#from none other than marianne ofc

[foundtherightwords]

The Road Forgotten - Chapter 11

Pairing: Arthur Havisham (Dickensian) x OFC

A/N: I made Arthur bisexual and paired him with a female character in this. I know some writers have gotten flack for pairing Arthur with a female character (or reader), so if it's not your cup of tea, please walk away.

This is mostly based on the events of "Dickensian", but I've also incorporated some elements and characters from "Great Expectations". Most notably, Satis House is in Kent (as in the book) instead of in London.

Summary: A few years after his plan to swindle his sister ended in tragedy, Arthur Havisham is a shadow of a man, living in guilt and fear. When Elsie Bradford, a young woman also wronged by Compeyson, enlists Arthur's help to hunt down his former partner-in-crime, Arthur must face his demons and other strange, new feelings, to redeem himself.

Warnings: slow burn, angst, guilt, revenge, psychological trauma, mention of prostitution, mention of suicide/suicide ideations, some violence, a bit of smut

Chapter word count: 2.6k

Chapter 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10

Chapter 11

The next morning, they took a stagecoach to Arthur's hometown in Kent. There was no sign of Cyclops and the Chimney on the streets, and Elsie hoped against all hope that they had been arrested the night they attacked Arthur. They would not stay in jail for long—Mrs. Hill would see to that—but they would be off her back for a while.

Elsie held Arthur's hand the whole way. She could tell he was nervous, even more nervous than she had been the day she took him to see Marianne. Now she understood his horrified reaction to Marianne's condition. He had seen the same thing with his own sister, Amelia. From what Arthur told her, Elsie understood that Amelia wasn't in as bad a state as Marianne—she had suffered greatly and had become reclusive, but she hadn't lost her mind. However, Arthur couldn't say what the exact nature of Amelia's condition was, not having seen her since Compeyson left her at the altar five years ago, and Elsie didn't want to press him. He was already crushed by the guilt of having introduced Compeyson to his sister.

"It wasn't your fault," she kept telling him. "You couldn't have known what kind of man he is." He said nothing to that.

What he did say was that he believed Compeyson might have some genuine feelings for Amelia. "More than once he spoke highly of her to me, when he had no reason to do so," he said. "She was—is—very strong-willed, my sister, and he might have admired that. So perhaps he told her something in confidence, something that will give us a clue as to where he is."

They arrived in a market town set amongst the coastal marshes of Kent, only twenty miles from the sea, as Arthur told her. Elsie fancied she could almost smell the salt air even from here. She had never seen the sea.

It took them about a quarter of an hour to walk from the High Street to Arthur's childhood home, Satis House. "The name means enough," Arthur said with a hollow laugh. "What a cruel joke. None of it was enough. Not for me. I didn't even know what enough was. And I'm punished for it." In the past few weeks, he had started to carry himself with more confidence, to walk straighter, and his eyes no longer darted around wildly. Now, as they drew closer and closer to the house, he seemed to revert to his old self, his shoulders hunched, his feet dragging, his eyes fixating on something only he could see. What horrors did this place hold for him? How much did it cost him to bring her back here?

As the house came into view, Elsie's heart sank. It was a large mansion of old brick, with such a dismal prospect that she felt weighed down with an incredible melancholy just to look at it. Rusty iron bars surrounded both house and courtyard. Two great chains draped across the front entrance, some windows had been walled up, and those that remained were barred as well. The whole place looked abandoned and condemned. She couldn't imagine anyone living there.

"This is where you grew up?" she asked.

Arthur nodded, his brow darkening. "She only had it boarded up after Compeyson—but it has never been a happy home, even before that."

Her heart brimming with sympathy, Elsie reached for his hand and pulled him to her, but he didn't melt into her arms as he usually did. He stood stiffly at the gate, looking up at the house with a mix of fear and loathing.

Elsie rang the bell. A window was raised, and a small voice came out, "Who is it?"

"My name is Elsie Bradford," Elsie said. "I wish to see Miss Havisham about a man named Compeyson." Arthur had asked her to make no mention of his name.

"A moment, please." The window was shut again, and stayed shut for a long time, certainly much longer than just a moment. At last, a young, terrified-looking girl, no older than thirteen or fourteen, dressed as a maid, came across the courtyard with keys in her hand. She paused upon seeing Arthur with Elsie, confusion and suspicion chasing each other across her plain features.

Arthur shook his head at the girl. "Miss Bradford will see Miss Havisham alone," he said.

"You're not going in?" Elsie asked.

A sad smile flickered on his face. "She won't see me. And she won't see you if she knows you're with me. I'll wait for you at the inn."

As Elsie slipped through the gate, Arthur held on to her hand. "Elsie?" He had never called out to her so tenderly. She turned back. He looked at her, his brown eyes huge and imploring, sending that familiar stab of ache through her heart, while his hand squeezed hers with such a force she'd never felt from him. "I love you," he said quietly.

Those words knocked the breath out of her. She couldn't think of what to say, and the maid was urging her inside, saying, "My mistress is waiting, miss." Arthur dropped her hand. When she looked back, he was gone, hurrying back the way they came as if all the ghosts of this place were chasing after him.

***

The maid led Elsie through a side door and into a dark hallway, lit by a single candle that only seemed to exacerbate the darkness rather than relieve it. After being outside under the brilliant midday sun, Elsie felt like she was going blind. Once her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she glimpsed, through a door left ajar in the hallway, a large dining room containing a long table, spread with plates and bowls as if for a feast, but everything was so rotten and hung with cobwebs that it was impossible to distinguish one dish from another. A grandfather clock stood against the wall, its hands stopped at twenty minutes to nine.

The maid held the candle to guide the way up a dark staircase and down another dark passage, before stopping in front of a door, which she knocked lightly. "Come," a voice said from the inside, sounding as rusty and cobwebby as the house itself. The maid nodded to Elsie and beat a quick retreat, taking the candle with her. Elsie opened the door with a palpitating heart, wondering what she would find behind it. Would it be another madwoman, driven out of her mind by the evils of Compeyson?

She found herself in what appeared to be a dressing room. It wasn't a small room, but the tightly shut windows, the heavy furniture, and the half-packed trunks full of dresses scattered about made it look oppressive. There were a few more candles here, though they did little to lift the stale airlessness of the place. Most of them were placed on a dressing table around a gilded mirror, their flickering flames reflected in its dusty surface and shining down on the other items heaped haphazardly on the table—jewels, some trinkets, gloves, a handkerchief, a prayer book, a bouquet, all dead and brittle, and, most baffling of all, a single shoe, its white satin yellowed with age. It was because of the glare of the candles and the confusion of these items that Elsie didn't notice right away the person sitting at the table, and probably wouldn't have for a long time, had the person not moved. She only saw a pile of white satin and lace and silk in an armchair in front of the mirror, and almost jumped out of her skin when a hand emerged from it to lift up a long white veil, and the face behind the veil turned to look at her.

The woman couldn't be much older than Arthur—in her early thirties at the most, and her face was unlined still, but her hair, studded with flowers, was white, and her skin was white, almost as white as her splendid gown—a wedding gown, Elsie realized with a sinking heart—so she looked almost like an old woman. Her figure, too, was shrunken, and she moved with the jerkiness of an automaton, her joints and muscles had seemingly forgotten how to work from lack of use. Only her dark eyes retained some sign of life as they stared at Elsie, unblinking.

Since the woman showed no inclination of speaking up, Elsie had to speak first, but she found her voice had stuck in her dry throat, as if this house had infected her with its curse. Finally, she managed, "Miss Havisham, my name is—"

"The maid told me," the woman interrupted. "I don't often permit strangers to see me, but since you mentioned—" Her face twisted like one being forced to take a bitter pill, and her voice caught. It was a while before she continued. "So you have fallen victim to him as well, haven't you? Tell me, is your heart broken?" she said, peering eagerly at Elsie.

It was such a strange question to start that at first, Elsie didn't quite know how to answer, but then she remembered that Arthur had asked her the same thing in the Three Cripples, the day they first met. What could she say? Her heart was broken, but not in the way Miss Havisham meant. Her heart was broken because Arthur had just said he loved her, but she couldn't say it back to him. It was broken because she wanted to love him but couldn't, not when the black abyss that was Compeyson still threatened to swallow them up. She couldn't say any of that, so she opted for a simple, "No."

"It is a pity," Miss Havisham said. "Have you loved?"

Elsie decided to tell the truth this time. "...Yes."

"I don't think so," the old-yet-not-old woman scoffed. "If you have loved, then your heart is broken. Because that's what love does to you. Because to truly love, you have to give up your heart, give it up blindly, devotedly, give it up despite the whole world telling you otherwise, give it up until there was nothing left—as I did!"

Elsie thought of Arthur, of the way they held on to each other, making each other feel safe and wanted and comforted, asking for nothing in return, and she felt sorry for Miss Havisham, who would probably never understand it.

"You're wrong," she said. The words came out sharper than she'd planned. "If a person just gives and the other takes, then that's not love, that's a robbery."

Amelia Havisham laughed, a dry, brittle sound, like the dead bridal bouquet on her table. "Well, I can't deny that. I was certainly robbed." She looked at Elsie. "If your heart is not broken, then why do you wish to speak to me about him?"

Elsie had been preparing a speech in her mind, hoping to appeal to Miss Havisham's sense of compassion and sisterhood, but now, faced with this specter of misery and malevolence, she wasn't sure if the woman had any compassion left. So she spoke plainly. "Compeyson murdered my father and drove my sister mad," she said. "I wish to seek revenge."

"Revenge?" Amelia repeated. "Yes, I want revenge as well. But why stop at seeking revenge on him alone? Why not seek revenge on the whole world, on those despicable men and the pitiful women who allow themselves to fall in love with them?"

Elsie felt exasperation building up inside her. A penchant for wallowing in their own misery and talking in rhetoric seemed to be a Havisham specialty. She had managed to get through to Arthur by being direct, so she would have to do the same with Amelia.

"Miss Havisham," she said firmly, taking a step closer. "I'm sorry for what Compeyson did to you, but I'm not here to discuss it. I'm looking for him. If you know anything about where he might be, please tell me."

Amelia turned away. "I know nothing."

There was no chair for Elsie to sit on, so she knelt in front of Amelia to look into her eyes. "Miss Havisham, please. Your brother told me—"

"Brother?" Those dark eyes, looking disconcertingly like Arthur's, at least in their shape and color, were vacant. "I don't have a brother." 

Elsie was momentarily confused, but she told herself this must be why Arthur felt so guilty, why he hadn't been back here in five years. His sister couldn't forgive him, so in turn, he couldn't forgive himself. "I've been to see Mr. Jaggers and Compeyson's wife, to no avail," she said. "Did Compeyson ever tell you anything about his home or mention any place he often stayed at?"

Amelia recoiled slightly at the mention of Sally. "I remember his wife," she murmured, lost in memories. "I met her once. She told me she was his sister." She lifted her eyes to Elsie's face. "Do you see? She lied for him. She is one of those pitiful women too. Like me."

It dawned on Elsie then, that this was another lost cause. Amelia Havisham had nothing for her, except to serve as a grim warning of what could happen if she let grief and hatred take over. She might not have locked herself away in a rotting old house with a frozen clock, but didn't she put her life on hold as well? Didn't she allow Compeyson to continue tarnishing everything in her life, long after he had gone out of it? Didn't she deny herself a chance to love and to hope?

She thought of Arthur, with his sad eyes and sweet smile, his soft lips and strong hands, and it was like the sun had suddenly come out. A glow of love and affection surged up within her, spreading from her heart throughout her body, sending warmth to even the tips of her finger. She loved him. She could admit that now. She loved him, for all his faults and his weaknesses, because he saw her and knew her and stayed by her. She remembered his suggestion that they built their own castle, and realized she wanted nothing more than to build it with him. The past was the past. She was done with it. She would not let Compeyson pull them into the abyss like all the others.

Filled with a new sense of determination, Elsie got to her feet.

"Well, thank you for your time, Miss Havisham," she said, backing out of the room. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you." She turned on her heel, eager to be away from this house and back into daylight, back to where people still lived and loved, instead of existing in a self-imposed limbo. She could already imagine how Arthur's face would light up when she told him...

"You mentioned my brother," Amelia said, causing her to turn around. "So you know him?"

"Yes." And I love him, Elsie thought, and I'm going to tell him so, and we'll go away together and put this whole miserable business behind us. "He has been helping me."

"Has he now?" There was a dark fire burning in Amelia Havisham's eyes. "I would be careful if I were you, Miss Bradford."

"Why?" Elsie didn't like the way Amelia was looking at her, full of a keen hunger for something she couldn't quite understand.

"Did he tell you he helped Compeyson as well?"

Elsie froze.

"That's right," Miss Havisham said, obviously taking a malignant enjoyment in the shock on Elsie's face. "My brother conspired with Compeyson to swindle me. My brother broke my heart. They both did." Miss Havisham gathered her shroud of a dress about her, and Elsie realized, with a rising sense of horror, that the phantom in Arthur's nightmares was none other than his own sister.

Chapter 12

[keanureevesisbae]

Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat - Chapter 9

Summary: Veterinarian Olivia Tran has zero time for bullshit. After becoming a mom at age twenty three, the one thing she wants is a good life for her daughter Vanessa. Her ex didn’t want anything to do with her nor the baby and she decided that man are officially banned out of her life. But then she meets Henry Cavill at her clinic and her ban slowly starts to crumble apart. Henry on the other hand is looking for one thing: a family. And when he meets Olivia Tran, he finds just that.

Henry Cavill x Olivia Tran (ofc)

Warnings: None (just that I nearly cried writing this, so yeah...)

Wordcount: 4.6k

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter 

It’s Sunday, November 12th and that means exactly seven years have passed since Vanessa was born. Seven whole years have flown by and I can’t believe my little girl is already seven. I crouch down in front of the picture that stands on the coffee table and I see every single day, but today it has such a different meaning and it nearly makes me want to cry.

Vanessa just turned one on this picture and we are eating the icing of the cake. She only fell face first into the cake and her face is smudged with icing and I’m dying of laughter in the picture.

‘So, all the presents are on the table,’ Henry says. ‘Do you want me to start on the pancakes?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ I say, though I barely registered what he said and with the picture in my hand, I stand up as I stare at the picture.

Henry’s arms snake around my waist and he gives me a kiss on my temple. ‘Are you okay?’

I shrug. ‘It’s just hard to believe that she turns seven already,’ I admit. ‘It seemed like yesterday that I found out I was pregnant with her, that she was born and scared the living shit out of me multiple times, making me completely doubt my parental skills. She shoved a bead up her nose, she fell out of her high chair and had a small concussion and even broke her leg when she fell down the stairs. Besides those accidents, she somehow still grew up to be the girl she is today.’

Henry chuckles. ‘That’s what little girls do, love. They grow up.’

I nod. ‘I know, I know and I want her to grow up, but… I feel like I’m not enjoying each moment enough and I blink with my eyes and she’ll turn sixteen.’

‘I know you are enjoying each moment enough.’

Since Vanessa came home from that sleepover, she really likes it when Henry sleeps over, so we can all cram up in my bed. Kal’s blanket has moved from the couch with us to my bedroom, so he can be there with us too. Sometimes Vanessa secretly ushers him on the bed, when she thinks Henry and I are already asleep. When we wake up the next morning, Henry tells me that we should buy a bigger bed.

Every single time.

‘Shall I start with the pancakes, love?’ Henry asks.

‘Yes, thank you.’

He nods, burying his face in the crook of my neck and pressing tons of kisses there. ‘I love you and I’m happy that we can spend this day together.’

‘Of course,’ I say, as we walk to the kitchen. ‘Why wouldn’t we want to spend it with you, honey?’

‘Well, for six years it has just been the two of you,’ he says, as he grabs the bowl filled with the batter that he already preparedy. He stirs a few times, before he adds: ‘And now I can be part of that too. I mean, we’re going to my parents in the afternoon to celebrate her birthday. It’s still surreal that you want me here, to be honest.’

I can’t help but chuckle and wrap my arms around his hips. ‘Henry, you are part of our little family now,’ I whisper. ‘Get yourself ready, because we are going to spend Christmas together, New Years Eve and all the other good stuff.’

He bites his lip and says: ‘Thank you, Olivia.’

I let him bake the pancakes, but I can’t help but be curious. ‘You really want us to meet your brothers today?’

He nods. ‘I talked to them, all four of them individually and the other day when we were at my parents and told them how they should behave. They can embarrass me, but they have to be nice to the two of you. I don’t want them to scare you away.’ He puts some butter in the pan and as that melts, he continues by saying: ‘They all bought a gift off of the list that Vanessa gave you, so that must go well.’

‘Are you nervous, Henry?’ I ask him. ‘For us meeting your brothers?’

‘Is it that obvious?’ he laughs and I can’t help but let out a chuckle. ‘I’m sorry, it’s just that I brought home girlfriends before, you know and they were always really nice to them, but they embarrassed the living daylights out of me, probably scaring the girlfriends a bit in the process. But I don’t want that to happen today.’

‘I think your parents will be on the look out too,’ I chuckle. The other day we were at his parents’ again and Marianne kept gushing about how she has never seen Henry like he is with us and that she is so happy that we are in their lives now. ‘Marianne and Colin very much like Vanessa and according to Colin, he likes my daughter more than he likes his own sons, so there is not much to worry about, sweetheart. However,’ I say, ‘I do think it’s adorable that you worry this much about us meeting your brothers. It shows us that you really care.’

Henry blushes and lets out a bit of a nervous chuckle. He continues to bake pancakes and when he finished up the last one, I hear tiny footsteps on the stairs, followed by the sound of dog nails hitting the carpet.

‘I’m seven years old, mommy,’ Vanessa yells, as she jumps in my arms.

‘I know, sweetheart. Happy birthday.’ I give her a big kiss and from the looks of it, she is really happy and hyper. ‘You feel like a big girl now?’

‘I do, I do, I do.’ She hugs me tightly and I let out a content sigh, as I press my nose in her hairs. ‘I love you, mommy,’ she says.

‘I love you too,’ I say with a smile. ‘Mommy is really proud of you, you know that?’

She smiles and gives me another kiss. ‘I know,’ she cheekily says and I put her down on the floor. ‘Superman, I’m seven now.’

‘I know, sunshine. You’re getting old.’

‘Not as old as you,’ she retorts and I’m so happy that I am raising a sassy little girl. She jumps in his arms and he kisses her cheek, before he says: ‘Happy birthday, Vanessa.’

‘You are making pancakes?’ she asks, wrapping her arms around his neck.

‘Not just pancakes. I made birthday pancakes, especially for you.’

Vanessa’s eyes grow wider. ‘Really?’

‘Of course,’ he says, nearly scoffing with a chuckle. ‘You only turn seven once and we have to celebrate that with special birthday pancakes. I put some chocolate in it, because I know how much you like that.’

Vanessa looks over her shoulder at me and says: ‘I love this birthday already.’

I lean against the doorway and blink my eyes a little faster. I don’t want to be emotional, but these past weeks have been such a rollercoaster and my feelings are trying to find a new normal again, but it’s not that easy. Especially if you are a professional in bottling up emotions like I am.

We eat our pancakes and I sit across from Vanessa, who sits on Henry’s lap, as he helps her rolling her pancakes. I take dozens of pictures, wanting to have physical evidence of this wonderful moment between them. They are surely getting attached to each other and I continued to think about what would happen if I broke up with Henry.

Would Vanessa still see him?

I forced myself to stop thinking about that, because it only made me sad. I mean, I already can’t imagine a life without Henry.

‘When can I open my presents?’ she asks.

‘When you finished your pancakes,’ I say. ‘After that, we’re going to get dressed go to Henry’s parents.’

‘We’re going to mrs. Marianne and mister Colin again?’ Vanessa claps her hands. ‘Are they going to give me gifts too?’

‘They are, sunshine,’ Henry says. ‘And there are going to be four other guests.’

‘Who?’ she asks, her eyes lighting up already.

‘My brothers.’

She smiles. ‘I like that. Are they going to give me presents?’

I try to hide a laugh, but I fail miserably. The most important things to Vanessa sure are quite something and totally relatable if I’m being honest. ‘They are, sweetheart,’ I say.

‘But, sunshine, I have to tell you something,’ Henry says. ‘If they do something you don’t like, you tell me, my parents or your mommy, okay? This is your birthday and I want you to be happy the entire time, okay?’

‘I can tell them myself,’ Vanessa says.

Henry smiles at her. ‘I know you can,’ he says. ‘But will you promise me that?’

She nods. ‘I promise, Superman.’ She presses her nose against his cheek and says: ‘You really are Superman.’

Henry films as Vanessa opens up all her presents and she is the happiest with the bike Henry and I bought her. It has bears on it and a flag on the back, also with a bear. She sits on it and says: ‘Now I really am a big girl.’

After unpacking the gifts, Vanessa and I go to the bathroom, where we get in the shower cabin and I help her with washing her hairs and getting all freshened up for the day. She keeps on babbling about how happy she is and excited that she is going to see mrs. Marianne and mister Colin again. I wrap her up in a towel after I done that for myself and since I can still carry her, I lift her up in my arms as we walk to the bedroom. ‘You go warm up in my bed, as I get dressed,’ I tell her, handing her my phone so she can play a game on it.

I decide to wear a black casual dress today, since I know that Vanessa always loves it when I wear dresses on her birthday. I slip on the Doctor Martens, tie them up and walk over to the big mirror that I have on the closet. I grab some hair products and comb my fingers through my hair.

Henry enters the bedroom and smiles when he looks at me. ‘Birthday girl,’ he says to Vanessa. ‘Did you tell your mom to wear this dress?’ He runs a hand through his slight out of control curls.

Vanessa nods. ‘Mommy has to wear dresses on my birthday, because I like that.’

He gives her a thumbs up, causing me to roll my eyes. ‘Did you pick this one out?’

She nods again. ‘And when I grow up, I want to wear that dress.’

‘You have excellent taste, sunshine.’ He walks over to me, gives me a kiss and says that he is going to take a shower now.

‘Henry, you have to wear something colorful,’ Vanessa says, before he can walk out of the room.

Henry leans against the wall and asks: ‘Like what?’

‘A pink shirt.’

He cocks an eyebrow. ‘I have to check my wardrobe to see if I have a pink shirt. How about before we go to my parents, we stop by at my house?’

‘Can I pick something out?’ she says, her face lighting up already. ‘Pretty please?’

I already know that he us unable to say no to Vanessa. ‘Of course you can.’ He chuckles and looks at me again. ‘You look really beautiful, love,’ he says to me.

‘Thank you.’ I don’t want to blush, but I feel my face heat up.

Henry sends me a wink, before he walks out of the room. After I’m done with my make-up and hair, I turn around and ask Vanessa: ‘You want to wear that pink dress with the bears on it, sweetheart?’

≫≫≪≪

‘Mommy, why is Henry nervous?’ Vanessa asks. We just stopped by Henry’s place, hoping to find something pink, but we came to the conclusion that he doesn’t have anything pink. After going through his closet at least three times, she found a baby blue sweater instead and it looks beautiful on him. It hugs his tight arms and I have my hand wrapped around the bulk of muscles.

We are on our way to his parents house, but he keeps drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and he hums. Now, he usually hums when we’re not really talking in the car, usually in a light tone, causing Vanessa to recognize the song, but today it’s in a nervous tone.

‘Because he is scared that his brothers will embarrass him.’

‘Why?’ Vanessa asks.

I turn around in my seat and say: ‘Because siblings tend to embarrass each other and Henry knows that when we are there to meet them, they will say and do stuff, hoping to get a sort of a reaction out of him.’

‘Isn’t that bullying?’

I shake my head. ‘No, because they are siblings, it’s more like teasing. Like when you want a cookie and I hold the jar over your head…. It’s not necessarily bullying, but I’m teasing you a bit, right?’

She nods. ‘But if Henry doesn’t like it, he should say it to his mother.’

Vanessa is adorable.

‘And otherwise he should tell me. I can tell his brothers they shouldn’t be mean to him. I mean, Henry told me that I should tell him if they do something I don’t like, right?’

‘Very good, sunshine,’ he says with an adoring smile as he looks in his rearview mirror.

We get out of the car, Vanessa holding her Kal’s leash in her hand as she frisks towards the already open front door. ‘Mrs. Marianne!’ she yells, Kal following her close by. For a second I’m afraid Vanessa is going to jump in her arms, but she doesn’t—thankfully—and wraps her arms around her waist. ‘It’s my birthday today.’

‘I know, doll,’ Marianne says. ‘And happy birthday to you. I bought a nice birthday cake for you.’

‘For me?’ Vanessa looks over her shoulder and holds my hand. ‘Mommy, mrs. Marianne bought a birthday cake for me.’

‘No way,’ I say, ‘that is so thoughtful of her.’

Marianne pulls me in a hug. ‘She looks so beautiful,’ she whispers, ‘as do you.’

‘Thank you.’

After she hugged her son too, we all walk into the house and the fact that Vanessa completely ignores the four insanely tall Cavill men, to go and hug mr. Colin, says something about their bond. ‘I missed you,’ she says.

‘I missed the birthday girl too,’ he laughs and from the looks of it, he begins to tell her the newest jokes he looked up, because she bursts into a fit of giggles after a few seconds already.

‘Olivia, these are my brothers,’ Henry says, placing a hand on the small of my back. I don’t know if he does that because he feels like he needs to support me or the other way around. ‘Simon, Charlie, Niki and Piers.’

I am amazed by the Cavill genetics. ‘Wow,’ is the first thing that leaves my lips and I nearly want to throw myself out of a window. ‘I’m sorry, that was creepy.’

All of his brothers start to laugh and I shake their hands to introduce myself, with my cheeks in a full on blush. ‘Nice to meet you, guys.’

‘No, no, no, it’s nice to meet you, Olivia,’ Piers says.

Niki nods. ‘We couldn’t wait to meet the woman that has our Henry all blushy and giggly.’

‘And just wondering, but why him?’ Charlie says. ‘I mean, sure, he is handsome, but have you seen the rest of us?’

Simon holds back a laugh and says: ‘Guys, look at that clenched fist. This man is about to throw in some punches.’

I look up and see not only his fist is clenched, but also his jaw. He is really working himself up and I nearly feel sorry for him. To cut Henry some slack, I say to Vanessa: ‘Sweetheart, come over and meet Henry’s brothers.’

She walks over and stands in front of me and I watch as all of his brothers crouch down, so they don’t seem that intimidating to my daughter.

I already love them.

Vanessa looks up, ignoring them a bit and asks: ‘Have they been mean to Henry already?’

‘No, sunshine, they haven’t,’ Henry says with a smile on his face.

‘So, I can be nice to them?’

I can see the looks on his brothers faces, already melting at the sight of my daughter being quite protective over my boyfriend. ‘Yes, sweetheart, you can be nice to them.’

Vanessa looks at Piers and holds out her hand. ‘My name is Vanessa Tran,’ she says.

‘Nice to meet you, Vanessa and happy birthday.’

She smiles. ‘I’m seven now.’

‘So I heard.’

All of Henry’s brothers seem to be impressed with Vanessa and when she reaches Charlie, he jokingly asks: ‘What does your mom see in Henry anyways? Do you know?’

Vanessa rolls her eyes like the sassy little thing she is. ‘Because he is Superman, of course.’

‘Yeah, I can’t compete with that,’ Charlie admits.

‘You want to see the gifts we bought you?’ Simon suggests and she nods. She holds onto Charlie’s hand and I watch them go to the living room.

‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ I ask Henry.

‘No, it wasn’t.’ He lets out a big sigh and says: ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

He smiles and holds my hand, as we go to the living room as well. Vanessa is sitting on Marianne’s lap, as she unwraps the other gifts. She is happy every single time, no matter what she gets. She asks whose gift it is, so she can hug the specific person as a thank you.

It doesn’t take a genius to see that Vanessa has wrapped the entire Cavill household around her finger.

While I watch them all interact with my daughter, I can’t help but notice the light in Vanessa’s eyes. I know she accepted that she didn’t have a large family and she told me that she was happy that she had me, but I knew that deep down she wanted to have a dad, grandparents and aunts or uncles. I mean, sure, she has Belle and she loves Belle with all her heart, but this is different.

This is one whole family that fell in love with her and she knows it.

‘Mommy, look, a coloring book filled with bears,’ she chuckles, as she walks over to me.

I pull her on my lap and wrap my arm around her waist. ‘So pretty,’ I say to her. ‘Did you say thank you?’

She nods. ‘I’m really happy.’

‘I know you are.’

‘Is this our new family?’ she asks, loud enough for the others to hear her. ‘Because I like them a lot.’

Don’t you dare start crying now, Olivia Tran. I look over at Henry, who sits next to me on a chair. He slides his arm from the back of the chair on my shoulders, giving me a little bit of comfort. ‘You should ask them.’

She looks at the Cavill family and asks: ‘Are you my new family?’

They unanimously start to nod. ‘We are, doll,’ Marianne says, her voice cracking a bit.

Vanessa turns around in my lap, so she can look at Henry as well. She ushers him closer and asks him: ‘Do they mean it?’

‘They do, sunshine.’ He places his hand on her leg and says: ‘We are all very happy that both you and your mom are part of our family now.’

‘I loved all the presents I got,’ she says, ‘but having a family is the best present I could ask for. Who do I say thank you to for that, mommy?’

I’m unable to answer something, as all sorts of things run through my mind. Have I finally given her everything I simply can? Is the life that I wanted for my daughter, finally happening? I simply press a kiss on her cheek and hear Henry say: ‘You should thank your mom for that.’

Vanessa tilts her head. ‘Why?’

‘Because your mom allowed me in your life,’ he says, ‘and because of that you not only got me, but also got the rest of them.’

Vanessa looks at me and says: ‘Thank you, mommy. For finding the best family for me.’

≫≫≪≪

The entire day I hold my tears back, but when I watch the Cavill men, including Kal run around in the backyard, throwing around a ball with Vanessa, I can’t help but let out a shaky breath.

This is all I ever wanted for my little girl. I wanted her to have a big loving family and now on her seventh birthday, she has that.

After she thanked me for finding the best family for her, I could barely look at someone else anymore. Henry knew something was up, but he couldn’t get it out of me.

I sit on the porch with Marianne. ‘I’m just going to say it once again,’ Marianne says. ‘You have raised an extraordinary girl and the both of you made my son a very happy man.’

I chuckle, as I watch Henry picking up Vanessa and as an answer, she pushes her nose against his cheek, before she bursts out in giggles. ‘Well, he makes me very happy too,’ I say.

Marianne places a hand on my knee and says: ‘From one mother to another, it’s always hard when you think you’re not giving your kids what they deserve, but you are doing an excellent job.’

I blink away some tears. ‘It’s just that… I always feel so guilty when I think about Vanessa and how desperately she wants to have a family, and I’m not able to give her that, but… I never knew how much I missed having a family around me, who cares about me like you all do. I think I forgot how it felt to be welcomed like I am here.’

Marianne nods. ‘Always remember: you don’t have to do it alone anymore. You are welcome here in our entire family and we would love to help you out.’

‘Thank you.’

‘They might make fun of Henry,’ she continues, ‘but his brothers know how happy he is with you. Piers just told me that he never seen Henry like this. Charlie said that you are by far the greatest woman he has ever met and both Simon and Niki are impressed by the way you raised your daughter. You two are truly to best that could ever happen to Henry, but also to us.’

I clear my throat and I stare at Henry, who holds Vanessa above his head, so she can throw the ball through the hoop. ‘Excuse me,’ I say, as I stand up and walk inside the house. I don’t know where I end, but somewhere where people can’t see me from outside.

I bury my face in my hands, as I let out a small sob, followed by many more. I shouldn’t be sad, I should be grateful. I am welcomed in a family with both arms wide open. But it all hits extra hard today. My little girl turned seven today. My boyfriend brought me to his family. Vanessa thanked me for finding her a new family.

‘Is everything alright, love?’ I hear Henry ask me.

I look up, wiping my tears away, but I can’t stop crying. Henry walks over to me and pulls me in a tight and safe hug. ‘It’s nothing,’ I whisper.

‘Don’t,’ he says. ‘Don’t do that. You can tell me what’s wrong.’

‘I’m just a bit emotional, that’s all,’ I say.

Henry gives me a kiss on my forehead and says: ‘Come with me for a second.’ He holds onto my hand, as I follow him through the house. We walk into a bedroom that is obviously his old one and I can’t help but smile, seeing the light blue walls and how neatly it’s all cleaned. We plop on his bed and he pulls me on his lap. ‘Tell me what is going on inside your head, sweetheart.’

‘I think it’s a combination,’ I whisper, looking at my hands. ‘First Vanessa turns seven, then not only does she gain a whole family, but I do too. Every year on her birthday, I kind of wish that we get a card from my family, or a text, you know. Now your brothers bought a lot of Vanessa’s birthday wish list, without ever meeting her.’

Henry pulls me closer to his body. ‘You deserve it,’ he says. ‘Both you and Vanessa. My family loves you, Olivia. Niki and Charlie are already trying to persuade me into bringing you two to our Christmas dinner. I actually think they love you two more than they love me.’

I chuckle, as I roll my eyes.

‘And I have to thank you too,’ he says. ‘Vanessa thanked you for finding her a family, but I have to thank you for allowing me in your own little family. You made me the happiest man on earth.’

I look at him again, wrap my arms around his neck and press a kiss on his cheek. ‘God, I love you like crazy,’ I whisper to him.

‘I love you too.’ His fingers play with the hem of my dress, before he slides his hand underneath the thin fabric. ‘You have to go to work tomorrow?’

‘I don’t actually,’ I say with a smile. I raise an eyebrow. ‘Why?’

‘It’s good to know when I can show you how much I love you.’ He buries his face in the crook of my neck and presses a wet kiss on the sensitive skin. ‘Maybe we should head back again,’ he says, even though we both want something else. It was thrilling to have sex under your parents roof when you were sixteen, but it’s not so cute and daring anymore once you’re nearing thirty and you have a kid.

We walk back downstairs and when we are back in the living room again, Vanessa rushes towards us. ‘Mommy, why are your eyes red? Did you cry?’

Great job, sweetheart, if you can repeat that once again, only louder this time, maybe the neighbors can hear it too. All the Cavills look at me and I clear my throat, feeling a bit self conscious now. ‘I was a little, but they were happy tears.’

Vanessa nods. ‘Henry, do you cry happy tears?’

He lifts her up when she is close enough and says: ‘Sometimes.’

‘When was the last time?’

‘A while ago,’ he says. ‘It was when you gave me that drawing,’ he says. ‘I cried a little bit when I was alone at my place again, because I finally knew for sure that you liked me.’

She chuckles. ‘Silly Henry, I don’t just like you. I love you a lot.’

There is an audible gasp in the living room and I know that I was part of that gasp, but from the looks of it, Marianne took part in it as well. Henry is at a loss for words, but his eyes do fill up with tears.

‘Are those happy tears?’ she asks him, tilting her head.

‘They certainly are, sunshine,’ Henry says, as he wraps an arm around my shoulders too. ‘And you know what’s such a coincidence? I love you a lot too.’ He presses his nose against her cheek. She holds his face in her tiny hands and rubs her nose against his, a little eskimo kiss. ‘I’m never letting you or your mom go,’ he says to her.

Vanessa chuckles. ‘Well, I wasn’t going to let you go,’ she tells him. ‘Because you make my mommy happy and when she’s happy, I am too.’

[fanfictionaries]

Where the Green Grass Grows - Part 2. All My Exes Live in Texas

Summary: After leaving town in 2001, Marianne Grace Barnes swore she’d never step foot in Texas again. She was happy with her life in San Francisco. She had great friends, a great job, and a loving boyfriend. But when her mother insists she come home after six long years away, Marianne comes face to face with someone she vowed to never lay eyes on again. Now the questions arise: Is he so different from the man who broke her heart? Is she so different from the girl she used to be?

And most importantly, is she as happy as she really thinks she is?

A story of love, heartache, and that special feeling of being home.

MASTERLIST

Prompt: Sweet Home Alabama (2002) 

Pairing: AU Cowboy!Steve Rogers x OFC

Warnings: NA this chapter I think? ANGST! 

Author’s note: It’s easier if you imagine everyone with a southern accent except for Marianne (Pronounced Mary Anne) who has a slight southern accent but’s lost it’s strength over the years. Also, how sexy is it to imagine Sam, Bucky, and Steve with southern accents?!?!?

My goal is to upload two parts a week for this series! Please bear with me, schools starts back up next week! xoxo

***

“Married?!”

“Mama—”

“You’re getting married?! And I had to find out through the paper like some stranger?”

“Mama, please. I said I was sorry—” Marianne tried to apologize once again but was drowned out by the hysterical cries of her mother through the phone.

“Marianne Grace Barnes, I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but you will wait till I am good and finished talking before you interrupt me,” scolded Winifred Barnes.

“Yes ma’am,” grumbled Marianne, cursing every member of the staff at the San Francisco Chronicle.

***

It seems as though San Francisco’s most eligible bachelor, Tony Stark (32) is officially off the market amidst the announcement of his engagement to a Marianne Barnes (24). Mr. Stark, heir to the Stark fortune and founder of Stark industry met Ms. Barnes, middle school art teacher, a short ten months ago at an art show for the now celebrated artist Aldrich Killian. Sources say the pair hit it off almost immediately, and this can be confirmed by the fact that Barnes was rumored to be living with Stark in his sprawling San Francisco townhouse a mere two months after meeting. Since then, the two have been inseparable. Barnes and Stark have been spotted together at multiple Stark Industry events and frequenting many of San Francisco’s hottest spots. No matter the location, however, it is clear that the pair are deeply enamored with each other.

No details have been released on the exact date and location of the wedding, but our sources say they plan to marry soon in anticipation of the expected merger between Stark Industries and Pym Technology. Needless to say, we at the San Francisco Chronicle expect the event to be as lavish and opulent as the man, Tony Stark, himself.

***

Truthfully, she had no idea that they would do a piece on her and Tony’s engagement, although in hindsight it didn’t really surprise her. He was one of the most wealthy and successful men in California, why wouldn’t they? However, what really surprised her was that her parents were subscribed to the newspaper. Why they felt the need to keep up with the going-ons of San Francisco life from all the way in Texas, she had no clue.

“You know there’s this nifty little invention called a telephone missy and I know you have one of those fancy cellular phones with you all the time. And don’t for a second say that you called but we didn’t answer, because we even have an answering machine now. James went and got us one for Christmas so that we could stop ‘accidentally’ missing all those ‘calls’ you’ve been making—” Her mother’s tone was accusing and rightfully so. It was true. Marianne had a nasty habit of not calling home and lying about it later, but she had found over the years that things were easier when she spent less time thinking about home. Unfortunately, she did not know about the answering machine and now she had nothing to say for herself. “And to think we spent 18 years feeding you and raising you and giving you everything we could just for you to go and get engaged to a man we’ve never even heard of, let alone met!”

“Tony and I were talking about flying you, daddy, and Bucky down a week or so before the wedding, so you could spend some time with me and Tony. You know, get to know him and all,” said Marianne sheepishly, suddenly feeling so dumb she could throw herself on the ground and miss.

“A week?! Honey, I know you don’t think we’re gonna’ wait a week before the wedding to meet this man. You realize he never even asked your daddy for his blessing? He’s none too pleased about it neither. The man’s got a bur in his saddle so large you could see it from Houston.

“Mama, I’m not property. Tony doesn’t need daddy’s—”

“Nuh uh, you zip it right now missy. At the end of the day, it’s the principle Marianne Grace. Now, we wanna’ meet this man. Soon,” said Winifred so sternly Marianne could just envision her pacing the kitchen in a rage.

“Okay, I’m sure we would be more than happy to fly you all over whenever you like,” stated Marianne, standing and looking over to where Tony was fully engrossed in his work at his expansive glass dining room table. She tried to catch his eye, but he had yet to unglue his eyes from the screen of his laptop and the stacks of paper around him. Marianne was halfway to him when her mother’s words stopped her in her tracks.

“Your daddy can’t get a day off from the ranch any time soon since Sam Wilson fell off the barn roof and broke his arm; and Bucky’s busy with his practice and helping to fill in for Sam.”

Marianne swallowed thickly, “So what do you want to do?”

“You two will come here,” her mother stated flatly.

“Mama, I don’t think that’s a good—”

“No arguing with me Marianne,” interrupted Winifred before continuing in a softer tone. “You haven’t been back home in almost six years. It’ll do you some good to come home and spend some quality time with your family. We miss you honey.”

“I miss you too mama, but there’s absolutely no way Tony and I can make it down to Texas before the wedding.”

***

The air was hot and muggy in the small plane as they sat docked on the tarmac at Austin-Bergstrom International Airport. They’d been sitting there waiting for an open terminal for nearly an hour, but it felt like four. Marianne was ready to open the emergency exit herself and face homeland security if it meant getting a breath of air that wasn’t shared with a hundred other people. Therefore, she was in no way ready to hear the news that Natasha had for her when she turned her cellphone back on.

“What do you mean Montecito fell through?!” exclaimed, smiling sheepishly to be the people around her in apology before turning towards the window and lowering her voice. “Please telling me you’re joking Nat. I really can’t handle any bad news right now.”

“I wish I were Mari, but unfortunately it wouldn’t matter if Tony had more money than God. There’s no way you two are finding a decent venue in California until at least next summer,” said Nat, only adding to Marianne’s stress level. She ran a hand through her brown curls, already feeling them begin to grow and frizz in the dry Texas climate. Yet, another reason to hate it there.

“Are you sure? Did you try Fairmont?” Marianne asked in desperation.

“Sweetie, I’ve tried Fairmont, The Langham Huntington, Montecito, Sherwood, Oak Mountain…you name it; I’ve called and been told no. Are you sure you guys can’t put off the wedding till next year?”

“No, Tony is dead set on having the wedding in June and seeing as it’s April, well…” Marianne trailed off, unsure of how even to end that sentence. Two months. Tony had given her two months to plan this wedding and she was scrambling. She felt the plane lurch forward as it began a slow crawl across the asphalt. The overhead intercom crackled before announcing they would be departing the plane in ten minutes. The plane erupted into a smattering of applause that seemed to rouse a sleeping child as a high-pitched cry sounded soon after.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were knocked up,” laughed Natasha, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

“At this point, a pregnancy would be the least of my worries,” sighed Marianne, leaning back in her seat and plugging her free ear with her finger. As the plane continued to move towards its gate, the space filled with the sound of passengers gathering their things and chatting excited.

“Where are you? It sounds like a carnival on your end.”

Marianne laughed bitterly, “A carnival would be more fun. Unfortunately, I’m currently stuck on the world’s most uncomfortable airplane.”

“An airplane? Where could you possibly be going right now?! We have a wedding to plan in less than two months!” exclaimed Natasha in exasperation.

“It’s less where I’m going and more where I am, actually.”

“Okay, well then please, enlighten me. Where are you?”

“I’m in Texas,” confessed Marianne, unbuckling her seatbelt and standing as the plane door finally opened and the deboarding process began.

“Oh no…”

“Oh yes.”

Two hours later and Marianne was convinced that her luck couldn’t get any worse. As if Texas itself was punishing her for six long years away, the airline lost her luggage indefinitely and her taxi driver got lost, twice, before they finally pulled up to her parents’ home in Georgetown, Texas. The farmhouse was small; built in the 1800s as a place of residence for the ranch foreman, it still held its original purpose. White with baby blue shutters and a large wrap around porch, Marianne had many memories of sitting on the porch swing and watching the time inch by. Stepping out of the air-conditioned sanctuary of the cab, the full force of southern heat hit her square in the face. Before she could even turn to close the car door behind her, her mother’s excited cries floated through the air. The screen door squeaked and groaned as the greying woman heaved it open and ran towards her daughter with open arms.

“My baby is finally home! Hallelujah!” cried Winifred, engulfing her daughter in a tight hug. Winifred Barnes, standing a few good inches shorter than her daughter, hugged her with surprising force. Years of helping out on the farm left her figure lean and muscular, while years of good ol’ southern cooking left her with a pair of hips that still made most of the men in town turn their head when she passed by. Of course, none of that was new to Winifred. In her day, the woman had been the bell of the ball in Texas society. A former debutant and pageant queen, she had the pick of any wealthy Texan she came across, but when it all came down to it, she had chosen George Barnes – a lowly ranch hand with no prospects outside of roping, riding, and herding cattle.

“Hi mama, it’s good to see you,” said Marianne, feeling her heart clench slightly as she hugged her mother tightly. She was surprised to see some grey in the blonde, pin straight hair Marianne had always envied growing up. The lines at the corner of her mother’s eyes and mouth made her wonder for a moment if she truly had been gone for too long.

“Do you need help with your things?” Winifred asked, looking between Marianne and the taxi driver who was currently making no move to get out and help her daughter with her luggage.

“Oh! Hold on—” Marianne leaned back into the taxi and dug into her purse before pulling out cash for the driver “—Sorry. Thank you so much.”

With that she exited the cab, purse, and small carry-on in hand, slamming the car door behind her. The cab took off with a cloud of dust that sent Marianne and her mother into a small fit of coughs.

“They lost my luggage. I’m supposed to be hearing from them some time in the next few days, but they told me not to get my hopes up. Apparently, my bags never even made it on the plane,” Marianne told her mother.

“Oh dear. I hope they find them; it’d be a shame for you to lose all those fancy clothes—" her mother took a moment to take in Marianne’s outfit, an outfit Tony had bought her for her birthday actually. She thought the black pencil skirt, white Calvin Klein button up and thick chunky belt cinched at her waist was a cute ensemble, but judging from the way her mother appraised her, perhaps she was wrong “—we’ve still got all of your old clothes. I’m sure they’ll fit you. If anything, they’ll be too big! You are so skinny; do they not eat in California?”

“Yes, they eat plenty mama. Don’t worry. Now, where’s daddy?”

“Well he should be coming in soon. He found a section of fence down up past the crick, so he took the boys up with him to fix it,” said Winifred, looking out into the distant pasture.

“I thought Sam broke his arm.”

“He did, but the damn fool still insists on helping where he can. Couldn’t get him off that horse if I tried and the good Lord knows I have. Still, your daddy won’t let him do much. Till then Steven and your brother are putting in extra work to fill in the gaps.”

Just the utterance of his name was enough to throw Marianne for a loop, “I didn’t know Steve worked here now.”

“Oh, he doesn’t dear. He’s just helping out. He’s still over at—oh there they are!” exclaimed Winifred, pointing out in the far distance where the silhouette of four men on horse back could be seen against the setting sun.

They should have been indiscriminate from each other from that far of a distance, but Marianne knew without a doubt which one of the men was Steven Rogers. Larger and thicker than the rest of the men, he held a certain grace in the saddle that most professional riders lacked, but Marianne would know anywhere. As they got closer, approaching at a well-paced canter, she couldn’t help but keep her gaze trained on the man in question. The one person she was least excited to see upon coming home. It was no secret how she felt about him. Everyone knew her disdain for the man ran deep, however he was unavoidable given he was her brother’s best friend. Spitefully, she imagined that after all this time he would have gotten fat or perhaps lost all his hair – anything to cut back the enormous ego he possessed. Yet, as they approached it was to her dismay that the exact opposite was true. Not only was he not fat and bald, but he was probably more muscular than he’d been the last time she saw him and his thick, dirty blonde hair was thicker and longer than ever, hanging down to the nape of his neck under the brim of his tan Stetson. To top it all off, the bastard had a beard so thick and rugged, it put Kenny Rogers to shame…bastard.

She had no time to focus on the way the sweat glistened off the exposed skin of Steve’s neck or the way his thick thighs gripped the leather below him, because the moment they were close enough her older brother of two years was launching himself out of the saddle and onto her. His large, strong arms wrapped around her middle and hoisted her into the air, spinning her in the air and nearly causing her ankle boots to fly clear off her feet. When he finally placed her back on the ground, his grin was as wide as the Mississippi and as bright as the blinding Texan sun.

“There she is!” he beamed before looking all around her. “Where’s that fancy fiancé of yours?”

“He’s not coming till Wednesday, remember?” called their mother over her shoulder as she made her way back to the porch steps.

“He had some business to take care of before he could come down. Figured I’d come down ahead and let you get all of your crazy out before you meet him. That way you don’t scare him off,” teased Marianne, punching her brother’s arm in good spirits. “You look good. How’s the practice?”

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes was the most accomplished of the Barnes’ children. After undergrad at the University of Houston, he went on to become a veterinarian and take over the old clinic right in town. Of course, that couldn’t be enough for the young Barnes man. No, he had to be annoyingly handsome as well; possessing the same brown curls as her, his boyish smile, tall height, and muscular stature always seemed to work in his favor. “Oh, it’s great. Busy as all get up,” he answered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his dirty wranglers.

“What? Your old man doesn’t get a hug as well?” asked George Barnes, handing his and Bucky’s reigns over to Steve before walking over to her and engulfing her in another hug. A feeling of safety and serenity washed over her as she hugged her father tightly. In truth, she’d always been a daddy’s girl. Never did she miss a moment growing up to help her father on the farm right alongside her brother. George Barnes, while coming across as stern and taciturn at times, was nothing more than a soft, kind-hearted man.

“Hi daddy. I missed you.”

“I missed you too pumpkin. My successful, big city daughter has been away for too long,” her father teased, an edge of sincerity to his tone. She gave him one last tight squeeze before releasing herself and turning her attention away from her father’s comment and instead to Sam Wilson. Sure enough, there he was, cast and all, sitting high and good-naturedly on the back of his Appaloosa. He was everything her mother described, kind brown eyes, a sweet gapped smile, cropped black hair, and deep tawny skin that glistened in the warm setting sun.

“You must be Sam!” Marianne said enthusiastically, crossing the distance and holding her hand out to him. Sam came to work on the ranch a few years after she left and while she’d never met him, she had heard quite a bit about him. Originally from Alabama, Sam Wilson moved out to Texas chasing a girl and fell in love with the open range and rolling river of Georgetown instead.

“And you must be Marianne. Pleasure to finally meet you,” Sam greeted her, taking her hand in his good one and giving it a gentle shake.

“Please, call me Mari. How’s your ar—”

“I’m gonna’ go put the horses up, George,” the gruff timbre of Steve’s voice interrupted her, the sound both grating to her ears and causing her heart to leap in her chest.

“Oh, alright. Do you want any help?” asked George, turning away from his daughter as Steve began to ride away, leading the other two mares along with him.

“Nah, you stay and catch up. I’ll only be a minute.”

“I should probably go and help him,” said Sam, grinning pleasantly at them before righting himself in the saddle and turning his horse back towards the barn.

“Why don’t you get settled in your room, while your brother and I get cleaned up for supper?” her father suggested, breaking Marianne out of her stupor. She only realized then that she’d been watching Sam and Steve intently as they rode away and disappeared into the large, red barn.

Marianne’s room hadn’t changed a bit. Apparently, her mother had never even given a thought to redecorating or repurposing the room and for that, she didn’t know whether to be grateful or concerned. The same baby pink covered the walls and stuffed animals adorned the surface of her flowery bedspread. Posters littered the walls showcasing the stars of her youth including The Dixie Chicks, Shania Twain, and, embarrassingly, Randy Travis on the ceiling above her bed. Trinkets of her childhood remained on shelves and her desktop. 4-H ribbons and trophies sat in all their glory, reflecting the days in which she put more stock in goat wrangling and horseback riding than watercolor technique and Renoir’s crippling arthritis. It was like walking into a living memorial of the late 90s in the loudest and most obnoxious way possible. She placed her purse and carryon on the bed when a thought popped into her head. Rushing to her closet, she pushed through the clothing, shoes, and a few boxes till she found the special hiding place she created all those years ago.

“Aha!” Marianne exclaimed when her fingers wrapped around the binding of her old diary. Suppressing a childlike giggle, she sat down on the thick carpet of her bedroom floor and opened the dusty journal to a random page.

Dear Diary,

Last week Mrs. Darlene said she was bringing in an older student to fill in for her and teach some of the class and you wouldn’t believe who it ended up being. That’s right. Steve. I mean, I shouldn’t have been surprised. He’s like the most talented artist in the school. Clint reckons he’s going to Julliard or Paris or something when he graduates. Too bad I still have to deal with his annoying face till then. It’s bad enough that I have to see him all the time at home with Buck. Now I have to see him in my classes too? Of course, he just had to get on my nerves too. He couldn’t just leave me well enough alone. He kept leaning over my shoulder and telling me my shading needed work. Sorry we can’t all be artistic geniuses. Some of us are just okay.

After class Clint kept saying how he thinks Steve has a crush on me. I said if that were true then he wouldn’t spend every waking moment with his tongue shoved down Sharon Carter’s throat. Of course, Clint had to go and rile my feathers by saying I was jealous. AS IF! I wouldn’t want Steven Rogers’ tongue within spitting distance of me, let alone in my mouth.

I mean, sure. He does have nice eyes and I can see how some people might think he’s handsome, but he’s no Tom Selleck. I wouldn’t kiss him if someone paid me $1000. Anyways, that’s all for today Diary.

Till next time,

Mari Grace xoxo

“Marianne! Supper’s on!” called Winifred from down the stairs, sending Marianne into a spiral of déjà vu. She shut the journal tightly, throwing it back into her closet before standing and heading downstairs. The expansive kitchen was everything she remembered from the olive-green cupboards to the faded pine table sat on a threadbare rug. She was the last to arrive, finding the table full and the setting across from Steve the only available spot. Begrudgingly she sat, purposefully avoiding any and all eye contact with the man sat in front of her. Instead, she opted to turn her attention to the delicious food in front of her.

Her mother had gone all out cooking her favorite foods: fried chicken, new peas and potatoes in cream sauce, corn on the cob, ham steak, green bean casserole, salad, fresh rolls, corn bread, and if her intuition was correct there was sure to be a peach cobbler sitting  in the oven at that very moment.

“Wow mama, I hope you didn’t cook all of this on my account,” said Marianne, grabbing a chicken leg from the platter in front of her.

“Well it’s not every day my only daughter decides to grace us with her presence. I didn’t know if you still liked the same things, so I made a bit of everything,” said Winifred, helping herself to a bit of salad.

“Yea, we didn’t know if you’d become one of those vegetarians like all those hippies in California,” laughed Bucky, cutting a large piece of ham steak, and shoving it in his mouth.

“They’re not all vegetarians and they’re not all hippies. But even if they were, there’s nothing wrong with being morally and environmentally conscious of what you consume,” remarked Marianne putting a bit of potatoes on her plate and picking up her fork.

“Yea, a consciousness that could put all of us out of work,” said Steve bitterly.

Surprised at his comment, Marianne glared at Steve in annoyance. His face was tilted down towards his plate, but she didn’t need to see his eyes to know that he thought she was all hat and no kettle. She felt a heat begin to bubble just below the surface but bit her tongue. Turning to her father, she asked him how things were going around the ranch.

“They’re as good as any. Flannigan is thinkin’ of sellin’ again, but he’s promised if he does, he’d put it in writin’ that they have to keep me on as foreman. Looks like this ol’ place isn’t rid of me yet,” laughed George.

“Have you thought about buying the ranch yourself daddy?” asked Marianne, who’d never understood why her father never took the next step.

“Oh, I don’t know about that…”

“Sure, you can daddy. You definitely have the know how and I bet you and mama could qualify for some kind of loa—”

“There’s a lot more that goes into buying a ranch than you know, Marianne. It’s not as easy as snapping your fingers and having your rich fiancé get it for you with daddy’s money,” interrupted Steve, now looking up from his plate at her with a superior expression.

“Yes, I’m sure you know all about success what with going to college and—oh wait. You didn’t. You’re just still working at the Double R for old man Jackson like you were almost ten years ago. My mistake. And it’s Mari to you,” bit back Marianne, angrily stabbing into the food on her plate.

“Marianne you don’t—” began Winifred, stopping when Steve held up a hand.

“That’s alright Wini. She said what she said. I’m sure it’s easy to look down on all of us from such a high and mighty position as a middle school art teacher. Isn’t that right, Marianne,” said Steve smugly.

Marianne’s blood boiled, a red-hot rage heating her face, “At least I actually did something with my talent, Stevie.”

“That’s enough you two. If ya’ll can’t act civil at the table, you can just leave. Steven, you’re just as much a part of this family as anyone else, but you’re also a guest and you know better. Marianne, your mother worked very hard on this meal and we’re all excited to finally have you home. Don’t make us change our minds,” George scolded them, the kitchen going quiet as Steve and Marianne hung their heads in shame. It was silent for a while, the sounds of forks and knifes scraping their plates filling the air before someone finally spoke up.

“I was vegetarian for a while,” remarked Sam, putting his corn cob down and wiping his hands on his napkin.

“What?!” asked Bucky in surprise, “When?”

“I think I was…twenty? There was this new girl that started working down at the local diner in Mobile that was vegetarian. Rumor had it she only dated other vegetarians, so I came every day and ordered a veggie burger for lunch hoping she’d notice and we’d strike up a conversation,” Sam told them, reaching forward and grabbing a roll. “Turns out, she wasn’t a vegetarian. She was an Episcopalian.”

The table erupted into a fit of laughter, Marianne herself giggling so hard tears were brought to her eyes. “How long did you go in before you found out?” asked Marianne, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with her napkin.

“About a month.”

The group laughed even harder.

“See, that’s the difference between you and me Sammy. I’ve done a lot of stupid things for girls, but I’ve never let them change me,” said Bucky resolutely.

“Nah man, it’s not changin’ yourself. It’s takin’ a chance on love! You’ll never settle down if you aren’t willing to risk it all for the woman you love,” Sam put wisely, earning him a fond pat on the cheek from her mother.

Marianne smiled happily, missing the gentle banter that a meal at home could bring. She felt the prickle of gooseflesh rise on her neck and the looming sense that someone was staring a hole in the side of her head. On instinct she turned to find Steve’s stormy blue eyes trained on her in solemn concentration. Their gazes locked for a moment, a strange mix of emotions flooding from Steve that made her heart clench in her chest. Then, as quickly as they had appeared, they were gone. Steve was the first to break their connection, turning to George and beginning a quiet side conversation about the new cow horse he’d just bought.

“Don’t listen to this liar Sam. Buck has definitely changed himself for a girl,” said Marianne, shaking off the strange encounter and turning back to the rest of the table.

“What are you talking about girl?” asked Bucky in exaggerated confusion.

“Oh, you don’t remember Suzie Quentin?” Marianne questioned, knowing Bucky remembered exactly who Suzie Quentin was.

“Now wait—” began Bucky, shortly being cut off by Marianne as she turned to Sam to regale the tale.

“In the eighth grade Suzie Quentin said she thought Louis in Interview with a Vampire was hot and so Bucky spent a whole year growing out his hair so he could look like Brad Pitt!” said Marianne with a loud guffaw, moving away as Bucky tried to cover her mouth to keep her from talking. “Except, he didn’t know how to take care of long hair so—”

Bucky was successful the second go around, managing to clamp a hand over Marianne’s mouth so that the only sounds heard from her were a jumble of muffled words.

“Don’t listen to her, Sammy. She’s got a head full of stump water.”

When Marianne had finally managed to wrangle herself out of Bucky’s hold, she couldn’t find it in herself to be mad at her older brother. Quite the opposite really. A sense of sadness filled her at the realization that for six long years she’d missed out on this. The lightness. The familiarity. The happiness that only her family could provide. And for what? Taking another glance towards the large, sun kissed man across from her she felt a renewed sense of bitterness towards the man.

Once dinner finished and everyone was full on peach cobbler and homemade vanilla ice cream, Marianne excused herself from the table, standing and making her way to the porch. The sun had set. The brightness of the moon, hung fat and heavy and almost full in the sky, lit up the night. More stars than she could ever remember shone brightly from above creating a familiar wonder she often felt growing up. She never felt that in San Francisco, where the stars were constantly shrouded by heavy clouds and the lights of the city.

Reaching into her skirt pocket, she pulled out her cell phone and was surprised to find only a single text from Natasha informing her that their caterer had backed out. Nothing from her fiancé who promised to check in on her the moment he could. Of course, he probably was too busy with work. Sighing, she tried not to think about the wedding for at least one night and instead dialed Tony. The phone rang for a few moments before he picked up. From the other end she could hear the raucous sounds of people, music, and laughter blaring through.

“You’ve reached Tony: multimillionaire, genius, extraordinaire,” answered Tony, his voice vibrant and jovial.

“Tony, hey,” said Marianne feeling slightly confused. She thought he had a late-night conference call with Tokyo that night.

“Mari! Hold on one second—” the boisterous noise began to fade and then a door clicked shut before Tony spoke again “—sorry about that. How was your flight? Did you make it to Texas alright?”

“Yea, I did. Unfortunately, they lost all of my luggage, but it could be worse. My mom still has pretty much all my stuff here from high school still,” Marianne laughed lightly, leaning against the railing of the porch, and gripping it tightly. Her palms were slick with sweat despite the temperature cooling exponentially with the setting sun. Why on earth was she so nervous?

“Do you want me to have some of your things express shipped over to you?” asked Tony kindly.

“No, no need. I can get by. I suppose if I really need something that badly, you can pack it when you come down later this week.”

“Well, don’t go without it you don’t need to. You have the card I gave you. Don’t be afraid to buy whatever you need,” remarked Tony in the offhanded way in which he solved almost all of his problems. Normally this kind of answer wouldn’t make her think twice, but that night something about it irked her.

“Right. Hey, I thought you had nonstop meetings all this week. It sounds like you’re at a party.”

“Oh right, well, you know. Sometimes a meeting is a room full of boring people in suits and sometimes a meeting is cocktails and firebreathers on a rooftop,” joked Tony. Marianne could just envision the charming, devilish smile on his face. It usually did a fine job of getting him out of most trouble, but Marianne found that her inability to see it in person left her feeling put off. Before she could open her mouth to say as much, Marianne heard the sound of a door opening and then muffled voices. “That would be a business associate wanting to talk to me about reactor batteries. So…” Tony dragged out the word, waiting for her to make the decision on whether their phone call was about to end. Marianne paused. In this moment she could get mad, or she could let her fiancé continue to ride the high of a successful business for a while longer.

“Go. Have fun changing the world over flaming tequila shots,” sighed Marianne in good humor. Who was she to rain on his parade?

“God, I love you. Wednesday can’t come soon enough.”

Before Marianne could even get the words ‘I love you too’ out, the line went dead, and she was left standing alone on her parents’ porch in the deathly silence of the country. Or so she thought.

“Big city boyfriend too busy to talk?” asked Steve, sidling up beside her and leaning against the porch. He placed all his weight upon a single veiny forearm laid upon the chipping paint, crossing his long, lean legs, and cocking his hip to the side. It was the familiar ease in which he held himself that while normally made her skin itch, instead filled her with a weighty exhaustion she hadn’t felt in years. It had been a lot for a first day back.

“Fiancé and it’s none of your business,” spat Marianne, her tone barely holding half of the harshness it held earlier when they argued. She folded her arms around her like a protective blanket and looked out on the darkening fields ahead of her.

“Oh, come on Marianne—”

She sent a bone chilling glare in his direction that stopped Steve in his tracks. He let out a long breath.

“You’re right, it’s none of my business. Look, I just came out here to apologize. I didn’t mean to start a fight in there. God knows Wini and George wanted things to go well tonight and I’m sure us bickerin’ didn’t help any. They’d be devastated if you decided to wait another six years to come and see ‘em.”

“Don’t for a second think you have any right to talk to me about my family. Or to try and make me feel guilty for being gone. Not when you’re the reason I stayed away so long,” scoffed Marianne, taking one last glaring look at the man above her and storming back into the house, making Steve the one alone in the deathly silence of the country.

Taglist:

@hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall​

@caffiend-queen​

@grincheveryday

[strawberryybird]

Me sees the character songs post, immediately wants to know what character songs you have for the characters and why.

ok so. welcome to the rabbit hole that is my music taste and what is my no.1 most frequently done activity.. plastering emotions i have for fictional characters all over my music taste. I restricted myself to ¾ songs for each character & then to Edie, Hubert, Dorothea, Lysithea & Byleth because otherwise we’d be here all day (and those are the Primary Daydream Candidates rn)

under a rm because as im sure we’ve all seen.. i just don’t fucking stop.. also i got weirdly deep about some of these topics. i don’t know how to tag it. tread careful?

Here are some songs.. welcome to my (notoriously bad) music taste. alsoi go in Very heavy handed about it all. i make only a few apologies:

Edelgard:Everybody wants to rule the word - tears for fears. (ucan go with Lorde’s cover but i prefer the original bc im like that.) i meanit’s pretty heavy handed but it’s such an Edelgard song it !!!! fuels my ficwriting. if it’s not so very Edelgard’s relationship with twsitd then idk whatto tell you. plus it’s an iconic song

Medicine - daughter. (daughter is My Favourite Band. Ever. I cannot articulate how much ilove their (and ex:re’s) music!!) anway. this is a hegegard song & i don’ttake constructive criticism. I’ll reiterate this better in other descriptions,but please don’t take my inclusion of a song about such a topic as adevaluation of it in any way, that’s not my intention. The reason I go so feralfor Hegegard is because im no stranger to watching someone you care about hurt themselvesin a way you can’t stop, and that’s what the AM ending evokes in me. Hence: asong I love that one can read the same story in. And then the lyrics ‘You couldstill be / What you want to / What you said you were / When I met you” just !! parallelsEdge of Dawn’s lyrics about regret & overall I’m very feral about this.

(Don’t Fear) The Reaper - blue oystercult. this is PRIME Edelgard telling freshly-awokenbyleth she’s been waging war for 5 years. also !!!! “Seasonsdon’t fear the reaper / Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain, we can be likethey are” >>> “The Edge of Dawn (Seasons ofWarfare) (フレスベルグの少女～風花雪月～,lit. Girl of Hresvelg ~Wind, Flower, Snow, Moon~)” .. the link is tenuous but coincidence?? is it, fuck.

Seneca - Novo Amor. this is another one of those songs that could mean something different to everyone. very easy to project onto, is novo amor. I like the story of being prepared to run and break ties at any given moment, but ending up - emotionally or physically - in the same place one always was. apart from the glaring tie of how Edelgard returned to garreg mach, this song is a lot of me trying to repatriate Edelgard’s lack of emotional arc in the game by saying . well. this song. 

You can call me Al -  paul simon. am i projecting edeleth thoughts onto my favourite song? it’s morelikely than you think!!! but also i like the chorus and all the exasperating ‘call me el’jokes i can make.. i may be half writing a fic based on this song.

Dorothea:Agnes - glass animals. so i have significant emotions about edelthea at the best of times !! and this song !!! really bloody hits it home !! yes I knowit’s got a really heavy and real subject matter and I’m not trying to devalueit or minimise it.. but the story - about watching someone close to you hurtthemselves/get hurt, and doing so in ways you can’t stop them from - is adamn real one. And a Lot of why I love Dorothea’s character in the gamebecause she’s the one who can’t stop her friends from getting hurt – through exposureto warfare .. or  stopping Edelgard becomingthe monster at the end of the story. Even though she’s one of the healers onthe beagle’s team. And I feel that.

Ex’s and Oh’s – Elle King. So you know that one spn fanvid featuringthis song about all of dean winchester’s relationships? That, but for my flirting Queen Dorothea Arnault. (and I have the dumbest most fun little headcanon thatonce Dorothea and Sylvain derailed a lgbt+ society meeting whilst Edie wastrying to go over the budget by blasting this song and dancing on the table.The idea makes me laugh)

Hold My Girl – George Ezra. The whole thing about wanting just that onemoment to cherish the people you love for one moment more before you have goout face the world? If that’s not the timeskip’d Dorothea Arnault Aesthetic, Idon’t know what is.

(Call Me Out – sea girls. On a much lighter note, this song is fueling the later half of mydrafts of road trip au. And it’s literally because of that one verse. im gayshut up.)

Hubert:Red Right Hand – nick cave and the bad seeds. Is it on the nose? Is itheavy handed? Oh u fuckin bet but that won’t stop me!!! A) it’s a good song. ItIs. B) I like narrative songs. C) Any ‘red right hand’ symbolism in Anycharacter has me love them immediately and also plonk this song in the middleof any playlist about them. sure, the artic monkeys version might be a bit more on hubert’s brand.. but my mileage varies about it lmao

I had fortress by bear’s den earmarked for Hubie, as I think it’s easilyread about boundaries and a one sided intense relationship & that’s! Hubiebaybee! But I can’t possibly cover unhealthy relationships without shoving thealbum Hospice by The Antlers into every which way of it. It’s by no meansdirectly translatable to Edelgard and hubert’s relationship and it’s arguable ifI should even mention it in the same sentence as a bloody fictional character… that beingsaid, I’ve been having emotions about:Shiva – the antlers. This song specifically reads to me to be a really goodarticulation of my own thoughts about Hubert’s perspective of Edie getting experimentedon. heavy but damn. I like that. I just see a lot of what their teen years togethermust have been like in Shiva.

Time – Pink Floyd. Ok so.. it’s like Hubert in parallel bc I think thissong is a lot about searching for a purpose/reason or a quote unquote bloodyred path in life. And I may have been listening to it when I watched Hubert/DorotheaA support & now it’s just permanently associated with it bc it complementedit so well. And I like it. So . it stays. It’s very much a beagles song to meas well.

Lysithea:The Beautiful Dream – George Ezra. Ok so I read this Edelysithea ficwith this on repeat bc the title reminded me of it, and then I stuck it onrepeat because it worked too well and now.. im crying.. and i like the inflection of Lysithea’s bitterness over the titular lyric. (but also, it remains one of my steadfast edeleth songs.. sorry lys)

Secrets (Cellar Door) – Radical Face. Another Edelgard&/Lysitheasong!! I really like their relationship ok. And given the song itself can beread straight or an allegory for whatever you particularly want, but the storyis just too on the nose for me not to mention it here.(also general advocation of listening to the whole of radical face’s musicbecause I’ve loved it for years now & the work is beautiful.) (also it’swonderful for fe awakening projection. Or ur own.)

Oh Children – nick cave and the bad seeds. there’s a million different interpretations of this song, but to try nail a few onto Lysithea.. there’s the harry potter use of making/finding a light in the depths of tragedy & i love that for Lys. there’s the whole ‘the kids aren’t alright’ theme and it’s various depths. and i like narrative lyrics to plaster my large fictional-character-caused-emotions onto, so make of this one what you will.

Marianne (and Lysithea too if you like)Bad Blood – Radical Face. Ok so. This is one of my favourite songs in bloodyexistence, and it’s so loaded with meaning & it has a metric tonne of it. Icould wax lyrical about how much I love Radical Face’s work. I don’t want myinclusion of this song (specifically this one) to in any way devalue it. Butmusic is ofc incredibly subjective, and so is my reading of a lot of threehouses – in case it’s not bloody obvious by now. There’s a Lot of stories onecould take from Marianne’s character (and none of them are More Valid^tm thanany other), and I do see a very personal story in her – as I do in this song. Hgghhghive just spent 10 minutes trying to find an impersonal way to talk about twovery personal and relative stories, which naturally doesn’t work. That, and theway I read her story is Real Fucking Dicey for tumblr.com. so if this song is about accepting rejection because of parts of yourself so deep they’re in your blood, i think.. y’all can see.. where my neurodivergent gay self is going with this..

Byleth:Something to Believe In – Tom Walker. Yeah. You’re bloody welcome. If this isn’ta completely on the nose Byleth song, I’ll eat Dorothea’s hat.

Don’t Let the Man – Fatboy Slim. ~ And the sign said green-hairedpartially possessed emotionally void mercenaries need not apply for aprofessorship at the country’s most prestigious academic centre… ~

Emigrate - Novo Amor. this just fucking Got Me in the ‘actively choosing crimson flower’ feelings. im an emotional wreak but its aight. the lyrics just matched up too well for me to let it go !!!

Alps - Novo Amor. this hit me in the ‘i miss the gremlin child sothis’ feelings one day and now it’s permanently stuck that way.

Make Them Gold – chvrches. (this is very much associated with awakening’sfuture past kids and also the Carmilla series in my mind But!!) I love a story about‘if we’re all falling, we’re going down together’ and the magical power of teamwork, and how it brings out the best in people.. & that’s what this song& Byleth kinda bloody stand for ya know??

woooh.. oh my god . i need another cup of tea.

[ohprettyweeper-moved]

Open Your Eyes (Part 2)

Chapter Summary: Old friends and new friends come together for a photo shoot for Frank’s and Tyler’s collabs with Vans.  Pairing: Tyler Joseph x OFC, Frank Iero x OFC Word Count: 1885 Warnings: None? A/N: I needed something fun and cute to write with low pressure so that I could stop worrying about a more serious piece I’m working on for a bit. This five-part crossover series was the result! It’s cheesy and fluffy and is probably akin to something you’d see on the Hallmark Channel, but that’s how I intended it to be. Thanks to @razor-tothe-rosary for your help and encouragement! Enjoy reading, everyone!

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Masterlist

Five musicians had been chosen to collaborate on a shoe and apparel design with Vans, and Emerson wasn’t sure whose design she would be modeling, but she wasn’t surprised that she had one of the earliest call times that day.

She had been in hair and makeup for about five minutes when Americus walked in and took the seat next to her. Emerson was only slightly in awe, since she was used to meeting other models with longer resumes, but Americus was on a higher level than Emerson.

“Are you okay?” Americus asked.

Emerson cleared her throat and apologized. “Sorry, didn’t mean to stare. It’s just -- well, I thought since I’m newer in the industry, that’s how I drew the short straw and got such an early call time.”

“I think they’ve got two photographers, and the musicians had first dibs. Some of them like to get it over with early so they can relax the rest of the day,” Americus explained. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to tell me your name. I don’t think we’ve met before.”

“Emerson,” she replied. “Americus, right?”

The other woman nodded. “You’ve got a unique name. That’s good in this industry -- you’ll stand out in people’s memories. Where are you from?”

Emerson launched into her background and growing up in Jersey. Americus shared similar stories about her life in Columbus, and they both talked about how they had gotten into the modeling business. Their stories weren’t that different, starting local and growing from there. Americus had simply started earlier than Emerson.

By the time they were on to wardrobe, Emerson and Americus were like old friends. They had traded contact information and were looking forward to getting together next time both of their schedules allowed for it.

“I swear, the plan for my butt to hang out of the shorts they put me in,” Americus sighed, tugging the denim shorts down as far as they would go. She turned and surveyed her backside in the mirror. “That’s better I guess. You lucked out with jeans, Em.”

Emerson nodded. “Can’t argue that. I haven’t had to do anything with shorts in a while, but the last dress I had to model was more like a long shirt. Yikes.”

An assistant came to take them to set where the girls waited in between the two backdrops while the photographers did lighting checks and the musicians finished up in hair and makeup.

“All right, ladies, I think we’re ready,” the shoot director announced.

“Good luck!” Americus called to Emerson as they parted.

“You too,” Emerson returned, cheekily adding, “Watch that backside!”

Americus laughed as she walked to take her mark on the red backdrop. She looked up at the man walking towards her and gasped.

“Ty?” she exclaimed.

The man with the yellow tape on his jacket and fingers looked just as surprised as she was, but was fully expecting the hug Americus launched herself into. He held her tight, picking her up off the ground.

“Americus? I can’t believe it’s really you!”

“Same,” she chuckled, wiggling back down to the floor. “How have you been? Congrats on all this, and the band -- everything.”

“You too,” he returned. The photographer cleared his throat, and Tyler waved an acknowledgement. “Sorry, we’re old friends, from before anyone really knew who we were. Give us just a second, we’ll be ready.”

“Are you in town for long?” was Americus’s next question.

Tyler shrugged. “Today and tomorrow. Staying with a friend.”

“Well, I’m free after this, if you are. We need to catch up.”

“Count me in,” Tyler agreed eagerly.

“I’m Frank Iero,” the hazel-eyed man greeted Emerson.

She returned his handshake and his smile. “Emerson. I love this design, by the way. Kind of hoping they’ll let me keep everything.”

His smile grew at her half-joking statement. “I’m glad you like it, and it looks good on you. If they don’t let you keep it, I’ll make sure we send you a box of stuff.”

“Thanks,” Emerson grinned. “Ready?”

Frank nodded. “I think so. Let’s take some pictures.”

It was one of the most fun shoots Emerson had done so far. Frank made her feel super relaxed, joking around with her and making the shoot feel nothing like work. She genuinely enjoyed being around him and hoped that, somehow, they would have the opportunity to work together again in the future.

A few hours later, after shooting almost every pose from almost every angle imaginable, the photographer called it a wrap. Emerson saw that Americus was still working, so she waved briefly and motioned that she would call her new friend soon.

After the makeup artist removed her makeup, Emerson washed and moisturized her face, packed up the clothes and shoes they had in fact allowed her to keep, she checked her phone. She had a couple of missed calls from her boyfriend, so she rang him back on speakerphone while she had time.

“I called you twice,” he replied, once the call connected. “I had time to talk then. I don’t have a lot of time now, Em.”

Emerson sighed. “I was working, Jeff. I’m sorry. Had the Vans photo shoot today.”

“Well, I’ve been in the DFW airport for three hours, dealing with a delayed flight. This whole debacle is setting me back two days on work.”

“The shoot went great, thanks for asking,” she mumbled sarcastically.

Jeff scoffed. “I’ll bet you got your hair and makeup done, stood there while someone snapped a camera, and got some free stuff out of it. I figured it went well. Can we get back to talking about my day?”

“No, we can’t,” Emerson snapped, tired of Jeff constantly being gone and not caring one bit about her life. “I’ve got to finish packing up and get out of here. Just call me when you have more time.”

She hit the red button on the screen before he could say anything else and blinked back the tears in her eyes. The relationship with Jeff had started out really well but lately, that just wasn’t the case.

“You shouldn’t let him talk to you like that, you know.”

Wiping at the few tears that had fallen, Emerson turned to see Frank standing just inside the dressing room door, arms crossed over his chest and a concerned look deepening his frown.

Emerson waved it off. “Jeff’s an investment banker. Amazingly smart man, not always the best at handling his frustrations. We’ve been spending a lot of time apart lately, since I’m working on my career, and he isn’t exactly freelance, but he works for a nationwide service. He travels for business a lot.”

“Distance can be hard, I know. My ex is an actress and we just split up at Thanksgiving.” He dropped his arms. “I don’t mean to be forward or anything, and don’t take this the wrong way, but maybe, if you’re not busy, I can take you out for something to eat. Lift both of our spirits.”

“You really don’t have to do that.”

Frank put his hands in his pockets. “This is just as much for you as it is for me. Really. C’mon -- we had a fun shoot, let’s go let off some steam.”

Though she wasn’t entirely sure it was the best idea, as she had always been adamant she wasn’t going to associate with anyone just to bolster her credibility in the industry and she didn’t want it to appear that way, either, Emerson agreed.

“I am a little hungry, I guess.”

Frank smiled. “Good. C’mon, I’ll take you to one of my favorite places around here.”

Emerson shouldered her bag, feeling a little better already.

Americus was laughing as she and Tyler entered her apartment. “It’s really nothing to be impressed by, I promise.”

“I’m impressed by how clean and tidy it is,” Tyler admitted, looking around in awe.

“Eh, don’t be impressed by that, either. I’m gone so much, the cleaning lady comes every other week to keep up with things. Thirsty?”

Tyler asked for water, and after dropping her bags, Americus went to the kitchen for a bottle of water for each of them. They sat on her couch, and she shook her head.

“I still can’t believe, after all these years, this is how we meet again.”

“Me either,” Tyler agreed. “How long has it been? Ten years? Twelve?”

Americus did the mental math. “Almost fourteen. I came out here just before junior year started, finished high school online.”

Tyler nodded like a sudden realization had hit him. “That’s why I never got to take you to prom.”

Americus rolled her eyes. “You weren’t going to take me to prom! Not so long as Mariann was interested in you.”

“Nah, it still would have been you. Would have been way more fun.”

Americus smiled. “Well, thanks. How’s Columbus? Or do you get back that way very often?”

“As often as I can,” Tyler nodded. “Just spent Thanksgiving back home, actually. Was there for a week or so. I didn’t see your family, but I think my parents do every now and then.”

“Good. I talk to my dad at least once a week, to catch up. My schedule … it’s hectic.”

“Not that I know much about the modeling business, but I know about entertainment. Can’t you turn some jobs down to spend more time at home?”

Americus shrugged and let out a deep breath. “It’s just not that easy, Ty. I wish it was -- every time I come home from some party or appearance, I wish it was much simpler. I miss a quiet life. When I started modeling, I was young. I didn’t know where it would lead, you know. Didn’t know it would take me so far from home, from people I love. I rode the wave because I didn’t know what else I would do, and it was stable. But, it won’t be stable forever. I guess that’s why I stay, so I have my little nest egg when they’re done with me.” Her voice was shaky at the end, so she cleared her throat. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get that deep. You’ve always been someone I could talk to.”

“Likewise,” Tyler returned, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “Remember when we were kids and we’d go to the field down from my parents’ house and just be there all day? Maybe you need to come home and we need to do that again.”

She took a deep breath and let her head fall to the back of the couch. “That would be amazing. I’ll be home Christmas and Christmas Eve, then I’m off to Europe, actually.”

Tyler nodded. He was disappointed, but he did his best not to let it show. “Then I guess we’ll have to make the best of tonight. You order the pizza, I’m going to grab my stuff from Josh’s. I’ll get some soda while I’m over there.”

“You bring back Coke and I’m not going to be happy.”

“Don’t worry,” Tyler smiled, heading for the door, “I’ll bring back some of that nasty Pepsi you drink. I remember.”

Americus smiled at the doorway, even after the door was closed behind Tyler. She bit her lip and forced the nostalgic butterflies of her childhood crush to calm themselves.