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clandonnachaidh · 3 years

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Light Across The Seas That Severed (Ch3)

AO3

Even after years of friendship, of seeing each other through some of the best and some of the hardest times of their lives, Jamie Fraser would still need to catch his breath at the sight of Claire Beauchamp when she really laughed. With her head thrown back, her whisky eyes would screw shut and she would run her long fingers into her beautiful hair in comedic exasperation.

If watching her laugh was a sight to behold, making her laugh was the best thing in the world.

They were sat across from each other surrounded by a pungent cloud of smoke, both of them situated on plush sofas of green leather that was cracked and worn from use. With each passing minute, Jamie felt like the sofa was beginning to swallow him. He made the mistake of voicing his concern to Claire.

She thought the whole thing was hilarious, obviously, and told him so before taking a bite out of the space cake that she had cut down the middle to share.

“Edibles are stronger, you’ll only need half anyway,” she had said in her matter of fact way that she had, taking charge of the situation from the minute they’d stepped foot in the coffee shop.

Jamie Fraser, being the good catholic boy that he was, had never been inside such a place and he certainly hadn’t experienced anything like the Red Light District that they had just walked through. Of course he had heard of Amsterdam’s relaxed laws when it came to sex work and drugs but seeing it first hand was something entirely different. When he caught sight of the first woman in the window, her long blonde hair tumbling around her bare shoulders, he felt the blush rise to the very tips of his ears as Claire just laughed and dragged him by the hand, deeper into the belly of the beast.

The plan had been for them to spend two days in the city before they said goodbye. Claire was following her heart (which took the shape of one Frank Randall, the same bastard who’d stood her up the night that Jamie and Claire had kissed for the first and only time) to Boston where she’d managed to get a placement in a surgical programme while Frank would teach at Harvard. It had taken everything in Jamie not to break when she told him, the smile that she had plastered on her face not quite reaching her eyes as she surveyed his reaction over her coffee cup. He had swallowed the rising panic in his throat and felt as it soured in his stomach but he managed to calm himself long enough to take a deep breath and tell her the truth — that he was proud of her and he would miss her. He would miss her so much.

Jamie knew that she was lying about not being able to book a more straightforward trip from London to Boston and he strongly suspected that she had orchestrated the two day layover in Amsterdam for the sole purpose of asking if he’d like to join her, a mini break that they both sorely needed after an arduous final year at university. He hadn’t even needed to think about it before he agreed and in the week leading up to it, he had struggled to think of anything but watching her as she wandered around the Rijksmuseum, oblivious to the art hanging on the walls when he had his own masterpiece right in front of him.

“I canna believe I’m in such a place wi’ ye, Sassenach, and for breakfast no less,” he said, hearing a laugh that didn’t sound quite like his own. Frowning at himself, he looked across at her as she chuckled kindly at him, her index finger dabbing a crumb from the corner of her mouth before popping it between her lips. The lips that he had tasted just once years ago in what had been agreed as a funny drunken lapse of judgment in a grubby old pub on the edge of their college campus.

“You just need to relax and you’ll enjoy it, I promise,” she said. It had been her idea to get high first thing in the morning and then spend the remainder of their final day together strolling around the museums and parks of the city, allowing themselves to get into the spirit of the place and cut loose for once.

He watched her waggling her eyebrows suggestively, looking to him like furry brown worms, “You seemed to enjoy the ladies outside well enough.”

He went bright red and tried to sit up straighter amongst the sofa cushions that were trying their best to swallow him, “Dinna be daft, ye ken I wouldnae pay a woman to do that sort of thing.”

“A lot of people pay for sex, Jamie, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Two consenting adults and all that.”

He had always known that Claire was a very liberal thinker and she spent a lot of time and energy educating herself on things to broaden her perspective of the world. Jamie admired her for it even if he did enjoy poking fun at her sometimes, just to watch the spark catch fire in her eyes as she told him precisely why he was wrong.

“Aye well, that’s all fine an’ weel but I winna be dealing wi’ it myself, thank ye.”

“Oh, live a little, Fraser. How long has it been since Annalise? Seven months?” She asked him directly as he made a very Scottish noise in the back of his throat in an attempt to dismiss the conversation about his ex-girlfriend.

“I’ll thank ye to leave her out of our weekend,” he warned her jokingly, delighting in the corner of her mouth quirking upwards in amusement. Before he knew it, the words were tumbling out of his mouth, “Besides, Lise and I, we never…”

He watched as Claire’s eyes almost burst from her skull as she leaned forward, her beautiful mouth gaping at his revelation. Why the hell had he told her that? They never spoke about the personal details of their respective relationships, it was the unspoken rule between them. Don’t ask, don’t tell. Jamie could think of nothing worse than sitting and listening to Claire regale him of her sexual exploits with the uptight historian. It also meant that Claire didn’t know exactly how much sex Jamie wasn’t having.

“Never?! You were together for a year!” The amazement in her voice was evident and Jamie flopped backwards in the sofa, raising his hands to his face. He cursed the effects of the marijuana that had relaxed him to the point where he was divulging information that he would usually keep behind his teeth.

“Never, okay?”

“Wow… okay… not sure what to do with that but okay,” she mirrored his body language, collapsing back onto her sofa and tucking her legs up underneath her. “So you’ve not had sex in what, just shy of two years? Good God, you must have the patience of a saint.”

“Something like that,” he mumbled into his palms, refusing to remove them for the fear of her gaze seeing the truth that he was trying desperately to keep hidden but that was on the tip of his very stoned tongue.

“Longer than two years?” He heard her whisper in disbelief.

“Try 24.”

They sat in silence for a few seconds before it became too much, he had to look at her to gauge her reaction to his honesty. He had expected her to laugh or to yell in surprise but he realised that she mostly just looked curious, like she was trying to figure out the answer to the puzzle that was sat opposite her.

“You’re a virgin?” He nodded in response and watched as her shoulders dropped slightly, smiling kindly at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because we dinna talk about things like this,” he sighed. He could see all the questions that were threatening to slip past her lips.

“Have you not wanted to? Because that’s okay, maybe you’re just not into the thought of-“

“Christ, no! No, I’m definitely into the thought of it,” he laughed. “From the age of thirteen to seventeen, I barely thought of anything else. Besides, I said I was a virgin, no’ a monk. I’ve done stuff.”

She laughed at that, “So why not? I’m sorry, you absolutely do not have to tell me but I- just… how? Why?”

“Was just waitin’ on the right woman,” he shrugged in an attempt to appear nonchalant about the whole thing. Whether she was buying it or not, he couldn’t tell but he was certain that if she listened hard enough, she could hear his heart beating out a rhythm in time with the syllables of her name.

Because that was the real truth, wasn’t it? That he had been waiting for her.

She didn’t say anything in response, just leaned to cut the remaining space cake in half again, offering the larger half to Jamie that he almost snatched from her, anything to distance himself from the conversation that they were having.

He was grateful when she left it at that, being able to intuit that he wasn’t comfortable with the line of questioning. That night, when the effects of their morning had worn off, they rented bikes and attempted to navigate the city like the locals did, getting horribly lost and ending up drinking a beer by the canal as the sun went down. Jamie watched as the rays painted her pale skin gold and the wind caught the folds of her sundress, settling the material delicately against her bonnie wee shins. It had been the perfect day and Jamie didn’t want it to end. But he knew that it had to.

In the morning, she was getting on a plane.

“Shall we head back, d’ye think? It’s been a long day,” he said quietly, pulling her out of the daydream that she was sat in. She turned to face him with a dreamy smile on her face as she nudged his shoulder with her head.

“The best day,” she said simply. “Let’s go.”

They walked the short distance back to their hotel in silence, neither of them needing to fill it with words as they just existed in each other’s company. When they got to their hotel room, he made light work of pulling off his hoodie and collapsed onto his twin bed with the remote in his hand as she shut herself in the bathroom, the lock gently clicking behind her. Jamie ran a hand over his tired face and tried to concentrate on the tv. He had an ear for languages, being the proud new owner of a First in Modern Languages and Linguistics from Oxford, but the rules of Dutch seemed to be far removed from that of the French and German, and a little Italian, that naturally clicked together in his brain.

He strained to listen in an attempt to isolate some of the sounds, let his mind create patterns and try to fill in the gaps but he was tired and gave up quickly, punching the pillow that was under his head to prop up his neck a little further so that he could look out of the window. He heard the bathroom door unlock.

That was when he saw her. Really saw her for the first time. And it wasn’t because he could see more of her skin than he had ever seen before but because of the look that was painted on her face. Her beautiful face radiating a vulnerability and softness that he had never seen the depths of before, never as unguarded as she was in that moment. She smiled shyly at him and her hand came to cover her bare stomach slightly. Panic clutched at Jamie’s chest as he watched her wall build itself back up.

He was on his feet before he even knew it, pulling her hand back down to her side and lacing their fingers together.

It was always easier if they touched.

“What are ye doin’, Claire?” He tried to keep his voice soft, to not let the need he was feeling flow out in every word. She blushed and ducked her head, as though looking him in the eye would break the spell.

“I just thought…” she trailed off before defiantly bringing her head up and fixing him with a stare. “I can’t stand the idea of you having your first time with someone who doesn’t appreciate you.”

She had sounded strong and sure but Jamie’s head was birling. He took a step closer to her, so close that he could feel her breath on his chest and looked down at her body, barely an inch of space between them. The swell of her breasts were contained by a lace bra, a lilac so soft that it made her pale skin look like ivory against it. She was wearing matching underwear, just a scrap of material really, and his cock twitched at the thought of what she must look like from behind. The amazing arse of his best friend that he had shamefully lusted after for so long.

He raised the hand that wasn’t tangled with hers to hover over her heart, not quite touching the skin but watching as the goosebumps appeared anyway. She let out a shaky breath through perfectly pursed lips and he knew then what she was doing, the gift that she was giving him. Because she knew or at the very least suspected how he felt about her. She’d have to be blind not to see it.

She was saying goodbye.

“Claire… lass, we dinna have to do this. You dinna have to do this for me,” he whispered but he barely managed to get the words out before she popped up on her toes and closed the gap between them.

For a moment, they stood still. Neither of them moved a muscle for fear of breaking whatever magic had been cast over them. But then his mouth moved instinctively, applying pressure to her lips in an attempt to open them so his tongue could reacquaint itself with hers, so many years since they first kissed. He heard her, felt her, sigh softly and that was all the proof that he needed to wrap his arms around her and pin her to his chest, his mouth greedily seeking hers. Her hands found his face and thinking that she meant to push him away, he immediately let her go and took a step back from her, breath bursting from his lungs.

“I’m so sorry, lass, I didnae mean to get carried away-“

“Jamie, stop. You’re overthinking this,” she interrupted him by pressing her body back to his and put a steady hand on his cheek, his face leaning in to press a kiss to her open palm. The reality of the situation filled him. When the sun came up the next day, she would pack her things and they would travel to the airport to say goodbye. His chest tightened and he exhaled heavily, trying to take a steadying breath but it shattered in his throat and he tried to suck another in. Noticing that he was beginning to panic, Claire urged him to look at her. “It’s just me, Jamie, it’s us. Do you want this? Do you want me?”

“Oh God, yes.”

Their mouths snapped back together and all was right with the world. He couldn’t stop touching her, desperate to elicit sounds from her that she had kept hidden from him for so many years, ones that he thought he’d never have the privilege of hearing. An errant thought passed through his head, that maybe he should feel nervous about his first time, about not satisfying her, but the way that she was reacting to his kiss put his mind at ease. He would take everything in, commit everything to memory and be attentive to what she seemed to like and not like. She was terrible at lying, his Sassenach, and he was secure in the knowledge that he already knew her better than anyone else on this earth.

He was pulled from his thoughts at the feeling of her hands on his zipper and he groaned into their kiss as her hand brushed against his painfully hard cock through the thick material of his jeans. Everything was happening too fast and at the same time, not fast enough. He wished to be utterly consumed by her, to share something that neither of them would ever be able to take back. Something that he knew he would carry with him until the day he died.

Claire’s skilled fingers divested him of his jeans and he refused to break their kiss as he wriggled out of them, swallowing her giggles when she realised what he was up to. He ran his hands from her hips up the soft planes of her body, feeling her delicate ribs under her skin and brushing around the lace of her bra to where it joined in the back. Whether it was intuition or he fact that he practically ripped the clasp apart in blind need, he had no idea, but his fingers fumbled less than he had anticipated.

“I want to see you too,” she whispered against his lips, pulling his t-shirt over his head in one quick movement before she fixed him with a stare, licked her tongue down the palm of her hand as Jamie’s eyes widened in disbelief before her hand disappeared into the waistband of his boxers.

“Christ,” he shuddered, screwing his eyes shut in an attempt to contain the feel of her warm, wet hand on his cock. Her grip was firm on him as his jaw hung open and she greedily claimed his mouth once more as she quickened the pace.

When her mouth disappeared from his, Jamie opened his eyes in confusion to see that she’d dropped to her knees in front of him, her index fingers taking the fabric of his boxers on the same descent. The sight alone nearly undid him but it was nothing compared to the heat that enveloped him as she took him inside her mouth. Fingers immediately threaded through her hair, he squeezed his eyes shut with a gasp as she took him as far back as she could, which was no small task given the size of him. His mind betrayed him with a memory of Annalise trying her hardest but he was never truly convinced that she had wanted to do it, suspecting that she felt like it was an obligation which meant that Jamie could never really enjoy the act. As though she knew that his mind had wandered, Claire’s fingers gripped him tightly as her mouth kept a steady rhythm and his hips jerked forwards instinctively. An attempt at a stuttered apology was on the tip of his tongue but she beat him to it, moaning around him and sending delicious vibrations down his length. Knees buckling slightly at the sensation, Claire’s whisky eyes peered up at him, her lips plump and wet and with a hollowing of her cheeks and a hard suck, she sent him crashing over the edge, moaning her name as he did.

As the stars that had burst into his vision began to fade, he fought to get his breath back, feeling the brush of her body as she got up from her knees.

“Did that feel good?” She whispered as he nodded furiously, bumping their noses together in his enthusiasm. She laughed quietly and went back to kissing him, the feeling of her smile on his lips.

“It was amazing,” he told her. “Thank you.”

She laughed at his earnest gratitude, “I know how you can make it up to me.”

Taking his hand and leading the both of them towards her bed, Claire didn’t allow for too much space to come between their bodies as she lay back and pulled him down with her. Jamie’s mind raced as the sight. How many times had he imagined this? And how pitiful his imagination had been when conjuring it, missing the exquisite details like the way her her skin trembled at his touch and the softness of the sole her foot trailing up the back of his calf as he lay on top of her.

He knew that he was the luckiest man alive as he kissed down her body and a found a freckle on the inside of her thigh. To know the secret parts of her, to have her share them with him when she kept everyone else at arm’s length. How could he not be in love with her?

“Touch me, Jamie.”

He knew that those were the words that would wake him in a sweat for the years to come as he revisited this moment in his dreams. Hearing them fall from her throat was a blessing and he wasn’t one to squander such an invitation. He was trying to be gentle with her so as to not scare her off but in that moment, his trembling fingers became sure and shredded through the thin lace of her underwear, ripping them from her body with a deep growl that he didn’t know he was capable of producing. He felt her body melt into the mattress as his middle finger found her wet centre, her legs quivering in response.

“Oh, my Claire… how beautiful you feel,” he whispered as she moaned loudly, pushing her hips towards him in an attempt to receive more attention. His warm hand left her and closed around her hipbone as he kept her at a distance, blue eyes blazing into whisky ones with so much love that it made her mouth water. Not breaking eye contact, his fingers flexed around her hip, holding her in place as he brought his mouth to her core.

Claire threw her head back against the pillow, mouth agape.

“What the fuck,” she gasped. He had told her that he wasn’t entirely green behind the ears but it was nice to hear the shock in her voice as he set his tongue to work. Within minutes Claire’s body was writhing, one hand fisted in the bedsheets like she was holding on for dear life. It still wasn’t enough and so he shifted his arms underneath her, running them up the length of her back and pulling her closer into his mouth. She squeaked with surprise as she settled her weight onto her shoulders, trusting that Jamie’s strength would hold her steady as he relentlessly licked and nipped at her.

“Jamie, I’m-“

Claire was unable to finish as her words were replaced by a loud moan, Jamie’s growl indicating that he was not willing to let her go without knowing what it felt like for her lose herself on his tongue.

Fingers gripping his curls, Claire pulled slightly and he felt her entire body go rigid as she tried to control the feelings that were coursing through her body. Jamie slid two fingers into her and lightly flicked his tongue against her, holding her steady as she began to convulse in his arms. He was fascinated to learn that she didn’t make a sound, only screwed her eyes shut and let her mouth hang open as she rolled her hips against him, riding out her orgasm.

When he felt her shy away from his tongue, he gave her a final kiss and moved up towards her, delighting in the way that she curled her hand around the back of his neck and brought his mouth down to hers, tasting herself on his lips.

“Not a monk indeed,” she laughed breathily as she ran her fingers through her hair, her eyes shutting slightly as the aftershocks ran through her.

“I’m a man of many talents, if I do say so myself.”

“I wonder what else you’re good at,” she raised a single eyebrow above a pair of seductive eyes and Jamie took the opportunity to press his renewed erection against her thigh.

“Only one way to find out, I suppose.”

Her hands sought out his body again, as though they were always meant to be touching and she moaned a little when she felt that he was hard so soon after his orgasm.

“We can stop here, Jamie. This is your choice. Whatever you want.”

“I want ye so much, I can scarcely breathe. Will ye have me?”

“Yes,” she sighed deliriously, “Yes, I’ll have you.”

“Come here to me, Jamie,” she whispered as she took him in hand and lead him to her opening. He steeled himself, taking a deep breath and basking in the look of wonder on her face, soon replaced by a quiet, exquisite joy as he pushed himself home for the first time.

She was like velvet. Impossibly soft and hot, wet with her need and it was all he could manage not to immediately race to his finish, to take her with a force and a desperation that he knew was painted on his features. With the strength of an army, he stilled himself and raised his face to hers, nearly coming undone when their eyes met.

Claire had never looked at him like that. Her cheeks were flushed from her pleasure, her pupils blown wide and stunned. His soul was laid open to her and hers to him. And he knew that his face showed the unfathomable depth of his love for her, incapable of hiding it when they were joined like this.

Jamie could have stayed that way forever but his physiology had other ideas, his hips responsively snapping into hers. She moaned and tilted her hips to meet him, raising a knee upwards to cradle his side and deepen the angle of him inside of her. Jamie was completely unaware that something could feel this good and he lowered his head to capture her lips as he began to rock his hips against hers.

All worries that he may have had left him when he watched the way she responded to his body, her fingertips digging into the muscles of his biceps until he was sure that they would bruise. She was panting and moaning beneath him, making tiny movements with her body that produced huge waves of sensation in his. He was so distracted by his own pleasure that the first time she clenched lightly around him, he wasn’t even sure that it had happened. Looking down at her, he mimicked the movement with his hips and earned himself another wonderful contraction coupled with an urgent moan that ripped from her chest.

He slowed his pace, not wanting to be undone before she reached her peak and moved his fingers to her mouth which she accepted greedily. Screwing his eyes shut at the sensation, he trailed his hand down her body to the place where they joined and lightly found the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex. She convulsed, eyes snapping open in pleasure and he wished for the hundredth time that he could drown in them.

As his fingers began to stroke her, he watched as her body changed from pliant and soft to frantic and needy. Her hands moved to his arse and pulled him into her, keening at the feeling of his cock coupled by the pleasure that he was seeking in her from his fingers.

“You’re going to make me come, Jamie,” she sobbed in surprise and he doubled down his efforts to find it for her, to let her chase her pleasure before he gave in to his own. What a gift to be able to feel the way her body reacted to his, to know how it felt when she came close to her orgasm. Her tight muscles fluttered around him as he watched the flat plane of her stomach clench in an attempt to control the pleasure that was crashing through her body. It was all too much.

“Give me your mouth, Sassenach,” he gasped as he sealed his mouth to hers, their tongues hungrily seeking the other. It was the moment of combustion when they finally met and her body convulsed once more before she began to shake uncontrollably, noises coming from her that he never thought he’d hear. It was everything he needed in that moment as he began to pour himself into her, unable to stop the frantic jerk his hips as he experienced a blinding white pleasure that he’d never felt before.

Only just managing to shift his body so that he didn’t collapse his entire weight onto her, Jamie rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling as he waited for his heart rate to slow. He was hyper aware of Claire’s body beside him, of the rise and fall of her chest as she descended from waves of pleasure that he had elicited in her. He’d expected for his mind to be running a hundred miles a minute but all he felt was serenity. In that moment, the world was exactly as it should be.

“Christ,” Jamie huffed, unable to stop the air bursting from his lungs. The question fell out of him before he had a chance to stop it. “Is it always like that?”

He didn’t look at her, couldn’t force his eyes to look at her face in case he didn’t like what he saw. But his eyes began to drift closed at the feeling of Claire curling her naked body around his, bringing a bent leg to rest over his abdomen and her hair splaying on his chest.

“No, it isn’t.”

#light across the seas that severed #clan donnachaidh #ao3 #outlander fanfic #jamie fraser #Claire beauchamp #outlander #modern au

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ijustwant2write · 4 years

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Different Worlds-Fred Weasley x Muggle! Reader

(GIF credit to @avocadosalad2)

Masterlist

Prompts List

Requested by anonymous: 'Could you do a Fred Weasley after the war imagine (where he doesn’t die) and he falls in love with a muggle'

Summary: (Y/N) may be a muggle, but she was introduced to the hidden magical world once she realised her best friend was a witch. Years later, after they have both graduated, she finds herself drawn towards the magic, as well as a particular person.

Characters: Fred Weasley x Reader, George Weasley x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Lots and lots of fluff

(A/N: Beatrice is a made up character)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As I stirred the milk into the mug of tea, I continued listening to Beatrice babble on about the rude man on the train, who had insisted that she was sat in his seat, when she had clearly reserved it. I smiled, picking up the mugs and heading back into the living room, handing one to her. She blew on it, testing how hot it was before taking a tiny sip.

“But anyway, enough about twats in London.” Bea waved her hand.“I’ve got some exciting news!”

“Yeah? What is it?” I put down my own mug, ready to squeal and jump about with her.

“You know that shop I had my eye on?”

“The one in um...oh what’s it called? Diagonal street?”

She laughed.“Diagon Alley.”

“Ah, right.”

“Anyway, I went for another viewing the other week, and I got a letter through this morning to say that it is now mine!”

I grabbed her hands, squeezing them.“That’s fantastic! Oh my god, you’ve been wanting your own shop since we were kids!”

“I know! I’ve already had new flooring put down, it’s just been painted too. Now all that’s left is to organise how I want the furniture and to put stock out on display.”

Bea had always loved her fashion when she was younger. She would always complain about how basic her uniform was (even pointing out how boring muggle uniform was as well), and always added different accessories or made her own clothes. This hobby carried on, she became a great seamstress (the magic probably helped), knowing that this was something she wanted to do. Now she was opening a clothes shop that would also sell things like accessories, notebooks, pens etc.

“I’m so happy for you.” I hugged her.

“You know, I am going to need help moving in...”

“Wait, you want me to come with you?”

Bea nodded.

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“No, don’t be silly! You’re with me, and you’re only visiting. Plus you’ve known about all of this since we were twelve. I haven’t used the Obliviate spell on you, and I’m still not in trouble.”

“Sorry, you haven’t what?”

“Don’t worry about it. So, you want to accompany me to little old Diagon Alley?”

A couple of days later, Beatrice visited me again, leading me out of my little flat and onto the tube. We practically had to go to the other side of London, making me feel bad when she visited me all those times. When we finally got off, and after walking for another ten minutes, we stood in front of an abandoned building stuck between a record and book shop. Glancing at Bea, who was staring at the uninviting building, I wondered what I had got myself into.

“Uh, Bea, we’re not going in there are we?” I asked as she dragged me towards it.

“Just trust me.”

She pushed open the door, which made a worrying creaking noise, and I was scared that if we shut it too hard, the whole place would collapse. However, instead of a dusty room with broken floor boards and bending beams, we seemed to be in a pub. There were a few people already in here, sat at various tables with their drinks. A worker walked past, waving their hand which made some scattered chairs tuck underneath the table. My eyes widened as I watched, realising that I had stepped into a different world. Beatrice laughing at me brought me back into reality as she held onto my hand again.

“Alright Tom?” She called out to the bartender.

“Ah, here once again Beatrice? Oh, this the muggle you were on about?” he replied as he leaned against the bar.

“Yep, this is she. I’m taking her to the shop, which I now own!”

“Ah, congratulations! Head on back then.”

They said their goodbyes and I was being steered away again, this time outside. There was a wall blocking us, and to anyone else it would be a dead end, but I knew something was about to happen. Bea revealed her wand, tapping it around a part of the wall where bricks were missing. Stepping back, my eyes widened as the bricks started moving, separating to reveal a busy street.

“Oh, this is just too precious. Wish I had captured the moment.” Bea said.

I must have stuck out like a sore thumb; I couldn’t shut my mouth, checking out everything around me, eyebrows furrowing as my mind tried to comprehend how this was possible. Men and women passed me in long robes, some sporting the stereotypical witches hats. There were broomsticks, animals such as owls and cats, things floating by me. My brain was well and truly frazzled.

As we came to Bea’s new shop, I was still in awe, my eyes landing on a bright orange shop, with an animatronic of a man who was putting on a top hat. I could see lots of younger children in there. Explosions of light appeared, objects were flying around, I could hear the laughter across the street.

“Kind of hard to miss right?” Bea giggled as she unlocked the shop.

“Yeah. Looks amazing in there.”

“That’s Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. I went to school with the guys who own it. Onto more important matters, after you.”

I walked into the shop, grinning as I looked around. It wasn't huge, but it had a vintage look to it; the floor was a dark wood, and the walls were painted a lighter cream colour to contrast it. Currently it was empty, in one corner were mannequins, display tables and railings to hang the clothes on.

"I've got everything mapped out, I just need to move bits around." Bea said.

"It's going to look great when it's finished. I bet you're so excited to open."

"Are you OK by the way? I just realised how much this must all be."

"I love it here! I'm surrounded by magic, what more could I want?"

We spent the next few hours moving the furniture around, trying out new things to see what worked, where it would be best to display the stock. People passed by the window in large groups, but now there were less, the sun was going down, and shop owners were starting to close up. We followed suit, putting everything back in the corner before leaving the shop.

"Hello neighbour." a man called out across the street.

We turned around, seeing a tall man in a suit outside of the shop I noticed upon arrival.

"Oh, I forgot I would be seeing you every day." Bea groaned, obviously joking.

"You don't have to lie to me, we're one of the reasons you bought the place."

Bea began walking towards him, I followed behind."Fred, this is (Y/N). She's a friend of mine."

"Nice to meet you." he smiled.

"You too." I replied, wishing I didn't sound so quiet.

"Already got your staff sorted then?"

"(Y/N)'s an old friend of mine. I had to show her the shop. And Diagon Alley."

Fred caught on, realising that I wasn't a witch."Oh, right. Welcome to the other side."

"Thanks. It's been amazing so far."

“Well, it couldn’t have been that good, I didn’t see you in our shop today.”

“He’s so humble, isn’t he?” Bea rolled her eyes.“Well, that’s just another reason for her to come tomorrow, isn’t it?”

“I look forward to seeing you then.” Fred casually winked before saying goodbye to us both, realising his name was being called from the shop.

“OK, what just happened?” I gasped, feeling extremely flushed.

“Those Weasley boys are natural flirts. But that was very interesting.”

“There’s more of them?!”

Bea just shook her head, looping her arms through mine as she lead me away from the shop, telling (not asking) me to return with her again tomorrow. I didn’t hesitate to say yes.

With Bea unaware, I had immediately gone to choose an outfit for the next day as soon as I made it home. I just wanted to look a little more presentable, it definitely wasn’t because I wanted to present myself well in front of anyone. Once I had decided on a casual outfit, though something that still showed I had put some effort in, I settled down for the night, lying on the sofa with my dinner. Even with the TV on in the background, I couldn’t concentrate on the programme. It felt strange to be back in my world, not surrounded by magic. I was half expecting objects in my flat to start moving by themselves.

Bea had told me about her being a witch when she received her letter to Hogwarts. I wasn’t supposed to know, especially at a young age, but Beatrice had been so scared to lose our friendship. Her parents were muggles, so where the magic came from was a mystery. I missed her extremely, hating that Hogwarts was a boarding school. But once Bea was old enough to use magic outside of school, she graced me with all the spells she learnt, it was so enchanting to watch. Bea had returned to the muggle world for a few years once she finished her education, but now that her dream of owning a shop was coming true, she wouldn’t be living near me anymore; that’s what was really weighed on my mind.

Bea and I returned to her shop the next morning. I didn’t mention anything of my thoughts from the night before, not wanting to ruin the day. Seeing the other shop owners setting up for the day set a different atmosphere, some who were outside greeted us along the way. Bea got out her keys, but hesitated.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, suddenly worried.

“Nothing. I just think we should pay my fellow businessmen a visit.” she said, a wide smile on her face.

“No, cause you’ll just embarrass me!” I whined.

“No I won’t. Honestly, you need to see their shop, it’s bizarre.”

I knew she had a scheme planned, but part of me wanted to go along with it. As we approached, I glanced at my reflection in the window, tucking away any strands of hair that had fallen out of my up-do. Before we could knock on the door, Fred appeared, swinging it wide open.

“Ah, our most loyal customers are here.” He grinned letting us in.

“Good morning George.” Bea waltzed in.

Oh, this was his twin.

“Fred has told me all about you, (Y/N), right?” George extended his hand.

I shook it as I nodded.“Yes, Sorry, I forgot you there were two of you for a moment.”

“Double trouble is what they are.” Bea mumbled.

“Welcome to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes!” he exclaimed, presenting grandly with his arm.

Cautiously walking around, I ducked out of the way as a Frisbee flew past me, smiling at what looked like mini fireworks before scrunching my nose up at a box labelled ‘Puking Pastels’. I explored everywhere, going upstairs to search further. The amount of jokes and prank items they had seemed endless. Looking over the railing, I saw Bea chatting away to George. It made me wonder where Fred was, but that question was soon answered.

“Do you come here often?” Fred slid up to me, leaning beside me on the railing.

I chuckled.“Funnily enough, this is my first time here. And did you really just use that line on me?”

“Works every time.” he winked, causing me to look away as I blushed.

“This shop is amazing Fred.” I sighed in content.“Are those really Love Potions down there?”

“Ah, caught your eye?”

“I mean, how could it not? Doesn’t everyone want a love potion to make their lives so much easier?”

“It’s not permanent. Besides, falling in love is the fun part.”

I didn’t question if he had been in love. It was too soon to be asking things such as that.

Fred continued.“Can’t believe Bea waited so long to bring you here. She talks about you all the time.”

“She does?”

“Yep. I probably know more about you than you think.”

My eyes widened jokingly.“I don’t know if that’s good or not.”

“It’s very good, trust me.”

“I don’t think I would ever want to leave now. Couldn’t stop smiling when I was home.”

Fred opened his mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by Bea calling up to us.“Come on you two, it’s my turn now.”

Not knowing what she meant, we headed downstairs, realising that Bea wanted to show the twins her shop. Making our way across the road, Fred and I walked behind the others as they continued talking, even as Bea unlocked the shop.

“I mean, you’ve still got quite a bit of work to do Bea.” George joked as they walked around the empty space.

“I know that. But that’s why I have (Y/N) here to help me.” She smiled at me.

“It’s a good space. You got everything planned?” Fred asked.

“Yeah, we moved the furniture around a few times yesterday, so I’ve got options. And of course I had my wonderful assistant to help.”

“She didn’t even buy me a drink after.” I said.

“I can pay you.”

“What? Don’t be silly.”

“No, I’m serious. Because I need to know if I have to put you on the payroll.”

“Bea, what are you saying?”

She grinned but I could see she was nervous.“How would you like to work here with me?”

My mouth dropped wide open, eyes bulging out of my head. I was shocked, speechless even. Out of the corner of my eye I saw George nudge his brother, smirking at him as Fred looked annoyed.

“Oh, this is making me anxious.” Bea whispered, gripping her hands together despite her happy expression.

“You really want me to work here? But where would I live?”

“With me obviously!”

“Is that allowed?”

“Yes, I checked. Oh (Y/N) please, you always say you’re not happy with your job and that you want to live somewhere nicer.”

“I’ve never said that.”

“OK, but I can tell you’re not entirely happy.”

I took a deep breath as I smiled.“Bea, I would love to work here.” She squealed, running towards me and throwing out her arms, embracing me tightly. I squeezed her back, feeling very emotional. Bea wanted me here. She trusted me to live in this world of hers, she wanted to share her dream with me.

“Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.” George said as Bea and I ended the hug.

“Looks like.” I wiped my eyes, hoping I didn’t look like a sap for crying.

“Right,” Bea put her hands on her hips,“well, we best get on with the day. Catch you boys later?”

They nodded, already making their way out. Bea smiled at me one last time, disappearing into the backroom. As I looked around the space, I noticed Fred still by the door, hesitating to walk out.

“You alright there Fred?” I asked, approaching him.

“Yeah...um,” he closed the door, coming inside again,“so,now that you’re living here, once you’re settled that is....do you fancy going out sometime?”

I was taken back, flustered which caused me to stutter.“Uh, y-yeah, I-I would love to!”

He nodded, pleased with the answer.“Good, it’s a date then.”

I awkwardly waved as he left, watching him enter his own shop. He turned around, seeing me still looking, sending yet another wink my way. He already knew how to embarrass me. Feeling my heart flutter, I slowly turned around, only to see Bea standing there.

“Oh, I am so good at playing Cupid.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter one shot #harry potter x reader #george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley one shot #george weasley x reader

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kendo413 · 3 years

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ValVarez headcanons pt 1

Here are Judy/Fem!V (or ValVarez as I have started calling them in my head) headcanons that kind of took on a narrative, and then kind of lost the plot along the way. These were the result of possibly the worst migraine of my life. I needed a distraction, so I started typing up some headcanons I thought of for the streetkid!V I was playing at the time, and then kept expanding it until I could finally fall asleep.

I will try say there are some spoilers for the game in here, and I will try to hide them under the fold or whatever. None of this is likely unique at this point, so if anything feels like it should be in your fic, have at it. Will be at least two parts after I realized just how much I had typed up during the migraine.

Something is off about this Merc. She isn't posturing, or boasting - she doesn't even seem to be wearing clothes that fit. When she speaks Judy can reluctantly admit that she does so without even a trace of guile.

The merc - V - is a BD virgin. Judy was confused about this turn, to say the least. Not many make it to her age, or at least as old as V appears to be, without at least making use of an educational BD.

Judy has never seen someone as strong as V, or at least, not someone with 'ganic limbs. Even the Animals probably haven't put as much steroid-free effort into their body as V clearly has. Judy has a lot of opportunity to admire her while V is in the test BD.

Evelyn has to convince V not to bolt from the chair the second the trial BD concludes. The merc shifts with anxious energy, looking a little green around the gills, and any doubts Judy had that V may have been lying about being a BD virgin go right out the window. She is intrigued, despite herself.

A netrunner is brought in, and Judy spends the whole of the Konpeki BD scowling at her monitors.

Not many people say "Thank you" in Night City. Somehow it fits that V, the big bad merc that she is, makes a point to say thanks despite how nauseas the BD experience has clearly made her. Maybe it was a mistake to give her that BD wreath.

Evelyn thinks she's sweet, and Judy is all too quick to remind her of her terrible judgement when it comes to people. Present company excluded of course.

Judy thinks this is all a terrible idea. Capable or not, nothing good can come from putting faith in the candid merc. Evie insists that V is an adorable murder machine regardless.

Judy was right in the end. She wasn't happy about it though. Not when Evelyn went back to Clouds a few days later.

V is back, Evelyn is missing, and they need each other right now. Judy doesn't have to like it.

It was terrifying to watch V work. Like a switch flipped and all of the restless, shifting energy she returned from wherever-the-fuck with was exchanged for focus.

V is uncommonly fast as well as strong, apparently. Her blade sings through the air with merciless precision, and her footsteps only make noise when she wants them to. V is is like a vengeful specter, and Judy is glad they're on the same side.

V enjoys her work, and seems more alive than ever leaving a trail of scav bodies behind her. She also stops to check every broken and discarded corpse along the way to make sure it isn't Evie's so that Judy doesn't have to.

After they rescue Evelyn and bring her safely to Judy's apartment, Judy realizes she can still hear the echoes of screams and gunfire left over from the rescue. She can't feel an ounce of remorse even now, hours after V sent heads and limbs flying as they hacked their way to Evelyn.

Judy is grateful to V for the care she's shown. For listening to Judy's direction in the scroller den, for saving Evelyn's interrogation for another day despite how desperate she was to find the Doll when they first made contact. For the first time, Judy feels ashamed of her snap judgement of V. Yes, her clothes never match or even fit her on any of the occasions they've interacted, and yeah, she has personally watched V pick up a discarded can of Chromanticore and finish it off, but she is also kinder than anyone Judy has met in years.

Evelyn is dead, and V is the only one she can call. V who is terrible with words but somehow knows exactly what to say to help Judy focus on the important things. She's helpful, and trying so hard to keep them both together.

V distracts her when the badges come. Tells her about meeting Jackie - how he shoved a gun in her face, then brought her home for lunch a few hours later. By the time they leave Judy isn't in cuffs, so the distraction must have helped.

Judy begins making plans. Wallowing in sadness never helped anyone in this city.

She's getting the feeling that V may have a crush on her. She also gets the feeling that V didn't like whatever she found while snooping on Maiko's comp, if the line of not-subtle-at-all questions as they leave are any indication.

They kill Woodman, and Judy doesn't feel any better. V tries her best to help, and it's the earnestness that Judy once found so off-putting that helps more than the words themselves.

V checks in on Judy in between jobs. She sends pictures from the Badlands that she thinks Judy would like to see. Judy ignores the way it bothers her to see some other woman in the background of more than a few.

Maiko makes it clear that she doesn't want the "freak merc" anywhere near this revolution. Judy is extra pleased to inform her that V is a vital, non-negotiable part of the mission.

V is dying, and Judy feels like someone pulled the rug out from under her. She thought V was being dramatic the first time she said so, but now she knows better. V falls asleep on her couch while Judy tells her about the unsuccessful line of BD blooper reels Sue had her work on a few months back.

V invites Judy to El Coyote Cojo a few days later for dinner. Rather, she invites Judy to Mama Welles's place for dinner, because V can't cook to save her life.

Mama Welles has endless stories about V and Jackie's misadventures. Judy is impressed that neither of them ended up in jail based on the amount of times they've had to pull each other out of the fire. By the end of the night, Mama Welles insists Judy call her when she needs to.

Sometimes, on a particularly bad night, Judy idly wonders how many people V has murdered that day. It seems she is always finding trouble to get into the middle of even just walking down the street. She doesn't want a number, but on very bad days it comforts her to know that if nothing else, they all at least had it coming. Maybe the world is a little bit better because V is in it, doing her thing.

V disappears without a trace for a few days. No pictures, no texts, not even a blip on the street about that sword wielding merc jumping into save some random citizens from gang violence. Judy tries not to worry but ends up going through a whole pack of cigs anyway.

Judy ends up calling Mama Welles who reassures her that V is probably just sick. V gets sick a lot with the way she eats whatever she finds but it's a habit they've not been able to break. Judy still can't reach V on the holo, but she does get an invite to dinner so she at least has company in her worry.

When V reappears, she is only slightly worse for wear and closed off about her whereabouts. Rumors start to surface about a massacre in a Pacifica church, and Judy doesn't ask.

Despite Maiko's best efforts, Clouds is liberated. Judy visits Evelyn's niche to tell her it's done, and finds V has left her cigarette case there.

Judy begins planning something new.

Judy gets a call from V, but not V. Panam on V's holo, the woman in the background of the photos. Panam is rude, but seems terrified and keeps going off on tangents about how V doesn't even have a security pin on her holo. "Doesn't she realize how dangerous it is when anyone can just access all her shit if she loses it?"

V is getting worse, and Judy feels helpless when all she can really tell Panam is to let V sleep it off. Panam thanks Judy for "being so helpful, truly appreciate the insight." If Judy weren't so sure Panam was V's output, she would admire how much "Fuck you" the feisty woman managed to inject into every syllable.

V stops by late the next day and apologizes for Panam. Judy suspects it's on Panam's advice when V not-so-subtly insists, on six separate occasions during the visit, that she and Panam are just friends.

Later, Panam calls Judy herself and apologizes. Judy makes a joke about V surrounding herself with temperamental women, which sets off teasing on Panam's followed by bickering between the nomads Judy wasn't aware could hear them chatting. She thinks she understands what V sees in Panam, now. It must feel like coming home, having to pull Panam out of the fires she creates after losing Jackie.

Judy invites V to Laguna Bend, and aside from V nearly drowning, the evening is perfect.

#valvarez #judy x v #cyberpunk 2077 #headcanon #judy alvarez x v

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abbysfrenchbraid · 4 years

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Little Harbor - Beach Day Part 2

Thank you all for the lovely feedback on my writing so far, it means so much to me. I’ve decided that the Beach Day Imagine needed a Part 2 and spent last night manically writing 6.6k words of fluff, angst and semi smut.

In this part, Abby and the reader finally make their trip to Little Harbor and spend the night at the cabin there. The reader finds out they don’t know everything about Abby and there are some things in her past that still weigh heavily on her mind.

TW for death/loss (Seattle plot for the Salt Lake Squad), light nudity, language and mention of suicide and mention of blood

This ist the playlist I curated for this fic. Make sure you disable shuffle and listen to the songs in order for them to fit! (It’s called Little Harbor on Spotify and has a picture of Abby in the thumbnail)

Little Harbor

The last few days had been a blur of happiness and secrecy. Stolen kisses in empty hallways, sitting next to each other in the cafeteria with your knees touching, sunsets in the watchtower staircase, and sweaty hugs whenever you picked up Abby after her morning training. It was clear to you by now that there was no going back and no stopping this. You were absolutely, hopelessly falling for the tall blonde soldier and she actually seemed to feel the same, which was still unbelievable to you.

Abby had taken up work with some of the combat and strategy trainers, educating them on the different groups she had encountered on her journey and on their territory, tactics, and relationships with each other. Lev had come in to explain more about the Seraphites, their whistle language, and their infrastructure. Even though it was unlikely that the Seraphites or WLF would come knocking at the Fireflies’ door, they still wanted to know as much as possible about the current state of the world.

The Rattlers were a different story altogether. Lev refused to speak about them and even though Abby had told the Firefly leaders about them as soon as she was conscious after her emergency surgeries, there was still much to talk about. She tried as hard as she could to remember every little detail and she got incredibly frustrated with herself when she found gaps in her memory even though that wasn’t her fault. The torture and mistreatment at the hands of these bastards had been so immensely traumatizing that her mind refused to let her remember the worst parts.

While the past few days with her had been all fun and exciting, the evenings had been more difficult and it had taken a lot of strength from both of you to get through this together. Abby was just learning to confide in you and talk about her feelings while you struggled with being there for her the right way, having never experienced anything close to the terror she must have felt. After the first day in the strategy room, Abby had knocked on your door just as you were about to go to bed and practically fallen apart in your arms. The Fireflies had decided to send a few teams back to Santa Barbara to see if there were any survivors and capture or help the people they found, depending on their previous alliance. They had offered Abby to go back with them, which she declined, and made it clear that she had to try to identify every single person they brought back.

You just hoped that the only people left there were the other prisoners who had freed themselves. It would be horrifying to know that some of the torturers could soon be sitting somewhere in this very building, practically at arm’s reach from Abby and Lev.

Although the others had advised her not to, Abby had told Lev about all the plans and tasks to come and he had agreed to help identifying people but remained silent about his thoughts on all this.

Trying your best to make Abby’s first week as an official Firefly less hard on her, you had organized a mission for you both to go to Little Harbor. You were supposed to check up on the little cabin there, throw out anything that wasn’t necessary and stock it with a few supplies in case someone in the area needed them in the future. The best thing about Little Harbor was the beautiful beach that stretched in a perfect arc and had the most beautiful sunsets you had ever seen.

You had just talked to your friend in admin and gotten the confirmation for the mission. For a second, you debated telling Abby at lunch in an hour but you simply couldn’t wait. Rolling up the note with the assignment on it and shoving it in your back pocket, you rushed toward the east wing of the base, practically jumping with every step.

As you came closer to the strategy room, you heard muffled voices. There seemed to be a heated discussion. You really didn’t want to eavesdrop, but you were already at the door and didn’t feel like you should knock and interrupt them in the middle of their conversation.

“Oh come on, Abby, what are you not telling us? You have to know more about her than that!”

“I’m telling you, I don’t know where they lived and I don’t know where she is now! I met them the first time at the WLF outpost in the middle of nowhere around Seattle and the last time I saw her she was in Santa Barbara. She’s probably dead, anyway, she was injured and all alone.”

She? Who were they talking about? Abby had never told you about a woman in Santa Barbara. Maybe another prisoner?

Someone slammed a hand on the table.

“Jesus Christ, I can’t believe we lost her again after all this time. At least we know Joel paid for what he did at Salt Lake.”

This sparked your attention. You knew Abby had grown up at the Salt Lake outpost before the massacre. Was Joel the guy who killed all the Fireflies there, including the doctors?

“What do you want with her anyway?” That was Abby again. She sounded bitter. “It’s not like we have the means to make a vaccine, Joel made sure of that. You’ll see what she did with the rattlers when you get there. Maybe you’ll find her body, too, and I can finally have some fucking peace.”

There was silence for a brief moment. Then a woman said: “Alright, let’s take a break. The teams are driving out to Santa Barbara tomorrow, then we’ll see what we find. Abby, thank you for everything you’ve told us. Take some time for yourself, I’ll call for you when the reports are in and hopefully a few survivors, too. I’ll see the rest of you after lunch.”

You could hear feet shuffling and chairs being pushed around. Quickly, you tiptoed away from the door and halfway through the corridor, then you turned around just as the door opened. Abby came out first, frowning and with her hands balled into firsts. When she saw you, her face lit up and she relaxed, taking a few big steps towards you and awkwardly coming to a halt in front of you, just a little bit too close.

“Perfect timing, huh?” She smiled at you before nodding to a few others that passed you.

You forced yourself to focus and smiled back.

“Yeah, I came to tell you that our mission is approved. We can leave as soon as possible.”

“Oh, that’s great! Martha just said I could have the day off and probably need to report back in tomorrow night earliest. Should we just pack now and get going after lunch?”

“Good idea. Say we meet in the cafeteria in 15?” you suggested.

Abby nodded. “See you there.”

As you packed your backpack, you tried to process what you had just heard. Abby knew the man who had run amok at the Firefly Hospital and apparently he was dead now. There had been another woman in Santa Barbara, and she had something to do with a possible vaccine? You knew the Fireflies had been extremely invested in the search for a vaccine after the outbreak, but they had given up on it a long time ago. Now they just tried to build safe zones without any infected in order to build communities of Fireflies, other survivors, and anyone else who wanted to join you.

Why were the others so keen on finding the other woman? What did Abby have to do with Joel and the massacre at the hospital? And why was this whole thing still affecting her so badly after all those years?

You wanted to try to talk to Abby later and find out what had gone down in Santa Barbara and at Salt Lake, but you also knew she had been waiting for this day to finally come so she could get out of here and distract herself for a while. Who were you to ruin this by forcing her to relive her trauma all over again?

Closing the zipper on your backpack and throwing it over your shoulder, you decided to just take it a step at a time. First, you had to get some food into your stomach.

Abby was excited about the trip and spent almost the whole meal asking you questions about the bay and the cabin. She told you she had spent some time in cabins up in Washington with her old WLF crew, but it had been snowing back then and the summer here was just an entirely different experience.

Lev was a bit sad he couldn’t go with you, but you promised him a beach bonfire in the next two weeks. He was way too happy about his new friends and tasks to sulk about your little duo mission. The boy was a fantastic archer and was now tasked with teaching his craft to younger trainees and older soldiers. He was delighted at being taken so seriously by adults for the first time in his life. His lessons at school were going well apparently, he enjoyed history and biology a lot.

Abby was attentively listening to him talking about crop diversification and the produce grown here during the different seasons as a group of fully-equipped soldiers came into the cafeteria. They seemed excited about their mission and were making a ton of noise, jeering and shoving each other around as they picked up their rations for the next two days from the serving counter. Abby and Lev both went quiet, poking around in their food and seeming to be holding their breaths until the squad had left.

Lev suddenly looked up at Abby with tears in his eyes.

“Do you think any of the Rattlers survived?” His voice was high pitched and he sounded like he was about to choke.

“Oh, Lev.” The blonde put her arm around his shoulder, her hands looking huge on his small frame. “I have no idea, I’m so sorry. I’m pretty sure the other prisoners were freed and got their revenge. She also freed some of the walkers in the area. It must have been bad. We’ll just have to wait and see, but I promise they’ll never lay a hand on you ever again.”

There she was again, the mysterious woman. Now you’d at least have a valid reason to bring it up. The boy sighed, then he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and straightened up. He waved over to a few other kids waiting at the exit.

“I need to go. Math class.” He grimaced and you and Abby both had to laugh. No one enjoyed math, but a certain basic knowledge was necessary for everyone here.

“See you tomorrow, Lev. I’ll bring her back safely,” you promised him and Abby rolled her eyes at you, but he gave you a genuinely thankful nod before tapping her shoulder as a goodbye and running over to his friends.

Abby smiled at you, her eyes lighting up as she remembered your plans for the day.

“You ready to go?” she asked, standing up and grabbing her backpack.

“Let’s get out of here.” You put on your backpack as well, took your plates and placed them in a plastic tub next to the counter.

In the empty corridor leading to the garage, Abby snuck her fingers between yours, sending sparks over your skin and making butterflies dance in your stomach. She pulled you toward her and after a quick glance left and right, she gave you a soft peck on the lips. You reacted instantly, burying your fingers in her hair and pulling her in for a second kiss, this time less innocent. Abby chuckled and grabbed your shoulder to push you away just a few inches and look you in the eyes.

You felt yourself blush and rubbed a hand over your eyes.

“Ugh, sorry, I just missed you all morning. Let’s just go.”

Grabbing her hand and pulling her with you, you entered the garage and quickly said hello to your coworkers before checking out the keys and leading Abby to your truck. Your colleagues didn’t lose a single word about the hand-holding and you were thankful for their discretion. They were your closest friends at the base and they knew you’d tell them more as soon as you were ready.

The drive out to the cabin took about an hour, one which you spent in blissful silence. You had rolled the windows down again and just like the last time, the summer air was whirling through the cabin and playing with your hair. Abby let an arm hang out of her window and took in the view of the different hills and forest patches, the beaches, and the beautiful meadows. She looked serene, completely at peace with herself and the world.

When you arrived at the cabin, it was better than you had remembered. The little wooden cottage was still in good shape, firewood was stacked up at the back and there was a small front porch with a perfect view of the bay in front of you. Two wooden chairs and a table stood on the porch, completely grown over with moss.

You fumbled with the keys for a second, then you were inside. All the curtains were drawn, bathing the dusty room in heavy yellow light before you opened them and looked around. Abby was still standing at the doorstep, uncertain of what to do.

The room was perfectly equipped with a little kitchen unit, a table with four chairs, a worn-out striped couch, and a decently sized bed, luckily covered with a big sheet to stop it from getting unbearably dusty. A narrow door in the corner seemed to lead to a bathroom. You put your hands on your hips and turned to Abby.

“Well, what do you think? Too dusty for your liking?”

The blonde snapped out of her astonishment.

“Are you kidding me? Y/N, it’s great! It looks so cozy, I think I’m gonna sleep better than I have for months.” She took a few steps toward you and wrapped her hands around your waist. “Especially when I’m sleeping next to you.”

“Oh, I thought you were gonna take the couch,” you said dryly. Abby’s eyes widened and you could tell she seriously thought she had overstepped until you wrapped your arms around her neck and snorted, immediately receiving a playful push backward that you put up with by holding on to her for dear life.

“You’re an asshole,” she laughed, “I got scared there for a second!” She planted a kiss on your lips and picked you up by your waist, making you squeal.

“I’m sorry, Abby, ahh! Please let me down!” you begged but you had to admit this was fun. The taller woman gently put you back on your feet, then she said: “Come on, let’s get settled here.”

She opened the windows while you tried the tap unsuccessfully before pulling the cover off the bed and revealing buttercup yellow sheets. Sweet. Abby used a towel to wipe the dust off the table before setting her bag on it and offering to take yours as well. She put all the supplies in the kitchen cabinet before announcing that she was going to find you some water.

“When you go outside, there should be a pump on the left side of the house. Make sure to pump for a while until you touch the water, it’s got to be disgusting,” you said as you started sweeping the floor with a broom.

“Yeah, I know how a cistern works, thanks.” She rolled her eyes at you. A minute later, you could hear the squeaking of the old metal pump and the gurgle of water seeing daylight for the first time in years. You put the broom in the corner and wiped your hands on your jeans. The bed looked inviting, but the beach called to you even louder. You could feel that this night would have a lasting impact on your life and your relationship with Abby.

After checking on the roof and the cistern, you made your way down to the beach and spent the afternoon swimming, reading, and chasing each other around. One time Abby actually tackled you too hard and you got sand everywhere - your mouth, your nose, your eyes, even under your bathing suit. Abby couldn’t stop apologizing and telling you how sorry she was and how she underestimated her own strength but you swore vengeance for later and laughed it off. In order to get rid of all the sand underneath your suit, you went into the water and took it off before whirling it around over your head and getting Abby all flustered.

You secretly wanted her to join you, but she seemed to be too timid to go that fast so you put your bathing suit back on and let yourself flop down next to her, purposely splashing water on her and making her squeal as the cold drops hit her hot skin. Following an impulse, you rolled over and on top of her, pressing your cold, wet body on her soft, warm back. This time, she forced herself to stay still and not throw you around again, instead resorting to cursing you and calling you an atrocious little eel, only making you laugh harder.

After a while, she gave up on fighting you and you rested your cheek on her warm shoulder, humming in satisfaction. This was nice. It would be even better when you’d lie next to her in bed.

The afternoon seemed to go on forever, time standing still as you two forgot all your worries and enjoyed living in this little bubble of sun, sea and happiness. Then, finally, the sun hung low over the sea, drenching the world in golden light and painting the water orange and the clouds pink. It was an explosion of light and color, the pure beauty you could only find in nature. Or in the person you loved most.

Looking over at Abby, you saw she was also watching the waves and the clouds, the soft light illuminating the tiny hairs on her face and arms and making the dried salt crystals that stuck to her skin glint like little diamonds. Her dark blonde hair was swaying in the slight breeze and her cheeks had a faint red tinge from the sun. She was mesmerizing.

You moved closer to her and drew your nose along her jawline, breathing on her neck and placing tiny kisses behind her ear and on her temple until she was humming and leaning into your touch. She slowly turned her head and grazed your open mouth with hers before running the tip of her tongue over your upper lip. She opened her eyes.

“This really is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. Nothing has ever made me feel like this,” she mumbled without drawing back.

“I’m glad you like it. I’ve been wanting to show it to you for a while.”

“I wish you would have shown me sooner. But I’m really happy you’re doing it now.” She turned her torso towards you and brushed her fingers over your thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You could see the specks of gold in her iris, reflecting the last rays of sunlight and making her look ethereal and otherworldly. Oh god, how in the world had you found her? How had she found you? This was too good to be true, but you wanted to believe that it was, to believe that this moment could last forever.

In a desperate attempt to tell her all this, the beautiful chaos in your heart and your head that started spinning when you were with her, you leaned forward and kissed her. Hard, like you were scared this wasn’t real or it could be your last, then softer when you felt Abby tense up in surprise. She opened her mouth for you and you dragged your tongue against hers, tasting hints of salt and the fruit you had had earlier. You became more confident and placed your hand on her inner thigh which she took in with a gasp before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you closer, her tongue now more forceful and demanding.

You couldn’t take the space between you any longer and crawled on top of her, straddling her hips as you looked down at her face, her green eyes half-closed and her mouth hanging open. The sun had said its farewells and vanished behind the horizon and the atmosphere created by the dusk suddenly hit you full force. Abby’s face was still softly lit by the pink clouds behind you while the sky behind her was a dark, heavy blue fading to black in the distance. She looked like a fucking painting.

“I’m so glad I found you,“ you whispered, running your fingers through her hair.

Abby answered by wrapping her arms around you and pulling you in. She kissed you with a burning passion, gentle but daring, sweet but hot, encasing you with her body and her mouth and pressing you so close that there wasn’t an inch left between you.

As she moved her hands down your body, pulling your hips closer and caressing your legs, she noticed the goosebumps all over your body and halted for a second.

“Are you cold, baby?”

You wanted to say no, but you had to admit you were starting to shiver under your still slightly damp swimming suit and wet hair, the evening breeze dancing around you and mocking you for getting so lost in the moment that you forgot everything around you.

“I really am,” you sighed, “maybe we could get some blankets and food and start a fire?”

Abby nodded and you struggled to your feet, feeling very naked and small all of a sudden. The blonde noticed your change of behavior and immediately got up next to you. She grabbed your books and towels and wrapped her dry one around your shoulders, rubbing up and down your arms a few times to warm you up before pulling you in for a tight hug.

“Come on, let’s get you inside and warmed up.”

Inside the cabin, Abby managed to light an oil lamp and fill the room with a wonderfully soft, yellow light. She slowly walked toward you and came to a halt right in front of you. Gently, she placed her hands on your shoulders and took the towel, placing it on a chair beside you. Then she hooked a finger under the strap of your swimsuit and slowly pulled it over your shoulder and down your arm, never breaking eye contact. Both of you were breathing heavily, the air between you felt like sirup and the world seemed to stop turning.

You laid a hand on top of Abby’s and moved with her, dragging the strap down your arm to expose a slight tan line and a hard nipple standing out into the cold air. Abby still hadn’t moved her eyes from yours, helping you pull your arm out of the strap and slowly pulling down the other one until your entire chest was bare. You could feel another rush of goosebumps chasing over your entire body while hot blood shot into your face and painted your cheeks in a deep red.

You both took a deep breath simultaneously, then you nodded at the tall woman in front of you. She lowered her eyes to your breasts and let out a shaky breath, then she raised a hand and drew her fingertips over your collarbone, down your ribs, and up between your breasts before brushing over your sensitive nipples and finally using both hands to cup your breasts. She stepped closer and bent her head to kiss you. You melted into her, her hands now all over your body, her hot skin on your cold flesh, and her mouth on yours before attacking your throat, making you throw your head back and let out an ecstatic moan.

Suddenly, Abby’s hands were on your ass and she picked you up effortlessly. You wrapped your legs around her waist and held on to her shoulders as she carried you towards the bed, sitting down on it with you in her lap. You buried your fingers in her hair and pulled on it as you ground your hips forward and kissed along her jaw.

In this moment, you felt something shift inside her. She tensed up, but not in a way that felt right in this situation. You let go of her immediately and leaned back to look at her, scared you had done something wrong or she didn’t want this after all.

“Abby, is everything okay?” you asked, your voice sounding strangely loud and panicky in the silent room.

She kept one hand on the small of your back while rubbing the back of her head with the other.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. It’s just - fuck…” You could see tears welling up in her eyes as she furrowed her brows and tried to keep it together. “You just reminded me of someone. It’s not your fault, you didn’t know. It’s just… you don’t know everything about me yet. Maybe it’s time you did so you can decide if you still want me.”

She averted her eyes and let her hands fall to your thighs. For the second time in minutes, you felt strangely exposed and out of place. You nodded, then you stood up and turned away. It felt like your heart was slowly tearing at the seams and pouring blood into your stomach. Why couldn’t this be easy? What was the secret Abby had kept from you? You couldn’t imagine not wanting her anymore. She was everything you had ever dreamed of, the only person that had ever made you truly happy and it was impossible for you to see a future without her. The thought alone felt like a knife to your stomach.

You quickly pulled a big hooded sweatshirt from your backpack and put it on before taking off the swimsuit and slipping into fresh underwear and linen pants. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Abby getting dressed as well.

“I’m gonna get some wood from the back and start a fire on the beach,” you declared into the silence and rushed out the door without daring to look at Abby.

You piled up the wood on the sand, added some dried grass and small sticks in the middle and lit them with a match. The breeze had died down and the fire started at the first try. Abby came down from the cabin with two plaid blankets, a water bottle, and a small loaf of bread from your provisions. She spread one of the blankets on the ground and motioned for you to sit down, putting the second one around your shoulders when you had settled.

She sat down next to you and took a few gulps of water before handing the bottle to you. You were thankful for the cool liquid soothing your dry throat after the day in the sun and saltwater.

Abby took a deep breath, then she began.

She told you about her life at Salt Lake, growing up among the Fireflies, about her father, the surgeon, and the search for a vaccine. They had heard there was a girl who was immune and on her way to them, but only a few people believed it, her dad among them. When the day finally came, she had been out training with her boyfriend Owen and upon her arrival at the base, everyone was talking about the girl and the surgery her father was about to perform on her in order to try to develop a vaccine. There was an actual chance of salvation; everyone was enthusiastic.

Then the shooting had happened. Joel, the man who had brought the girl had suddenly changed his mind and abducted the girl straight from the operating table. He had shot everyone in his way. When Abby ran to find her father, it had been too late. Joel had killed him and with him the last chance of making a vaccine. Abby’s world had been destroyed in a matter of minutes.

That day, she had sworn vengeance. She had started training even harder than before and followed every tip she got to find Joel. The Fireflies had crumbled and she and a small group of friends had joined the WLF. Abby had broken up with Owen and everyone but her had given up on vengeance, but one day she had found Joel and his brother Tommy. She had brought them to the cabin where she was staying with her crew and she had killed Joel. An eye for an eye.

What she hadn’t expected was the young woman turning up at the last second to inevitably watch Joel die. They had left her and Tommy there and seen the matter as dealt with.

Then, suddenly, Abby’s friends had been killed one by one. This was at the same time she had met Lev and helped him flee from the Seraphites. In Seattle, she had come face to face with Ellie, the immune girl from way back and the woman who had watched Joel, her father figure, die at the hands of Abby. She had been the one to kill Abby’s crew trying to find her. Abby however had defeated her and Tommy once more and warned them not to come after her again.

Months after, just as they had made first contact with the Catalina Fireflies, Abby and Lev had been captured by the Rattlers and were tortured for weeks. One day, Ellie had turned up there and helped them escape before challenging Abby to one last fight to the death, threatening to kill Lev if Abby wouldn’t do it. They had fought a gruesome battle, both sustaining terrible wounds before Ellie had given up and let Abby and Lev go.

Abby didn’t know where she was now and if she had survived, and she didn’t care. She knew why Ellie had pursued her and she knew Ellie understood her reasons, too. Still, the loss they had suffered at the hands of the other was unbearable. Abby had lost everyone she had ever trusted or shared good memories with to horrific deaths and there would never be justice. She would never get them back and she would never understand why all this had to happen.

By the end of her story, Abby was sobbing. You had wrapped your blanket around the both of you and your hand lay on her thigh, but you didn’t dare to make closer contact. You didn’t know what to think of all this. What a waste. What a terrible, devastating tragedy. How horrible to suffer this much and have no one to blame, nothing to do with all the pain and grief.

Abby wiped her eyes with the corner of the blanket.

“I think, if I hadn’t found Lev, I wouldn’t have made it. I would have let her kill me. What was there to live for after everything that had happened?”

The thought of Abby dying was the final pull that ripped your heart to shreds. You pressed both of your hands to your chest to assure yourself you were okay, panting heavily as you tried to find something to say. There was nothing you could offer that would make this hell better for her. The realization was crushing.

You both sat in silence for a few minutes while Abby tried to calm her breathing and you tried to calm your thoughts. Finally, you broke the silence.

“I’ve loved Lev from the minute I met him and I’m so thankful he’s here.”

What you wanted to say, wanted to scream into the flames, was that you had loved Abby since the second you saw her, that she had your heart, that this was fucking confusing but didn’t change your feelings for her and that you would never give up on trying to be with her.

“That little boy has the biggest heart I’ve ever seen. He’s been through so much and he had to grow up in the span of a few months, but when I see him smile or hear him laugh or talk about fucking sustainable agriculture” - she had to laugh through a veil of tears - “I know it was all worth it. Every fight, every day in that godforsaken cell, every bullet. He’s my reason.”

Fuck it. It was better to tell her right now than to suffer the uncertainty any longer.

“Abby, I honestly don’t know what to say. I can’t even begin to perceive the horrors you’ve been through and I’m not going to act like I even remotely understand how you feel. What I do know is this: there is no one to blame in this whole terrible web of tragedy. What matters is that it’s over and that you now have the chance to live a life without constant danger and death and disaster. And I’m going to be at your side every day, no matter how long it takes for you to accept safety and peace and maybe even happiness into your life, even if it takes you forever. I have never felt the way I feel with you, I didn’t even know it was possible to love someone this deeply. I understand that you’re far away sometimes and I know there is still a lot of distance between us and you don’t have to reciprocate any of this, but I just want you to know . Know you are loved, know you have a place here, and know I will do everything in my power to help you through this.”

Abby’s eyes had gone wide at your monologue and she seemed completely blindsided by your confession. How had she not seen this coming? Did she seriously think she was just some fling to you? A little summer fun? What was she thinking?

The blonde stared into the fire, contemplating and kneading her fingers.

“Today was the first time I didn’t think of them for several hours. Ever since we arrived, I just tucked it all away in a corner of my mind and decided I could be sad tomorrow because today, with you, I would be happy.”

You held your breath and waited for her to continue, not daring to move or say a word.

“And I really was. Happy, you know? And you’re different, too. Owen was there for me so I was there for him. It just turned out I didn’t care for him as much as he did for me. And that really, really fucking sucks to know now that he’s gone. But I can’t change it. All I know is that I’ve never cared for anyone as much as I care for you. You’re constantly on my mind and I get irritated and impatient when I haven’t seen you for too long, usually meaning only a couple hours, which is a little pathetic if I gotta be honest.”

She looked at you and it felt like she was staring right into your soul. You were frozen, in disbelief at what she was telling you. She held out her hand and you took it, your fingers naturally slipping between hers and closing around her palm. How could two bodies fit each other that perfectly? Abby took a deep breath and turned her gaze to the fire again.

“I still have a long way to go with all this and the next few days are going to absolutely fucking horrible. I have no idea how I’m going to survive that. But with you by my side, I want to try. For you, for Lev, and for all the people I’ve lost. I owe it to them to make the best of the life I still have.”

She lifted your hands to her face and kissed the back of your hand.

“You, Y/N, have stirred something inside me I haven’t felt in years. It feels warm and hopeful and eager to see what the next day brings. And because I know tomorrow will bring a lot of pain, at the moment I just want to see what the next hour brings.”

You let your head fall on her shoulder and she put an arm around you. It had gone completely dark and the fire was slowly dying down, but you were warm and comfortable. The night was singing a bittersweet song for those gone too soon, the trees humming their wonderful tenor as the waves joined in with a whisper, the bats over your heads drumming their fleeting rhythm, and an owl completing the symphony with her wailing cries.

Abby started talking again and telling you stories about her time with the Fireflies while ripping off little pieces of bread for you both. One day, her and Owen had helped her dad free a zebra that had gotten caught in some wire. Her first kiss had been Nora, her closest friend and a brilliant doctor. Leah and Jordan had been the power couple at the WLF, brilliant together but also extremely annoying whenever they started wildly making out at parties or fucking in the bathroom thinking the others wouldn’t hear. Then there was Mel, part of the group but in a difficult triangle with Abby and Owen. She had been pregnant with Owen’s child when Ellie killed her. And Yara, what a wonderful young woman. Lev’s sister had stood by him and defended him when he had gotten in trouble with the Seraphites and she had done everything she could to protect him until the day she died. From that day on, Abby had taken that responsibility.

She also told you about her fear of heights and the trip through the sky with Lev, now laughing as she admitted how bizarre it all seemed looking back. It was nice to hear her laugh again and to finally really get to know her.

When the fire was nothing more than a few smoldering coals, Abby suggested going back to the cabin. You packed up your things and carried them back inside. Abby lit the lamp again while you folded the sandy blankets and put them to the side. Then you locked the door.

As you turned around, you could see Abby standing next to the bed, looking at you. Her features were only lit from the side, golden light flickering over her cheekbones and jaw. Her head was slightly cocked and her hands were restless again, searching for something to hold on to and finding only each other.

“Come here,” she said in a low voice. You felt yourself drawn to her by an invisible string, moving faster with every step until you clashed into her, hands and arms entangling, hot mouths pressed together. She let herself fall back onto the bed and pulled you down with her.

You couldn’t tell if the rushing in your ears was the sea or your own blood, but it didn’t matter. Abby’s calloused hands were exploring your back under the sweatshirt, her thigh was pressed between yours and her heavy breathing joined the harmony in your head.

You paused for a minute, staring down at the beautiful face beneath you, her eyes promising that she was all yours.

“You're so fucking beautiful,” you whispered, then you kissed her again and dragged her down with you into an ocean of pleasure.

Author’s note: After receiving amazing feedback from you guys and a demand for more, I’m currently in the process of writing a Part 3 for this! Thank you for your patience 💌 if you’d like, you can support me by buying me a coffee 💛

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby tlou2 #the last of us 2 #abby anderson fic #fanfiction #smut #fluff #angst

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deafaq · 5 years

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Comprehensive guide to writing deaf characters

Despite not being intented as a blog resource for writers, we get a lot of questions regarding how to write deaf characters. (and by a lot, I mean like half of questions are about writing)

Since lot of these questions are similar anyway, I wrote up this guide for anyone intending to add deaf characters into their writing. From now on, we shall only answer questions related to writing which AREN’T covered in this guide.

Please, keep in mind that deaf people aren’t a hive mind and this guide is based on our personal experience. We recommend a sensitivity deaf reader if you plan to make any deaf character a big part of your story.

Rest of guide under the cut.

Medical basics

- Deafness can be caused by many factors.

- For people born deaf, common causes are: genetics, illnesses of mother during pregnancy (and meds taken), complicated birth, premature birth, etc.

- For people who become deaf later in life: old age, noise damage, several infectious illnesses (for example meningitis), medication (cancer meds or certain antibiotics), tumours on auditory nerve and in brain, chronic inflammations of middle ear, etc.

- Most people with hearing loss still have some degree of hearing

Terminology

- “deaf” – person with hearing loss

- “hard of hearing” – person with hearing loss, still has some degree of hearing

- “Deaf” – person with hearing loss who is proud of their deafness, is member of Deaf community and culture, communicates in sign language

- “deafened” – person who lost their hearing in later life, often as adult

- “deaf and dumb” – old terminology, now considered insulting

- “hearing impaired” – medical term, often disliked by deaf people

Compensation

- Most hard of hearing and some deaf people wear hearing aids. Their function is similar to glasses, they enhances the remaining sense.

- Hearing aids are often pricey, not covered by insurance and need batteries to recharge

- They can be colourful, however most people use brown to make them less noticeable

- They need to be taken off for sleeping and bathing

- It’s considered rude to touch another’s person hearing aid. Hearing people should not try them out, as they can damage normal hearing.

- Cochlear implant are more complicated, require surgery to insert. They compromise of two parts – inner part (under skull), which stimulates hair cells in cochlea, and outer part (outside on the head and ear), which is sound processor, microphone and battery. Both parts are connected via magnet.

- Hearing via CI is more electrical than normal hearing and doesn’t sound same. After the operation, users must train their hearing and attend many sessions where CI is adjusted. It can take years for users to hear speech or use telephone. Success is very individual.

- CIs are often disliked and criticized by Deaf community as they are seen as a threat to Deaf culture and language. There is also a question of consent – for CI to be successful, children must be implanted at young age (1-7 years) and the decision is usually made by their hearing parents.

- Other compensation: Vibration and light alarms, alarm clocks, baby monitors, door bells. Special phones and headphones. Etc.

Communication

- Children who are born deaf cannot naturally acquire spoken language. (aka from their parents/family) It cannot be learned by lip-reading. They learn it as a second language, often at school.

- Despite the stereotype of deaf people being also mute, most deaf people can speak. However, they often have so called “deaf accents”, because they cannot hear themselves speak. Because of that, some deaf people prefer not to talk, to not be mocked for their accent.

- Natural language of deaf people are sign languages. They are not universal, they have their own grammar and rules, they are not simple pantomime and they are not easy to learn. (see Sign Languages)

- Not all deaf people use sign languages, especially those who become deafened later in life.

- There are specific communication system, which combine spoken languages and sign languages, often used in education. They usually use signs from sign languages and spoken language grammar. The most common is Pidgin Signed English (PSE) or Signing Exact English (SEE). Some deaf people use them instead of sign language, since they grew up with it.

- SimCom is simultaneous communication, speaking and using sign language at the same time. As its basically using two languages at one time, it’s difficult and one language often starts following grammatical structure of other.

- Lip-reading is taxing, difficult and often based on talent. It must be taught. To properly lip-read, there must be good light conditions and you must be able to see the face of speaker.

- Some deaf people use writing to communicate with hearing people – either with paper and pen, or on phone. This way of communication is often time-consuming.

- Deaf people often use interpreters to help them communicate. They usually accompany the deaf person to doctors, authorities, important meetings, etc.

Sign language

- Sign languages are natural languages and not created by one person. They appeared organically over time.

- Every country has their own national sign language. The ones most known and researched are ASL (American Sign Language), LFS (French Sign Language), BSL (British Sign Language), AUSLan (Australian Sign Language). There is about 137+ sign languages in the world.

- Grammar in sign languages is based on 3D spaces and use of face expressions and movement of body. Signs are composed of hands in specific shapes, their movement and placement on the body.

- Most sign language have their own finger alphabet. Most common are one-handed (ASL, LFS) and two-handed (BSL, AUSlan).

- Sign languages are not inferior to spoken languages and can express the same things.

- It takes time and dedication to learn any sign language. Usually at least 3 years for being able to communicate properly and more than 5 to be fluent.

- You can sign with just one hand (that’s how deaf people communicate while eating or holding something, for example)

Education

- Until 1970s, the most common way of teaching deaf children was oralism, a teaching tradition which supressed and forbid the use of sign language and insisted on deaf children learning to speak. It is still often used, despite the fact that many studies prove it fails to properly educate deaf people.

- Modern research has proven that use of sign language in education is beneficial for deaf children and helps them to better understand the material.

- Deaf children can either study at school for deaf or be integrated into regular school. Deaf schools used to be very common in past, as they were only available means of education for most deaf people. Kids lived in dormitories. Whether sign language was/is used there depends on the school. Some even had/have deaf teachers.

- Nowadays, most kids study in regular school along with hearing kids. If the school is good, they offer proper compensation – eg. interpreter in class, note taking services, hearing devices, etc. Some schools still sucks, however.

- Integrated kids can suffer from isolation, bullying and discrimination from teachers.

- There are colleges in USA which focus on deaf students and sign language. The most famous is Gallaudet University, Washington, D.C.

Family

- 90% of deaf kids are born to hearing parents. Hearing parents often struggle with the disability of their child. In general, lot of hearing parents prefer to give their kids CI, to make them more “hearing”.

- Deaf parents generally have hearing kids. Those kids are then called CODA – children of deaf adults. CODA often speak sign language well. In general, they are either very involved with Deaf community or not all and avoid it all costs. Lot of CODA children become interpreters.

- Every family is different in how they communicate. Some use sign language. Some only spoken language, requiring the deaf member to lip-read. Some use combination of two or create their own home signs. If only certain members of family learn to sign, it’s usually mother or some other female family member (sister, grandmother).

Deaf culture/community

- A community of Deaf individuals who use sign language as their primary means of communication, are proud of their deafness and their culture. They do not see their deafness as disability/disease, but something that connects them, makes them different from others.

- Deaf people often meet up in clubs, there is big emphasis on community, meeting together, communal experience, etc.

- Term “Deaf gain” is used – what deafness gives us, instead of the usual what deafness takes away from us. What is important is “seeing”, not “absence of hearing”.

- Deaf culture has its own set of social rules/etiquette. Deaf people are generally more blunt and to the point than hearing people. There are special rules for getting attention – eg tapping on shoulder, turning lights on and off.

- There is a big tradition in storytelling and poetry in sign language, especially ASL. Other visual art – videos, paintings and sculpture are also popular.

- Deaf community has lot of members who are LGBT+ and has its own deaf organizations for said people. Generally, deaf community is more accepting when it comes to LGBT+ issues then general public, although exceptions exists.

- Not every country has a strong Deaf community – the biggest one is in USA. In some countries, deaf people are isolated.

Discrimination

- Specific term for discrimination against deaf people is “audism” (not to confuse with autism). General term for discrimination against disabled people, “ableism”, is also used sometimes.

- Deaf people often face discrimination especially when it comes to access to information and unwillingness to offer proper accommodation to them.

- Movies/Tv shows/videos lack subtitles or closed captioning. Video games have no alternative way of showing audio cues. Lectures, festivals and public events are often without interpreters.

- There have been numerous cases of arrests and deaths of deaf people after encounters with police due to communication.

- Hospitals and doctors are often without interpreters and neglect to inform the deaf patients properly. Access to authorities and courts is also problematic.

- Deaf people have difficult time finding employment due to prejudice. Even if they do find a job, employers often refuse to offer proper accommodation.

- Many deaf people also struggle in education – see above.

Common mistakes and stereotypes when writing deaf characters

- Lip-reading as a superpower, which makes deaf person basically hearing anyway

- Wearing Hearing aids at night and/or other people touching them and taking them off.

- Cochlear Implants presented as “cure” or “miracle” which makes a deaf person into hearing person

- Being able to learn sign language in record time (aka in several days)

- “Happy” ending being deaf person losing their deafness via cure/miracle/magic

- Deaf people being bitter and lonely (yes, there are deaf people who are bitter and lonely, but it’s not our defining trait and it’s not *that* common)

- Using deafness as a “cute” trope to increase angst levels in your story because being deaf sucks, right? ( -_________-)

- Deaf person only having hearing friends (it’s often the opposite, aka most friends of Deaf people are also Deaf). Same goes for dating.

- Superpowers or magic that basically cancels out deafness

- Creating your own Name signs for your characters (pls really don’t)

- Sign language = English with signs

- Framing the narrative as a “person overcoming their disability”

- Including deafness as a punishment for the character

- The only deaf character in the story is the villain (“bonus” points for ‘deafness turned them evil’)

- Inspiration porn – see the link

Also, keep in mind that:

- Deafness isn’t a disease and isn’t actually contagious (can’t believe I have to say this)

- We very rarely date people who don’t bother to learn how to communicate with us.

- Deaf people can and do drive. We also travel. Use internet. Swim. Read.

- “Shockingly”, we can tell apart yawning and screaming.

- People who were born deaf think in sign language and asking about it really doesn’t make you a philosopher

#deaf #hard of hearing #sign language #writing deaf characters #writing #mod t

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thetomorrowshow · 4 years

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Slower Than Words Ch. 20

First - Previous - Next

Been a busy week! I’ll let you know if I need to slow down updates! So how about we visit Virgil, see what’s up with him?

cw: a n g s t, panic attack

Virgil couldn't move. Roman had helped him into bed, then sat in the room for a while, trying to talk to him. When Virgil didn't respond, he eventually left, stating that he would be back later.

His world was crashing down around him.

Could he believe that just yesterday, he'd smiled? He'd laughed? Now it was all background noise, mindless buzzing that felt totally inconsequential. There was only one thing that mattered now. Patton.

Therapy had been rough, and Virgil had expected it to be. What he hadn't expected was to go over every meaningful interaction he had with Patton. The doctor had said she was “doing some tests”, so Virgil struggled to keep himself together as he talked about the one person he missed most in the world.

Then, she'd had the audacity—she'd dared to—

Virgil took a deep breath, blood boiling as he remembered that it was she who encouraged these breathing exercises. What if he didn't want to calm down? He deserved to feel, remember, Patton needed him to—

Virgil's legs started quaking, but he paid it no mind. He could not be wrong, admitting he was wrong would be abandoning Patton, he couldn't do that, he wasn't dead, he wasn't gone, he'd always been there and always would.

His breathing quickened, coming in short, shallow breaths. His entire body was shaking, and Virgil nearly puked when he realized he could smell rubbing alcohol. He hadn't had a flashback all week, he'd been doing so well!

As if summoned, there were gentle fingers on his wrist. Calm, the fingers traced. It's okay. I'm here.

“Patton,” Virgil croaked. “I—I knew it, you're here, you're here, I knew it—”

V breathe slow. Safe.

Virgil got his breathing under control after a dozen rounds of exercises. His legs were still quivering, but he knew where he was. He was in his room, in Roman's house, and he was going to be okay, and Patton—

Virgil choked.

His own hand gripped his wrist. His own hand was tracing soothing words.

“She was right,” Virgil whispered. His mind frantically grasped at straws, trying to explain what had just happened, as Virgil felt an overwhelming amount of despair.

“Virgil, you talk a lot about Patton. In every instance you told me about, however, you never hear him. You can't see him. Based on your time alone at the beginning of your imprisonment, it seems unlikely that they would suddenly decide to move you into a room with another person.”

Virgil's body had been completely out of energy, lax and unable to move, but now he was stiff as a board, locked in place. It couldn't be. It couldn't.

“We haven't been able to find out what that book was, based on your description of it.”

No. No no no no no.

“And I've seen you trace words onto yourself, in times when you need comfort. An interesting coping habit, one that might appear when a person is locked in a room with no outside stimulation.”

Virgil sobbed, full on weeping as his body couldn't move. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be real.

And that was exactly the problem, wasn't it?

“Virgil, I think Patton may have been a hallucination that your brain fabricated in order to keep you comfort during the year that you were alone. I may be wrong, but everything you've told me about Patton points to it. Virgil, can you be absolutely certain that Patton was real?”

He'd said yes, he'd said that there was no other option. He'd stormed out of the office five minutes later. He'd refused to talk to Roman in the car. He'd gone straight to his room and curled up on top of his blankets.

Patton had to be real, didn't he? He couldn't have made up a person so complex, so loving, so wonderful. And, more realistically, he couldn't have created something so solid it had washed his clothes on days he felt too ill. Unless he'd imagined it. Anything was possible if it came from his head, wasn't it?

One part of him was screaming, begging him to not abandon his best friend. The other part of him was mourning the loss of Patton. Virgil wasn't sure what to do, torn this way. He had to be real. He was real—but was he? Where was the evidence?

The world was crumbling. Virgil choked on his tears, crying for Patton, crying for himself, crying for the loss he'd just suffered. Patton wasn't real, Patton had to be real, Patton couldn't be real.

Roman knocked on the door, asking cautiously if Virgil wanted to come down for dinner. Virgil pretended to not hear him, feigned sleep when Roman opened the door to look in. He buried his eyes in his pillow as he heard the door quietly shut, then Roman's footsteps retreating. He was alone, isolated, and the one person he'd truly loved had probably never even existed.

What was Virgil supposed to do?

“Dude, what does it say?”

A long silence. Virgil groaned. Apparently he'd gotten an email as well as a letter, but Roman had insisted on reading it to him. Screen-readers were 'too impersonal' now. It wasn't like he was going to get his information any other way.

“Virgil, I . . . I'm sorry.”

Virgil's heart dropped. Roman sounded lost for words, his voice cracking in the middle of the sentence. There was no way whatever the letter said was good news.

“You . . . you got in!”

In a shot of adrenaline, Virgil smacked him. Probably on the arm.

“Ow! That was my face, you heathen!”

Oops.

“Roman! Don't—why—” Virgil could barely speak. He'd gotten in? He was certain he wouldn't get in the first time, let alone twice . He got in!

“It's my job, as your adopted older brother!” Roman said, the false hurt completely gone from his tone. “I have to bully you a bit! You should've seen the look on your face, it was priceless!”

Virgil frowned, his heart still racing. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it a bit. “I'm . . . older than you?”

“Doesn't matter! I am, by proxy, older!”

Virgil snorted. “That makes no sense, dude.”

“Doesn't have to!” Roman proclaimed. Virgil could practically see him doing some dramatic arm thing. “I'm the older brother, and therefore, I don't have to make sense!”

Virgil tilted his head back in an approximation of rolling his eyes. According to Roman, it looked pretty creepy when he actually rolled his eyes, and it stung a little. Still, he would probably roll his eyes once he was around people who weren't Roman's parents.

He was really going back.

He sniffed, his nose burning. It had been so, so long. Had the campus changed? Would he be in a different dorm? Would he and Roman still share, since they were in different grades now?

He knew everything about their accessibility and whatever, about how they would accommodate disabled people. The school had actually reached out to him, informing him that he could finish his degree no problem, they had four or five visually impaired students already and could easily make it possible for him to continue his education. Virgil had been in contact with various foundations in order to work things out with his university, and he'd gotten a few scholarships—not to mention, the handful of scholarships he'd already had had gladly reinstated themselves. In fact, Virgil had pretty much already known that he'd be going back. There'd been very little room to doubt, as his therapist had told him several times.

This was real, though. Right there, in Roman's hands, was proof. He was allowed back, and would see teachers and classmates he hadn't seen in over a year. He was starting spring semester, which was still a few months away—Roman, despite his protests, had also put off starting his junior year until spring semester.

“Virge? Are . . . you okay?”

Virgil sniffed again, wiping his cheek to find a few tears there. “Yeah, I'm fine,” he said, with an attempt at a laugh. “I just . . . didn't think this would ever happen, y'know?”

Roman also laughed, albeit much more nervously. “With the way admissions was basically begging you to come back? Of course it happened!”

Neither of them acknowledged what Virgil really meant.

“So, packing?” Roman said, after several seconds of silence. “I know it's a while away, but is there anything specific you want to bring?”

With a pang, Virgil thought back to his hand-stitched hoodie. Hopefully it was bringing Patton as much comfort as it had always brought him. He'd had it for years, made it in Home Ec in high school. Until recently, he'd never been without it. It was bittersweet, in a way. Sure, it was gone, but it was with Patton. Like . . . like a piece of his heart would always be with Patton.

Virgil shook himself. That's stupid. And cheesy, he told himself. Grow up. Move on. He doesn't exist.

There was an ASL club on campus, one that Virgil planned on becoming a part of. Roman wanted to as well, making up something about having always wanted to learn sign, but Virgil knew it was just protectiveness. Virgil was pretty sure Roman had been about to rearrange his entire schedule so that they could have the same classes, despite the fact that Roman was a year ahead and in a different program of study. After a long evening of Virgil sitting in his room anxiously while Roman talked to his parents in the living room downstairs, Roman had come to the conclusion that it was best for him to continue with his intended major. Virgil was relieved—he was a grown adult, after all. He didn't really want someone trailing after him everywhere, insisting on helping him with every little thing.

Did he?

“Am I ready for this?” he wondered aloud. Roman gripped his shoulder tightly.

“I think so.” The words were soft, but no less powerful than Roman's usual loud tone. “You're so strong, Virgil. You're the strongest person I know.”

Virgil couldn't help but cringe. He knew someone much stronger. Whether that person was real or not was up for debate.

His most recent therapy sessions had involved a lot of tears, but Virgil had agreed to acknowledge that Patton might not exist. In turn, the doctor agreed to not make a formal assessment on Patton for the time being. It was still devastating, of course. It was still as if his entire world was falling apart. But Virgil was finding it easier to smile, more natural to joke with Roman.

He was healing.

Did he want to heal?

Yes, of course Virgil wanted to heal. He wanted to move on. He wanted to lead a normal life, without hurt and flashbacks and hallucinations.

But not without Patton.

There was a fork in the road approaching, Virgil was sure of it. He was going to have to choose between waiting for, hoping for Patton, and moving on. He wasn't sure what would happen when he reached that point.

But it scared him that he would have to make that decision alone.

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @enragedbees @gotta-love-alejandra @bunny222 @basiic-emo @patt0n-sanders @rosiepupper @fangirlgeekandfreak @dn-fan21 @that2000skid @remy-the-lemon-berry @itsadastraperaspera @xionbean @sanderssides-angst @hell-yea-we-gay-tonight @maybedefinitely404 @broken-pencils @thewhimsicallibrarytech @doomllily @hereissananxiousmess @judyismydog @arodynamic-enby @at-that-one-nerd @therapysides

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pansexualseaanimals · 3 years

Text

Chapter 9 Sneak Peeks ‘Cause You Deserve It

Hey guess what? I’m still alive! I haven’t been writing for a while because these past few chapters have kind of been making me face things about my own life that I hadn’t given due time to address and manage (especially Pyxis and Rory’s thoughts on how parents can “love you but not want you”, and stuff said by multiple people in chapter 9, the one I’m still writing) so I kinda just dealt with those thoughts and came to conclusions and stuff in my own mind while I endlessly binged anime and video games. Not that I don’t normally do that, mind you, but I did it a lot more and not much else.

Luckily, I live in a wonderful gorgeous apartment in my favorite town I’ve ever lived in (the only town I’ve ever called home, in fact! At least, in this world!) and it’s super comfortable and I live with my best friend who is way too good of a roommate if I must be frank - I’d rather be Columbia, honestly - and life has been relatively super good, so like. Don’t worry! I’m so happy in my life the way it is! I’m back home in the Midwest, surrounded by beauty and friends who’ve helped me out more than I could ever ask (but I did, let’s not lie lol) and... I still have depression and I’m working on that and planning on getting a doctor soon, but... I’m starting new good habits, getting into things I’ve been wanting to try, and yeah... I’m rambling at this point so I’ll make the rest quick.

I wanted to give sneak peeks because it’s been SO LONG and I don’t know how many people really actually read this thing? Like, “I’m excited that there’s a new chapter” kind of peeps? But no matter how few there are, you guys all deserve something nice, and this was all I could think of. Instead of just posting one scene, I’ll post a few clips from a bunch of scenes. Everything is subject to change as I keep writing, so it might not match the finished product, but... That just means you guys are extra-special! Heehee! ^__^

Excerpts are below the read-more cut. Hope it’s enjoyable!

\/\/\/\/\/

"Oh, I've got twenty-five coins for the sea show clanking in the backseat, whoa-oh. I've got thirty-two seashells lined up in a row..." Caurel happily sang as she covered the turquoise side in pink, pausing and hiding in a corner when she noticed Zebra rising out of the spawn pool. The younger Inkling, hesitant, flung her brush wildly to cover the pink ink and swam forward, repeating the process every few feet. When she dropped down to the valley, she triggered another Ink Mine, this time getting away just quickly enough.

"Not falling for that again," they sighed... right before Caurel popped out of her corner and slashed her brush at her, sending her floating right back to the spawn point. Unable to keep from giggling, Caurel re-inked the entrance ramp and climbed up to the higher level, brushing quickly down the alley as Zebra respawned again.

"And I'll swim, swim, swim, to my darling Martha... And let her lay me down in the bay where the warm winds blow~"

"Are we singing the same song?" Penny shouted from the audience, loud enough to be heard over the stage music.

"'Martha's Bay' by the Seagulls?" Caurel shouted back for confirmation.

"I knew it! Ahhh, I love you!"

"I love you, too, Butterfly!"

"Boooo!" Rocky shouted as he took out Thresher. "Get a room!"

"But their love for each other is like our love," Ankyr said with a wink.

"You really are a sea turtle."

"Hey, only Pyxis can call me-" SPLASH! Ankyr fell prey to Bonnet's Heavy Splatling.

"FOR ANKYR!" Rocky jumped up and flung his roller down before rolling toward Bonnet - and getting caught in a freshly thrown Splash Wall.

"I love it when he does that," Tiger squeaked.

\/\/\/\/\/

"What took you so long? Why did you trade Ankyr for these randos?"

"Rocky," Caurel sighed. "They're the friends we were supposed to meet today, remember?"

"Oh..."

"Guys, this is Rocky, our squad's leader," Pyxis laughed.

"Nice to meet you," Carina said, stepping forward to shake Rocky's hand. "Don't worry, my 'boyfriend' will be back soon."

"'BOYFRIEND'?" The entire crowd turned their attention to the charismatic newcomer.

"It's just an inside joke," Pyxis hastily assured them. "You'd just have to be there."

"Yeah, he kind of saved me a lot of hassle," Carina shrugged.

"My Sunshine has inside jokes with people I don't know," Moises thought out loud. "Not sure how I feel about this..."

"Well, you know us now," Hans piped up. "She's Carina, I'm Hans, this here is Shera, and the rude guy is Cygnus."

"I haven't said anything rude yet!"

"We all know you will," Shera said as she scooched over to Abbey. "So, what's your name?"

"I'm aromantic," Abbey said between sips of coffee. Their friends howled with laughter in the background.

"Aw, that's too bad... Are you... asexual, too?"

"They're not sex-repulsed, if that's what you mean," Pyxis jumped in. "That's not what asexual means, though."

"Sweet little Pyxis," Cygnus chuckled, patting his friend on the head. "Always here to educate her friends."

"...You mean their friends," Rocky corrected.

"What? No. You too? Are all Squids okay with the whole fluid-gender thing?"

"You didn't even last five minutes," Hans sighed, covering his face with his palm.

"Look, she was born with lady-parts, am I wrong or am I right?"

"Here's what I know," Rocky began slowly, stepping closer to the Octoling and staring him in the eye. "This particular group of friends respects what people choose to call themselves. When you're with us, you refer to Pyxis as they/them. If you can't handle that, you can swim back home."

"ROCKY!" Caurel grabbed her brother's arm and yanked him down to sit beside her. "They're our guests!"

"And Pyxis is family," he bit back. "Which is more important to you?"

"Wow, they really worship you around here," Cygnus laughed, turning to leave. "Do they even really know you? Your history? What have you been telling them?"

"Cygnus, get back here and act your age," Carina commanded.

"No thanks, Your Majesty."

The crowd was hushed for some time, the noises of the audience around them and the battle down below, permeating their silent space.

"Sorry about that," Carina finally spoke up. "I told him to behave himself. But he's... how do you say... stuck in his ways."

"He's only twenty-two," Shera rolled her eyes. "He's just a stubborn pufferfish."

"You okay, honey?" Hans asked Pyxis, who was too busy processing their own thoughts to realize they should answer.

"...I'm family?"

\/\/\/\/\/

And now, here’s Shera going goo-goo over more Inklings

---

“Vanilla? Is that a brand, or...?"

"Oh no, I just mean, the original one."

"So... Vanilla means original?"

"The basic form of something, yes. Regular. It's just slang."

"Who's the person with the gatling?"

"Ah, that's Pixie with the Zink Mini Splatling. Disruptor and Bubbler."

"Pixie..." Shera turned to where Pyxis was seated. "PIXIE!"

"Yes?"

"I can never call you Pixie again! That's the name of my new future wife!" Ecto and Thresher couldn't help but laugh.

"...Glad to hear it?"

"She's actually dating Ty right now," Tandy pointed out. "Sorry, you'll have to look elsewhere."

"Darn."

"Great Overseer," Carina sighed. "Why are you so thirsty today?"

"I dunno, Queenie," Shera shrugged and shook her head. "Look. I had no idea Squidlings could be so attractive, okay?"

"I mean, she's not wrong," Hans laughed. "The first time I saw Ankyr..."

"YOU CAN DO IT, GUYS!" Pyxis suddenly stood up and cheered as loud as they could.

\/\/\/\/\/

And now for some good parents! Specifically, Ecto’s dads. Well, one of them. The other is busy playing Pokémon with Caurel and co. in the living room at this moment. They haven’t been mentioned much so far, but they’re great friends with the Waters (Waters’? Waterss?) ever since all the families met, and Rocky and Caurel hang out with them a lot.

---

"That's because you can look back on the past, apply your knowledge of the present, and cook up a better future for yourself. A new happiness. Again, one that won't last forever. And maybe it's not perfect. Maybe you burn your tongue. Maybe you let it go cold without realizing. But there'll always be more soup."

"You just have an answer for everything, don't you?" Rocky scoffed, throwing more tomatoes into the pot.

"Not quite. There's one thing I've always wondered."

"The secret of life?"

"Nah, figured that out in college."

"What? No. Shut up." The two shared a laugh. Mister Plasma reduced the burner's heat and placed a lid on the pot, before turning to Rocky.

"Back when you were in Coral Reef's boat... Why didn't you say anything?"

"Well..." Rocky took a moment to continue. "Figured there wasn't any point, I guess. Can't help it if the person you have a crush on is gay. Like, if Pop was het, you wouldn't have the love of your life."

"Well I'm glad that's not the case," he said with a short laugh, before frowning and patting Rocky on the head. "Sorry, hon."

"It's fine. That's one of those 'just move on' parts in life. So I did."

"Ah..."

"Happened with Ankyr, too. But that was back when we were super tiny. Like.. That's a different kind of love. Baby love, I guess. But then again, we thought Ankyr was a girl back then. That was easier to move on from."

"You just can't catch a break," Dad laughed. "Anyone on your mind these days?" Rocky thought a while before answering.

"I... Not really. I don't know, Oji. Guess I'm kind of giving up for now. I just wanna cook and take care of the ocean. Those are my loves. Well, I'll never get tired of Turf War either. I guess... that's it."

"And that's A-okay," the adult Inkling nodded, before yelling "COME AND GET IT!" There was a multitude of shuffling sounds from the living room as the young adults made their way to the kitchen. "Come see us any time," he said again. "We'll always be here for you."

\/\/\/\/\/

And that’s all I have for you here today, I wanna stop myself before I give away more than I might have given away... But yeah, working on that slowly but surely now. I was already about halfway-ish done with the chapter before I fell off, I think? Depends if I think of adding any more scenes than what’s already planned. So, look forward to that soon! Catch you on the flip side~

P.S.: As a reminder, this is the second-to-last chapter I’m writing; after 10 is over, we’ll be moving on to the second book in the series, which will hopefully have much better pacing and will definitely be a lot different, but still be about the lives of Pyxis, Ankyr, and their loved ones - that will never change. Some of your favorite characters might not be around as much in book 2, some might get a spotlight where they hadn’t before, and of course we’ll meet lots of new friends, and you’ll just have to decide what you think of each of them. :3 But I hope you have fun. Regardless of anything, thanks for reading. If you’ve read any of Look Alive, Sunshine, you have my Heart Containers, and my eternal gratitude. Please let me know what you think, if you’ve got the time. Love & hugs!

#Splatoon #fanfic #excerpts #sneak peek #Look Alive Sunshine #mine #Pyxis Arcturus #Ankyr Moreta #True Lives #Turf War #Inkling #Octoling #writing talk

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cali-holland · 4 years

Text

Always You- Tom Holland Mini Series

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: Your whole life has been leading up to you going to Cambridge, but Tom comes along and your plans start to change.

Word Count: 4500

Warnings: parent issues; mentions of anxiety and sex, angst :)

Loosely Based On: What Your Father Says by the Vamps

A/N: I’m American so don’t hate me for getting the British school system probably allllll wrong (i only know whats in harry potter lmao)

Masterlist Tom Holland Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

~~~

2010, Age 14

“Crookshanks, where are you?” You called out, walking along the wooded trail. Your cat, a bright orange feline just like Crookshanks from the Harry Potter series, had slipped out of your house before you could catch her. You walked along the path, knowing she loved to make her way towards the park whenever she escaped, which wasn’t necessarily a common occurrence, but it happened often enough that you knew where she would venture off to.

You rounded the corner of the trail and entered the small park that was nestled in your neighborhood. You surveyed the park and sighed upon not seeing any sign of her. You continued your way into the area, eyes still searching. There were a few other people out, but you weren’t paying any mind to them.

That was until you heard a dog begin to bark. You looked to find the source of the noise. You smiled, seeing Crookshanks laying about in the grass. Your face dropped as you saw a dog running towards her. You immediately rushed over to her, but it was too late. The dog scared her up a tree, and the dog pressed its front legs on the tree, continuing to bark at her. Before you could even try to calm the dog, a boy came running up and grabbed the dog’s leash.

“Tessa!” He sighed in annoyance. He looked over at you and his eyes grew wide.

“I think your dog just scared my cat off.” You said, looking up at Crookshanks, who sat casually on a branching. The dog barked again and your cat let out a hiss.

“I’m so sorry. She’s just a puppy.” He apologized.

“Do you think you could help me get her down?” You asked, not knowing a reasonable way to get her out of the tree that didn’t involve you climbing the tree yourself. You weren’t particularly fond of climbing trees, especially since you were not at all coordinated.

“Oh yeah. Here, can you hold Tessa’s leash?” The boy held out the leash to you with one hand, the other hand rested on the tree. You took hold of the leash and he climbed up to grab Crookshanks.

“Thank you.” You smiled as he stood back in solid ground. You made a trade off, giving him his dog back as he handed you your cat.

“I’m Tom, by the way.” Tom held out a hand to you.

“Y/N.” You shifted to hold your cat securely in one hand and gave him a handshake with your free one. Before the conversation could go any further, Crookshanks began to squirm in your arm.

“I should get going, but thank you for helping me.” You stated.

“Anytime.” Tom smiled and waved goodbye as you walked away. Just before turning the corner back onto the trail, you looked back to see Tom once more. You smiled as he was taking a last look back at you as well.

The next day, you decided it was a good day to read in the park. A part of you hoped that Tom would be there again today, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up too much.

You had been at the park for a couple hours already by the time Tom finally came with Tessa. When he saw you sitting on a picnic blanket with your nose in a book, he had to take a couple moments to work up the courage to talk to you again.

“Hey, Y/N.” Tom said, walking up to you. He cleared his throat as his voice came out squeakier than anticipated.

“Oh, hey, Tom.” You smiled, looking up from your book.

“What’re you reading?” He asked.

“Les mis.” You replied.

“That’s a- that’s a big book.” Tom stated, making you let out a laugh.

“Yeah, it’s a pretty good book though.” You said as Tessa began to grow restless at Tom’s talking

“Do you want to walk Tessa with me? I know you’re allergic, but-“

“I’d like that. Give me a moment.” You put your book and blakey away in your small tote bag. You and Tom began your stroll through the neighborhood along the trails.

“Do you walk Tessa often?” You asked.

“Almost every day. She’s still a puppy, so I’m trying to get her used to walks.” He explained. “How’s Crookshanks?”

“Inside.” You joked, “She’s good though.”

“So where do you go to school? I feel like I haven’t seen you around.” Tom asked.

“I go to a boarding school, actually. I’m only really home in the summer.”

“A boarding school? I guess that makes sense then.”

“Yeah, my parents have this grand vision of me going to Cambridge to study law.”

“Cambridge? Wow.” Tom said, eyebrows wide with shock.

“It’s a lot to live up to.” You replied. “I really hope I didn’t scare you off by saying that.”

“No, no.” He shook his head, laughing a little, “Cambridge’s impressive. It’s good to know what you want to do.”

“Well, it’s what my parents want. I don’t know what I want yet.” There was a pause in the air before you spoke up again, “What about you? Do you know what you want to do, or have your parents already spoken for you?”

“I want to be an actor.” Tom answered quickly, so sure of his dream, “If that doesn’t work out, I’ll go to carpenter school or something.”

“It sounds like you’ve got more of a plan than me.”

It wasn’t long into your walk before you got a call from your mother, beckoning you home. Tom offered to walk you home, but you declined.

“It’s alright, really.” You insisted as you two stopped on the trail.

“Can I have your number at least? So I can make sure you got home safe?” Tom asked, making you smile.

“Yeah,” You both took out your phones and exchanged phone numbers.

“I’ll tell you when I get home.” You told him, before bidding him farewell and leaving back down the trail towards your house.

It’s not that you didn’t want to spend the extra time with Tom, walking back to your house. You just couldn’t have your parents seeing him. Your parents, especially your father, distrusted any boys around you, believing they would distract you from your studies. They distrusted almost anyone you attempted to be friends with. They placed more focus on your academics, on your path to Cambridge, than on your social life.

That summer was the beginning of several great ones. You and Tom stayed in touch while you were away. He supported you in your studies, and you supported him as he began to get movie roles.

~~~

2012, Age 16

Another year of boarding school was done, and you had managed to convince your parents to transfer you to a local school, where you could finish your education without having to live away from home for months. The main reason you wanted to transfer was because you wanted to see Tom more.

Tom was also the main reason why you were nervous to return home for the summer, and permanently.

You two had been friends for two years now and saw each other at every opportunity. You really liked him, more than a friend should, and you had let that slip while you two were on the phone a couple days ago. Much to your surprise, Tom told you he felt the same way. You agreed that when you got home, you two would talk about it all.

The phone call ended oddly for you as you hit the realization that your parents had never met him. You ended up telling them about him and they weren’t exactly fans. You didn’t tell them about his career choices or his schooling, knowing they’d throw out the “not intellectually stimulating enough” excuse to dislike him. In fact, you kept the details of his own life to a minimum in an effort to avoid conflict with your parents.

So now, here you were, waiting for Tom to arrive for a movie night with you, which would also be the first time he’d meet your parents and be at your house.

“Now, remember, the door stays open.” Your father reminded you of his rules as you sat on the couch, shaking your leg nervously.

“Yes, dad, I know. Tom’s just a friend.” You said, trying to convince him of the lie even though you assumed you and Tom were past the “just friends” part.

You jumped up immediately when you heard a knock on your door. You opened your door to see Tom.

“Tom, I missed you!” You smiled, hugging your best friend tightly. After all, it had been months since the two of you had seen each other in person.

“I missed you too.” He squeezed you back. You stepped back after a moment, leading him inside. As you shut the door behind the two of you, your parents appeared in the entryway.

“Hello, I’m Tom.” He introduced himself, holding out a hand. Your parents introduced themselves and shook his hand in response. An awkward tension filled the air, causing you to speak up.

“We’re going to watch the movie now.” You said, grabbing Tom by the arm and leading him up the stairs.

“Sorry about that.” You laughed, awkwardly. You opened the door that led to your family’s movie room, complete with a large TV mounted on the wall and a few couches in the room.

“You have a movie room?” Tom asked in awe. “I thought we were watching a movie in your room or something.”

“My parents would die before they let me have a TV in my room. It’d ‘distract’ me from academics.” You said, mockingly making air quotes. You and Tom settled onto the couch with a strange space between the two of you.

“So, should we talk about-” Tom began to ask.

“Let the movie start first.” You cut him off before lowering your voice, “I don’t want my parents hearing.”

“Oh, okay.” He nodded. You shifted nervously as the movie began to play, filling up the room with loud noise.

“Did you mean it?” You asked, turning to him as you kept your voice quiet.

“That I like you more than just a friend? Yeah, of course.” Tom said, his eyes never leaving yours, “I can’t really explain it, but I know I really like you and I want to be with you.”

“I really like you, too.” You replied. After another paused moment, “So, what do we do now?”

“Can I kiss you?” He asked and you nodded. As he started to lean over, you felt the nervous butterflies overcome you.

“Wait,” You spoke up and Tom paused his actions, half way leaning over to you, “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

“I’ve only kissed one other person.” He laughed lightly at the awkwardness and uncertainty of it all. “Do you really want me to kiss you? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” “I want to kiss you too, but I just thought you should know.” You said, making him laugh a bit more.

“Ready?” He asked, reassuringly.

“Ready.” You replied. He leaned in faster this time, as if to not give you a chance to back out. You hate to sound so cheesy, but you really did feel fireworks when your lips met, putting all awkwardness aside. Tom rested one of his hands on your neck, delicately holding your cheek in his fingers, as he continued to kiss you. Just as you were thinking you never wanted the moment to end, he pulled away from you, just enough to maintain intimacy.

“How was that?” Tom asked quietly, his warm breath falling on your face.

“Perfect.” You smiled. He leaned in to keep kissing you, pulling you into him.

And that was how your relationship truly began, with awkward kisses that made your heart soar and secret touches behind your parents’ back.

~~~

2014, Age 18

“I got in!” was all you had to say over the phone for Tom to know exactly why you were over the moon with joy.

“My girl’s going to Cambridge!” Tom cheered, happily, “I’m so proud of you, Y/N. I knew you’d get in.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, you know.” You said, looking down at the acceptance letter in your lap. Sure, you had said years ago that studying law at Cambridge was your parents’ dream for you, but over time, it became your own dream. You wanted to go to Cambridge, you wanted to study law, and you wanted Tom there with you the whole way.

Though you two had been dating for 2 whole years now, your relationship was still a secret from your parents. You wanted to wait until you got into college, until you had some freedom, before telling them. Tom respected your decision and acted as your ‘best friend’ whenever he was over. It hurt you to keep it from your parents, but you couldn’t risk them ruining it all.

“Please,” He laughed, “You’re a genius, Y/N. You got in all on your own.”

“You supported me and helped me study for years. I really couldn’t have done it without you.” You said, before letting out a sigh, “I’m going to miss you, though. Cambridge is nearly two hours away. It’ll be like boarding school all over again.”

“But it’s Cambridge. It’s your dream school.” He stated, “I’m going to miss you, too.”

“You can come visit me when you have time, and I’ll come visit you whenever my work load clears up.”

“About that,” Tom said, “I got an audition.”

“For what movie?” You asked.

“Y/N, it’s for Spider-Man.” He stated, and you felt your heart start to race.

“Spider-Man? Are you serious?”

“Yes, and it’s the MCU. If I get this role, it’d be life-changing.”

“You’re going to get it, Tom.” You said, unbelievably happy for him, “This is your dream role; I know you’ll get it. I’m so proud of you.”

“You talk about me being your biggest supporter, but don’t give yourself enough credit in being my biggest supporter.” He chuckled.

“I guess we really need each other, don’t we?” You smiled at the sound of his laugh. Your mom called you from downstairs, telling you that dinner was ready.

“Oh, I have to go. Mum says dinner’s ready, but I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m thinking a celebratory breakfast is in order?” You asked.

“That’d be amazing.”

“I’m so proud of you, Tom.” You stated.

“I’m proud of us.” He said. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too.” You replied before he hung up the call.

The next day at the celebratory breakfast, you and Tom met at a small cafe and spent the morning discussing his potential new role and your academic future.

“I got you a present.” Tom reached into his pocket in excitement.

“Tom, you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. I was going to give you this for our anniversary, but I just can’t wait.” He pulled out a small, navy blue ring box. He opened it up and there sat a delicate silver ring with a pearl nestled on top of it. “Now, it’s just a promise ring, but I wanted to give you something special. I read that pearls are symbolic for pure love and happiness, so, Y/N Y/L/N, I promise to love you forever and to bring happiness into your life just as long.”

“You’re so sweet. I love you.” You leaned over the small table to kiss him. Tom took the ring out of the box as you extended your left hand out to him. He slipped the ring onto your finger and pressed a kiss to it.

“And I promise to love you forever and to bring you happiness, too.” You smiled, eyeing the new ring on your hand.

You were going to Cambridge, and Tom’s career was coming together; you couldn’t be prouder or more in love with him.

~~~

The next few months were some of the most stressful months of your life as you finished up with your schooling and prepared to leave for Cambridge. You had been accepted into a special program that allowed you to begin your first year over summer, leaving just a few weeks for you to really get ready. Tom was incredibly anxious; he still hadn’t heard back about the Spider-Man role, and you could tell he was beginning to doubt his audition.

“You’re leaving tomorrow?” Tom’s voice almost broke as he repeated your words over the phone. It was yet another phone call because your parents wouldn’t allow you over, despite you being 18.

“Yeah, it all came so quickly.” You said. Your heart was heavy at the thought of tomorrow being your last day home with Tom for who knows how long. You self-consciously began to play with the pearl ring as it hung from your neck; you thought it’d be too suspicious on your ring finger, and so it hung around your neck on a silver chain.

“Can I come see you? Before you leave?” He trailed off at the end, not wanting to fully say ‘leave’ because it’d make the situation all too real.

“Of course.” You replied.

“I have to go, but when do you leave? I’ll come by tomorrow before you leave.”

“11.” You told him.

“Alright, I’ll be there at 10:30.” Tom replied, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Tom.” You hung up the phone with a sigh. You didn’t want to leave Tom, but this was Cambridge, this was your dream.

“Y/N, what was that?” Your father asked, stepping into your room. Your eyes went wide with horror as you turned to face him. He stood beside your mother in your doorway. Your father was red in the face from his anger, but your mother looked disappointed, disheartened.

“I can explain.” You squeaked out, clutching onto your phone tightly.

“It better be a good explanation.” Your mother said, sternly.

“Tom and I are dating.” You replied as your voice shook hesitantly.

“Tom the wannabe actor?” Your father questioned. “Think logically here, Y/N. He’s got no future-”

“That’s not true.” You argued.

“He’ll never amount to anything. If you care about your future, then you know he’s not good enough for you.”

“No. I get to decide who’s good enough for me, not you. Tom’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I love him.”

“And what of Cambridge?” Your father asked.

“What about Cambridge?” You questioned, frustrated and confused by his inquiry.

“Is he worth more to you than Cambridge?”

“What are you talking about? I love Tom, and I want to go to Cambridge.”

“Choose. Right now.” Your father stated, “You can either choose Cambridge, where you’ve planned on going your whole life, where you want to go to school, where your future will become infinite. Or you can choose Tom, who will never amount to anything.”

“I can’t,” You shook your head, feeling the tears form in your eyes.

“You will do well to remember who is paying for your college. If you choose Tom, you’ll have no means to go to Cambridge. If you choose Cambridge, I will continue to fund your tuition, but you can never speak to him again.”

“Dad, please, I can’t choose.” You began to fully cry now. You were too distraught to try to keep it together.

“Choose.” He repeated.

You closed your eyes, refusing to look at the man that you once called your father. You took a deep, shaky breath before whispering, “I choose Cambridge”.

“Then no more Tom.” He stepped towards you and grabbed your phone from your hands. He followed your mother out of the room, slamming your door and locking it from the outside.

You felt your heart breaking. There was no way out of this- you had made your decision. You had chosen your future at Cambridge; and yet again, you were left alone as you chose academics above all else.

You wiped away your tears and turned to your window. You had never attempted to sneak out before, but tonight, on your last night here, it seemed like a good time to try. With your room on the first floor of your house and your parents’ surprising lack of cameras, you opened your window and ran off into the night to Tom’s house.

You came to a halt just outside of his house. You weren’t even sure if his family was there- they’d been gone on holiday for the past few days, but you didn’t want to risk his family seeing you like this. You snuck your way over to the side of his house, just below his window. His light was on, and you could make out his shadow through the window. Grabbing a couple pebbles from the ground, you began to throw them up to the window. After a few finally hit the glass, Tom came to the window, opening it to see you.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” He asked, his voice just loud enough for you to hear him.

“Can you sneak me in?” You called back to him and he nodded. You waited by the back door as Tom came to get you. When the two of you were finally in the safety of his bedroom, you hugged him tightly and he rubbed your back, soothingly.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Tom inquired. His voice was soft and comforting, everything you needed.

“Is your family here or are they still on holiday?” You asked.

“They’re still gone. What’s going on?”

“I’m scared.” You whispered, starting to cry onto his shirt. Tom pulled back from the hug so that he could rest his hands on your cheeks.

“You’re going to do so well at Cambridge, darling. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met, you don’t need to be afraid.”

“I’m afraid of losing you.”

“You’ll never lose me. I promise.”

“But I will. I’m going to Cambridge, and you’re going to be off acting.” You said. You wanted to tell him about your parents, but you couldn’t- you couldn’t say those words to him.

“We’ll always have each other. I love you, Y/N. I don’t plan on leaving you anytime soon.”

“I love you, too.”

“C’mon, it’s late. You should sleep.” Tom moved over to his dresser, grabbing out a t-shirt and some boxer shorts for you as make-shift pajamas.

“Tom,” You whimpered, reaching out for him.

“What is it, darling?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“It’s my last night here. Please,” You couldn’t form the words you wanted to ask. You stepped toward him and rested your arms on his shoulders so your fingers could play with his loose curls.

“Are you sure?” Tom further clarified, and you felt like you were transported back to the night you had your first kiss, so much certain uncertain with such a step. You leaned up to kiss him and nodded.

“I want this. I want you.”

As much as you tried to sleep later that night, you just couldn’t. You just wanted to stay in his warm arms forever, but, as the sun started to rise, you knew you had to leave. You leaned in to kiss him on the lips for what would be the last time. He stirred a little, but remained in deep sleep. You untangled yourself from his embrace and changed back into your clothes from the night before.

“I love you.” You whispered to his sleeping form, before sneaking out of his house and back into yours.

That morning, you left with your parents two hours earlier than planned. You thought of Tom the whole drive up there. You wondered if he showed up at 10:30 like he had said he would, if he was trying to reach out to you at all. You knew it was no use for him to try to contact you- your parents placed a tracker on your phone and blocked his number.

As you moved into your new life at Cambridge, you couldn’t help but think about what you left behind in your old life.

~~~ Part Two

#tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fic #tom holland series

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upthenorthmountain · 4 years

Text

Heartwood - Chapter 1

A few years ago now, Charis recommended to me the book The Blue Castle by Lucy Maud Montgomery, or maybe she didn’t recommend it so much as talk about it a lot, so I read it and it is a lovely book and a wonderful Kristanna AU all by itself. But then a few days ago I suddenly had an Idea about how I could rewrite it - or enough of it, it’s not a perfect copy - into a modern AU. So here we are and here we go.

Huge thanks to @karis-the-fangirl as always, who untangles my plotknots and fills in my plotholes.

Chapter 1

Anna Rendell woke up on the morning of her twenty-fifth birthday and realised she’d never lived a day in her life.

Not lived, anyway. Not lived as people should live.

She sat up and looked around her bedroom. It was her bedroom, because it had her bed in it, where she slept; it led into the dressing room where her clothes were stored; it was the only room where she could close the doors and reasonably expect that if someone wanted to come in, they would at least knock, even if they didn’t wait for an answer.

But as she looked around, she realised she hated it. It didn’t look like a room someone actually lived in. It looked like a hotel room, in some kind of expensive boutique hotel with a pretension to minimalism. The walls were white, the bedclothes were white, the furniture - what there was - was white. There were no pictures, no ornaments. Everything she owned was hidden behind a white door, and if she left anything out, it would be promptly put away by one of the changing cast of staff that were constantly waiting, just out of sight, to make sure no one ever left a single stamp of living on this empty house.

The house was not entirely empty. There was one other person - Anna’s older sister, Elsa. When their parents had died, when Elsa was eighteen and Anna only fifteen, Elsa had been left as her sister’s guardian, and had taken the job very seriously indeed.

She had overseen Anna’s education, and made sure it was a good one, made sure that Anna worked hard. She’d brought her back here, to their parents’ house, and she’d made sure that she met the right people and did the right things. And nothing else. Anna didn’t know what use that education had been, when she’d never worked a day in her life - never needed to, never been permitted to. All she did was go to the gym, and take tea with her friends - none of whom she liked, or who liked her - and do charity work, which meant sitting in dull meetings where no one ever made a decision, or attend lunches and balls where she had to constantly watch herself and her behaviour.

Everyone thought she was rich. But despite the house, the car, the credit card, the charity donations - she didn’t have a single penny she could call her own and actually spend as she wished. Her parents, in their wisdom, had locked their money up tight in a trust. Elsa could use it for herself and for Anna’s expenses. But Anna would only be able to take her share once she married, or once she turned thirty, whichever came first.

The credit card bill went to Elsa. And Elsa only approved of a handful of shops. She didn’t agree with travelling (and oh, how Anna longed to jump onto a plane, or a boat, or a train going further than the city). She had Ideas about what Anna should wear, and if she didn’t like something Anna had bought, she’d have someone return it. Elsa herself only wore white, or very pale pastels, and she thought that Anna should do the same; and never, never pink or red, not with Anna’s auburn hair.

And today was her birthday. She didn’t think Elsa would plan anything, as such. Doubtless there was an extremely tasteful gift wrapped perfectly in white paper, somewhere in the house. Tasteful to Elsa and her associates, anyway - Anna was quite sure it wouldn’t be to her taste. What she’d really love was something bright, and colourful, and completely useless - a painting for her wall, a rug for her floor, a scarf or maybe a completely impractical necklace. She’d seen a woman in town, once, wearing a necklace made of huge beads in bright primary colours, and almost gasped out loud. Imagine owning something like that, and being able to keep it, and wear it and look at it whenever you wanted.

When she was thirty. Anna had a lot of plans for when she was thirty. So many, in fact, that it wouldn’t be possible to do them all - but that didn’t matter. She would do some of them.

Or perhaps she would get married first. That would also give her the freedom she wanted, though perhaps not the independence; and the older she got, the less likely it seemed that it would happen. Elsa would only steer Anna towards young men she thought were suitable, and they were all as bland and colourless as everything else in her life. Better to wait here in limbo for another five years than shackle herself to one of them.

Quietly - there was nothing to make noise, there was no one to make noise with - Anna rose, and got ready. She opened the doors of her dressing room and looked at the line of dresses hanging neatly, in colour order, though none of them were what she would call colourful. Well, today she didn’t even feel like the pale blue or the mint green or lemon yellow - she took down a white sundress, and a white cardigan to match. She wasn’t good at wearing white, it was true, but someone else always seemed able to get the stains out; and white was the colour that got the most approving looks from her sister. And it might as well be white. If she couldn’t wear what she wanted, white would do.

She put up her hair in a low chignon, and she put in her silver earring studs and strapped her thin silver watch round her wrist. That much jewellery was acceptable. Then she went downstairs to breakfast.

-----

Elsa was already at the table; normally she would have chided her sister gently for being late (it was almost three minutes past eight), but as it was her birthday, she seemed to be allowing Anna a little licence. “Happy birthday,” was all she said, and handed over the gift and a white envelope. Anna thanked her and put them to one side; she couldn’t open them at the table. Elsa nodded and returned to her breakfast. They ate in silence.

It wasn’t until they were both finished, and the plates had been spirited away, that Elsa spoke again. “Do you have any plans for today, Anna?”

“Oh. Yes. I’m having lunch with Donna and Portia.” Donna and Portia were not particularly nice or interesting women, but they’d invited themselves to have lunch with Anna on her birthday, so she supposed she would. Oh, no, wait - was Elsa asking because she’d planned something? For a moment’s Anna’s spirits soared. “Why do you ask?”

“Stephanie asked me to tell you that the doctor’s office rang. They wanted to reschedule your annual check-up to today, it’s now at 3pm. I’m sure you’ll be done with lunch by then.”

Stephanie was Elsa’s personal assistant. Anna stared at her sister, open-mouthed. “But it’s my birthday,” she said. Goodness, she couldn’t think of anything worse than having the lengthy annual check-up on her birthday, with all the poking and prodding - internal and external - and blood tests and goodness knew what, they always managed to think of something new.

Elsa looked at her, the barest hint of puzzlement showing on her face. “You just said you had time.”

“I mean - I guess -”

“Then there’s no problem.”

“I guess.”

Elsa stood, picking up her coffee cup. “Have a nice lunch,” she said. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“See you at dinner,” Anna said, quietly.

Should she move the appointment again? She probably could. Stephanie would raise an eyebrow, but she’d make the call. Or Anna could ring herself, of course. But Elsa….it was probably easiest just to do it. Get it over with. Anna would time how long it took and allow herself a window of Birthday Time tomorrow.

-----

Anna had nothing to do that morning. She read a little, and she walked in the garden, and she thought about going shopping but there wasn’t anything she wanted, or at least nothing she wanted that she would be allowed to have. So after a while she walked all the way up through the empty bare house and into the attic. If she walked carefully round the old pieces of furniture still stored up here - nice furniture, warm wood with carved designs, mirrors with golden curving frames, chairs with little curly feet and rich red velvet cushions - she could reach the window at the end. Anna pulled over one of the chairs (brushing it down first so that she wouldn’t cover her white dress in dust), and sat looking out. From here, you could see right over the garden and the fence, right over the other houses and out to the woods on the horizon. The trees were green and resplendent in the late spring. Anna put her chin in her hands and imagined them swaying slightly in the breeze. She’d walked in those woods, more than ten years ago, when her parents had been alive and everything had been different. She wondered if the bluebells were out.

Anna fumbled in her pocket and pulled out her phone. She didn’t have her headphones, but no one would hear her all the way up here, if she turned the volume low. She needed a little - just a little - John Foster to help her through today. He had definitely recorded a song about bluebells - or that always made Anna think of the bluebells, shimmering like the sea under the branches of the trees in the wood. She set it playing, tinny through the phone speakers, and closed her eyes. The sun through the window was instead being filtered through the leaves of the trees. She couldn’t smell dust, but the rich earth, teeming with green things pushing their way to the light. Maybe she wouldn’t travel, when she had her freedom; maybe she’d just go up to the woods and lie down in a clearing until her soul was clean. However much time that took.

Oh, no, speaking of time, she was going to be late for her lunch - the boring lunch she didn’t want to have, but was apparently all her birthday would be, so she’d better go and try and enjoy it. What else was there to do?

-----

Despite the sun, the town centre was cold between the buildings. Anna’s toes froze in her white sandals (what a silly, impractical colour for a shoe - but they went with the dress) as she walked towards the restaurant. She hadn’t chosen it, Portia had - and Anna knew why, it was because she knew Anna would pick up the bill. And what did that matter? She didn’t actually have to pay it, but she still resented it, somewhere deep down. It was Anna’s birthday and maybe she’d rather eat somewhere different. Maybe she’d rather go to somewhere where you were served a decent plateful of food, food you could recognise, rather than a set of coloured blobs and smears that meant you were still hungry even as you left the place.

Her friends - she didn’t have any others, so Anna supposed that after all she’d rather claim them as such than not - were already there, and soon they were settled at their table, with glasses of wine and plates of what was probably meant to be food. Portia was talking about her dog, as usual. Anna knew that she did genuinely love the dog, but she wished Portia could talk about something else for just two minutes.

“I wish I could have a dog,” she said, when Portia paused for breath. “But Elsa’s allergic.”

“I can’t imagine Elsa with a pet,” Donna said.

“Elsa would have a cat, with long white hair,” Portia said, “And a diamond collar.”

“No, she’d just have tropical fish,” Donna said. Anna bit the inside of her lip. Why did everything always end up being about Elsa?

-----

At half-two Anna made her excuses, paid the bill, and went out into the square. She’d meant to call a cab, but it was a nice day after all - perhaps she’d walk, it wasn’t far to the doctor’s office.

As she was leaving the square she heard someone call her name, and turned.

“Mrs Davies!”

“Anna, please! Call me Lillian.”

“Oh, I can’t call a teacher by her first name.”

“I haven’t been your teacher in a long time. It’s Lillian. How are you, dear?”

“Oh, I’m very well, thank you! How are you?”

“I’m wonderful, dear. Just moved back to town to help them out with the bats. Have you heard about the bats? Down in Bennett’s Field?”

“No?”

“They’re going to build on Bennett’s Field, houses, and of course people have got to live somewhere, but there’s a rare species of bat in the woods right there. The locals have been trying for years to get it recognised as an SSSI - Site of Special Scientific Interest, you know - so they won’t be able to build. But they can’t get there to get the evidence. So,” Lillian’s eyes glinted, “We’re setting up a camp on the field. Just until we can get this sorted out. Once they start building it’ll be too late.”

“Isn’t that - illegal?”

“Oh, not very. Hardly illegal at all. Not the kind of illegal that matters, anyway. What are you up to these days? Want to join us?”

“Oh, no!” Anna said automatically. “I couldn’t - I have to go to a doctor’s appointment -”

Lillian laughed. “I didn’t mean right now! But, the more the merrier. Do you good to get out of the house. And there’s a whole group of us.”

A young man had come out of the Co-op behind her and was waiting, holding a couple of bags. “Recruiting, Lil?” he said.

“Just another ex-student,” Lillian said cheerfully. “I need you all down there so I can boss you about, like old times.”

Now Anna recognised the man. He’d been at school with her, though a couple of years above. Gosh, he’d got tall. And broad, too, in the shoulders.

The man - Kris, she was fairly sure his name was Kris - was looking her up and down. “I wouldn’t bother with this one, Lil,” he said. “She doesn’t look the type. I’ll be in the camper,” and he walked off and down the street.

“Don’t mind Kristoff,” Lillian said. “He’s probably just talking about your lovely shoes, which are so pretty but not really right for the forest. No, you know where we are, Bennett’s Field, in the corner closest to the trees. Bring a tent and a sleeping bag, it’s just like Guide camp. We’d be glad to have you. Bring your friends,” and she walked off, waving. Anna waved back, and stood for a minute.

Then she shook herself. Doctor. She had to go to the doctor. Hopefully the appointment wouldn’t last too long.

-----

The check-up started as it always did. Some samples taken, then questions while the samples were processed somewhere else. Then Anna was checked over, and results came back and the doctor looked at them. And then usually they would be done, but this time the doctor frowned at her computer, and tapped her fingers on the desk. Then she said “Excuse me,” and made a telephone call; then she repeated a few of the tests she’d done before.

Then the doctor said brightly that they had a new scanner, just a few months old, and Anna would need to come into the other room to be scanned. Just one last thing to check, it wouldn’t take long. This way, please.

-----

And now Anna was dressed, and sitting back in the doctor’s office, and barely an hour had passed. But there are those moments that forever split your life into Before and After; the only one she’d known up until now was when the police officers had knocked on the door to tell her and Elsa that their parents had died. But now, this.

It was her heart. The doctor had shown her some lines on a graph, and spoken in a kind and soothing voice. Really, Anna was very fortunate it hadn’t given her any trouble up until now, and without the new scanner they might never have known. Any sudden, severe shock might cause fatal heart failure. And her heart would fail, most likely, within the year. Certainly within eighteen months.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Rendell,” the doctor finished. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“Yes,” Anna managed, drawing a shaky breath.

“Now, if you would like, I can refer you to my colleague in the city,” the doctor said. “There are more tests they can run and it’s possible they may be able to do something.”

“What sort of tests?”

“Well, I’m not sure. More scans, I expect, probably investigative surgery. Would you like me to do the referral?”

Anna shook her head. She couldn’t think. A year! A few months more, if she was lucky.

“Perhaps,” the doctor said, in a kinder voice, “You would like to come back in a few days and we’ll talk about it some more.”

“Yes,” Anna said, seizing on that. “Yes, I think so.”

“Now, you don’t need to do anything in particular. Just try to take things calmly. No big shocks. I’ll give you a list of symptoms to watch out for and when to go to the hospital. And I’ll put this all in writing for you, I know these things are hard to take in. We’ll talk again in a couple of days. Miss Rendell?”

“Yes,” Anna said. “Yes, I’ll - go. Thank you.”

-----

Anna was halfway home before she remembered that she could have called a cab. Should have done. After all, she was dying. A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. She’d never lived, and now she was dying.

A loud exhaust coming towards her made her look up. An ancient VW campervan, bright orange, trundled along the road past her, the driver leaning one arm out of the window; it was Kristoff, tapping his hands on the door to the radio, listening with a half-smile on his face as Lillian in the passenger seat talked to him. The air through the open window blew his hair into his eyes and he pushed it out of the way. For a moment his eyes met Anna’s, then the campervan was gone, putt-putting its way down the road towards the woods.

#kristanna #fanfic #fanfiction #heartwood #look at me I still know how to write things

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xthelastknownsurvivorx · 4 years

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Hamilton!firstprince au

(cross posted from twitter with a couple of edits b/c i couldn’t make them there)

in which i loosely follow the plot of hamilton except its firstprince and alex and henry get a happy ending. inspired by the striking similarities i noted between our favorite first son and his namesake hamilton in the broadway musical

the similarities:

both have/will have a political career

both often talk too much/don't mind their words

both began as lawyers

both extremely motivated but overwork themselves (“nonstop” + “you have a fire under ur ass for no good goddamn reason)

both had some sort of sex scandal that impacted their career plans

hamilton speculated to be bi

the story

the setup of the colonized country alex lives in is similar to the usa vs england but fictional bc alexs race would have limited his opportunities in america's early years

idk names for either of these countries so its now the colony and the motherland

alex + his mom live alone in the poorer southern part of the colony

but his dad + june live elsewhere + they dont rly contact e/o (tho they do know of e/o’s existence)

june becomes a journalist who writes important pieces abt independence

when alex comes of age his mom reveals she used to be part of the rebellion

thats actually why his dad left to raise june bc it was too dangerous

his parents met in the rebellion but oscar left first for june while ellen stayed until she realized she was pregnant w alex

ellen still has some rebel contacts but she mostly sheltered alex to keep him safe

now tho alex decides to join too + the rebellion sends him up north to the capital for an education bc he's smart + they need people like that

he attends uni + meets like-minded people there

tension grows btwn the colony in the motherland, and alex + his friends write/speak out often and this goes on throughout their schooling

they’re also troublemakers in general too, much to the annoyance of the motherland soldiers stationed in the capital to prevent rebellion

henry is one of those soldiers

he's from a noble family in the motherland but was sent overseas as the sort of black sheep of the family due to his sexuality

the idea was to let him be in charge in the colony + reestablish a reputation there w/o embarrassing the main family back home

henry hates his job + feels bad for the colonists but still does what he's told anyway

alex + fhis riends like to bug motherland soldiers for fun

nothing enough to put their lives in danger too much (although yes that too esp when drunk)

henry becomes a favorite target of alex's bc he's awfully stoic + statue like + on the way to uni - overall fun to antagonize

there's also the fact that alex is angry at all the soldiers for oppressing the colony + holding up the motherland monarchs tyranny (but also alex just is the type to fight literally everything and anything)

it becomes almost a daily ritual for them to argue

henry wonders why this colonist keeps on picking a fight w him but soon almost looks forward to it

many of the other soldiers know or speculate why henry is in the colony but none make the effort to get to know him; some even call him arrogant or undeserving of his position

alex doesn't

of course alex also doesn't know him

and alex hates him

but he doesn't whisper behind henry's back

henry comes to read some of the essays alex publishes speaking out against the monarchy + also hears alex speak to crowd in the square

alex is a talented + charismatic public speaker

henry finds himself growing increasingly sympathetic to the colonists cause

at the same time he and the other soldiers are order to be stricter and dole out more punishments

the others gleefully do so which makes henry concerned about alex's safety bc alex often seems to have no self-preservation skills

henry asks alex for a word when he's alone

“am I in trouble?” “no but you bloody will be if u keep going on like this”

“this is serious” “so am I” “you can't go around saying things so openly you'll get yourself killed”

alex tries to leave at this point “I think I'll be ok” but henry shoves him against the nearest wall

“listen to me! stop acting like this is a game! ur putting ur sodding life in danger! I dont bloody care what ur opinions r but why must u declare them around enemy soldiers? how is this helpful 2 ur cause? u cant fight if ur dead”

“you'd b surprised how effective martyrs are”

cue enraged henry noises

alexs gaze turns hard “listen i appreciate/the advice” he says sarcastically “but I dont need an enemy telling me what to do. I can take care of myself”

there's a stirring in alexs chest after he removes henry's hand and stalks off that he's pretty sure is anger

like it can't be anything else

while alex is trying to convince himself of that, the tensions boil over + soon the two sides are on the brink of war then the fighting starts

henry + alex don't talk much for a while bc they're both busy on their sides preparing

school is on hold during the war so alex + his friends are looking to serve + bring glory to their names

alex esp is recognized for his intelligence + becomes the recognized general rafael lunas secretary

luna is the george washington figure in this case who is impressed by alex wants him as his right-hand man

alex is disappointed his role is not on the battlefield bc he knows he has a good tactical mind + he could change the tide of a losing war + gain honor and status thru it, which would put him in a good position to be elected in the future

as secretary, alex is in charge of a lot of important correspondence eg for more supplies + men, so the motherland soldiers figure ambushing him off the battlefield would make things hard for the colonists

henry overhears this plan + immediately worries for alex's safety but he's cornered by another soldier to talk strategy + misses the chance to take out the men then

henry manages to catch that they're going to attack alex at night when he leaves + henry arrives just in time to kill them in a panic

alex hears the gunshot + yells “drop ur weapon”, drawing his own gun

henry obviously does + alex inspects the scene he keeps a gun fixed on henry

“what's going on?” he asks, eyeing henry w/ suspicion

henry explains everything + looks positively terrified bc he just betrayed his side even tho the motherland and his family has treated him like shit since he came out but still.

becoming an outright traitor is not something henry ever planned + leaving behind everything he's ever known w no hope of ever going back is terrifying

but he also doesn't regret protecting alex

alex questions henry but can quickly tell henry is sincere + is telling the truth

henry explains his change of heart + they have a heartfelt moment in/just outside luna's office.

alex almost died + henry just switched sides, emotions are running high and they escalate into a kiss. the moon is out + it's all very romantic but they don't admit their feelings yet

soon after they go to luna, explain the situation + talk w the other generals/people in charge

henry is sent away on an assignment + is watched closely at first but he proves his loyalty quickly

henry and alex write letters back + forth that turn into love letters

besides managing correspondence for luna, some of alexs ideas of sneak attacks/stealing supplies help turn the tide of the war andhe also writes to other countries for foreign aid

eventually the colonists win in this huge up start that no one anticipated bc the motherland is known as the most powerful country in the world

he + henry reunite in the capital of once the war is over

alex finishes up his studies + practices law + soon is chosen to be part of the new lawmaking body

things are going pretty well for alex w his legal + political success and his relationship with henry

they dont live together but theyre dating tho no one else knows

alex pretends to be single instead + says he doesn't want to be tied down

it works while he's still in his early 20s but as he gets closer to 30, people start to find it strange + tell him he needs to settle

being married to his work is also not a valid excuse anymore

it turns out alex made quite a few political enemies due to his strong opinions that he always vocalises + can be unwilling to compromise on

they don't like his ideas or more often hate him and hence his ideas too

they look for some dirt on him bc atm he has lunas support which has a lot of sway + decide they need to find out why he hasn't married

they manage to find out about henry + threaten to tell the public

alex is obviously distraught re the consequences personally + politically

so alex and henry discuss what to do

henry is willing to put alexs political career 1st but firmly explains their relationship can't continue if that's the case

henry gave up his whole life + any possibility of going back to his family so he's not willing to be someone's dirty little secret

alex doesn't know what to do so he goes to consult luna who he's become very close with over the years

luna is not quite old enough to be his father but he's like an uncle + he always calls alex “kid”, much to alex's annoyance

but alex knows he'll have some good advice

alex + luna end up having a long conversation

like washington luna has always been very vocal abt his regrets re his naivety + desire for glory back in his youth

hes always said that this was his greatest regret in life. but then he tells alex like he had another great regret in life- letting go of the love of his life

alex is surprised bc luna's never mentioned anyone special

“who is she?”

“he” luna corrects “he was my best friend. we had something a relationship but it was short-lived bc I decided I wanted to join the military + attain glory. i thought thats what i wanted in life. turns out that stuff is meaningless w/o anyone to share it w. nor did I even achieve it. perhaps i did accomplish some things but now in my retirement I have no one by my side. i have found that life is meaningless without love and family.

“i tried to find my friend to reconnect after all these years even as simply friends but he died in the war. alex, I see many similarities between us. don't make the same mistake that I did, alexander. glory + lasting legacy mean nothing if you're alone in the end

“if you make choices that are motivated by love and family you will be a lot happier”

alex takes his advice even though he kind of hates sort of giving up to his enemies

he decides to choose henry and his own happiness over politics bc in the end he's done a lot of good work and that much is enough

also his enemies probably would try to blackmail him throughout his career if he was doing something against their interests

so he + henry leave the capital and move uptown and the two of them have a quiet retirement + engage in philanthropy for the rest of their lives

separately they've amassed a decent amount of money - henry kept a portion of his inheritance despite being unofficially disowned and alex made a lot of money as a lawyer and then politician

as it turns out alex still has a tangential role in politics when some of his former allies go to him for advice

all in all, alex happy with his final decision to be with henry and step away from politics

the two of them live happy and full lives together

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #firstprince #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #alexander claremont diaz #rwrb fic

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Riding High Ch 12: I L Y

Chapter Summary: Its Christmas…and we reach the end of a stressful year for Frank…but as he looks back he realises, it ain’t all been that bad.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. Talks of SMUT but nothing major

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Yeah yeah I know it’s the wrong time of year but hell, we’re all on lock down so the days and months don’t actually exist anyway at the moment… so let’s pretend its CHRISTMAS!!!

As always I’m a ho for a REBLOG and COMMENT! This is the end of Part 1 of Riding High! Thank you all for sticking with me and loving FRISS ( yeah I went there, eat your heart out Kimye…) as much as I do! Part 2 will see us jump forwards few months into 2018 and I have BIG things planned for our duo

Thank you, thank you, thank you to my wing-woman @icanfeelastormbrewing for letting me bounce the ideas, proof reading and finding me appropriate photos of our man. You can thank her the picture in the top left corner here…yeah, it made me thirsty too

Chapter Song: Fairytale of New York by the Pogues

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

I kept them with me babe, and put them with my own. Can’t do it all alone, I built my dreams around you.

Frank looked up as Fliss walked into her parent’s kitchen and his mouth dropped open. She was dressed in a gorgeous long legged strapless jumpsuit along which the neckline was embellished with lace flowers which spread down the sheer sleeves. Her long hair was styled in loose curls and she’d done something to her make up that made her cheek bones stand out even more. Her eyelids were adorned with a deep green that shimmered and made her dark eyes pop and she had a clear gloss on her plump lips. Fuck, she looked stunning. But as he watched, he saw her face fall and she bit her lip.

“Is it…is it not ok?” she asked shyly “I can change…I mean…”

“Don’t you dare.” he said sternly, stepping forward, his hands falling to her hips “Honey, you look amazing.”

Her face lit up and she smiled at him, shyly “I wasn’t sure how posh to go or…” "Lissy…” he chuckled “Stop it.”

“Sorry.” she said, wrinkling her nose. She stepped back slightly and looked him up and down, taking in his dark jeans, boots and light denim button down. “You look pretty good too Sailor.” she smiled, running her hands up his chest to his shoulder and he noticed then she was also wearing her Pandora. He smiled back, his eyes also spotting that her neck was bare and then had the perfect idea for a final Christmas Gift he had been struggling to come up with. With a soft smile he leaned down, taking in that she was slightly taller than usual thanks to her heels and he pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth.

“Get a room…” Bill shot as he walked into the kitchen, Mary in tow.

“Bore off.” Fliss shot back, looking at her dad as he sent her a grin before he did a double take.

“Wow, you look cracking Titch.”

“Thanks” she smiled

“You ready to go?”

“Sure you don’t mind dropping us?” Frank turned to look at Bill “It’s no problem to get a cab.”

“Nonsense.” Bill smiled “I gotta pick up the Thai V has ordered anyway.”

“You’re getting Thai?” Frank raised an eyebrow and glanced at Mary “Funny that just so happens to be your favourite…”

She shrugged “Verity asked what I wanted for dinner.”

Frank sighed and looked at Bill “You spoil her.”

Bill shrugged “And?”

Frank rolled his eyes a soft smile playing on his face. The way that Bill and Verity had welcomed Mary, and him for that matter, into their lives still amazed him. Whilst he and Fliss had only been officially together four weeks or so now, they’d opened their doors to him the day they had met pretty much back in August and he was eternally grateful. Mary got a sense of family, something he had wanted her to have all her life. It had even been brought up at the Court Hearing earlier that week where the paperwork had been signed awarding him legal guardianship status, the woman from the Child services department commenting in the court room that Mary had been gushing about Bill, Verity and Fliss, and seemed extremely settled. Frank was simply relieved all of it was more or less over. The last 2 weeks had been stressful as Greg had been handling the main discussions with the state for him and when they’d sat down one night to go over the notes for the settlement they had proposed, Greg told Frank that 2 major conditions would be set. Firstly that he found a home to allow Mary a room of her own and secondly that she was given access to a higher, more challenging form of education. After a bit of discussion with Mary, who had insisted she didn’t want to go to a posh school, Greg had done a little research into previous cases and come up with a suggestion that Child Services agreed with. They would provide a scholarship grant that would allow Mary to attend a number of University classes a few days a week and then her normal school the rest. It was a middle ground, giving Mary the mental stimulation she needed but also allowing her to be a normal kid. It was agreed she would return to normal school when term started in January and the arrangements would be made with the University to start there when their term picked up the middle of the same month. Frank had insisted that she wouldn’t be taking any exams or anything like that, just doing the work, keeping herself occupied. The judge had accepted the proposal, giving Frank 6 months to find alternative living arrangements, and had then awarded the Guardianship temporarily with the instruction it be awarded permanently upon a review in 6 months. So whilst not 100% complete, it was almost there, and Frank knew that as long as he did what they said, there would be no problem. The other good thing was nothing had legally been awarded to Evelyn, after she had remained completely absent from the proceedings. Which meant that if she did reach out, Frank would have total control over where and how often contact took place. Which suited him fine as he could ensure it was on Mary’s terms completely.

“Hey…you ok?” Fliss asked, rubbing his arm. He jerked round, realising he had been completely elsewhere and gave her a smile.

“Yeah, sorry, was just thinking.”

“Did it hurt?” Mary asked and Frank shot her a look as Fliss and Bill laughed as Mary left with the drink she had come in to the kitchen for.

Frank followed her into the living room as she perched on the large sofa next to Verity, the pair of them looking at something on the laptop.

“Behave.” Frank looked at Mary. “Go to bed when V and Bill tell you, no back chat or arguing…”

She saluted him and V looked up smiling. “Stop fussing Frank, she’s never any trouble.” Frank nodded and then headed out to Bill’s Range Rover catching Fliss up.

“You do realise she’s gonna be up until midnight, pigging out on junk and watching movies right?” Fliss said as he reached her side, looping an arm round her waist.

“Yup.” Frank said “But she’s staying over there and not in the Annex, which means she’ll wake them up at stupid AM in the morning after no sleep and not us so I don’t much care…”

A little while later Frank guided her into Bongos Beach Bar and over to a booth at the far side. Fliss smiled as she recognised Greg, and Frank introduced her to his wife Zara, then his friend Jake and his fiancée Lisa. Finally she smiled at Simon who then excused himself heading off to meet his date at the door.

“Date?” Frank raised an eyebrow

“Yeah he’s been seeing her for about 3 weeks.” Zara supplied “He invited her tonight…”

“Ah, he’s back.” Greg nodded over Frank’s shoulder and he and Fliss turned to see the tall blonde man walking back with a familiar face by his side.

Oh for fucks sake…

“Bonnie…” Fliss smiled at her as the woman stilled when she saw her and Frank.

“You know each other?” Simon asked, frowning slightly.

“Yeah, errr…” Frank began, wondering how the hell he was going to get out of this when Fliss spoke up.

“Bonnie is, was, still is I suppose, Mary’s teacher.” Bonnie shot her a grateful look and Fliss simply smiled as Simon made a noise of comprehension.

"I should have twigged!” he said, as they both took a seat at the booth. Zara handed out a few glasses of prosecco from the bottle that sat on the table to Bonnie and Fliss who both thanked her, the men grabbing a beer from the bucket.

“Thank you.” Frank whispered into Fliss’ ear as she turned to look at him. “I didn’t know he was seeing her, or that she was gonna be here, I promise…”

Fliss frowned and shrugged “It’s fine.” she said, almost as if she was puzzled as to why he was apologising. The confusion on his face must have shown as she smiled and lay her hand on his knee.

“Frank, I don’t have a problem with Bonnie. I still think it was a stupid thing to do but…” she shrugged.

He smiled at her and dropped a kiss to her cheek. “You’re fucking amazing you know that?”

“Yep…” she popped the p, grinning at him as she took a drink from her champagne glass.

Fliss kept up with the conversation, but she soon realised that as nice as they were Zara and Lisa were just not her type of people. With both their husbands having well paid jobs, as a lawyer and a bank manager, both were stay at home mums with a lot of money to spend and time on their hands. Plus they clearly spent a lot of time together so a lot of the chatter they made between themselves, leaving Fliss to simply listen.

At one point she glanced at Bonnie who was sat, nervously twisting her fingers together before she excused herself and headed over to the bathroom. Fliss gave it a few seconds before she too did the same, Frank moving so she could squeeze past him, hands falling to her hips as she went.

“Hey…” Fliss looked at Bonnie who was stood leaning on a sink. “You ok?”

“Yeah, I err, well, I don’t know about you but I feel a little out of place. I mean they’re nice enough but…“

"Kinda feels like we’re outsiders.” Fliss nodded finishing the sentence for her.

Bonnie snorted “I feel like they’re judging me a little. Like I’m a teacher…who has to work, and it’s not a great job…”

“Dude, I shovel shit for a living and Frank’s a grease monkey.” Fliss said causing Bonnie to snort. “It’s not that at all, they’re just friends and we’re…well…”

“Strangers…” Bonnie nodded.

“Exactly.” Fliss shrugged “Trust me, I’ve done the whole awkward social circle thing before, this…well, this is actually kinda nice in comparison. I met some real ass hats when I was with my ex. These guys are ok”

Bonnie smiled and then she grinned cheekily "Wanna go do tequila?”

“Fuck, yes.” Fliss nodded and they left the bathroom giggling, heading straight to the bar. Bonnie placed her order and slid a note over the bar as they both settled on a stool. Fliss glanced round to the booth where Frank was sat talking to the rest of his friends before she turned back to Bonnie who slid her a shot over. Without a word they both had their salt, downed the shot, then bit into the lemon, both grimacing and laughing as Fliss ordered another two and asked Bonnie what long drink she wanted. Turns out she was also a gin and tonic woman.

“I’m glad you and Frank ended up together.” Bonnie said, smiling at her. “It’s nice.”

“Thanks.” Fliss smiled at her. “Kinda crept up on me a little, you know? I wasn’t looking for anything but…”

“I’m glad me and him didn’t ruin it.” Bonnie said gently “That entire night was a huge mistake…I could tell the day after he regretted it.”

Fliss shrugged “Well we all do dumb shit.”

“Say that again.” Bonnie mumbled as their second shots arrived along with their gin.

“You know when he told me he’d told you it was a mistake I went mad at him.” Fliss snorted “I mean, talk about a shitty thing to say.”

“Oh that’s not the half of it, he-…” Bonnie trailed off and shook her head as she took a drink of her gin. “Forget it, doesn’t matter.”

“What?” Fliss pressed.

“Nope.” Bonnie shook her head firmly.

“You can’t just say that and not tell me!“ Fliss whined as Bonnie downed her shot, before she sighed.

"He called me by your name, twice.”

Fliss choked on her gin, her eyes wide “What, when you…”

Bonnie nodded.

“Ok, so I feel like I should be apologising…” Fliss said, “Not sure what for but…” Bonnie chuckled as Fliss shook her head and continued “How did you not rip his cock off…I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m very glad you didn’t but…”

Bonnie laughed loudly as Fliss sprinkled more salt onto her hand “It’s not a big deal, he was mortified when I told him.”

“So he should be…” Fliss said, as she picked up her tequila.

She turned to look at Frank who was now looking round the bar, questioningly. He spotted her at the bar and raised an eyebrow and she met him with a look of her own. “I’m dating an ass hole.” she said, turning back to Bonnie “He’s cute though.”

There was a pause before they both laughed, and Bonnie gestured to the empty glasses. Fliss shrugged and Bonnie, with a grin, ordered another 2 shots.

****

“So, how’s the new job Frank?” Simon looked at him and Frank smiled, taking a pull from his bottle.

“I don’t start until January.” he said, “But yeah, looking forward to it. Full time wage, benefits…what’s not to like?”

“And a boss.” Greg said, and Frank laughed.

“Well, be kinda nice not to have to think about where the next job is coming from.” he shrugged, “I still get to do what I enjoy but less stress…”

Greg, Simon and Jake all exchanged a look which Frank didn’t miss. He gave a sigh. “What?”

“Nothing…” Jake smirked “Just watching you finally growing up is bringing a tear to my eye. I mean, you brought a girl to our Christmas gathering, the first one ever…in the history of the Circle of Truth holding Christmas gatherings…”

"Yeah, I imagine this is what it’s like waving your kid off to university.” Simon nodded.

Frank raised his middle finger at them all, causing them to laugh.

“We’re only joking.” Simon said, winking “In all seriousness, it’s nice to see.”

Frank shook his head “You make it sounds like I’m some kind of utter disaster case…”

They all paused and once again looked at each other. “Oh fuck you.” Frank snorted as they all laughed again.

“Anyone seen the ladies?” Greg said, looking around suddenly.

“Oh, I think Zara and Lisa are on the dance floor…” Jake said looking round.

Frank glanced round the bar, looking and saw that indeed they were but there was no sign of Fliss. Or Bonnie for that matter. Fliss had gone to the bathroom a while back but surely it couldn’t be that long to pee, even if you were a girl.

“Oh, looks like our girls are getting on…” Simon said, nodding with his head to the bar. Frank turned in his seat and glanced over and saw Fliss laugh at something Bonnie said, before she licked a line of salt off her hand, downed the shot, and bit into the lemon. He couldn’t decide if he was relieved or a little weirded out at how cool Fliss was around the woman he’d almost ruined his chances with her over, but as he watched her cutting loose, talking to Bonnie, the two women locked in a very friendly exchange he felt his chest warm. Fliss had openly admitted to him not long back she was a little lonely, her own friends being in England and the ones she had in Boston, well, they’d not really been her friends, more his. He supposed it was nice to see her with someone like that, even if it as one of his one night conquests. As he watched Fliss spluttered on her drink and looked at Bonnie, another exchange was had before Fliss picked up her next tequila and looked at him. He raised a questioning eyebrow but all she did was smirk and turn back to Bonnie. With a slight shrug he turned to Simon.

“Wanna join em?”

Simon nodded “Yeah, why not.”

They excused themselves from the booth and headed over. Fliss smiled as Frank slid an arm round her waist and dropped a kiss to her neck, before Simon grinned and nodded as he added another 2 tequilas to their order.

Several more shots and gins later Fliss was drunk. So was Frank. Which was the reason the two of them had ended up on the outside beach dancefloor, dancing to some random Christmas shit. It was also the reason Frank’s denim button down was now un-done revealing his white sleeveless which he had on underneath, giving Fliss a perfect view of that collar bone tattoo she loved so much. It hadn’t surprised her in the slightest when he had explained where the words were from, being a man of philosophy and all that. She also loved the reason behind his Taurus tattoo, it being Mary’s zodiac sign. Basically her sailor underneath all his bravado was a huge sentimental sap. A huge, sentimental sap whose hands were once again now cupping her ass as they moved to the music. Fliss had long given up reaching around to restore them to the bottom of her back and simply smirked to herself slightly as she looked round the dancefloor and out across the dark ocean.

“Still not right.” she murmured.

“What?”

“This…” she made an elaborate gesture with her arm and hit a guy next to her. “Whoops…sorry.” she grimaced as Frank snorted, the guy simply shrugged and carried on his way. “I mean…no snow at Christmas…”

“Yeah but, you’re outside, on a christmas dancefloor, on the beach” he shrugged “I mean it’s kinda cool…”

“Suppose…” she said, and then she paused, and Frank watched as a gorgeous grin spread across her face whilst she cocked her head to the music. It had just morphed into Fairy Tale of New York and she let out a whoop “I fucking love this one!”

There was a loud cheer from someone and suddenly the two of them were squashed together as Simon and Bonnie appeared, followed by the rest of the group and they found themselves in a circle, arms tangled around shoulders, the girls singing the girls part and the boys singing the boys part. At one point someone dressed as Santa muscled into the middle of the group, simply giving a loud cheer before he exited and moved elsewhere, causing Fliss to snort hysterically, hanging onto Frank’s arm as she did. As the song ended, everyone belting out the last line the group descended into giggles and Frank just watched his girl. Her cheeks were flushed, hair was slightly frizzier now thanks to the humid outdoor air and she was absolutely the wrong side of wasted but god did he love that woman.

He loved her.

Frank Adler, one time self-proclaimed bachelor, king of the Friday night fucks was in love. When did that happen?

As he watched her lean in and say something to Greg who burst out laughing he realised he couldn’t pin point it. It had crept up on him, like a slow burn, a deep fire in the very core of his belly. And damned did that fire feel hot.

Frank reached for his girl and pulled her away from Greg. She stumbled slightly into his arms and she looked up at him, giggling a little and he cut her off with a deep kiss. And before he could stop himself, he blurted it out, right there in the middle of a temporary beach dancefloor.

“I love you.” If anyone else in the group had heard they were tactful enough to all turn away, pretending not to, but there’s no way they could have missed Fliss when she pulled back, a look of shock on her face which morphed into a grin and she pointed at Frank.

“Youuuu loooooveeee meeee!” she said in a sing song voice. Frank felt himself blush.

“Yeah, do you hafta announce it to the entire of South Pass?” his Boston accent dripped off his tongue. “Youuuu loooooooveeee meeee!” she said again and he groaned, pulling her closer. She leaned up so she could whisper into his ear, and damned the touch of her lips against his ear aroused him far more than was appropriate for the middle of a public dance floor.

“Wanna know a secret Sailor?” she asked. He turned his head to look at her and she smirked at him “I love you too.” Well fuck.

Despite the fact they were both trashed, they both knew this wasn’t just a heat of the moment thing. Both felt it, both knew that whatever it was they had was different, special, a part of them now and Frank felt himself mimicking the stupid smile on her face. He leaned down to kiss her again, and her hands tangled into his hair, the feel of her delicate nails on his scalp sent hot pokers to his belly and his already half growing arousal was, well, aroused even more.

“And that’s even though you’re an asshole who calls someone else’s name during sex…” she said as he pulled away. With a groan Frank hung his head as her arms linked around his neck, his hands locking behind her back.

“You know about that?” he asked with a little hiccup. “She told you?”

“Yup.” Fliss narrowed her eyes “And FYI you do that to me I’ll cut your balls off and feed them to Thor.” “Harsh but fair.” Frank conceded after a short pause. She grinned and leaned up to kiss him again before she pulled away.

“Can we go now ‘cause I’m kinda horny.”

Ok, so Drunk Fliss was another Fliss to add to his list of favourite Flisses. Along with Sassy, shy, stern, sleepy, just fucked, just woken up…basically all the Flisses

“Nope.” he teased “I’m good here.” “Really?” she asked, pressing closer to him, tilting a little and he grunted a little as her hip bone pressed into his groin “Sure about that?”

“Yup…” he managed to squeak out.

“That must be a spanner in your pocket then. Or a screwdriver, or some other form of pointy tool…” she said, hardly able to finish the sentence she was laughing that much.

“Yeah, those…damned pointy tools…” he shook his head as he leaned down to kiss her. It was sloppy, open mouthed, full of tongue and absolutely filthy and left the pair of them in a bit of a daze. Frank pulled away and looked around, taking a deep breath “Ok, we can go now.”

Somehow they made it home in one piece. It took Fliss 3 attempts to get the key in the lock, the pair of them giggling like a couple of school kids, before she finally managed it and Frank leaned over and pushed the door open. Fliss stumbled slightly and Frank caught her, laughing.

“Shhh” he said.

“What for?” she asked, kicking off her shoes.

He paused for a moment and then shrugged “Actually I don’t know…”

“Idiot…” she sniggered, pushing his undone shirt down his arms before pulling at the bottom of his sleeveless. He moved so she could pull it over his head and as her fingers started to undo the button at the top of his jeans he reached round and gently found the zipper on her jumpsuit, sliding it down, his fingers gently skimming her back as they backed to the couch. Fliss fell over the arm with a thud, Frank following, before the momentum tripped him and he rolled onto the floor, pulling her with him, landing with a thud on his back. She fell on top of him, her elbow catching him in the ribs and he gave a loud huff, before she laughed and leaned over kissing him. His hands tangled into her hair, keeping her head angled perfectly, the kiss searing, leaving them breathless. Fliss pulled back and he brushed her hair back with both his hands, smiling softly at her.

“I meant what I said you know.” he looked at her

“Remind me again what that was…” she teased.

“I…” he leaned up and pecked her lips “love…” another peck “you.”

“Tell me when you’re sober…” she sassed back and gave a squeal as he whipped her over so she was on her back on the rug by the coffee table, framed between his strong arms and legs.

“In vino veritas.” he quipped and she propped herself up on her elbows, the front of her jumpsuit fell forward slightly and Frank blatantly stole a look down it at her lacy strapless bra, giving a groan.

“Yeah, and in vino a load of non-sensitas too…” she grinned and he gave a snort, as he dipped his head.

“Shut up.” he mumbled, his lips pressing onto hers again. ***** Frank groaned, blinking against the light that was streaming in through the crack in the curtains. Jesus Christ his head hurt. Rolling over he was met with a face full of hair and he blew it out of the way, smoothing down Fliss’s wild locks which were splayed all over the pillow. Gently sliding an arm under her neck he dropped the other one round her bare waist and pulled her into him, her back pressing to his chest as he snuggled close, screwing his eyes closed against the painful daylight.

“What year is it?” Fliss groaned and Frank chuckled slightly.

“Feeling rough baby?”

“Rough?” She croaked “I feel like I have a smurf in my head with a pick axe. This is all your fault.”

“My fault?“

"Yes you let me drink tequila with Bonnie.” “Ok, first off I didn’t know you were doing that until I saw you at the bar…”

“Yeah, and then you and Simon joined in…

“…and second off, you’re a grown ass woman. You make your own decisions.” She groaned again and then stilled “Fuck, we had sex last night…”

“Wow…” Frank said, laughing “Way to ruin my pride sweetheart…” “No I mean…” she shuffled onto her back and looked at him. “Did we…use…“

Franks eyes went wide. "Oh, erm…” No, no they hadn’t… fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I mean, come on, surely, we’ll be fine right?” he asked, “I mean, one time…what are the chances of…” “No, it’s not that I’m worried about.” she shook her head “I’m on the pill…I just..” she trailed off.

Frank propped himself up on his elbow as he cottoned on to what she was saying “Are you being serious?” he snorted.

“Well I don’t know where you’ve been!” she said indignantly “well, ok, maybe I know some of where you’ve been, but…” Frank snorted and shook his head “What do you take me for?”

“An ex ho?” she shot back immediately.

He fell onto his back laughing “If you must know I’ve never had unprotected sex with a one night stand in my life. And the other week I went and got tested, just for you. And I’m clean so…” “That’s so romantic… ” she grinned at him.

“Well I try.” he raised an eyebrow.

“Still love me?” she quipped and he turned his head to look at her.

“Fraid so.” “Too bad.” she teased, shuffling over to him “Coz that means you’re stuck with me…” “Oh no…” he said sarcastically as he turned onto his side, glancing down at her bare breasts “How will I ever cope?”

“Sure you’ll think of a way.” she arched an eyebrow before she suddenly went green. “Oh shit…” she mumbled, before she shot out of the bed and into the bathroom.

Frank listened to her barfing and snorted a laugh before he swung himself out of bed, glad to find his boxers on the floor by his feet. Although where the rest of his clothes where he had no idea. He knocked on the bathroom door.

“You ok?”

He heard the toilet flush and she emerged, wrapped in a robe and looked at him. “I’m never drinking tequila again. Ever.”

Frank had to hand it to his girl, despite her raging hangover she still managed to teach 4 classes of kids that day, and made it through to 9pm before she completely crashed on the sofa, falling asleep as the three of them sat in the apartment living room watching The Grinch, Mary’s choice. As the film finished at little after 10, Mary, who was lounging on Frank’s lap looked over to where Fliss lay, her head resting on the other arm of the couch, her feet nestled under his thigh, and nudged Frank.

“I know.” he said softly “Leave her be.”

Mary grinned and reached up to run her hand through his beard “you love Fliss.” He looked at her for a second, eyebrow raised “What makes you say that?”

“Roberta.” she shrugged.

Frank snorted. “Well, she’s not wrong.” “Did you tell her yet?” Mary looked at him.

“Yeah.”

“What did she say?”

“That she loves me too.”

Mary grinned “Lissy and Frank, sitting in a tree…”

He rolled his eyes as she chanted off the rest of the ridiculous rhyme and then looked at her “you finished?”

“Yup.” “Good, bed time.” “Awww Frank….”

“No arguments. Bill told me what time you stayed up till gone 1 am last night.” “Grass.” she narrowed her eyes.

“Yeah, you better believe it. Go on, wash your face, clean your teeth.”

“Shower?”

“Quit stalling Stack you had one when you got back from the stables…”

With a groan she pushed herself off his knee and he stood up as she headed into the bathroom. He pulled a fresh pair of pyjamas out of the clean pile of laundry he needed to sort that was on the chair at the back of the room and lay them on his bed before he moved over and knelt down by Fliss’ head.

“Honey…” he said gently, pushing her hair back off her face. “Baby…“

She made a noise as she wrinkled her nose, and he smiled as she blinked and looked at him.

"Oh, shit…sorry…” she said as she realised she’d fallen asleep. “What time is it?“” “Not too late.” he smiled “Just about to put Mary to bed. You staying here or…”

“Yeah if that’s ok?” “Course its ok.” he smiled.

She smiled at him as he dropped a kiss to her lips and then sat up, running her hand through her hair as she blinked, yawning. “Fuck I’m so tired.” She stood up, stretched and then smiled as Mary came back into the room. The girl shot Frank a filthy look and stalked past him into his room. “Ok, wow…” “She doesn’t want to go to bed.” he shrugged, “moody little madam.”

Fliss laughed as she headed into the bathroom. Frank sat down on the sofa and a little while later, Mary emerged and shot straight for her bed.

“Can I at least read?” she looked at him.

“10 minutes, tops.” he said, “Whilst I do the dishes…”

She grinned and he turned off the TV and headed into the kitchen, clearing away the remains of their takeaway, stowing the left overs in the fridge for lunch the day after.

In the bathroom Fliss was busy groaning to herself as she realised she’d come on. She knew she was due, but still, this was a pain in the ass. Sorting herself out, she washed her hands and walked into the kitchen. Frank looked up and raised his eyebrow, misinterpreting the look on her face.

“You been sick again?” he asked.

“No… ” she shook her head as she bit her lip. “Look, Frankie, I’m gonna go home…” “Why?” he frowned.

“I errr…” she flushed “I forgot…I…” she trailed off and his frown deepened as her hand moved instinctively to her stomach before a look of realisation crossed his features.

“Oh…” he said, nodding “Well, ok, if you’re more comfortable going home then that’s up to you sweetheart…” He dropped a kiss to her head and she looked at him, confusion flooding her brain. “You don’t want me to go?”

“Why would I want you to go?” he frowned.

“Because…” she looked at him, unable to voice what she was getting at. As a memory flooded her mind, one of John screaming at her for the sheets being marked, she was jerked back to the here and now as Frank closed the distance between them, tipping her head up to look at him. “Lissy, talk to me…”

“Sorry, I err…” she rubbed at her head “He used to make me sleep in a separate room…” “Are you for real?” Frank blurted out, and she could see the anger flooding his system. “Seriously?”

She visibly recoiled a little at his tone and Frank cursed himself as she looked at him, eyes wide as she began to apologise.

“Hey…” he said gently, reaching out to her. “Stop. You’ve nothing to be sorry for I shouldn’t have shouted I just….” he took a deep breath “That’s fucked up.” “Don’t you think I know that?” she said quietly, looking down as his hands rubbing her arms, before she looked back up at him, her eyes now had a fierce spark “You wanna know what’s really fucked up?“ When he was trying to get me pregnant, every month he’d stop me taking pain killers. Told me it was my own fault for not managing to conceive.”

“Jesus Liss…” Frank shook his head, as she shrugged, her head turning to the side. “Baby…” “Don’t” she shrugged “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” “Ok.” he said, nodding. “You wanna stay?”

She nodded, smiling softly.

“Good.” he said, dropping a kiss to her forehead before he moved away from her and reached over, filling the kettle.

“What are you doing?” she asked from behind him.

“Making you a tea.” he shrugged “Used to help Diane…”

“Thanks…” she said softly after a short pause.

“You got everything you need or you need to go the store?”

“I’m good.” she nodded “Ex Girl Scout, always prepared…” He gave a laugh.

“Think I might take another shower though, if that’s…” “You don’t need to ask.” he said gently

“Ok, well…” she nodded and he smiled, before she moved over and wrapped her arms round his waist, nuzzling into his chest. He gently rubbed at her back, before she leaned up, kissed him and headed out. The kettle boiled and he leaned on the side, dropping his head slightly. What kind of fucked up asshole did that to his own wife? To a wife he was supposed to love and protect no less. It broke his heart to think anyone could be so callous, so mentally and physically abusive to someone so soft, so gentle, so damned amazing….he looked up as he saw her making her way into the bathroom, bag in hand and she smiled at him, shutting the door.

Once he’d made them both a hot drink and grabbed the Advil, he made his way through to his room, placing one mug on the bedside table on the side he slept on and then another on the sill behind Fliss’ side and leaned on the doorframe, looking at Mary. She was still reading.

“Please just the end of this chapter…” she said, holding up the Harry Potter book. Frank took a deep breath, then decided fuck it. She’d fall asleep at some point, there was no school.

“Lights off after that.” he said “I’ll be out to check.” She grinned as he dropped a kiss to her head. “Night Stack.” “Night Frank.”

Back in his room he stripped off, tossing his t-shirt into the hamper before folding his jeans and dropping them on his dresser. He settled on the bed, stretching his legs out as he kicked the duvet down and flicked on the small TV, flipping through the channels looking for something to watch. Grinning when he found an episode of Family Guy, he turned the volume down low and had been watching for about 5 minutes when he heard Fliss talking to Mary who mentioned something about the book before he heard her bid her good night, and as Fliss opened the door he saw Mary’s light flip off.

He smiled at his girl who had her hair pulled back in a braid and was dressed in a pair of bed shorts and a tight camisole type top, her shoulders bare, long legs stretched as she dropped onto the bed besides him.

“You ok?” he asked, dropping a kiss to her shoulder as she reached round for the drink. She paused as she saw the Advil and then picked it up, smiling at him as she turned to face him.

“Yeah.” she assured him as he kissed the bridge of her nose. She tossed down two pain killers and sipped her drink, her legs bent in front of her as they sat in a comfortable silence, watching the TV, both laughing softly at the show. Eventually she placed the mug down and snuggled closer to him. He reached down for the duvet and pulled it up round their legs as her head lay on his chest, his arm falling round her, fingers lightly brushing down the back of her neck, shoulder and then up again. It was an action he knew she found comforting, and he was proven right as little over 15 minutes later he looked down to find her fast asleep.

With a soft smile he turned off the TV and gently moved her so that they were both lay flat and she gave a soft hum of contentment and snuggled into him closer. With a yawn he pressed a kiss to her head and closed his eyes.

******

The rest of the two weeks remaining to Christmas was spent in a whirl of tree-decorating, paper-chain making, shopping and eating more crap than Fliss had thought humanly possible. Steve and his wife Sian arrived on the 22nd and Verity cooked a huge family dinner where Mary was introduced to their twin boys. Frank watched her with interest, they were both her age and he was pleasantly surprised to see she actually seemed to mingle with them quite well. Steve was also noticeably warmer towards him too, which was a relief, and Frank was more than happy to take him out for a beer with Bill one evening whilst the women stayed at home and wrapped presents whilst drinking copious amounts of champagne. A Gallagher tradition Frank was informed, a tradition he eagerly told Bill he could fully get on board with, especially when Fliss had offered to wrap Mary’s presents as well.

By the time Christmas Eve rolled round Frank noticed that Fliss was ridiculously excited and was happy to admit it was because she was looking forward to spending it with him and her family. When Verity had invited him to join them for Christmas dinner he’d been reticent to accept at first, not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t want to put her out. When she’d told him she’d be more offended if he refused he’d relented and made the mistake of telling Mary who hadn’t let the subject drop for the last 2 weeks. Fliss joined them in their traditional Christmas Eve celebration with Roberta, where they exchanged gifts, Roberta made up with the chunky silver bangle Fliss had spotted in a shop and the photo frame which Mary had made one evening with Bill by glue-gunning sea shells onto a plain wooden one she had gotten from Target. Once they were done, they packed Fliss’ jeep up and headed off to the annex. After watching “Elf” in the cinema room with the rest of the family, wearing her new Chrstmas Pyjamas (another Gallagher tradition that all the kids in the family got new ones to sleep in on Christmas Eve) they three of them headed back over to the annex and Mary shot up to bed with no fuss at all, leaving Frank and Fliss to enjoy the rest of their evening which they spent making out like a pair of horny teenagers on the couch until they’d ended up fucking like a pair of horny teenagers on the couch too. Christmas morning Fliss cracked open an eye and grinned as she sat up, listening to Mary who was calling from the spare room, before she started to sing We Wish You A Merry Christmas, which was punctuated by barks from Thor. Besides her Frank gave a groan and she nudged him.

“Wake up scrooge.” “Fuck off.” he mumbled.

She laughed and nudged him again before she climbed out of bed, wearing his T-shirt and pulled a pair of denim shorts on “I reckon you got about 2 minutes before Mary barrels through the door…” "Fucking Christmas…” Frank said, but she caught the smile on his face as he swung his legs out of bed and stretched, the muscles on his back rippling as he did so. Standing up Fliss watched as he moved, his ass looking pretty damned fine in his boxers as he headed to the bathroom, banging on the spare room door as he did. Fliss heard it fly open and a few minutes later Mary came shooting into her room and bounced on the bed, a half-eaten chocolate Santa in her hand which she had unwrapped from her Stocking. Thor followed, taking up position on the foot of the bed and Fliss hugged Mary, grinning. She loved Christmas, she always had done as a kid. Granted, it hadn’t always been fun with he-who-shall-not-be-named, but the last 2 since leaving him she’d gotten that childish excitement back, and today was no exception.

“So, I just stand here do I?” Frank asked as he leaned on the doorway, gesturing to the now full bed. Fliss grinned at him and shrugged.

“We’re not staying here.” Mary looked at him “We got presents to open downstairs…” “Hmmm not sure we do.” Frank teased as he pulled a shirt from his bag in the corner of the room “I mean, does Santa know you’re here and not at the apartment…” Mary rolled her eyes “I haven’t believed in Santa since I was 5”

“What?” Fliss said, horrified “I still believe and I’m like 33!”

Mary gave her a scathing look. Fliss shrugged. “What can I say, I believe in Christmas magic” “I did…” Mary shrugged “Until he didn’t bring me a puppy.” “He doesn’t do live animals.” Fliss reasoned.

“Or a piano.” “Too big to fit on the sleigh.” “Or an algebra book I wanted.” “Yeah, why the hell would he bring you maths books?” Fliss snorted “That’s school work.” “I like it. "she shrugged, before she shoved the rest of her chocolate in her mouth and jumped up, bouncing on the bed. "Come on! Get up!”

Thor looked up, gave a huff and Frank told her to stop bouncing. She flopped down and looked at him, folding her arms and Fliss laughed “ok, let’s go!”

The two of them raced down the stairs, Frank following as Mary burst into the living room to see her presents piled by the sofa, and her eyes immediately went to the large wooden box which wasn’t wrapped that had her name painted on the side, and a large painted white pony on the top, resembling Monty. She moved to it and opened it, giving a squeal as she began to pull out the various grooming products that Fliss had bought her to make her own little pony box. As Mary began to hastily rip the wrapping paper off the rest of the pile of gifts, Frank moved to the tree and pulled out 2 boxes. One large, one small.

“Merry Christmas baby girl.” he said, dropping a kiss to Fliss mouth. She grinned and sat down on the couch, opening the little box first. Inside was a silver necklace a pendant in the shape of a Daisy which Fliss beamed at.

“I love daisies!” she smiled at him “They remind me of home.” “I know.” he smiled as she looked at it again before she moved to the next box. This was the one Frank was excited about. They’d cost him a small fortune but, turns out when you don’t spend every Friday night in Ferg’s you actually saved a fair bit of dough. Who knew? “Oh my god…” she whispered as she cleared the paper away from the contents and glanced down at the tan Cowboy boots. She took a deep breath as she picked one out of the box to examine the detailing on the leather before her eyes widened as she saw her name ‘Lissy’ stitched on the top.

“Do you like them?” he asked softly, although he could tell from her reaction that was a stupid question.

“Frankie…” she looked at him with tears in her eyes, God this man really did listen to every damned word she said. “I can’t…” she leaned over and gave him a kiss. “Thank you…”

He smiled as she slipped them on and stood up, giving Mary a twirl. There was something about her wearing them along with denim shorts that Frank wasn’t ashamed to admit he found a little arousing.

Frank laughed when he got his presents from Fliss, a new Paul Smith shirt, a Red Sox Cap and a new Samsung Smartphone as she informed him his Nokia had gone out of fashion in 2009. Which was before Mary was born, she pointed out. But it was the gifts they both got from Mary that surprised and reduced them to tears of laughter.

Fliss held up the cowboy hat, grinning from ear to ear as she slipped it on whilst Frank held the white Navy Captain’s hat up and shook his head. “Where on Earth did you get these?” he asked, laughing.

“Bill helped me.” Mary shrugged, looking up from where she was now jamming a pink Ariat baseball cap which she had just unwrapped on her head.

“Remind me to thank him later!” Frank rolled his eyes as Fliss snatched the hat from him and stuck it on his head.

“Mary, get in…” she patted Frank’s knee and Mary hopped up, as Fliss held her phone away from them, snapping a selfie of the 3 of them. Frank watched her as she smiled, inspecting it and he had to admit it was a pretty good snap of the 3 of them. All smiling, all wearing some form of head gear, and for the first time in as long time he realised he was enjoying Christmas morning because HE was having a good time, not just Mary. To him it normally meant a fuck load of expense and the fact another year was rapidly drawing to a close. But he was more than happy to draw a close on 2017. Not simply to shut the door on a mentally draining court fight, but also because he was looking forward to the future. He was starting a new job, would be in the market for a new home and moving through all of those changes with his girl by his side excited him instead of filling him with dread.

As Mary slid off his knee to examine another present he turned to Fliss who grinned, knocking his hat off his head.

“Merry Christmas cowgirl.” he grinned,

She smiled, leaning over to kiss him “Merry Christmas Sailor!”

#frank adler x ofc #frank adler #gifted #gifted fan fic

75 notes · View notes

cheeky-kookie · 4 years

Text

Off Key | M.Y.G.

Yoongi/Reader | Angst, Fluff, Slice of Life | Pianist!Yoongi x Harpist!Reader

Word Count: 12.7K

Summary: Dedicated to your own work, you thought the idea of interacting with anyone was a waste of valuable time and, even more so, a distraction. Yet, after an unfortunate run in with a classmate you find yourself offering up your own time in hopes that his talent doesn’t go wasted.

A/N: I didn’t expect this one to be so long but here I am. It took me forever to write this one in-between working and fighting a major dip in my creativity but here it is. I’m very happy with it and I hope you all like it!

Breathe.

His fingers lingered against the keys as he tried to bring himself to touch down onto them. His heart rate was through the roof, causing him to sweat more than he would have liked to in front of so many people. He has been working up to this moment for months now, but it was much easier said than done.

He liked to say he was a confident man, at least confident in himself, but with all eyes on him he felt himself shrink into a nervous wreck. A lot was riding on this and it wasn’t just his pride, but his future. That idea in itself felt suffocating. He let out a shaky breath.

Well, it was too late to run.

The arts, you find, tend to be a very competitive field of work. The farther you went to further your education the less and less friendly your classmates became as they slowly focused more on themselves and less on how to be a genuine human being. Granted, there were exceptions to the theory you formed in your mind, but you stand by it for the most part.

When the people you thought were your friends heard you got accepted into the school you’d been driving to get into since your decision to pursue music, they suddenly decided that you, in fact, were not their friend. It didn’t matter though because where the school was, you had to completely relocate your life. Losing some of the weight of back home actually helped the move feel less detrimental.

The jealousy and competitiveness didn’t seem to disappear even in a whole new city and school. You had told yourself not to care and to not get attached to people. You’ve become accustomed to the cold shoulders and snobby looks of the industry that you weren’t even officially in it yet.

It wasn’t like you didn’t try to make friends. You made a few good acquaintances since you had been there, but they only were part of your life when you or they wanted to go out and do something in the city. It was not safe to venture alone in such a largely populated space, so having those select few you could rely on was comforting. Though, you didn’t see much of them otherwise.

But what good was there to truly get close to someone? The idea of others brought into account a whole list of distractions to take you away from your classes and everything you worked hard on achieving. You gave up a lot to be here; you weren’t about to give this up too.

You clicked your pen, causing the tip to retract back into its home. The class you were currently in was just one of the many different music theory classes this particular school had to offer and one of the many you had to take for your studies. You had finished the notes and all you had left to do was wait until the professor to dismiss the class.

Everyone seemed fixated on the board still except for one. The man who sat across from you in the semi-circle had never really paid attention to the class since you had started taking it a few months prior. He always sat slouched back, pencil in hand. His attention entirely focused on whatever paper he was noting on. Even when called upon by the professor, he would mumble some kind of half-assed answer before running his hand through his almost white blonde hair and staring back at the paper in front of him. He interested you, only because you were unsure why he even chose the class if he didn’t have any intention of participating.

Soon enough, the professor released the class. You, like many others in the room, closed your notebook and started shoving it into your bag. When you looked up, the man you had your thoughts on briefly before was gone. Your mind had started to drift into other thoughts when your shoulder got lightly bumped into. You looked up and stared at the source.

“What are your plans for this afternoon?” Kira, the source of the bump, spoke. She wore a mischievous grin on her face like she was up to no good, which was a likely case. She was one of the few girls you had come to know over time, though you never really felt comfortable around her.

“I was going to see if I could fit in some practice before I headed home.” You answer, knowing she wanted you to join her somewhere tonight in the many bars that graced the streets of the city. You weren’t feeling quite up for it, at least not at the moment.

“Bummer,” She pouted, “If you decide you want to do something, you have my number.”

With that, she disappeared somewhere in the mass of people maneuvering through the halls. Some people made a beeline for the on-campus cafeteria. Some found a couch and literally started taking a nap to pass the time. You on the other hand, had no other classes to wait for and none of that was where you were aiming to go.

You wandered the halls until you found the section of the school where things always seemed to be quieter. If you listened closely, you could hear the sounds of different instruments and voices echoing out. Each door holding a unique sound within. The practice rooms were everyone’s safe havens. It’s where one could be alone with themselves and their music.

You stop, leaning your head against a door that seemed quiet. Even though you heard no sound you wanted to make sure that there was no one in there playing. Not hearing a thing, you opened the door and wandered in. This was one of the only practice rooms that had enough room to hold the bigger instruments. You were afraid you had left your own at your place, so you were hoping to borrow one of the school’s.

You rounded the corner of the room to find the room to be occupied and your eyes widened at the sight. It always felt like an invasion of privacy to walk in on someone practicing, but there was no sound being played. His back was turned enough that the man sitting at the piano couldn’t see you, but you could tell exactly who it was. The mess of blond hair on his head and the grey hoodie gave him all away.

You watched as his hands hovered over the keys like they had his whole life. It was obvious he knew how to play even without him pressing a note down. You watched as he licked his lips and started to play. It was a simple start, but it sounded beautiful. You knew you should have started to leave but the sound had you frozen in place, completely enthralled with what he was playing.

Then suddenly, the room echoed with a note that was like nails on the chalkboard. You felt even worse for staying as you watched him bang both of his hands on the keys, causing an array of noises to follow the misplayed key. He then grabbed the paper that was sitting in front of him, frustration oozing out of him. He pushed himself off the seat cursing and headed right toward his bag, shoving the folders and papers he had sitting out inside.

That’s when he looked up and his eyes found yours. Your breath hitched because you knew you had somehow found yourself midst a very personal moment. His eyes held such a fiery rage in them you were afraid to do anything so the only thing you found yourself doing was running out of the room. You decided that you didn’t need to practice today and that drinks might sound at lot better than they did a half hour ago.

A week had passed since you had accidently walked in on that personal moment you tried so hard to forget. It was hard because you couldn’t help but replaying the melody he had played in your head. It was so simple but captivating. So, you were dreading heading into your music theory class hoping you wouldn’t be met with an icy glare.

The class went by antagonizing slow and for the first time since you started coming to this school you found yourself distracted in class. It was just hard to focus when you knew that the man across from you wasn’t paying attention to the sheet of paper he was writing on, but on you. It wasn’t a friendly gaze either, it was more of a dark glare. The kind of look that made you want to sink down into your seat and pretend you didn’t exist. You tried to busy yourself, but your eyes always wandered back in his direction.

For a minute, you let yourself wonder how such a beautiful, melodic sound came from a man with such an intimidating exterior but you had to remind yourself that just because someone doesn’t look or feel like the part doesn’t mean they aren’t it.

The hour and a half ticked by until there was around ten minutes left. The professor had left the projector on, letting the class finish taking notes. You had somehow focused yourself enough to be able to write everything down, considering. Just as you closed your notebook, the sound of your professor clearing his voice to get the classes attention filled the room. You looked up in his direction.

“I’ve been told to remind you all of the upcoming event that the school will be holding in the next few months,” His voice echoed through the room, “If you decide to do it, the concert will be an excellent way to get your name out into the field. Big names will be here. If I were you all, I’d attempt to try it out.”

As the professor dove into the little details of the concert event your eyes wandered away and landed on the man across from you. His whole attention had shifted from you, to the professor giving his speech. The contempt he had aimed in your direction washed away by what you could only describe as longing.

You weren’t sure why he wouldn’t take the opportunity. From what you remember of his piece he played in the practice room; it was beautiful. Longing shouldn’t be the look he should be giving the professor. Excitement should be coursing through his veins and electricity should be present in his eyes. But lo and behold the sadness that had set into his body. It confused you. It wasn’t necessarily your place to butt in and it would be against your nature to do so.

But even after the professor quit talking and class was dismissed, you found yourself preoccupied with your newfound curiosity. You looked up from shoving your notebooks back in your bag to see that he was still across from you doing the same thing. His icy demeanor changed into something more defeated.

You didn’t know why you were doing this to yourself but somehow, you found yourself out of your seat and standing in front of his. If he was aware of your presence, he didn’t make it known. He continued to shove his belongings into his bag. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. Your inner self was hating you at the moment.

“You should do it.” You said, breaking the silence.

He paused what he was doing briefly. You almost shied away at the wall you felt literally pushing you off, but you stood your ground. He sighed and mumbled something you couldn’t understand under his breath before continuing to zip his bag. Once his task was complete, he turned and looked up at you. The icy persona had covered him again like a mask. He raised an eyebrow.

“Should I?” He asked, not breaking eye contact with you. Sarcasm oozed from his voice and he obviously wasn’t asking it genuinely. Humor hung at the edge of his voice, like the idea you suggested it to him was hilarious. His glare not as intimidating as the other day now that you seen that he was in fact human.

“I know it’s not my place, but I know when someone is good at what they do. You are talented. It would be a pity to waste it.” You said, not breaking eye contact. You watched his eyes open slightly in shock, but it was quick. He didn’t let him slip for too long because a second later, his glare was back on his face.

You broke eye contact and adjusted your bag on your shoulder as you beelined towards the door to exit the lecture hall. You needed to wind down from whatever confrontation you had just experienced. You stormed into the direction of the practice rooms, determined to be able to get in one and borrow one of the school’s instruments.

Your eyes landed on the instrument of your choice. It was much larger than the one you owned. This was the iconic version everyone thinks of when they think of a harp; gigantic and golden. The instrument was graced with 46 strings which was a few more than the one you owned at home, but it was the same angelic sound you fell in love with when you first decided to pick up the instrument.

Sitting, you prepared yourself to play one of the few songs you knew from memory. You let your hands find the correct cords to pluck. You let yourself go, letting your hands move in the familiar pattern of the song. Just as you were about to play the part you loved; you heard the practice room door slam open.

Your attention was now focused on the direction of the door waiting for whoever entered to come into view. When the person who interrupted your practice came into view you really thought you would have been surprised, but you weren’t. If anything, more annoyed you were interrupted than anything else.

There standing in front of you, bag on shoulder and wearing a not too pleasant expression on his face was the messy haired blond from class.

“You do realize this room is taken right?” You asked, hands still about to pluck the strings in front of you.

“How about we just call it even for the last week.” He responded, dropping the bag that hung on his shoulder at his feet, kicking it toward one of the seats in the room.

Irritated, you slowly pushed the harp off of you, so it sat on the ground firmly once more. You then cocked your head to the side and eyed him down. You weren’t sure what he was doing here, and you weren’t sure if he was going to let you in on why he was. He did meet your stare though with his own. You weren’t sure what was lingering in his eyes, but it was different than any other time you locked eyes with one another.

“Look, I didn’t mean to walk in on you. I was going to leave but the song you were playing was so beautiful I kind of got distracted.” You admitted, coming to terms that your practice was fully interrupted, “Did you compose it?”

You seen him break eye contact before returning it, as if he was uncomfortable with the line of questioning. You didn’t blame him. It was a personal thing to ask but after seeing the meltdown he had after he played the wrong notes the other day, you decided that asking him personal questions didn’t necessarily bother you.

“Yeah,” He responded, his eyes breaking away from yours once again. At this point, it was hard to believe this was the same man who wouldn’t quit glaring at you in the classroom.

“For what its worth, I think it was a wonderful composition, well what I heard of it. For all I know, the ending could be bad or even worse, that note was actually in the piece.” You joked, hoping to ease whatever tension had formed around him.

You watched his reaction carefully knowing it was a risk to joke about someone’s work and, let alone, their failures. His eyes narrowed at you, and for a second you thought you had severely angered him. But a second look over you noticed the corner of his mouth had turned up ever so slightly into a tiny smirk.

“You’ll just have to keep wondering,” He replied, leaning down to pick up the bag he tossed on the floor moments earlier, “I just realized, I have somewhere to be.”

You raised an eyebrow at him as he began walking toward the door to exit the room. You weren’t expecting him to leave. You thought he had full intentions of driving you out of the room as revenge for the other day, but there he was leaving you there.

“Oh, and by the way,” He called back to you as he rounded the corner to the door, not once turning around to look back at you, “I respect talent and you have it.”

At that moment, you appreciated that he didn’t look before he left because you felt your face burn up at the complement. Shaking your head, you repositioned yourself with the harp and proceeded to go back to practicing in the quiet left behind.

The next week had kept you busy. For starters, your harp had a string that decided to break. It wasn’t like it was a hard thing to find. It was just an inconvenience to you. Honestly, playing your harp was sort of your escape from life. When you played you were able to just get lost in the music and think about nothing else.

Then you had about three essays due for a few of your classes. Again, not much of a hassle but time consuming. On top of that you also had Kira and the others begging you to come out every other night. You didn’t blame them because you hadn’t been out with them in a couple weeks, so you made time to go out with them once as well.

Sighing, you placed the paper due for your music theory class onto the professor’s desk. You hoped you did well enough. It wasn’t like you were failing the class, actually you had a high grade, but you didn’t want it to tank.

You felt another presence beside you and watched as another hand placed a stapled stack of papers on top of the ones you just set down. You looked up and met the eyes of the now sort of familiar man. The corner of his mouth pulled into a smirk at the sight of your widened eyes before heading to his usual spot. You peered down at his paper and found his name typed right where it should be.

Min Yoongi

You were closed off to the majority of people here and you only really concerned yourself with those who mattered. So, knowing the names of your classmates was not on the top of your to-do list but the circumstances of the past two weeks had you curious of him. Part of you cringed at the fact you went out of the way to learn his name, but what’s done was done.

You made your way back to your seat to await the arrival of your professor. He didn’t come in late often but today was one of those days. Just as your mind began to wander from what it should be focused on; the professor walked in and started the class.

Time seemed to tick by a bit longer than usual, which you chalked up to the already long week you had already. You found your eyes wondering to the man across from you. He had the weight of his head resting on his hand while he focused on whatever he was working on. Now that you knew he composed his own music, it made sense to you why he was always so absorbed with what was in front of him. He peered up meeting your eyes for a brief second before he looked back down at his work.

After a wait, class had ended, and you were packing up your things once again. You picked your bag off the ground and started shoving your notebook into it. Suddenly, you saw a piece of paper land on the table in front of you. On it was a music staff with notes scattered about it. You read it, noticing it was the piece you heard Min Yoongi play on the day when you walked in on him. You looked up, meeting his eyes.

“If you want me to do this, you’re playing the song for me.” He said.

You stood up, throwing your bag on one of your shoulders. Then you grabbed the music sheets from the table making sure to hold them lightly in your hands. You gave him a soft smile. His seemed completely composed but you could tell this was a lot for him to do.

“This is composed for a piano,” You said, starting to walk towards the door. He followed alongside you.

“I can tweak it,” He responded, like changing the whole entire thing wasn’t a lot of work.

You didn’t want to talk about this in front of everyone roaming the corridors. He seemed determined that he wanted you to perform his piece for everyone to see but you couldn’t understand why he didn’t want to perform his own. From what you could gather about his playing, he was a professional. Everything he did while he was at the piano screamed that he had done it for years. But when he messed up, his reaction afterwards wasn’t just frustration but pent up anger.

“I’m getting something to eat. Do you want to come?” You asked.

He agreed, so both of you went to the on-campus cafeteria. It was a large room filled with tables and people trying to buy some time before they needed to go to their next class or felt a surge of hunger within the day. You ordered a few things from the menu and he opted for a bag of chips and a bottle of water. You walked to a table tucked away from the main ruckus of the cafeteria so you knew the two of you wouldn’t be bothered.

He sat across from you, waiting for you to say something. You still had his composition in your hands, but you were in no way going to take it off his. This was his work and he should show it off. You took the sheets and placed them gently in front of him.

“This was made for a piano, as in, you need to play it.” You said, locking eyes with him.

“As I said, I can change it to be played by a harp.” He shrugged, ignoring the papers that were slid back in front of him. He opened the bottle of water he had sitting next to him and took a sip from it. He ignored the second attempt at your denial to play his work.

“I don’t understand why you don’t want to do this yourself. I barely know you. You barely know me. Hell, you don’t even know my name.” You said, popping a french fry into your mouth.

“I know your name,” He shrugged like knowing your name wasn’t a huge deal when neither of you had actually introduced yourselves to each other. He leaned back in his chair, “It’s Y/N, and do you really think I’d ask someone I don’t know at least the name of?”

You shook your head at him, “I’m not doing it. I’m sorry. You need to play your own work. I don’t feel right taking the performance credit on a song I didn’t write when the composer is talented enough to do it himself.”

His eyes searched yours and you wondered what he was looking for in them. You were being sincere. He was probably one of the most talented pianists you’ve met and that was saying a lot since you’ve been surrounded by musically proficient people since you decided this was where you wanted to go with your future.

“Min Yoongi,” His eyes widened at the mention of his name, “Why are you even here, in this school, if you aren’t going to do something with what you’re learning and accomplishing here? I’m only assuming you’re here because you like music and you’re good at it. To me it feels like you’re throwing your future away if you don’t do it yourself.”

You watched as he opened his mouth and closed it again. He didn’t look at you, but he focused his gaze on a wall somewhere to his right. Even with him avoiding your glance you could see he was going through something in his head because his eyes were muddied with emotion that his face wouldn’t register.

“You’re right,” He said, finally registering you again after a minute or two had passed by, “I just can’t seem to be able to play and I figured if you did it, it will still get out there.”

“You can play. I have seen you play,” you said, “I could help if you wanted but I’d understand if you don’t want my help.”

He sighed, “I feel like I’m beyond help at this point.”

“No one is beyond help, Yoongi.”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, readjusting his crossed arms. He finally adverted his gaze away from the wall he was focused on and met your eyes. Emotion still hidden somewhere within them but you could tell he pushed it father back trying to lock it away.

He finally acknowledged the sheets in front of him. He recovered a folder from within his bag. You noticed that he had papers just shoved wherever they seemed to fit. Half of them crumpled and half of them bent where they shouldn’t be, but the music sheets went into the folder where he then shoved it back in his bag crumpling the stray papers even more. You found it endearing that they were the one thing he cared about within a bag full of disaster, but you weren’t going to say that.

“Meet me in the practice room tomorrow after classes are out. If we’re doing this, we have to get started as soon as possible because I’m going to be a lot of work.”

With that he was gone, leaving you to finish eating by yourself.

The next day seemed to drag on. The day wasn’t necessarily filled with classes you enjoyed, and you would gladly blame the boring classes rather than admit that you might have been slightly nervous to meet Min Yoongi after it was all done.

When your final class got dismissed, you packed your things up and left the room with slightly more haste than usual. When he had talked to you the day before he had never stated a time and you wondered whether his classes ran as late as yours or if he got out some time earlier and thought you might have ditched him.

It occurred to you though, once in the practice hall, he might not even show up. You slowed your pace at the realization that you rushing there might have been completely useless and a waste of time. You still proceeded to the room that you two seemed to keep running into each other which also was one of the only rooms that held a piano within its confines. You leaned against the door to listen in, to see if there was someone in there, but you heard nothing. Taking a deep breath, you entered the room.

Once around the corner of the practice room, you expected to see no one, but you were wrong. You were met with the back side of the man you were going to meet. He was positioned at the piano but in no way properly positioned. When he heard footsteps, he turned around on the stool. He gave a half assed smile and waved at you.

“How long have you been here?” You asked him. He shrugged before lifting his wrist and checking the watch that resided there.

“Maybe a half hour. I got let out of my class earlier than expected.”

You noted that he had no music sheets sitting in front of him and you wondered why exactly he had been sitting at the piano, but it wasn’t your business to ask. You moseyed your way over to the chairs positioned on the wall and set your bag down on it. You felt eyes on you, but you ignored it until you were done setting your things down. When you turned back around you met his eyes.

“I guess we should probably start with a song you’re comfortable with. Do you have one?” You asked, cocking your head to the side along with your question.

He leaned forward, placing his arms on his legs and interlocking his hands. He seemed to be deep in thought. You waited patiently for a response. When you did, it wasn’t vocalized. It was just a mere shrug of his shoulders and a distant stare focused somewhere other than you.

A sigh escaped your lips, “If you don’t work with me, you won’t get anywhere.”

Still you were met by a silence. When you offered your help, you weren’t aware that he was going to be this difficult. He hadn’t even touched the piano since you made your appearance into the room. Maybe you pushed him into something he didn’t want to do. You had to remind yourself he sought you out. You gave your opinion, but he did not need to reach out. He wanted this.

With another deep breath, you walked toward him and shoved his shoulder a bit causing his attention to return to you, “Will you move over? I’m trying to sit down.”

His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, but he moved over like you asked. When you settled into a spot next to him, he maneuvered his way back to facing the keys of the piano. He only did out of curiosity of what you were doing. You settled your hands against the keys.

“Do you know Heart and Soul?” You ask, starting to feel like you were talking to yourself. To your surprise, he answered you.

“Yeah,” He paused, “But it’s a duet. I used to play it when I was a child.”

You watched him tense up and look away focusing on the keys of the piano, but you chose to ignore it and continue with what you were talking about, “Okay, then let’s play it.”

“What did you say? You play piano?”

“I’ve dabbled in piano but in no way am I good at it,” You answered him and then turned your attention to him specifically, “Why did you think I made you move over?”

His response was a shrug, which you weren’t entirely surprised about. You only recently found out he communicates with words other than shrugging, glares and mumbles. So, him shutting down and not answering you didn’t necessarily bother you as much as you thought it might have.

In all honesty, you were amazed by him. When he prepared himself to play, it was like watching a whole different person take over. He straightened his back and placed his hands so delicately against the keys. His feet found the correct pedal he needed. You were so absorbed with his change in presentation you were thrown off guard when he turned his head and peered at you through his bangs that seemed to rest perfectly against his face.

“You ready?” He asked, you could hear the nerves in his voice.

“If I mess up, you can’t judge me.” You say to him.

He scoffed, “As long as you don’t judge me when I do.”

With that, the two of you began to play. He started with the lower end since he was seated on that side of the piano. You followed along, listening to how elegantly the notes seemed to flow from his end. Obviously, he knew a more advanced version than you ever dabbled in, but you figured the higher part would be pretty much the same. Just when you were about to play, a note was played that almost hurt to hear.

Yoongi slowly pulled his hands from the keys and you watched as he balled one of his own hands into a fist. He closed his eyes. You could tell he was calming himself down as well as beating himself up for the mistake. You wondered if he was restraining himself from a fit of rage, like the one you seen a few weeks ago.

“This is useless,” He said under his breath, letting his hand fall from a fit and his eyes open. You watched him shield away whatever vulnerability that was just shown.

“I’m sure you made mistake before, don’t beat yourself up over it. You said you learned it as a child, right? I’m sure you made mistakes then too. What would your mom had said to you?”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes again, tension settling back in his body, “Breathe, try again.”

“So, that’s what we do. We try again.”

A few weeks had gone by since you started trying to help Yoongi out of whatever funk he was in. The longer you spent time with him the more you realized that his inability to play wasn’t due to lack of practice or commitment, but something deeper. You still didn’t consider it your place to ask him, so you didn’t. Instead, you dealt with his mess ups and bullheadedness.

Whenever you tried to pry just a little bit, you got shut out. His attention would switch to anything else in the room besides you. So, you just decided not to try to dig into it anymore. There was progress made, for sure, but he still couldn’t get through a song. He seemed to get progressively more fed up with himself as he kept messing up songs he used to consider easy.

When he would get too mad at himself, sometimes you’d just leave him to cool off. He was good at controlling his anger for the most part. You would go find the harp and play until he was ready to play again. Part of you felt like listening to you play helped clear his head, or maybe you were imagining it. Either way, meeting up became a routine you both kept to.

Your interactions though barely existed outside the inside of the practice room. You two only shared one class and running into each other on the campus was rare to say the least. Even then, the two of you would just quietly acknowledge each other then continue on your way, not wanting to disrupt whatever the other was doing.

You were absorbed in your own thoughts while you waited in line at the cafeteria when a hand landed on your shoulder. You jumped, only to hear the familiar giggle of Kira next to you. You placed your hand on your beating heart and stared at her wide-eyed.

“You scared the crap out of me.” You told her, she continued to giggle.

“I didn’t mean to, swear,” She said, holding her hand up, “If you paid more attention to your surroundings you might have seen me coming. I waved to you like twice before I came over here.”

“Oh,” You said. You didn’t realize you were that into your own thoughts. You did have a ton going on in your life though, so you weren’t surprised.

“You haven’t been out with us in a while. What have you been up to?” She asked, stepping with you in line as you moved up slowly towards the counter.

You really couldn’t tell her that you had been avoiding her and the others because you were tucked away in the practice room with Min Yoongi. From what you gathered; he was a loner. You didn’t have many friends, but you weren’t even positive if he had any. He always seemed to be alone and you were positive that’s just how he liked things, which you understood. If you told Kira you were with him almost daily within the walls of the practice room, she would just assume the two of you were messing around. That was most definitely not what was happening, and you just knew he would hate it if that was spread around.

“Sorry, I’ve just been busy practicing per usual. I didn’t even realize it has been that long since we all went out together.” You lied, which stung, not because you lied to her but because you realized you hadn’t been practicing like you should have been.

“You deserve a night out. You have to come out the next time we decide to. I understand practicing as much as the next person, but you cannot let it consume you.” She said, reminding you that she too had an instrument she was dedicated to.

You nodded before turning to the lady working the counter and asking for your food. Then you proceeded to turn back around and look at Kira who had within that time ordered herself a drink and was sipping it through the straw.

“You’ll just have to let me know,” You said, sending her a small smile. She gave one back before deciding to disappear back within the crowd of the lunchroom.

Once you paid for your food, you proceeded to make your way away from the mass of people and to the other end of the building where the practice rooms were held. You found the usual room and for the first time in a few weeks, you heard the piano playing before opening the door. A smile graced your face as you rounded the corner.

Upon hearing the door swing open, Yoongi quit playing notes on the instrument in front of him and turned on the stool to see you walk in. He wondered why you held a smile on your face but he wasn’t going to ask. He did note that it was a nice change to see a smile than your usual focused expression.

“Took you long enough,” He joked, watching you walk to one of the chairs and set your bag down. You unzipped your bag and grabbed a bag of chips and a bottle of water and tossed it to blond positioned by the piano.

“Think fast,” You said as he indeed caught both the bag of chips and water in his hands, “And the line in the cafeteria was longer than I thought it would have been. Plus, Kira stopped me in line to talk to me.”

“Who?” He asked, a confused expression crossing his face.

You giggled, “I guess you wouldn’t know who she is. She’s someone I sometimes go out to the bars with.”

“So, some may call that a friend?” He said, a smirk playing on the corners of his mouth. He opened the bag of chips and ate one waiting for a response.

“I guess,” You shrugged, “But we barely ever talk outside of going out. Maybe an acquaintance is a better word for our relationship.”

“Maybe you should make some friends outside of me.” He said. His smirk didn’t weaver from his face as he watched your eyes widen and your mouth drop slightly at the sentence.

“Who even said I consider you a friend?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He shrugged, “I consider you one.”

You stopped and just looked at him. His smirk had dropped, and his eyes were focused on the lid of his water bottle that he kept unscrewing and screwing back. You felt guilt from cracking the joke you did at him and shook your head at yourself.

“I consider you one too,” You said, his eyes breaking away from his hands and looking at you. The corners of your mouth turned up as you decided to change the subject away from the current conversation, “Let’s get to practicing.”

Another week had passed and without much luck. The two of you had been spending about everyday after class trying to get him to play the song that he wrote without him messing it up.

With the competition closing in within the next couple months, you hoped to see some progress. And that you did. You were hearing parts of the song you never dreamed of hearing at the beginning, but something always seems to make him stumble. You could tell every time he did, he lost a little faith in being able to get the piece down.

You found yourself daydreaming in the middle of Music Theory, which wasn’t necessarily you. Being distracted wasn’t what you were known for being and you found yourself blaming the lack of sleep you had been getting from staying up late to play your own instrument. That was, all in all, your choice to do it and you couldn’t blame anyone else for your choice.

The professor, having somehow rushed through the class a lot quicker than usual, decided to dismiss everyone early. You began shoving your notebook into your bag when you felt a presence next to you. You finished your task at hand before looking up and meeting the eyes of Yoongi, who for the first time waited for you before jetting to the practice rooms. He seemed to be in a decent mood today which you thought would possibly play in both of your favors for practicing.

The two of you wandered into the lunch area and grabbed some snacks before making your way to the other side of the school. Well, not before Kira made a surprise appearance scaring both of you in the process. She had a knack for scaring you. She didn’t even seem to bat an eye that Yoongi was with you, as if it was an everyday occurrence. Well it was, but she wouldn’t have known that.

“I just don’t see why you deal with her to be honest.” Yoongi said, throwing his bag down on the ground by the piano. A hint of humor played on his words, but you knew it was partially a true statement by him. You have come to find that Min Yoongi doesn’t tolerate people who aren’t worth it and in his eyes, Kira wasn’t worth your time and effort.

“She isn’t all too horrible,” You say following his actions and tossing your bag on the chair, “Besides, who am I supposed to go out drinking with then? I don’t suppose you would want to?”

He shrugged sheepishly as he sat down on the stool in front of the piano, “I wouldn’t mind it.”

“I’ll take that into account the next time I want to go out. It’ll be nice to actually have a friend with me. Plus, it’ll keep the thirsty guys away.” You scrunched your nose in disgust only to hear him chuckle in response.

“I’ve heard those are the worst.” He said sarcastically, a smirk playing on his face as he looked in the other direction as if you were making a big deal out of nothing.

“Oh, they are,” You responded, throwing the bag of unopened chips you bought at him. He raised his arms in defense to block the incoming attack. The bag deflected and fell to his feet leaving him chuckling.

“Fine, I believe you.” He said waving his hands in front of him when he saw you had another bag aimed for him. You lowered your second bag, “But the real question is, when did you get all these bags of chips?”

“I have a stockpile. I like to snack.” You said, shrugging. He just shook his head at you before you sighed, “I guess we should get on practicing,”

Defeated, you watched the joy fade slightly from his face. Part of you wondered if the reason he hasn’t improved is because the practice time seemed to be getting shorter and shorter because the two of you kept finding things to talk about before actually beginning to practice. You weren’t mad, to be honest. You liked spending time with him. It just wasn’t the reason the two of you were cooped up in a practice room almost every day for the past month.

He did as you instructed and grabbed his sheet music that he wrote himself out of the folder he kept in his bag. He placed it on the piano and sat there staring at it. He had been playing his piece for a while now. After a few times of you butchering Heart and Soul, you decided it was best you stepped away from the piano and let him do his thing. If you were being honest with yourself, you were embarrassed to be so bad at an instrument he was phenomenal at. You were so bad in comparison; not like he would ever see that.

Per usual, he sounded like he had done it a hundred times over. The sound came out so relaxed and out together. Then, there it was, the stumble. An hour ticked by and you watched him progressively get more and more angry. You wished there was something you could do to help him, but you were at a loss. Only he could help himself. All you could ever really do, since the beginning, was support him through the process.

You heard the wrong key hit once again and you flinched at the ugly sound that was a complete contrast to the beautiful melody that was flowing from his fingertip’s seconds before. You watched his hands ball up and he got off the stool he was sitting in and walked off to the other side of the room. His breathing was ragged, and he ran his hand through his hair messing it up more than it already had been. When you seen his eyes, they were glossy. You wondered if they were that way from the anger or sadness. You knew for sure that he was trying not to lose his temper.

“Yoongi,” You said, he locked eyes with you and turned away as quickly as he looked, “Just come sit down and take a breath.”

“This is useless Y/N. I should just give up and quit making you sit through these shitty practices.” He said, still pacing and ignoring everything you tried to get him to do.

“First off, I chose to be here. I offered my help. You aren’t ‘making’ me do anything.” You said, standing up and making your point clear, “Second, this isn’t useless. You have gotten farther in your song than before. I just don’t understand why you keep having hiccups. You can do it. I can tell. Why are you so in your head about this? If you would just tell me why you-“

“It’s none of your business.”

His tone was cold and dry. It hurt but your stubbornness refused to acknowledge that you were actually hurt by his tone. His eyes served as daggers as they peered over in your direction. It was a complete contrast to how he was when you first arrived. Part of you wondered how he could hit the switch so easily and turn off his emotions. He had been so smiley but now; it just burned.

“Fine.” You said letting your irritation show. You went to grab your bag from where it laid. You walked towards the door and stopped in front of him, motioning between the two of you, “You’re right. I didn’t sign up for this. Let me know when you calm down and want to talk to me.”

With that, you left the practice room leaving him to mull over what you said.

A week passed and you found yourself out on the two with Kira and a few other girls. All of you first went to get some food at some restaurant that had become huge talk around town, though you didn’t really care about the hype. It did live up to its reputation at least. After that, they decided that everyone was to hit the bars, including you, but you didn’t mind. It was nice to get out after being so deep in your thoughts the whole week.

After the disagreement both you and Min Yoongi had, he hadn’t contacted you since. You were too stubborn to give in and message him. He asked you to help him. He wanted your help. But he wouldn’t give you the reason he truly couldn’t play. He was just as closed off as he was sitting with his head deep in sheet music in Music Theory. You refused to admit it bothered you.

But it did. You found that evident when you went to play the harp and it couldn’t even keep your mind off the tiff you both had. Practicing was hard when all you wanted was to help him play again. That in turn made you angry because this was the exact reason you had made no intentional friends when you moved to the city. You didn’t want to be distracted from your music and your goals. Look at where you were.

And yet, even having fun at a bar had you feeling down.

Kira had wandered off somewhere with a guy to go dance and you weren’t too sure where the other two girls had disappeared to. You sat at the bar, sipping your drink and listening to the music bump in the background.

“And what’s a girl like you doing sitting at a bar alone?” You heard a voice ask. You turned to look at the voice coming from your right.

It was a man, about mid-thirties or early forties. He looked well dressed and put together but the way he spoke gave away how long he had been truly drinking. Not only did he come off cocky, but he couldn’t say the sentence without slurring at least half the words. You wondered how any rational person would find that attractive, but you deduced that he probably wasn’t looking for someone with rational thinking.

Raising an eyebrow, you responded, “What’s a guy like you doing hitting on a girl who obviously hasn’t had enough drinks to even consider going home with a drunken man like you?”

The guy, not taking the insult well, scoffed and got out of the seat. You brought your drink back to your mouth and sipped the rest of it down, still feeling painfully sober. Then you slid it back to the other side of the bar, tipping the bartender.

You started walking towards the door. You met the eyes of Kira who was chatting up some guy by the jukebox. You motioned you were going outside. All you got was an understanding nod of her head as she dove back into whatever they were talking about.

The night air was crisp now that the season was getting colder, but the fresh air was what you really wanted. You closed your eyes and cursed to yourself quietly. As much as you should have been having fun, you just weren’t. The girls weren’t truly your friends, you knew, but the one person who was your friend hadn’t even tried talking to you. Sadly, it was the one person you wish you could be with.

You were scared. He hadn’t talked to you in a week and you were afraid that he had decided that you weren’t worth his time and his effort. You were afraid maybe he really didn’t value whatever friendship you two had created as much as you did. You were afraid he was done. And maybe you weren’t as sober as you initially thought because you wouldn’t be admitting this to yourself otherwise.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and searched through your contacts. Once the name you wanted was on your screen and dialing, you held it up to your ear.

It rang once.

It was late and he might not pick up.

Twice.

You didn’t even know if he would want to answer anyways.

Three-

“Y/N?” A voice answered, groggy by what you assumed to be sleep, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to call and say I’m sorry,” You said, finding a place against the wall and leaning against it, “I didn’t think you’d answer.”

It was silent for a second with only the sound of rustling coming from the other end then he responded, “Why did you think I wouldn’t answer?”

“I don’t know. It’s late. You were mad. A number of reasons.” You answered. He hummed.

“Well I did. Why are you up?” He asked, concern in his voice. You felt your chest tighten but you blamed the little alcohol you had in your system for it.

“Kira dragged me out. I’m not really feeling it but she drove. I’m kind of hiding outside.”

He laughed, “And calling me?”

“Yeah that too.” You sighed, looking up at the night sky. It was different than back home. There were no stars to be seen. All consumed by city lights.

“Where are you at? I’ll come get you.” He said, bringing your thoughts back down to your conversation.

“Not necessary, I can wait until she’s ready.” You denied. You heard him sigh on the other end.

“You shouldn’t have to wait until she’s ready, and anyways, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. So where are you at?” He asked but it felt more so like a demand. You didn’t mind though because the more he offered the more you wanted to take him up on his offer to take you away from the bar.

“You know that bar on the corner of Main and Second?” You said, “I’m there.”

“Be there in a few.” Was the only response you got before the phone went dead on his end.

You put your phone away and hugged your jacket to your body. The cool air was starting to get to you. After about ten minutes you saw a grey car pull up in one of the free parking spots in front of the bar. The drivers side door opened and out popped Yoongi. He walked around the front of the car, leaving it on, and stood in front of you.

You could tell he had definitely just rolled out of bed and threw a hoodie on top of whatever he had on underneath. His hair a little messier than usual but you could tell he tried his best to smooth it out before leaving his house. His eyes looked tired, but there he was to pick you up in the middle of the night without complaint.

He didn’t say anything as he walked over to where you had leaned your weight against the wall and did the same, occupying the space next to you on the wall. You slowly turned your head to the right and met his brown ones. Now that he was closer, you could tell you had for sure interrupted whatever sleep he had been getting because his eyes were still puffy and glossy.

“You really didn’t need to come.” You mentioned out loud, your eyes wandering back to the headlights of his car and the air freshener hanging from his review mirror.

“Too late to try to talk me out of it,” He said, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets, “I’m already here and out of bed.”

Rolling your eyes, you bought your attention back to him. He held a small smirk on his lips, and you knew he was only trying to get under your skin. It was almost like the whole outburst a week prior didn’t happen and it was back to witty remarks and jokes. You were thankful it wasn’t tense.

“You know what I meant,” You said, and he chuckled lightly.

“I wanted to talk to you anyways. I just didn’t know how to reach out after I made such a fool of myself.” He announced, all signs of his lightheartedness disappeared. He cleared his throat and continued, “I just have been struggling with this problem for so long now its hard to think positive.”

“The problem isn’t with your skill Yoongi. You and I both know you can play with the best of them. It’s deeper. I know you don’t want to talk about it. I never wanted to push you into it. Honestly, at this point it just makes me worry for you. It’s eating you up.” You said even surprising yourself.

A silence fell between the two of you leaving the sounds of the city and the music coming from within the pub to fill in the absence of words. If you had come to know Yoongi, which you would like to think you had over the past month or so, he wasn’t leaving you in silence because he wanted to. He was probably pulled into whatever was tearing him apart. So instead of breaking it, you just pulled your arms closer to your chest in hopes of keeping the chill breeze from freezing you out.

“You’re right, at least, I think you are?” He questioned himself shaking his head, “I’ve been sitting on what you said for a week and it wasn’t like I didn’t want to get a hold of you. I did. I just knew when I did, I needed to give you the reason why and that’s just something I needed to work up to and to come to terms with myself. “

“You don’t have to Yoongi.” You protested, shaking your head at him. He ignored you.

“It’s fine. I’ll be fine. You deserve to know.” He sighed, “When I was younger, my mother put me into piano lessons. I picked it up pretty fast, or at least that’s what she likes to say and brag about. I don’t really remember. I was too young. What I do remember is meeting this little girl at one of my concerts. She also loved piano. I don’t know what exactly caused us to be friends. Honestly, most of the early memories are fuzzy and run together. But we were friends for years. Best friends. She had this treehouse her dad built for her and we used to hide up there for hours playing board games and talking. Even as we got older and it got harder for both of us to fit up there, we still climbed up that tree.

“A few years into high school, she had gotten early acceptance into the school she wanted to go to. She was thriving. I wasn’t too far behind. My neighbor worked at the school here and said I had a talent for piano, so I wasn’t doing bad myself. Everything was going great until I just wasn’t.

“I got a call one day on my way home from a practice session from my mother. She was hysterical. I had never heard my mom sound so broken before. I somehow made out what she was saying between sobs. My friend’s mom had gotten into a crash with her in the car as well. Both in critical condition.”

You felt sick to your stomach because you had a horrible feeling you knew where this was going. You peered over at him. You would have thought he was fine if it weren’t for the streetlights highlighting the wet streaks going down his cheeks and his inability to look in your direction.

“When I got to the hospital with my mom, her dad was sitting in the waiting room. I guess the both of them got rushed to surgery and he was waiting for them to come out of it. We waited and waited. Her mom, she was critical, but she made it out of the operation room, as for her, she just was too unstable. She coded while on the table and they couldn’t revive her.”

“Yoongi, I am so sorry.” You whispered, afraid that anything you might have said would break him. He sniffled and wiped his eyes but made no other action to hide he had been crying.

“After that, I couldn’t seem to play correctly anymore. Every time I tried to play, it ended with a note being played wrong and me getting mad. I just feel like a giant embarrassment.” He sighed, finally looking at you for the first time since he had begun his story. For the first time, you could make a connection to the hidden emotion in his eyes because it was right in front of you now.

“Look, you aren’t an embarrassment. Just because you are struggling doesn’t make you any less of a person or an artist. It’s just something you have to work through.” You said softly, leaning your head to the right slightly so it landed on his shoulder, which normally you would have overthought. Maybe you were just tired from the long night, or possibly it was from the cold, or maybe you just really felt horrible for him and what he had been through, but you didn’t care what his reaction was going to be from you resting your head on his shoulder.

What you didn’t expect though was him wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer to him, “You should have bought something warmer to wear.”

You thanked him silently as his body heat warmed your own. You thought back to whether you made any indication that you were in fact cold, but coming up with nothing, you just decided that he had been overly observant. You weren’t sure why neither of you were smart enough to head to the running car that was most definitely warmer than the night air. You also weren’t sure why you felt your heart rate increase the moment he pulled you to him. What you were sure of was the fact Min Yoongi opened himself up to you at one-thirty-eight in the morning on the corner of Main and Second right outside a bar, which you find that you may never forget.

The realization that you almost lost Yoongi as a friend had really opened your eyes to your closed off ways. You decided that you weren’t going to let yourself get in your own way anymore. So, for the next few weeks you did just that.

The first thing you really tried to expand on was whatever you considered you and Kira’s friendship. You realized she might have valued the friendship way more than you did when she made her way out of the bar the two of you were at to find you. What she found was both you and Yoongi huddled next to each other on the wall just talking. You noticed how worried her expression was and then relief wash over it realizing you were fine.

So, you tried to spend time with her outside of the bars which she seemed inclined to do as well.

Another change you made was spending time with Yoongi outside the practice room, like normal humans might do. It led to not just countless hours in the practice room, which you saw major improvements in, but also many outside.

You hated the fact that the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be around him. Normally, you would have gotten annoyed with his nonchalant disregard for the movies you watched but then after, he would discuss the plot with you for hours. He had so much knowledge of random restaurants that were scattered in the city, and he always seemed excited to show you a new one. It sort of became a new routine for the both of you. You’d force him to see a movie, whether he liked the idea of it or not, then he would drag you to a restaurant and the both of you would talk about the movie and eat.

It was just easy to talk to him, even if it wasn’t about movies and food.

“Fancy running into you here,” The voice of Yoongi echoed in the still somewhat empty class. The class itself didn’t start for another ten or so minutes. The rest of the people tended to trickle in slowly as the time ticked by. Seeing him here early was not the norm either.

“Wow, what are the odds I’d see you in the one class we share together?” You said, fake shock dripping from your voice.

“You could sound more excited to see me, you know.” He said, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips.

“Forgive me for not waving my Min Yoongi flag and jumping up and down,” You said. You saw him throw his bag down on the ground. He slid into the desk next to you instead of his usual seat across the room. You cracked a smile, “I’m saving that for when you perform on stage.”

“Oh man, please don’t do that.” He chuckled, shaking his head at you.

“Too late, you talked me into it.” You joked back.

The professor walked in at that moment and that’s when you realized more than enough people had trickled into the room for the lecture. Both of you quieted down when he clicked his presentation screen and started to speak to the crowd. Both you and Yoongi locked eyes and you watched as he stifled a laugh by biting his cheek and looking away. You couldn’t shake the thought that in this moment, he looked undeniably cute.

The lunch area was more crowded than normal which meant the longer it took to grab some snacks after your last class. You knew Yoongi would beat you to the practice room and give you crap for being late yet again to one of your sessions. But you were starving. You hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast.

After grabbing both of you something to eat, you rushed through the mass of people in the area as quickly as you could without running directly into someone. It took you a few moments to make your way around to the other side of the building. Once in the practice hall, you slowed your pace and listened to the mixture of music coming from the many rooms. You stopped outside the room Yoongi mentioned, and you heard music coming from within. You felt your heart swell with pride knowing he was doing so much better than when you guys started.

You opened the door as quietly as you could, and you walked around the corner. You saw him at the piano playing some song you never heard him play before, but it was just as beautiful as any other time he played. You felt just as mesmerized by him as the first time you saw him play, maybe even more now that you knew him.

He stopped playing and slowly turned in his seat to look at you, “I could feel you staring at me.”

“It’s hard not to. When you play you throw your whole self into it.” You said, walking into the room the rest of the way and finding your usual spot. You opened your bag and handed him the few thing you grabbed from the lunchroom for him.

“Yeah, if you say so.” He shrugged, grabbing the food from you. He busied himself with opening the bag of chips you gave him and just for a moment you thought you saw his cheeks turn a twinge pink.

After the two of you ate and caught up on your day you decided he should at least get some practicing done. The concert was a little more than a week away now and you still haven’t heard his composition played through completely. You weren’t sure why neither of you had actually pushed to play the piece. Maybe part of you was scared that once he did, your whole world would change again and just when you were getting used to this one.

He pulled out his work and placed it in front of him. He prepped himself the way he always did and began to play. The first part was like you remembered, you heard it many times over. This time, he played past where he continuously messed up. You closed your eyes, listening to every note you had been waiting to hear for months now. Before you knew it, he played the last note.

You opened your eyes and looked at him. He was staring at the keys of the piano, eyes wide. Your mouth dropped and eyes widened as it slowly sunk in. He preformed the whole piece with nothing being off key.

“Holy shit,” You said, standing up in excitement, “Yoongi, you did it.”

His shocked expression faded when your words hit him. You had seen him smile many times, but you can say you’ve never seen him in complete and utter happiness. This, was that. His smile lit up his whole face.

You knew this was something he had been wanting since the beginning. He wanted his music shared and he was more than willing to give you the shot to play it just so someone could hear it. It wouldn’t have felt right though, because this moment right here, you would have been denying him if you took his offer. This was more than worth it.

You watched as he stood up and walked over to you, pulling you into an unexpected hug. He stood there for a minute just holding you to him, you obviously hugging him back. Pulling away he said, “Thank you, I owe you.”

His hands still on you, you locked eyes with him. You weren’t sure what you felt but you knew your heart was racing having him so close that you could smell his cologne radiating off his shirt. He wet his lips and that’s when you realized you hadn’t been breathing.

“You don’t owe me anything,” You said, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen between the two of you. You smiled at him and looked at the clock on the wall. “We have to celebrate though! We have time to catch a movie and get some food?”

He cleared his throat, and for a split second you thought you saw hurt pass through his eyes. He let go of you and gave you a half smile and rolling his eyes, “Are you really going to make me sit through another one of those movies?”

“You can pick this time since you accomplished something you thought you never would.” You said sending a cheesy smile his way.

“Oh, what an honor.” He said sarcastically. You both chuckled and grabbed your things, heading out of the practice room and to the theater to watch something.

Breathe

It was the one thought you kept repeating in your head, hoping it would somehow transfer into his.

He sat there at the piano, though this time it was in front of everyone. You felt your heart beating fast and you could only imagine how fast his was. You were waiting, waiting for the beginning you knew by heart.

He was dressed to the nines, wearing a black suit and tie. His blonde hair had somehow been tamed and laid nicely instead of tousled like he usually wore it. It almost didn’t look like Yoongi, but it was hard to mistake the way he sat at the piano and the focus in his eyes.

You saw the shaky breath he let out, but then, music happened.

It was just like in the practice room, but even better with the concert hall acoustics. The music seemed to slowly seep through all the isles and layers until the whole hall was filled with Yoongi. You watched the way he demanded the stage just by sitting there and playing his arrangement. Even if you didn’t notice him somehow, you would have known it was him by the way he played.

Just as soon as he started, it came to an end. The audience clapped, along with yourself. He stood and bowed to everyone before making his way off stage.

A few more people had to go before intermission, where you escaped to find him. You maneuvered your way through other acts once you made it backstage. You found him, leaning against the wall in the far corner. You weren’t surprised. He wasn’t a one for people.

Seeing him, made your heart melt. The past week, you hadn’t been able to shake that moment the two of you had in the practice room. Something had shifted and at the time, you didn’t like it. You still weren’t a fan of it, but you realized it was fear.

“Fancy seeing you here,” You said, cracking his lame joke from before. He looked away from his phone and met your eyes. He smiled.

“At the concert we both knew I was attending? No way.” He responded, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He did pocket his phone though as you walked towards him.

“Did you see my Min Yoongi flag? I even tried jumping but the old couple next to me frowned upon it so I stopped,” You said, knowing damn well you didn’t do either of those things. He knew too.

“I must have missed it. I mean, if you want to show me now, I wouldn’t stop you.” He said, grinning. You shook your head.

“I actually already threw it away. Too late, you’ll just have to see if I make another for next time.” You announced, “But on a real note, you did amazing.”

He shrugged as if it was no big deal, “Thanks to you. If I hadn’t met you, I’d still be messing up Heart and Soul.”

“Probably,” You said, “I can’t take all the credit though, you were the one who played it. I just supported you from the sidelines.”

“But you were so good at doing that.” He chuckled.

You looked in his eyes, and you just felt comfort. It wouldn’t have been something you would have said a few months ago when he was sending daggers at you from across the room. But, he was soft and genuine behind whatever façade he liked to show to everyone else. He had proved that he was there for you, even when you thought he wasn’t.

You would be lying to yourself if you told yourself you hadn’t been imagining what would have happened if you hadn’t interrupted the silence between the two of you before. You were tired of lying to yourself, because being honest, you had been doing it for a while. You weren’t sure where it started, but it had been a lot longer than need be.

Just do it, you thought.

Not giving it a second to process what you were about to do, you closed the space between the two of you. Wrapping an arm around his neck and the other in his hair, you pulled his lips down onto your own. At first, he didn’t do anything but once he realized what had happened, he grabbed your waist and fed into the kiss. It wasn’t hungry, though if it continued you could see it going that way.

You pulled away, letting your hands fall to rest on his shoulders. He still held your waist as he looked at you in awe. You could tell he wasn’t expecting that, not that he seemed to care. His hair, slightly sticking up now that you had grabbed it. In an odd way making it seem more like him than before.

“Maybe I should have musical breakthroughs more often,” He joked, breaking the silence that had fallen between the two of you. He let his own arms drop from your waist as you took a step back.

You rolled your eyes, “Maybe I should go back to my seat. Intermission should be done soon and it’s not like you could leave yet. May as well enjoy the rest of the show.”

“Do something with me after?” He asked, an odd amount of vulnerability in his voice you weren’t used to hearing.

“Of course,” You said to him, “I don’t see why I would want to do anything else.”

79 notes · View notes

gellavonhamster · 4 years

Text

good people

gen || Montgomery Montgomery & Bertrand Baudelaire || pre-canon

ao3 link eng || ao3 link rus

Monty Montgomery learned about the deaths of Count and Countess *** somewhere about two in the afternoon, in the lobby of the Biology Faculty of Gerald Durrell University of Natural Science. He didn’t know them personally, and that day he could not even recall their faces when reading an article about their deaths, just as many years later he could not – unfortunately – recall the face of their son, whom he did know personally back in the day and had met as often as not. At the same time, he could remember in detail the moment he heard they were dead – the hum of voices in the vast corridors of the faculty building, sunlight glistening on glass in the frames of photographs and newspaper clippings hanging on the walls, the sound of his own footsteps. He was descending the stairs, almost hopping like a kid because he had just managed to talk a teacher into letting him submit the report a day later, and consequently was in a splendid mood. Few things can compete with the joy that a student experiences when the deadline for a paper that still exists only as a title page gets postponed for a later date. Immersed in happy thoughts, he went down to the ground floor, and was just heading for the exit when he suddenly saw a crowd of students and teachers huddled together and discussing something animatedly. One of the students was holding a widely unfolded newspaper, and several people at once were reading something over his shoulder.

“Must be a change of government or something,” Monty thought as he approached them. Frankly, the prospect of writing a paper in two days concerned him much more at that time than a hypothetical coup.

“Ah, Montgomery!” shouted one of those reading the paper, Professor Stein of the Herpetology Department. Stein was always shouting: he had hearing problems. Now, on the other hand, a raised voice was more than appropriate, for too many people were talking at once.

“Good afternoon, Professor,” Monty gave him a nod of greeting as he joined the group. Getting closer to the paper was impossible – the crowd was too thick. “What’s the news?”

“A murder, Montgomery! A crime story at its finest; the whole city is going insane! Come read.” At that, Professor grabbed him by the elbow and pushed him into the middle of the crowd, so that Monty found himself right behind the left shoulder of the guy with the newspaper.

He took a look at the page, found the piece everyone was reading, and grew cold.

“Poison darts! With snake venom!” Stein exclaimed. Monty winced as if in pain. The loud noises around him were distracting; he wanted to read carefully, turn each word round in his head, persuade himself it was not what he thought it was. Coincidences do happen sometimes, after all. “And where – at the opera! Right during the performance!”

“Yeah,” someone to the right of the newspaper chimed in, “straight out of Gaston Leroy.”

“Leroux,” Monty corrected mechanically. He was suddenly overcome with fierce and helpless anger. He stepped back. “I’m sorry, Professor, I really have to go.”

Walking quickly, even quicker than back when he was urged on by the unwritten report, he headed for the door.

Well then, La Forza del Destino. Poison darts. Snake venom.

And his flatmate, who went to the opera yesterday and didn’t come back home.

***

Bertrand asked him to procure the venom about a week ago.

It might have been Thursday, or maybe Friday. Monty was writing a term paper then, one that he could not set about writing earlier because he was busy doing other things, from the tasks assigned to him by VFD to attending the parties organized by other volunteers, which in some cases seemed as important to him, even vital at times. VFD gave him time to deal with the exam period, relieving him from participation in any missions for the nearest future – the pursuance of science was highly valued among their ranks. Many volunteers flaunted some academic degrees, but not many of them got those degrees officially, even if they deserved them objectively. Some Doctors and Masters among them didn’t even hold a certificate of Bachelor’s Degree. Fighting the fires, both literal and figurative, took up a lot of time and energy, leaving virtually none of it for attending the lectures or even distance education. However, the VFD members had connections – Had Connections even, capitalized – owing to which many of them got the opportunity to call themselves professors or academicians, although all their scientific contributions, sometimes absolutely groundbreaking, remained hidden from the general public.

At the Biology Faculty, VFD Had some Connections as well, and if Monty wished so, he probably could obtain the Master’s or even Doctor’s Degree without much effort, but he had no such wish. He desired recognition and respect from the people outside the organization, desired to make discoveries that he could tell the whole world about – desired for everything to be fair. That was why he had spent the whole previous week in a kind of a time loop. Every day looked like the day before: writing, writing, writing, leafing through the sources frenziedly after another bookmark gets lost, sorting the materials collected in the expedition, drinking gallons of coffee, and occasionally sleeping. And feeding Maturin, of course. As to Monty himself, it was Bertrand who had been feeding him, which was very kind of him, because Monty couldn’t even afford the time to heat some ready-to-cook foods. Bertrand simply used to come into his room, not even knocking anymore so that not to distract him, put a plate of vegetable couscous or spaghetti bolognese or something in front of him, and leave before Monty noticed that plate. The dirty dishes he used to take away in the same manner, unnoticed. Monty had to yell “Thank you!” for the whole house to hear, to which Bertrand yelled back “You owe me!” from his room or from the kitchen. He was joking, and Monty knew that, but still planned at least to stand treat at the pub after the exams were over.

That morning, Bertrand knocked on the door again – first came in, then knocked. That meant he needed Monty to pay attention to him.

“Hello, hello, hello!” Monty exclaimed, turning on the chair, immediately knocked one his books off the table, and bent to pick it up. “I am listening to you attentively, o dearest neighbour.”

“You’re going to the uni tomorrow, aren’t you?” Bertrand asked.

Monty nodded. “Yeah, to submit this Frankenstein’s monster. Only the bibliography left to do.”

“You’re a hero,” Bertrand praised him. Monty thought so too, in all honesty. “Could you do something for me while you’re at it?”

“Buddy, I would’ve wasted away without you here over the last few days. What exactly do you need?”

“I need,” Bertrand felt for something in the pocket of his trousers, took out some scrap of paper, and gave it to Monty, “a vial of venom of this snake.”

Monty’s heart lurched. He skimmed the note.

“Oh,” he said. “No problem. There are a couple of excellent specimens of this species at the City Herpetological Centre.”

“I know,” Bertrand replied. “I thought of asking N or S, but I don’t know them well. I wouldn’t like to shoot my mouth off in front of the people I do not trust completely,” he sat down on the edge of Monty’s bed. “Not these days.”

Monty noticed that Bertrand was trying not to meet his eyes.

“I see. Tomorrow it’ll be done.”

“Thank you,” Bertrand smiled slightly, still not looking at Monty. Instead, he was looking at Maturin, the turtle, which was chewing on a salad leaf in its terrarium. The turtle was undoubtedly remarkable, but it wasn’t hard to see that Bertrand was rather looking through it than at it. Sooner or later that was bound to happen, Monty thought. Sooner or later, each volunteer had to do something… like that. Not necessarily related to deathly poisons and what very logically results from their use, but still something that made it difficult to look one’s friends in the eye. Like it was now difficult for Bertrand.

“Who?” Monty asked in a hushed voice. “I’m not asking about the name, I’m asking if you know that person. Or were you just given a description?”

“A description,” Bertrand echoed. He smiled again, wider and brighter, but still somewhat stiffly. “Don’t worry about me. I am not a child, I’ll handle this.”

***

“And so he did,” Monty thought as he was unlocking the door to his flat.

Bertrand was already home; there was no need to call their acquaintances or go to Kit’s place. When Monty entered, his flatmate was sitting at the kitchen table and rubbing his knuckles on one hand with the thumb of the other. His face was calm, without any trace of either tears or smile. It reminded Monty of the kind of “Closed” sign that people put on the shop doors on Sundays.

“There you are,” Monty said, peeking into the kitchen. Bertrand gave a start and looked at him.

“Hi,” he said, and offered Monty a faint smile. It didn’t look too convincing. “How did the report thing go?”

“They let me submit it later,” Monty told him. He didn’t know how to ask Bertrand about what was really vexing him, so he asked another question that was, in his opinion, appropriate in any situation. “Would you like some tea?”

“That would be nice, thank you.”

Monty went into the kitchen, took the teapot off the stove, shook it and made sure it was empty, filled it with water, ignited the burner, put the teapot on the stove. Having been in a hurry to check if Bertrand was home, he didn’t have time to take his shoes off, and was now stamping around the kitchen in outdoor shoes. “Gotta sweep the floor later,” he noted to himself. It came with experience – the skill of not forgetting about the dull everyday things like cleaning and cooking while your entire world was in a whirl and threatening to fall apart.

“I saw the article in the newspaper,” he began as he took teacups from the dish drainer. Bertrand was still sitting at the table in silence, still rubbing his hands absentmindedly. “About the opera.”

“Yeah, I’ve already read it, too.”

“You lied when you told me you didn’t know who the target was, didn’t you? When you asked me to get you the venom.”

“I did,” Bertrand agreed. He leaned back in his chair. It wasn’t hard to see by his eyes that he hadn’t caught even a minute of sleep last night. “Do we have any lemons for tea?”

“Um?.. I think there must be some. Check the fridge. Why did you lie?”

“You had enough problems of your own. And you still do. I didn’t want you to worry about me as well,” Bertrand got up from the table, walked up to the fridge, and took out a bowl containing half a lemon. Having taken a knife and a board, he started cutting the lemon into very neat identical pieces. Everything Bertrand did was neat.

“Yeah, you can want whatever you like,” Monty muttered. The teapot was still taking its time to boil, and just standing empty-handed and discussing the murder committed by his neighbour was unbearable, so he took a cloth and started cleaning the sink aggressively. That was not the first time he procured poisons required by other volunteers. Perhaps he hadn’t killed anyone himself – yet – but he suspected that in a sense he already was partially responsible for a number of deaths. It was scary, it was weighing down on him, it kept him up at night and made him drink and dance and party with a vengeance in the hope of forgetting himself – but that was him, and when it came to Bertrand, it was a hundred times more of a shame. Bertrand was a good person. Bertrand didn’t deserve to be turned into a murderer. Monty was hoping he could express that all in such a way as not to make it seem like his heart is aching not so much for his friend as for his own hurt feelings, but the right words just wouldn’t come.

“You are one of the best people I know,” he finally began. Bertrand made a strange sound, something between a laugh and a sob. Monty turned and saw that he had already cut the leftover lemon and was now standing with an absent look on his face, clutching the knife. “Don’t hold the knife with the edge toward you. Fucking hell, B,” he raised his voice when Bertrand didn’t react. “Don’t hold the knife with the edge toward you, and put it down anyway!”

The knife fell on the table with a thud. Bertrand closed his eyes, leaned on the tabletop with both hands, and lowered his head so that Monty couldn’t get a good look at his countenance.

“I keep remembering that he hit O several times when boozed up, back when O was a boy,” he spoke quietly. “He used to drink, you know – not every day, but he used to go on drinking sprees from time to time. O’s taking after him in that respect. I keep thinking back on it as if it makes an excuse for me, but it really doesn’t, you see? And she was innocent – I mean, the rational part of me gets that she wasn’t, I know who she and her husband used to finance and what they used to cover up, but all I can remember is that she was usually nice to O, and to B after she moved to the City too.” Now his voice was taut, his face burning with indignation, his former numbness gone without a trace. “How come this task was assigned to B, of all people? After they had basically accepted her as family?”

Monty knew, personally and by repute, several Bs among their associates, but this time Bertrand didn’t have to specify who he was talking about.

“I am angry they made you do this, you are angry they made her…”

“Because she didn’t deserve this,” Bertrand interrupted him. “Because she’s a good person.”

Monty realized that Bertrand was basically repeating word for word what he had been reflecting on earlier himself, and smiled sadly.

“How willing we are to assure the others vehemently that they are good people,” he spoke. He was completely in agreement with Bertrand about Beatrice. She was not just fun, but also reliable, which was much more important. She looked after her own. She was vivid and loud and incredibly brave and incredibly loving, and Bertrand was right: she did not deserve this. “And never as willing to defend ourselves the same way. Perhaps that is where our hope lies? In our inability to turn a blind eye to our own faults?”

Bertrand took off his glasses, inelegantly wiped off the tears that had broken out after all, and put the glasses on again.

“Monty,” he said gently, “you’re a good person too, you know that?”

Monty blinked, then blinked again, feeling that soon he might have to wipe off the tears too. Bertrand was one of the best people Monty knew, and he didn’t deserve to be turned into a murderer, and didn’t deserve to labour under such grave delusion about other people either – but the fact that someone still considered him a good person gave Monty confidence that despite all his wrongdoings, he still wasn’t a lost cause.

He reached out and ruffled Bertrand’s hair.

“Sit down,” he told him. “The tea’s about to be ready.”

#asoue #a series of unfortunate events #uncle monty #montgomery montgomery #bertrand baudelaire #snicketverse #not completely satisfied w/ this one but i like some bits so let it be here #yes the name of the turtle is a reference to stephen king's it #iirc they reference danny the champion of the world as early as atwq and it was published in the 70s #and time is a construct anyway (especially in the snicketverse) so i couldn't resist #talk talk talk #gella talks snicketverse #my fic

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