#to free all of France and tell the queen to fuck off - like??? there was a lump in my throat

[firelise]

Ronke Adekoluejo as Nanon aka Mama Joseph Bologne CHEVALIER (2023)

[heavyhitterheaux]

Nice View (NSFW)

First Lady of Private Garden Blurb

Synopsis: Jack just loves to please you, especially when he has an audience

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: the queen @a-moment-captured 😘💕

Do not engage if underage

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

“Jackman Thomas…” You said in a warning tone and his hands began to make its way lower and lower down your body as he was placing kisses along your neck.

“Yes?” He asked as his hand continued to move further south.

The two of you were in France for the Jacquemus fashion show and Maggie offered to keep the triplets while you went. So, Jack was taking advantage of him being able to have you all to himself.

“Our balcony door is open!” You said while lightly hitting his arm, but all he did was look at you.

“And?”

“What do you mean and? Someone could hear us.”

“Wouldn't be the first time. We both know how loud you can get. Besides, I'm putting in work to make my wife feel good. And when have I ever cared about having an audience?”

“You haven't.” You responded while rolling your eyes as Jack laughed and kissed the shell of your ear.

“Exactly.”

—

You currently had both of your hands covering your mouth as Jack was pounding into you when he promptly moved them and intertwined them with his as you felt him go even deeper.

“What are you covering that pretty little mouth for? I thought I told you that I wanted to hear you and you better let all of France know how good I’m making you feel.”

“Or do I need to fuck you on the railing again?” He asked and your thoughts immediately went to the time he did that in Miami at your beach house and you couldn't walk correctly for days.

You immediately shook your head no, but not being satisfied with that answer, Jack abruptly stopped and peered down at you.

“Mrs. Harlow, I asked you a question. And I suggest you answer it. I'm not above punishing you and I have all night.” 

“No.” 

“Hmm, then let me hear you.” He whispered in your ear as he began to move.

He was moving painfully slow in and out of you and he could tell that you were getting impatient.

“Baby, come on.”

“You didn't even want this at first and now you're begging me for it?”

All you did was roll your eyes as you then felt Jack's hand around your neck and he lightly squeezed.

“Who are you rolling your eyes at? That's it, get up and go near the balcony.”

“Wait, babe…”

“Get up or do I need to carry you?”

“Carry me of course. Why would I turn that down?”

Jack just shook his head and laughed to himself as he picked you up and you felt coolness on your back as you felt him place you up against the wall right next to where the balcony was.

Your arms were wrapped around his neck as you moved your face closer to kiss him and that was when you felt him enter you as you let out a gasp against his lips.

“Oh fuck.”

“Now that's what I like to hear. Tell me how good I'm making you feel.”

“Baby, go faster.” You whimpered as your head was now resting on his shoulder.

“As you wish.”

The two of you were going at it until the sun began to rise and that was when Jack finally decided to have mercy on you. Besides being on the wall right next to the balcony, you actually rode him in front of the balcony doors and knew that everyone on the street passing by was able to get a free show.

“Is it really 6 am?” You asked as Jack was now putting your hair up for you before wrapping your scarf around it.

“I was putting in work, but at least now you can sleep all day.” Jack said before placing several kisses on your lips.

“I wouldn't be surprised if we go back home and I'm pregnant.”

“If you aren't, we'll try again.”

“That wasn't an invitation, Jackman.”

“Well you made it sound like it was!” Jack replied to you as he laid down and opened his arms for you to lay on top of him.

You were slowly drifting off to sleep when you heard both of your phones go off and Jack reached over to the bedside table to grab his.

Urban- Will the two of you close the balcony door next time? Can't take your asses ANYWHERE 😒

 Taglist:

@a-moment-captured

@alinaharlow

@hoodharlow

@nattinatalia

@itsyagirljaz

@neon-lights-and-glitter

@harlowcomehome

[allwaswell16]

Happy Fan Fic Writer Appreciation Day 2021!

In honor of this day, here are the first lines of fics written by just some of my favorite One Direction fan fic writers! I have so many more favorites, but I had to stop somewhere. We are so incredibly lucky to continue to have such talented writers writing fic for our fandom, and I hope you all know how appreciated you are today and everyday! (You can find previous year’s lists and my other recs here.)

༺♥༻ Thank you writers! ༺♥༻

As someone who drunkenly belted out the entire Moana soundtrack on more than one occasion, Louis knew that Liam had a tendency to be a drama queen sometimes.

There was always beauty here; the glint of the metal, the smoothness of the movement, the red rivers of salvation that ran perfectly, vindicating and soothing. 

"Please, sit down."

He didn’t mean to slam the door behind them when they walked in the house.

It starts, as most of these things tend to, with him not paying attention.

When Louis got a job working at the gift shop in the Tellurian International Foundation Museum the summer before his senior year of high school, he didn’t think it’d lead to anything other than a small paycheck and free visits to the museum for his family.

My Dearest Omega, I hope this letter finds you well.

They call the largest room in the mansion The Danger Room without a shred of irony.

Louis is happy for his friends.

It’s laughable how this has become a habit. 

The first thing Harry notices after the funeral is the silence. 

The pouring rain splashed over Harry’s leather shoes as he rushed from his flat to the nearest Tube station, tightening the collar of his coat with his free hand as a gust of wind wrestled with his umbrella, rendering it useless.

Zayn is riding his bike, and he hates it. 

Louis doesn’t belong here.

It all started with a text. 

“What about him?” Nick tipped his nearly-empty gin cocktail in the direction of a muscled blond fellow looking at an oversized painting of a photorealistic cowboy on an a crudely drawn boat. 

Harry puts the last of the things he thinks he might need for the drive on the passenger’s seat of the car, and slams the door.

One foot was barely out the door when Louis groaned and spun on his heels back to grab his umbrella from where it rested in the bucket beside the door.

When Harry Styles went to culinary school in France, he had dreams of living like he was plopped down in the middle of Chocolat.

Liam hadn’t truly expected to find more than the thinnest thread of truth to the myriad rumors he’d heard over the past decade.

Mr. Clark wasn’t even looking when he selected a folder at random from the thick stack on his desk and handed it to Shawn.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut as he pushed his unfinished bowl of cereal away from him.

"How the fuck am I gonna make money if I can't work?" Louis demanded, pacing to and fro in front of his laptop, his sister's face filling the screen as they FaceTimed.

The moment he walks inside, Louis shoulders off his blue plaid jacket and pulls his hat off, shoving them both underneath his arm as he makes it over to the bar.

Harry watches from the living room window as the van from Burges’ Flowers stops at the kerb.

No matter the time of day or night or how kind the nurses are, for the past forty-eight hours, Louis has had a sense of dread each time he hears his hospital door creak open.

From the moment Greg had met the One Direction lads, he’d known they had something special.

My dearest acquaintance and friend Christopher, I hope this letter finds you well.

There are a few moments which Louis can confidently say have defined his life; running onto the field as a kid for his first footie match and feeling the pitch beneath his boots, his twelfth birthday when he got his first microscope, the first time he kissed a boy, finishing university, and publishing his first paper. 

Harry’s on his way to the restaurant, ignoring the voice in his head that’s telling him to call and cancel this date.

Thank you to all the wonderful writers in our fandom! Here are the writers represented in these lines:

@nauticalleeds @lightwoodsmagic @greenfeelings @taggiecb @magicalrocketships @kingsofeverything @sadaveniren @helloamhere @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed @bottomlinsons @mediawhorefics  @scrunchyharry  @quelsentiment  @crinkle-eyed-boo​ @disgruntledkittenface​​ @louandhazaf​​ @phd-mama​​ @jaerie​​ @becomeawendybird​​  @laynefaire​​ @a-brighter-yellow​​ @2tiedships2​​​  @reminiscingintherain​​  @gaycousinlarry​​  @fallinglikethis​​  @all-these-larrythings​​  @lululawrence​​  @londonfoginacup​​ @jacaranda-bloom​ @absoloutenonsense​

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Was Napoleon a tyrant? I don't necessarily think he was: at least, I believe he was a better alternative to the absolute monarchs he was fighting. But there are those who disagree. What are your thoughts on the subject?

This is a can of worms to be sure.

I mean....how are we defining the word tyrant? All monarchs are tyrants to someone. Monarchy, by its very nature, is tyrannical in one way, shape, or form, no matter who is at its head. Even in the more neutered forms we see now days with the British. The Queen still exerts a ridiculous amount of power, all things considered.

Napoleon was no better or worse than any other monarch in Europe at that time. Indeed, better than some, worse than others. Because you know, he was human!

-

This got VERY long. SO LONG. Choice excerpts from below the cut:

"'Power was encroaching with large strides behind the words order and stability,' as Thibaudeau put it."

"(And I suspect he was concerned about seeming too eager for power/setting up a monarchical system. Fouche: You're about as subtle as a canon going off right next door. Napoleon: Hush.)"

"Theeeeeen the little bastard (affectionate) became Emperor."

"Napoleon Vs. Jeff Bezos: fight! fight! fight! (I'm putting my money on Napoleon.)"

--

tl;dr: a more or less benevolent emperor who had his faults and who was intimately aware, for better or worse, more than most monarchs, that the head is only tenuously attached to the body. (Skim to the bottom for my thoughts on the personal things i.e. how I interpret Napoleon's actions and brain)

But, more seriously, as with most absolute statements, I am opposed to calling him a tyrant because it is reductive and serves no purpose except to make broad sweeping political statements that I believe are far more about the person making the statement exemplifying their modern political, republican position (as in, actual republican-I-support-the-existence-of-republics not the gop) rather than expressing any sort of truth about the past. (wHaT iS tRuTh.)

For historical purposes, it can over-simplify the situation and lead to skewed interpretations of events because you're coming in with this word that has a lot of modern, 20th and 21st century baggage to it.

And, because these people are coming in with this big, bad word of tyrant as a label for Napoleon, it doesn't allow them to engage with the nuance and complexities of his reign.

Anyway.

Napoleon, as emperor, supported centralized power held in his own hands, with support from other governing bodies (senate, council of state etc.). However, Napoleon had a lot of influence in the structuring of these governing bodies and the subsequent appointments as a means to exert control over entities that would otherwise be able to act somewhat independent from him and impinge his power.

We see this consolidation of power beginning, obviously, under the consulate. 'Power was encroaching with large strides behind the words order and stability,' as Thibaudeau put it.

There was the whole theatre around the Tribunate offering to extend Napoleon's tenure as First Consul for another ten years as a means of thanks/showing gratitude for all he did for France (Fouche was like: fuck that, let's just make a statue of the guy). Napoleon played the part of Humble Servant of the Public and refused both statue and the ten year extension. (Very Julius Caesar: You all did see that on the Lupercal, I thrice presented him a kingly crown, which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition?)

In actuality, though, he was pissed because he wanted it extended for life.

This resulted in the Council of State deciding "independently" (i.e. Napoleon wasn't present but he sure as hell influenced that Council session) to hold a plebiscite in order to ask The People two key questions: 'Should Napoleon Bonaparte be consul for life?' and 'Should he have the right to designate his successor?'

Napoleon nixed the second question saying to Cambaceres, 'The testament of Louis XIV was not respected, so why should mine be? A dead man has nothing to say.' Which is to say, he knew people would vote for him to be Consul for life, but the prospect of him choosing a successor, a la the Roman Empire, and having that choice be without input from the people and respected upon his death? Less clear.

(And, I suspect he was concerned about seeming too eager for power/setting up a monarchical system.

Fouche: You're about as subtle as a canon going off right next door.

Napoleon: Hush.)

For the Plebiscite, there were around 3.56 million votes for Yes to the question of Napoleon as consul for life and only around 8,300 for No.

The turnout rate was 60% which is uhh...impressive! (To be fair, there was no real evidence of tampering with the vote. Unlike in subsequent Plebiscites, such as the results for Do We Make Him Emperor, which were absolutely doctored. But, considering the highest turnout ever seen in the French Revolution was around 30/35%, double that is certainly something.)

Lafayette was pissed with this. He kicked up a fuss in the Senate and wrote to Napoleon saying that his 'restorative dictatorship' had been well and fine for now but has Napoleon thought about restoring liberty? and that he was certain Napoleon, of all people, wouldn't want an 'arbitrary regime' to be installed!

Napoleon: Bold of you to assume that, Lafayette.

There were, at this time, some mumblings and grumblings about tyranny from the liberals and those still wanting to continue the experiment of the French Republic, to be sure. They increased as time went on and Napoleon's power continued to consolidate.

Theeeeeen the little bastard (affectionate) became Emperor.

Lafayette: WhAt Is tHiS??

Napoleon: Look into my face and tell me honestly that you are shocked.

--

His government, as Consul and as Emperor, was centralized and very top-down in how it operated. Little was done without Napoleon's input.

The seemingly democratic institutions that had propped him up into power were retained and Napoleon used them as a means to facilitate his rule. As noted earlier, Napoleon had a heavy hand in appointments and the processes in place to fill various offices. Nothing was really...independent of him and his influence.

Though, in terms of Image Building of Empire, Napoleon worked hard to try and maintain the façade of impartiality as emperor. That he was head of state, sure, but all state apparatuses operated independent of him.

(Why is Napoleon's hat so big? because it is full of lies supporting the imperial image making machine.)

That said, when it came to filling those offices, Napoleon focused on merit more than anything as he wanted his governing officials to be capable, hardworking and, above all else, loyal.

(A good quote from Napoleon in one of his more Eat the Rich moments of the consulate: 'One cannot treat wealth as a title of nobility. A rich man is often a layabout without merit. A rich merchant is often only so by virtue of the art of selling expensively or stealing.'

Napoleon Vs. Jeff Bezos: fight! fight! fight!

(I'm putting my money on Napoleon.) )

--

This is getting really long and I feel that I've not addressed anything in a useful manner, but am I going to stop? No.

--

Napoleon, himself, at least in 1803, did express some conflicted views about assuming an imperial title. To Roederer he said, 'So many great things have been achieved over the past three years under the title of consul. It should be kept.'

Cambaceres said to Napoleon that upon assuming an imperial title 'your position changes and places you at odds with yourself.' No longer are you merely a public servant, an upholder of the Republic's ideals. Now you are a man wearing a crown, trying to be the upholder of the Republic's ideals.

(nb: I feel that duality is something Napoleon never fully got a handle on. He would veer strongly into authoritarian monarch then have moments of Rousseau-ian Idealism.)

Napoleon was insistent that his rule be a parliamentary monarchy (keeping the governance framework implemented in the Constitution of Year VIII, if I am not mistaken. But don't quote me on that.) and that the French were not his subjects but his people.

So, the imperial government worked thus with the Legislative process divided between four bodies:

Council of State which would draw up legislative proposals,

Tribunate which could debate on legislation but not vote on it,

a legislative body which could vote on legislation but not discuss it, and

Senate which would consider whether the proposed legislation conformed to the Constitution.

The Senate and the Legislative body could, theoretically, curtail Napoleon’s freedom/power. However, considering the fact that he was involved in the appointment process of these offices, and the general rhythm of daily governance, how much power they were able to exert over him was limited.

(This is at his height! Of course, towards the end we see a shift in that. But that's largely tied up in his military defeats and the British banging the door knocker demanding to be let in. Also they brought with them some friends. You might have heard of them? Bourbons?)

The initial terms the Senate brought to Napoleon with their offer of accepting him as a hereditary monarch included, but weren't limited to:

liberty cannot be infringed

equality cannot be jeopardized

sovereignty of the people must be maintained

the laws of the nation are inviolable

all institutions were to be free from undue imperial influence (e.g. the press)

the nation should never be put into a position where it needs to behead the head of state. Again.

Napoleon was uh. Not best pleased with this and had a new version drafted up that included acknowledgement of the sovereignty of the people, but a lot of the other things (e.g. freedom of the press) were cut out.

Yet, Napoleon maintained certain parts of the French Revolution's values which were reflected more in the 1804 Code Napoleon and other legislative and legal pieces than in the initial terms of Senatorial acceptance of his imperial title.

Some of the things enshrined in the Code that were carry-over from the Revolution include, but aren't limited to, the abolition of feudalism, equality before the law, freedom of conscience (to practice their own religion), gave fixed title to those who had bought church and émigré lands during the 1790s, and the equality of taxation was maintained (tax those aristos and the church). Also, there was affirmation of the idea of careers being "open to talent" rather than an accident of birth (as touched on above).

The Freedom of Conscience clause in the Code was a further formalization of several Articles Napoleon amended onto the Concordat in 1802. The Articles guaranteed the principle of religious toleration and made the Protestant and Jewish churches similarly subject to state authority (alongside the Catholic).

These are just a brief summary of some of the more liberal/revolution-informed aspects of Napoleon's governing.

The non-liberal ones I believe we're all pretty familiar with: suppression of the free press, roll-back of rights for women (women are for babies!), reinstatement of slavery (which he later reversed circa 1810/12-ish), top-down Emperor-has-final-word approach to ruling (Napoleon was all about Authority From Above, Trust From Below) etc. etc.

At the end of this, I would say Napoleon's empire falls into that "benevolent monarch" situation. For a given value of "benevolent." As stated at the start, he was like most other monarchs in Europe at the time. Better than some, not as great about certain things as others.

--

Really, it all ties back to Order and Stability.

Napoleon's assent, and his approach to strong, centralized ruling, was a result of uncertainty and constant government change over ten years of revolution alongside the growing belief, by 1803, that a republic like the Romans or Greeks was not going to happen any time soon. Not without constant warfare and the forever looming threat of a Bourbon restoration.

In addition, Napoleon was doing imperial drag. (If that makes sense.) He was dialing the notch of Emperor up to 11 - being the most emperor of all emperors. So, state control was absolute because he couldn't show any signs of weakness - either in his own body, his familial body, or the body of state. The court protocols were intense and over-the-top at times because he had to prove he was not just a second son of a parvenu lawyer from the sticks. No! he was worthy of this pomp. He was worthy of imperial majesty. He was worthy of the crown and scepter.

Napoleon was not raised to be anything other than a military officer and a middle-class head of a family (would have been a MASTER at doing Sunday Dad Puttering About the House). When he dawned the mantel of power, particularly that of empire, he had to make it up as he went along. For such a self-conscious and proud man, this was difficult. He never wanted to misstep and be embarrassed - on a personal level, political or military.

At the same time, he was reared on Rousseau and Revolution so still had those values and ideals imbedded in him, and those fears and memories. Napoleon knew as well as any Frenchman that a monarch's head is easily removable should it become necessary. Therefore, he sometimes ran roughshod over the liberty to ensure security. For better or worse, that was the choice he made.

--

Napoleon was a flawed leader with a complex approach to governing that was focused on a centralization of power within him while, at the same time, trying to be the Successor of the Revolution, the Roman Republic and the Roman Empire. Layers! Like an onion.

His approach as emperor really was within the realm of normal-for-the-times when compared to most other monarchs on the European stage in 1800. He also granted liberties to his people that were unheard of in other countries.

I feel like all my Napoleonic ramblings end with the same message: Dude was nuanced. Dude was complex. Dude did good things and bad things. Dude helped people and hurt people. Dude contained multitudes. Because he was simply human, at the end of the day.

--

ANNNNNNND we are done.

Gods bless all y'all who made it this far.

Have my favourite picture of Napoleon at Tuileries as a prize.

hmm that beautiful heavy, handed symbolism.

[grilledcheeseandguavajelly]

What do you think of ahs 10???????

OMG SOMEONE ASKED ME!!! I don’t know why, but I didn’t think many people were watching 🙈 Admittedly, I’ve only seen the first two episodes. But here are some non-coherent, pseudo-spoiler-free thoughts so far:

Lily Rabe can GET IT 👏🏼👏🏼 I mean honest to god, she is a QUEEN among men and we do NOT deserve her

I really like this season?? Maybe that’s an unpopular opinion, but the whole ~vibe~ is really doing it for me

Honestly I almost cried watching the opening credits 🙈 @welshdragonrawr can attest to this— I was just so excited to see all of these familiar names, especially knowing the kind of quality work they all do. It felt like coming home

Every time they do the little montages with the metronome running in the background I have two thoughts: 1. ALDJAJHSHAHSJSJAGDDJKFLG GENIUS, and 2. PUT THE FUCKING METRONOME TO THE TEMPO OF THE VIOLIN FOR FUCK’S SAKE. I mean honestly. Maybe it’s intentional and it’s supposed to drive me crazy. But I twitch every single time because this child wants to be chair violin and can’t play to a fucking metronome? Come on

Okay, full disclosure… I was prepared to not like TB Karen. I had emotionally prepared myself that this would be the one season that I didn’t like Paulson’s character, and that was okay (spoiler alert, it wasn’t okay). I don’t know what it was, but I just wasn’t super impressed with her character in any of the trailers? And then I started watching, and her first few scenes were… I don’t know, I hate to say they seemed “over-acted”, but… I just wasn’t jiving with her character 🙈 I felt like it was a bit of a Sally knock-off, and I felt like that was unfair because Sally/Marcia, Karen/Linda… I don’t know, I just felt kind of meh about it and like we had been cheated. BUT THEN I KEPT WATCHING AND OOOOF THAT MOMENT— you know the moment, the one that is Paulson’s signature, where she’s so composed, and then her voice cracks, and then her face just shatters and she breaks down. Yeah, THAT moment. And then my body went FULL protection mode and while maybe I think the coughing is a little bit too exaggerated, I will still protect TB Karen until the DAY I DIE (and don’t even get me STARTED on what happened in episode 2 because I was ACTUALLY crying)

On that note, I’m not sure how I feel about Macaulay Culkin yet. I just know that at some point in episode one my childhood was ruined, and yeah. Yep. Yeah.

Evan Peters is great. And so is Frances Conroy. And I love Dolly Parton. The end.

The “monsters” in this season are actually really freaking me out?? Shhh, don’t tell Ryan

I needed a trigger warning for that raw meat scene. Maybe it’s just me and my own phobias, but I couldn’t watch. I just… *shudders*

In conclusion, I really like it so far. I’m interested to see what they do with part two (read as: I’m worried because I feel like I can’t trust Ryan after Horror Stories), and to see how they wrap everything up with Red Tide. But! I know that whatever happens with the script and the plot and the everything, at least the actors will do a good job with what they’re given. And it’s still fun watching, because this is my first season I’m watching live!! All in all, it’s just nice to be back. It’s nice to have this cast again. It’s good to be home.

[black-streak]

Little Pistol - The Investigation

Chapter 14

First Previous Next

I'm really trying to continue this, I promise. I know the updates are rare and spaced, but I promise this isn't being abandoned. Please let me know of any changed usernames so I can update the taglist, assuming you still want to be tagged. Song by Sugarcult.

Highly recommend listening to the song, it's so fitting for the inner turmoil here.

Permanent list

@naoryllis @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @my-name-is-michell @maribat-is-lifeblood @dast218 @novicevoice @shizukiryuu @princess-of-fangirls @bigpicklebananatree @pirats-pizzacanninibles @abrx2002 @breemeister @darkthunder1589 @thestressmademedoit @severelyenchantedwonderland @isabellemasen @multi-fandom-freak0221 @fantasyloversblog @bzz75 @cloudiedraws @orbitsvt @gingerdaile @sotheresthatthought @kadmeread @novaloptr @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @crazylittlemunchkin @18-fandoms-unite-08 @tiny-goddess-of-chaos @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @the-alice-of-hearts @vixen-uchiha @changelinggarden @unrepentantgeek

LP Taglist

@zalladane @moonlightstar64 @amayakans @elmokingkong @queen-in-a-flower-crown @karategirl119 @dreamykitty25 @danielslilangel @melicmusicmagic @xahriia @sassakitty @yin-390 @zotinha456 @indecisive-mess-named-me @heldtogetherbysafetypins @theatreandcomicfreak @alexandriamw @messymessyml

~---~

Jason's hesitance in the doorway was noticeable as Tim led the silent lady into the living room of their safehouse in the Coventry. This particular location chosen for its proximity not only to their base of operations, but the rooftop he'd originally pinned their guest to. Their guest truly was silent too, not only from lack of speaking, but the movement of her clothing, her steps, her shifting weight all completely muted into nothingness. Had he not felt her solid wrist within his grip, Tim could easily pass her off as a ghost. Even still, the life form trailing him felt haunting. A sense of foreboding laying like a thick blanket over the room.

Coming to a stop in front of an armchair, he pressed down on her shoulder, watching as she complied, body lowering into the chair while maintaining perfect eye contact. The whisper of what wanted to be a smile stayed on her lips as she settled, as though they were old friends meeting over afternoon tea. It put him on edge. 

She shouldn't feel so comfortable with both of them closed in on her, anonymity on the verge of collapse as they scrutinized her every move. 

Tim waved Jason off as the other reached for a set of ropes.

"Don't bother, she can escape them."

He seemed to mull the words over before narrowing them down to their based meaning, "You're saying she chose to be captured."

"Yes."

Their guest's eyes flashed in mild amusement before settling back into the blank void of almost smiling. It was creepy, like a porcelain doll come to life for a flicker of a second only to make you second guess if it ever happened at all the next. 

"Why isn't she talking? She seemed to have plenty to say before," Jason squinted at her, keeping a reasonable distance, one hand hovering over his left holster.

Tim shook his head, "She responded to one question, then ignored the rest."

"Huh. So like a puzzle then."

"What." Tim deadpanned.

"No no, hear me out," Jason waved his hands about, seemingly catching the lady's attention as she followed the motion, "she answered one question, right?"

"Yes?" He folded his arms, waiting to see where Jay was going with this.

"So it's not that she won't respond to anything. Only to things she decides are worth answering. Whether that means things she sees as important or just too noteworthy to pass up, I'm not sure, but she seemed pretty quick to jump on Bat-wannabe and demon spawn's case, so I'm hedging towards the latter here."

A startled giggle makes both men snap their head towards the cause.

"Demon Spawn," she mumbles, earning a grin from Jason and an eye roll from Tim. Jason was just grateful he'd forgone the helmet tonight so she could see the positive reaction.

"Definitely the latter then," Tim sighed, reaching to rub his eyes, only to drop his hand back down at the reminder of the mask pressed to his fingers.

"Easy peasy then," Jason sat on a crate normally used as a makeshift table in the barren apartment, unbothered by the way it made his knees knock into the lady's.

"Sure. Easy."

"Yeah, all we gotta do is intrigue her enough to want to talk to us. And that can't be too difficult, otherwise she wouldn'ta bothered talking to begin with, isn't that right, sweetheart?" He leaned towards her with a friendly smile. One that wasn't returned.

"Yeah, seems to be working wonders," Tim mocked.

"Just give me a sec, I haven't even tried," he waved Tim off, focusing on the figure before him, "so, you seem pretty calm considering the circumstances. That got more to do with your confidence in your abilities to escape or more an interest in being captured?"

Silence.

"Were you hoping we'd use the ropes? I could bring them back if you're into that kind of thing."

More silence.

"What's got you tongue tied anyhow? See something you like?"

Dead silence only this one came with a delicately raised eyebrow and a glance in Tim's direction, as if to say, 'He always this cocksure?'

Jason lept on the action even still.

"Oh, he got your interest back there? I guess that makes sense since you talked to him first. That reminds me, how'd you react so fast when that lowlife got that lucky swipe in, anyhow? Unless you were already there?"

Her eyes slowly drifted back over to him at the lack of speech from the other, not reacting even to the callout.

"Feel free to dazzle us at any time," Tim called over.

Her lips twitched up.

"Oh, I see. Only willing to interact with little red then?"

A head tilt.

"What about demon spawn? Anything to say about him? Or what about big brother pretender?"

Her eyes snapped up to his, narrowed and... calculating?

"Think I struck a chord?" He turned towards Tim who only shrugged only to be wrenched back to focus as a tiny hand gripped his arm tightly, the previously complacent figure now tilted forward and staring him down with a hard look, flickering over his face as though the mask wasn't even there. Before he could even twist her arm away, she murmured out, "You're the second Robin, aren't you?"

Oh. Maybe calling Dick their big brother even jokingly was a mistake. Oh well, too late now,  and what did it really matter if she knew? Not as though it connected back to his civilian form.

"Yeah. You figured that out pretty quickly."

"Faked your death? To get away?" She asked, voice gruff and heavily accented.

"Died and brought back. Weird magic shit. Almost lost a bit of me on the way back."

"Should you be telling her that?" Tim bit out.

"What's it matter if I do? What's she going to do with that? She's not even from this country. Besides, you want her to trust us enough to talk, might as well instill a little trust in return, ya know? Not like we're interrogating her, otherwise you woulda taken over by now," Jason eased Tim again, his own words sparking his own thoughts back into motion, "Which reminds me, you travel here the normal way? Cause it'll be pretty easy to look up young women who've traveled here from France."

"Weird magic shit," was the deadened response.

"Touché."

"Why's your voice so hoarse?" Tim asked, finally moving forward to rejoin the conversation fully, only to watch her rub her throat.

"Not much of a talker?" Tim continued, meeting her eyes, "how long since you held a full conversation with someone then? Days? Weeks? Months?" Her eyes flickered, "Months then? Why? Why not talk? Why talk to us now?"

Her entire figure seemed to droop, caving into itself and finally she responded to him directly, "I'm alone."

While Jason seemed confused, it's like she struck something deep within Tim. Something that understood. That wanted to reach out and contradict her just so they could both be wrong.

And right as he reached out to do just that, the seat beneath her opened up in a pool of black ink that dragged her under only to close back up, leaving his hand outstretched towards an empty chair.

"Fuck, now I'm even more confused," Jason groused, standing up and kicking away the crate as he went.

"Yeah…"

[purvishraick]

A TALE OF ALWAYS AND FOREVER

CHAPTER 7

Fanfiction : Bloodbound (Choices)

Pairing : Adrian Raines x Amy Richard Parker (MC)

Warning : none

Rating: Teen

TAG LIST : @otherworldlypresents ​  , @evelynistic ​   , @silma-words ​ , @fireycookie , @lauren-raines-x , @nala-raines

If anyone wanna be tagged in future do let me know….

read previous chapter here ….. Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6

So here i promised this last night but sorry it got delayed ...got stuck in some important work .... now here i am .... i hope u like it

Amy had to forcefully cut the call, in order to shut her brother and she new that this will make him angry. But she didn’t need a pep talk for not getting wasted in the club before her interview. She could handle her brother afterwards and the interview was important. She wandered here and there and settled on the bench. She felt like she is being watched from behind but didn’t find someone. Just then a stunning woman with an icy demeanor came towards her.

“Amy?” stern woman said .

“ yes that’s me “ she replied .

“I am Nicole Anderson, VP of operations at Raines Corp. I will interview you . “ she said .

Amy was surprised to see that she was going to be interviewed by someone so high at post but her queries were eased when she reminded her that they take their hiring process very seriously and she followed her in the conference room keeping her confident look .

“ now then. The Raines Corporation is a global leader in technology and innovation . Why exactly are you interested in being the executive assistant to our CEO ? “

“well…” Amy took a deep breath and continued , “ I’d love to help make the world a better place . what I admire most about the Raines Corporation is your dedication to global innovation and improvement. The clean – water initiative …the vaccine for the cerella virus …the green energy project… you guys aren’t just getting rich. You’re trying to help people, to make technology that’ll save the planet. I can’t think of anything better than being a part of that.”

“hmm……a good answer. A bit cloying , perhaps, but Adrian might actually like that “ Nicole said with an appreciative look.

Just as she was going to speak the next thing , the door at the back of the room swings open , and a handsome man in a perfectly – tailored suit strolls in.

Intelligence sparks through his eyes . He was extremely charming , with his black obsidian eyes assessing her , her already killer nervousness now peaked a whole new level.

“ Adrian I wasn’t expecting you…” Nicole asked unable to hide the surprise in her voice .

Adrian as in Adrian Raines …well all escalated very quickly for her .

“ I had a free minute. Is this the candidate ?” he asked taking the authority in his hands as he decided.

Professionalism and seriousness reflected in his voice .

“ yes …but I’ve just started the interview and—“ Nicole asked stammering .

“ I’ll take over from here “ he cut her off not wanting to take any excuses .

“……of course sir , go right ahead “ she surrendered .

Adrian sat across Amy , eyes burning right through her . He has never seen such a beautiful person in his entire existence , god knows how would she be as a person .

Amy’s nervousness grew even more when his eyes bore through her but she remembered once more , she is Amy Richard Parker and nothing in this world ever scares her , she remembered her brothers’ advices on professionality and confidence and recalled her dad’s proud thought about her and her mother’s loving smile . Now that was enough to calm her down , so she put on the brave and fearless smile again on her face and straightened her back.

“ Amy , is it ? “ Adrian looked at her and saw her hazel brown eyes which her so hypnotizing , with all his strength he prevented himself from being lost in them .

“ that’s right “ she said interrupting his thoughts .

“ tell me Amy , what do you desire ? “ he asked her and she was surprised at the question .

Amy was already so mesmerized from him that this question surprised her.

“ You mean ……why do I want this job ? Because I – “ but was interrupted by Adrian .

“ I didn’t ask why you want this job. I asked what do you desire . “ he asked seriously and professionally.

“ I desire ……PASSION “ she answered after thinking fir a while .

“ oh , really ? “ he asked , his brows raising , he was in true sense intrigued by her answer .

“Sorry , if that is too personal but I am just being honest . I want to feel deeply. I want to experience life , live every moment like my last. We never know when is our last moment , it is better to live our life to the fullest than to regret it afterwards . That’s what I desire “ she answered honestly and it was the true answer she saw what happened to her family everything was good and happy then suddenly they lost everything , she do not want to regret anything .

“ I can relate“ Adrian was impressed internally but didn’t expressed it. He supressed a smile to reach his face. He was truly impressed by her desire to live and feel and experience. He now looked at her resume .

“ lets see here … graduated college 3 years ago …masters in communication …interned at Mannon financial…volunteered in San Torbida and France abroad for a year “ he read out and again was impressed from her but wondered why it took her an extra year to sign up for this interview or for that matter any other one .

“ yep that’s right “ she said .

“ well , how was that tell me in three words “ he asked .

“ difficult. Enlighting. Rewarding. “ she replied easily .

“ good , this job can be challenging and unpredictable , are you comfortable running unusual errands ?”

“Absolutely “

I have been doing them since a long time now , she thought to herself , smiling .

“ Handling confidential information ? “

“ I can keep a secret “

You wont even realise how many I am keeping right now too , she thought again and smirked .

“ Working nights ? “

“ Always been a night owl “

Okay , I atleast told him one thing fully without strings attached , she smiled while thinking .

“ Good , Anything else I should know about you ? “

“ Hmmmm …… I have got WORLD CLASS people skills “ , she said with a proud smile .

“ Oh , really ? “ he asked with questioning eyes .

“ I was voted ‘ most likable ‘ in my high school class . Also ‘ most popular ‘ and ‘ best smile ‘ . Technichally you are not supposed to win in multiple categories , but I was able to persuade them . And also the cherry on the top I was the PROM QUEEN “ , she stated out all of her achievements proudly and remembered how happy and proud her father was to see her that day . She and her brothers has always been the brightest in the whole family , anyways. Suddenly feeling nostalgic and tears building in her eyes she averted her gaze on the floor.

“ Thus proving your point “ said a grinning and impressed Adrian , but he saw a glint of sadness in her eyes and he doubted that he saw tears too , and was unable to understand why counting her proud moments made her sad .

“ exactly” Amy said after controlling her emotions and forcing a smile.

“ one more question “ Adrian leaned forward hands folded on the table and with an intense expression , told her the story of a man who got a genie lamp and destroyed everything , and then finally asked her about what should his final wish should be .

“I think his final wish should be to undo his first two wishes “ she said after thinking for a while .

“because ?” Adrian asked curious to know her theory .

“ because he already had everything he could ask for a family and many friends …what could he ask for more it was more than enough …all he wanted or ever needed was right there in front of him …this is a story of temptation and greed …he should have never played this game …all now he can do is making things as they were before “

Her answer was something totally honest … Adrian glanced at her and then noticed how true each and every word was . she was not only beautiful but also quite intelligent …in true sense beauty with brains.

She was quite interesting too …Adrian personally never saw such a person in his entire life … and he needed to know her …he knew that it is a huge risk and a mistake but he already did that when he decided to interview her himself …now he couldn’t resist her … so then he does the only thing he could do …he knew that Nicole will be a big trouble after this but guess he was okay with that if it was what would keep this girl around .

Then he grins brightly at Amy and says

“ You’re hired “

“wait what ? ��seriously “ Amy asked with wide eyes , she was surprised , how in world is it possible that someone gets hired so fast …this was weird to her … but of course she was happy .

Adrian left an inside giggle watching her surprised reaction …she looked adorable with those wide eyes …his smile grew even wider … and he extends his hand …which obviously she took .

‘ oh my god …his skin is impossibly smooth…and hold so firm …wow he is really handso-……no no no …stop brain stop thinking …no eyes …don’t look in his eyes for too long … fuck …, I am a disaster …stop cheeks don’t turn red …god please ‘ she thought .

Good god if god wanted to kill her please kill her in this exact moment …someone save her from this embarrassment …she was a disaster with wide eyes blushing cheeks …FUCK.

Adrian saw her flustered reaction which was by far the cutest thing he saw in his life … his vampire senses made her blushing cheeks clearly visible …the dark pink tint on her cheek made her impossibly adorable.

“welcome to Raines Corporation “ , he said with a bright smile

They made eye contact for just moment but everything stood still for that particular moment …it was mesmerising .

In that moment Adrian didn’t knew about Amy but he knew that they were going to go a long way .

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@choicesficwriterscreations

[inky-duchess]

History Bites: Bad Ass Moments (Women)

In History Bites, I pick the best moments of history and the antics historical figures in order to give you inspiration for your WIP. Think of History Bites like prompts, only juicer and 90% accurate (results may vary).

Today, we will discuss the bad ass moments of history (women). This post may have a part two. Let's get to it.

Arsinoë IV was the younger sister of Cleopatra. During the civil war between her elder sister and brother who were meant to be jointly ruling, Caesar besieged Alexandria on behalf of Cleopatra, taking the royal family hostage within the palace. In the confusion after the Library of Alexandria was accidentally burned down (I mean Caesar, I love you but you're fucking dick for burning the library), Arsinoë escaped the palace and took command of the Egyptian army. Under her control, the army enjoyed success even trapping Caesar as he tried to take the Lighthouse of Alexandria. This was an important symbol to the city as well as a masterful weapon, whoever controlled the Lighthouse controlled the harbour. To escape, Caesar had to swim across the bay throwing off his great purple cloak and fine armour, holding up his important papers as he limped back to dry land, defeated by a 15-18 year old girl.

Katherine of Aragon handed Scotland its biggest defeat in history. She led troops at Flodden, winning a battle where the Scottish King died. When she wrote to Henry as well as sending him the Scottish king's coat and banners, she mentioned that she had wanted to send the body of the king but the nobles were being pussies and said no. It may have been the shadiest letter of all the Tudor period.

Artemisia Gentileschi was one of art and history's all time bad asses. She was a skilled painter at a time when women were not permitted to attend art schools. She surpassed her father's own works and some of his other students. At 18, she was raped by another artist. In a time far behind today's understanding of rape and justice, Artemisia took a great risk in publicly accusing her rapist. She underwent numerous tortures so the judges could be sure she was telling the truth. The rapist was convicted (a major win). Artemisia went on to become one of the Baroque period's most powerful painters.

Marguerite de Bressieux was a 15th century noblewoman in France. When her father's castle fell to the armies of the Prince of Orange, Marguerite and the other women of the castle were all sexually assaulted. As the French army passed through the devastated lands, they came by a group of twelve knights armoured and mounted, bearing a black banner with an orange pierced by a spear. The commander revealed their face... it was Marguerite. She asked to join the French King's forces and he allowed her though he was quite taken aback. At the Battle of Autun, each of the female knights and Marguerite hunted down the Prince of Orange's men, unmasking their faces before they killed their rapists so they would know just had come.

Harriet Tubman was an American slave who ran the Underground Railway, ferrying slaves off to freedom. After escaping herself, Harriet refused to leave others behind. Known as Moses, Harriet risked life and limb to free slaves from the plantations. During the Civil War, she worked for the Union first as a cook then as scout and spy. Over her life, Tubman released over 300 slaves.

Countess Constance Markievicz was the first woman to be elected to a British Parliament ... while imprisoned for her art in the numerous acts of rebellion in the last years of English rule. Markievicz was one of the figureheads for Irish freedom, even acting as a sniper during the 1916 Easter Rising. When the rising was over, she was imprisoned but not executed (being a woman and a high status woman) which made her angry. She believed that the fight for Irish freedom was not just a male one. Her advice to women and girls of the time was "Dress suitably in short skirts and strong boots, leave your jewels in the bank, and buy a revolver"

Grace/Grainne O'Malley, the Pirate Queen of Ireland was one of the Lords of the West of Ireland. On her father's death, she inherited his lands and fleets as his heir, turning her into one of the most powerful lords of the west. She fought in the Nine Years War, becoming a thorn in the side of the "Governor" Richard Bingham. When her sons and half brother were captured and threatened, Grainne turned her sails to London to speak with Elizabeth I. Grainne did not bow to Elizabeth and began hammering out the terms of a peace. Bingham was fired, her sons and brother were released on the terms that Grainne would stop supporting Gaelic uprisings. Grainne didn't.

Jeanne de Clisson or the Lioness of Brittany, was a 14th century noblewoman. Her husband was imprisoned by the French King who suspected him of being a spy who had lost a battle on purpose. He was executed. Jeanne went immediately to the fort her husband had commanded. The garrison let her in. Jeanne's army took the fort. By the time the French King heard, Jeanne was gone. After a treacherous crossing over the Channel where she lost at least one child, Jeanne resurfaced in England. The English king granted her three ships which she used to wage war on France in revenge.

Ching Shih was a Chinese pirate queen, formerly a prostitute. When her husband died, she took over his fleet of ships. Ching Shih went about on tightening the reigns on her sailors. They could not rape captives, if they did they were beheaded. If they wanted to have one of the women, a sailor had to marry her and treat her right. To disobey a superior twice was death. As she got the fleet into shipshape, Ching Shih began her reign of the seas amassing millions. The government fought her a few times but soon gave up their war, paying Ching Shih to go away. She retired as a respected millionaire.

Osh-Tisch or "Finds Them and Kills Them” was a Native American warrior. She had been born male but chose to live as a woman also known as a baté, a person which two souls in their body. Osh-Tisch took up arms along with the other batés when her tribe went to war with the Lakota, winning the war. As missionaries came to to stick their noses in where they weren't wanted, Osh-Tisch and the other batés were subject to horrific abuse. Batés were forced to dress and act as their assigned gender by the dickheaded missionaries. Osh-Tisch disregarded the missionaries and continued to work with batés across America in order to support one another.

Harriet Tubman escaped from slavery in the years preceding the Civil War. Harriet refused to leave others behind and returned about nineteen times to volatile south to rescue slaves, under the name Moses. During the war, Harriet served as cook, nurse and spy for the Union. Harriet saved over 300 slaves.

Matilda, Lady of the English once escaped a besieged castle. How did she do this? She walked out of the gates and left. She was wearing a white cloak which camouflaged her against the snow. She walked eight miles in the snow to continue her fight for the crown.

Cleopatra VII (that Cleopatra) was once summoned to Tarsos go meet the new Governor of the Eastern Provinces of the Roman Empire, Mark Antony who wanted to borrow some money. They negotiated back and forth on who should come to who. Cleopatra refused to go... but then showed up in Tarsos on luxurious barge. While feasting with Antony at his expense, Cleopatra claimed that she could host the more expensive meal. She dropped a pearl earring into her wine, where it dissolved and downed it like a queen.

Caterina Sforza was an Italian noble woman in the Renaissance period and you could literally not find a bigger bad ass. She rode at the head of an army to occupy the great fortress of the Castel San Angelo in the name of her husband, while being seven months pregnant. At the siege of Ravaldino, Caterina and her children were prisoners of the treacherous Orsis family who had killed her husband. Caterina persuaded the commanders to let her enter the city to negotiate the surrender of the castle. One inside, she climbed the battles and cussed out the besiegers. Utterly stunned, one commander threatened to kill her children but Caterina lifted her skirts and flashed them, claiming she could make more. OK, that may be a rumour. She may have touched her belly or claimed to be already pregnant but still it was a moment. It ended up buying her enough time for more forces to come and beat the army outside.

Catherine the Great born a minor German Princess overthrew her husband Peter III in a successful military coup. A few days before the original coup was going to commence, a co-conspirator let slip to another guard that it was happening. The man was arrested. When the news got to her, Catherine left the palace via carriage commandeering horses along the way. She went to the barracks of the Ismailovsky regiment dressed in burrowed military uniform and made an impassioned plea to the soldiers to earn their support which they gave her. She was crowned sole ruler of Russia and forced her husband to sign his crown away.

Khutulun, the great-grandaughter of Genghis Khan was badass from the beginning. She was the only girl in a family of boys and grew up to be the fiercest. Khutulun was a highly sought after bride. She didn't hate men but felt she shouldn't be married to somebody unequal to her. Every man who sought to wed her had to wrestle her or pay ten horses. She had ten thousand horses by the time she died.

Boudicca was the Queen of the Iceni, a Celtic tribe in England. Her husband, an ally of the Romans, left half his kingdom to Rome and the other half to his daughters. When he died, Rome took it all. When Boudicca spoke out against it, she was flogged and her daughters were raped. Boudicca decided that it was time for the Romans to fuck off and die. Raising a massive host, Boudicca burned three major Roman settlements down Londinium (London), Verulamium (St. Albans) and Camulodunum (Colchester). She was the greatest threat the Rome since...

Amanirenas, Queen of Kush was an African Queen who fought the Romans. Kush lay south to the new conquered Egypt, which meant it was next on Rome's agenda. Kush moved first. Though one-eyed, she was an able warrior who survived at least a dozen battles. Though the Romans burned the capital and took slaves, Amanirenas still fought on bringing Rome to its knees. Rome and Kush signed a peace treaty, preventing Rome from crossing the border ever again. Amanirenas's badass moment came thousands of years after when archeologists were digging up the tombs. Found under her the foot of statue, was the head of the Emperor Augustus.

[bl597]

Hey!! Could you do a headcannon for Remus with fem!reader from France but she’s not the typical soft French girl and more of a rebel? Your writing is amazing and I’ve never seen someone do that before!💕💕

hello, darling! of course I can! thank you so much, it means the world to me to read things like this!! hope you enjoy it, feel free to send more requests! 💞💞

warnings: another request for our sweet boy Remmy, fluff, sirius being a drama queen, there are like two phrases in French and I used Google translator to translate it, so I'm sorry if it's wrong! also english is not my first language, so I'm really sorry for any mistakes!

my masterlist ♡

you had lived your whole life in France and studied in Académie de Magie Beauxbatons ever since you were eleven, as you were a witch

your parents were purebloods and always expected you to be the typical French perfect girl

petite, fragile, polite and fanatic for the pureblood supremacy

well, let's say you gladly were nothing like that

you didn't care about people's blood statuses, you just wanted to live your own life

your parents were really happy when you received a scholarship to attend Hogwarts

you were happy too, of course

it meant your family wasn't around and you didn't need to worry about pretending to be someone you weren't

you could finally be yourself

you went to Hogwarts in the beginning of your fourth year and was sorted in (y/h)

you made a few friends quite fast, only one, but it was a progress; Lily Evans

you first met the redhead girl in potions, when Slughorn was teaching how to brew a new potion and you didn't quite understand the instructions very well

“excuse me” you said, tapping her shoulder “could you help me with this? It's really 'ard for me.” you continued, your heavy french accent making itself present

she smiled at you politely and nodded before starting to explain the potion to you

you started talking and knowing more about each other

you became friends :D

after a few days she introduced you to her friends - the “marauders”

at first, Remus and Sirius didn't really like you because they thought you were like your family

but after spending some time with you, they realised that you were nothing like them

ok you started hanging out with them even more because they were actually nice to you now

as Sirius also speaks French, you two would sometimes spend hours just speaking in French

during one of this conversations, you accidentally told him you had a crush on a certain brown haired gryffindor werewolf

he would then tease you whenever Remus and you were in the same place

“tu rougis, (Y/n)” (you are blushing, y/n) he said next to your ear, teasing you when Remus sat close to you

“tais-toi, Black” (shut up, Black) you would reply, punching him softly and giggling

Remus would be a little sad because he thought Sirius and you were flirting

so he would be a little quieter than usual

you obviously noticed it and got a little sad too

Sirius noticed (everybody but you two did, actually) so he started making a plan

he was tired of hearing Remus talking about the beautiful french girl and how beautiful her smile is and how soft her hair is

he was sick of it

so after detention, he went straight to where you and Remus were

you two looked at him confused, waiting for him to continue talking

“I'm tired of you two!” he exclaimed

“pardon?” you said, confusedly

“you!” he said, pointing at you “I'm tired of hearing you chattering about Remus and his stupid hot scars all day in French!”

you blushed, opening your mouth to argue but he started talking again

“and you!” he pointed at Remus this time “if think her lips are so kissable, then why in the hell don't you just kiss them?!”

“what the-” Remus tried to speak, but Sirius cut him off

“for fuck's sake, just date already, I'm begging!” and then he just left the room, leaving you two alone, red painting your faces

you just sat there for a few minutes, not daring to look at each other

“little shit” you mumbled, cheeks still dark red

“I'm sorry for that, (Y/n)” Remus rushed to say, quickly getting up “just ignore him, he's an idiot, you see”

“I'm free on Saturday” you said quietly and he looked at you, a little taken aback

“excuse me?” he stopped doing whatever he was doing

“Saturday, Hogsmeade trip. You and I, what do you think?” you asked, all your confidence suddenly disappeared

he didn't say anything for a few seconds, and you started regretting saying that

when you opened your mouth to start apologizing, he blinked and smiled brightly

“I would love to” he shyly answered

Sirius was overhearing everything, silently celebrating that the two dumbasses finally got together

when you two came back from your date, Sirius made you two sit down and tell him how it was

you both were blushing like madmen

he would be really excited to see his besties were together

Remus would cough and excuse you two, carefully pulling you by your hand and leaving Sirius there

he would tell something like “oooh they're going to make out”

and you guys were like Sirius what the hell

in fact you were going to make out, but he didn't need to know it, right? ;)

when your parents found out about your relationship with the cute werewolf they sent you a howler

you sent a letter telling them to fuck off oops :)

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 87

Emma

Slow dancing and kissing in the middle of the floor had been as perfect of goodbye as a goodbye could be. Sebastian had updated his playlists. There was nothing sexual. Every song was I love you, I've been waiting for you, I'm happy you're mine. Intense love songs. I felt every one. I stayed in the moment, focusing on how good this felt. We held each other, swaying to the music and alternating between my head laying on his shoulder, gazing in the other's eyes, or kissing. We were in our own little bubble. There was nothing but how his body felt against mine, how he smelled, and the look of his face. All I felt was encapsulated in a swirl of feelings. Love, joy, and a touch of sadness hiding on the edge.

The bubble burst with the knock on the door. Time to go. there was no chance of getting through this without tears. Strong emotions always bring tears. I don't fight them. Letting them out feels better. I don't think emotions are anything to be ashamed of or hide. They're also not something to manipulate others with.

At the car, we were both crying. Not holding onto each other sobbing, just tears.

Saying goodbye was hard. His "I love you. I'll miss you. I'll talk to you Later. Send nudes." broke the sadness enough to get the car door closed. I watched him slide away. I wiped away a few more tears before talking myself down. Six weeks was a long fucking time, but it wasn't forever. It would probably feel like it, however.

My solution was to avail myself of the Air France business class lounge. Two shots of tequila and I switched to wine. It went better with the cheese. I was going to have to hit the gym hard when I got home. And eat better. Not today though I was sad and there was free cheese.

As usual, I was asleep before we reached cruising altitude. I woke up with about five hours to go. Fingers crossed that helped with the jet lag. I put on my favorites playlist and read until we landed.

Emma ~ I’ve landed Sebastian ~ Yay! Emma ~ Go back to sleep. Sebastian ~ XOXO

I knew he had an early call time tomorrow. It was only five pm here in New York. Closer to seven by the time I got back to Sebastian's place. I made it long enough to throw a load of laundry into the washer and the cheese into the fridge before crawling into bed. I took over his side of the bed, sniffing the pillows to find the one that smelled most like him. I curled around it and was out.

Five am was the latest my body was going to let me sleep. That was eleven am in France. So too early for New York and kinda late for France. I grabbed my phone to take a sleepy selfie but was distracted by my text notification. Sebastian had sent me a picture of him reclining on a couch, not in our rooms, with Guiletta asleep on his chest.

Sebastian ~ Found someone new to sleep on my chest.

I continued with my original plan to take an up-close picture of my eyes peeking out over the top of his pillow. My hair was a mess, my eyes look half-asleep, and there was a faint pillow crease on my temple. Perfect.

Emma ~ I miss you too

The sun was up with a bright blue sky. Since it was Saturday the traffic at this time of day would be much less. I had a clean pair of shorts, but not a shirt. No problem. My boyfriend had t-shirts. A little big, but perfectly functional. Runners, earphones, keys and I was out the door for an early morning run.

The city was beautiful. sunlight crept around corners and over the tops of shorter buildings. I ran south past the 9-11 memorial to Battery Park. I'd always been fascinated by the metal world with tears and chunks missing. The first time I'd seen I'd said out loud, "It looks like the world blew up." I guess I wasn't far off. The sculpture had been in the World Trade Center Plaza and been damaged by falling debris. I was only eight and all I remember was my parents being glued to CNN for hours. It would be years later, when I called the city home, before I really understood. As much as a non-native New Yorker could.

The worst thing about running this early was all the stores were closed. The best thing about running this early was all the stores were closed. I admit my shopping had been out of hand. In my defense, it had been a very long time since I'd had someone to dress up for. Don't take that wrong. Beacon dates with a man or friends was an opportunity to dress up. Coming into New York to be with Angie and Eli was a good opportunity. Both opportunities I used well. Still, having a man appreciate what you wear and how you look in it is another level. I know what I look good in. I'm not changing my choices for Sebastian, or any man, but I will take his preferences into account. Shopping right now would be a bad idea. I’m sure I'm packing around a few extra pounds of cheese, bread, and wine. I'm hoping all the walking mitigated some of the damage.

On my way back, a couple of blocks from Sebastian's the city was waking up. More people and sounds. I realized tonight would be the first time I'd been alone in the city in about five years. I made plans to sit in the dark and just listen. I picked up a bagel and a smoothie that I was told would rejuvenate me. I wonder if the barista could tell? I broke into Sebastian's stash of nut butter. Half a bagel with cashew butter the other with almond. Cashew was better.

Being alone in his space is weird. None of my stuff is here. It's like a hotel, but not. I got a little nosey after I'd showered and dressed. Not in a going through his drawers and medicine cabinet nosey. Looking at his DVD and CD collection. Running my fingers down the spines of his books, pulling out ones that caught my interest to thumb through. I made a stack of things I wanted to read. I did go through his kitchen pretty thoroughly. It looks like a single man who travels and eats out a lot lives here. He doesn't have flour. How does one not have flour? He does have quite a condiment collection. I threw out expired things and made a list to replace them. That led me on a short journey to see if there was anything else he was almost out of and added things to the list.

Time to call the best friends. Angie picked up on the third ring, her voice excited to hear from me, "You're home!"

"I’m at Sebastian's. I meet with my advisor Monday."

"I want to see all the pictures and hear all the stories. We're going out tonight. Some friends are playing. You're welcome."

"Can I let you know later? I don't know what the time change is going to do."

"Absolutely. So.... " the paused after dragging out the word, "are you missing him? How was goodbye?"

"Goodbye took forever. Neither of us wanted to let go. At least half a dozen last kisses. Sucked. I miss him, but I'm okay. I'll be fine when I get home and am doing stuff. I've cleaned expired shit out of his kitchen and made a grocery list."

"That's cute. Hope he thinks so."

I hadn't thought about his opinion one way or another. I was just getting rid of shit before it stank up the place. "He won't care."

We talked for a while, deciding we'd do brunch tomorrow.

I was bored. I didn't lack for things to do, but I didn't have a routine here. Especially not without him. It didn't feel like home without him. Once I'd figured that out I was good and went about making myself at home.

I'd changed Sebastian's ringtone from "Dancing Queen" to my favorite part in "Every Time I’m With You." It was near the end after a heavy drumbeat "cause every time I'm with you I feel wanted. We could make believers if we dare. We're just two believers if we dare." It was incredible the first time we'd danced to it and it was incredible now. I heard it about six, midnight in France.

I'd barely registered his face before I heard his voice, "If I put that picture on my laptop and my laptop in the bed, I can pretend it's you."

I felt warm all over and smiled, "Yes, you can. Tell me about the first day of shooting."

"It was good. Long, but good. I'm comfortable with Jess and I like her direction." He told me stories that made me proud and made me laugh. "I did well today. What have you been up to?"

I gave him a quick rundown on my day, leaving the bit about making myself at home until last.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I can't believe you restocked my kitchen. Thank you. Do whatever you want to feel at home."

"What if I reorganized your drawers because your way doesn't make sense?"

"Have at it. I'll just think I forget and think I did it."

"And your kitchen so it flows better."

He shook his head, "I don't know what that means. Knock yourself out."

I laughed, "I didn't do either."

I loved the lines that formed at the corners of his eyes when he genuinely smiled. Like now, "I don't care what you do. I just want you to feel at home.”

Now we were where I wanted to be, "Here's the thing... my favorite foods in your kitchen, finding where I'm most comfortable to work on my laptop, and figuring out where has the best view when I want to relax with a book are good, but it's not enough. Doing all that did help me figure what's missing."

"What's missing and where can we get it?"

"It's free and I already found it. You make where ever we are home. You're my home."

"I'm your home." He looked a little dazed.

"When you were in my place I felt at home. At your parents, I felt at home. Being at your place with you I was perfectly at home. Paris too. Now I’m back and I did things to feel at home. Took a while until I realized its missing something. You. When I'm with you, wherever we are, I’m home."

I could tell he was processing, by the way his tongue moved, "I like that."

He kept thinking, squinting his eyes a little, "I don't know if you're my home. Not sure where home is. Sometimes I don't feel at home in my own skin. I like that I’m your home." He cringed, "The next couple of weeks are going to suck for you."

I banred out a laugh, "No, once I knew what the issue was I adjusted. I'm good now."

"You don't miss me anymore?"

"Oh, I miss you a lot." Were transitioned into silly conversation.

"Ok, good."

I gasped, "You want me to suffer?"

"Terribly." His eyes were wide as he nodded his head. "So much so that when you see me again you throw yourself into my arms and hold on so tight I can't breathe."

"Therefore making you suffer."

"Yes, please."

I did end up going out with Angie and Eli. Thankfully it was a jeans sort of bar. My hope was if I stayed moving I'd fall over, get a good night's sleep, and get back on New York time. It was a good fun night.

Sunday I took a run before getting ready for Angie to come over. I'd bribed her with her favorite home-cooked meal. I had her take pictures of me in various outfits around his apartment. At one point Angie rolled her eyes, "I can not believe I'm taking pictures of you rolling around in his bed."

"Six weeks, Angie. I suck at selfies. I need a stockpile to pull from."

"What you need is a class in basic photo editing on an iPhone."

"I know."

We went back to her place, stopping for supplies on the way. A few hours later we were feasting on cilantro lime salmon,  a creamy garlic parmesan orzo, and a greek salad. I've taught Angie to cook this several times, but she tells me it's never quite right. I think she skimps on the butter and that's a big no. And a healthy splash of the Sauvignon blanc lifts the whole thing a little.

Sebastian and I exchanged texts over the course of the day. A comment or question with stretches of time between answers. Mostly from him. I got excited when an unexpected text came through. His response to my dinner picture was a request for the same meal. Maybe with his parents.

Monday was a busier day. I had to dress like a doctoral student, pack my bags, clean up after myself, and plant surprises like the notes I keep finding in my condo. Mine are more fun. The green g- string from concert night is mixed in with his boxers. A couple of dresses parked next to something they matched well. A peach tank top mixed in with his workout gear. I had Angie take a picture in each room. Printed and framed them. My favorite is me sitting on the toilet. It has a lovely frame and is now on the wall across from the throne. I wanted everything ready for me to leave for home straight from my advisory meeting

My advisory meeting lasted a little over three hours. Three good hours. Dr. Kershaw had been appointed my advisor. I'd taken a class with her while working on my Master's and my second winter in Beacon, but at the time I'd been excited to work with students and studying digital classroom technology was something I wasn't wanting to explore. I wanted to be hands-on molding little minds and still wasn't sure what I wanted to do, but I'd enjoyed working on our team's website. Google Classroom was functional but limited by design. Three hours later I had it narrowed down.

Sebastian had texted me good luck this morning with a picture of his face, eyes closed and lips puckered. I'd sent back a picture of my legs, crossed at the ankles with my skirt draped to the side, while sitting in his favorite chair. I was more than halfway home when his ringtone came through my vehicle's speaker. I hit the button, "Hey, baby."

I could hear his smile in his voice, "Sounds like your lunch went well."

"It did!" I was still excited from lunch and the phone call with Angie after. "I like my advisor. There's only ten of us in the program with the plan to add ten more each fall."

"Wow!" He interjected. "So being accepted is even more impressive."

"Yeah." I was proud of myself. "Small and first-year makes everything very personalized. All of the potential classes overlap with other programs. Cognitive theory from Psych, advanced reading from Education, some Education Law and leadership, computer tech, and even game design. We spent a lot of time talking about what I’m passionate about. In the and I’m thinking I want to focus on reading intervention and programming for K-3."

"Which is what you're passionate about."

I laughed, "and you."

"And me. Did you just talk about direction or is there a plan? What coursework did they accept."

"The fifteen hours I've taken will apply. We designed a basic timeline. I've taken six hours the last two years. I'm confident I can handle that with work and having a life. If I want to take more I can. I don't want to take classes in the summer. Those are usually compressed and pretty intense, plus I'm not in a hurry. Somewhere in the middle, I write a thesis, which looks at a problem or a hole in what already exists. That will feed into my dissertation. I can either do research and design an experiment like comparing existing programs or create my own product."

"Any idea which way you want to go?"

"None at all. I figure the thesis will help figure that out."

"And when do I have to start calling you Doctor?" The seductive tone in his voice told me "have to" wasn't going to be a hardship.

"Three to four years. No summers and using the last semester for my dissertation is four. If I add a class in a couple of semesters or summer and do my dissertation concurrently then three. I have to be done in ten. I'm thinking I’ll figure out what I want to do the first two then design and implement the last two. A lot will depend on how long that takes." He couldn't see me, but I was waving a hand in the air. "It will work itself out."

"I love you."

"I love you. Enough me, tell me about your day."

We talked the rest of the way home where we had some fun.

I called Seattle and went through it all again with Ed. He was as excited and proud of me as was Seb. I found it a little sadly ironic that my lover was in a time zone six hours ahead, my family was three hours behind, and the ones in the same time zone weren't going to know for a few days. I didn't trust them to not take away from my accomplishment, neither did Ed, which meant they'd have to wait. Hell, they barely knew I'd been in France. They'd get to know once I was finished celebrating with people who would just be happy for me. That pushed a Georgia phone call off to the weekend after the volleyball tournament. Maybe after practice tomorrow if I could get my school lunch bunch to come for drinks, I’d even buy. I had no problem funding my own celebration. I just wanted my friends there. Angie and Eli were coming for the weekend. Maybe I'd call while they were here. Eli could make angry faces while Angie tried to scold him. Then either way it went we could drink our way through. That was a good plan. I texted all involved and they agreed.

I ran back out to the grocery for fresh berries, yogurt, and wine to go with my cheese. I bought other good for detox items and healthy foods. A stopped by a smoothie shop for a raspberry white chocolate protein drink. It was amazing how quickly I slid into my summer schedule. Run to the gym to work out. Run home. Have breakfast and practice guitar. Do whatever until it was warm enough to go lay by the pool and read or float. Have dinner, meet up with friends, volleyball practice, or lay on the couch with Netflix

Sebastian and I would text sporadically throughout the day. About nine my time, so three am for him, I'd send him a picture. One Angie took or something I'd taken during the day. He always woke up to see me. Some days that was more arousing than others. We talked almost every day. Maybe five minutes or an hour. Night shoots were the worst. He was working while I was awake and I was asleep during his time off.

The weekend Angie and Eli came down was fun. Friday night we stayed in watching movies and drinking. Saturday's tournament was going well until storms came through. The radar said there were hours of rain left, so they canceled. Since all our plans had been canceled we decided on a bar crawl. Which meant Sunday was spent recovering. We went to brunch at the riverside restaurant where Sebastian and I had our first date. On the drive back I made plans for calling Georgia. Angie and Eli were my get away plan. We went out on the back patio. I set up my iPad where they would only see me, but I could see my support system.

Dad picked up almost immediately, “Hey, Emma. You’re home. Amy told us you were in France.”

“Sebastian had an event so we made it a short vacation.”

“Sounds fun.” My mom had entered the frame. “I bet you appreciated things you overlooked before.”

I laughed, “I did. All those things I saw pictures of later and wished I’d paid more attention to. We had a good time.”

“That’s great.”

Time to dive in. “I wanted to tell you some good news.”

Amy jumped into frame and interrupted, “Can I hear too?”

I ignored the question and just went on, “I was accepted into a new Doctoral program at NYU. It’s education and digital media. It’s new so we’re building my program as we go.”

“That’s great news, Emma.” Dad looked excited, “Dissertation and everything?”

“Yes, it can be research or designing a project. I’ve got about three years to get that figured out. They accepted the post-grad classes I’ve been taking.”

“Congratulations, sweetheart. We’re proud of you.” Mom’s smile was bright.

“My baby sister is going to be a Doctor. I need to figure out my future.”

I shook my head, “You’ll figure it out. What’s right for you and my beautiful niece. She’s a job and a half.”

“I am not enjoying this age.”

“That’s why I teach first grade and not kindergarten or preschool.”

We talked a bit more about school, what was going on there, and how things were with Amy and Max. Mom asked about Sebastian, where he was, and if things were good between us. Instead of shutting her down, like I had in the car, I talked about him.

Not a minute after we hung up Amy texted, “How’s Sebastian feel about calling you Dr? *wink*wink*”

I sent back, “Exactly, like that.”

I closed my tablet and looked at my friends. I was not comfortable. Sure, the conversation had gone fine, but it didn’t feel fine. “That went better than expected.”

“This time.” Eli grimaced, “Sorry.”

“That’s what makes this so hard. This looks normal, but it’s not. If it was, I wouldn’t have this not in the bit of my stomach and want friends here when I talk to them. That’s not normal.”

Angie came over to kneel beside me, bringing me into a hug, “No, it’s not. You don’t need us when you call Seattle.”

Eli joined us, “I don’t think they know what they’re doing, but it doesn’t change it, Emma.”

I laughed, “I know.” I kissed his cheek. Dealing with my parents was worse for him than it was for me. I hated seeing people I love hurt too. I wasn’t hurt though. It was a weird numb.

“You ok, Em?”

I met Angie’s eyes, “I am. Just weird. The happier I am, the more good things going on, the more distant I feel. The better I’m doing, the less supportive they are.”

“Yep!” Eli didn’t hesitate to agree. “And that’s not alright.”

I mussed his hair, “No, it’s not.”

The next week was more of the same. I registered for my fall classes and my books were delivered by Wednesday. I started reading. Yes, I'm that student. I liked to get a head start. I'd never taken classes in the fall. The first month of teaching was exhausting. It took time and energy to get first graders ready to learn. I wasn't sure how that would work with starting my classes. Getting ahead on reading seemed the safest approach.

Thursday afternoon Sebastian called. Drunk. I guess wrapping in Paris was worthy of a party. The rest of cast and crew were packing up and heading to Rome. Sebastian was flying halfway around the world to San Diego's Comic-Con. He'd spend thirty-two hours of his four day weekend in a plane, which meant he was drunk and a little grumpy. By the time I was done with him he was still drunk, but no longer grumpy. He was naked, smiling, and satisfied. Well, as satisfied as he could be over the phone. Even drunk he was insistent that he not see me masturbating for the first time on video. We should have taken care of this.

I set an alarm for the middle of the night to make sure he was awake and would make his plane. It was worth it to lay in bed together.

[rovewritesit]

Angel Of My Dreams (Chapter 4) John Deacon x Reader Series

Series Summary: After reluctantly joining a band with your childhood best friends, you are thrust into oncoming stardom with no sea legs and an overwhelming sense of anxiety. But you just might find your way, thanks to some seasoned pros by your side. And the interest of one particular bassist.

This series is a work of fiction, and is loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3

Pairing: John Deacon x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Strong language. Feelings of anxiety.

Chapter Notes: This one was a doozy! Don’t start your very first fic with only a vague idea of where it’s going, friends! Quick reminder that this is a slow ass burn. Gonna take us a bit to get there but want to point out there will be no infidelity. Also fun fact: my grandfather actually did work at Elaine’s and the Mick Jagger story is true.

Song/Title Inspiration: Angel - Fleetwood Mac

Songs Mentioned:

Hallelujah, I Love Her So - Ray Charles

Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel) - Billy Joel - [I know it wasn’t released till the 90s but I couldn’t shake it]

Taglist: @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​ @brianmays-hair @deacyblues @squishy-geckboye @hae-bee @aprilaady

- - - - - - -

July 1982 - Freeport, Long Island

“I’ll be right back,” you sigh to no one in particular, pushing yourself off of the faded paisley couch in the basement of Steve’s parent’s house and making your way upstairs for a glass of water. The dull pounding in your head had only gotten worse from repeatedly staring at the green shag carpeting leftover from the prior decade. Navigating the layout of the familiar house with ease, you make your way to the kitchen.

“Oh, Bunny! Wonderful, I was just about to bring down some iced tea,” calls out Steve’s mother upon seeing you.

“Thanks, Mrs. Castellano. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, you know me. It was too quiet when you were all away.” The Limbs had recently gotten back from a small European tour--the album having spread beyond England; to Scotland, France, Germany, and Belgium. “I can’t help myself when I get all of you back under my roof. Speaking of… how’s it going down there?” she presses.

You keep your deadpan expression glued to your face as you lock eyes with the kind woman.

She grimaces, “I had a feeling. You better bring this back yourself then,” she hands you the pitcher.

“Will do. Thanks again, Mrs. C,” you tell her as you start to trudge your body back towards the basement. You let out a deep sigh before yanking the door open and descending into the pit of your own personal hell.

Lawrence’s voice booms from below, “I said simple! A simple four to the floor, and that’s it.”

The rest of The Limbs were right as you left them. Eddie and Rich lounge on the couch that is pushed up against the wood-paneled walls, their guitars strewn casually over their legs as they watch the ongoing argument. Lawrence paces around the room, his hands seemingly glued to his head as he pulls on his hair, and Steve sits behind his drum kit that’s tucked away in the corner. Padded blankets hang from the ceiling around him - a sorry excuse for soundproofing.

“Oh c’mon, I’m just adding some flavor to it! I’ll be as boring, sorry simple, as you want when we actually record it,” Steven replies, twirling a drumstick in his right hand.

Rich lets out a sigh as he clocks you making your way back. “Bun, any help here?”

You softly place the pitcher on a table off to the side before turning to the group, leaning back on your hands. “I just don’t get why we need to debut something new if it’s obviously not ready,” you say carefully.

“Of course you’d say that,” Lawrence grumbled, gesturing in your general direction. “Do you not want to sing it? Because you all told me you thought it was good!”

“It’s not that, and you know it, it’s just-”

“It just needs some work before Sunday, so let’s run the rhythm section again,” Eddie cuts in impatiently from his perch on the back of the couch. He untangles his spidery limbs and makes his way over to where you’re camped out.

“Okay, I’ll explain it again,” Lawrence huffs.

“We don’t need this stress two days before we play,” you tell Eddie softly.

“It’s a hometown show, Y/N,” he looks at you pointedly. “These folks helped get us to where we are. It’ll be nice to give them something new.”

The label had secured The Limbs a night at the Jones Beach Theater, the largest outdoor venue on the island. People from all over traveled to watch such acts as Jimmy Buffet, James Taylor, and Aerosmith, the height of entertainment for the suburban droves. And now they’ll be camping out for the first hometown Limbs show since they’d been signed. It was a huge deal, and you knew it, but you didn’t need something unfamiliar to throw off your already wavering shadow of a presence on stage.

Rich begins to pluck out the new bass line, carefully watching Lawrence’s reaction as he plays. On the pick-up, Steve again adds a light flourish as he joins in.

“Steve! For god’s sake! What did I just say?!”

“Live a little, will ya, Lawrence!” Steven shouts back.

The door to the basement wrenches open, and you all freeze. Mr. Castellano’s footsteps are heavy as he stomps down the stairs, somehow staring all of you down at once.

“Kids. If you’d be so kind as to keep it down a tad. I already have to watch the Yankees hand their asses over to the Blue Jays up there. I would at least like to hear it.”

“Sorry, Dad,” Steve mumbles.

“Thank you.” He starts to make his way back up the stairs but halts, turning to you once again. “Oh, also, someone from your label called before,” he adds on casually.

Steven jumps up from his stool, “What?! Dad!”

“What?! Steven!” he mimics. “I’m not your secretary.”

“Can you just tell us what they said?” Steve scoffs at his father.

“Something about being invited to a show at The Garden tonight. Some band. It’s… Dang it. I wrote it down somewhere,” he mutters, making his way back up the stairs.

“I wonder who it is,” Rich thinks aloud, glancing around to all of you.

Eddie notices as your body immediately stiffens beside him.

“Bun?” he asks slowly. “Do you know who’s playing Madison Square Garden tonight?”

Your eyes find the green carpet once again. Of course you knew who was playing tonight. Queen was beginning their two-night stay at the venue. Dawn wanted to get tickets, but you had argued that it was getting harder for you to go unrecognized in public. That, and the fact you had come to the realization you could only act like a complete fool around any of the band members. You weren’t keen on adding another entry to the list.

“It’s Queen!” Mr. Castellano calls from upstairs. “Starts at 8. You kids should get going if you’re gonna make it.”

“Queen’s playing?” Lawrence marvels. “How did we miss that?”

Rich rises, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe all the incessant practicing you’ve been holding us hostage for?” 

“She knew,” Eddie smirks, pointing at you with his thumb. You stick your tongue out at him.

“Why didn’t you say anything? I’ve never gotten the chance to see them live before!” Steve questions, already rocking back on his heels with excitement. He had become quite the Queen fan since your run-in with Freddie after sticking to him like glue that entire night.

You shrug, trying to act nonchalant, “I thought we had more important things to focus on.”

“No, that’s not it,” Eddie deduces, narrowing his eyes at you. “You’re just embarrassed that you went all jellied around Mr. Mercury the last time.”

“You’re the one who had to go and tell him all about me fawning over them on MTV!”

“Ooor, maybe it’s because the entirety of the UK saw you making eyes at their bassist on that game show,” Lawrence elaborates.

“There were no eyes being made at anyone,” you grit out defensively, knowing full well that their words were ringing true.

“I, for one, am happy you have a crush, Bun. You know it’s been a while since…” Rich trails off, leaving out the name of a dreaded ex none of you speak of.

You push yourself off your perch on the table with a huff. “You know what? We’ll go. Let’s go. That way, I can disprove all your wildly inaccurate assumptions,” you retort, wanting to get the heat off you fast.

Steven chuckles, “Oh no, she’s broken out her dictionary, folks. Looks like we’ve hit a nerve.” He pokes your side playfully.

“Shut up, please,” you tell them, making your way over to the stairs. “We have a train to catch.”

- - - - - - -

You’re late.

The muffled bass from the arena hits your ears as the Limbs dash up the steps leading from Penn Station to MSG. You all but sprint to catch up with the boy’s long gaits as they approach the box office window.

“Hiya, there’s supposed to be some tickets at will-call for us from the band,” Eddie explains to a woman behind the glass as he tries to catch his breath.

“Name?” 

“Uh… Lo & The Limbs?”

“Don’t have anything under that name. Could it be something else?”

“Can you try just The Limbs?” he guesses, turning back to the group with wide, panicked eyes.

“Nope, sorry,” she answers in a monotone.

“How about The Legs,” you offer up from your spot behind Rich’s tall figure. She just shakes her head.

“Well, fuck,” Lawrence sighs, slapping his palms against his legs, obviously ticked off from the 45-minute train ride you’d all barely caught because Steve had changed his shirt a minimum of three times before you could all head out.

“What about Bunny?” Steve asks with a giggle.

The woman raises her eyebrows before checking the list yet again.

“Ah, there you are. Bunny and friends,” she concludes with a sigh.

A chorus of chuckles erupts from the boys. You point your finger at Eddie.

“I’m coming for ya. Eds. You’re not gonna know where or when, but I’ll get you back for this one day,” you tell him playfully. 

“Oh yeah, and when you kill me, you can be free to go off and start your solo group, Bunny and Friends.”

She hands you all large laminate passes and gestures for you to follow a security guard. They deposit you in one of the skyboxes on the 10th floor. The Limbs tentatively enter, glancing around at the mishmash of people gathered. Extra crew, friends of the band, some execs, you guess to yourself. The boys immediately descend on the small bar set up in the back of the room.

“Here, I assume you need one of these,” Lawrence shoves a beer in your shaking hands. 

“You assume right, good sir.”

“How the hell did we lose Steve already?” Eddie gripes. Rich easily spots him over the tops of heads surrounding them, pointing to a tall figure pushing his way towards the front of the box that opens up into seating. You all follow, mummering polite excuse me’s and thank you’s as you try to keep up. You can hear Play The Game get louder as you approach the view. 

Steve rushes to the first row of seats, leaning over the railing of the balcony. “God, will you look at all these people?” he marvels, watching as the dancing lights illuminate the mass below him.

But you’re not looking at the crowd. Your gaze immediately finds the stage, where Freddie is situated behind a piano off to the left. His voice booms as if he were standing right next to you, and you’re positive that even without a mic, it would be heard by all 20,000 individuals. His eyes are closed as he slams hard on the piano, seemingly in his own world, yet the entire crowd is wholly entranced.

Brian then casually lopes to center for his solo. He smiles out at the crowd as his fingers dance across the frets gracefully while Eddie screams in appreciation throughout. He then jogs back to his mic, nearly missing his cue for his backing vocals, but his fingers never rest. Roger’s gravely falsetto catches your ear, and you train your eyes on the multitasking drummer. Even up behind his kit, his presence takes center stage while he keeps perfect time. The group ends the song in perfect synchronicity as the lights cut to black.

The chords for Somebody To Love start with a few majestic trills from Freddie’s voice, but your attention is once again grabbed away. Towards the back of the stage, still cast in darkness, you see John. He quickly shrugs off a fitted leather jacket to reveal an even tighter full cerulean blue ensemble before a roadie slips the strap of his bass over his head. He strolls into the light just as Freddie finishes his improv, lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet as they begin the song.

While he keeps his gaze mostly pointed to the ground, his body already thrums with anticipation. As it really gets going, you watch as he comes to life. You can’t help but hang onto his every movement; the unintentional jerks of his head, the light two-step of his feet as he shuffles along to his bass line's groove. He seems entirely at the will of the song and loving every minute of it. A pang of jealousy hits your chest as you wonder if you’d ever feel that free on stage.

Not much conversation passes between you and the boys as you watch on, more than a bit awestruck. You’re not sure how many songs pass, but fresh beers repeatedly appear in your hands every so often. The lights are dizzyingly bright as your eyes skip around the stage, trying to absorb as much as you can. You find they consistently flick back to John, sucking in every minutia of his performance. Your chest tightens like it did the day of Pop Quiz. Every time he had caught your eye, you remember having to push down the inescapable thoughts you were having. You would tell yourself you don’t know what it is about him, but you’d be lying. 

A voice jolts you out of your stupor. “You must be Fred’s young friends he met in New Haven.”

The group turns to find a small man situated in the row behind them wearing an impeccably tailored suit.

“Jim Beach, manager for the band,” he holds out a hand for each of you to shake. “Sorry for the last-minute invitation. Fred was simply beside himself when he remembered you’re all from New York. So glad you could make it.”

“This is incredible, thanks so much for having us,” Rich tells the man sincerely as his gaze keeps being drawn back to the stage.

“Glad you’re enjoying yourselves. We’ve always been big fans of playing here.”

“It’s quite the spectacle,” you muse. “I've never seen The Garden this decked out before. I mean, those lighting rigs alone must cost…” you trail off.

“Believe me, you don’t want to know,” Jim replies with a quirk of his lips. “If you’d all like to follow me downstairs, they’ll be finishing up soon, and I’m sure Fred would love to thank you for coming.”

Steve leaps from his plastic seat, “Yes, please!”

- - - - - - -

The green room is unlike any you’ve ever seen—rust-colored persian rugs litter the floor, the grey slate underneath barely peeking through. Tapestries and various paintings line the walls, somehow giving the usually sterile space a homey feel. Multiple buffet tables filled with every accoutrement imaginable are tucked away in a back corner.

The room is scarce of people for the most part. Crew members filter in and out, grabbing waters, some puffing on cigarettes as they wipe down their sweaty foreheads. A select few have migrated down from the skybox as well.

Lawrence plops down on one of the many leather couches, taking in the room. “So this is what it’s like when you make it?”

“Seems a little excessive even for a band of their stature,” murmurs Rich as if reading your mind.

The deafening roar of the crowd is heard from above, and Queen closes out their encore. The crew members who are now needed for the post set break-down hurry from the room as it gets quiet. You all sit there in near silence for a few moments until a light cheer erupts as Freddie, Brian, and Roger all enter the room, swaddled in thick robes and towels around their necks. They're breathing heavy, still radiating the energy from their set, knowing full well that it was a fantastic show.

“Thank you, darling,” Freddie says as someone hands him a bottle of cold water, glancing around at the people who are still giving the band a wide berth. He spots the group of you huddled out of the way. “Oh!” he exclaims with a clap of his hands, making his way over, “You made it!”

He kisses you all on the cheeks, leaving a ghost of sweat on your faces. “My gangly young saplings! It’s lovely to see you.” He locks eyes with you, a wicked grin on his face. “And you most of all, my little cottontail.”

“You were fantastic Freddie, thank you so much for thinking of us, really,” you tell him genuinely.

“And who have we got here?” a towering Brian May appears behind Freddie.

“Oh yes, may I present to you, Lo & The Limbs!” Freddie says, spreading his arms wide. So he does remember the name; you laugh to yourself.

Eddie pushes further into the group to immediately extend his hand. “You slayed tonight, man. I mean, really slayed.”

Brian returns the shake with a surprised laugh. “Why, thank you. I’ve heard your album, and I have to say, you all… slay as well.”

“Oy, you!” A disheveled looking Roger Taylor makes his way over to the group, people parting like the red sea before him. He marches straight up to you, his finger inches from your nose. “I lost quite a lot of quid, thanks to you.”

You shrink back a bit. “I’m sorry?”

“It would be like John to bring in a ringer at the last second. And after we’d already threw down our bets.” You glance at Freddie with a confused look still on your face.

“What a lovely way to welcome our new friends,” Brian throws an arm over Roger’s shoulder before turning to you. “We may have made a slight wager on John’s most recent Pop Quiz appearance.”

“Slight?” Freddie smirks. “My new Gucci loafers would disagree, darling.”

Roger lets out an incoherent grumble. “Well, he usually fucks it up, doesn’t he? That is until you snuck in there.”

“I’m… sorry?” you offer, failing to find a witty remark for the situation.

He heaves a dramatic sigh, “I guess you’ll just have to make it up to me. I’ve been looking for someone to help me bury the bodies, or do my taxes, or be on call if I perhaps fancied a shag in the middle of the night?” he raises his brows in an overtly teasing manner.

You let out a sharp snort. “Fancy a shag? God, that sounds so much better than “ya wanna go fuck?”

Roger chuckles heartily, “Alright, alright. It was touch and go there for a bit, but I’ve come ‘round. I like this one. She can stay.”

“Y’know, we made a bet of sorts as well,” Lawrence reveals with a mischievous grin. The men all look to him, intrigued. “How long Y/N could keep her cool around that bassist of yours. She failed miserably, and now we shall reap the benefits by teasing her mercilessly until the end of time.”

You swear your mouth couldn’t have dropped open faster. Really need to work on that poker face, you tell yourself.

“Someone was trying to be cool around Deacy? Are you sure you’ve met the man?” Brian laughs.

Staring blankly around, all you know is you need to get out of this situation fast. “I need to pee,” you announce loudly. Really, Y/N? “Excuse me.”

Quickly ducking out of the room before anyone can say anything, you lean your back up against the wall in the hallway as you collect your swimming thoughts. What was it about this band that made you get all dumbstruck? Truth be told, you weren’t usually a timid person. Sure, everyone had bouts of social anxiety now and again, but you navigated social interactions seamlessly for the most part. It had always been easy for you to make friends or crack a quick comeback at a joke. Teasing was a form of endearment where you came from. But ever since you’d entered this new world, it was as if you were a stranger in your body. Who happened to be almost mute apparently. You push yourself off the wall to find a bathroom, your mind still fully occupied by your inner ramblings.

“Points!” a roadie shouts at you, trying to get your attention as they push a cart of cumbersome looking sound equipment right into your path. Before you have time to react, two hands grip your waist and pull you back to your previous position against the wall. 

Once again, you are face to face with a familiar chest. You watch as a light chuckle rumbles through it.

“I know it’s cheesy to say, but we have to stop meeting like this. Or do you make it a point to always bumble about in narrow hallways?” John pulls his hands back to his side as you meet his attractive colored eyes, amusement flickering in them. 

“John. Hi,” is all you manage.

“Good to see you again, Y/N. Freddie mentioned you all might be stopping by. Glad you could make it.”

You try and will your new persona not to take hold, but all you can do is smile meekly at him. He regards you patiently, cocking his head to the side slightly.

“Did you enjoy the show?”

“Yes, very much,” you rush out quickly. “I’ve never seen anything quite like that before. The Garden’s not an easy place to play.”

“Thank you. You’re kind," he smiles bashfully. "The crowds in New York are some of my favorites. I wish we got the chance to spend more time here, but it seems we’re always passing through.”

“Am I interrupting?” Freddie asks with raised eyebrows from the doorway, a grin on his face.

John makes his way over to him. “Not at all. Just heroically saving Y/N from a near-death run-in with Ratty.”

“Sounds about right,” Freddie muses. “Now, if we’re all safe and sound, I’d like to get out of here. I’m positively starving.”

“Where to?” John asks.

“I want to go someplace real New Yorkers go,” he looks to you expectantly.

“Bun-bun?” you hear from inside before Steve pokes his head around Fred.

“Is your grandpa working tonight?”

- - - - - - -

Even John knew of Elaine’s. He’d hadn’t heard about it because the notable food, but rather the wide variety of clientele it boasted. Writers, directors, actors, and musicians alike frequently filled the establishment for the ambiance and lively conversation. Freddie would love it.

The large group enters through the wood door under a large awning, immediately hit by a wall of sound. The small place is packed to the brim. Raucous laughter can be heard from most tables as the patrons sardine together, shouting over one another. It had a certain charm, he guessed, taking in the decor of signed book covers and hand-painted murals.

“Bambina!” A small italian-looking maitre d' steps from behind the counter and spreads his arms wide as he engulfs Y/N into a hug. “You didn’t tell me you were stopping by tonight.”

“Sorry, Papa. It was last minute. Just in time for the 10:30 rush by the looks of it.”

An infectiously warm smile spreads across his face. “Do you see me complaining? You hardly visit anymore now that you’re running around the world with that guitar. I’m so proud of you,” he adds softly, kissing her forehead. “Look at these boys!” he greets the rest of The Limbs like family, clapping each man on the back with love. “Am I shrinking already, or are all you still growing?”

“Probably a little of both, Dom,” Eddie laughs with the old man.

“And there’s even more, I see,” he inquires, finally noticing Queen.

It was unusual for them not to be the center of attention in any given situation, all of them hanging back except for Freddie, who marches right up to the man and places a kiss on his cheek.

“Freddie Mercury, a dear friend of your Y/N. It’s a pleasure.”

He looks to Y/N suspiciously. “Are they musicians? You know what happened that one time. I had to pry Elaine off of beating that tiny Mickey guy. I’m telling ya, it was ugly.”

“Not Mickey- Mick, Papa. How many times do I have to tell you?” Y/N shushes him, looking a bit embarrassed.

Dom waves his hand at her, “Whoever he is, that kid owes me his life. I expect these ones to behave.”

Roger snorts from the back, “Not very likely.”

“We promise,” Freddie swears. “And might I say, I love the suit. Very dashing,” he adds on for good measure.

“Well, how else do you think I got this job?” Dom smiles at him with a wink. “C’mon,” he gestures for all to follow as he leads them through the narrow restaurant, to a long table in the back. “Enjoy, boys,” he tells them as he heads back to his post up front, kissing Y/N on the cheek before leaving.

“Come sit next to me, my love,” Freddie calls to Y/N, patting the seat beside him. “If any of your other family members are as outrageous as that man, I want to hear all about them.”

The group moves to squish in around the table. Roger silently catches John’s eye and motions to the seat next to Y/N. He quirks his brows at him, confused, but makes his way to sit between them.

Eddie has taken his rightful place next to Brian with Rich in tow, the three already in deep conversation about the current music scene. Lawrence and Roger sit opposite each other, tearing into the bread basket and chatting about the show. Next to Freddie, Steve is eagerly hanging onto every word he says as he chats to Y/N about her upbringing.

“I’m just hoping one day we get to do something like that, man. Our show on Sunday should be a pretty big deal, though,” Lawrence tells Roger.

“Where are you playing? CBGB? The Palladium?” 

“Nah, we’re playing out on the island. Jones Beach.”

“Huh, Long Island. We’ve never been to Long Island before,” Roger ponders, intrigued. “What’s there to do on Long Island?”

“Well, do you like bowling? Strip malls?” Lawrence pauses for effect. “Bowling at strip malls?”

John lightly chuckles. An arm brushes his shoulder, and he moves back slightly as a large woman weaves her hands around Y/N’s shoulders.

“My little Y/N has come back to us! And surrounded by even more devilishly handsome men than usual.”

Y/N turns around in her seat to give the woman a proper hug. “Elaine! It’s been too long.”

“Let me get a good look at you,” she gestures for Y/N to spin as she regards her. “If you need help beating em’ off of ya, I have my bat behind the counter.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, teasingly, “Don��t I know it. I have a vivid childhood memory of you chasing Ron Galella around the dining room with that thing.”

She lets out a larger than life laugh at the memory, patting the young girl on the back. “Oh, those were the good years. So, aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friends?”

“Elaine! I’m hurt you don’t remember our beautiful time together,” Eddie teases her from the table's end.

“Shut it, Eddie,” she reprimands him with a point of her stubby finger.

Y/N turns to the group, spreading her arms wide. “Guys, this is Elaine Kaufman, of Eliane’s, obviously. Elaine, this is Queen.”

She attempts a half-hearted curtsey. “Your majesties. Welcome.”

Before long, Elaine has pulled up a chair as she cracks dirty jokes back and forth with Freddie, which has the rest of the group (and some nearby diners) howling in laughter. Y/N’s now-familiar cackle sends tingles through John’s body once again. She’s more relaxed than he’s previously seen her be. Her hair is tied back in a ponytail, showcasing her broad smile as she looks on fondly, hands waving about whenever she joins in the conversation. Her face is mostly free of makeup and he catches the hint of a dimple on one of her cheeks as she glances over at him to share in a joke.

Freddie gasps as he catches someone entering the front door. “Is that Shirley MacLaine? Slap my ass and call me Sally, that woman does not age.”

“Come with me,” Elaine says, rising from her chair. “I think she’ll like you.”

Food appears without any of them having to order, along with bottles of wine Elaine insisted they’d love. John tentatively takes a bite of one of the dishes set before him.

“Oh god,” he blurts out upon tasting.

Y/N snickers beside him. “Bad, right? I recommend the tortellini if you want something remotely edible.” She pushes a plate towards him, snagging some for herself.

He gulps down water, trying to rid himself of the bland taste. “I would ask why this place is packed, but it seems I’ve already met her.”

“And you would be right. She’s a riot, but I fully blame her for my vulgar vocabulary,” she reveals, taking a giant bite of pasta.

“You and Freddie seem to have that in common.”

Y/N chews slowly as she muses over that sentiment. “That seems to be the only thing we have in common,” she says softly. He cocks his head at her in question.

“It’s just,” she starts, a somber look replacing her previously buoyant one. “Watching him on stage tonight. All of you actually. You seem so free, so comfortable up there. And Freddie is just magnetic, you know that. It’s as if he makes the crowd fall in love with him again and again with every song. I could never do that…”

“I find that quite hard to believe,” he mumbles, continuing on quickly. “Freddie’s a performer. Everything he does up there is for that crowd. Whereas I’m just a musician, I think. It probably helps that I don’t sing. It'll just take some time to find your footing. You don’t have to be both. You don't have to be either for that matter.”

She scoffs lightly, pushing the food around on her plate. “Don’t I? Ever since this all began, I feel like I’m some paper doll or something. People just dress me up and mold me into what they want. And I go right along with it because I don’t even recognize this version of myself if I’m being honest. So I just keep that mask on until I get back home and I can finally breathe. Because then, at least I don’t have to stare at a stranger in the mirror anymore.” 

She breaks out of the daze she fell into while rambling. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t unload on you like this,” she catches herself. “I guess I just had a very different assumption of what my life would look like... I think I'm afraid of losing who I am in all this."

John takes her in, catching glimpses of his former self in her cracks. He itches to soothe her distress. “I can understand,” he tells her sympathetically. “Hell, I thought I was joining a band to play with on the side at uni and look at us now. Sometimes I still feel like I’m leading a double life. I tried to convince myself all this was just a job at first, but I’m sure you’re finding out quickly that’s not always true.”

Y/N looks at him intently, and it’s the first time he truly sees the depth of her eyes. He clears his throat before continuing.

“I've come to learn that the concept of home is a funny thing. For a long time, I held onto the idea of it that I always had for myself, but it’s harder than it looks with what we do,” he sighs, running a hand through his short curls, not wanting to dwell too long on his unpleasent situation back in England. 

“But home can be anything really. It can be people,” he says, glancing at his bandmates. “Or even the stage, which sometimes I think is Freddie’s. Or you can be Roger, and make yourself at home wherever you go.”

They glance over at Rog, who is in the middle of an animated story, waving his glass of wine around as it drips on the tablecloth.

“So all you can do is find whatever that home is and hold onto it the best you can. And it might change, but that doesn't mean you have to," he nudges her shoulder with his.

Y/N smiles down at her lap. “Thank you,” she tells him quietly, still swimming in her own thoughts.

“Of course,” he assures, pausing to breathe- not used to giving long-winded explanations. Nervous that he’s pushed too far, he glances over, catching as her shoulders relax.

The restaurant was mostly cleared out by now, save for a few regulars sitting at the tall wood bar. The staff chats casually amongst themselves as they clean off empty tables for the night. Steve is giving Freddie details of the New York club scene, probably hoping to earn himself an invitation one day. Elaine’s regaling Brian, Eddie, and Rich with a story about two writers and a feud of accused plagiarism. Lawrence and Roger were currently attempting to turn their napkins into amusing hats for each other. John finds himself enjoying the young band's presence, their chaotic energy seeming to match Queen’s dynamic quite well.

The group collectively jumps as the music drastically raises in volume, the intro of Ray Charles’ ‘Hallelujah, I Love Her So’ pouring out.

“Oh god, no,” Y/N groans next to him as the waiters all turn their attention to her. Dom appears beside her with an outstretched hand. “Papa, not now, please.”

“Indulge your grandfather, Y/N,” he winks at her as she reluctantly takes his hand, pulling her to the middle of the room. John’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise as the old man springs to life, twirling his granddaughter around the room with ease. The pure spryness of someone that age was genuinely shocking.

“Oh, this is fabulous!” Freddie laughs as he leans his chin forward on his hands.

And it was. The staff cheers, hinting that this was a familiar routine for them. The rest of The Limbs sing along with the track, watching the two affectionately like old family.

Y/N’s apprehensive look fades away as she gives in to the fun, pure joy flashing across her features as she glides along, following her grandfather in the swing dance rather gracefully. She looks free, John thinks to himself, drinking in the true version of the young woman. She was dazzling as her hair fell messily from her ponytail and her laugh was louder than ever as Dom dips her low to the floor, her body bending with him. If this was home, he could see why she was reluctant to leave it behind.

He’s mesmerized by her every movement. She was still an enigma to him, each detail he pulled from her, just making him hungry for more. 

You shouldn’t. You’re still married. Well, technically. Papers aren’t signed yet.

“Alright, I’m convinced,” Roger shouts at Lawrence. “Looks like we'll have to stop in Long Island.”

- - - - - - -

“Fuck, it’s cold,” Brian announces, burrowing further into his white windbreaker.

The Jones Beach Theater was tucked right up to the shoreline, causing the spray of the Atlantic to chill the air despite the summer heat. John had never seen a venue like it. It’s as if the vast sea acted as an extended backdrop to the stage, reflecting the stars and inky drape of the night.

The crowd didn’t seem to mind at all. They had been brilliant the entire night, singing along to every one of the songs and dancing in full force. It was perfectly clear how proud they were of their hometown heroes.

The Limbs themselves were a sight to behold from the wings of the stage. The energy from the packed seats had bled over, and all 5 members were indeed feeling it. They had been in perfect sync with each other the entire show, and John was certainly amused by their own way of interacting with their audience. It mostly consisted of them hurling humorous insults back and forth to each other in between songs.

Even Y/N seemed to be enjoying herself, despite her confession the other night. She had taken Freddie’s note that he’d given after seeing her dance and was now stepping out from behind the mic stand for her songs. She slinked around the stage effortlessly, interacting with the other members and the crowd, much to their glee.

“Before we say goodnight to you all, we’d like to leave you with a little something,” Rich calls out over the deafening cheers. “A lullaby of sorts from one of our favorites.”

Y/N drags a stool out to the center of the stage as Lawrence begins a somber melody on the keyboard. The audiences erupts in cheers and John recognizes it as a Billy Joel song.

She takes a seat behind the mic as she gazes out over the crowd. The exhilarated face she had been sporting all night was gone, a shade of melancholy in its place now.

Goodnight, my angel, time to close your eyes

And save these questions for another day

I think I know what you’ve been asking me

I think you know what I’ve been trying to say

Her hypnotic voice pierces through the now-silent crowd. The type of voice you immediately feel in your chest, as if it’s personally strumming your heartstrings. No one dares to sing along, afraid they'll miss a moment of her inflection.

I promised I would never leave you

Then you should always know

Wherever you may go, no matter where you are

I never will be far away

The familiar sight of lighters being illuminated flickers through the sea of people before them, casting a hazy glow on the previously faceless patrons. Their peaceful stares fixed on Y/N, entranced as if she was siren of sorts.

Goodnight my angel, now it’s time to dream

And dream how wonderful your life will be

Someday your child may cry, and if you sing this lullaby

Then in your heart, there will always be a part of me

Her voice breaks a bit, giving away the glassiness of her eyes. They’re not fixed on the crowd, but instead on the sky beyond them. John watches the panes of her face intently. She wasn’t singing to them, he realizes. This was to herself. Possibly to that image in her mind, she had confided in him, the one she was struggling to leave behind—her piece of home.

Someday we’ll all be gone

But lullabies go on and on

“She’s going to be something else, isn’t she?” Freddie asks, mostly to himself.

They never die

That’s how you and I will be

John watches as a single tear slips off the slope of her nose as she finishes, bowing her head.

“Yeah, I think she is.”

[maddie-grove]

The Top Twenty Books I Read in 2020

My main takeaways:

I’m glad that I set certain reading goals this year (i.e., reading an even mix of different genres and writing about each book I read on this tumblr). I feel like it really expanded my horizons.

There are a lot of proper names on my Top 20 list this year, which possibly means something about identity? That, or I just tried to read more Victorian novels. 

Be horny, and be kind.

Now...

20. The White Mountains by John Christopher (1967)

In a world ruled by unseen creatures who roam the countryside in tall metal tripods, all humans are “capped” (surgically fitted with metal plates on their heads) at age fourteen. Thirteen-year-old Will Parker looks forward to becoming a man, but a conversation with a mysterious visitor to his village raises a few doubts. This early YA dystopia has gorgeous world-building (notably a trip to the ruins of Paris) and expert pacing. The choices Will has to make are also more surprising and complicated than I ever anticipated.

19. What Happened at Midnight by Courtney Milan (2013)

John Mason wants revenge on his fiancée Mary after she skips town following her father’s death...apparently with the funds that her father, John’s business partner, embezzled from their company. When he tracks her down, though, she’s working as a lady’s companion to the wife of a controlling gentleman who refuses to pay her wages, and John’s fury turns to sympathy and curiosity. This is a smart, well-plotted Victorian-set novella about a couple who builds a better relationship after a rocky start.

18. Johnny Tremain by Esther Forbes (1943)

It’s 1773, and fourteen-year-old Bostonian Johnny Tremain has it all: a promising apprenticeship to a silversmith, the run of his arguably senile master’s household, and...unresolved grief over his widowed mother’s death? When a workplace “accident” ruins his hand and career, though, he must “forge” a new identity. Despite its jingoism and surfeit of historical exposition, I fell in love with this weird early YA novel. It’s a fascinating, heartbreaking portrayal of disability and ableism, and, to be fair, Forbes was just jazzed about fighting the Nazis.

17. Something Happened to Ali Greenleaf by Hayley Krischer (2020)

After universally beloved jock Sean Nessel rapes starry-eyed junior Ali Greenleaf at a party, his queen-bee friend Blythe Jensen agrees to smooth things over by befriending his victim. Ali knows Blythe’s motives are weird and sketchy, but being friends with a popular, exciting girl is preferable to dealing with the fallout of the rape. This YA novel is a complex, astute exploration of trauma and moral responsibility.

16. The Color of Law by Richard Rothstein (2017)

Rothstein details how the federal U.S. government allowed, encouraged, and sometimes even forcibly brought about segregation of black and white Americans during the early and mid-twentieth century, with no regard for the unconstitutionality of its actions. He brings home the staggering harm to black Americans who were kept from living in decent housing, shut out of home ownership for generations, and denied the opportunity to accumulate wealth for generations. It’s an impactful read, and I was honestly shocked to learn Rothstein isn’t a lawyer, because the whole thing reads like an expansion of an excellent closing statement.

15. My Friend Dahmer by Derf Backderf (2012)

In this graphic memoir, Backderf looks back on his casual, fleeting friendship with future serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer, a high school classmate who amused Backderf and his geeky friends with bizarre, chaotic antics. Backderf brings their huge, impersonal high school to life, illustrating how the callousness and cruelty of such an environment allowed an isolated, troubled teen to morph into something much more disturbing without anyone really noticing. It’s a work of baffled, tentative empathy and regret that stayed with me long after I finished it.

14. Daniel Deronda by George Eliot (1876)

Gwendolyn Harleth, beautiful and ambitious but with no real outlet, finds herself compelled to marry a heartless gentleman with a shady past. Daniel Deronda, adopted son of her husband’s uncle, finds himself drawn into her orbit due to his helpful nature, but he’s also dealing with a lot of other stuff, like helping a Jewish opera singer and figuring out his parentage. I love George Eliot and, although this bifurcated novel isn’t her most accessible work, it’s highly rewarding. The psychological twists and turns of Gwendolyn’s story are a wonder to experience, and Daniel’s discovery of his past and a new community is moving.

13. The Plot Against America by Philip Roth (2004)

The Roths, an ordinary working-class Jewish family in 1940 Newark, find their quiet lives descending into fear, uncertainty, and strife after Charles Lindbergh, celebrity pilot and Nazi sympathizer, becomes president of the United States. This alternate history/faux-memoir perfectly captures the slow creep of fascism and the high-handed cruelty of state-sanctioned discrimination, as well as the weirdness of living a semi-normal life while all of that is going on. Also: fuck Herman and Alvin for messing up Bess’s coffee table! She is a queen, and she deserves to read Pearl S. Buck in a pleasant setting!

12. David Copperfield by Charles Dickens (1850)

Young David Copperfield has an idyllic life with his sweet widowed mom and devoted nursemaid Peggotty, until his cruel stepfather ruins everything. David eventually manages to find safe harbor with his eccentric aunt, but his troubles have only begun. Although the quality of the novel falls off a little once David becomes an adult, I don’t even care; the first half is one of the most beautiful, funny, brilliantly observed portrayals of the joys and sorrows of childhood that I’ve ever read.

11. The Rise and Fall of Adam and Eve by Stephen Greenblatt (2017)

Greenblatt examines the evolution and cultural significance of the story of Adam and Eve from the Bible to the modern day (but mostly it’s about Milton). I can’t speak to the scholarship of this book--I’m not an expert on the Bible or Milton or bonobos--but I do know that it’s a gorgeously written meditation on love, mortality, and free will. Greenblatt brought me a lot of joy as an unhappy teenager, and he came through for me again during the summer of 2020.

10. The Music of What Happens by Bill Konigsberg (2019)

Self-conscious seventeen-year-old Jordan is mortified when his widowed mother hires Max, an outgoing jock from his school, to help out with their struggling food truck. As they get to know each other, though, they realize that they have more in common than they thought, and they end up helping each other through a particularly challenging summer. This is an endearing, exceedingly well-balanced YA romance that tackles serious issues with a light touch and a naturalness that’s rare in the genre.

9. Red as Blood by Tanith Lee (1983)

In nine wonderfully lurid stories, Tanith Lee retells fairy tales with a dark, historically grounded, and lady-centered twist. Highlights include a medieval vampiric Snow White, a vengeful early modern Venetian Cinderella, and a Scandinavian werewolf Little Red Riding Hood. Fairy tale retellings are right up my alley, and Lee’s collection is impressively varied and creative.

8. A Room with a View by E.M. Forster (1908)

Unnerved by an impulsive make-out session with egalitarian George Emerson on a trip to Florence, young Edwardian woman Lucy Honeychurch goes way too far the other way and gets engaged to snobbish Cecil Vyse. How can she get out of this emotional and social pickle? This is an absolutely delightful romance that gave a timeless template for romantic comedies and dramas for 100-plus years.

7. My Ántonia by Willa Cather (1918)

Jim Burden, a New York City lawyer, tells the story of his friendship with slightly older Bohemian immigrant girl Ántonia when they were kids together on the late-nineteenth-century Nebraska prairie. It was a pretty pleasant time, give or take a few murders, suicides, and attempted rapes. This is one of the sweetest stories about unrequited love I’ve ever read, and it has some really enjoyable queer subtext.

6. Mister Death’s Blue-Eyed Girls by Mary Downing Hahn (2012)

In 1956 Maryland, gawky teen Nora’s peaceful existence is shattered by the unsolved murder of her friends Cheryl and Bobbi Jo right before summer vacation. Essentially left to deal with her trauma alone, she begins to question everything, from her faith in God to the killer’s real identity. Hahn delivers a beautiful coming-of-age story along with a thoughtful portrait of how a small community responds to tragedy.

5. The Lais of Marie de France by Marie de France, with translation and introduction/notes by Robert Herring and Joan Ferrante (original late 12th century, edition 1995) 

In twelve narrative poems, anonymous French-English noblewoman Marie de France spins fantastically weird tales of love, lust, and treachery. Highlights include self-driving ships, gay (?) werewolves, and more plot-significant birds than you can shake a stick at. Marie de France brings so much tenderness, delicacy, and startling humor to her stories, offering a wonderful window to the distant past.

4. Maus by Art Spiegelman (1980-1991)

In this hugely influential graphic novel/memoir, Art Spiegelman tells the story of how his Polish Jewish parents survived the Holocaust. He portrays all the characters as anthropomorphic animals; notably, the Jewish characters are mice and the Nazi Germans are cats. I read the first volume of Maus back in 2014 and, while I appreciated and enjoyed it, I didn’t get the full impact until I read both volumes together early in 2020. Spiegelman takes an intensely personal approach to his staggering subject matter, telling the story through the lens of his fraught relationship with his charismatic and affectionate, yet truly difficult father. 

3. At the Dark End of the Street by Danielle L. McGuire (2010)

McGuire looks at a seldom-explored aspect of racism in the Jim Crow South (the widespread rape and sexual harassment of black women by white men) and the essential role of anti-rape activism led by black women during the Civil Rights movement. This is a harrowing yet tastefully executed history, and it’s also a truly inspirational story of collective activism.

2. In for a Penny by Rose Lerner (2010)

Callow Lord Nevinstoke has to mature fast when his father dies, leaving him an estate hampered by debts and extremely legitimate grievances from angry tenant farmers. To obtain the necessary funds, he marries (usually!) sensible brewing heiress Penelope Brown, but they face problems that not even a sizable cash infusion can fix. This is a refreshingly political romance with a deliciously tense atmosphere and fascinating themes, as well as an almost painfully engaging central relationship.

1. Mansfield Park by Jane Austen (1814)

Fanny Price, the shy and sickly poor relation of the wealthy Bertram family, is subtly mistreated by most of her insecure and/or self-absorbed relatives, with the exception of her kind cousin Edmund. When the scandalous Crawford siblings visit the neighborhood, though, it shakes up her life for good and ill. I put off reading Mansfield Park for years--it’s practically the last bit of Austen writing that I consumed, including most of her juvenilia--and yet I think it’s my favorite. Fanny is an eminently lovable and interesting heroine, self-doubting and flawed yet possessed of a strong moral core, and the rest of the characters are equally realistic and compelling. Austen really made me think about the point of being a good person, both on a personal and a global scale.

[ourimpavidheroine]

You always post your writing soundtracks. Mind sharing your top ten albums with us?

I actually laughed when I read this because I’m thinking of the Anon who complained that all of my music was OLD. I mean. I’m old! What did you expect?

Never mind me, I’m easily amused. Thank you for using the word album so I would not feel like Lady Danbury with my lethal cane.

Yes, sure I can do that! I don’t know that these are my forever and ever amen top ten, but they are the ones that are coming to mind right now. So.

Under a cut, it’s long. 

In no particular order.

Brutal Youth - Elvis Costello

My ex-husband was in love with Elvis Costello and who could blame him? The man is a genius lyricist. This is not one of his more commercially popular albums but I love every single track. (I also lined up at Ticketmaster in Oakland, CA when the man was touring in order to get tickets for my ex. I got there at midnight and spent the night, meeting a group of drag queens who were getting tickets to see Barbara Streisand. God, that was a fun night, we ate donuts one of them went on a donut run for and sang showtunes for hours. One of my favorite memories.) This verse, from Clown Strike, is one that has resonated with me since I first heard it.

Tell me what you want of me Or are you terrified of failure? You put on a superstitious face Behind all this paraphernalia We're not living in a masquerade Where you only have three wishes It isn't easy to see In a lifetime of mistaken kisses

Unrepentant Geraldines - Tori Amos

I remember the first time I heard a Tori Amos song. It was the summer directly after I’d graduated from college, I was driving my ex-husband’s car and Silent All These Years came on the radio and I was just fucking gobsmacked. I bought Little Earthquakes that day and haven’t looked back. I have all her albums. I am a big, big fan.

Unrepentant Geraldines, though. God. It came out the year before my wife died and it got me through her death. The song Weatherman is about a man losing his wife, and how he sees her in the nature surrounding him. 

And. 

No, sorry, I can’t write more about this, not right now. But I sing it to her sometimes. 

He is not a weatherman But his bride lies with the land And she will whisper to him I'll be dressing up in snow Cloaked in echo it's almost As if only Nature knows How to paint his wife to life With every season's tone "One more look from her eyes One more look can you paint her back to life"

Ray of Light - Madonna

This album got me through my divorce from my ex-husband. I’d go out every single day during my lunch hour, this on my walkman, and walk and walk and walk until I got myself in enough control to go back and finish my work day. It’s a great album and I still listen to it a lot. It empowers me. And then my daughter was born and Ray of Light has always been her song to me, even though that wasn’t the song on the album that Madonna herself wrote for her daughter.

Faster than the speeding light she's flying Trying to remember where it all began She's got herself a little piece of heaven Waiting for the time when Earth shall be as one And I feel like I just got home And I feel And I feel like I just got home And I feel

Seven and the Ragged Tiger - Duran Duran

This one was a difficult choice. For one thing, I really love their album Big Thing, which almost nobody’s heard about but one I love deeply. This one though...I think it’s the memories, including going to see them at the Oakland Coliseum with my cousin during their tour for this album and finding out they were partially filming the video for The Reflex that night. I like to think of us as being one of those girls in the audience. (Although I wasn’t screaming. I am a Capricorn. Have some dignity.) Duran Duran were responsible for my first fanfic and I’ve had a love for them since my Dad bought me their first album for my 13th birthday. I am nothing if not loyal. I have all of their early albums, all of their 12″ singles, too, including Secret Oktober, which I have always loved with a passion.

Also, Roger Taylor can still get it.

Freefall on a windy morning shore nothing but a fading track of footsteps Could prove that you never been there Spoken on a cotton cloud like the sound of gunshot taken by the wind And lost in distant thunder racing on a shining plain And tomorrow you'll be content to watch as the lightning plays along the wires and you'll wonder

Touch - Eurythmics

Another band I still love and listen to on the regular. Annie Lennox could sing me the telephone book and I’d be thrilled. Seeing her at age 14 in the Sweet Dreams video for the first time in my Grandmother’s living room quite literally woke something in me that led to moving across the world for a woman years later. (GOD.) I have all of their albums and choosing a favorite is difficult but this one won by a narrow margin, if only for the song Regrets, which is one of the songs that describes me until I became a mother, really. Like I RESONATED with that song. Still does in certain ways, if I am being truthful to myself.

I've got a delicate mind I've got a dangerous nature And my fist collides With your furniture I've got a delicate mind I've got a dangerous nature And my fist collides With your furniture I'm an electric wire And I'm stuck inside your head

Combat Rock - The Clash

Ah, teenage Impavid first understanding that music can also be political. Listen, I didn’t know much about what was going on outside of my own miniscule sphere - I was young and the internet didn’t exist yet. We got what news we got from our local paper and TV stations and they weren’t really reporting on what was happening in the world, not in 1982, let me fucking assure you. I got this album because my Dad was a part time DJ at a radio station that played mostly country music and the general manager of the station would just toss the rest of the non-country albums they’d get as promotions. My Dad would bring them home to me to listen to. You can imagine thirteen year old me listening to this album that opened with “This is a public service announcement - with guitars!” going WHAT THE FUCK? Let me just say there were a lot of trips to the library to read various newspapers after that.

Not to mention Rock the Casbah. What was a muezzin? I had no idea. I spent half a year reading books about Islam, about the Middle East and Northern Africa, which led to a curiosity about other religions beyond the Roman Catholicism in which I’d been raised, about other cultures as well. This album and The Color Purple by Alice Walker were the two things in my teen years that woke me the fuck up.

Now the king told the boogie men You have to let that raga drop The oil down the desert way Has been shakin' to the top The sheik he drove his Cadillac He went a' cruisin' down the ville The muezzin was a' standing On the radiator grille

Synchronicity - The Police

This fucking album. This fucking album. This album reached deep down into me and pulled out my soul and kicked it around for awhile. Every single song on this album hit me like a brick wall. Still does. Most likely always will.

Listen, you either like King of Pain or you live it. There’s no in between.

There's a little black spot on the sun today It's the same old thing as yesterday There's a black hat caught in a high tree top There's a flag pole rag and the wind won't stop I have stood here before inside the pouring rain With the world turning circles running 'round my brain. I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign, But it's my destiny to be the king of pain...

Sign O’ The Times - Prince 

The soundtrack to my University days. Jesus, it starts out with “In France a skinny man died of a big disease with a little name,” and it just keeps going. Pain, sex, wonder, glory, politics, love. It’s all there. I wore the vinyl out on this one. Amazing, amazing album. In fact, I still play it so often my kids practically know it by heart, and they don’t even like Prince!

To this day I think If I Was Your Girlfriend is the sexiest song ever written.

I will tell you this much: Sayuri’s main writing soundtrack song is Starfish and Coffee off the album, the same song I used to sing my kids as a lullaby. This should tell you a lot about her.

Cynthia wore the prettiest dress With different color socks Sometimes I wondered if the mates where in her lunchbox Me and Lucy opened it when Cynthia wasn't around Lucy cried, I almost died, U know what we found? Starfish and coffee Maple syrup and jam Butterscotch clouds, a tangerine And a side order of ham If U set your mind free, honey Maybe you'd understand Starfish and coffee Maple syrup and jam

Nina Simone Sings The Blues - Nina Simone

This was one of my Daddy’s albums. He loved it and so did I. As a child I just loved the sound of her voice - something in it both soothed me and pulled at me, made me want to run and just keep running. She still makes me feel like that. If you don’t know Nina Simone I urge you to change that, right now. There’s nobody at all like her. She’s irreplaceable. All of her material is good, not just her blues songs. Not to mention, she was an absolute brilliant genius at the piano, never mind the strength she had as a Black woman in a time when doors were shut in her face on a daily basis. Seriously. Read about her.

When I became a woman, of course, her songs took on a much deeper meaning for me, one that I could relate to. Isn’t that the hallmark of a good album, though? One that stays with you and changes with you? I think so.

If you’ve never heard her cover of I Put A Spell On You then do yourself a favor and go right now and listen. You’re welcome.

Oh and Buck from this album? Nuo to Wing, right there.

Also one of the sexiest songs ever written, this one. Especially how she sings it. The Hot Frenchman (have I ever told you about The Hot Frenchman? no? OH BOY THERE’S A STORY) told me he thought it was about drugs and I was like, honey, this tells me a whole lot about you, more than you probably wanted it to.

I want a little sugar In my bowl I want a little sweetness Down in my soul I could stand some lovin' Oh so bad I feel so funny and I feel so sad I want a little steam On my clothes Maybe I can fix things up So they'll go Whatsa matter Daddy Come on, save my soul I need some sugar in my bowl I ain't foolin' I want some sugar in my bowl

I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got - Sinéad O’Connor

This is a beautiful album, full of pain and joy, her hallmark. She sings every single word with everything in her; she’s far too intense for many, many people (and while she’s been open with her mental health struggles I’ve often wondered if she isn’t somewhere on the spectrum as well) but never for me. Her raw honesty has always appealed to me. She’s political, she’s a lover, a mother, a survivor of horrific abuse, someone who keeps reinventing herself as a way to find her way through pain. I always feel, when I am listening to her music, that I am bearing witness. I’m not afraid of pain; I’ve survived it as well. This album, one of her oldest, is still my favorite.

The line “You used to hold my hand when the plane took off” is the most evocative lyric I have ever heard with regards to the ending of love. It’s a punch to the heart - she felt it and she shared it with us, her fragile heart in her palms. Oh, Sinéad.

This is the last day of our acquaintance I will meet you later in somebody's office I'll talk but you won't listen to me I know what your answer will be I know you don't love me anymore You used to hold my hand when the plane took off Two years ago there just seemed so much more And I don't know what happened to our love

[stanzoeywade]

Queen B Mamma Mia AU pt.1

Taglist: @somewillwin @belvoiresqueenbee @origmansello @clownery-is-a-new-personality @kamilahtrash @poppysminion @poppysimp @minsinclair-lee @poppysmc @iiizdumb @uselesslesbianfr @scattered-to-the-winds @idiot-justidiot @toyhenoctus @begoniathotia @otakufangirl-12 @malvinghlein

Summary: This will be based off the sequel so yeah. Enjoy. Hopefully I do this AU justice lmaooo. This first part will be Chloe St.James centric where she will be the character Harry.

First of all I headcanon Chloe to look like Chloe Grace Moretz, because they kinda look the same with their facial structure and nose shape. You don't have to agree, I'm just saying lol.

•Everything starts with you graduating from Belvoire University. Zoey and Penelope as your two best friends, and as a way of wanting freedom, you decide to go around the world in hopes of finding somewhere to settle down.

• Your first stop is Paris, France - also known as the fashion capital as well as being the famous city of love. You immediately fall for the sights that Paris has to offer, it's beautiful, you can't help but think.

• You stumble your way into a hostel tucked away in a small corner of Paris. You're ringing the bell waiting for a concierge but no one comes, so you decide to go behind the counter to get a key for a room. I mean who's gonna turn down the chance to get a free room amirite?

• This is when you meet Chloe, who's dressed in nothing but a bathrobe. Hair wet and dripping on the staircase. The two of you make eye contact and she immediately tries to explain in broken French and English. You just look at her in amusement, having to bite your lower lip to prevent yourself from laughing. "Je voudrais une spare key, s'il vous plaît." she says desperately hoping you understand. "Je suis locked out ma chambre." she pleads.

• Your eyebrows raise in amusement and you can't help but tease her. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite understand. Can you please repeat that?." you say in English. She quickly repeats her broken French until she realises, and she stares at you with a deadpan expression.

• "I don't work here." you quickly explain. She looks at you, curiosity present in those big blue eyes. "I'm gonna call the police." she chides, as to remove the awkward tension. You're quick to say "Please don't." and she just laughs and says "Yeah, I don't think they'll understand my French anyway."

• You quickly check her out, and you're instantly attracted, 'She looks really cute, and she's very sweet too.' - you think to yourself. Chloe also checks you out and thinks 'She's really pretty, I hope she isn't dating anyone. Maybe I have a chance?'

• The two of you decide to tour around Paris together, and you're immediately charmed by Chloe, she's so very nice, albeit naive but she's very charming in her awkward way.

• Chloe's in the same boat, she didn't think that she could fall this fast, but you're a welcome surprise, she loves how you listen and play along with her whenever she has weird thoughts. The two of you find each other very attractive, and it's obvious judging by your long stares and lingering touches.

• "Would it be okay if you hold your bag using your other arm?" she asks meekly. You're confused and you say "Sure, but why?" You notice that she looks shy, cheeks flushed as she stares at the ground. "It's so I can hold your hand" she says in a quiet voice.

• Your heart soars because how can leather jacket wearing "bad girl" Chloe be so fucking cute. You're immediately charmed and you oblige by holding her hand as you walk through the streets of Paris.

• The two of you make your way to a small French restaurant, and despite its outside appearance, you're surprised by how cozy it looks on the inside. You sit across from Chloe, who looks at you with an intense gaze you can feel like she's staring at your soul.

• You learn a lot about Chloe and she's quick to open up to you. It's the same for you though, she makes you feel at ease and even though you've only known each other for a few hours, you can already see yourself trusting her. You tell her about your dream of finding that one place you can call home, and you tell her of your plan to go to Greece someday.

Play Waterloo.

• "What do you think about sleeping together?" she says tentatively, and you choke on your water. "Well aren't you forward" you say playfully. She looks at you and pulls out her guitar, where she starts to play and sing, serenading you. You're surprised by how well she can sing and you can't help but blush.

• You stop her from singing, and she's quick to explain why. "You would be my first" she says quietly and you don't believe her. "You can't be serious, Chloe have you seen yourself? You're lying right?" you say suspicious, but Chloe just looks at you sincerely as she says "There's a lot of advantages of us sleeping together and it will be a win-win situation. I'm also being serious, you'll be my first. It's mad but I think I like you."

• By the end of the night the two of you go to her room, where you spend the night.

NSFW CUT

• As soon as you get to her room at the end of the night, you quickly kiss her gently, as to not overwhelm her. You ask "Are you sure you want to do this Chloe?" and she nods her head as she says "I've never been so sure."

• It starts slow and gentle, where both of you gently caress each other's body, reveling at the soft skin under your touch. You can't help but want to kiss Chloe senseless, especially with that soft expression on her face.

• You slowly start to begin undressing her, tugging on her jacket and quickly taking her shirt off. You can't help but stare at her as you whisper "Beautiful". Her milky white skin looks soft and unblemished, especially with the light shining on her, making it seem like a halo was adorning the top of her head, due to her platinum blonde hair. Your breath is taken away, and you're slowly pulled back to reality when she kisses you again.

• "It's not fair if I'm the only one stripped down to my underwear." she says voice husky from desire. She takes her time undressing you as if opening a present. She kisses each patch of skin that she unravels, her kisses trailing down your neck to your breasts.

• You whine at her soft kisses, and you pull her face towards your lips, kissing her as your hands move downwards to her stomach. She shudders at your touch, and your hands go lower until they find the inside of her thighs.

• You pull at the fabric of her underwear, pulling it down, and Chloe gasps into the kiss, and you pull away to kiss her neck, sucking and biting to leave marks, Chloe's soft whimpers and moans being music to your ears.

• You start to tease her clit, adding pressure using your fingers. Her eyes are glossy, filled with lust as her hips jerk forward wanting more friction. "Rosie, please I need you inside." she pleads desperately. You comply and slide your index and middle fingers inside. She groans at the contact and slightly jerks her hips forward. Your thumb brushes against her clit, which earns you yet another moan.

• You want to hear more so you thrust your fingers in and out slowly, to make sure that she gets used to the movement first. As soon as you feel her inner walls clench around your fingers, you can't help the groan that comes out your mouth as you say "Fuck Chloe, you're so tight." You start to thrust faster and Chloe lets out a wail in pleasure, her body shuddering as you find her g-spot. She's close to cumming, and you can tell because she's lost control of her upper body, which means that she has to lean forward to you for support. She climaxes with a silent moan, body glistening with sweat making her glow and you've never seen anything so hot.

• After Chloe comes down from her high, you kiss her softly and ask "Did that feel as good as it looked?" Her cheeks are still flushed and her breathing is still shaky, and all she can do is nod her head as a response.

• The two of you just bask in the afterglow, cuddling together as Chloe starts pillow talk. "That was nice, it was more than nice actually." she rambles on and you find her oh so very cute at this moment. "Was that okay for you?" she asks shyly, and your response is a soft smile as you say "It was lovely, I had a great time."

• The next day Chloe wakes up to a note by the drawer next to bed and it reads "Thank you for last night, Chloe, that was amazing. I'm sorry for saying goodbye through a note, but I feel like amazing things are waiting for me."

• She immediately gets up out of bed and runs to the airport getting herself a spot on the next flight to Greece.

• As she gets there, she sees you with another woman on a boat, leaving the dock, and her heart is immediately left broken. "Why did I have to fall for you, Rosie Hughes?" she whispers, voice breaking as she sees your figure disappear off into the distance.

Hi, hi everyone this is the first part of the AU, hopefully I did it justice, as always don't forget to like or reblog. (I read the tags when you guys reblog and it always makes me happy when I see that you just enjoyed what I wrote.) The next part will be about Veronica as Bill. 🥺💋 I hope you enjoyed reading. 💕

[lu-undy]

Chapter 73 - SBT

Here it is!

There was a knock on the van's backdoor. 

"Come in, Mundy."

The Aussie pushed the door and entered.

"I'm back, luv', and I have it. Feels weird to carry a credit card for some money that's not mine… Also, how well did they pay back in France?! When the banker told me how much it was, I nearly fell off my chair!"

Mundy shut the door and turned to his lover. 

"Oh, crikey…" 

"How do I look…?"

Lucien had put on one of his suits again but this time, there was no tie and the shirt had been replaced with a thin woolen turtleneck. Moreover, he had tied his hair in a braid. Some of the grey, thin locks of hair at the front fell between his eyes beautifully. 

"You're gorgeous." 

Lucien smiled as Mundy came closer and held his waist.

"And I trimmed my beard a bit. I look odd to myself, but if you like it, I shall make a habit of this style." 

Mundy turned around and touched the braid. 

"Gosh, you… You're perfect… And, mmh, yeah, you're wearin' your perfume again, eh?"

"Oui, I am."

"You're really back…!" Mundy hugged his lover tightly but another knock interrupted them.

They were back in the city now for Mundy to collect Lucien's money, which was now his. Maurice had done an impeccable job and it had all gone smoothly. 

"Who's that?" Mundy asked. 

"Who do you think?" 

Mundy and Lucien looked at each other with a smile. It was Maurice's voice. 

"Hold on, mate." 

Mundy exited the van, with Lucien behind him. 

"Good to see you again, both of you." Maurice said and hands were shaken. 

"G'day, mate." 

"Merci, Maurice."

[Thanks, Maurice.] 

"Quite a change of style you have gone through, L." 

"Oui, it is both necessary and appreciated." Lucien's eyes went to Mundy. 

"It suits you indeed. One of the boys spotted your van, M. I thought I could drop by and say hi in person." 

"Sure, thanks. How's the street doin'?" 

"Cold with this winter, but good. We still manage to feed everyone and bring some warmth."

"That's nice." Mundy answered. 

"Oh, I nearly forgot, I have something for you, L. Here… This is your new passport, with the name that you wrote in your will."

"He didn't write any new names in his will." Mundy said, surprised.

"I did." Lucien answered and he accepted the Burgundy red document with the golden letters. "You just did not see it."

"What?" Mundy asked. 

"I will explain later. But thank you very much, Maurice, as always."

"My pleasure."

"Who are my witnesses?" Lucien asked. 

"Witnesses?" Mundy repeated. 

"Yes, for a will to be taken seriously, it must be written and co-signed by two witnesses." Maurice answered. "I am one of them, Richard is the second."

"Did you tell him?" Lucien asked. 

"I told him that Paris wanted a coffee with two sugars and a drop of milk. The next thing I knew, he was lying on the floor in his shop and both his sons were trying to wake him up." Maurice chuckled. 

"Ah, I should apologise…!" Lucien answered, chuckling himself. 

"No, it is fine. He was as delighted as I was when M told me. Oh and by the way, you are welcome to work with him and give a hand with the homeless of course." 

"Thank you." Lucien answered. "But we have a few things to do before we can come to work, is that fine with you?" 

"Absolutely, take your time and again, welcome back to the world of the living." 

"Thank you." 

Maurice and Lucien exchanged a nod. 

"Good. I shall go back to my streets, there are mouths to feed and work to do." Maurice said. "I will see you later." 

"Sure, mate, thanks for everythin', really." 

"No problem." 

Hands were shaken again and Maurice disappeared in the streets, melting with them like a shadow. 

"So, what's the plan?" Mundy asked. 

"We could go and get some lunch if you want."

"Sure, where?"

"Victoria's diner." Lucien answered and Mundy smiled and nodded. 

"Alright. Let me just make sure the cats have enough to eat and drink."

"I shall take Perle and Soot with us. I will put him in Perle's old harness and leash." 

"Sure." 

A few minutes later, Perle was on Mundy's shoulders and Soot was trotting happily by Lucien. 

"Non, Soot, sit. Très bien. We need to wait until the little man is green before we cross. Non, non, non, do not raise your hand like this and tempt the devil. You stay sat." 

"Meow." Soot was trying to move forward. 

"Sooty boy, watch the wifey here." Mundy put Perle down and she sat by the black cat patiently.

"There, good boy, Soot." Lucien praised him. 

The light switched to green for pedestrians. Perle looked up at Mundy who started crossing and followed him. Soot copied her. He looked up at Lucien and when the man started crossing, he did the same. 

A few minutes later, they arrived in front of Victoria's diner.

"You ready?" Mundy asked. 

"Yes, I am. I hope she is too." 

They exchanged a smile and Mundy pushed the door open. 

"Hello, how may I help? Oh, hey M! And Pearl. Who's this new friend you're bringin'...?" 

Lucien was a metre away, giving his back with his silver braid to them while Victoria knelt down to look at Soot. 

"That's Soot, he's Pearl's hubby."

"Ooh, congrats, Pearl!" Victoria petted her and the white, fluffy cat purred. "The hubby's quite shy, eh?"

Soot was hiding behind Mundy's legs. 

"Yeah, a bit." Mundy answered. "Sorry about that."

"Well at least he's not hissin'...!" Victoria chuckled. "How have you been, M? You seem so much happier than last time!"

"Not too bad, and busy, the cats got four kids together."

"Seriously? You had kittens?" 

"Yeah, lots of energy they have, but they're growin' up nicely." 

"Aw, that's super cute." Victoria stood up again. "Came here for some lunch?" 

"Yes and no, there's uh… There's something I need to admit… Uh…" Mundy scratched the back of his neck. 

"Oh? What is it?" 

"Uhm, I don't know how to say that but uh… Y'know what, come and sit at the table." 

Victoria sat down. 

"You're not joining?" She asked. 

"Well, I need to re-introduce someone to you - bloody hell that's so weird to say…" Mundy put his hands on Lucien's shoulders, who was still giving his back to Victoria.

"What d'you mean, re-introduce?" 

"He means that I am back." Lucien turned and faced her as she gasped and smacked a hand in front of her mouth. 

"What the fuck?! L?! Is that you?! You're dead!"

"Non, I am not. I am standing here in front of you." He opened his arms proudly. 

"You piece of shit!" Victoria rose from her chair and slapped him with the towel she was carrying around repeatedly. "You! Kept me! Thinking! You! Were! Dead! For! More! Than! A! Year! You absolute! Piece! Of! Shit!"

Lucien closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her. She buried her head in his chest and both him and Mundy could hear muffled sobbing. 

"I missed you, you arrogant idiot…" 

"And I missed you too, terribly, Victoria." He kissed the top of her head as she cried against him. He could feel she was clinging to his jacket. "I am sorry to have put all of you through that. But I had no choice."

"It's worse than that, V." Mundy said, patting her back to comfort her. "He was there at his own funeral and he heard what you said." 

She gasped and pulled out of the embrace, wiping her tears on the towel. 

"That's just plain cheatin', L."

"Lucien." 

"What?" 

"My name, it is Lucien, you may call me by my name, mi niña."

[My child]

She stared up at him as if he was Jesus Christ himself.

"I missed you so much." She put a hand on her mouth.

"I know, I know, come here." Lucien led her to sit at their table on the banquette next to him. He wrapped an arm around her to comfort her and gently rocked her left and right while her tears continued to stream silently on her cheeks. She sniffed from time to time and wiped her face on her towel. Mundy went to the counter to place their order and came back, sitting on the banquette opposite them. 

"So you didn't die?" She asked.

"Non."

"What happened?" 

"As you now know, I worked as a spy and to escape a certain death, I had to die and wait for things to calm down before I could show myself again."

"Did you beat him up for it?" She asked Mundy. 

"Nah, can't do it anymore now for some reason." Mundy chuckled. 

"You should have. You're growin' soft, M. And this man…" She pointed her index on Lucien's chest, poking it and staring at it fiercely. "This man needs to be taught a lesson or two…" She then bent forward and let her head fall on Lucien's chest again. He hugged her tightly and stroked her hair. 

"I apologise, Victoria, but had I done that, I would not be here today." 

"You could have said. You could have written to me… You could have…" She sobbed again. "Now I need to cancel something important." She said and Lucien and Mundy's eyebrows jumped. 

"Cesar salad, and two fish and chips." A waiter came and put everything on the table. "You ok, V?"

"Yeah, she's cryin' cause she's happy, cheers mate." Mundy answered.

"Alright…" The waiter left them alone. 

"So what is this important thing that you need to cancel because of my return? Did you have to go and have lunch with someone else?" Lucien asked. 

"No…" Victoria pulled herself away from him and wiped her face again. She looked at Mundy and then at Lucien. "I'm… I'm gettin' married to my fiancé Charlie in a few months and uh… I didn't have anyone to walk me down the aisle but…" 

Mundy's jaw dropped and Lucien blushed intensely. 

"Would you… Would you please do it for me?" She raised her red, slightly swollen eyes to him and Lucien felt hot all of a sudden with the pressure that fell on his shoulders.

"I… I would be honoured to do so but… Why me?" 

"Charlie. I met him at a party and then… The reason we dated was thanks to you." 

"Me?" 

"Yeah, you helped me with my spanish so much that I progressed enough to be in the same classes as him… That's how we then started hangin' out and all. And then the free dinners you got us for the Queen Victoria, I went there with him… It's all cause of you…" 

Lucien's eyes couldn't be open wider.

"Mon Dieu…"

"As you know, I don't have a dad, so I didn't have anyone to walk me down the aisle in church. I asked Joe from the corner shop to do it, to feel less lonely but… But you should be the one doin' it… So please…"

Lucien's eyes were glistening with the tears he was holding back. 

"O-of course I accept, it would be my honour to do this for you, Victoria…" He pulled her in a fatherly hug and closed his eyes. "When is the wedding exactly, we need to get some new suits. Is there anything I can help with? Tell me and do not think about the money, I will get it sorted out for you, mon enfant." 

[My child]

Mundy softened in a sweet smile. So that was the kind of father that Lucien was, hm?

"I should meet your fiancé. Look, let us know when and where and I shall have a chat with him. I can't let you get married to just anyone, I need to know. Where is he from? His family? Does he still have his parents, what do they work as?" 

Victoria laughed in Lucien's arms. 

"What? I am worried for you, Victoria. It is out of the question to just let you get married to someone you cannot properly build anything with!"

She laughed louder and pulled him into a hug. 

"I missed you so much… Papa L…" 

Lucien looked at Mundy with tears in his eyes. 

"Hey, don't look at me like that, luv'. It's your daughter there, not mine." 

"And you are my everything, Mundy, so she is your daughter as much as she is mine!" 

"What?! Nah, that's not how it works! Also, when you're gonna meet the bloke, I'll just stay with the cats in the van."

"Why?" 

"Remember we're two blokes, that's not exactly normal, eh?" Mundy said, feeding some bits of fish to the cats. 

"Oh, don't worry about it. He knows for L and you." Victoria said. 

"What?! How?! You told him?" Mundy turned as red as a brick in a flash. 

"Nah, I didn't. I think most people who were at the funeral understood, M." Victoria answered. 

"Ah… W-well… I mean…" 

Lucien looked down at Victoria. 

"Let us have some lunch and you can tell us all about this Charlie of yours, hm?" 

"Yeah, thank you so much." She pushed herself to leave a kiss on Lucien's cheek. "You're the best!"

He smiled and left his arms around her shoulders. 

"I am indeed."

"Lu'!"

"L!"

"Meow!"

"Meow!"

-- Later that day --

"Where to now?" Mundy asked.

"To Richard. I need to thank him. Also, let us go to a bakery first, I need to buy something for him." 

"Okay."

"Any good bakeries you would recommend, mon loup?"

[My wolf?]

"Yeah, I know one, let's go." 

They walked through the streets, followed by both cats. 

"Lu', look at the cats." 

Lucien looked back and smiled. They were brushing themselves against each other and lacing their tails together, purring happily. 

"I am happy that she found someone to pur with." Lucien said. 

"Yeah, they're cute."

"I cannot help but think about how much bigger she is now… I remember when she used to fit in my hand, when she bit me on the first night we met, how she held onto my hand…"

"Nostalgic?"

"Partly."

"Partly?" Mundy asked and they stopped at a crossroad.

"Oui. Those were days where Perle was nothing but a baby but at the same time, those were days where I could only dream of approaching you." 

"What? Gonna make me believe that you were shy?" Mundy smiled. 

"Not shy." The light turned to green and both cats looked up at their masters. The family crossed the street. 

"What then?"

"I was as scared as you were shy." 

"Scared? Do I look scary?" Mundy asked and Lucien gave him one of those looks. "Nope, shush, don't answer." 

Lucien smirked. 

"But what were you scared of? That I'd say no?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Mundy. No one has ever said non to me so far." 

The Aussie rolled up his eyes with a smile. 

"Figured… But tell me, why?" 

"Because I knew I was going to my death. I know what it means to lose the person that you live and breathe for, and I didn't want you to go through that." 

They took a turn and the cats happily followed, still trotting on their heels. 

"Well, good job, you did it anyway in the end, eh?"

"Because of you." Lucien answered. 

"Me?" 

"Oui. You were the one to insist that I should confess my feelings to the man I held in my heart. And here we are."

"Gonna complain?"

"Non, of course not." They chuckled and Mundy pushed the bakery door. "Go ahead, I'll wait with the cats outside."

"Fine, I won't be long." 

"Okay," And as Lucien passed in front of Mundy, the Aussie murmured. "Love you, darl, you're gorgeous…" 

Lucien's cheeks turned pink and his eyes brightened up. 

"Moi aussi, mon loup."

[Me too, my wolf.]

Mundy stayed outside and petted the cats while waiting for Lucien and it took the Frenchman a few minutes before he exited the bakery again, a beautifully decorated bag in his hand.

"You were quick."

Lucien smirked.

"Don't give me that look, you know how long I can be in other contexts…"

Mundy's cheeks popped red.

"Lu'...!"

The Frenchman chuckled and they resumed their walk. Within minutes, they were in front of Richard's shop. 

"Right, let's go." 

Mundy pushed the door.

"Good afternoon gentlem- oh! L! M!" 

"And the fluffy P and S." Mundy added, pointing at the cats. Richard dropped his notebook and ran to shake their hands.

"I am delighted to see you both again! And what a change of style! Oh, I need to make something for you both, for your return, L - non! I will not accept any kind of negotiation, this will be a welcome back gift! Paul! Come here!"

Richard's sons both came out of the workshop and after shaking hands with Lucien and Mundy, their father instructed them. 

"Take a good look at these two new men…!" The tailor with the impeccable white moustache started. "Look at this one. He now stands tall, not slouched like before, he has found peace and confidence in himself, he isn't hiding behind a thick mane of hair anymore…" Richard inspected Mundy closely before turning to Lucien. "And here! Oh mon Dieu here! Here is the man that we all dream to be, if not for the hero he is, then for his silhouette, sculpted out of marble with godly proportions! Boys, we need something refreshing, nothing tactical, non! We need something for a sweeter, more calm life. Look at the beard! Where some people see a lack of effort, I see the beginning of a work of art! And this long hair…! M! Take notes! This is poetry! This is romance! This is beauty! Not only are the colours exquisite to the eye but the braid is fantastic! I take it you did it yourself, L?" 

"Oui, I did." 

"The work of an artist… But sorry, I got carried away, pray take a seat…"

Lucien and Mundy sat on the armchair and the cats went each on their lap, Soot went to Mundy and Perle, to her Papa. 

"What brings you here?" 

Lucien handed the plastic bag to Richard. 

"My will and my duty to thank you, Richard." He answered. 

"What for?" Richard accepted the bag and peeked in. 

"For being a witness to my will. I understand the risk that you willingly put yourself in and the least I can do is to thank you." 

"L, this is nothing compared to what you have done and given all these years, please!"

"Richard, non, this is a great risk you are taking, and you have a wife and children… You are making them take a risk with you."

"I always have. Being an informant for the secret services isn't an innocent job, it never had been, so non, really, it is nothing. When Maurice came to me and told me about you, I offered to help before he could even tell me the details."

"Thank you, and please, accept the content of this bag and share it with the family for me." 

Richard looked inside. 

"Oh! I need to hide it from my wife, if she finds this cake, she will never let me have it!"

The gentlemen chuckled around the coffee table. 

"By the way, who is this new cat you have?" Richard asked.

"This is Soot." Lucien answered and he scratched his head. 

"He's Pearl's mate, they're pretty serious." Mundy added.

"Are they?" Richard asked. 

"Yeah, they got four lovely kids." Mundy explained. "Two girls and two boys, they're growin' up nicely. You wouldn't want one by any chance?" 

"A cat?"

"Still kittens, but yeah."

"I will have to discuss it with my wife even though she has always asked me to adopt a pet." Richard answered.

"Ah, then we would be delighted to gift you one of them." Lucien added. 

"Raised them like I did Pearl and Soot. They've got good manners, they're cuddly and still very playful as they're very young. Give it a thought, eh, Richard?" 

"Will do, I promise."

"Which one would you take?" Lucien asked. "We have Diamond and Star, the girls, and Glovy, the boy." 

"Didn't you say there were four?" Richard asked. 

"Oui, but there is one I will gift to someone else, if you see no issue." Lucien answered.

"Of course, of course."

"But yes, Diamond is black with a diamond-shaped white patch on her face, she also has a white fluffy chest. Star is also black but has a white star-shaped patch on her… Well…"

"On her butt." Mundy said. "She's got a white star on her thigh, close to her butt. And Glovy, the little boy, he's a fat one, we're trying to put him on a diet but eh, hard to stop that greedy fluff ball." 

"Quite so, I will see with the missus but she surely would like a lady. There are too many of us men at home, you see?" Richard chuckled. 

"Fair enough, thank you again, Richard." Lucien stood up and put Perle on his shoulders before shaking the tailor's hand. 

"My pleasure, as always. And I am delighted for you two." Richard winked at Mundy and the tall man blushed. He put Soot on his shoulders and headed out of the shop. 

"Where should I send the clothes?" Richard asked. 

"We will let you know whenever we can." Lucien answered. "Thank you." 

"Have a nice day!"

"To you too, mate." 

-- Evening that day -- 

There was a knock on the van's backdoor.

"Come in, love." 

"Bonsoir, mon amour." 

[Good evening, my love.]

Lucien walked in the van and the cats trotted out. 

"Be careful, cats!" Mundy said. 

"Don't worry, Perle and Soot are remarkable parents." Lucien removed his coat and sat on the sofa next to his lover. 

"So, what did you get us for dinner?" Mundy looked at Lucien's hands repeatedly but couldn't see anything in them. 

"I got you something more than just to fill your hungry stomach." Lucien answered, slithering closer to his lover. 

"Where?" Mundy took Lucien's hands and looked at them. Nothing. "Can you at least meet my… uh… hungry lips?" Mundy blushed and Lucien laced his fingers with the Aussie's.

"Listen to you being flirty… That's new…" He leaned to meet his lover's demand. 

"I-I'm tryin'... Feels weird to hear myself say stuff like that. It's like it's not me…" 

"You are doing remarkably well, mon loup." Lucien whispered and his lips finally met Mundy's.

[midwinterblinder]

Will you help me?

A/N: I’m sorry this took ages and that it’s not that good. The next chapter will have more Tommy and Y/N interactions, I promise. Anyway, I hope you still somewhat like it and feel free to let met know what you think

Chapter 17: Some time apart

Tommy’s thumb halts its movements over Y/N’s skin but his eyes franticly move between hers to get a sense of what she’s thinking. “She told me the day after it happened. Said that she was right after all; that you’d left me and found her.” Her eyes move to their joined hands again. “We weren’t together and I don’t blame you for sleeping with someone else, but it still hurt.”

Tommy sighs deeply as he tightens his grip on her hand slightly. “I’m sorry.” He breaths out as he reaches one of his hands to her face and gently cups her cheek so he can get her to look at him again. He clenches his jaw when he sees her eyes get watery. He hurt her, he just keeps hurting her.

“Please tell me you paid her for it?” Y/N pleads softly as she places her free hand on the wrist of the hand that’s cupping her cheek, her other hand firmly holding on to his on the table. She has always told herself that he must have paid for it, that he wouldn’t sleep with Lizzie because he wanted her, and she doesn’t think she’ll be able to cope if she finds out he didn’t pay for it. That means he wanted Lizzie and if that’s the truth than she’s not sure she can stay with him. But she wants to stay with him, she never wants to leave him again, so she desperately needs him to tell her that he paid for it.

Tommy is slightly taken aback by her question. “Of course I paid her for it.” He tells her and she’s relieved that he even sounds somewhat offended that she would ever think otherwise. “Fuck.” He breaths out as he rests his forehead against hers and closes his eyes. He hates that she even has to ask him that. She has no idea what she means to him and he can’t blame her, not after he pushed her away like he did. But he needs her to understand, so he creates enough space between them that he can look her in the eyes and moves both of his hands to the back of her neck to make sure she looks at him. “I’m yours, Y/N. I have always been and will always be yours.” He tells her and he has to swallow when he sees the first tear escape her eyes. “Even when we weren’t together I was still yours.”

Y/N can no longer stop her tears and if her vision wasn’t so blurry she would have seen Tommy’s eyes get watery as well. She can’t believe their relationship has come to the point where she would have to ask Tommy a question like that, but she needed to know he hadn’t somehow developed feelings for Lizzie. Of course she’s still not happy he slept with Lizzie, but they weren’t together so she really can’t hold that against him.

Tommy pulls her into his chest as best as he can with the two of them on different chairs. He squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to force back his own tears at seeing her so upset. “I’m sorry.” He tells her again. He hasn’t said the word sorry once since he came back from France, but now it seems to be the only thing he can say as he buries his face in her hair and mutters apology after apology.

*****

Tommy feels exhausted as he walks towards Johnny. He had sat with Y/N for a long time after their conversation yesterday evening and she told him she didn’t blame him for sleeping with someone else while they were broken up, but he still feels like an asshole for what he did especially now he has seen how much it hurt her. Afterwards he had hoped to stay the night, because he hated the thought of leaving her alone in that state, but she had told him she needed some time alone to get her thoughts in order.

He has to make it up to her somehow, but if everything goes as planned he’ll have the rest of their shared lives to do so. As he thinks about that his fingers briefly brush over his pocket with the little box in it, but now is not the time to be thinking of that. He needs to sort out the mess he has gotten into first, which is why he asked Johnny Dogs to arrange a meeting with Queen Mary. The meeting goes surprisingly well and Tommy walks away with a new alliance under his belt.

At home he runs into Polly who hands him the address of Stanly Chapman, a known communist. Now all there’s left to do is meet with Campbell to offer him the deal: Chapman’s address in exchange for a free pass out of the city for his sister and Freddie. He is just about to head out of the betting shop when he’s stopped by Lovelock.

“Tommy, wait.” Lovelock calls as he sees his boss is about to leave. He makes his way towards Tommy, who has turned around and gives him a questioning look. “I have the information you asked for. His war records, what he’s doing now, even his address.” Lovelock says as he hands Tommy a folder. “It’s all in there.”

Tommy nods slowly as he realises why Lovelock stopped him. “Thank you.” He tells the other man, who simply nods before walking away to get on with the rest of his work. Tommy knows he has to go to meet with Campbell, but he can’t resist taking a quick look in the folder to finally get to know the name of the man that traumatised Y/N. The name on the military file is Frank Walker and Tommy’s free hand clenches into a fist as he looks at the picture of the man that is attached to the file. He feels his anger rising as he thinks of what this man did to Y/N in France and he plans to pay him a visit very soon.

*****

Y/N watches in amusement as Arthur counts money next to her in the office of The Garrison. He counts out loud and has to start over whenever he gets distracted, which is quite a lot since Grace has the tendency to interrupt his counting with questions and today is no different. “These cigarettes have a strange smell, Arthur. They smell like rotting water and look, rats have gotten to some of them.” The barmaid says as she makes her way into the office and hands a pack of cigarettes to Arthur. “They’re stolen, are they not?” Grace dares to ask and Y/N briefly glances up at the barmaid as the bad feeling she had about the woman comes back up.

Arthur tries to brush her off, but she keeps asking questions. “Can one of you two check my adding up, please.” He says in the hopes of getting out of the conversation and out of having to count everything again. Grace goes to help him before Y/N gets the chance to and she continues to pry into the business as she scribbles onto the paper.

Y/N carefully notes her questions and the answers Arthur gives her. Grace asks about the warehouses and Arthur happily tells her that they have warehouses near junctions in the river so they can ship products in by boat and get out in several directions if the police ever shows up. She also can’t help but notice the expensive earrings Grace is wearing and she once again wonders what this woman is doing in a pub in Birmingham.

Another thing Y/N can’t help but notice is that Tommy hasn’t been around to see her yet. Arthur told her that they got their first legal racetrack pitch earlier and she expected Tommy to come and tell her about it at some point during the day, but she hasn’t seen him since they talked about Lizzie the other day. She understands why he stays away though. After all, she asked him to leave after she calmed down, told him she needed some time to herself.

She says goodbye to Grace at the end of the day and heads to Watery Lane in the hope of catching Tommy but he’s not in, so she drinks tea with Polly who is elated with their legal licence. “I can’t believe he’s actually done it.” Polly shakes her head with a smile.

“Well you know how he is.” Y/N says as she weakly returns the smile Polly now fixes on her. “If he wants something he’ll get it, no matter what it takes.”

Polly nods in agreement. “I doubt it’ll be long before he goes after the next thing he wants.” The older woman says as she watches Y/N take a sip. She could tell Tommy has been more on edge the past few days and she knows it’s no coincidence that Tommy’s tenseness has coincided with Y/N’s absence. She doesn’t know why Y/N hasn’t been around but takes it as a good sign that the younger woman came over tonight.

“And what would that be?” Y/N asks as she looks up from her cup of tea to catch Polly’s gaze. She has a feeling that she knows what Polly is about to say, but she wants Polly to be the one to say it so she knows it’s not just in her mind.

“Oh you know what I mean.” Polly says with a fond smile. She adores Y/N, she always has, and she knows Y/N will be good for Tommy. “You of course.” She says when it becomes clear that Y/N is not going to say anything. “I have a feeling you’ll be family very soon.”

Polly watches in amazement as Y/N’s eyes get watery and she reaches across the table for Polly’s hand. “Do you really think so? And don’t just say yes because you want it to be true.” Y/N slightly squeezes Polly’s hand. Her emotions are still running high after her talk with Tommy the other day and she has to blink a few times to stop the tears from rolling down her cheek. “Only say yes if you honestly think he wants to be with me.” She’s still unsure about it and desperately needs someone to tell her if whatever she has with Tommy has a future, because he may have told her that he loves her but he hasn’t said it since that one time and now he didn’t even come to tell her the good news about their licence.

“Of course he wants to be with you.” Polly exclaims in disbelief. “How can you still doubt how that man feels about you?” She adds as she places her free hand on top of Y/N’s. “He adores you, Y/N.” Polly bites her lip to stop herself from telling Y/N about the ring she found when she went to see if Tommy had any laundry in his room. She wants to tell Y/N, especially now that she sees how unsure the younger woman is about her relationship with Tommy, but she knows Tommy wouldn’t want her to and she wants the two to sort out their problems themselves.

*****

“I need someone.” Tommy says to Grace as they sit next to each other in the church. “Kimber has an advisor by the name of Roberts. He talks well, keeps the accounts. Runs the legal side of the business.” He explains.

“And you need a Roberts.” Grace answers and their conversation goes back and fort for a bit, until Tommy is done and calls her out on lying to him.

“First you lied to me about that pub you used to work in. Now I find out you’re a protestant.” He states. He wants this conversation to be over as soon as possible, so he can go to Y/N’s place. He didn’t have the chance to meet her earlier in the day and he’s pretty sure Arthur already told her about the licence, but he wants to talk to her about it anyway. Besides, he has several other things he wants to talk to her about as well. “You know that most of what I do is illegal.”

Grace smiles slightly. “I’m not blind.” She tells him, and though she sounds nonchalant enough she has to admit that being this close to him makes her nervous.

“And yet you’d still be willing to work for me?” He asks as he fully turns to face her. He can tell that Grace is smart and he could use a head like hers to keep the books balanced.

“Are you offering me the job?” She answers his question with a question of her own and Tommy scoffs. “Then I accept.” She adds as she leans into him slightly and gives him a slightly flirty smile. She’s not sure what she’s doing, but he’s so close and there’s something so attractive about him that she can’t help it.

All it does is makes Tommy’s eyes grow even colder as he stands up and starts walking down the aisle. “Tomorrow I’ll show you around.” He says as he leaves her alone in the church. It’s not the first time that he has noticed Grace acting like that around him and he scoffs as he pulls out a cigarette. He tries to think of when he gave her the idea that he might be interested but he comes up short, so he simply lights his cigarette and start walking towards Y/N’s house.

Taglist: @thinkingsofamadwoman @giftofdreams @mcrmarvelloki @beyond-the-ashes @heydaredevil @arseofrivia @amirahiddleston @callmesunshinexx @sweatydragoncloudknight @lovemissyhoneybee