drake and eat hotdogs and not have to worry about anyone bothering us. I’d love to take Lily out to the park without needing a bodyguard.

But we signed up for this life when we became Duke and Duchess. It was always going to be hard. I just want us to try and be as normal as possible and that includes sending Lily to a normal school. I’m so happy Drake and I share the same values; we’re a good team. As long as we have each other, it’s going to be alright.

Drake swallowed a sob. His breath became haggered and his head began to swim again. His vision began to blur and that was when he realised he was crying.

Drake had only cried three times in his life.

When he was told his father was dead.

When he saw Camille walking up the aisle towards him on their wedding day.

When he held Lily in his arms for the first time.

This was the fourth time in his life Drake cried. How could he have fucked up something so good? Something that made him happy? How could he have pushed away the one person who truly saw him for who he was?

Drake wiped his eyes roughly and looked through the box again. He came across a photo of him, Camille and Lily playing rock paper scissors while sat at a table during one of the palace balls. His memory flashed back and he remembered that Maxwell had taken the photo of the family.

They looked carefree. They didn’t care what people thought of them.

Drake sniffled and put the photo down, picking up the diary again. He needed to keep reading. It was what Camille wanted him to do and he was sick of letting her down.

He turned the page.

#drake walker #trr fanfic #the royal romance

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frankieabii · 5 years

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|| Dear No One || Ch. 1

Summary: Bay St.James was perfectly happy crushing on guys from afar and writing love letters that she never dreamed she’d send. So what happens when the letters she prayed no one ever saw, suddenly got sent out to their intended recipients? Especially when one of those happens to be Bay’s sister’s boyfriend!

Pairing: Jungkook x OC, Yoongi x OC, Jimin x OC, Taehyung x OC, Hoseok x OC, Namjoon x OC, Jin x OC

Genre: Fluff, Romance, To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before!au, High School!au, Fake Dating!au, Friends To Lovers!au

Word Count: 1595

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: Holy crap my friends I am so freaking excited to post this story! I’m a HUGE ASS fan of TATBILB and I just HAD TO put it into a series. thanks to @chan-yolo for being so supportive of me writing this and reading everything for me lmao. CHAPTER 1 IS HERE!

For as long as I can remember, I have liked to save things, never anything important or relevant like the planet or an endangered species, hell, or even a cat stuck in a tree! It was always small things, charms, trinkets; like those small ugly porcelain figures you can find in thrift shops. Hair scrunchies by the bucket load. Love letters. Out of everything I have ever saved, my love letters are the things that mean the most to me.

The letters are kept hidden in a lilac box, topped with a silk rose that my mom got me when I was a child, from an old store in our town that no longer exists. They aren’t love letters, romantic notions, that someone else has written to me; I don’t get those. No, these are ones that I have written myself, and there's one for every boy I have ever loved - seven in total.

The first was Jungkook, when I was seven years old. Jungkook Jeon was the son of one of my mom's friends, a couple of years younger than myself but cuter than a bunny in spring. Floppy dark hair that always fell into in big brown eyes, and a little smile that resembled that of a bunny rabbit, tiny, sweet and blushing. I remember him coming over for playdates with myself and my sisters, which always ended up with us picking the games, overruling all ideas that Jungkook had had, insisting that we play house, dress up or have a tea party. I cringe at the thought now, how mean it was to force this five-year-old boy into tiaras and fairy wings, to be the dad when we played house. It went along for a year, until his dad got a job overseas and they moved away. I wrote the letter the day I found out he moved.

Next was Yoongi Min, a boy a year older than my nine-year-old self. He wasn't much taller than me but had warm brown eyes and a small smile when he was shy and a big gummy smile that could light up a room when he was laughing. Our dads worked together at the time, and his dad held a Christmas party for several of his work colleagues and their families, and my family was invited. It was a nice party, fancy food and glittering decorations that hung from the ceiling, and I enjoyed it until my nine-year-old self was unknowingly stood under mistletoe next to Yoongi. His mom insisted that he kiss me, as I was stood frozen in fear, he pressed a quick kiss to my cheek and then ran away very promptly, not before giving me one of his precious gummy smiles. I wrote Yoongi’s letter on New Year's Eve, and my dad got a new job a week later.

When I was eleven years old, there was Jimin Park, angelic face and innocent eyes that turned moon-shaped when he smiled or laughed. My mom had signed me up to dance lessons, and Jimin was assigned to be my partner. He moved so gracefully and elegantly, whilst I stomped around like an elephant in an awful mood. He was always so eager to help me perfect the dances and the movements, always patient when I struggled and enthusiastic when I got it right. Then, for Jimin, puberty hit like a bat out of hell and suddenly every girl wanted to be his dance partner, and I was cast aside like yesterdays news. Jimin’s letter was written in anger, that day after I got home, and refused a dance lesson ever again.

I fell in love with Taehyung Kim when I was thirteen years old at Evergreen Summer Camp. Taehyung had long dark hair that fell onto his eyes when he laughed, and a boxy smile that made him charmingly adorable. He was smart and funny, and was always causing mischief around the camp that my mom had insisted on sending me to, as my older sister Ivy had gone a few years prior and wanted to make it a tradition amongst my sisters and I. I followed him around like a lost puppy and clung onto his every word like a spider monkey, until he pushed me into the lake and laughed at me with his friends. I wrote his letter in my bunk, my hair matted with salt lake water.

Hoseok Jung was my first ever date. When his sunshine bright smile had asked me to a school dance when I was fourteen years old, I couldn’t say no. Hoseok had gotten me a flower to pin into my hair, that matched the one pinned onto the pocket of his shirt. We had laughed, and danced all night; myself horrifically and he danced with rhythm and excitement in every move. He kept dragging me out onto the dancefloor, even when I had protested that my feet were about to fall off, he spun me around the dancefloor like we were the only two in the room. He made my heart spin around the dancefloor too, so I wrote him a letter.

At 16 years old I fell in love with Namjoon Kim. With his blonde hair cut into a fashionable style; longer on top, with an undercut on the side, his black-framed glasses, the adorable dimples that graced his cheeks whenever he laughed or smiled, and his ability to recite a Friends quote for every occasion. Namjoon was smart, and somewhat popular, not through sports, mostly by association with the ‘in-crowd’, but still much more popular than myself and the friends I could count on one hand. It was about halfway through the school year when we were all invited to a party at one of the popular kid's houses, with smuggled alcohol and kids dancing on each other in every corner. Not exactly my scene, but coerced into going by my sister Ivy, and we somehow managed to get roped into playing a game of Spin The Bottle. And Namjoon was sat in the circle, his smile slightly hazy from alcohol he had consumed, but his eyes still bright and aware of what he was doing. So we took it turns to play, each of spinning the empty beer bottle, kissing whoever it landed on. The boys all whooped and hollered whenever someone kissed, and I buried myself further and further into my jumper, thankful that the bottle missed me each time. Until it was Namjoon's turn, that was. The bottle spun round and round, over and over until it achingly came to a stop and my feet, a blush rising to my cheeks in an instant, Ivy’s eyes widening in surprise. And so, playing by the rules, he kissed me. I wrote Namjoons letter a week later, after some several daydreams about that kiss.

And finally, number seven. Seokjin Kim. Jin. Jin is the year above me at school, and the year below Ivy, and moved into the house next door to us about four years ago. He and I became friends instantly, sharing the same taste in music and movies, and playing weird questions games for hours. I never really realized I had loved him until Jin and Ivy started dating about a year and a half ago. And then I wrote his letter.

When I write the letters, I don't hold back. I write about all the things I love, that annoy me, that makes me weak at the knees. Everything I think and feel goes into the letters, every secret thought, every careful glance of observation. Nothing is left out, as I write like he’ll never read the letter because he never will. And then when I’m done, the letter is sealed forevermore in an envelope, addressed, and then stored away in the lilac box.

But my letters aren’t love letters by definition. I write the love letters when I want the crush to be over. Done with. They’re goodbye to the feelings and thoughts that the crush gave to me. After I’ve written the letter, I feel a weight off of my heart and my shoulders, and I’m now longer weighed down by all-consuming love. I can go about my day like normal, I can watch a movie and eat popcorn and not wonder which sodas he likes to drink with his popcorn; apple tango for me, or if he’s more of a sprite kind of guy. I can sing along to songs on the radio and not be belting out my heart for him. My letters are my freedom, they set me free from my crush. Or at least I thought they would.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x oc #bts series #namjoon x oc #rm x oc #jin x oc #seokjin x oc #hoseok x oc #jhope x oc #jungkook x oc #jimin x oc #yoongi x oc #suga x oc #v x oc #taehyung x oc

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eleart2019 · 5 years

Text

HORROR IN WHITBY

Ron was in the living room, feet up on a small table, a cup of tea in one hand and

watching some programme on TV. Jake entered, made eye contact with Ron and

revived their earlier conversation.

“So, you’re saying she hasn’t slept a single minute,” Jake mumbled as he dropped

onto the sofa. It was good to be in the warm again, out of the November wintry chill.

“Yep,” Ron said, “and I wish that was the only thing.” He subconsciously clutched his

hands in a reassuring gesture. He paused, sipped his tea and then went on, somehow

cautiously, as if talking to himself rather than to Jake. “She just sits there, smiling, as

if she’s happy or something. She didn’t stop talking a minute either when I was there.

She managed to break free from the rope and the handcuffs, but she didn’t even try to run away.”

Jake didn’t answer, but while pretending to watch TV he was listening attentively,

more to gather what Ron’s emotional state was rather than in fear of any real danger.

“I don’t know, Jake, there’s something really weird about that girl.” He paused. “I

don’t even know how to explain it. It’s probably nothing, but she does give me the

creeps. She speaks like a girl her age should, and on some level she behaves like a

child her age…yet at the same time you get the feeling she’s much older, somehow.”

“Typical Ron,” Jake thought. “Oversensitive.” Jake felt like laughing at his friend,

but knew better than that. Ron was reliable and trustworthy—as criminals go, that

is—a good partner, but could sometimes see too much into things.

“Um,” Jake said. If the child wasn’t problematic, stayed put and all, and the ransom

came quickly…they could be on their way to a really nice place…soon. Yet, he had

never seen Ron so agitated. He could read the signs that the other man was

desperately trying to disguise; the tension on his face, the stillness, his eyes avoiding

crossing Jake’s…but things had gone very well so far. Kidnapping the girl had been

easy peasy—no one had even followed them. Incredibly, neither the police nor the

newspapers had been alerted. And the family was going to pay the ransom.

“You don’t know what I mean,” Ron muttered under his breath, sensing the other’s

scepticism.

Jake sighed. “All right,” he said, “let’s go and see this girl. For god’s sake, Ron,

surely she’s just a nine year old child? Stay calm, rational. Just think of the money.

You are overreacting.”

Nonetheless they climbed up the stairs of the big Victorian villa, perfectly located in a

secluded spot in a Whitby village—no one would ever suspect it as a place to keep a

kidnapped child.

Little Moira’s quarters were in the attic—a spacious cosy refurbished space, all wood

and carpets with a nice comfortable bed in the corner. There was also a TV, some

books, magazines, a mirror, and various clothes for her to wear.

The two men opened the door, carefully—actually it was Ron who opened it, as he

had the key. Moira was standing in the middle of the room. She had combed her hair

and was wearing a black ribbon on one side. Her clothes were a reminder of a bygone

time; her dress a simple grey velvet thing, in the style little girls wear at weddings.

Her feet looked tiny in a pair of simple (but expensive) black shoes. She was, if there

were such a thing, the picture of innocence.

“Oh, good evening, Ron. Hi, Jake” she chirped, and curtseyed.

Jake heard what she said and turned towards Ron, glaring furiously. “How does she

know my name?” he hissed. “And yours? I thought I said no names, you idiot!”

“I didn’t tell her our names!” Ron said defensively as he wrung his hands together.

“You see what I mean—she gives me the creeps; it’s stuff like that she says.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, he didn’t. Bloody idiot, jeopardising things like that.” It occurred to

Jake that they might have to kill the girl now.

The child seemed to read their surprise and smiled, sweetly, not fazed by their

argumentative tones. “I heard you speak from the kitchen yesterday, and the day

before,” she said. “You said his name too, Jake, so it’s not only his fault.”

Now Jake began to feel a bit flustered. How could she have heard them talking all the

way up here in the attic? He examined the girl more closely.

The child looked a bit older than her 9 years; she could have been 11-12, and she was

tall for her age. Her face was like one of a china doll; of a beauty so pure it was

almost surreal. Her long, dark blond hair fell on her shoulders; her clear blue eyes

sparkled at the sight of her two captors, as if she had seen Santa bring her Christmas

presents.

“Now do you see what I mean?” Ron said and looked at Jake, who quickly inspected

the room, but found in fact nothing out of the ordinary.

Jake didn’t say a word. He took the key from Ron and locked the door as a

precaution. Now that she knew their names, the last thing they needed was for her to

escape.

The child smiled at them and Ron shivered. He thought he could see…what was

wrong with her teeth? What had she done to herself? He didn’t share this information

with Jake.

“Have you brought me some food?” Moira asked kindly. “Mummy says I have to eat

everyday…at least once a day…or I become very naughty. It’s not good for me to

miss my meal, mummy says”

Ron shivered, again. He had had enough of her talk today. It wasn’t actually what she

said that sent a chill down his spine, it was how she said it…it was like being in a

horror fairy tale or something. There was in her voice and being something he could

not decipher—no hint of fear whatsoever or of being upset in any sort of way was

given away from her demeanour or expression. That was from a kid, nine years of

age, who hadn’t slept for two nights and was away from home, captive in a room in

the middle of nowhere. And she kept asking for her dinner, but no matter how much

food he gave her, she left it untouched.

“But I don’t like that,” had been her reply when Ron asked her why she didn’t eat

anything.

Now she staged a little childish dance around the room and came nearer to her

captors, her mouth now semi-closed in a way that her teeth were not fully visible

anymore, although a faint smile was on her face.

Both men stood there, Ron very weary, Jake taken by sudden curiosity and a hint of

recognition. He was beginning to see why Ron was so freaked out…this girl was a

bloody freak.

She eyed the two men with curiosity, the same way she would probably eye a pet; a

frog, a cat…or a juicy piece of cake? Ron had the distinct impression that Moira had

been looking at his neck all day long. Obviously he hadn’t said that to Jake either,

courtesy of the fact that he didn’t want to be taken for totally mad.

“So, can we eat now?” she asked. She seemed excited, clapped her hands and twirled

around as if in a different place or world. She didn’t seem to grasp at all the gravity of

her situation and the danger she was in.

“You see what I mean?” repeated Ron, underlying every single word.

Jake was annoyed, and while he wouldn’t admit to it he felt, yes, there was something

very wrong about this child. He couldn’t exactly pin point what, as she was only a

child, but this little girl did give him the creeps. He was going to arrange for the

money pickup as soon as possible.

Never too soon.

“I am HUNGRY!” yelled the child, this time a tone of demand in her voice.

Jake snarled at her. “It’s not dinner time, yet. You’ll have to wait, ok?” he said

unkindly. “We’ll bring dinner later…besides, how did you free yourself from the rope

and handcuffs? Don’t do anything like that again…or you’ll be sorry.” He

pronounced the last words in a slow, threatening voice, looked Moira straight in the

eye, and turned as if ready to hit her. It was time to show this little brat who was boss;

he for one wasn’t going to be bossed around by any little girl.

“I WANT MY DINNER!” Moira growled, an inhuman, beastly growl that took the

two of them truly aback. And while taken from rage, for being denied her dinner, her

little sweet face muted into a deformed mask; half human half animal, with the

horrible fangs and pointed teeth now fully visible. Another horrific growl filled the

air, much worse than the one she had produced before.

The two men, now both terrified, ran for the door, desperately trying to unlock it. Too

little, too late—the predator was about to become the pray, or maybe unknowingly, it

had been so all the way along.

Moira reached the door in an impossibly fast movement and barred it with her tiny

body. The men didn’t dare go near her, and ran instead for the window.

There was, however, another figure standing erect on the inside window ledge--a

woman. She was stunningly beautiful. Her hair and eyes were dark, but apart from

that her features were very similar to the human Moira, unrecognisable now in that

beastly mask.

“Moira…! You are being naughty again” the woman said, sarcasm recognizable in

her voice.

With that, Moira took her on human features again, and her sweet little face appeared

again. She smiled at the sight of her mother. “Sorry mummy…the men didn’t feed

me! I am very, very hungry” and as if reading the men’s thoughts, which she probably

was, she added, politely: “Mummy always knows where I am. She follows my scent”

Ron and Jake were petrified where they stood next to each other between the door,

Moira, and at the window. Was that the mother then? That was the voice…Shit. What

were these…people? But were they people? There was, effectively, no way out.

Maybe they could try to take the brat, but she was if possible even scarier in a

grotesque mixture of childish innocence and beastly ferocity.

“Oh, pet…my poor pet,” the mother said. “Of course. Well…they did try to kidnap

you after all…they did. I’ll have the fat one and you’ll have the other…this should be

enough for both of us”

The woman smiled and two long pointed fangs were clearly visible within her

crimson mouth. Her smile was a joyless grin, the predator ready to spring…she was

already savouring dinner.

Another terrible growl, this time coming from the woman…both she and her daughter

dived onto the two terrified men, who were now staring into death’s eyes, personified

by the two horrific beastly masks

The woman went for their necks and broke them, and then mother and daughter fed

on blood, hungrily, until no drop was left. Little Moira, having not completely

grasped proper table manners, also savaged the body beyond recognition—blood and

gore were everywhere.

But, of course, no one heard the terrible screams of the men; the house was so

conveniently located after all…

#vampire #horror writing #excerpt from a book i'll never write #writeblr #writeblogging

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sarahjane0886 · 7 years

Text

Begin Again 12

Chapter 12

"Are you sure you're okay keeping Mav?" Sharna asked as she worked on curling her hair.

"Babe, yes, stop asking me that. He'll be fine. Maks is gonna come over and we're going to do we're going to take them to the park, then dinner and ice cream. He got a new movie. He'll help with bedtime and then once they are asleep, we'll tuck them in. Mav has the mattress in Lottie's room. And if anything happens we'll call you guys. Stop worrying, it's going to be okay."

"I know, I just....I want this to go good."

"And it will. You guys need this. It's going to be good. I promise." Peta said reaching forward and squeezing Sharna's hand.

"I hope, does this look alright?" Sharna said as she finally finished her hair. She turned to look at Peta for approval. Her and Noah were going on their first official date that evening and after, they were going to go back to his house for the night. Peta had said she'd keep Maverick for Noah so he and Sharna could focus on them and do whatever they wanted.

"Gorgeous, Noah is going to love it. Are you still wearing the black dress you picked out?" Peta asked. They had a girls day yesterday and went shopping and primping. It was one of the first times they took Lottie out to do it and she had loved it. Sharna had found a black dress that came to her knees and had a sheer lace overlay over the top. The lace was detailed beautifully. It was fitted through the body while the bottom flared out just slightly. She also had a white and gray one but Peta had picked the black one from the beginning.

"I think so. I gotta do my makeup and throw my bag together and then I'll decide for sure."

"Alright, you want me to stay or you want quiet time?" Peta asked. She knew that sometimes she wanted distraction and sometimes she needed to think.

"No, stay. I just. Yeah, stay. I'm almost done. He should be here in 20 right?" Sharna asked. Noah was picking her up around 4 since he wanted to take her to dinner a little ways out of town and have some fun before they returned to the house for some them time.

"Yeah, in about 20. What are you taking for pajamas?" Peta said with a wink.

"Both?"

"Good thinking, although I'll bet you don't need anything other than that dress."

"P!"

"What, he's an attractive man. You're an attractive lady. That dress is smoking. Enjoy yourself. Have some fun."

"Oh my god, I should have sent you downstairs." Sharna said as her cheeks turned as red as her hair.

"I'm just teasing you. Here, give me your bag, go get dressed." Peta said taking the pile of stuff Sharna already had stacked on the bed. Sharna threw her the bag she was going to use which was actually Peta's and took the dress and headed into the bathroom. Peta packed while Sharna dressed.

"Well?" Sharna said finally appearing in the doorway. Peta turned around and her eyes got wide. "I mean I can wear the other one."

"No, no, no. Babe, you look stunning. Oh my goodness. The dress looked good in the store, but this, with your hair and your shoes. Babe, Noah is going to melt."

"Honestly, you think it's that good? Do you think I need a necklace?" Sharna said checking herself in the mirror. She was suddenly feeling very shy and indecisive. Two things she wasn't used to feeling.

"Babe, what's wrong?" Peta said looking at her best friend. There was something going on in her head and she could see it.

"I don't know, I just, I'm nervous. I want this to be perfect P. I've never been nervous like this before. It's not an oh my god, this might fall to pieces nervous, it's more of a giddy, excited, want this to work perfectly nervous." Sharna said as her hands started to fidget.

"Whoa babe. First breath. Second, i get it. It's actually how I felt when I first started dating Ollie. Everything was heightened. It'll settle. I promise. When you close your eyes, think about what you want out of this. I promise, it'll come to you." Peta said as she held Sharna's hands tightly in her own and squeezed. Sharna's eyes closed and she breathed deep a few times. She concentrated on what she wanted out of tonight and knew that Peta was right. It was different and that's why she was scared. It wasn't cause of Noah, it was becasue it was real.

"Better?" Peta asked after a few minutes.

"Yeah, thanks P."

"Anytime. Now the necklace. I think it could do either way, but it would be a nice touch. I have that kinda tight gold chain so it wouldn't lay on the lace, how about that?"

"Let's try it." Sharna said as she followed Peta to her room. She found the necklace quickly and hooked it on for her friend.

"I like it." Peta said moving so Sharna could see in the mirror.

"Me too." She said as the doorbell rang. Her eyes widened, making Peta laugh.

"Come on babe, let's go get your guy." Sharna nodded and followed Peta down the steps, Maks was working on letting Noah in while he held a giggling Lottie upside down.

"Hey man, the girls are, right here." He said as his eyes widened at Sharna's dress. Even he had to admit that she looked stunning.

"Hey, Shar, honey, you look beautiful." He stammered.

"Flowers." Maverick said as he interrupted the adults and made his way over to Sharna. He held a tiny boquet of daisies for his favorite lady.

"Aww, buddy, are these for me?"

"For my Sha-na." He said with a shy grin. Sharna accepted them and then scooped Maverick up to give him some hugs and kisses.

"Thank you Mav. I love them."

"Ahem, well hopefully that means you'll love these too." Noah said as he moved to his son and Sharna. He held out a much larger boquet of flowers this time. It included roses, lilies, daisies.

"Noah." She said breathlessly at first. She smiled and went to take them but Maverick was glued to her.

"I can hold them." He said however he leaned close enough to put a simple kiss to her lips. "You do look stunning."

"Thank you." She said smiling happily.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

"Yup. I am. Peta has my bag."

"Here Noah, I'll swap." Peta said taking the flowers from him as well as what she assumed was Maverick's bag while handing him Sharna's. She took Sharna's flowers from Maverick too.

"Alright buddy, are you going to be good for Miss Peta and Uncle Maks?" Noah asked. Maverick however had other ideas.

"No, no weave Sha-na." He said as he wrapped his arms around her neck tightly. Sharna bit her lip. She had been worried about this.

"Buddy, we are going to be back in the morning and remember tomorrow you, are coming with me and daddy for the whole day?" Sharna said as she rubbed his back gently. She swayed slowly.

"But I miss you." He said into her neck.

"I'll miss you too little man but how about when it's bedtime, Uncle Maks or Miss Peta calls us and we can tell you goodnight?"

"Pwomise?" He said almost so softly that she nearly missed it.

"I promise. Pinky." She said holding up her pinky for him and letting him link his with hers. He buried back into her neck for a minute as she cuddled him as well. Then she kissed his cheek before handing him over to Noah. Noah said goodbye to him as well, including the same promises that Sharna had along with a pinky promise as well. Then the two were off leaving, the kids and Maks and Peta alone.

"Okay, whose's ready for our adventure?" Peta asked as she saw Maverick's lip trembling.

"Venture?" He asked curious as Lottie held tight to her hand.

"Yup, we're going to go to a new park and play and have dinner." Maks said.

"It even has a pirate ship!" Peta added.

"Like Tink ship?" Lottie asked immediately. She had seen Peter Pan a few times however was slightly more enthralled with the sassy fairy than she was with the boys.

"Exactly. Just like Tinkerbell's ship."

"Tay, Mav we pay?" Lottie asked holding her hand out to her buddy. He still clung to Maks however still a bit upset that his dad and Sharna had honestly left him.

"It's okay buddy. We're actually going to drive to the park. So we have to go get in the car. And I think Uncle Maks said we might get ice cream later." Peta said as she scooped up Lottie. She caught the little boy's eyes light up as he looked at his uncle. Maks nodded making Maverick smile.

"We have everything already right?" Maks asked Peta. They had attempted to get everything ready earlier in the day figuring that they may need a quick distraction for Maverick once his two favorite adults left.

"Yup, do you two need to go potty?" Peta said looking at her daughter knowingly. It never failed that as soon as they put her in the car, she'd need to use the bathroom.

"Uh huh." Maverick said as he rested on Maks. He was much calmer now however you could tell that he still wasn't too keen on the situation.

"Alright. That's okay. Little miss you need to go try though." Peta said taking her and headed towards the bathroom. Once she returned they got the kids settled in the car and headed out to the playground. It was about 20 minutes away and they let the kids pick the music which consisted mainly of songs from the latest Disney movies. Once they got there, they got the kids out.

"Whoa, this is much bigger than I remembered. There only used to be the pirate ship thing." Maks said as he helped Peta get both kids out of the car. There were 3 play sets at the park, one of them being the pirate ship set up. The other one was regular while the last one was set up like a castle with the slides coming out of the turrets.

"It is huge. Okay you two, you have to stay with us." Peta said slightly nervous at the space and number of families there.

"Right. you can't run off. We'll make sure you play with everything. You guys can take turns picking." Maks said looking at Peta. He could see her anxiety on her face and knew he was going to need to assist in keeping the kids together.

"What do you two want to do first?" Peta asked praying that they'd say the same thing.

"Ship!!" They both said pointing and she breathed a sigh of relief. They headed toward the ship. Maks stole the backpack from her that had a few water bottles and snacks just incase as well as other things. She tried to keep it but he waved her off easily as he slipped it on. They spent the next hour and a half letting the kids take turns picking activities. Finally it was dinner time.

"More wings!" Lottie fussed as they put the kids in the car.

"We'll come back miss. We'll bring Aunt Sharna and Mr. Noah okay?" Maks said as he buckled her in, making sure that her straps were tight before moving to Maverick.

"Noo." She said as she started to cry. Maverick looked at her and held his hand out to her but she wouldn't take it.

"It's okay buddy. That was sweet of you though. She's just a little sad." Maks explained at the hurt look on Maverick's face.

"Kay." He said softly, grinning as Maks tickled him lightly.

"She's hungry. I think. Or I hope." Peta said as she looked at her daughter who was still sobbing quietly as she reached for the park.

"Me too. We still doing the chicken place for dinner?" Maks asked as he started towards what they had already agreed on.

"Yeah, they both like the chicken so that's easy. And there's that ice cream place beside it."

"Aksssss. Need you." Lottie whimpered from the backseat.

"In a minute sugar. We're almost there." Maks said as he finally caught her eye in the rearview. Peta watched the exchange with a twinge of guilt but relief at the same time. She checked on Maverick who was quietly watching out the window. They finally made it to dinner and Peta let Maks get Lottie while she got Maverick.

"Lottie sad?" Mav asked Peta once she had him in her arms.

"She is. I think she's a little cranky since she's hungry and ready for dinner." Peta said with a wink.

"Unca Maks fix it?" Maverick asked Peta as he watched Maks cuddle Lottie into him. She started to settle once she was in the man's arms.

"It looks like he is." Peta said softly.

"Lottie love Unca Maks?

"She does buddy she does. Just like you love Uncle Maks." She said ruffling his hair before setting him down to walk next to her. The group headed in and they ordered before finding a booth. Lottie refused to leave Maks so Maverick hung out with Peta. He was a bit skeptical at first since he hadn't spent too much time with her since he was always with Sharna whenever he could be. Once they ate, Lottie was a little calmer however Maks did tell Peta she felt warm.

"I hope she's not getting sick." Peta said with a look. She started work next week and Lottie started daycare as well. Peta couldn't send her to daycare sick.

"I hope not too. Do you need to give her anything?"

"Not yet, I'll see how she is at bedtime. She was upset and everything and has stayed tucked into you. Not likely that it's that but I hate giving her things if she doesn't need it."

"Right, I understand. Do you want to skip ice cream and just head home?"

"They are not going to forget ice cream. I think it's fine. We'll just get them home and get them in jammies and do a movie right away if that's okay with you. I know you have Louis and everything so if you need to go to him you can."

"No, it's fine. I had Louis out all morning with Lottie while I kept her for you. I told you I'd help you tonight. I'm all yours. Err, I mean...you know what I meant." Maks said trying to fix his slip.

"I know. I just I don't want to take you away from anything." She said with a shrug.

"You're not. Let me help, okay?" He said not sure where the sudden bout of stubbornness had come from on Peta's part.

"Okay." She nodded before looting at the kids. "Who's ready for ice cream?"

"Meeee!" They both yelled excitedly. Peta winked at Maks as they gathered the kids and headed to the ice cream shop next door. A half hour later, they were taking two sticky little kids out to the car.

"Looks like we're having bath time before movie time." Peta said with a grin.

"I'd say so." Maks said laughing. He did his best to buckle the kids in without ending up covered as well but it was kind of a lost cause. They headed to Peta's and got the kids ready for bed before settling on the couch to watch a movie. Maverick curled up next to his uncle which set Lottie off almost immediately.

"Nooooo." She wailed from the middle of the living room as she realized Maverick was with Maks.

"What's wrong baby?" Peta said moving to pick her up. She threw herself on the floor however instead and began to scream.

"No. No. No. No." She yelled again and again.

"Baby, Momma can't fix it unless you tell me what's wrong?" Peta said sitting next to her.

"Want Aks....." She finally wailed and Peta put her head back nearly laughing.

"Sweetheart, is that why you're crying?"

"Mav sit aks. Lottie want Aks." She whimpered sadly.

"Baby, you both can sit with Maks. I think Maverick will share, right Mav?" Peta said looking at him.

"I shares Unca Maks with yous Lottie. Come here." He called her. She looked for a second and Peta thought for sure she was going to lose it again at having to share Maks but she went for the two instead. Maks pulled her up and helped her get situated.

"She's still hot." He said softly to Peta.

"I'm gonna go grab Tylenol. I mean I know she's been glued to you lately but that was a bit out of the ordinary for her. Tired or not."

"Okay. I mean maybe it's just teething?" Maks asked with a shrug. He knew and loved Maverick but didn't know what the different ailments could be for the little ones.

"Let's hope. I can't send her to daycare for the first day, sick." She said standing up and walking away. She brought the medicine back and gave it to Lottie. They started the movie and Lottie fell asleep pretty quickly. Maverick however shifted over to Peta and made it to nearly the end of the movie before falling asleep as well.

"Someone forgot about calling Sharna and Daddy." Maks said as they made their way back down the stairwell after tucking the kids in.

"That he did. I'm gonna text them real quick and just let them know he's alright. Irony is Shar will probably worry more than Noah."

"You're not kidding. It's the "new" thing." Maks said air quoting the word new. Peta knew exactly what he meant. Ever since Sharna and Noah had decided they were going to try this thing out, Sharna had developed this extreme mother sense for Maverick. It was adorable at times but you could also tell it was more intense than usual.

"Oh you're right. Are you staying for awhile? Or you leaving me?" Peta asked as she laid her phone down. She had snapped a picture of Mav snuggled into her before they had taken them up which was what she sent Sharna and Noah letting them know that he was safe and happy.

"That's up to you. I don't want to do anything you're not comfortable with." Maks said. He wanted to spend time with her but he also didn't want to be pushy and hurt her in the process.

"Stay. Do you wine? I was going to have a glass." She asked moving to the kitchen.

"I wine, I'll wine with you." He followed her. She handed him the wine and opener while she pulled down two glasses. He served them and then she lead them back into the living room. Tye both settled on the sofa, she on one end and him on the other.

"I know you're going to say to be quiet but thank you for being you with Lottie. I still feel guilty when it comes down to it but I do appreciate it. I know she misses Ollie and misses having that dad figure."

"Well it's not necessary but you're welcome. She makes it easy. She's a sweetheart. You can tell she's had a lot of love and support in her life. I think despite the fact that she's lost that, she's going to be a great kid and she has you to thank for that."

"I can't say I agree but I appreciate the idea. But I feel like you know all this stuff about us because of everything. I want to know more about you. Tell me a Maks story. Tell me about your family." She said as she curled into her end of the sofa.

"What about?" He asked looking at her with a grin.

"I don't know. You pick. Something happy." She said curling her legs under her as well.

"Alright. Hmm, I don't think I've really talked to you about my brother much have I?"

"Umm, you really only have told me about the studio and that your momma would punish you if you didn't treat a lady right. I don't even know that I knew you had a brother." Peta said was a grin.

"Okay, well that's what we'll go with. There's 6 years between us so it's always been quite the relationship. We shared a bedroom and bunk bed clear up until I was 21. Then I moved out only to start helping with a different studio."

"Wow, so you two are pretty close then?"

"Very. It's been awhile since I've seen him actually. I need to get him to get his butt down here." Maks said.

"Yes you do. Or go to him. What's his name?"

"Valentin."

"Ohh."

"But we call him Val usually. Momma is the only one who says Valentin and that means he's in trouble." Maks said laughing. He paused for a few moments before launching into a story about when Val and him were younger and they had gotten into a mess of trouble. The two were giggling ridiculously by the end of the story. Peta then began to tell a story about her and her brother, Sam, who was still in Australia. Her story was interrupted by a huge crash of thunder.

"Shit, Lottie." Peta said bouncing up. Lottie was full out terrified of thunderstorms. She would panic and shake relentlessly whenever one went down so Peta knew this wasn't going to go over well.

"What?" Maks asked jumping up with her. They were both met with a shrill shriek. Peta took off up the steps with Maks right behind her. By the time he made it to the bedroom, Peta already had Lottie up in her arms swaying her trying to calm her however the little one was having none of it. She wasn't hysterical, Maks could see she was just terrified. Maverick had woken up in the process as well, looking confused as ever and worried about Lottie.

"Unca Aks?" He whispered holding his arms up to his Uncle.

"Come here buddy, it looks like Lottie is afraid of the storm. You think we can help her feel better?" Maks said as Maverick rested his head on his shoulder. While Maverick wasn't terrified of storms he wasn't fond of them either. Maks figured distracting him was the safest best. He nodded his head so Maks moved over to the two ladies.

"It's okay baby, it's just the big booms remember?" Peta said as she swayed slowly rubbing Lottie's back in unison.

"No like, no like, no like." Lottie said miserably. She yelped as another clap echoed through the house a long with a burst of lightening.

"I know sweetheart, I know. You're safe though. Look you have momma, Maverick, and Mr. Maks." Peta said as she tried to settle her some.

"Aks. Keep Lottie safe." Lottie said picking her head up as the tears continued to fall. "And momma, and mav."

"I'm right here miss. You're safe. I promise. We're all safe."

"Hold hers." Lottie said reaching for him.

"Okay, come here baby." Maks said catching her easily. He shifted Maverick slightly guessing he wasn't going to go to Peta at the moment. Lottie buried into his neck but held her hand out for Peta as well.

"Momma, hand." She whimpered as her body shook against Maks.

"I'm right here love. We're all right here." Peta said letting her take her hand. Maverick ended up reaching across Maks and putting his hand on Lottie too. The 4 stood there for awhile as the booms and flashes continued to fill the room.

"It has to stop soon." Maks said looking at Peta.

"She's not going to settle even then. She's going to be glued to one of us for the night." Peta said knowingly. Maks nodded, not necessarily minding but trying to figure out how they were going to work this. He remembered something that he used to do with Val when they were younger and wondered if that would help.

"Do you have extra blankets? Like sheets and that?"

"Umm, yeah. I have a few extra pairs, why?"

"How would you two like to build a fort? We can camp in the living room, that way we all stay together?" Maks asked the two little ones.

"Tent?" Maverick asked knowingly from when Noah and Maks had taken him camping.

"Like a tent buddy."

"K." He nodded his head in agreement. Lottie however just buried further into Maks.

"Mav, can you go with Miss Peta and help her get the blankets? Lottie and I will get pillows and meet you in the living room. P, do you have flashlights?" He asked.

"Yeah, we can grab them too. They are actually in the kitchen. If you wanna grab the pillows out of mine and Sharna's rooms you can. Okay Mav, you ready to help?" Peta said leaning forward to take Maverick. He went with her willingly.

"Okay Miss Lottie, let's get some pillows for us. You want to camp out with me and Momma and Maverick?"

"You no go way." She said as her grip on his neck tightened. He paused his motions for a moment holding her tightly.

"I'm not going anywhere baby. I promise." Maks said pressing a kiss to her head.

"K. Lily and blankie." She pointed. The two lovies had gotten lost in her panic and were laying in her crib.

"Here you go. You hold them tight, okay?" Maks said handing them to her. Then he gathered a few of the pillows in her room, tossing them down the stairs before grabbing another batch from the guest room Sharna was staying in, followed by Peta's as well. He headed down with Lottie and started fixing the furniture so that they could make the fort. Peta and Maverick came in soon after and helped as well. Once everything was arranged they covered the furniture and chucked the pillows under makeshift tent.

"Go ahead buddy." Peta said as Maverick let her put him down and crawled in. She went after him followed by Maks and Lottie who still refused to release her grip on Maks. The storm had stopped by then however her shaking had not.

"Lottie, can you?" Maks said as he tried to get them situated. She tightened her hold on him however and he nearly laughed.

"That's a no." Peta said as she helped Maverick get snuggled into a blanket with his pillow.

"Momma" Lottie mumbled.

"I'm right here baby, I'm tucking in Maverick." Peta said as she got him all settled.

"Hold Lottie too, peas." She said sadly as she held her hand out. Peta looked between Maks and Maverick who was holding Peta's hand as well.

"Umm, Lottie, Momma..."

"Need hers too." Lottie fussed as her eyes filled with tears again.

"Okay, okay baby, I'm coming." Peta said. "I'm assuming you're keeping her for now?"

"Yeah, no use working her up, I'm fine." Maks said.

"Okay, can you get situated and then I'll just...well I'll have to lay next to you. And I'll just bring Maverick with me." Peta said as she surveyed their situation. They were already in tight corners as it was but this was tricky.

"You okay with that?" Maks asked as she shifted down keeping Lottie on him the whole time.

"I have to be. She's going to lose it. And she's not old enough that I can explain it." Peta said as she laid next to Maks before bringing Maverick over. He was basically half asleep so he barely noticed.

"Right." Maks said. Peta kept an eye on Maverick for a second until she was sure he was out before laying on her side facing Maks. Lottie was tucked into his chest with Lily and Blankie in her arms as she gripped Maks's shirt. She held her hand out for Peta who took it. this meant that Peta was resting almost near Maks's shoulder with her hand laying above his heart.

"Close your eyes lovebug. We're all right here." Peta said as she saw Lottie's eyes begin to close. Maks started to rub her back and it wasn't soon before she was out as well.

"You okay?" Maks asked looking at Peta.

"Yeah, I just don't like that I can't fix it when she's scared like that. However she's not really old enough to understand the words to explain it." She said as she shifted around trying to get comfortable.

"You're right. This is all you can do though, let her see she's honestly safe when it happens."

"Yeah." Peta said with a yawn.

"I guess we should try to sleep. There's no telling that there won't be another one." He said with a sigh.

"You're okay with her?" Peta asked.

"Yeah, she's fine."

"Okay." She shifted around a few more times trying to settle and sleep but all of a sudden it was like every bone in her body was pressing into the floor and she couldn't get comfortable. Maks watched her for quite some time trying to decide what to do before he finally decided he was going to do it.

"Come here." He said softly.

"What?" She said alarmed.

"Come here." He said again holding his arm out.

"Maks...." She said as she leaned up and looked at him.

"Nothing fancy, nothing else, just you need to sleep and clearly that's not happening now. If you get over here and it's not okay, we'll figure something else out."

"K." She said before sliding over to him. She rested her head on his shoulder as her arm came up to rest around Lottie. He wrapped his arm around her and settled it on her hip. He waited a few more moments before saying anything.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, goodnight Peta."

"Goodnight Maks." She said. It still took a little bit it wasn't long before sleep won and she drifted off to dreamland along with the other three.

**That's a wrap. Guess who's back! Maybe not permanently or well consistently but a lot of things have settled in life. Some changes may be coming that have been long anticipated and honestly needed. So as long as things continue to progress well, I'll have writing time again. I can't say there will be a schedule or that I'll update once a week but I'll try to not leave you guys again.

Thank you for sticking this out with me. I hope you enjoy this one! Don't forget to like it and let me know what you thought. Love you all!

#chmergs #chmergatroyd #chmergatroyd fanfiction #shway #shway fanfiction #peta #Maksim Chmerkovskiy #peta and maks #peta murgatroyd #sharna burgess #Noah Galloway #alternate universe #sarahs stories #im back

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laurlovescookies · 7 years

Text

Kadamtimes Prompt: I Think I Want to Marry You 1/1

Adam and Kurt are planning their wedding while visiting Lima. Sue Sylvester demands an invitation. Kurt is not amused; Adam is terribly so.

Sooo, I decided to make Sue a hardcore Kadam shipper whom shares the pain of our minority fandom. Just a short and silly piece which I hope makes you smile!

-O-

“I’m sorry if you don’t like this place,” Kurt apologized as he and Adam entered the restaurant, stomping away the snow on their shoes. “

Unraveling the red scarf Carol had knit for him, Adam threw his fiancé a reassuring look.

“Nothing to worry about, love. You hold your Glee-unions here every time everyone can make it back here, right? There’s a lot of sentimental value to this place.”

“I guess,” Kurt said grudgingly as they trundled in line to be seated by the hostess. Whatever his tone, Adam noticed Kurt was looking around the joint affectionately. “Still, it’s a bit embarrassing that seven years after leaving Lima, Breadstix is the closest thing we have to fine dining. I guess I’ve been spoiled in New York.”

“Hard not to be. You could eat out at a different restaurant every night for a year, several years, and still not have covered but maybe half a percent of what the city has to offer in food.”

“The food here isn’t bad; the commercials always say the breadsticks are sprinkled in fairy dust, but I’m sure there are illegal drugs mixed up in there too. But it’s quantity over quality, and we never saw chicken alfredo or fried chicken ravioli at Giovanni’s or one of those little hole-in-the-ground gems your friends always recommend.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” said Adam as they moved forward in line. “The closest thing my hometown had to quality dining was pub food, really. And that includes a lot of organs in the UK—steak and kidney pie, or haggis…”

Kurt wrinkled his nose. “I will never forgive you for suggesting I order stargazey pie when we last visited your folks. It sounded so good, and you knew it had fish sticking out and staring at you!”

“You must’ve forgiven me a little, considering you agreed to marry me a few days later.”

“Well, you’re lucky you’re very cute.”

“At least I have that going for me.”

“Table for two, sirs?” Asked the hostess, and Kurt could’ve sworn he’d seen her before, albeit many years ago when he and the Glee club began frequenting this place. He took a closer look; she looked a little older and had a ring glinting on her left finger, but he definitely remembered her. Not for the first time he felt a rush of gratitude that he’d escaped this place which had all the gravitational pull of a black hole. It sounded snobbish, but Lima had always been an overly-conservative, cultural wasteland; Glee had been an oasis.

“Hullo!” Adam said cheerfully, jerking him from his thoughts. “We’re actually meeting our friends Chang and Abrahmson…?”

“Kurt! Adam! Over here!”

Tina wildly waved them over from her table, grinning ear-to-ear. Smiling, the hostess handed them their menus and they hurried over, Artie playfully tipping a wheelie as Tina rushed to hug them both.

“What’s up, my homies?” he crowed, thumping their backs as each man stooped to embrace him. “So glad you could get away last minute!”

“Well, we thought we would delay our connection flight back to the city when we heard you were visiting too. Don’t get too many opportunities to visit Canada, do we?”

Shortly after Artie graduated from film school he and Tina traveled to Toronto for Artie’s latest project, a movie called The Colors We Leave Behind, which Tina had starred in. Critical response was explosively positive, and the production reaped Best in Show and Honorable Nominee awards in festivals well-over North America. The couple wound up staying in Toronto where Artie was at work establishing his own company.

“So, let’s see, let’s see,” Kurt said breathlessly seizing Tina’s hand, scrutinizing the glint of gold and the black diamond carefully. He flushed with delight, flailing as Tina sat back and laughed. “Nice! Artie, might I say you have impeccably good taste, and you know Tina to a T. Congratulations, I’m so happy for you!”

“Thanks, bro. Got some bling-bling on the fing-fing! Now let’s see yours,” demanded Artie. Kurt blushed as Adam raised his hand triumphantly as if he’d just won a bull fight. Tina’s eyes welled up and she looked away, murmuring something about being glad she’d worn water-proof mascara. “Man, I’m so glad. Welcome to the family, Adam! Um, our highly-incestuous family which was at each other’s throats for years, but we loved each other a bit more than we wanted to kill each other, and that counts for something, right?”

Kurt rolled his eyes as Adam very seriously (albeit with a twinkle in his eye) said “Absolutely.”

“Congrats, you guys,” said Tina, reaching over to hug Kurt. “Couldn’t have happened to better people.”

“Do tell: Any wedding plans?” Kurt asked eagerly, eyes lighting up like two stars. Adam knew Kurt could very well succeed in any field he liked, but people would’ve fought in the streets for his wedding planning abilities.

“We’re thinking about a Halloween wedding, with a masquerade theme. Everyone has to wear costumes,” said Tina proudly, squeezing her fiancé’s hand affectionately. “That includes you two. I’m still at work on my outfit.”

“I’m probably going to be Stephen Hawking or R2-D2. Haven’t decided yet, but I might just do both and come as a cyborg. Why not? It’s Canada. You can be whatever you want to be.”

Adam leaned forward with a gleam in his eye. “Well, we made a brilliant Jack and Sally at Isabel’s last costume party,” he pointed out to Kurt, whom was already looking a little bemused. “Would it be in bad taste if Kuht and I dressed like zombies?”

“Not at all. We’re incorporating those into the cake. And we’re renting a venue that’s supposedly haunted by a janitor and his cat.”

Kurt clearly looked conflicted for a moment, and then he smiled and nodded—when in doubt, he’d often advised Adam. “I like this, I like this. That’ll be anything but boring. We won’t miss it for the world. I’d recommend in the spirit of pure authenticity that you go with a strawberry filling with your cake. It’ll seem like people are eating gore.”

Tina looked as if she could kiss him. “Oh my God, Kurt. That’s fantastic. You think of everything.”

Kurt flashed Adam an affectionate look as he looped an arm around Kurt’s waist, stifling a chuckle. The idea of a macabre Halloween wedding likely violated every wedding sensibility Kurt Hummel had, but there really wasn’t anything he wasn’t willing to work with.

“And in lieu of using tea-lights, might I suggest using lanterns on the table for a more dismal ambiance? Actually, if you’re looking to be economically-efficient, I’d use jack-o-lanterns instead.”

Artie whipped out a notepad from his bag and started scribbling furiously as Adam thoughtfully wondered aloud: “We know some excellent makeup artists on Broadway whom would probably be more than happy to give us pointers on how to look like extras on The Living Dead.”

“Might I suggest we dress like Jack and Enis from Brokeback Mountain? It’s a bit morbid, but at least they’d be together again.”

“Oh my frog, what about your wedding plans?” Tina asked, leaning forward in her seat. Kurt took her hands in his. “England or New York? What venue? Oh my God, Kurt, I’m so excited to see what you do; you stashed wedding magazines like contraband in your room for years. Your parents’ wedding was incredible, and you didn’t even have that much money to work with!”

Kurt blushed. “Well, we, um—“

“Wait, has your engagement been linked to the press yet?” Artie asked, frowning slightly. “They’re going to go insane; Broadway stars getting hitched doesn’t exactly go under the radar.”

“It most certainly does not.”

Sue Sylvester casually wandered over to their table, her saunter decrying her fixed expression. Artie went white, a thunderstruck Tina bit her lip, and Kurt closed his eyes and tilted his head to the ceiling as if praying for deliverance. Adam gazed at her, utterly bewildered. He’d met the infamous Sue Sylvester only twice before, and never encountered a woman in so much need of an ominous theme music to accompany her as to warn the public of her approach.

“Greetings to you all,” Sue said briskly, putting her hands on her hips. “Porcelain. Lovechild of Satan and Lucy Lu. Specs the Little Engine that Can’t. Rainbow Brite’s gay English cousin.” She nodded to them each solemnly in turn, and Adam stuffed a fist against his mouth, eyes watering with the effort not to laugh.

“What are you doing here, Sue?” Artie asked flatly. At that moment the waiter opted to appear behind Sue. “Good evening! Oh, ma’am, were you intending to join their table?”

“No, no, she was just—“

“Absolutely,” said Sue at once, unwavering stare locked on the four. “I could use a chair.”

“Excellent, ma’am. Just a moment.”

As the waiter scurried off, Kurt surveyed Sue wearily, eyes flicking to the nearest glowing Exit sign. “How did you know where to find us?”

“I resent the implication that I planted a tracking device on someone’s mobile chair,” said Sue, and a clearly alarmed Artie twisted in his seat, carefully looking his wheels over. “But in the spirit of all fairness, when your Glee club members return to your native habit, if you’re not haunting the stomping grounds of your gay camp—the sing-along Kumbaya variety, not the Jesus one—you spend thirty percent of your time here in this restaurant, so coming here would’ve made sense in any case.”

The waiter pushed a free chair to the table, and Sue sat down on it without a word of thanks. “May I start you folks off with anything to drink?”

“A glass of something red for everyone,” she ordered, without so much as looking around. “In the case of Edna Scissorhands over there though, you might want to provide a glass of human blood to go alongside it.”

“Excellent choice. I’ll be back in just a moment.”

“Don’t worry, kids. Drinks are on me tonight. Well, they’re actually on you; I just ordered them. But that’s basically the same thing.”

“Maybe if we ignore her, she’ll go away,” said Tina, slouching in her seat.

“I’d hope several years of my making your lives a veritable living hell would imply otherwise.”

“Well, if you dislike everyone so much, why are you here?” Adam inquired, settling his cheek in his hand. Sue cast him a cool look.

“Well, Brit butt-chin wonder whom I hate slightly-less than everyone present because you weren’t a member of the lollipop guild, I’m here because I wanted to offer you my heartiest congratulations on your coming nuptials.”

“We’ve hardly told anyone. How in the world…you know what, never mind.” Said Kurt, letting his forehead fall on his crossed arms. “I’m sure I’d rather not know.”

“You catch on quickly, Porcelain. Well, as sickened as I am to learn that in all likelihood you Glee members are about to begin in-breeding an army of unholy singing misfit dwarves, the prospect of your weddings are something I cherish. And that’s not because I like free food and stashing good silver in my pockets—not only, anyway. And I’m very disappointed to say that I’ve yet to have received invitations.”

Tina cringed. It was as if Maleficient had suddenly melted from the darkness to offer a subtle threat.

“You spent years bullying us, Sue. Why should we believe that you want to attend our ceremonies? You stuffed garlic in my locker and convinced Principal Figgins to try and stake me through the chest.”

“You slashed my tires over fifty times,” Artie accused.

“You confiscated my romance novels and had me eating celery for over a week when I joined the Cheerios,” cried Kurt.

“You threatened to push me down the stairs!” exclaimed Adam.

“I did it so you’d know not to pull a Blainers on the Glee member I nominated ‘Least Likely To Be Deported to Guantamino Bay for Crimes Against Humanity Via Singing-Induced Torture.’”

“We’d only just met! And then you did push me down the stairs that very next moment! I didn’t even do anything!”

“What you call ‘bullying,’ I call ‘endurance training.’ And if the marines deal my methods to be unethical or over-exerting, well, that’s just their loss. Face it, dealing with me made you better-prepared to deal with a cruel, cruel world, right? When I said you were losers, I was saying that because I cared. And I care so deeply about you that I made my own invitations,” she announced, pulling two hand-made cards from her pocket. “That saves you the trouble of having to buy and make them for me. By the way, yes I accept, I have formal black and white tracksuits to wear for each occasion, and I’ll have the chicken.”

“This isn’t high school anymore,” Kurt pointed out crossly. “We don’t have to listen to you.”

“Porcelain, you wound me. Especially when I took the time to book your honeymoon trips as wedding gifts. Tina and Artie, you’ll be pleased to learn that I booked you an all-expense paid trip to the Alps for a ski trip. Adam and Kurt, I got you tickets and a hotel stay in Saudi Arabia. A trip off the beaten path.”

“I can’t ski!” said Artie incredulously, gesturing to his chair.

“And incidentally, homosexuality is a crime punishable by decapitation in Saudi Arabia,” Adam pointed out, very-near scowling. “Do you know what would happen if Kurt and I just showed up at the front desk announcing we wanted a honeymoon suite?”

“Yes, well, logistics. Just switch, and everyone’s happy.”

“I don’t want to go to Saudi Arabia,” Tina snapped.

“The black shrouds that the women wear aren’t all that different from your daily wardrobe. Plus good protection for you against the sun.”

“Sue, please let it go.” Kurt implored. “I can’t think you actually want to come to my wedding and wish us well.”

Sue rounded on him at once. “I’m shocked! Your wedding is the one I least want to miss. I ship you so hard it hurts my heart. Seriously—my doctor warned me against it. But Kadam is just something I cannot and should not resist. Even with the dearth of fanart.”

“We’ve talked about this,” said Kurt angrily as Adam pretended to look for something under the table, laughing so loudly it was silent. “You need to stop posting Real People Fiction stories online about the glee club members.”

“And quit posting them to our Facebook pages! I don’t know how you got past our blocks, but it’s got to stop.” Griped Tina, banging her fist on the table. “You totally ripped off Stephen King’s Misery when you wrote that story about my locking Blaine in my basement. And I’d never do that, by the way.”

“I don’t like it either,” said Artie firmly. “You can’t just make practically everyone in Glee club gay. I didn’t appreciate that one-shot you posted; I would never do that to Kurt.”

“Oh, I’ve come to accept that. My interest in Kartie was short-lived, I assure you. And Klaine—“ Sue wrinkled her nose. “I had to delete those stories. I felt mortified. Tainted. It turns out I’m into healthy, happy, and non-codependent relationships.”

“Can you get one of your own, then?” Asked Kurt despairingly as Adam re-emerged, face flushed, still shaking with laughter.

“No,” said Sue. “And might I say it pains me to be a minority. I feel your pain, Vampiric Cohen-Chang, for I too stand alone in a sea of fool shippers whom love that tool so much they ought to relocate themselves into a shed. Or someplace where straitjackets are dress code.”

“Just how many people do this?” asked Adam wonderingly, as Kurt muttered “Don’t encourage her.”

“Well, you four are all famous now. Even Blaine is, though I like to pretend he was kidnapped by Somalian pirates. Naturally people like to write stories ranging from sweet to mentally cataclysmic about the celebrity couples they dream up. Although I was doing it before it was cool. If you want Kadam fanfiction, alas, I’ve come to terms with the fact that you have to write it yourself. Although I do aspire to be like my fellow troopers. They’ve been in the trenches with me for some time.”

“Sue—“ Kurt interjected tiredly.

“In all seriousness, seeing you visit Lima looking so miserable after Blaine cheated on you made me want to kick a wall or kill a small woodland creature. I did both and neither made me feel better,” the woman said, picking up her menu and reading carefully when Kurt started in surprise. “Pushing Blaine down the stairs sort of did though. In retrospect, he might’ve done you a favor; you might’ve felt obligated to stay with him had he not cheated, and that’s a pretty rotten reason to stay in a relationship. Especially with someone whom encourages you to be small to make themselves feel big. That’s why I gave you a friendly push out the door; long-distance relationships just aren’t made to last.”

Her voice became considerably lower, as if she feared someone would overhear. “And you deserved better.”

Kurt was stunned speechless. Adam reached for Kurt’s hand and squeezed it.

“Well…in that case, thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome. And so I will be pleased to attend your wedding. In fact,” said Sue, a conspiratorial spark glinting in her eye. “I will be pleased to accept your invitation to become your flower girl.”

What? This woman’s reason left Adam’s head spinning worse than when she’d pushed him down the steps in front of Kurt’s old high school.

“We didn’t offer that!” protested Kurt.

“But you will,” said Sue placidly, reaching behind her to steal a basket of breadsticks from a passing waiter’s tray, setting it on the table and helping herself to one. “Because I’ve always supported you 115%. After Blaine’s hideous proposal, I had Astro Boy put in detention for a week due to gross misuse of hair gel. And then I snuck into his home and cut up all his bow ties.”

“That’s…that’s very sweet of you, but—“

“And I’ve cherished a dream for years of being a flower girl at your opulent gay wedding at the Plaza hotel,” she finished triumphantly. Kurt buried his face in his hands.

“How did…no. No. Never mind; I don’t want to know.”

“The Plaza?” squealed Tina in delight. “That’ll be beautiful!”

“A…flower girl?” asked Adam in surprise. “You?”

“Are you doubting my ability to strew flowers in a girlish and joyful fashion? It’s on my resume. And I have headshots.”

“Um…that’s very…generous, but we already have a flower girl,” said Kurt with a consolatory expression belied by a slight lip twitch. “Adam’s second cousin Emma already claimed the spot.”

“Fine. Tell Emma I will fight her for the basket, with whichever weapon she chooses. I’m partial to knife fights, though I do have a propensity to bring guns—“

Adam nearly sputtered water over himself. “Emma is five!”

“Oh. Well, we know how that ends, then.”

“Why do I get the feeling that this will be much easier if we just say yes?” asked Artie, sighing.

“Excellent idea. I knew those glasses meant something beyond the fact that you’re a nerd.”

“She’ll just hound us to the end of the Earth,” he pointed out as Tina shook her head.

“It’s a matter of principal, Artie. It’s like Rachel said: We shouldn’t negotiate with terrorists. I vote no.”

“Well, I vote yes,” said Sue, crossing her arms. “So clearly regarding this wedding, you’re outvoted.”

“You don’t get to vote!”

Kurt looked down at his plate thoughtfully. He was radiating hesitation; while Adam wouldn’t really mind having two flower girls (even a manic woman like Sylvester) she’d spent a considerable amount of time and effort trying to take away the Glee club safe space, even if she did opt to help them win Nationals.

“Mommy?”

A little blond girl approached the table, adjusting her glasses. Robin Sylvester had a small bunny and a book in hand, eyeing them all curiously. Sue’s stony expression melted at once, and Adam couldn’t blame her; he and Kurt nursed soft spots for Sue’s sweet and bright child. How Sue had produced her was one of life’s inscrutable mysteries.

“Hello, sweetheart,” the woman cooed, scooping up the little girl, whom murmured a shy “Hello” when Kurt waved and Adam winked at her. “Weren’t you reading your book at the table?”

“I was, but I wondered what you were doing.”

“Just negotiating, angel. Mommy wants to be a flower girl, and these mean people are saying no.”

Robin perked up with interest immediately.

“Flower girls are pretty. My friend Rosie got to be one,” she murmured, taking a breadstick her mother proffered. “And she looked so nice. The flowers smelled so good.” She looked up at Sue with a smile. “You would be a pretty flower girl too, Mommy.”

Sue beamed down at her before looking pointedly at them all, whom now looked quite pained.

Oh, what were you supposed to say to that?

Adam recovered first. “Well, Sue, we appreciate your offer, but I’m afraid Kurt and I just can’t invite you to our wedding. It’s a matter of principle.” Something like hurt flashed in Sue’s expression, although she quickly masked it.

“Buuuut, if this lovely little lady would like to accept an invitation to be a flower girl and just so happens to bring you along as her plus one, well, we’ll just have to deal with it. Won’t we, Kurt?” he asked, now feeling uncertain. He really ought to have discussed this with him first.

But Kurt’s eyes were glowing softly in approval. “Well, we certainly can’t choose Robin’s plus one. So we’d simply have to make it work. And if Robin just so happened to share her basket with her mom, well, there’s no helping that, is there?”

“Mommy, what are they saying?” asked Robin, whom didn’t seem to believe her ears. Adam flashed her a toothy grin.

“Miss Robin Sylvester, will you be our flower girl? We have another one, but the more the merrier, right?”

“Mommy, can I?”

“Of course, of course, yes!” she crowed, squeezing the little girl tightly; the latter looked enraptured, wriggling with pure joy. Sue drew back a bit, looking slightly concerned.

“But I do get to be your plus one, right?”

Robin bobbed her head.

“And you’ll share your flowers with me?”

“Yes.”

Sue hummed in satisfaction, kissing her on the head. “That’s so good of you.” She gave Kurt and Adam a look that came somewhere in-between annoyance and gratitude.

Tina was looking resiliently away, but she was now fighting a begrudging smile of her own. “Well,” she said shrugging, looking at Artie. “We aren’t having flower girls at our wedding, but if we just so happen to invite Robin and she brings Sue, then we can’t object to that either.”

“Whaddaya say, sweets? Can I be your plus one again?”

Robin bobbed her head again. Sue looked like a well-satisfied cat. “Just so you’re aware, my child is cuter than any of your future spawn,” she announced, looking up at the waiter as he returned with the wine. “I’ll be paying for tonight’s dinner, although you need to put a lot of garlic in the girl’s food.”

Tina made a face.

And so that’s how Kurt and Adam were suckered into having three flower girls instead of one.

#kadam fanfic #Kadam Week 2017 #kadam #Kurt Hummel #Adam Crawford

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ricardosousalemos · 7 years

Text

Violent Femmes: Violent Femmes

Billie Jo Campbell was discovered at age 3 while walking down a street in Los Angeles with her mother. A photographer approached, told the mother that Billie Jo was adorable, and asked if she wouldn’t mind her daughter appearing in a photo shoot at a house in Laurel Canyon. The mother—“a free spirit,” Billie Jo explained—promptly set up an appointment. They later learned that the shoot was for the cover of an album by an obscure acoustic-punk trio from Milwaukee about to release their debut. In the photo, barefoot Billie Jo wears a cute white dress and strains to peer inside a darkened house through a window. She had no idea that this was an apt metaphor for the band’s songs, which capture that precise moment when childhood innocence is corrupted by the obsessions of the adult world—sex, violence, perverted religiosity, and omnipresent death.

Years later, when Billie Jo was a teenager in the ’90s, she realized that the album was pretty momentous. “This was my bragging point,” she recalled in 2007. “I’d be at parties, and if the girls in the dorm knew you were trying to meet cute boys, they’d tell them I am on the cover.”

What’s amazing about this story isn’t just that Billie Jo Campbell was still recognized, well into her college years, as the kid on the cover of the Violent Femmes’ self-titled 1983 LP. It’s that people knew what the cover even looked like. “I think the majority of people found out about our music because somebody had made a tape and played it at a party. I’ve heard that so many times,” said Violent Femmes’ singer-songwriter Gordon Gano in a 2016 interview, still cherubic even in his early 50s. “A few years ago, I had somebody that was a big fan say, ‘What does your album cover look like? I’ve never seen it because it’s always been on a tape that somebody made.’”

Violent Femmes are perhaps the greatest mixtape band of its era—they were to Maxell what Drake now is to Spotify playlists. Long after the Femmes’ initial wave of underground fame came and went in the mid-’80s, choice cuts from their first album kept popping up on countless tapes dispensed throughout teenage suburbia. For those that encountered the Femmes in this manner, the band’s songs were akin to outsider art—found musical data that offered bracingly unfiltered takes on lust and alienation and the yearning to belong, written on an acoustic guitar by a misfit kid who sang in an untrained pubescent whine. Mixtapes gave Violent Femmes renewed life divorced from the context of their own up-and-down career, infusing songs from their first and most successful record with the adolescent angst of each subsequent generation of middle-schoolers in search of a spokesman.

This is the art of the mixtape, finding songs that will expose your innermost self to whoever is receiving the tape. And Violent Femmes songs were catchy and simple enough to work especially well as plainspoken musical messages. If you wanted a killer kick-off for your “I’m an Edgy Outsider and Want to Be Appreciated As Such” mix—one of the most popular mixtape genres—a common choice was “Blister in the Sun,” in which Gano snakes allusions to heroin and premature ejaculation behind Brian Ritchie’s relentlessly busy bass line, like a shoplifter stuffing cigarettes down the front of his jeans. And the perfect closer for that tape would inevitably be “Add It Up,” a relentless rant that argues against involuntary celibacy on the grounds that it can make you homicidal. (“Gone Daddy Gone” also worked in this slot, particularly if the tape had an “all marimbas” theme.)

The other most popular mixtape genre was “I’m Into You and This Is My Way of Showing It,” and Violent Femmes delivered there as well. Gano wrote the most romantic song on Violent Femmes, “Good Feeling,” when he was just 15. An affectingly pure expression of fairy-tale love, “Good Feeling” is a rare moment of unfettered tenderness on an otherwise brash record, revealing the nice young man behind the bravado who was raised by a Baptist minister and a theater actress. Gano actually wrote a collection of gospel songs around the same time as Violent Femmes, but Ritchie, an atheist, refused to record them. He and excitable stand-up drummer Victor DeLorenzo—who was the oldest member by several years—were more comfortable with the nervy “Please Do Not Go,” in which Gano pledges to “patiently pray, pray, pray, pray, pray” for sex rather than salvation.

Gano and Ritchie later admitted that the members of Violent Femmes had virtually nothing in common except for music. But in the beginning, at least, that was enough to bond them together, because nobody else in their hometown of Milwaukee, Wis. took Violent Femmes seriously. The affectations that later endeared them to fans —the ramshackle instrumentation, the spitefully witty lyrics, Gano’s habit of wearing a bathrobe in public—stigmatized the Femmes in the Milwaukee club scene. They were forced to busk in the street with acoustic instruments because nobody would book them.

According to legend, Violent Femmes were “discovered” in 1981 by James Honeyman-Scott of the Pretenders, who invited them to open for his band during a performance at Milwaukee’s Oriental Theatre after seeing them busk outside the venue. Gano had just graduated from high school, and it was rare of the Femmes to perform indoors on an actual stage.

This story became an oft-repeated talking point in press releases after the Femmes became semi-famous in the American indie underground. But as the band members themselves were quick to point out, Violent Femmes were hardly set up for a professional career after that minor acknowledgment. As always, they were left to fend for themselves, eventually borrowing $10,000 from DeLorenzo’s father to fund recording sessions at a studio in Lake Geneva, about 50 miles southwest of Milwaukee. Producer Mark Van Hecke later described the studio as being “in a state of collapse. You’d go into the studio and there would be this equipment, and the next day you go in there’s a piece missing because it got repossessed.” Van Hecke’s intention was to give Violent Femmes a classic Sun Sessions sound, though this naturalistic approach required lots of takes, as the band tended to move around a lot while playing. For Van Hecke, working with the Femmes was an act of faith—he had previously tried to shop a three-song demo to a few dozen record labels in New York and Los Angeles, and all of them said no. “A lot of people thought I was nuts and this was shit. I knew it wasn’t,” he said later.

Nevertheless, Violent Femmes were oddly confident in themselves. “When we made the first album, we thought it was destined to be considered a masterpiece,” Ritchie claimed in 2015. The first prominent person to agree that Violent Femmes were destined for greatness was New York Times music critic Robert Palmer, whose rave review of two performances opening for Richard Hell at the Bottom Line and CBGB in 1982 was instrumental in getting the Femmes a deal with Slash Records.

Palmer, a blues scholar who had just published the definitive history Deep Blues the previous year, compared Gano to his most obvious antecedents, Lou Reed and Jonathan Richman. But Palmer also heard a new strain of Americana in Violent Femmes’ revved-up, snotty confessionals, likening songs to “the discursive, rambling structures of folk-era Dylan.” In a subsequent review of Violent Femmes’ second album, 1984’s overtly spiritual Hallowed Ground, Palmer detected “a subterranean mother lode of apocalyptic religion, murder, and madness that has lurked just under the surface of hillbilly music and blues since the 19th century” in the Femmes’ knowingly primitive music. Perhaps Palmer was also thinking of Violent Femmes’ “Gone Daddy Gone,” which lifts a verse from Willie Dixon’s “I Just Want To Make Love To You,” or the teenage murder ballad “To The Kill,” in which Gano fantasizes about vengefully hunting down his ex in Chicago, like so many Delta musicians decades earlier.

Flash forward to the ’90s, and Palmer’s conflation of Gano’s songs with the timeless quality of the blues felt truer than ever, even as Violent Femmes also seemed more contemporary than ever. In the ’80s, Violent Femmes were strictly an underground phenomenon; a slow but steady seller, the self-titled debut finally went platinum in February of 1991, though it didn’t actually crack the Billboard 200 chart until later that year. By then, Violent Femmes had achieved a measure of mainstream recognition thanks to the alt-rock explosion. They became a fixture of nostalgic movie soundtracks—Ethan Hawke sang “Add It Up” to needle Winona Ryder in Reality Bites, and Minnie Driver blasted “Blister In The Sun” on the hip underground radio show that John Cusack obsesses over in Grosse Pointe Blank. Violent Femmes even appeared in an episode of “Sabrina The Teenage Witch”—mean girl Libby casts a spell on Gano, making him serenade her with “Please Do Not Go” while Sabrina and her aunts do an awkward skank.

Violent Femmes' influence was now discernible in the legion of underground rockers who had codified Gano's quirky vocal style into what is now commonly recognized as the "indie guy" voice. In years to come, Gano’s vocals—recently described by author J.K. Rowling as sounding “like a bee in a plastic cup”—would echo in Stephen Malkmus, Jeff Mangum, Colin Meloy, Alec Ounsworth of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, and countless less heralded reedy young men.

Violent Femmes remain a band out of time. They are rarely mentioned with the “canon” bands of ’80s American post-punk—lacking the sales and accolades of R.E.M., the Replacements, and the Pixies, the Femmes don’t signify an era so much as a time of life. Violent Femmes is children’s music for teenagers—uber-elementary sing-alongs that have their time and place, and then are set aside as facile once they’re outgrown.

But Violent Femmes deserves better. If the blues survived because of the oral tradition of passing down songs from one singer to another, Violent Femmes endured because the tunes were shared via word of mouth at dorm parties and high school keggers. (Even the girl on the cover learned about Violent Femmes that way.) And don’t discount those precious mixtapes, a primitive form of social media that worked exponentially slower than the internet but were ultimately no less effective at creating a lasting legacy.

For young people growing up in the internet age, Violent Femmes is part of a shared language. In 2013, after a period of estrangement marked by lawsuits and public in-fighting, Violent Femmes were persuaded to reunite for a performance at Coachella. “As soon as we started out the set with ‘Blister in the Sun,’ when that riff hit, it was like a swarm of insects coming towards our stage. They all started running from the other stages,” Ritchie recalled. All these years later, whenever teenagers listen to songs from Violent Femmes, they also hear themselves.

#reviews-albums

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