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Riding High

Ch20: When The Bough Breaks

Chapter Summary: Fliss finds herself in an impossible position…and her decision tips Frank’s world upside down.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Don’t hate me…

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 19

And this day’s ending is the proof of time, killing all the faith I know.

“Was that another one?” Frank asked as Fliss tossed her phone onto the coffee table with an angry snort.

She nodded, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Frank sighed and looked at her “Honey…” “I know, I know…” she looked at him. “Look, I’ve made notes of every time I’ve had one so… its recorded. But again, it’s not like we can prove anything…they happen like twice a day and then nothing…hardly what they’ll call harassment.” Frank shifted slightly “This has been going on for 2 weeks now sweetheart.” “I’m well aware of that.” she snapped, before she shook her head “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get angry…not at you.” “Come here…” he said, opening his arms and she snuggled into him, leaning against his chest as his hand gently ran up and down her arm. “Maybe you should think about changing your number…and not putting the new one on the website.” “Yeah.” she conceded, “It’s not gonna help for work though…” “You can work round it.” he said, “Keep the business line and if you’re not there people will have to leave a message. Then, once you know your clients…you can give them your cell number.”

“Fucking ass hole is still making my life awkward.”

“Only if you let him. It’s a minor inconvenience to change your number but, if in the grand scheme of things all he has in his back pocket is sending you some dumbass birthday card and silent phone calls then…he’s just a pathetic fucking loser that’s trying to bully you into being scared.” “I’m not scared, just pissed off.” she shook her head “I know he’s a chicken shit, he wouldn’t dare come near me not when you’re on the scene…or my dad for that matter.” “Good, because if he did I’m not sure I’d be able to control myself.” Frank said softly.

“Maybe we should just pay someone to kill him.” Fliss said after a moment’s pause and Frank let out a snort “Bullet straight between the eyes.”

“Nah, too quick.” Frank sniffed, reaching for his beer “I’d dangle him over a tank of hungry sharks and lower him in inch by inch…”

“Or we could feed him to pigs, like in Hannibal.” Fliss mused.

“That’s also an option…no trace” he nodded taking a mouthful of beer.

“You know they should teach this shit at schools” Fliss reached for her own drink “How to get rid of bodies. I feel it is something everyone should be educated in.” “Maybe you should mention it to Bonnie. Tell her you feel it is an educational rite of passage or some other inspiring shit like that…”

Fliss laughed, placing her wine glass down and shifting so that she was led on her front, half on-half off Frank, looking up at him as her chin rest on his chest.

“On a scale of 1 to 10 how much of a meltdown are we facing with Mary on tomorrow morning?”

“From her current mood I’d suspect a good 4 and a half, maybe a 5.” he mused, before he looked at Fliss “I don’t much care, she’s going whether she wants to or not.” “When do the University Classes start again?”

“Not till second week in October.” Frank replied “Which reminds me, I need to submit that funding form tomorrow…” “It’s on the table.” Fliss said, as she correctly guessed from the look on his face he was pondering where he had put it.”

“What would I do without you?” he grinned down at her.

“I have absolutely no idea.” she shrugged and he smiled and leaned down pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Did you speak to Evelyn before?” Fliss asked him and he nodded.

“She’s coming down this weekend.” Frank said, “She’s still on about Mary going to Boston for a weekend.” “You still not comfortable about her going?” Fliss asked.

Frank wrinkled his nose “I don’t know if I trust her fully yet.” “You’ll never know you can unless you give her a chance.” Fliss reasoned

“You think I should let her go?” Frank said, slightly surprised.

“That’s not my decision to make, Frank” Fliss shook her head.

“No, but I value your opinion.” Frank looked at her. “Go on, tell me what you think.” Fliss hesitated for a moment before she sat up and turned her body so she was facing him, her legs tucked underneath her on the sofa. “If it was me in your position, I’d give Evelyn a chance. She’s played ball so far, done everything you’ve asked her to. You’ve got legal guardianship of Mary so she can’t pull any stupid stunts, and if Mary comes back and tells you something she did that you don’t like, well, you cut the visits.” Frank looked at Fliss before he took another drink from his beer bottle. He was torn in two. In one respect he wanted Mary to be happy and it certainly seemed that she enjoyed seeing Evelyn, but on flip side he was still more than comfortable with keeping his Mother at arm’s length.

“I’ll think about it.” he shrugged, non-committedly.

“Well, you should also ask Mary.” Fliss said “She might not even want to go.” “She will.” Frank said, “Evelyn has a piano.” Fliss laughed “Yeah, but she’s also bossy, remember?”

“Yeah, I had heard that.” Frank said, and Fliss chuckled again.

“Well, can you not think about it right now?” she said, taking the beer bottle out of his hand.

“Hey…” he pouted as she put it down on the table, his pout soon turned into a smirk as Fliss moved so she was straddling him on the sofa, his t-shirt that she’d been lounging around in rode up her thighs slightly and his hands rubbed up the side of her bare skin. “Something on your mind baby girl?”

“What makes you think that?” she asked, sliding her hands up his chest, over the soft material of his top.

“Just a hunch…” he mumbled, as he reached up and gently gripped the back of her neck, pulling her head down to meet his.

****** “Hey Frank…”

Frank looked up and smiled at Alan as he walked into the work shop.

“Hey Alan, not seen you in a while, how you doing?” “Good…I’m good. I was just wondering if I could have a word in my office.”

“Sure.” Frank frowned “Is err, everything ok?” “Oh, yeah, it’s nothing to worry about…quite the opposite in fact…” “Alright, well me just finish piecing this oil filter together and I’ll be with you.”

“Sure.” Alan said, “No rush.”

Frank quickly tightened the filter back up, gave it the once over before he set down his tools and hopped off the boat, wiping his hands on a rag before he walked through the door at the back of the workshop and down the small corridor that led to the main office at the rear of the shop. He knocked sharply on the door and then swung it open as Alan looked at him, gesturing for him to take a seat whilst he finished up his call. Eventually, he bid the person on the other end good bye and placed the receiver down.

“Relax, Frank…” Alan chuckled as Frank adjusted his jeans for what felt like the 30th time since sitting down.

“Sorry.” Frank nodded, scratching at his temple. “So errr, do you need me to do something or...” “In a manner of speaking, yes.” Alan said “As you know Paul is retiring at the end of the year, which means the Head Mechanic role is up for grabs…and I was wondering if you’d be interesting in taking the position.” “Me?” Frank’s eyes widened slightly

Alan nodded “I know in the grand scheme of things you haven’t been here long but you’ve impressed me, just like Bill said you would. You knuckle down, you do the overtime if needed, you don’t complain…I like you Frank, and the team does to.” “I err…” Frank scratched the back of his neck. “I’m flattered…but I’ve never managed a team before or…”

“You were an Assistant Professor at one stage right?” Alan eyed him and Frank sighed, nodding “You must have had a research team…” “Yeah, but…” “It’s no different.” Alan shook his head, “And I’m here to help and give you some guidance. I’m not quite ready to retire fully yet. Not like Bill, only so much golf I can play before I go fucking nuts.” Frank snorted “Yeah, not gonna lie, it’s not my thing…” Alan looked at him “The duties won’t be that much different Frank. You’ll just be in charge of booking the jobs in, allocating them to the guys, keeping on top of deadlines and general management of the team…means a little less time spent actually getting your hands dirty but…well, you can manage that yourself. You wanna take a job you take it.”

“Can I take a bit of time to think it over?” he asked.

“Sure. Take a few days, let me know. I’d like to have whoever is taking over in a position to start the handover by the start of October if possible so…” “Thanks.” Frank nodded “I’ll give it some thought.” “Oh, and it also comes with a Ten thou a year raise…” Alan casually dropped in as Frank stood up “Plus a bonus each year of up to 20 percent, depending on how well you’ve done on your targets” “Just a minor detail you forgot to tell me.” Frank arched an eyebrow.

“Well, I wanted to make sure you’d consider it for the right reasons not merely the financial incentive.” Alan shrugged “Another reason I’m convinced you’re perfect for the job.” Frank nodded and with that he left the office. Given that it was almost lunch time he took his break 15 or so minutes earlier and headed out into the September sun, pulling out his phone.

“Hey Sailor.” Fliss greeted him.

“Hey Cowgirl.” he smiled, leaning against the hood of his truck sipping a bottle of water “You got a sec.” “For you, always. What’s up?”

“Nothing, nothing bad anyway…I just got offered a promotion.”

“Frankie that’s amazing!” She gushed “You sound surprised though.” “I am, a little.” he said, before he launched into an explanation of what Alan had told him and what the job would entail, plus the financial incentives.

“Wow!” she said as he finished talking “Baby, that’s fantastic. I’m so proud of you!”

Frank felt himself blushing at her praise, and despite the fact he couldn’t even see her he rubbed at his neck slightly. “So, you think I should take it?” “Of course I do. But at the same time, if you don’t want to then…you don’t have to. This is a great position to be in honey, Alan’s clearly seen your potential.”

“Just not sure If I’m cut out to be management.” he said, biting his lip.

“I had the same thoughts about my business you know.” she spoke gently “I wasn’t sure if setting up on my own after everything that happened was gonna work but then Dad told me that I’d never know unless I took the plunge. Have a little faith in yourself. The only person who doubts your capability is you.”

Frank smiled at her words and looked up and out over the Marina “You always know exactly what to say.” “Not really, I make most of it up as a go along.” she said and Frank laughed. “But, just think, with the extra money you can get a new car…” “There’s nothing wrong with my truck.” “Frank, it’s died on you 4 times in the last 2 weeks. Dad reckons his ride on lawnmower has more power under the hood than that thing”

“Ok, I’ll admit…she’s getting a little clunky…but she is into her twenties now….” Fliss snorted “You could get yourself a nice Audi…”

“Fuck off.” Frank said and she laughed

“I like Simon’s car…” “You like it so much you get one.”

“Would never fit Thor in the back.” she said and Frank had to concede she had a point “But now you’re freelancing…you don’t actually need a truck do you?” “No, but…it’s handy…” “Handy, baby it only has three seats…” “And a flatbed…” Frank pouted slihglty. “So get one with five seats.” she shrugged. “You can buy trucks with a full cab…”

“This is not a good enough reason to get me to take the promotion…”

“You want a better reason?” She said. “Ok, well here’s some food for thought…when the lease is up on our place maybe we could look into buying. You know I don’t wanna rent forever, I want us to have something for the future that’s ours, and the extra money you get a year would make a difference in what we can borrow towards it.” And just like that, as always, she’d managed to sideswipe him. He’d be lying if he hadn’t considered getting back on the property market, he had savings after all…but he’d given it no more thought than a fleeting idea every now and then when he drove past places with real estate signs in the front yards

“This mean you’re coming round to the idea of marrying me and having baby Franks and Flisses?” She snorted “You’re such a dick…although that’s the only time you’ve ever mentioned that when you’re sober.” “So you’re saying that if I ask you when I’m not drunk you’d say yes?” he teased. “Goodbye Frank…” She teased in an airy voice, before she cut the call.

Chuckling to himself he slid the phone back into his pocket and headed back inside to grab his lunch from the fridge in the kitchen. As he did so he passed Paul who was heading out with a fresh cup of coffee.

“Oh, erm…Alan…” Frank looked at him. “So, turns out I don’t need as much time to think about it as I thought I did. I’ll take the job.” Alan smiled at him and pat him on the shoulder “Good man. I’ll get the wheels in motion and then we can work out how we start to transfer Paul’s responsibilities over.”

Frank nodded at him as he walked off.

“Oh…” Alan called after him, “We’ll also need to pick your car.”

“My car…” Frank frowned.

“Yeah, did I not mention? Paul’s BM…that’s a company car. I’m gonna let him keep it as a retirement present so we’ll need to order you another one. Not least because I don’t want my Head Mechanic driving around in that heap of shit you have. Looks like we don’t pay you enough…” Frank stood there, eyebrows raised as Alan simply smirked at him and left. Shaking his head, he gave a little groan, already imagining Fliss’ face when he told her.

*****

Fliss had reacted exactly how he had thought she would, laughing hysterically and then teasing him about how he had no alternative now than to get rid of the heap of shit he was ridiculously attached to. She’d then spent the evening looking at cars on her phone, showing him ridiculously pimped out vehicles in various vile colours, the final straw being a hot-rod red for Mustang with gold rims and flames painted down the side. At that point he’d snatched the phone out of her hand, grabbed her hips and pulled her down under him on the couch and given her something else to think about for half an hour or so.

September ticked by, in the usual speed by which time seemed to be flying for Frank and he found himself thrown into his job, soaking up Paul’s experience of managing the team as much as he could. He was also extremely grateful for both Fliss and Bill’s input, both of them having dealt with managing staff and rotas so he was able to ask them both questions as well. Naturally, when V heard about it she insisted on cooking him a special dinner, and even Evelyn presented him with a very nice bottle of Scotch when she came to visit as a Congratulations.

Another bit of good news for them was that once Fliss changed her phone number the calls stopped as well. Frank was glad about that, because it meant that once again they’d thwarted the ass holes attempts to intimidate her. She’d made a blog, however, of every call she had gotten which now sat in Greg’s files along with the Card. Just in case.

Nope, on the whole life seemed to be going well for the pair of them.

“Someone’s looking smug…” Greg teased Frank as he leaned back in the chair around Greg’s large outdoor table. It was a Saturday at the start of October and they’d finally got round to having that cook out and gathering that the Circle of Truth had been attempting to organise round everyone’s schedule for the last 3 months.

“Well, you know…life’s pretty good.” Frank smiled, sipping his beer, his eyes straying to Fliss who was stood around the bar area to the right of the garden with Bonnie, Zara and Lisa. She was dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a tie-died off the shoulder sweater but as usual, she looked stunning.

“You got a ring yet?” Jake asked, dropping down into a seat next to him.

“Oh don’t you start as well.” Frank groaned as Simon and Greg both laughed. “We’re happy as we are…besides, we’ve not even been together a year yet…” “Not far off.” Jake shrugged “Man, when you know you know…” “He’s just scared she’ll say no.” Simon teased. Frank stilled for a moment and then turned to glare at the man. “Shit, you are?” Simon frowned “No, not especially but…” Frank shook his head, trying to find the words to explain “I’m absolutely, totally convinced I want to spend the rest of my life with her, and I know she feels the same but…well she’s been married before and I don’t want to ask until I know she’s ready to do it again.”

Greg looked at him, nodding “I get that.”

“That’s gotta be the most grown up think you’ve ever said…” Jake looked at Frank who flipped him off but deep down he had to admit, it wasn’t wrong. He knew that both he and Fliss had come a long way from the people they had been just over 14 months ago when they had first met. Fliss had come alive, flourished even in herself, and he…well, he’d learnt that there was more to life than the meaningless cycle of one night stands and that flying by the seat of his pants wasn’t always the most productive thing to do. Both of them had been broken in their own way, had their own guards and walls around themselves which the other had managed to smash straight through. He stole another glance at Fliss and smiled, he knew there was no other woman for him, but in the same breath…what was the rush? They had a life time. And a ring and a piece of paper wasn’t going to change any of that.

“Man you grew up…” Simon grinned and Frank rolled his eyes.

“Look, I’ll have you know I’ve brought up a kid since the age of 6 months…all this shit about me being a man child…It’s crap…”

“Whatever man…we all know you’re not a grown up until you have scatter cushions on your sofa…” Simon teased, referencing the previous week when he and Bonnie had come over for drinks and Fliss and Frank had had a jokey argument about said cushions. Frank threw his head back in a huge bout of laugher, shaking his head.

“Fuck you!” he said, looking at him as Simon grinned.

“Anyway, man…speaking of weddings…” Greg turned to Jake “You’ve been engaged for what? Three years now…when you gonna set a date?”

“He has a point…” Simon looked at him.

“Well, you can all shut the fuck up because for your information we have.”

“Shut the front door!” Greg grinned

Jake nodded and took a large mouthful of his beer.

“So you gonna tell any of us or…” Jake glanced over at Lisa before he yelled her name and she looked over at him, the other women also looking up.

“Can we tell them now babe?” he called. Lisa grinned and nodded, and then made her way over followed by Zara. Fliss looked at Bonnie who shrugged, and the two of them picked up their drinks and followed.

Fliss perched on Frank’s knee and he slid one hand round her waist the other dropped to her thigh.

“So, we have set a date for the wedding.” Lisa smiled to a huge shriek from Zara. Frank spotted Fliss looking at Bonnie, the two of them sharing a significant smirk and he squeezed her thigh.

“Stop being a bitch.” he said in a low voice.

“Rude…” she mumbled, grinning into her gin. “6th April next year…” Jake grinned. “At Hardemans Secret Garden in Dover, Tampa.” “Well unless you invented a time machine, it ain’t gonna be this year is it?” Simon looked at him, before he gave a yell as Bonnie slapped him round the back of the head.

“Obviously you’re all invited.” Jake said, “Except for Simon.” “Hang on, if he isn’t coming does that mean I can’t?” Bonnie pouted.

“You can be my plus one.” Fliss nodded.

“Oi…” Frank nipped her thigh gently. She grinned at him, ruffling his hair slightly. He jerked his head out of her reach and looked at her over his aviators. She stuck her tongue out at him and he grinned.

“Guys this is great news…” Greg said, nodding “Best dig the suit out.” “You wear a suit to work every day.” Zara looked at him.

“And you won’t need to.” Jake shook his head. “In fact none of you will…my brother is best man, obviously, but I’d like you guys there as my Groomsmen…that is, if you’re up for it.” Frank smiled at Greg, then Simon before they all shrugged.

“Yeah, I’m in…” Greg smiled.

“Me too pal, I’m honoured.” Frank smiled, tipping his beer bottle in Jake’s direction.

“Does this mean we get to plan the Batchelor party?” Simon asked. Jake nodded with a grin and Simon leaned back “Oh this is gonna be beautiful….”

***** “You’re fucking mental.” Frank looked at Fliss as she shrugged, circling Cap back round to the jump which Joanne had just hiked up another foot. He shook his head and turned away “I can’t watch.” “Don’t’ be a chicken Frank.” Mary grinned up at him, “It’s cool…I wanna do that some day.” “Over my dead body.” Frank looked down at her.

“Yeah you said that about me going to Boston.” “No, that’s not what I said.” Frank sighed, looking at her “I said over my dead body were you going to live with Evelyn….and did you?” “No…” Mary conceded “But you’re letting me go back for a weekend.”

“Yes, because you’re going for 2 nights and coming home” he said, and despite himself he turned his head to see Fliss sail Cap over the huge jump.

“See….” Fliss said, pulling the horse up to a stop “Easy…” “Whatever you say sweetheart.” he shook his head.

“Can I jump Monty soon?” Mary asked, and Fliss smiled.

“Yeah we can do a little cross pole…” “I give in…” Frank groaned, throwing his hands out to the side “The pair of you are nuts.”

“Says the guy who almost cried when he had to order a new car.” Fliss looked at him and Frank rolled his eyes “I mean who does that?” “Yeah Frank…” Mary said, swinging off the fence to the paddock, leaning back to look at him. “You get to swap a rust bucket for a shiny new Mitsubishi and you were like heartbroken.” “Hey, me and that truck have seen a lot of action-“ “I don’t wanna know…” Fliss started.

“Of which you’ve been part of…” he smirked her and she flushed a little, grinning. “I’m kinda attached to it.” “It’s a lump of metal.” Fliss looked at him.

“How dare you.” Frank scoffed, feigning offence.

“Well now you can have new adventures in the new truck.” Mary shrugged “Simples.” “When you do get it I vote the first thing we do is load it up and head off for a picnic somewhere.” Fliss said, hopping off Cap.

“I can go with that.” Frank nodded as she turned and walked towards the gate, letting her out.

“Can I take him?” Mary asked, hopping down off the fence.

“Sure…” Fliss said, handing her the reins. Mary led the horse away to the barn as Fliss removed her hat and pulled out her bobble, shaking her long hair free before she tied it back up again.

“I really do like it that colour.” Frank mused after a second, watching her. She blushed a little, and he knew why. A week ago she’d come back from the salon, her usually bright auburn hair was a lot more demure, having had caramel put through the ends. When Frank had complimented her on the change she’d gotten a little shy and said that she used to have it like that when she was younger, but John had always wanted her to keep it her natural colour. Now she felt like she fancied a change. Her admission had once again, knocked Frank for, how simple little things like that were so huge for her.

She pulled off her riding gloves, shoved them into her back pocket and they walked into the barn as Mary opened Cap’s stable and led him inside. As always, the large horse bowed his head gently to allow Mary to undo his bridle and Fliss smiled. Cap was secretly her favourite after Heidi. He was such a loving animal, despite his size always being so gentle and careful around people, especially Mary. Most animals were like that around her, she just had this aura that they seemed to like. But then again, everyone said that animals were a good judge of character.

“Can we go to the shack for dinner?” Mary spoke up, looking at Frank “It is Saturday…”

“Oh, I dunno…” Frank sighed, “Not sure my heap of shit truck will get us there.” “No but Fliss’ jeep will.” Mary shrugged and Frank shook his head with a snort.

“You literally have an answer for everything.”

“Wonder where she gets that from…” Fliss looked at him and he nudged her gently with his elbow.

“So can we go or not?”

“Yes, ok we can go to the shack.” Frank said “But the deal is you tidy your room when you get home. It’s a disgrace.” Mary pondered this for a moment as Fliss undid the girth on Cap’s saddle, pulling it off.

“Deal.” she nodded “Only Fliss said she was gonna help me sort my clothes out…some of them don’t fit anymore.”

“Yeah we do that tomorrow morning.” Fliss smiled, “Then we can look at ordering you some warm stuff for New York.” “Are we still getting matching sweaters when we get there?” “No.” Frank said, at the same time Fliss nodded.

“Yes.” “No, we’re not.” Frank looked at her.

“Errr 2 vs 1 Sailor, you’re outvoted.” she shrugged, pushing past him with the saddle on her arms. “But if you’re a good boy we’ll let you pick them right Mary?” “I dunno.” Mary frowned “Have you seen his shirts?” Fliss let out a roar of laughter and turned to face her, before she looked at Frank, laughing even harder at the pure indignation on his face.

“I hate you both.” he said sullenly, folding his arms.

The Shack was busy by the time they arrived but given that it wasn’t too cold they managed to find a small table outside and ordered their food, Mary getting through an astonishing amount considering but the Frank had noticed she was going through a bit of a growth spurt which he mentioned to Fliss when they were snuggled up on the sofa later.

“Not sure getting her any stuff for New York yet is wise.” he mused “If she carries on like she is it won’t fit her.”

“Well we can wait…Fliss said shrugging, her hand rubbing at Frank’s stomach under his shirt. “You have no idea how excited I am…” “Really?” Frank snorted “You never mentioned it.” “Oh piss off” she laughed, before she sighed happily “It’s the one thing I miss about home and Boston…you know this time of year the leaves would be changing colour and falling,…”

“I know what you mean.” he said, his hands carding through her hair “You don’t really Seasons here.”

“Well you do…” Fliss said, “Hurricane and Summer.” Frank let out a laugh as she looked up at him. “You know you’re my hurricane.”

“What?” he looked at her

“Came into my life, blew it all upside down…” “Jesus you talk some shit!” he laughed, shaking his head as she grinned.

“You know there was actually a hurricane Frank back in 2010. So I’m not talking complete shit…” “Whatever Sweetheart…” he snorted, leaning back as her nails scratched against his stomach. He gave a twitch and grabbed her wrist, and looked down at her as she flashed him a coy look. “Stop it.”

“What, this?” she moved and used her other hand, and Frank let out a hiss as he shifted and grabbed that one too.

“You know what that does to me…” he looked at her, his voice low.

“Yup.” she nodded, grinning.

With a jerk of his arms he pulled her forward so she fell onto him fully, drawing a giggle from her as her nose bumped against his.

“I fuckin’ love you.” he smiled at her, and she grinned, giving him a soft kiss.

“Yeah, you’ve told me once or twice…” she smirked, her lips locking onto his.

******

“Fliss?”

“Office…” she called back, and a second or so later Joanne popped her head into the room.

“Everything’s done.” she said, “I was gonna lock up…you’re not normally here this late.”

“Yeah I know but I have some paper work to sort. Need to file a couple of things and, well, thought it would be easier to do it here than take everything home. Frank’s taken Mary bowling so…” “And you’d rather be here doing paper work?” Joanne teased.

“Sadly, it needs doing…besides, last time we went I kicked his ass, again, he sulked for hours.” Fliss snorted “Maybe he stands more of a chance against Mary.”

“Won’t he let her win?” Joanne asked “I mean, she is only eight…”

“No chance.” Fliss looked at Jo. “He says that she needs reminding every now and then that she’s not a genius at everything…” Joanne let out a laugh “Fair enough. Ok, well I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, bye Jo…”

Fliss set about getting to work, filing the various bills and disclaimers she’d had signed and started then sifting through the list of clients and payments, checking who owed what and typing out the bills for the month. Once they were printed and placed in envelopes, ready to be tacked to the stable doors in the morning she glanced at the clock and realised it was almost 8 pm. Frank and Mary should be home now.

She was just about to pack up when she realised she hadn’t gone through the post for the day. For a second she debated leaving it for the morning, but decided she would get it over with. There wasn’t much- mostly a couple of letters from various equestrian societies around the area about a few events going on, but the last one she reached was a manila envelope with the address typed out on the front.

She turned it over, opened it and then pulled out the contents and immediately felt her blood run cold as she looked at the paper in front of her. It was a copy of the photo of her and Mary, taken from the first Blog that Mary had written over the summer. Underneath it was typed a simple message- I always knew you’d suit motherhood.

Fliss swallowed, it didn’t take a genius to work out who it was from but for the first time since his ridiculous campaign now she was actually frightened as to the meaning behind this. Up until now it he’d been nothing more than annoying but this was designed to be more than an aggravation.

It was a threat. A direct threat telling her he knew about Mary.

Whilst Fliss wasn’t Mary’s mother, and would never claim to be she loved that girl like she was her own and the fact that John was even brining her into this made her feel physically sick, so much so that she felt the bile rising in her throat and with a sharp heave she lurched to the side, grabbing the waste paper basket and hocking up the bitter substance. Coughing she wiped the back of her mouth with a shaking hand, reaching for the bottle of water on her desk.

She folded the photo up and stuck it back in the envelope, shoving it in the drawer before she stood up and locked her office, heading to her jeep. Her mind was reeling, now it wasn’t just her he was focussing on, this changed everything. Did she tell Frank? She knew she should, she couldn’t leave Mary in danger. Not that she believed any harm would come to her, not really, especially not under Frank’s care but that was another worry she had. That if she told Frank this, it was really going to push him over that edge into blind rage, and he’d been on the first plane out to Boston, hunting the fucker down…and then what?

He ended up in jail himself because Fliss knew Frank well enough to understand that if that blind rage took hold, he wouldn’t stop.

She had no answer to this, nothing. She sat in her jeep, staring out of the window, trying to force the thoughts and mumbles and voices in her heat to quiet, so she could think clearly, get some form of grasp on what it was she needed to do. And then one voice was screamed at her, clearly, giving her a solution…the only one she could viably see working.

With a loud sob, Fliss covered her face in her hands, unable to see an alternative to the decision she had just reached. A decision that was going to break her heart more than anything had ever done before.

******

“Hey, you’re late…” Frank looked up, immediately frowning as he saw Fliss’ face. “Honey…what…” “Where’s Mary?” she asked instantly.

“She nipped to Roberta’s” Frank said “I know it’s late but we saw her as we were headed out of the car and she wanted to collect something for Show and Tell tomorrow…why?”

“We need to talk.” Fliss said.

Frank stood up off the sofa and walked towards her, he reached for her and she took a step back.

“Ok, Fliss, you’re scaring me now…what…”

“I think…” Fliss looked down at her hands “I think that we need to stop seeing each other.”

Frank blinked, not sure he had heard her right, but when he looked at her he saw a tear trickling down her face and she was avoiding his gaze. The world around him began to fade and a dull buzzing filled his head and rang around his ears as a horrible cold feeling washed over him.

“Lissy…” he swallowed, his words sticking in his throat “What’s brought this on? Did I do something? Are you not happy? I don’t understand…” “I just…it isn’t working for me…” she took a deep breath and looked up at him.

“You’re lying.” he said instantly, he could see it written all over her face “Fliss, what’s going on?” “Nothing, I’m sorry. I just…I need to leave, I need space.” she said “I’m so sorry Frank…” Frank took a deep breath, and watched as she turned to leave. After a second he hurried after her into the hallway, shaking his head.

“Lissy, please…talk to me…” he all but begged as she walked to the door. She made to open it but Frank was behind her and placed his hand firmly on the top of the PVC, causing it to shut. She spun round and looked up at him, the tears now pouring down her face.

“Please, Frank…don’t make this any harder than it is…” her voice was broken, and she shook her head. “I don’t understand what THIS is?” he looked at her, running a hand through his hair as he felt the stinging of tears in his own eyes “Last month we were talking about buying a house together and now you just wanna break it off, for no reason? Honey, just…whatever is going on, we can work through it, just talk to me.”

“I’m so sorry…” she whispered, “Just…let me out…please…”

He looked at her again, her eyes bouncing across his and he knew instantly he couldn’t stop her, and would never do that to her either, no matter how much he so desperately wanted to lock the door and force her to tell him what the fuck was going on. So with a sniff he forced himself to step back and her hand went to the door knob, her shoulders shaking.

“Liss, please…” his voice cracked. “Don’t do this…”

She took a deep breath and opened the door, the warm air from outside hit him in the face, tears stinging his eyes slightly before click of the latch hit his ears as the door shut behind her, leaving him stood alone in the hallway, stunned and utterly, utterly broken.

**** Chapter 21

#riding high #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Riding On

Ch 19- Everyone Loves A B-J…

Summary: It’s Frank’s birthday and the Adler-Gallagher clan enjoy a family based weekend that brings Frank several surprises along the way, whilst both him and Fliss get a gift that money simply can’t buy.

Warnings: Bad Language words, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: LONG update here guys, and sorry, I really couldn’t resist the Trump bashing again. For what it’s worth, I cannot WAIT to write Frank’s reaction to that election when I finally get there. All together now “F**k Donal Trump!”

Thanks to my wonderful gals @icanfeelastormbrewing and @southerngracela who let me bounce a few ideas off for this...

Chapter Song: I’m Yours- Jason Mraz

Series Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

Well, you done done me, and you bet I felt it, I tried to be chill, but you're so hot that I melted. I fell right through the cracks, now I'm trying to get back.

Given that Alex's stay at his grandparents was a success, Fliss felt much happier about her planned surprise few nights away for Frank. She had already booked most of it in early January, having roped her parents, Mary and even Frank's colleagues into her plotting to ensure that the days she had selected- Thursday to Sunday over the second weekend in March- were booked as leave and factored into the rota at the shop without him knowing. Mary, being her usual googling genius self, helped Fliss to find the perfect place to stay in the area she had selected along with a number of activities and she’d booked the whole thing on her credit card so that Frank wouldn't see anything suspicious showing up on their bank statements. That said, despite all her secrecy, Frank could tell she was up to something. He knew her too well not to spot it. And being the impatient little shit he was, he tried everything he could to coax it out of her to no avail. She wasn't for cracking, and neither was Mary. All he kept getting told from both his girls was "wait for your birthday" which was driving him insane. He even tried to catch Fliss out mid sex one evening. He lay over her, languidly dragging his cock in and out of her at a torturously slow pace, promising her he'd let her come if she told him what she was up to. She'd simply panted out that he was an asshole and then looked up at him with those eyes, wide and bright, shining with love and as usual he'd caved. He never could resist when she looked at him like that and a few minutes later she was crying his name whilst Frank was still none the wiser as to what was actually going on. The morning of his birthday rolled around much the same as any other Saturday morning, except Mary had opted to stay home the night before instead of going to Roberta’s as they were going out for breakfast. The morning sun was warm on Frank's face as it spliced through a crack in the curtains, but that wasn't what had woken him. It was Fliss, kissing and nuzzling all around his shoulders and the back of his neck as she snuggled into him from behind, her hand snaking around his waist and dipping into his boxers.

He gave a croaky little groan as her hand wrapped around his semi-hard cock, lightly stroking him as she continued gently kissing his neck, the heat from her body radiating into his as she pressed her chest to his bare back. Frank turned his head so he was looking over his shoulder and she met him with a cheeky smirk which turned into a slow, gentle kiss, perfect for the lazy, slow strokes she was giving him.

"Happy birthday baby." She whispered, nudging his nose with hers.

“You can say that again.” He choked as her grip tightened around him.

“Happy birthday baby.” She chuckled and Frank rolled his eyes giving a huff of laughter but before he could reply Fliss had gently pushed on his shoulder, coaxing him over onto his back. She moved so she was hovering over him, kissed him again before her mouth made its way down his chest, nose and lips tracing a path down his happy trail and across his Adonis belt. With a soft moan of her name, Frank’s hand tangled in those soft, morning-tousled waves of bright, auburn hair he adored as she glanced up at him with her deep, brown eyes, the polka-dot bed covers peaked around her head. She gave another cheeky grin as her hands reached for the side of his boxers and he shifted his hips to allow her to pull them down. Her eyes locked on his she wrapped her hand round the base of his cock and gave a few further flicks of her wrist, causing him to sigh before she adjusted herself, pulled her hair over one shoulder and took him in her mouth. Frank moaned, totally blissing out as Fliss licked and sucked her way around his dick, the hand that wasn't in her hair fisted around the bed sheets as he felt his pleasure mounting the more she worked him. His hips bucked slight as she took him all the way to the back of her throat, a motion she repeated for 3 or 4 times until he was gone. With a hiss and a croak of her name Frank spilled himself down her throat, his fingers tightening around her hair as he sighed, laying back, eyes closed, chest heaving.

With a smirk Fliss pulled his boxers back up and crawled the length of his body, laying on top of him, her chest pressed to his. He smiled, his eyes still not opening as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close for a second, basking in what a fucking amazing wake-up call that had been, until the baby monitor on the nightstand suddenly emitted a loud gurgled screech signalling Alex was awake and sure enough, as they both turned to look at the screen they could see him attempting to roll over in his crib.

“It was a lot easier when he was right here.” Fliss pouted, her chin on Frank’s chest as she peeked up at him and Frank gave her a stern look.

“We’re not having that argument again, Liss.” He shook his head, “He’s 6 months old now. He can sleep in his own room.”

“I know, I know…” She sighed, pushing herself up away from Frank and climbing off the bed. He watched her go laying back on the pillow, giving a roll of his eyes at the ceiling. That had been one hell of heated discussion earlier in the week when he’d suggested it was time Alex moved into the nursery at night instead of just taking his daytime naps in there. Fliss had protested, shown him all this stuff on the internet about how it was better for kids to be in their parents rooms until they were 12 months old, which Frank and countered with articles to the contrary he had found and stated Mary had never slept in his room from the moment he’d had her. She’d gotten upset, teary, but he wasn’t caving in. He’d hated being so damned forceful with her but the fact was as much as he loved the kids he selfishly and unashamedly wanted his private space back, a space where they got to be alone with one another to allow them to be Fliss and Frank, not mom and dad. Plus he also knew the longer Alex stayed in their room the harder it was going to be to get him to settle in his own space. Eventually, after Fliss had realised this was one thing she wasn’t getting her own way with she’d given in, and spent most of the night tossing and turning, sniffing a little, and when he’d tried to cuddle her she’d told him to piss off. Frank had merely taken a deep breath and backed away, knowing full well that when she got up in the morning and saw that Alex was fine, she’d feel like an ass. And he’d been right. She’d been up at the crack of dawn, straight into the nursery and come back a few minutes later, sidling up to him and hugging him from behind whispering that she was sorry, and the entire thing had been forgotten.

A thud on the bed jolted Frank from his thoughts and he looked down to see Thor had hopped up on the foot of the bed and he flopped down, his head on the peak that Frank’s feet were making.

“Oh, it’s like that is it buddy?” he asked and the dog merely looked at him before giving a contented sigh, his tail thumping on the bed. Then his head perked up as the door to their room pushed open again and his tail grew even more frantic as Fliss entered with Alex in her arms. She placed him down on the duvet and climbed into bed again, both watching as their baby promptly rolled from his back onto his tummy, his head raising to look at Frank as he gave a loud gurgle, grinning up at his daddy.

Frank gave a huff of laughter as he sat up against the headboard and hooked his hands under Alex’s arm pits, standing him up on his thighs. Gently he moved his hand so the baby could grab onto his fingers and Alex stood, looking around the room as Frank helped him stay in place.

“Mum thinks he’ll be crawling soon.” Fliss smiled as she lay back, watching the two of them “I mean he’s already sitting up and bum shuffling on the floor so…”

“God help us…or more to the point God help Thor!” Frank snorted as Alex gave a loud shriek as he spotted the dog led on the bed. Thor once more thumped his tail but made no effort to move. At that point, Alex’s legs gave a little wobble and he plopped down onto the soft duvet, sitting up and grabbing at the pattern on the cover before he looked up, grinning once more at Frank.

“He’s always so happy.” Fliss beamed at the baby who waggled his arms excitedly as Frank once more helped him stand up.

“He does nothing but sleep, eat, drink and mess in his diaper.” Frank shrugged “What’s there to be miserable about?!” Fliss snorted as Frank cocked his head and studied his son. “His hair is definitely going darker.” He mused.

“I know.” Fliss smiled “I’m glad his eyes aren’t though.”

“Glad?” Frank turned to her. “How come?”

“Because they’re just like yours.”

Frank smiled as Fliss leaned over and kissed him softly. They spent a little more time in bed, watching Alex’s various attempts to shuffle over the top of the bed towards the german shepherd at the bottom, before they heard Mary’s door open. She headed into the bathroom first before she knocked on their door and when Frank told her to come in she dive bombed on the bed singing Happy Birthday and demanding that he get up to open his gifts.

It was only since being with Fliss that Frank had really had Birthday or Christmas presents to open since he had left Boston. Granted, Roberta had normally gotten him a little something from her and also Mary but now it was different. And not that he was materialistic but he loved the fact he felt a little spoilt. He sat on the couch and unwrapped each one in turn to reveal a couple of new shirts, a pair of sneakers and a framed photo of the four of them which had been taken by Bill at the last Competition Mary had been in. She was sat on Monty in her full show gear, rosette attached to the pony's bridle as Alex perched in front of her, held safely in place by Fliss's hands. Frank stood at the other side of the pony, his arm round Mary all of them beaming at the camera. "Thanks guys, I love it all." Frank looked up smiling, before he paused as Fliss handed him an envelope "More?"

She nodded from where she sat on the floor with Alex who was stood on shaky legs, hanging on to her fingers just as he’d done with his dad earlier. Frank looked at her suspiciously before he slipped his finger under the flap and tore it open. He pulled out the piece of paper, which was a flight itinerary and his eyes widened as he looked at the destination. "We're going to Vermont?" He looked at Fliss and she grinned, giving a nod. "3 nights, next Thursday to Sunday, just the 2 of us" She informed him as Frank quickly scanned the details, his eyes flicking back to hers as he registered the fact they were going to be alone "Nice little cabin in the Moscow area of Stowe and I booked us a few things to do..." "Please tell me one of those things is the Ben and Jerry's tour!" Frank groaned as and Fliss gave a chuckle.

“Well you know what they say…” she looked at Frank whose eyes flicked back to the printed itinerary before they raised once more to hers, questioningly. She grinned and licked her lips “Everyone loves a BJ.”

Frank gave a snort, followed by a little sigh of delight looking back at the piece of paper in his hand, his eyes shining with happiness as he took it all in. “Lissy, this is amazing." He beamed "Thank you." "Wait..." Mary suddenly piped up "You're going to Ben and Jerry's?" "Yeah." Fliss nodded.

"So not fair." She rolled her eyes "I wanna go."

“Tough.” Frank shot back “It’s my birthday not yours.”

“Well can we go for my birthday?” Mary asked.

“No.”

“That’s so mean Frank.” She whined.

“Go call someone who cares.” He looked at her. She narrowed her eyes and then held her hand out.

“Give me your phone then.” She demanded and Fliss laughed.

“Yeah? And who you gonna call?” Frank eyed her “Ghostbusters?”

Marry grinned “Nope. Poppa Bill. He’ll kick your ass.”

“Oh please!” Frank snorted “I’m not scared of Bill.” He shrugged “I could take him down.”

Mary pondered for a second before she looked at him, a positively wicked smirk crossing her face “Fine, I’ll call Uncle Steeby then. I know you’re scared of him.”

“No I’m not.” Frank scoffed and Mary snorted

“Whatever Frank, you’re only lying to yourself.” She said, standing up “Imma go get dressed. When we going for breakfast?”

“Soon as we’re ready.” Fliss smiled and Mary skipped out of the room, humming something to herself, Fred and Thor both following her as she went.

“You’re a liar.” Fliss looked at Frank.

“What?” he asked, picking Alex up and settling him on his knee.

“Saying you’re not scared of Steeby.”

“I’m not.” Frank shook his head, before his face rearranged into a little smile “I’m petrified of him.”

****

Just over an hour or so later they were settled in a booth at Keke's Breakfast cafe on Gulfport. Mary announced loudly that she didn’t need to see the menu, telling their server that she wanted her favourite, the apple and cinnamon waffles with a side of bacon. Frank rolled his eyes at her hyper nature, a soft smile on his face as she chatted away to the teenager who entertained her ramblings with the patience of a saint whilst he and Fliss gave the menu a cursory glance before they too opted for their standard order. Frank took the large French toast combo with his eggs over easy as always, whereas Fliss chose the raspberry stuffed French toast. They also ordered a side of plain pancakes for Alex, the baby now at the stage of holding various food items in his little hand and gumming them half to death with his few teeth. It kept him quiet and entertained whilst they ate, even if more of it did end up round his face and in his hair than his mouth.

Their food didn’t take long, Frank filling the 15 minute or so wait gently teasing Mary about a boy she had mentioned from school, causing her to narrow her eyes at him, protesting that they were just friends. When Fliss then pointed out that was how her and Frank started off she paused, pulled a face and then informed them that their accusations were both baseless and gross, causing Frank to laugh and lean back in his seat, taking a large drink of his coffee.

Their food arrived and Fliss cut up the pancakes, handing a large piece of one to Alex as they all tucked in, eating with gusto, a happy silence falling over the table which Mary broke a few moments later.

“Can we grill tonight?” she asked, her mouthful of food. Frank looked at her, where she was sat on the bench opposite him, next to Fliss. He shook his head “What?” she asked.

“Seriously, it’s breakfast time and you’re asking about what we’re eating tonight?”

Mary shrugged “You need to be more organised, Frank.”

Fliss gave a snort as Frank looked from Mary to her “Seriously, I’m 39 getting sassed by a soon to be 10 year old.”

“39…” Fliss sniggered and Frank nudged her under the table with his foot.

“So can we or not?” Mary demanded.

“Jeeez.” Frank rolled his eyes, picking up his coffee “It’s my birthday, don’t I get a say in what we do?”

“I’ve actually booked us a table somewhere.” Fliss spoke, cutting across the argument. “Thought it might be nice for us all to go out.”

“Where?” Mary turned to her.

“1200 Chophouse.”

Frank let out a groan of delight at the same time Mary punched the air “Seriously?”

Fliss nodded “It was going to be a surprise. Mum, Dad, Steve, Sian and the kids are coming. Oh, and Roberta.” She turned to Mary “So when we get back you need to ride then bath Monty and load the wagon ready for tomorrow. The table is booked for 6:30 so we can feed Alex before we go. He should be happy enough in the chair.”

Mary nodded “Am I on the 1pm class?”

Fliss shook her head “No, I told Joanne to take you off. I’ll teach you later once the class is done ok?”

Mary grinned “I like it best when we do that.”

Fliss smiled at her and then turned to Alex who had enthusiastically banged his fist on the little plastic tray of the high-chair. “You ok baby?” he grinned at her then let out a loud shriek. “Ok, hang on…” She tore another pancake in half and then handed it to him where he shoved it in his mouth straight away. She watched him for a second then looked at Frank “He’s got your appetite.”

“He’s a growing boy.” Frank shrugged.

“What’s your excuse?” Fliss teased and Frank swallowed the last of his breakfast and leaned back against the bench, arm resting along the back of it as he drank his coffee.

“I burn a lot of energy.” He said after little deliberation, shooting her a wink.

About half an hour later they finished their breakfast and headed home, Mary and Fliss both changing into their riding gear and heading over to the yard for the afternoon. Fliss was apologising to Frank about not spending the full day with him but he chuckled, assuring her that he some peace and quiet and one-to-one time with his boy was celebration enough, earning him a soft nip on his arm in retaliation. He spent the afternoon in between making sure Alex was happy and settled enough flicking through trash TV, drinking beer and scouting the internet for a couple of boat parts some of which were needed and others, like a surround sound digital entertainment system complete with satellite TV, were not. Nevertheless, he marked the catalogue number down along with the stuff he actually did need so he could see how much cheaper it would be when he ran it all through the system at work.

At just gone 5 Fliss and Mary came back through the door, Thor hot on their heels, Fliss face bright red and Mary’s streaked with tears.

“What…” Frank stood up and Fliss held her hand up, telling him to stop. He did as he was told, observing with a frown as Mary kicked off her boots and gave a sniff.

“Fliss, I didn’t…”

“I’ve nothing more to say on the issue.” Fliss cut her off.

“But…”

“No buts Mary.” Fliss shook her head “What you said was really mean and I won’t tolerate it ok?”

“Kay…” She sniffed again.

“The horse world is full of nasty bitches.” Fliss looked at her. “I don’t want you becoming one. You know, you’ve done spectacularly well for your first ever season and now and you’ve pretty much just ruined it for yourself because frankly I’m not sure letting you go tomorrow is appropriate given your behaviour.”

“I’m sorry…please, Fliss. I can’t miss the last show!”

“Enough!” Fliss voice rose and Mary shut her mouth hastily. “No more. Now go get showered and changed, we’re late, we need to leave in an hour.” Fliss spoke with a finality to her voice which Mary clearly picked up on as she didn’t argue or plead anymore. Instead she simply wiped her face and headed through the room to the hall, eyes focussed on the floor as she walked. When she shut the door behind her to the hallway, Frank turned to Fliss, his expression puzzled.

“Ok, what’s going on?”

Fliss groaned, heading to the fridge “She was practicing over a few jumps and couldn’t quite get Monty to make the turn on the last one right, he kept tripping or knocking the pole down so she started to get frustrated. And it didn’t help that Sally was stood watching. Mary carried on getting really annoyed and distracted, and basically screamed at Sally saying that she was putting her off and then called her an asshole and told her to leave because no one on the yard liked her.”

Frank arched an eyebrow “She said that?” Fliss nodded and he groaned “Jesus.”

“And then Sally’s mother started.” Fliss sighed heavily, shutting the fridge door and cracking open the bottle of water she’d retrieved. “She was accusing Mary of being a spoilt brat and a spiteful little witch so then I ended up arguing with her, you know, pointing out that they’re kids and they say stuff, and that Sally is no angel as she has an acid tongue too…not that that excuses what Mary said.” She took a long drink of water “The upshot is her mother served her notice and they’re leaving next weekend.”

“So you lost clients?” Frank folded his arms, shaking his head in frustration, “Because of Mary’s mouth?”

“2 boarders.” Fliss shrugged “I’m not too bothered about that side of it, I have a waiting list so I can fill them straight away, I just don’t want Sandybrook getting a reputation, you know? Livery Yards can be horrible places and I work so hard to nip any bitching and bad feelings in the bud before they can spiral.”

“Did Mary apologise?”

“Oh yeah.” Fliss swallowed some more water. “I tore strips off her. As soon as she said it I told her to get straight off Monty, put him away and we were done. I made her apologise in front of everyone who’d been watching and then told her I’m not sure if I’m gonna take her tomorrow. I also told her if it wasn’t for the fact it was your birthday and we had no one to babysit, she wouldn’t be going anywhere tonight either.” She paused and bit the inside of her lip and looked at Frank “Was that too much? I mean…”

“No, absolutely not.” Frank shook his head “And besides, even if I thought it was harsh, which I don’t, I’d never undermine you anyway.”

“Thing is Frank, I really want her to go tomorrow.” Fliss rolled her eyes, “She’s worked so hard and she’s not a bad kid. It feels such a shame to let all her hard work and practice go to waste.”

“Well you didn’t say she couldn’t go for sure, just that you were debating whether or not to allow it.” Frank shrugged “So, let’s see how she goes tonight when we’re out. Then we can decide.”

Fliss nodded “Okay.”

“Honey, don’t think on it.” Frank cocked his head to one side, the look on Fliss’ face betraying the internal conflict she was feeling “You did the right thing.”

“I know, I know but doesn’t stop me feeling shitty about it Frank.” Fliss sighed as Frank walked towards her “I hate having to tell her off. She’s a good kid most of the time and I know deep down she didn’t mean to be so cruel.”

“Well, we all say things at times we don’t mean. I’ve told her that a few times myself.” Frank smiled, wrapping his arms around Fliss.

“It was frustration more than anything.” Fliss melted into his arms and Frank gave a hum of agreement. “Frustration at not being perfect at something.” He said wisely “Monty isn’t an equation or a problem she can work out with maths or logic.” He shrugged “Maybe it will do her some good to learn a little humility.” He dropped a kiss to her head. “Now, no offence but you stink of horses and we have 50 minutes until we need to leave. Go grab your shower, I’ll feed Alex and then get ready. Won’t take me long.”

Fliss chuckled and pulled back, looking up at him, narrowing her eyes “You’re not wearing one of those shirts are you?”

“It’s my birthday.” Frank shrugged “Surely I can wear what I want?”

Fliss rolled her eyes “Whatever.”

“I thought you liked them?”

“They’re hideous”

“But endearing.” He dropped another kiss to her lips “At least that’s what you say.”

She chuckled “I’m only teasing, I kinda like you in them.” She kissed him again and then pulled away, giving a little jump as Frank slapped her ass as she turned around to walk away. She tossed him a look over her shoulder which he met with an innocent one of his own before she walked into the hall, heading up the stairs.

20 minutes or so later, complete with Alex who had enthusiastically wolfed down a generous helping of Fliss’ home-made cauliflower, broccoli and cheese puree, whilst simultaneously smearing it all over his face, he headed up the stairs and into their bedroom. Fliss was wrapped in a robe, finishing off straightening her once hair and she gave a smile as Alex grinned at her.

“He really likes that stuff you made him.” Frank smiled and looked down at his son as he gabbled away in his arms. “I’ll get him cleaned and dressed before I take a shower.”

“I got his outfit ready.” Fliss smiled “It’s on the changing mat.”

“Don’t you trust my fashion sense?” Frank teased and she grinned.

“Your fashion sense is exactly why I picked it.”

“Rude.”

“Trust me, when you see it…you’ll understand.” She smirked.

“Okay…” Frank pulled a confused face before he dropped a kiss to her cheek and turned to head across the hall to the bathroom. 5 minutes later he’d managed to give Alex a quick bath to clean him up and after a little wrestle as the baby really was becoming a wriggle worm, he finally got him wrapped him in his little bear towel with the hood pulled over his light brown hair. Emerging from the family bathroom he made his way towards the nursery, pausing as he heard a little sniffle coming from Mary’s room. Taking a deep breath he moved towards that door instead and gently knocked.

“Stack?” he asked, and when she didn’t tell him to either ‘go away’ or ‘wait a second’ he reached with one hand to open the door and pushed it gently inwards. Mary was sat on the huge bean bag which was situated underneath her raised cabin bed, a book on her lap, her hair damp from the shower. She was dressed in a smart denim skirt which was printed with little white stars and a red plaid top with lace trim down either side of the column of buttons and round the collar. “That new?” he asked having not seen the top before.

“Fliss bought it me last week in Target” she said quietly, wiping her eyes. “I liked it so she said I could have it as I’d done well with Monty”

“Well, you got good taste.” he smiled “Take after me.”

At that she gave him a scathing look and he chuckled a little as Alex let out a little gurgle, his arms outstretched. Mary held her arms out for him so Frank crossed the spacious room and handed the baby over. Alex grinned and made a grab for Mary’s hair, making her smile as Frank sat on the floor in front of them both, his back leaning against the ladders that led up to her bunk.

“You gonna shout at me as well?” she asked after a little pause and Frank inhaled deeply.

“No.” he shook his head, letting his breath out slowly “I think Fliss said everything that needed to be said. I’ve nothing more to add really.”

“Are you mad?”

“No, just disappointed Mary.” he said honestly “I thought I’d taught you better than that.”

Mary looked down, her shoulders slumped “I didn’t mean it. I was just angry. Sally makes me mad.”

“You make me mad sometimes but I don’t say nasty things.” Frank sighed, “Well, I hope I don’t.”

As he spoke those words his mind strayed back a few years to the incident in his apartment when he’d stood on the lego bricks. It seemed like a life time ago, Mary had been so little compared to the girl that sat before him now.

“Hey, look at me.” he said gently and she raised her eyes to his. “Did you mean it when you said sorry?”

Mary nodded “Yeah, I did. But her mom started calling me names and she was so mad at Fliss. Fliss told her to shut up in the end but then she told me off too.”

“Well, that’s because Fliss…” Frank paused, swallowing a little as the words formed in his mind “Well, Fliss is your mom and she loves you, so she’s gonna defend you. That doesn’t mean she agrees with what you did or that what you did was justifiable.”

“I know.” Mary’s voice was quiet “Is she mad? Sally’s mom said they were leaving.”

“Yes they are but…” Frank shook his head “No, she’s not mad. Perhaps a little disappointed in you too, but you know the rules, no one stays mad in this house. We say our piece, we apologise, we move on. And we try to be better in future.”

It wasn’t quite a flat out lie, whilst he and Fliss could argue and stay pissed at each other for days, where Mary (and in the future no doubt Alex) was concerned it was a different story.

“Do you think she’ll let me go tomorrow?”

“Depends on how you behave tonight.” Frank shrugged, moving his legs as he made to stand “I honestly don’t know.”

Mary took a deep breath and Frank pushed himself to his feet with a slight groan as his knees clicked. Fuck this getting older shit.

“Will she dry my hair for me?” Mary looked at Frank.

“Go and ask.” Frank replied simply, taking Alex off her. She followed him out of her room and made her way over to their room, knocking on the door. He paused in the doorway of the nursery, watching as she pushed it open timidly and he saw Fliss look up from where she’d been doing her make up.

“Lissy…” she said quietly “Please could you do my hair for me?”

“Course I will.” Liss smiled, beckoning her in. “Come on.” As she stood up so Mary could sit at the stool she caught Frank’s eye and he gave her a wink before he turned into their son’s room and made his way over to the changing unit at the right hand side. As soon as he saw the outfit he gave a loud laugh and shook his head taking in the tiny little yellow palm printed Hawaiian shirt, almost identical to the one he owned, and jeans.

“You’re momma thinks she’s so funny.” he snorted, dropping a kiss to Alex’s head as he lay him back on the mat. “And to be fair, as far as jokes go, that one’s pretty good.”

*****

The managed to depart just 10 minutes after their aimed for time and arrived at the restaurant 5 minutes or so late, but all things considered that wasn’t a huge issue. They walked in, Frank pushing Alex’s buggy as Fliss gave them the reservation name.

“Ah, yes, Mrs Adler, the rest of your party are in the bar area. If you head through I’ll let your server know you’re all here and she’ll come show you to the table.”

“Thanks.” Fliss smiled, and the 4 of them headed to the left. Mary spotted Steve and the twins first and gave a little yell, running over towards them, Frank, Fliss and Alex following.

“Mrs Adler, huh?” Frank teased, his voice low as he leaned down to speak into Fliss’ ear, the warmth that had flooded his chest at hearing the guy essentially calling Fliss his wife evident in his eyes which were bright with love.

Fliss gave a shrug, grinning as she turned her head to look at him. “I just gave Adler as the name for the table, he just assumed.”

“Well, you will be soon enough.” He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

He expected some sarcastic response about how there was still time for her to change her mind but none came. Instead she merely beamed at him, her hand gently reaching up to cup his cheek “Can’t wait Sailor.” She bit her lip and Frank could do nothing but smile back like a complete love struck idiot, his forehead pressing to hers as he kissed the tip of her nose.

“Get a room!” Steve bellowed over the bar area and Fliss merely turned her head to look at him, raising her middle finger.

“Felicity Rose Gallagher!” Verity scalded “Stop being so uncouth. I brought you up better than that.”

Fliss rolled her eyes “Dad didn’t”

Bill scrunched his face up and shrugged “Touche Titch.” He chuckled as he reached out for Frank, grabbing his hand and pulling him into a manly hug “Happy birthday, Son.”

“Thanks Bill.” Frank smiled, turning to Steve next who did the same before he then greeted Sian, Verity and Roberta with hugs and kisses to the cheek before he ruffled Charlie and Joel’s hair as they came over and hugged him round his waist. “You two grown since last week?” he asked, looking at the 2 boys whose heads were both now almost level with his ribcage.

“Feels like it.” Sian mumbled “Mind you, not like their father is a small man is it?”

Steve opened his mouth, grinning to make a dirty comment no doubt about his size so to speak but instead he gave a yelp as Verity reached up and slapped the back of his head “Don’t even think about it Steven.” She pointed at him.

“Mum…” he wailed as Frank chuckled, moving to the bar after checking if anyone else needed a drink.

“This is on us tonight.” Bill pushed up next to him, waving his hand at the bar tender “Yeah, on the tab for table 20, thanks…”

“Bill, there’s no need.” Frank began the usual protest whenever either of his future in-laws insisted on paying but as normal Bill shook his head.

“I know but we want to.” He shrugged “I mean what’s the world coming to when I can’t treat my kids to dinner huh?”

Frank sighed a little and smiled “Thanks.”

Bill nodded as Frank placed his order- a pilsner for him, lemonade for Mary and a tonic water for Fliss who had said she would drive home. They’d debated getting a cab but as she had assumed she would be up early in the morning to drive to the Competition and said she’d prefer to drive. Now that was all hanging in the balance due to Mary’s earlier behaviour, or lack of more to the point.

Shortly after they were shown to their table, Mary taking a seat next to the twins in between Verity and Bill. When both Steve and Frank began to tell them to sit where they could keep an eye on them, Verity scoffed and waved them away, her arm dropping round Mary.

“My pudding can sit next to me if she wants.” She pouted and Frank rolled his eyes before shooting Mary a look.

“First sign of any nonsense…”

“I know.” She cast her eyes down before she looked at him. “Please can I have my Tablet?”

Frank looked at Fliss and she nodded, reaching into the bag under the stroller for it and handing it over.

“Volume down.” Frank instructed as he passed it round and she took it with a thanks. The three kids huddled round it as Mary turned it on, no doubt looking at their latest Minecraft game or whatever the hell it was the three of them seemed to spend half their lives connected to one another over the internet for. Whilst Frank was conscious most people might consider this lazy parenting, he saw it as being no different to them having a toy or colouring book at the table and so left them to it, as they began to chatter amongst themselves, only being interrupted when they were asked to pick what they wanted to eat. Once the orders were placed and another round of drinks appeared, Frank was handed 3 gift bags over the table, blushing slightly as he took them with thanks. Bill and Verity had bought him a bottle of 15 year Barrell Craft Spirits Bourbon and a new pair of Ray Bans after his had met a sticky end when Alex had pulled them off his face and then dropped them onto the floor where Fliss had accidentally stood on them, cracking the lens. Fully aware of how expensive both those items were he thanks them, whilst reprimanding them once more for spending too much money on them to which Verity hushed him and Bill merely rolled his eyes giving a shrug. Roberta had gotten him a new tool belt for him to use when working on the boat which he was really pleased with. As he showed it to Fliss she cheekily quipped in a quiet voice that he could finally get rid of the spanner in his pocket which had made Sian choke on her drink when she overheard. Steve pat her on her back as she sorted herself out, and then Frank reached into the final bag from Steve, Sian and the boys. He thanked them for the 6 pack of Sam Adams, which could sometimes be hard to find in the stores in Florida, nodded in appreciation at the new Patriots Jersey they’d gotten him with ADLER arched over the back, and reached in to pull the last item out, which was a blue baseball cap.

“What the…” he scoffed and looked at Steve who had broken into a huge guffaw of laughter at the look of disgust on Franks face. Bill and Verity also started to chuckle and as Fliss reached out to turn it towards her she snorted as Roberta slapped the top of the table in utter hysterics as the white letters MAGA stood out clear against the dark navy.

“That was his idea, not mine.” Sian protested as Frank looked down, shaking his head at the joke before he spotted the small writing under the larger letters. “Make the Asshole Gone Again.” He read, and at that he gave a loud laugh. “Wonder if I’ll get away with wearing it for work?”

"I thought you said you were voting Trump?" Roberta’s voice was serious and Frank shook his head, taking a swig from his beer, as she gave him a cheeky grin.

"Don't start him off again, please Roberta!" Fliss groaned "I had to stop him putting his foot through the TV last night when they showed that Jordan Klepper vs Trump Supporters section on the Daily Show."

"He’s an ass clown." Frank replied and Steve laughed.

“Suppose being a Democrat is part and parcel of coming from Mass, huh Frank?”

“What, like being Anti-Tory is part and parcel of being from Merseyside?” Frank shot back and Steve gave a grin, raising his glass in his direction.

“Correct!” Steve nodded enthusiastically.

“Damned Tories…” Bill shook his head. “Johnson doesn’t know his arse from his elbow.”

“You know, I seriously think you should be IQ tested before you're allowed to vote.” Fliss shrugged and Roberta leaned forward.

“Yeah but, how can you test what ain’t there?"

Everyone at the table laughed as Frank reached for his beer. "Actually, if you think about it, it’s pretty simple." he swallowed a mouthful of his drink and looked at Roberta "One question- are you voting Trump? If they answer yes then they clearly have the IQ of a goldfish, right to vote denied."

The table laughed again and it wasn’t long then until their starters arrived and the chatter slowed as everyone tucked in, Fliss taking a minute or so to settle Alex who had woken up with perfect timing as ever.

“You want me to sort him?” Frank lay a hand on her thigh and she shook her head, handing the baby a teething ring.

“No, I got it.” She smiled, “Besides he’s good now.”

Frank gave her knee a squeeze and then glanced across the table where Bill was looking at Mary.

“So, you all set for your last competition tomorrow?” he asked and Frank let out a little groan.

“I err…” Mary’s eyes fell down towards her food “I don’t know if I’m going.”

“Why not?” Verity asked.

Frank looked at Fliss, who had been about to open her mouth and gently shook his head. He wanted Mary to be the one to explain, she was the one that had misbehaved after all.

“Because I was naughty.” She shrugged “So Fliss and Frank said they don’t know if I can go.”

Verity and Bill looked at one another before they both glanced over the table at Frank and Fliss. Fliss raised her eyebrows a little as Frank reached for his drink.

“Oh, well, I’m sure you’ve learned your lesson.” Verity looked at Mary and she nodded again, her eyes still on her plate, brimming with tears.

“It all depends on tonight.” Frank spoke softly “Good behaviour over dinner and we’ll think about it.”

“Really?” Mary asked, looking up and he nodded.

“Really.”

“What did you do?” Charlie asked.

“Never you mind.” Sian cut him off, looking at him.

“It doesn’t matter what Mary did.” Fliss stated simply “It was dealt with and that’s that. No need to talk about it anymore.”

“But…”

“Charlie, stop.” Steve said sternly. Charlie narrowed his eyes at his dad and Steve pointed his fork at him “Carry on mate, see where that attitude gets you.”

Threat received and understood, Charlie went back to eating and the talk struck up once more about Frank and Fliss’ trip to Vermont the weekend after. The more they talked about it, the more Frank found himself getting excited. 3 nights alone with Fliss in a cabin in the middle of what he was hoping would be a decent covering of snow sounded like his idea of heaven.

Dinner passed with no more talk of misbehaving children and at just gone 9pm they finished desert and Frank sat back, the waistband of his jeans feeling a hell of a lot tighter than they had when he arrived.

“Think I’m having a food baby.” Fliss groaned besides him and he turned to her, raising his eyebrows.

“As long as it’s not a real one.”

She snorted into her lemonade, shaking her head “Oh no…”

“You not fancy another?” Sian, who had heard the exchanged asked and Fliss looked at her, hesitating a little.

“Not at the moment, no.”

“Well that’s a step up from the ‘Oh,Christ no’ you spluttered last time the subject was raised” Frank teased and she nudged him with her elbow as Steve sniggered.

“You can shut up as well!” Fliss glared at him

“Ah come on Titch, another baby in the family would be great.”

“Well you have another, if you want one so bad!”

“We are.” Sian spoke and at that the table fell silent. All eyes turned to her, Verity and Bill exchanging a glance with one another as Fliss looked from Sian, to Steve who leaned back in his chair, arm falling round his wife’s shoulder, a smug smirk on his handsome face.

“No, are you…really?” Verity’s hand fell to the hollow of her throat as Sian blushed a little, nodding.

“We found out last week.” Sian smiled, looking at Steve “We wanted to get you all together and…”

The table fell silent before there was a sudden flurry of excited voices and the scraping of chairs as everyone stood up to hug one another and offer congratulations.

“What’s going on?” Joel piped up and Steve smiled as he sat back down having just received a huge bro hug from Frank.

“We just told everyone about the baby.” He smiled and the twin’s faces fell into identical expressions of understanding.

“What baby?” Mary asked.

“The one Aunty Sian’s gonna have.” Frank looked at her.

“You having a baby?” Mary looked across the table.

“We sure are.” Steve beamed.

“That’s so cool!” Mary grinned.

“So, when are you due?” Fliss asked and Sian smiled.

“Middle of October.” She said “So I’m gonna be huge at your wedding.”

“Especially if its twins again.” Mary chipped in and Frank turned to look at her, before he bit his lip and glanced back up at Steve who’d paled a little.

“You know it is a possibility…” Roberta grinned “Happened to a friend o’ma sister’s. Two sets of twins.”

“Oh, just think Bill!” Verity beamed “Another two grandkids…”

“Mum, shut up!” Steve groaned as the table laughed.

Not long after the happy news, everyone agreed that it was time to be heading home. After another mini argument between Bill, Steve, Roberta and Frank about the check, which Steve and Frank both lost, the party all gathered their things and headed out to the parking lot.

“Roberta, you need a lift?” Fran asked but before she could answer Verity shook her head.

“She’s coming back to ours. We have a bottle of Rioja to crack open.”

Bill let out a dramatic sigh “Can I come sleep in your guest place-ow!” he yelled as Roberta reached up and slapped him round the back of the head.

With a snort Frank clipped Alex into the baby seat and after another goodbye to everyone they headed home arriving just before 10.

“Did you have a nice night?” Fliss asked Frank as they walked up towards the door and Frank nodded, dropping a kiss to her head.

“It was fantastic, the whole day has been great. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Shame your mom couldn’t make it.”

“Well she’s still getting over that virus but I was thinking. Maybe near Mary’s birthday we could head up to Mass? We haven’t been since…” he trailed off and Fliss instantly understood why, the last time they’d been in Boston had been when Mary had been taken ill and John had attacked Fliss.

“I think that’s a great idea.” Fliss said as Frank unlocked the door. “It’s a short enough flight for Alex and it would be nice to go.”

Frank smiled as they all stepped inside and Thor came charging out of the kitchen to greet them all.

“Do I have to go to bed or can I watch TV?” Mary asked, looking up “It is Saturday…”

“Well, I would say yes but we have an early start tomorrow.” Fliss looked at Frank and he instantly understood.He rolled his eye softly before giving a concessive nod and Fliss continued “I mean that is if we wanna get to the show on time.”

“I can go?” Mary’s head whipped to look at them both and Fliss nodded.

“Yes, you can go.”

“Oh my god thank you, thank you!” Mary shot over to hug her, her arms wrapping round Fliss’ waist “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“I know.” Fliss dropped a kiss to her head. “Now skoot, we’re gonna be up at 6.”

Mary hugged her again, then turned to Frank who swung her up with a groan “Stop growing will ya?”

“I’ll try!” she giggled, squishing his cheeks between her hands. “Love you dad.”

Dad.

Frank felt his stomach twist, and he glanced at Fliss whose hand had flown to her mouth, her eyes wide. She hastily swallowed, recovering herself, her eyes glassing over as she shifted Alex’s car seat in her arms before she turned to place it on the coffee table.

“I love you too.” Frank cleared his throat, as he dropped Mary to the floor “Go on, I’ll come tuck you in in five.”

She skipped off up the stairs, Fred hot on her heels and as soon as her door shut Frank turned to Fliss.

“You ok?” she asked and he nodded, his eyes full of unshed tears as he sank down onto the arm of the couch. “How do you feel?”

“I don’t know.” He replied softly, and he truly didn’t. “Shocked, a little. I guess, that even despite the adoption I never…well, I never anticipated that because she’s not actually mine and…”

His face screwed up a little, and Fliss stepped in between his legs her arms wrapping around his broad shoulders. He pressed his face into her chest, his arms curling around her waist as she gently stroked one hand through his hair and down his neck.

“Of course she’s yours.” She whispered, dropping a kiss to his head. “I keep telling you this. In every single way possible bar biologically, she’s your daughter Frank. We got the paper work to prove it.” At that he spluttered a little laugh and Fliss pulled back to look at him, her hands cupping his face as she wiped away a single tear that had fallen down his cheek.

“We just never talked about it.” He shrugged a little lamely and Fliss smiled.

“Somethings you just can’t prepare for, no matter how much philosophy or logic you try and apply.” Her brown eyes locked onto his “This was just, well, it was a natural thing. I can’t explain it any better than that. The question is, did it feel uncomfortable?”

“No.” Frank answered honestly as he shook his head, taking a deep breath, his lip quivering. “And that’s what shocked me the most. I always thought I’d hate it but…”

“But you didn’t?”

“No.”

“And are you gonna be okay if she keeps calling you dad?”

He nodded and Fliss gently bent down to kiss him softly, before pulling away “Then roll with it. Like Dad did with me. You know, if you wanted to you speak to him then I’m sure he’d-“

“I already did.” Frank shrugged a little. “Months ago, just after we’d moved in here and we’d decided to adopt her. He told me about how you’d made that wish at your birthday and…” Frank took a deep breath “And I know Mary’s always said she wishes I was her dad and I guess, well if I’m honest there’s always been this part of me that wishes I was, despite Diane.”

“Diane would be happy, I’m sure.” Fliss looked at him “Frankie, I know this is probably gonna sound so shit, but, well there’s a reason she came to you to…well to do what she did, because she trusted you with her daughter. And you’ve done her proud baby, so proud.”

Frank felt the burning in his nose as he scrunched his face up in an attempt to stem the tears that were threatening to overwhelm him and once more Fliss wrapped her arms around him, gently rubbing between his shoulder blades. “What do I do now?” he whispered “How do I react?”

“You don’t “Fliss replied, kissing his head “You take a minute, then you go upstairs and tuck her in as usual. Don’t make a big thing about it or she’ll start to worry. Chances are she hasn’t even realised she’s said it.”

“And if she has?”

“Well then be honest. Tell her its okay.” She felt Frank nod and then she stepped back, her hands on his shoulders. “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay.” He stood up, wiping his face. He took a deep breath and glanced down at Fliss and smiled, “I love you.”

“Love you too.” She smiled “Now go on, I’ll check the doors and be up with you in a second.”

Frank climbed the stairs, taking a deep breath before he knocked gently and walked into Mary’s room. She was already in bed, Fred curled by her feet and as Frank crossed the room he almost tripped over her discarded clothes.

“Seriously?” Frank pointed them as they lay on the bedroom floor. “Wardrobe, not floordrobe Stack!”

“Oops.” Mary grimaced and Frank rolled his eyes, picking the items up, tossing them onto the bean bag under the bed.

“If they’re clean put them away, if not put them in your laundry hamper.” He instructed, leaning against the rails of her bed.

“Sorry, I’ll do it tomorrow.” Mary shuffled onto her side to look at him. “Did you have a good birthday?”

“The best.” Frank smiled honestly “Got to spend it with all my favourite people. And you.” Mary shoved him gently and he laughed, “Joking, joking!” he smiled, brushing her hair back off her face “You know you’re my best girl.”

“What about Fliss?” Mary narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“She’s my best woman.” Frank answered easily. Mary looked at him before she smiled, accepting his explanation. “You excited about tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Mary nodded “And nervous.”

“Nothing to be nervous about.” Frank shook his head “Just go out there and enjoy it. You’ve done so well for a first season, Fliss was saying that earlier. We’re proud of you sweetheart.”

“Thanks.” She grinned “Hey, Frank?”

“Yeah?”

“You know what I said before...downstairs?”

Frank took a deep breath “I do.”

“Did it bother you?”

“Not one bit.” He smiled and Mary grinned.

“Good, because I think I’d like to say it more going forward.” She reached out, her fingers fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. “Unless you annoy me. And then you can be Frank again.”

Frank chuckled “Sounds like a deal, Stack”

“Okay, you can go now. I need to sleep.” Mary snuggled down into the covers and Frank smiled, pulling them up round her chin, dropping a kiss to her head.

“Night”

“Night.”

He turned to leave the room, throwing a last glance over his shoulder before he closed the door behind him.

***** “Mary, are you paying attention?” Fliss looked at her as she sat astride Monty, grinning ear to ear.

“Yeah, sorry.” She turned her head, “I’m just so happy!”

“I know honey!” Fliss chuckled, “And you did so well in your other two classes and yes we’re gonna celebrate that later but focus on this one now, yeah? You’ve gone clear so all you need to do is get round the jump off. You remember the order?”

“Erm…” Mary spun in the saddle looking round “Yeah its two, six, nine, double back to twelve, across to five and then you send him quickly down the line to finish at eight.”

“Good.” Fliss smiled “Remember, let Monty find his way. Don’t mess too much and if you think you can make that sharp turn after nine and cut through instead of round four then do it. If not, take the safe route and aim for clear.”

“Ok, yeah, got it.”

“Glad you did.” Frank mumbled, gently pushing Alex’s buggy to and fro as the baby dozed “’Coz that all sounded like a different language to me.”

“That’s because you don’t get it, Dad.” Mary turned to look at him.

“You’re right, I don’t.” Frank agreed

“You would do if you spent more time watching me instead of faffing with the boat in the garage.” Mary shrugged. At her words Frank narrowed his eyes and turned to Fliss who was biting her lip, a faint flush on her cheeks.

“Don’t look at me!”

“Oh, I’m lookin’ at you Cowgirl, because no one else I know uses the word faff.” He arched an eyebrow. “Well apart from your mom, dad, Steve and Sian…damned British slang!”

Fliss snorted “Ok, busted. But that’s not exactly what I said.”

“Well what was?” he dropped his voice a little and Fliss started to laugh.

“I just said to Jo when she commented she hadn’t seen you in a while that you were busy with the other woman in your life aka the boat.”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Hey, that engine was giving me trouble.”

“I’m sure it was.”

“And you weren’t complaining about me faffing too much when you were up there with me a few weeks back.” Frank dropped his head as he spoke into her ear and smirked as Fliss shivered at the feel of his bearded cheek scratching slightly at her neck.

“Well that situation benefitted me.” She muttered back, her eyes hidden behind her shades as she kept her face turned towards the ring, watching the first of the ten kids through to the jump off go.

“Very selfish of you Miss Gallagher.”

“Well when it comes to you I don’t like sharing.”

Frank gave a chuckle and pressed a kiss to her cheek “No worries on that count, I’m all yours baby.”

She smiled, and then winced as the competitor in the ring misjudged the turn between two jumps and the pony slammed on, sending her flying over its neck. Frank swallowed as Mary turned to look at Fliss her eyes wide.

“Why did she undercut that turn then?”

Fliss shook her head “If she’d have hugged tighter to the corner she might have made it but as it was she only got a two stride run up.” She bit her lip then frowned “Don’t you do that!”

“I wasn’t gonna!” Mary snorted, rolling her eyes.

“Good.” Fliss nodded “Like I said, you can make your time up between nine and twelve and then five and eight, if you need to.”

Frank groaned “Why couldn’t you pick a nice safe hobby…like swimming or something?”

Mary looked at him reproachfully “Frank, I could already swim.”

“Yeah but…”

“And Swimming can be dangerous, people drown.”

“Not if they’re supervised.”

“And besides, if I hadn’t wanted to go horse riding, you’d have never met Fliss.” Mary looked at him, fixing him with a maddening smug look because she knew that was the absolute ace card.

“Okay, you got me there.” Frank grumbled “Smart ass.”

Fliss chuckled as the three of them turned their attention to the ring and eventually after the other nine riders had finished, Mary’s name and number was called having been pulled last in the random order draw.

“Good luck.” Fliss smiled as she walked Mary to the gate of the arena before she set off, trotting Monty around the outside of the arena before the buzzer sounded. And then she was off. Frank hated this bit, and always found himself torn between desperately wanting to watch and also wanting to look the other way. He normally settled for a combination of the two, watching for a second, looking away, glancing back…but this time he found himself watching Fliss. Her face was set in utter concentration as she watched Mary’s round, her head tilting left to right, her hand making a pulling motion as she was willing Mary to slow Monty down and then suddenly she perked up completely, her lips curling upwards.

“She’s cut the corner, she’s gone for it.” She whispered and Frank’s eyes snapped back to the arena to see Mary clear the second to last jump and Monty picked up the pace. “Not too fast.” Fliss muttered “Pull him up, just take a check, a little one. Oh, shit!”

At Fliss’ last words Monty took off, clipping the pole with his front feet. It rolled in the cups and Frank held his breath before it rocked a little too far and fell to the floor. There was a collective sigh of disappointment around the ring from the spectators and then applause rang out as Mary crossed the finish line and turned to see the pole on the floor. She hung her head a little, shaking it before she trotted out and stopped by Fliss and Frank.

“Hey…” Fliss beamed at her “That was really unlucky. He only just clipped it.”

“It rolled?” Mary grimaced and Fliss wrinkled her nose as they set off back to the wagon.

“Fraid so.”

“Bummer.” Mary shook her head.

“What?” Frank asked, utterly puzzled.

“It means that the pole simply rolled off, it wasn’t taken straight down with the knock.” Fliss explained “Believe me, It’s the most annoying thing in the world.”

“But it’s the same result.” Frank looked at them both and Mary groaned exasperatedly.

“Don’t talk about stuff you don’t understand!”

“That’s me told.” Frank scoffed as she jumped off Monty and proceeded to remove her hat.

“Can we go see who won?” She turned to Fliss who had just taken Monty’s saddle off.

“Sure, let’s get him loaded up and then we’ll go.”

Once Monty was back on board, the ramp shut they headed back down to the Arena, Fliss pushing Alex’s buggy as Mary slipped her hand into Frank’s. They arrived back just in time to see the placings.

“Oh, that’s cool.” Mary shrugged “Saffy won the class.”

“You know her?” Fliss frowned.

“Only from when we were waiting in line before.” Mary shrugged “She seemed nice. I wonder who’s won it overall.”

“We’ll check online later.” Fliss said, before she grinned “You know, I’d kinda like to know who won the Junior Rider class for the season. Any idea Frank?”

“Oh, some blonde kid with an attitude problem.” He shrugged as Mary looked up at him, her eyebrows arched, hands on her hips.

“Well everyone says I act like you so any attitude I do have…” she drew a circle in the air with her index finger of the hand that wasn’t holding his before pointing at him “…is one hundred percent your fault.”

Fliss spluttered out a laugh as Frank blinked, looking at Mary then to Fliss. “I…wow.” was all he could bring himself to say.

The three of them politely applauded as the top six riders took a lap of honour before the winner took her own and as she emerged from the ring Mary let go of Frank’s hand and stepped forward.

“Well done.” She smiled at the girl who sat atop a chestnut pony and Frank watched, the pride in his chest almost stopping his breathing. He felt Fliss slide an arm round his waist and he moved, dropping his own over her shoulders as she leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“Thanks Mary!” the girl grinned “You were so unlucky with your last pole.”

“I did my best.” Mary shrugged “That’s what my mom and dad say matters the most.”

Frank felt Fliss stiffen a little besides him “Did she…”

“Yeah…”he whispered, dropping a kiss to her head.

Fliss took a shaky breath and hastily blinked back the tears as Mary turned back towards them “Hey, can I go get a drink with Saffy from their van? I’ll be like 10 minutes?”

“Erm…” Fliss wiped her face and looked at the woman next to Saffy who smiled and nodded.

“It’s fine.” She beamed “Fliss isn’t it? You run Sandybrook?”

“Yeah.” Fliss smiled.

“I’m Jenny, Saf’s mom. And we’re just parked right there.” The woman spoke “I wouldn’t mind a chat with you actually about a horse I have. He needs backing and you came recommended.”

“Sure, just…” Fliss looked at Frank and he gave a grin

“I’ll set off back with him.” he nodded to Alex who was fast asleep. “See you at home, take as long as you need.”

“You sure?”

“Course.” Frank gave her a kiss before he called to Mary “Hey Stack, I’m gonna go.” She turned and ran towards him, hugging him tight as his hand dropped to the back of her head. “I’m proud of you.” He said softly and she beamed.

“Thanks Dad.”

He gave her another hug before he turned and took the brake off the stroller, turning it round. As he made his way back towards where his truck was park he tossed a glance over his shoulder to see Fliss now in a full on laugh at something the woman called Jenny had said, head tipped back, shoulders shaking, her pretty profile simply radiating happiness.

And right there, Frank knew there couldn’t possibly be ANY man in the world who felt the sheer contentment and love that he did.

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #gifted #gifted fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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andy-loves-corgis · 4 years

Text

All of The Lights - Ch 8 (TRR AU)

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Well… It’s Riley and her pain in this one.

Rating: M (I can’t make them not curse I guess…).

Word count: ~ 6,800 (longest chapter I ever wrote)

Notes: There will be one big note at the end. But just thank you for still being here!

WARNING: Read the Prologue! Every chapter has TWO timelines, Before (about a year before the Prologue) and After (two years after the prologue), if you don’t pay attention to that you might get confused!

Hardest to Love

And what we had is dead inside, yeah You're actin' like it's still alive And you still wanna make it right, yeah I know But I've been the hardest to love

BEFORE

How long had she been taking that shower?

The sound of the water hitting the porcelain tiles could be considered deafening to some, but right now there was so much noise inside Riley's head that the droplets served only as white noise.

Steam was clouding her senses, although not as much as the overwhelming feeling of awareness. She could still feel the heat emanating from his body and the thought itself made her short of breath, could she indulge in the sensation growing at the pit of her stomach?

No!

Riley had only slept for 4 hours straight, then she was brought back to consciousness by her racing heart, her head couldn’t rest for what have happened mere hours ago, and flashes would take her mind. She knew it would be useless to overthink what happened, the simple fact that by reliving the night before she was inundated with nervousness told her enough.

It was like a fire, she knew that, it would only grow if she wanted it to, if she fed it the right thoughts, the right feelings… and right now her heart was enjoying it all too much.

A ragged breath left her throat while she sat on the rim of her tub, massaging the stiffness out of her left foot, pushing it a little too hard, bringing her back to reality, a reality where these feelings were better to remain an illusion.

Ouch

In about an hour she should head with Madeleine to the boutique, where the Fydelia heiress would pick her dress for tonight, it gave her time for a moment of coffee and contemplation in her favorite study room; throwing on some comfortable tracksuit she followed the smell of freshly baked eclairs.

The study on the second floor was one of her favorite places, mainly because no one ever went there, she could sit alone for hours, stretching, reading, eating without someone counting on her calorie intake… Although, it wasn’t empty this time, she wouldn’t be that lucky, she wasn’t a tiny bit lucky.

Drake was there.

Absentmindedly running his fingers on the guitar chords, with an intoxicating melody; using only three chords, his humming melting into the sounds. Riley’s throat suddenly went dry and she didn’t know what to do.

For God’s sake, he’s my best friend.

“Hey!” she smiled passing the couch he was lazily sitting; the music stopped instantly, and she could almost notice a blush on his cheeks, his eyes averting from hers and landing on her plate.

“Oh hey… food!” he reached for one of the éclairs and she pulled the plate close to her chest.

“That’s mine, I can see you already ate yours” she pointed her head at the center table, where two plates laid with only crumbles on top.

He huffed rolling his eyes while Riley sat across from him, making a point of picking a chocolate glazed éclair slowly and shoving in her mouth; when he laughed it hit her again, right at the pit of her stomach, goosebumps erupting from her skin.

The silence turned into awkward at the same time as the air seemed to freeze.

“Should we talk about it?” Riley was glad her voice didn’t waver, though her heart seemed to be beating in her throat.

“About…?” Drake took his eyes from his phone, which kept beeping with new messages, and glanced at her.

“About… about last night.” She put on a strand of hair behind her ear, looking for the right words. It was like she was a snake waiting to shed her skin, because it wasn’t possible the room was that stuffy.

It took a few seconds for Drake to piece it out together, seconds that fueled Riley’s imagination with images of the uncharted territory they were drifting to, would he be embarrassed? Or maybe he was also feeling the anxiety ft. exhilaration of their last encounter and didn’t know what to do about it.

But all he did was chuckle and get back to his phone.

“No, of course not.”

Excuse me?

Her lack of response triggered Drake to look at her again.

“We were both pretty drunk, you had just seen your ex, or whatever, make out with your worst enemy… and frankly, I’m a man and you look like… that.” He waved his hands at her velour-covered self and frilly socks a tad bit of redness on his cheeks. “Not that I would mean any disrespect. You’re my best friend and will always be, we were just regrettably drunk.”

Through all the morning Riley though she would be relieved by any dismissal of what happened from his part, so she wasn’t prepared at all for the feeling of her stomach churning, the idea of stacking other eclairs clearly not appealing as before.

“Oh… great” she managed to say with a fake smile.

“Don’t worry, little one” he winked, and she decided it was her leave.

“I wasn’t” she brushed it off with another smile. “Well, I have to meet Madeleine, make sure that your one suit is prepared.”

Drake just chuckled again, tossing his phone on the table and getting back to the hypnotic melody of his guitar.

“Alright, boss!”

Once out of the study, Riley wanted to throw up, or scream, or kick something. She felt stupid and didn’t even know why, it hurt, and she didn’t know why.

“Where were you?” Madeleine annoyed tone filled the room once Riley stumbled inside her fitting space. “Why are you wearing this monstrosity? Haven’t I told you how tacky is this look? You’re not some Real Housewife.”

“Madeleine, it was a gift, I never wore it in public, besides it’s pretty comfy and it’s Gucci, it’s not like Juicy Couture.”

Riley couldn’t tell who wore the most horrified look, Madeleine or the two seamstresses.

“It makes you look fat anyway. So, this is dress number 1” Madeleine said twirling on a lavender circular skirt gown, she looked so plain in it that for a moment Riley entertained the thought of saying she loved it.

“Didn’t like it” Riley answered feeling her phone vibrating on her front pocket. It was her father; he must have arrived at the palace, since he sent her a picture of her bed with several dress bags upon it.

Riley moved her attention back to Madeleine after her not-so-subtly cleaning her throat.

“Dress number two” it was a long emerald green charmeuse dress with strapless, sweetheart, appliqued bodice… like a prom dress from a teen rom-com.

“I liked the color…” Riley bit her lip, because she knew Madeleine would lash out at her sooner or later.

“What are you wearing tonight?” she asked as the seamstresses brought her dress #3.

“I don’t know, dad just brought a handful of dresses from home…”

“You’re not wearing something old, are you?” Madeleine turned to her.

“Of course not, Maddie!” Riley rolled her eyes. “I know Zuhair and Elie sent some things to Valtoria, the bags from Dona are probably not for tonight tough. Anyway, he brought it all, God knows I need more club dresses.”

“Dona? As in Donatella Versace?” Madeleine’s voice got high pitched. “Why are these people sending you things? You’re not even on the social season. Where did they even find you out?”

Riley was a little taken aback from her friend’s reaction, but judged it was only because she felt nervous for the night.

“Uhh, last year’s Paris Fashion Week…”

“I was there with you!”

“I know Mads, it was at the Versace show, you hate Versace, remember? I met this… girl.” She thought it was safer than saying it was Lady Gaga. “We chatted about the show, she found out I loved Versace and invited me to meet Donatella. Well, turns out it was this small after-party at Dona’s Presidential Suite. They were all there… Zuhair, Elie, Zac… we just smoked and drank some champagne.”

By the shade of red tinting Madeleine chest, she thought it was better to end her story there.

“You love doing that, don’t you?” the contempt in her voice was palpable as the words fell from her pursed lips, the seamstresses were lacing up a plum dress that fitted her perfectly. “You simply cannot be happy when people other than you are being the center of attention, but I won’t bite the bait.”

“Madeleine, you’re the one who aske..”

“You always do this! But now is my time… to lead the ballet, to lead this family by Leo’s side, interviews… tonight is my night. You’ll need more than some designer dress to upstage me.”

The words hit Riley like a whip.

“I’m not engaging in this nonsense, Madeleine, for real, this is your night, so it’s better if I just leave you to prepare yourself for your big moment.” She got up from the armchair she was curled up. “Anyway, this dress looks great.”

Madeleine didn’t even answer Riley, who left without looking back. A migraine starting to spread in her skull, all she wanted was a peaceful minute, maybe just focus on her breathing on her way back to her room would help.

“Dad!”

She found peace on those glinting blue eyes that just her and Alexander York shared; her father smiled through his thick mustache and spread his arms to her, completely embracing her small figure.

“There’s my girl.” the Duke held her tightly close to his chest before erupting in coughs.

“You ok?” Riley quickly stepped back looking as her father eased his breath.

“Sure, kid. Saliva went down the wrong way, just that!” he patted her back moving to sit on the only space on her bed that wasn’t occupied by dress bags, he pushed the dresses back and motioned for her to sit by his side. “How’s everything?”

“It’s fine, I guess. I got to take the boot out yesterday, that was nice.” She smiled at him hiding her turmoil, her now free foot dangling from the side of her bed.

“You know you can always head back to Valtoria if you want to clear your head, right?” he caught her by surprise with his statement. Another fit of coughs taking over him. “Court life has its perks, but it’s also a tad bit overwhelming sometimes.”

“I know, Dad. I was actually thinking about spending some time there, you know. Before… the semester starts…” a knot started to swell in her throat.

“Yes… yes! I keep forgetting about that. I need to put those reminder things on my phone, you can help me with that later” he laughed again “Although, there’s something I need to give you first, the other reason why I came to visit my girl.”

Alexander reached behind him for a deep blue velvet case with a golden phoenix crest at the center, it meant that whatever was inside was taken right from the vault of Valtorian jewels back home.

“Mimi left if to you” he said patting the box, Riley’s hands reached instantly to the golden bracelet Drake gave her, her eyes would still get moist thinking about her grandmother. “She wanted to give it to you on your Name Day, but I thought that it could outshine any other gifts you got. So, I thought that today would be perfect for it.”

Riley practically braced herself once her father started opening the case, but out of all her grandmother’s jewels, she could never imagine what was inside; the first thing she noticed was the glint on the center diamond, a dark shade of pink. Her mind took her to several years back, when she was just a child watching Mimi getting ready for her 40th Jubilee as ruler of Valtoria, the same case was open on her bed; Riley was obsessed by that tiara.

Back in the 80’s her family was one of the firsts to invest in an Australian diamond mine, now the largest supplier of naturally colored diamonds in the world, including the rare pink diamonds, which were Riley’s favorite. The tiara featured countless of them disposed on the V-shaped motifs, that looked more like hearts to Riley, she called the tiara the Ace of Hearts, and the name ended up sticking out.

Blinking again in her room at the palace, the 4-carat pink diamond stared at her surrounded by gold and platinum and its brothers and sisters of clearer shades.

“You’re giving it to me?” her voice was strangled.

“No, your grandmother gave it to you, she knew how you loved it. You’re a girl of age now, part of Cordonian society, it was about time you have your own tiara.” Alexander moved to kiss her forehead. “I can’t wait to see you wearing it.”

All she could do was nod, somehow her head was trapped on countless nights playing with that tiara, reciting the types of diamonds in it so Mimi would be proud of her, waiting for the day where she could go to all those balls as a grown woman in beautiful dresses, with her own tiara.

She was startled by Manolo arriving on her suite with his crew to do her makeup and hair.

“Oh, for all sacred apples! Is that the Ace of Hearts?” he exclaimed looking at Riley’s hands.

“Yes, my father just gave it to me.” Riley smiled, nostalgia taking over her.

“You’re going to look beautiful, what are you going to wear?” Riley looked back at her bed, settling the tiara back on the cushioned inside of the case, moving to open the bags.

Zuhair Murad sent a silver off-shoulder dress, that just wouldn’t go with the tiara, the three bags from Versace weren’t fit for the occasion, there were two Elie Saab bags and Riley started to pray.

The first was a black jewel-neck satin dress, with hand-painted flowers on the bottom of the skirt, it looked beautiful, but looked so modern compared to the classic tiara; crossing her fingers, she opened the last bag, it was breathtaking; a deep square-neck in dusty pink organza, embroidered from bodice to the bottom of the skirt in rhinestones.

“Yes! This one!” Manolo said clapping his hands enthusiastically.

After a couple of hours indulging Manolo on the light gossip she could afford to tell, Riley saw her dolled up version staring back to herself.

“You look amazing!” Manolo held her shoulders behind her, the rhinestones on the organza glinting under the lights of her room, although nothing could outshine the pink diamonds on her head. Somehow, her reflection looked like a glitter-coated version of herself. “Now, hurry up, your prince is waiting for you.” And winked at her.

Throwing kisses in the air at her, Manolo left her room, were she chose some nude flats to go with the dress, it wasn’t time to test her recently healed ankle. As Riley made her way to the ballroom, she thought about what Manolo had said, her heart almost beating out of her chest as she spotted the figure leaning carelessly on the statue of Maximus V.

The blazer of his gray suit was open, a lock of dark brown hair was falling lazily on his eyes, going back to place as he turned his head up to look at her. Riley felt she was going to faint, was that some joke? Something he couldn’t tell her in the morning?

“Wow” she could notice his mouth moving. “You are… wow, is that Mimi’s crown?”

“It’s a tiara, Drake. We’re not allowed to wear crowns” she laughed delighted.

“Geez you definitely gave ‘you should see me in a crown’ another meaning” Savannah appeared in a beautiful silver dress; Riley bet she had sewn herself.

“Not a crown!” Riley laughed again, but then stopped, as Drake offered his arm to his sister.

“Good evening M’Lady” the voice behind her interrupted them. “Has anyone said how breathtaking you look tonight?”

Liam spun her to face him, his blue eyes the most kind she had seen in weeks, her head was fogged, looking behind her, she saw Drake and Savannah reaching the side door, not looking back.

“Would you give me the honor to accompany you in this ball?” Liam took her hands and she looked down, realizing she hadn’t said a word to him.

“Of course, it would be my pleasure” she forced her cheeks up as he guided her to the main door.

What did she expect? It was crystal clear that whatever had happened the day before meant nothing to Drake, so why did she believe for a second in her own delusion? That’s what this was, a utopia.

“Prince Liam Rhys and Lady Riley York of Valtoria” it was announced as they made their way to the ballroom, as the court went down in whispers, about her outfit choice, her relationship with Liam, her grandmother’s tiara…

“Oh my God, this is the Ace of Hearts, isn’t it?” Kiara approached her with Penelope.

“Yes, my father just gave it to me!” Riley politely smiled at them.

“The luckiest girl!” Madeleine joined them, although she caught a twitch on her left eye when her eyes met the tiara.

“All the luck tonight goes to you, Maddie.”

“It’s not ‘luck’, it’s fate” Madeleine pretended to smile humbly.

I need a drink

Riley chuckled adorably and excused herself.

“Where are you going?” she was surprised by Liam.

“I was going to grab a drink”

“You don’t need to go to the bar, I already brought you what you’re going to drink.” He smiled at her, offering a glass of apple cider, her least favorite drink. “Come here, I want to introduce you to our Chinese Commissary, Chaoxiang Lee, his brother is married to a Cordonian noble.”

“Ahh, here comes your beautiful woman!” Chaoxiang exclaimed, there were so many things wrong with just that sentence that she had a big gulp of her cider to help her smile back at him.

“It’s a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Lee.”

“Oh, you remind me of my niece, she’s exceedingly polite just like all of you court women. We are lucky to have you keep us on our toes!” he sipped his champagne laughing with Liam. “I’ve heard a rumor you’re going to some American college…?

Riley opened her mouth to answer, but Liam was faster.

“It’s just a rumor, she’s not going.” His smile almost deceived her.

“Ahh, good choice young Prince, you can just leave these damsels alone in a place like America.”

She knew better than to disagree with Liam in front of people during court functions, so she just nodded, feeling the pain on her ankle intensify.

“Well, I have promised a drink to Duke Godfrey, I better hurry, it was lovely to meet you” Chaoxiang excused himself.

Riley waited until Mr. Lee was far to turn to Liam.

“What the hell was that, Liam?” she said between her teeth.

“Not now, doll” he pulled her to him a bit abruptly. “People are looking”

“Okay, I’m going outside for a smoke break, then” she gave him a jeering smiled and marched outside.

It took less than five seconds for him to follow her.

“I think you’re right, we need to talk.” Liam’s voice was nowhere near the contained tone he used minutes before. “I’m done with my feelings for you being met with contempt, it’s about time I finally let myself be heard in this relationship, Riley.”

“What are you talking about?” Riley was perplexed.

“You know how difficult it is to love you? I’ve offered you nothing more that my love, my heart, to you, for four years I’ve been trying and trying, and you answer me with applying for a college in the U.S. behind my back?”

“It wasn’t behind your back; I’ve always talked about that” Riley lit a cigarette only to see his eyes go dark.

“It’s time for me to clear out my opinions too” he inhaled deeply. “You need to stop fantasizing about a reality that doesn’t belong to you. New York is a make-believe story in your head, your reality is here. This is real. You need to stop being immature and selfish and start looking around to the people that you’re hurting. Because after everything you’ve made me go through, I still want you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, the choosing ceremony will begin, I need to meet my brother.”

“Liam…”

“I’ll see you later.”

Riley watched him leaving, then turned her back to the entrance, facing the garden below; she was shaking from head to toe, biting her lips with such force that she thought it would break skin.

Through her foggy eyes she noticed a strange movement in the gardens, she could identify Leo, but not the girl with him, she wasn’t dressed for the ball certainly, wearing jeans and a jacket; she seemed to shudder, even though the weather wasn’t that cold, Leo was stroking her cheeks lovingly; she finally notice the girl was crying.

She wasn’t naïve not to know what was happening even before they kissed, Riley felt strangely drawn to the girl, her tears flowing with such… freedom, her feelings free for only her and Leo to see, but nevertheless, free. They were gone when Riley remembered to blink, the orange bottle open in her hands, the sound of trumpets calling her back to the reality.

Back in the ballroom, everyone was expectant for the announcement, but Riley kept her eyes trained on Leo, he had always been worse than Liam at keeping a façade, he looked like a man ready to face his fate… if his fate was guillotine.

“I, Leonard Rhys, future King of Cordonia, come today to tell the news to all my court that I found my bride during this social season” to some his voice would sound nervous, as a man about to propose, but Riley knew better. “As for the woman who… stole my heart and will fiercely lead Cordonia with me, I present you… Countess Madeleine Arden, from Fydelia”

The crowd erupted in applause and shouting, but Riley felt dizzy, she should have eaten something before all that cider, it was a blur of Leo giving her the ancestral ring of the Rhys House; she remembered being pulled into a hug with Penelope and Kiara; she tried to escape as soon as the waltz for the engaged couple started.

“Riley… I mean, Lady Riley, are you ok?” Riley turned to see a Walker, but not the one she wanted to see. “There are still a couple of hours for this to end.”

“Yes, Savannah. I’m good” she put on her smile, ready to lie. “My ankle is killing me, and I think it’s better if I just lie down a little.”

“Oh, ok! I hope you’re better soon.” She waved at Riley going back to where Maxwell and Bertrand Beaumont were talking.

Breathing was only possible when Riley reached the corridor to her room, but she felt she was being closely followed.

“Riley” it was almost physically painful to hear Liam’s voice.

“I’m just tired, Liam.” She held her tongue, her hand on the doorknob.

“I know you’re not happy.” He said in an empty voice, and for a flick of a second that sentence filled her with a last gleam of hope, that he would understand her, that he would see her. “But you will learn how to be.”

It was as if her forces were drained from her body, she nodded at his words and he kissed her forehead; inside her room it wasn’t less suffocating, she pulled the tiara from her head, the pins plucking several hair strands from her scalps, even this pain was numbed by his words.

This is real.

Completely naked in front of the mirror, she traced her fingertips on the marks the embroidered bodice of the dress left on her skin.

Immature and selfish.

Her reflection mocked her, it could go and live the life on the other side of it as she was forced to stay there, forever. She didn’t revel on the feeling of her flannel pants on her legs, or the coarse material of the carpets on her bare feet, a sleepwalker wide awake.

The final destiny was the same place she began her morning, the cozy study was now dark, if not only by the fireplace; she sat in front of it as she watched it burn, the white envelope with the printed purple letters; the letterhead saying We are delighted to inform…

You’ll learn how to be happy.

AFTER

“I can’t wear that!” Hana seemed mortified as Maxwell held the mini skirt before her.

“You gotta show those legs” Max huffed and tossed the skirt on the bed, landing beside Riley.

It was a sunny day on the capital, although the air was chilly outside, Riley could smell the flowers from the nearby garden from her open window; Maxwell fussed on her closet some more, muttering some things.

“Here, try this dress!” he offered Hana a Dolce & Gabbana black corset dress and her eyes grew wide. “Shush! You can only complain when you try it!”

After a few minutes Hana emerged in the dress, she looked gorgeous, but her awkwardness was almost palpable.

“Why should I wear this?” her voice was low.

“This will channel a woman who isn’t afraid of her desires, a femme fatale, a Big Bad Bitch.” Maxwell answered with a flourish.

Riley burst out laughing.

“Should I be flattered you’re looking for that in my closet?” she asked still chuckling as Max made his way to her mini fridge and grabbing some tonic, as he pulled a flask from his pocket and three cups. “Max, it’s 4pm!”

“It’s 8pm somewhere! Besides, Hana here, needs some liquid courage.” He pushed a cup on Hana’s hand who also started laughing.

“Is it crazy that I’m doing it?”

“You mean going on a blind date with a girl that you met on the internet? That’s basically every parent’s nightmare!” Riley took a sip from her gin. “I’m kidding, Han. If you feel it’s right, just go for it, life’s too short…”

Riley got up and marched to her closet she knew the perfect dress for Hana, a ruffled lily-print bardot dress, also D&G.

“Oh my god! This is gorgeous!” Hana exclaimed feeling the fabric. “What about you two, plans for tonight?”

“Well, I actually have to go back to Ramsford to take care of some business for Bertrand” Max answered sipping his gin.

“The Turkish guy didn’t call you back?” Riley turned to him.

“In fact, I ghosted him”

“Max, you were never the same after the Mystery Woman.” Hana sighed going back inside the closet to try on the dress.

“Mystery Woman?” Riley asked puzzled and the younger Beaumont groaned uncomfortably.

“He had this affair with an older woman around the time of Liam’s Social Season” Hana shouted from the closet.

“How old?”

“47” Max practically coughed the number.

“That’s not all, she was married.” Hana said opening the door

She looked stunning.

“Well, that’s what I call coming out of the closet in style!” Maxwell whistled and Riley tossed one of her pillows on him.

“I guess that’s settled, thank you, R!” Hana hugged her and she reveled on the feeling.

A beep on Maxwell’s phone startled them, but it wasn’t until his brows joined at the center of his forehead that Riley started to feel uneasiness.

“I think you should see this.” He said with a pitied look directed to her.

He offered her his phone where a number of articles were pinned under his alerts on her name.

‘It was for the best’ Prince Liam on his former girlfriend Riley York

Riley stared quizzically at Maxwell who kept the downcast look.

“Keep reading.”

There was a bunch of things on how he fell in love with Madeleine, his social season, and then what she wanted to see.

Interviewer: So, I know I shouldn’t dwell on the love life of our future ruler, but you had an on-and-off-again relationship with an infamous figure of the court, Lady Riley York, we know she got into some trouble a couple of years ago, was it when things broke-off for good?

Prince Liam: Well we’re not here to talk about my past, especially about a person who’s very dear to me. What Riley and I had is in the past, she’s a wonderful person, we just happened to follow different paths. It was for the best.

“It was actually really sweet of him to say that” Hana muttered.

“Yeah, he could have said I was a lying bitch who was in a relationship with his best friend behind his back!” Riley tried to mock the situation but grimaced at the end.

“You know he’s still crazy about you, right?” Maxwell asked with another pitiful look.

“I really don’t know how to feel about that.” Riley sighed and got out of bed. “Come on, you have your stuff to do, I’m also visiting some old friend.”

“Are you sure? I can cancel…” Hana started but Riley cut her out.

“You’re going, Han. God knows my live needs newer gossip.” She rolled her eyes and pushed them out of her door.

Phew!

Riley marched to her bathroom for a long hot bath. This interview was something her therapist would love to hear about, it has been over a year of her trying to explain her relationships to Dr Strausser.

“How do you feel about him, Riley?”

As if she could answer this question, any feeling she had for either Liam or Drake was buried inside a box on the depths of herself, and she made a point of locking it and throwing the key away. Probably her cowardice towards getting in touch with those feelings were the main reason she had stopped seeing her therapist for weeks now.

When the water ran cold, she decided to stay true to her word and see an old friend, she should make peace with her past, right?

The Wood Wheel looked exactly like she remembered, even the sounds her boots made on the floor; she took it all in, waves and waves of feelings crashing over her: the smell of the crispy bittersweet bacon, chatter and chuckles, dim lights on the booths at the back, perfect for the couples. It felt like her grandmother’s lake house where she would go when she was little, welcoming and distant once her grandmother wasn’t there anymore.

She walked near the bar, scanning the polaroids on the Hall of Fame, there she was, full smile holding two empty shot cups, a gauze covering one of her hands; the first time she had ever entered there.

“Well, it’s been some time” the grave voice of Al took her by surprise, she smiled genuinely. “Are you looking for someone?”

“No” she wouldn’t mention Drake, not in a million years. “I just missed this place.”

“The usual?” he brought up the bottle of Maraschino and she shook her head laughing.

“Give me your best house red”

He filled a glass as she sat on one of the stools, she just enjoyed the final verses of a Torn cover, a blonde girl thanking as the sparse audience applauded.

“So, where have you been?” Al asked, washing some glasses.

“Don’t you follow the news?” she raised an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t believe the news.”

She took another sip from her wine.

“You shouldn’t!”

“So, where were you…?”

“Oh, I was at this luxurious resort… it also happened to be a rehab facility” she laughed, and he followed her.

“I’m glad you’re back. Have you talked to…?”

“Yeah, everything’s good!” she cut him, forcing on a smile; offering her glass for a refill. “Do you mind if I take this outside for a smoke?”

He shrugged and gestured her to go for it.

The clicking of her heels on the floor followed her; it was easier to breath outside, the chilly air smelled like freshly mowed grass, she pulled out her pack of cigarettes and leaned on the wood wall behind her. After a few minutes of silence, someone else came through the back door.

“Hey, do you have a lighter?” it was the blonde girl who was singing, Riley smiled and held her lighter to her; watching her medium effortlessly messy bob swirls on the wind. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, nice jacket!” Riley pointed out to her red denim jacket.

“Oh thanks, loved your boots! You look familiar…” the girl squinted. “But I don’t know many rich girls who enjoy cheap wines.”

“What makes you think I’m rich?”

“You’re wearing $1,000 boots.” The blonde shot a brow up.

Riley laughed.

“I’m Riley.”

“I’m Cassidy… I saw you on TV, but you look less…” Cassidy started.

“Suicidal?” Riley asked point blank as a joke but watched as Cassidy was taken aback. “I’m sorry, that was a joke… that’s why I don’t have many friends.”

“I was about to say ‘prissy’” Cassidy laughed took a long drag of her cigarette.

“No, I’m cool… Just used to hang out with the wrong people.” Riley shrugged. “So, you play here?”

“Yeah, sometimes alone, sometimes with my boyfriend. In fact, that bastard is late to pick me up.” Cassidy smiled. “You should come next week when he’s with me! You’ve seen the crowd here, bring some friends…Oh, there he is!”

A pickup truck parked on the darkened corner ahead of them.

“Really, promise you’ll come, you seem nice and your friends must tip well” Cassidy laughed. “You can even meet some commoner to dance with.”

Riley laughed again, throwing her cigarette but on the ashtray.

“I’ll give you my noble word.”

“Next Saturday, 8pm.” Cassidy waved and moved to the truck as Riley moved to the door.

When she turned to answer one last time her whole body froze.

Because her eyes adjusted to the poorly lit back and she recognized the truck, although, even if she hadn’t, Cassidy turned on the interior lights and she could see Drakes face as clear as day, getting closer and closer to the friendly blonde.

She gave her back to them as quick as possible, getting back inside with short breaths coming out of her mouth; Riley moved back to her seat out of pure instincts, her head foggy, almost numb.

“On second thought, I’ll accept the Maraschino.”

Al gave her a knowing look.

The car ride back home was silent, her driver certainly could read the room and as if knowing she wasn’t to be bothered, just put on her favorite playlist, Post Malone’s voice soothing her nerves.

I had a thousand bad times, so what’s another time to me?

“Thanks, Hans!” she muttered getting out of the car.

Sleep was a thought too far from her head, therefore, she let her feet guide her anywhere they saw fit; on a reflex she ended up on a study she hadn’t entered in ages. She roamed the room, sitting on the windowsill, her favorite spot there; even though she didn’t want to think about what happened the scene kept playing again and again in her head until not-so-hushed voices outside the study caught her attention.

“You were supposed to say that you were always in love with me, that your relationship with Riley was a way to get closer to me!” Madeleine seemed enraged.

“For four years, Madeleine? While you got engaged to my brother?” Liam tried to keep it low.

“Press is having a field day because you couldn’t do us all a favor and forget your freaking crush on that bitch.”

“This conversation is over, Madeleine.” Liam seemed closer to the door, and Riley pulled her legs to her chest

“No, it isn’t.”

Clicking heels echoed on the corridors getting far from her, she thanked God… a little too early, as Liam made his way inside, not noticing her in the first moment, loosening his tie and going straight to the shelves stashing the liquor.

“It’s not polite to eavesdrop, Lady Riley.” His voice startled her.

“Actually, I was here first.” Riley watched as he took a sip from his vodka and moved towards her. “Madeleine seemed pretty upset. Although, I’m surprised you said what you said.”

“Well… I’ve rehearsed enough times to say things like that” Liam said taking another sip from his glass, “It’s for the best, it’s over now… It wasn’t anyone’s fault it just didn’t work out… She was a good girl, just wasn’t the one… We just grew apart. I couldn’t say you wrecked me, could I?

He moved closer to her, sharing the moonlight bathing her sitting on the windowsill; she felt embarrassed. His hand moved to her cheek and the coldness from his fingers startled her.

“I won’t drag your name through the mud. We both know I could” His gentle hand now gripped her chin as his breath was felt on her lips, she gulped under his touch pulling her face from his grip. “… maybe I should.”

“It’s getting late.” She muttered and got up as way to excuse herself.

Liam smiled sadly, touching her elbow as she passed by him.

“Drake left you” his words slapped her. “I’m the one who has been here, waiting for you. I’ll always be.”

She gulped again.

“Good night, Liam.”

Riley practically ran to her room, locking her door behind her as to keep her demons away. She concentrated on her breathing until the knot on her chest diminished, her hands were still trembling when she opened her first drawer, picking a pajama. Her fingers danced at the bottom of the drawer pulling it up, it opened as a lid. The inside was untouched, like a time capsule sending her to two years prior.

There laid her grandmother’s tiara, the Ace of Hearts; a burnt piece of paper with an almost unrecognizable NYU logo; and the item that instantly caught her attention: a white iPhone 4, the secret phone she used to talk to Drake back when her mother confiscated her phone.

She roamed through the drawer finding a charging cable, she sat on the bed forgetting about her pajamas, waiting for it to turn on. It felt so small on her hands, so many feelings encased on that tiny piece of metal.

There were four voice messages, all of them from that fateful day; the notifications burning bright on her eyes, she knew she shouldn’t do that, not with everything that happened.

She pressed the icon to listen.

You’ve reached Drake Walker’s girlfriend. If you’re Drake, leave a message (laughing)

There was a loud gasp, as if someone just broke out crying and hang up.

You’ve reached Drake Walker’s girlfriend. If you’re Drake, leave a message (laughing)

I guess I just wanted to hear your voice.

She promised not to do this, bottled it up, but effortlessly a tear rolled from her eye. His voice was so broken, he was so broken.

You’ve reached Drake Walker’s girlfriend. If you’re Drake, leave a message (laughing)

I know I shouldn’t do this, but I can’t stop thinking if I had arrived five minutes later, I would never forgive myself. If I hadn’t come… God, I can’t… I can’t lose you.

The tear turned into a sob; she gritted her teeth to stop it, but it started reverberating through her whole body.

You’ve reached Drake Walker’s girlfriend. If you’re Drake, leave a message (laughing)

They let me see you… I… I can’t think about what you did… I’ve tried to ask Bertrand to bring that stupid stuffed dinosaur you kept in your car, but he said your car isn’t in the parking lot… why am I blabbering? I just… I lov… (cut)

Her head hit the pillow, eyes close shut.

What had she done to her life?

_____________________________________________________________

Riley(Before) Dress

The Ace of Hearts

Notes: Well, we did it! Thanks to the few of you there are still here I came back from this long hiatus. Life got another level of hard this year, so many things happened on the past 12 months, more responsibilities at work, planning my wedding, then… [insert Cardi B shouting Corona Virus], I was working for 12h a day at home in order to keep my job and everything I’ve worked so hard to build.

But I also gave up other things that gave me joy, like writing this fic. This chapter was incredibly hard to write, though I’ve never felt so accomplished. You don’t know how full my heart is right now, thank you again! I love you <3

Tagging the amazing: @saivilo; @kimmiedoo5; @pug-bitch; @bee1arw; @laurmillen; @axwalker; @world-of-dreams-and-muse; @rtinaz; @iplaydrake; @notoriouscs; @mind-reader1; @annekebbphotography; @walkerismychoice; @tmarie82; @blackwidow2721; @thequeenchoices; @missameliep; @jovialyouthmusic; @perksof-everything; @choicesmacmakes; @carabeth @drakenazario; @drakesensworld; @moneyfordiamonds; @ao719; @lynne1993; @ilovedrakewalker23; @msjpuddleduck; @drakewalkerisreal; @violinist3121; @wannabemc2; @gibbles82; @furiousherringoperatortoad; @jens-diamondchoices; @rainbowsinthestorm; @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore; @emceesynonymroll; @addictedtodrakefanfic; @texaskitten30; @dcbbw; @i-bloody-love-drake-walker; @mom2000aggie;

#all of the lights #AOTL #trr fanfic #drake x mc #liam x riley #Riley York #the royal romance #trr au

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noirandchocolate · 4 years

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So back in the late 90s my dad--a vry srs lawyer just like me, as you’ll see--developed a special interest in what’s commonly called “Classical Music” (a genre which record stores didn’t confine to the true Classical period, and I trust you know what I mean and won’t get pedantic at me please). He proceeded to spend about two years buying CD after CD and reading book after book (keeping one book out of the library for months of renewals at a time) about famous composers, and then bringing the CDs to work and playing them in his office.

Dad had a couple of pals in the office who he infodumped on in emails about what he’d be playing and what he thought about each composer and their music. These emails developed running gags, mainly how much Dad hated Stravinsky and loved Dvorak, booze jokes about The Five, Tchaikovsky being The Five’s enemy, and practically everyone being a “poseur.”

Recently Dad found printouts of some of these emails, as well as a document titled “Top 50 Composers of All Time.” And this, I am about to share with you below the cut, because it is silly and fun.*

*Disclaimer: These are my Dad’s opinions not mine (he was actually worried I’d be offended by his rating of Vivaldi!), and I’m sharing them because they’re funny, not because I want to start a serious discussion about which composers are best. So, thank you in advance for taking this in the spirit it is offered, and not yelling at me unless you’re yelling in an equally irreverent manner.

TOP 50 COMPOSERS OF ALL TIME (by KidK’s Dad)

1. DVORAK--He never wrote anything less than brilliant. There can be no debate, he is the Greatest of All Time!!

2. Beethoven--Overall, the best symphony writer ever. The true Hammer of the Gods.

3. Mussorgsky--Pictures at an Exhibition is the single best piece of music ever written. Could outdrink any of The Five.

4. Borodin--In the Steppes of Central Asia is the second best piece of music ever written. A chemist by trade, he designed sobriety tests for The Five, which they all repeatedly failed.

5. Prokofiev. Alexander Nevsky is the best music that’s ever been in a movie. His First Symphony is, well, “Classical.”

6. Mozart--Wrote the most consistently pleasant music of all time, all of it exactly the same. Gets points for writing choral music you can actually listen to.

7. Brahms--Four great symphonies, dozens of stirring Hungarian Dances, one nasty temperament. Coolest beard of any composer.

8. Sibelius--Drunken maverick of the North Country. Laughs out loud at the mere mention of Stravinsky.

9. Saint-Saens--Danse Macabre is the best piece of devil music ever. Would be higher, but he tried to defend Stravinsky.

10. Smetana--If there was no DVORAK, he would be in the top three. The Moldau is great!

11. Bach--Ranks this high because of the sheer number of pieces he wrote, even though they were all variations of the same eight notes. Loses points for having a bunch of relatives who also thought they were composers. Result: The Bachs were the Jackson 5 of the 1600s, with C.P.E. in the role of Tito.

12. Ravel--Bolero is what every piece of music should be, repetitive but compelling. Also helped Mussorgsky out on Pictures. Liking Stravinsky was his only flaw.

13. Rimsky-Korsakov--Wrote the wonderful Scheherazade and helped Mussorgsky with Bald Mountain. Designated driver for The Five.

14. Grieg--Next to Brahms, wrote more music for cartoons than just about anyone. The Hall of the Mountain King would be great even if it wasn’t mentioned in Eric Burdon’s Spill the Wine.

15. Liszt--Superb tone poems, great Hungarian Rhapsodies, had Roger Daltrey play him in the movies.

16. Debussy--In the Top 20 even though michael Jackson told Barbara Walters he is one guy he would like to meet. La Mer is excellent!

17. Mahler--Ranks this high for two reasons: (1) the first three minutes of The Titan and (2) the fact that he wore eyeglasses that are now considered cool. Had too much singing in his symphonies to challenge the leaders.

18. Mendelssohn--A Midsummer Night’s Dream is dreamy and his Italian Symphony is spicy without leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

19. Berlioz--The idea for Symphonie Fantastique was better than the actual music, but it’s still good enough to place Hector in the Top 20.

20. Tchaikovsky--Enemy of The Five. But wrote better holiday music than Handel.

21. Haydn--More fun than Bach, but essentially copied what Bach did. His titles for his over 100 symphonies are examples of poseury at its worst.

22. Handel--Calling his pieces Water Music and Fireworks Music even made Haydn laugh. The Messiah though is very good for choral music.

23. Telemann--Another Bach disciple, but wrote great trumpet and flute music. Less of a poseur than Bach, Haydn and Handel. Would rank higher if he had written more.

24. Janacek--Worthy follower of DVORAK. Would be welcome at picnics held by The Five.

25. Rossini--Wrote terrific overture music like William Tell and the Barber of Seville. Not as big of a poseur as Verdi.

26. Copland--A favorite of Emerson Lake & Palmer, so he gets a Top 30 spot. Fanfare and Rodeo are toe-tappers and the rest of his stuff won’t sicken you.

27. Verdi--Overall, the best opera composer, but who can truthfully stand all that aimless singing?

28. Vaugh Williams--Somewhat boring, but always pleasurable. Songs like Greensleeves are the best the Island Nation of England can offer.

29. Offenbach--The Can Can was the Macarena of its day. Fun music!

30. Balakirev--President of The Five. Would be in the Top 20 but, late in life, he actually said hello to Tchaikovsky. Islamey, though, is stunning.

31. Wagner--Must have had a tremendous press agent. Most of The Ring cycle is cumbersome and impenetrable.

32. Chopin--A poseur with a piano. Did write the great Funeral March, but couldn’t orchestrate his music to save his life, or the ears of his listeners.

33. Schumann--A poseur. Ranks this high only because he ran a music newspaper that criticized other people for being poseurs.

34. Schubert--Left his Symphony unfinished, but was nevertheless a complete poseur. Actually named one of his pieces “The Trout.”

35. Richard Strauss--Without him, Elvis would have had no introductory music. Next to Wagner and Stravinsky, the most overrated composer of all time.

36. Rachmaninoff--On first listen, he’s in the Top 10. On second hearing, he starts falling like a lead zeppelin. Would be even lower, but I stopped listening.

37. Bruckner--Has almost nothing going for him, let someone else name his Symphony “The Romantic,” but is still able to laugh at Stravinsky. It’s sure a strange world.

38. Shostakovich--Ponderous posturings for little purpose. Makes no impact whatsoever on the listener. A disappointment.

39. Respighi--Did wonderful things with old music of unknown composers. Would be ranked higher if he had redone Bach.

40. Holst--Only on the list at all to appease certain readers. Called his epic work “The Planets,” yet left out Earth and stuck with Uranus. More famous for “striking a pose” than Madonna.

41. Vivaldi--Poseur in a big ugly powdered wig. Wrote The Four Seasons, then basically issued the same music over and over again, giving it different names.

42. Cui--Have never heard anything this guy did. But, he was one of The Five and that gets him into this Top 50.

43. Elgar--Even more boring than Vaughn Williams. Did write Pomp and Circumstance, but he’ll never graduate to the Top 40.

44. Hindemith--You can listen to this stuff, but like Schumann and Schubert, you instantly forget you did.

45. Bizet--Wrote Carmen, which unfortunately for him is opera. Got beat by a guy who no one has ever heard.

46. Bartok--Actually tried to be as bad as Stravinsky but, like everything else he did in life, he failed miserably.

47. Satie--Was ranked higher until it was learned that he was part of a group of poseurs called Les Six, who worshipped Tchaikovsky, sworn enemy of The Five. Did write music for Blood, Sweat and Tears.

48. Johann Strauss--The Waltz King: Wrote exclusively merry-go-round music. A joke.

49. Gershwin--The Johann Strauss of his era. Whatever this music is, it isn’t Classical.

50. Stravinsky--Listen to a jackhammer pounding away on your teeth , while the J.V. football team plays tubas, and it will still sound better than this guy. No one was worse, EVER.

#kidk says stuff #long post #classical music #for the record i'd rank vivaldi much higher and would also rank schumann higher because i enjoy his scenes from childhood for piano #also for the record dad just likes writing things like this #and none of this should really be taken seriously #i'm posting this to entertain some people pls don't make me regret it

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somerandomg33k · 4 years

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I still don’t know who to vote for?

This election is going to be a weird and frustrating one. It is the first presidential general election where I am an Anarcho-Syndicalist. And this election in the darkest timeline has a Fascist as the incumbent. But the candidate that is opposing Donald Trump is Joe Biden. Almost everyone's last pick in the primary. The only worst candidate during this primary was Michael Bloomberg, who was trying to buy his way into the election. Possible to take votes away from Elizabeth Warren and Bernie Sanders, but that is damning with faint praise that Joe Biden is better than Michael Bloomberg.

The most likely results of this election are either the continued reign of a dictatorial Fascist, causes and continuing chaos and mayhem, or just straight up Neo-Liberalism. We are going back to a normal under Obama, which was terrible as well. Just not as awful as under Fascism. And we won't fix the problems that allowed Trump to rise to power. Since those are core systematic problems that the current Democratic Establishment is not interested in correcting. And the Republican party is just worse as they are OK with Fascism. Some of them want Fascism.

And let's not forget, serval people have very good personal reasons not to vote for Joe Biden. Joe Biden helped co-wrote the 1994 crime bill. In some issues, he was to the right of Regan on drug enforcement of the Drug war. He was always the most conservative Democrat in the Senate during his time there. He voted against busing 19 times. That is why many Leftists say that Joe Biden is Republican-lite. He is just the 'correct' color for Liberals and is the candidate the Democratic party chooses. So yea, there are two Republican tickets this election. The difference is one is not Fascist. Liberals know this. They are just in denial or flat out refuse to believe it. Because boy, don't say that Joe Biden and his running mate are anything but Progressive to them. Because they really hate that. "I think it is unfair to Joe Biden to judge him by International standards. I would prefer that he is judge by American Political standards," one Liberal said. Why can't Liberals admit that America's Political standards are shit?

Liberals have to believe that Joe Biden and Kamala Harris are progressives because they can only think of voting for progressives and progressive causes. They can't accept they are voting for a Conservative on the Democrat ticket, because they would have to admit that the Democratic party has moved towards the right as has American's Overton Window. Joe Biden is against Medicare 4 All. On that issue, he is to the right of Boris Johnson and other conservatives of the UK and Canada. Liberals have to believe they are voting for progressives on the Democrat ticket. Because if they didn't, they would lose faith in the whole Ameican Electoral system as well as Reform. It is almost like Capitalist Realism. People can imagine the end of the World before they can imagine the End of Capitalism. Liberals probably have an easier time visualizing the end of the World before they could imagine a different system than the current governance of Liberal Capitalist Democracy.

Let's not forget, something we already know, that Joe Biden is a bit creepy. He is a Patriarch and treats women differently than men. Whenever he meets families at the White House who have sons and daughters, he would say to the sons, "You have a critical job. You got to protect your sister from all of the boys. That is something my Dad told me." The women must be protected, and it is the men who must do the protecting. Joe Biden has a habit of creepily smelling women and girls' hair and touching their bodies on the waist and shoulders. Serval women have said that Joe made them feel uncomfortable. And this was all before Tara Reade allocations. #IBelieveTaraReade.

As for Kamala Harris, she did put trans women in men's prison, which resulted in one of them getting killed. "Kamala Harris couldn't do a thing." Is something Liberals need to stop saying. What they really mean is, "Kamala Harris choose to uphold an unjust system by blindly following rules instead of using her power and influence to change them." She attempted to block two Trans women's requests to get gender confirmation surgeries. Which, as far as I know, she hasn't really made amendments for. She wasn't good about slowing down The New Jim Crow. She was fierce to Sex Workers too. One of my comrades said, "As a trans woman and a Sex Worker, how should I feel about voting for Kamala Harris." She increased convictions for things like merely drug procession. She also wanted to jail parents for truancy. She has been called the Democrats Top Cop. Someone who is "Tough on Crime." Just like how Bill Clinton and Joe Biden were in the 90s. And that still has devastating effects on Black and Brown communities.

So many people have many good reasons not to want to vote for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris. And Liberals want to think that they simply "have their flaws." Again, I think it is just all to make it easier for them to be excited to vote for them. All of those issues, including their voting record on increasing Military spending too, are "merely flaws." And they will also shame people into voting for Biden/Harris with, "It is the lesser of two evils." Which again, is more of an indictment of the system we have. "But we have an election, and we should all vote." So we can't talk about changing the system right now during an election. So when can we talk about change this entire system? And Just like with 2016, "A vote for a third party or a no vote is a vote for Trump."

Further shaming us into voting for Biden/Harris. "Do you want four more years of Trump?" FUCK YOU AND SHOVE THAT DISINGENUOUS QUESTION UP YOUR ASS!!

Merely bringing up all of these complaints are being associated with supporting Trump. Another by-product of the binary way of thinking with the Two-Party system and First Past the Post voting. Liberals have 'accepted' Biden/Harris is the ticket. And they honestly wish we do too. And since we are vocal with our complaints, they hate us for not 'accepting' Biden/Harris is the ticket. They hate us for not 'accepting' the way the system is as it is. "I have accepted all of this. Why haven't you?" This can explain how so many Liberals would go "URG" at the thought of Joe Biden as President back in January during the Primaries to skipping to the polls to vote for Biden for the General Election. "Well, he won the primary." "I get to vote Trump out of Office" is more what it is about and not how great Biden is. They tell themselves how great Biden and Harris will be as a recon.

And with all of the shaming us into voting for Biden/Harris, instead of voting for the Green Party or not voting, it completely ignores the fact we did vote for Hillary in 2016. She 2.8 million more votes. But it is the Electoral College that gave Donald Trump in the win. Plus, in Washington State, my state, four of the Electors didn't vote for Hillary Clinton when they were 'supposed to.' Washington State is likely to go blue again. So I don't know if it is essential for Me to vote for Biden/Harris. The fivethirtyeight poll from Sept. 22 shows Washington voting for Biden at 58% vs Trump at 36%. A 22 point difference. I think I can safely vote for Howard Hawkins and feel like I didn't help Trump win. But that won't be what Liberals think.

Now with all that said, Donald Trump is still a Fascist wannabe Dictator. He is almost the worst. His administration is just letting massive amounts of people died because of Covid-19. He is encouraging people to shoot BLM protestors. He told the Proud Boys to "stand back and stand by," at the first Presidential Debate. He said there wouldn't be a peaceful transferal of power because there won't be a transferal, but a continuation. Donald Trump has sewn doubts about voting by mail. He will doubt any kind of election results where he doesn't win. So Liberals argue we most vote in such high numbers to show that it is the will of the people they want him out of office. To which he can easily say "Fake News." He did doubt the 2016 popular vote results claiming 3 million "illegals" cast fraudulent votes.

Another convincing argument is we most show that Trump's ideas can't win elections. Because if it continues to win elections, more people will adopt Trump's views and policies. It is sort of convincing. But since a Qanon supporter will win a seat in the House of Representatives, becoming a rising star in the GOP Party. The GOP Party has backed Trump throughout his time in office, Trump's views and policies will continue whether he wins or not. Even if Trump loses, we are not out of the woods yet. Not by a long shot. Trump base will still be here in this White Supremacist CisHetro Patriarchal Ableist country of the United Corporations of Imperialism. Who will always vote for the GOP and are not going away. Many Democrats will even speak highly of them. Nancy Pelosi prays for the Republicans. Liberals believe having an opposition is part of a functioning Democracy. Will the GOP no longer be Fascist? I doubt it.

"We have to get rid of Trump at all costs." I understand that urge. But the system gave us Trump and protected him. So how is voting and participating within the same system supposed to help? I know that Liberals think voting is very powerful because "So many people had to fight for their basic right to vote." And that is all true. The GOP only wins because of dirty tricks like gerrymandering and voter suppression. Hence, Trump is encouraging his base to watch the polling stations for "suspicious people wanting to commit voter fraud" and "rig" the election. It is straight voter intimidation and is happening already in Virginia. Part of the convincing reason to get Trump out of the White House. Biden will not encourage White Supremacist of all types to commit acts of violence against "The Radical Left terrorists" and "Antifa." Antifa is not an organization; it is an idea. Even Biden got that right.

Knowing how terrible Trump is, brings me back to Biden and how bad he is. Not as bad. Trump and Biden aren't the same. Trump is a Fascist while Biden is a Neo-Liberal, and Neo-Liberalism isn't Fascism. Neo-Liberalism just leads to Fascism, as we have already seen with Trump. I simply see Neo-Liberalism worse than how Liberals see it. Not enough to make a false equivalent, but still. Remember, if Trump loses, he could pull a Grover Cleaveland and run again in 2024. Imagine that.

What bothers me the most about Liberals changing their opinion of Biden, by the mere fact he won the primary, is that Biden is granted votes from Democrats and Leftists. I am sure Democrats do love old Uncle Joe. There were a lot of memes from the Obama years. And many Liberals just love Obama. Even though they fully well know about his War Crimes. It is that acceptance that I don't have in me. "Well, he is the candidate. So I will support him to get rid of Trump." And what makes it worse, Biden isn't really offering anything as well. He is against the Green New Deal. He is against Medicare-4-all, even during a Pandemic. What is Biden/Harris offering? Even Biden, when asking these questions and about his record, says, "If you are questioning whether to vote for me or not, you ain't black."

So Leftists will get nothing and will receive all of the blame for of Trump winning if we don't vote for Biden. "If you are questioning whether to vote for Biden or not, you must want Trump for four more years."

Remember, I live in Washington State. A super blue State. If I live in any battleground state, even within a ten points difference, I would vote for Biden/Harris. But since Biden is ahead by 22 points in my state, and I don't see that changing anytime soon, I am considering voting for a third party. Howard Hawkins of the Green and Socialist party is closer to my position. I would prefer there is no State at all and no President at all. Especially no single person having that much power, especially being the 'leader of the "Free" world' by virtue of being the President of the United Corporations of Imperialism. If the President of the United Corporations of Imperialism is the 'leader' of the 'free world,' then how come the World doesn't get to vote in this election. The UCI, Imperialtopia bombs the hell out of the middle east so much, I think the middle east has a right to have a say in our elections.

I do have to acknowledge those platform holders, people with a Youtube channel, a Podcast, or have a large following on Social Media, feel the need to tell people to "to out and vote. Vote as if your life depends on it because for some, it actually does matter." Although for some people, much won't change materially for their lives, like the impoverished and the disabled. For some, it is life or death. For others, it is a shit show, regardless. But platform holders want Trump out of the White House. They don't know who lives in what state. They don't know if their audience's votes matter or not. Since they are speaking to a vast audience, and they must keep it simple, they have to say, "VOTE! VOTE! VOTE!"

But, I am thinking, if they acknowledge that some votes are more important in some states than others, they will have to admit the whole in the United Corporations of Imperialism is unjust. Votes are weight more heavily in some states than in others. The whole system has to change. But that can't happen in a year. However, folks can vote on Election Day. So, it is easy to encourage people to vote instead of organizing to abolish the Electoral College. It would take too long to do it. It would take a lot of effort. So even bother trying. Liberals would rather pretend that isn't the case and just badger and shame people into voting for a candidate they have 'accepted' won the primary, even though Biden was one of the worse candidates in that field. Everyone's tenth or so pick.

With all that said, vote for whoever you want to or whoever you feel comfortable voting for. I won't vote shame anyone. Except if you vote for Trump and the GOP. Then you are a Fascist because you are voting for a Fascist and the Fascist party. Pure and simple.

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rykerandersdrabbles · 3 years

Text

Drabble 45

Potato, Knife and Flower - March 4, 2021

Ryker made his way over to a corner booth in the Green Olive and slipped into the side of the booth where he was facing the door and could see who was coming and going. When the waitress hurriedly walked up he went ahead and ordered for both himself and Cass since they agreed on him doing that prior to her arriving so they wouldn't have to wait too long since the place normally got packed with customers. Hearing the distinct sound of the front door open, his gaze moved from the waitress and to see Cass walk in, a small smile tugging at his lips. He watched her for a few seconds while he waited for her to notice him sitting off to the side while he finished up making their orders.

Here she was finally, sitting directly across from him, it had felt like ages since he saw her, hugged her, or even talked to her. He fought back and forth in his mind if what he was doing was the right thing. Just showing up as he did? Would she be mad, would she be happy? He had no idea which way it was going to go. At this point, he knew nothing of what she had been up to since the last time she was in Hartsville and they saw each other that one night. His honey hues couldn't help but look over her face, her bright green eyes, her hair was now longer, she looked beautiful in her flower print dress, just as he remembered her. "Hey." He paused for a second while he gathered his words then quickly continued. "You look beautiful, I'm glad you came."

He couldn't control the smile that was forming across his face again looking across the table at her. "I am surprised, I didn't think you really would show up and plus it was really short notice too." His gaze narrowed slightly glaring against hers. They actually hadn't separated on bad of terms, he just didn't understand or let alone know why she had left as she did. So therefore he wasn't sure if she even wanted to ever see him again, but to him, it was worth a chance he wanted to take. It wasn't like he could just push all that they had been through off to the side. "How have you been? How is Charleston treating you?" He just wanted to get all the basic questions out of the way so they didn't have to waste much time getting caught up.

Sitting his glass down in front of him he noticed she hadn't made up her own tea yet. He reached for the sugar dish and pushed it her way. "You're not drinking that unsweet are you?" He asked knowing she liked her tea to be extra sweet; he moved his attention to the waitress when she walked back by to bring their food. "I ordered steak, I remember just how you like it." He said and gave her an interesting look before he smiled. "And a baked potato." Ryker always had a soft spot for Cass, she was that one girl who always intrigued him since they dated for a couple of years in high school, he always found himself following her around to parties and football games.

He only nodded slightly when she apologized to him. He wasn't sure exactly what she was apologizing for, she didn't say yet. His honey hues moving back to meet hers again. "You left unexpectedly, I had no idea what was going on and I didn't hear from you until a few years later when you showed up that one night.." Ryker just laid it out there, they already knew all of this though. "Why did you not take any of my calls?" He questioned next raising his brows at his own question. This was his number one question, if she would answer it then she would give him the information that he has been wanting to know for many years now. The one night they were together in Hartsville when she came back, it wasn't a bash session on where she had been and what was she doing.

They merely ran into each other, hooked up and went their own separate ways that night, he just didn't think she was going to vanish that quickly again by the next day. "But I'm glad Charleston is treating you good, I'd be worried if you said it wasn't." He said glancing down at his glass before lifting it once more to consume some of the cool liquid before speaking. "Of course I remember, I remember a lot from back then." He said shrugging it off and returning the glass to the table. It was true, Ryker remembered pretty much everything that happened back then. He actually had given up a lot himself to be with Cass. He quit football, being the number one big thing, actually all the sports that he liked to play.

When he heard her question about how has he been, he needed to take a couple of moments to gather his thoughts. "To be honest." He paused looking back at her before continuing. "There have been some good times, but also some not so good ones too." The tone of his voice was one that sounded rather somber. There were many occurrences that went down that Ryker had to live with for the rest of his life. Not very many people knew about what he had done to his stepbrother, he never even told his best friend. He knew meeting up with her would be difficult for the both of them, he wasn't there to cast stones, he only wanted to know what was going on with her. From what he remembered they had a pretty good relationship.

"I did hear about your dad, I went and saw him a couple of times actually, this past year." His honey hues moving back to hers. "We had a good talk about a lot of stuff." He said shrugging it off. Ryker probably knew more than Cass thought he did, but he needed to hear it from her to make sure her old man was telling the truth. "What do you mean you're being paid to stay away?" His gaze becoming more of a glare. "Stay away from what?" He asked moving his glass to the side of the table, he suddenly changed his mind about it. Her next couple of questions just seemed to go in one ear and out the other. Shaking his head he moved his gaze out the diner’s window as he watched a couple walking by.

"I'm here for as long as I want." He said as he leaned back against the booth and crossed his arms over his stomach. "I didn't come looking for anything." He said with a heavy sigh. "I came to change a few things, then I get a call a few days later from my mom." Ryker couldn't help but laugh at Cass’ curious questioning, she wanted to know what her father had told Ryker, but yet he wanted to hear the truth directly from her. "You tell me what's going on and I'll tell you if your dad told me the truth or not." He said shaking his head, he should know better than to believe anything that was told to him by her father. He hated Ryker and for what good reason? There wasn't one in his eyes.

So he didn't last long in college and only attended one semester before realizing it just wasn't for him. It didn't mean he'd grow up to be a loser. But then again Cass was already gone by then so what did that even matter, Ryker had made a life for himself after high school. "So there was a man at church and what things happened?" He asked raising his eyebrows and cocking his head to the side like someone confused, and he was. Cass always was good at beating around the bush and not just coming right out and telling him what he wanted to know. That was one problem they did have in common because they were both that way and she apparently was still like that just as well as he is too.

Ryker always needed answers and Cass would always have a hard time giving them to him. Watching her squirm across the table from him only made him feel like she wasn't going to tell him what he needed to know. "Come on Cass just spill it." He said sighing softly, it took a lot for him to meet up with her and now she was going to shut him out again in typical fashion, another thing they were both good at. Hearing her change the subject he just went with it, maybe she needed a break for a moment to think about how she was going to tell him, even though she had already had a lot of years. She had to know it would catch up with her sooner or later, it wasn't like they just dated for a week. She was someone very important to him.

He smiled up at the waitress when she came around ready to pour more tea. He reached for the knife and he was ready to try and get something into his stomach. He told her thank you and she quickly left, she could probably see that they were having a very difficult conversation. "Yes she remarried, someone who already had a son closer to my age and they even had another kid together." He said shrugging his shoulders unimpressed with that whole family situation. "I have a half brother too." Ryker wasn't really too thrilled about having to share his mother with anyone else. It had just been them two for the longest time that he could remember. Taking it back to the question at hand. "Why is it so hard for you to tell me what is going on? Do you think I'm going to be mad?" He paused and couldn't help but laugh a little. "You left a really long time ago, being mad is long gone.."

#ryker anders #drabble 45 #3 words prompt #potato #knife #flower

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magic-marvel · 6 years

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I Love to Hate You

Prologue

Pairing: Peter Parker/Spider-man x Reader

Summary: You don’t know what it is, but seeing him breathe makes you want to punch him in the throat.

Word Count: 1491

A/N: Thank you anon for waiting! Sorry it took a while.

Request:

Anon - hey! can you do a peter parker x reader where y/n is the daughter of the leader of the avengers? and peter and her have always had an argumentative sassy no kindness filled friendship but they deeply cared and loved for each other and never showed it to each other?(like they ‘complain’ about the others grin etc) but she is kidnapped and peter has to save her, leading to a relationship?? (also, if this was a series, it would make my world, but you don’t have to!) thanks for reading love!❤️

WARNING: This is just the prologue, so I decided to keep it PG. But, later chapters will have more mature warnings like Violence, Language, and Kidnapping. Please do read the request given above to give you an idea if this is the story for you, if not then that’s okay you don’t have to read.

“Is it done yet?”

“No.”

“Maybe Mr. Stark should help.”

“No.”

“Are you sure? It looks like you need help.”

“No, I don't.”

“Then why haven't you finished by now?”

“Because there's a pest in my lab and I can't concentrate!”

You slammed a set of tools on the table, scraps and wires flew off your work space in a rush.

You removed a set of magnifying goggles from your eyes, resting the lenses on your forehead. Your gaze turned to the boy next to you, your jaw clenched.

“Do you actually need anything? Or are you here to bother me?”

You stared straight into his eyes, anger forming in the crinkle of your brows, your jaw visibly working on itself as you waited for the annoyance to answer.

“Well I would like my webshooter back, and Mr. Stark could have had it done by now.” Peter answered, pointing a sly finger at the device on your table.

“Listen-” You screwed your eyes shut, clenching a fist in front of you in an attempt to calm down. “If you wanna go ahead and bother my Dad from debrief just so he can finish your silly-string shooters then go ahead, be my guest.”

You turned back in your stool, pulling the goggles back over your eyes. You squeezed a screwdriver in your hand until your knuckles turned white.

“If not, then you are just gonna have to be patient and wait for me to finish.”

You popped a panel open with the screwdriver before replacing the tool with a small welder. The end burned white as you fixed a new attachment to the device. Something your father had cooked up for the web-slinger.

Peter said nothing more, just merely huffing before taking a seat in a stool across from you.

You continued to weld the tiny parts together, sweat pooling into the cracks of your goggles. You felt your back muscles aching, being hunched over for so long.

There was a squeak. You ignored it.

The small implant took, now you had to rewire the actual device to the knew attachment. You replaced the welder with tweezers. There was another squeak. The muscles in your hands tensed. Your eyes were strained and probably bloodshot by now. You spent most of your day staring through these goggles, hunched over a hot lamp.

One more squeak.

You took a deep breath, focusing on the device in your hands. You just hand a few more wires to go, then you're done.

Another squeak.

You just have to be delicate, loosen your fingers. You don't want to mess up now.

Squeak.

Last wire, just get this last one in-

SQUEAK!

Your hand flinched, dislodging the new attachment completely and taking a few of the neighboring pieces with it.

“GODDAMMIT PARKER!” You yelled, removing your goggles with a yank and throwing them at the boy in front of you. He caught them with ease, but the movement causing his chair to squeak once more. “I was so close! So close to getting you out of here and you just HAD to ruin fourteen hours of work! Do you know how hard this is? I never worked on your stupid party poppers before and I managed to read and learn the inner workings and blueprints last night so I can fix them for you! But no! You wanted to be here and annoy me and squeak in that stupid chair! I haven't slept Parker! I have barely even eaten because my Dad said this was important and he wanted this done before your stupid mission! God, I hate you!” You screamed, you were standing in Peter now. During your rant, you had moved around the table and gotten in his face as he stared at you wide eyed. He didn't move, it didn't even look like he was breathing at this point. He's seen you angry before, sure. But this was something else. This was from the heart, pure hatred spewing from your words. He couldn't help but feel each stab from your words.

You were breathing heavy, your features seemingly in a snarl. You waited for a response. You realized you weren't getting one, so you grabbed a fistful of your hair and tugged. You were so frustrated, and so tired. You just wanted to get this done, get one small task off your father's list. But it was ruined. You messed up.

You heard your name by the door. You turned, anger still on your features.

Tony Stark stood in front of you both, arms crossed and a face lined with disappointment.

“Both of you. Common room.” He commanded.

“But I gotta finish-”

“Now.” He interrupted.

You closed your mouth, holding back a good ol'fashion Stark retort. You turned, eyeing Peter. He looked at you with worry, but you just huffed. You walked past your father to the common room. Footsteps behind you followed you close.

“Now are you guys gonna talk to me or do I have to put you both in the 'Get Along' shirt?” You father asks. You sat on the couch with Peter, both of you facing away from each other. Your father was standing in front of you both, Steve sat on the love seat next to him. Natasha watched from her spot behind the couch.

“I was just doing what you asked.” You answered, not looking anywhere else but the floor.

“I didn't ask you to throw lab equipment at Peter.” He says. You stay silent. “What about you? Got anything for me?” He asks Peter.

“No, sir. I was checking in on my webshooters.” Peter responds politely.

You let out a chuckle, all too sarcastic for anyone's liking.

Steve says your name, forcing you to look at him.

“Don't be disrespectful. You got somethin' to say, then say it.” Steve has his brows furrowed at you, waiting for you to respond.

You chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment, thinking of your answer.

“Peter was being annoying.” You mumbled.

“Speak up.” Steve reminds.

“He was being annoying, disrupting me in my space!” You nearly shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Peter.

“I was being annoying? You were supposed to get my webshooters done by now! I have to train with them before going on the mission!” Peter defends.

“If you had just let me work on it in peace then you would have had them a long time ago! But you just wanted to annoy me and breathe down my neck while I worked!” Anger was filling in your throat again. Your face felt hot from yelling and you could hear your blood pumping in your ears.

“Enough! Both of you! Jesus Christ, I know you are kids but c'mon!” Your father pinches the bridge of his nose, mumbling to himself something about 'children'. “Go help out Bruce downstairs. I'll finish the webshooters.”

“What? No! Dad please!” You begged, standing up to face your father. You hated being Bruce's assistant. Sure, you loved him with all your heart. But his work was killer, and your father knew that. He always made you work with the doctor as punishment.

“Go on, I suggest you get a head start with what ever he needs help with. You'll be in his lab for a week.” Your father begins walking back to your station.

“Tony, isn't that a little harsh?” Steve speaks up.

“And you, Underoos. You'll be on window duty.” Tony ignores Steve, giving Peter his own punishment.

“Mr. Stark! I just did the tower's windows a week ago!” Peter pleaded.

“Well then the job shouldn't be too hard right?” Tony answers back, stepping into your lab. The door shut behind him, leaving you and Peter to stare at the door in silence.

“Thanks a lot, glue-stick.” You spoke to Peter before you walked back to the common room elevator.

You heard Peter sigh in defeat, his own body moving to his room on the same floor.

“It's not so bad kid.” Natasha commented as you walked by the couches. “Just a week and you're done.”

“Yeah but this week is gonna feel like a year.” You already dreaded the week ahead. You really didn't want to crunch numbers and work on graphs for the time.

“How 'bout this.” Natasha walked next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “When your week is up, how 'bout I take you out for ladies night. Your pick. We'll ask Wanda and Pepper if they can come too.”

A smile formed on your lips.

“Can I ask Bucky?”

“Of course you can ask Bucky.”

Natasha left you in the elevator, a smile on her face as the door closes in front of you.

Chapter 1

Permanent Taglist:

@rose-coloured-me @sunflower-anna @classiccollectionavenue @memyselfandmaddox @teeterparker @peachllobotomy

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nataliasecombe-blog · 5 years

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The Fashionable Pop Music Sounds Rubbish But Nonetheless It Is The Most Profitable Genre Why

Initially of last month, an impressive assortment of standard music entitled Now That's What I Call Music! 9. The 60s !1960: Pete Greatest joins the Beatles, The group invited Pete Greatest tobecome their drummer on 12 August 1960. 4 days after hiringBest, the group left for Hamburg. The Beatles started a 48-nightresidency in Hamburg at Bruno Koschmiders Indra Club.1961: American country singer Patsy Cline becomes a mainstreampop music hit.Cline was the first feminine vocalist who adapted to thechange and have become a profitable pop singer.Ziggy Marley is born: David Nesta "Ziggy" Marley (born October 17,1968, Trenchtown, Jamaica) is a 4-time Grammy-winningJamaican musician and chief of the band Ziggy Marley and theMelody makers. Canada has an extended custom of singer-songwriters and that's partly in because of its own folksong laureate", Gordon Lightfoot. Coming out of the Toronto 60s folks music scene, Lightfoot's native country would become his lifelong muse, penning such classics as ‘Canadian Railroad Trilogy' and ‘Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald' and yet common sufficient to appeal worldwide, turning him into Canada's most profitable modern people artist. A beloved cultural icon, he's been the beneficiary of numerous awards and honours together with the Companion of the Order of Canada - Canada's highest civilian honour. Other issues are actually extra speaking factors than criticisms. What's of a greater worth, an overview or the near microhistory of one thing like Jon Savage's 1966: The yr music exploded. You want each after all, although the hazard with a survey is that it may possibly seem to shape history to its narrative. So for instance Andrew Loog Oldham was instrumental in getting the Stones rolling, however they didn't suffer as a result of leaving him as instructed here. They want on to report their biggest albums, and a number of the greatest in the style. I exaggerate, of course. No historical past can wholly keep away from classes. But Ross's place to begin is novel all the same. In Paul Griffiths's "Concise History of Trendy Music" (1978), fashionable music begins with the delicious flute solo that opens Claude Debussy's "Pr¿lude ¿ l'apr¿s-midi d'un faune" (1894), simply as for Griffiths the theories of Boulez (who first touted the idea of Debussy as founding father of modernism) are the important thing to music since World Warfare II. But Ross makes gentle, to not say enjoyable, of the "pseudoscientific mentality" of the Darmstadt summer colleges in Germany, the place Boulez and Karlheinz Stockhausen held court within the early '50s, "researching" ever more cerebral ways of writing music. Instead of Debussy, he opens twentieth-century music with the Austrian premiere in Graz in 1906 of Richard Strauss's "Salome," a piece subsequently admired for its daring and also hated for its vulgarity. As for "bad" pop, for me, there are multiple reasons. When you may have a first-tier pop artist they usually deliver a dud at the start of their album cycle (Ed Sheeran), that's an unforced error. There is also earwormy songs that quickly become tiresome, the "MmmBop"s and "Shots"s of the world, that start out annoying and get an increasing number of annoying the more it airs. Some music is just shit, there is not rather more you possibly can say about it. "Battle Track" is a pile of garbage, however it has found its area of interest viewers (divorce parties; ineffective political campaigns). More than 230 music genres is still too abundant to create a comprehensible structure that permits straightforward orientation. The necessity for a overlaying framework is a matter that can be addressed in this chapter. Certain (although few) visual genealogies choose not to implement such framework, and don't (or vaguely) display clusters of associated music genres. When coping with quite detailed genealogies similar to musicmap, omitting a visible framework would seriously hurt any sensible use the map may need. Thankfully, this framework already exists as almost all genres belong to higher, properly-known areas" in the musical community, what we will name super-genres. Super-genres are merely the mum or dad style of any given style; the next-level, overarching family. Pop music is the style of standard music that produces the most hits. Successful is a tune that sells many copies, and the latest hits are listed every week on the charts. To get on the charts, a music must be released as a single, magicaudiotools.com although most singles are additionally launched on an album. Songs that become hits almost at all times share sure features which might be generally known as the pop-music formulation. They've a very good rhythm, a catchy melody, and are straightforward to remember and sing along to. They usually have a chorus that's repeated a number of times and two or more verses. Most pop songs are between two and 5 minutes lengthy, and the lyrics are usually about the joys and issues of love and relationships. Pop songs are produced by groups like the boy band One Course and the lady group Women' Technology, and by pop singers like Justin Bieber and Madonna. It takes a strong debut track to knock the Queen of Pop, Taylor Swift, off the highest of the pop charts. And that is what Cardi B did with the historically profitable "Bodak Yellow." The swaggering hit marked the primary time a female rapper scored a solo No. 1 song since Lauryn Hill in 1998. It makes complete sense, too, as the music takes Cardi B's no-fucks-given approach to life that made her an Instagram and reality star. If that is not the right encapsulation of in style culture in 2017, then I don't know what's. You will have seen the popular video four Chords" by the Axis of Awesome wherein 4 guys cycle amusingly by means of 50 pop songs in six minutes, interweaving recycled harmonic constructions to nice impact. At any price, you've actually heard these chords earlier than, again and again. Utilizing the Roman numerals of music concept, we could label them I, IV, and V, the bread and butter of the blues, along with the minor chord, vi. In the key of C, that might be C main, F main, G major, and A minor. The 4 chords will be arranged in a number of methods, and the Axis of Awesome make use of this by shuffling by songs which include completely different orderings, using their widespread chords to pivot.

Based on a crack group of Spanish philistines (using a complex snarkhive referred to as the Million Music Dataset), over the previous 55 years there has been "a progressive homogenization of the musical discourse." Which means transitions between combos of notes and chords has diminished: songs have much less modifications in them, and are less completely different from one another. As well as, the researchers used sophisticated algorithms to prove that pop music has change into considerably louder than it was in the course of the first half of the twentieth century, as record producers ramp up the quantity throughout the recording process.

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shaldreth · 6 years

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I fell in love with Lotor and then realized he's a fucking idiot

AKA: a (bad) dissertation on Lotor's potential as a character and how his motivations basically undermined all of it.

Spoilers through the end of season 6; written pre-season 7.

Let's just get my credentials out of the way first: I recently watched Seasons 1-6 of Voltron in the span of about 2 months. I am vaguely aware of some fandom discourse. I know very little about the original Voltron show or its plot except what I've gathered from a single day browsing the wiki. And finally, I love manipulative trash cans. Doesn't matter if they've got gray morality, complete amorality, or if they're just plain evil: I unironically enjoy their existence (the only exception is Ni Jianyi who terrifies me, but, well, I attribute that to good writing).

So imagine my delight when in his very first episode, Lotor demonstrated that he'd been very competently keeping tabs on the political status of the central Galran Command even while exiled by: rooting out his main opponents, publically humiliating them, and positioning his Generals strategically in the audience to ensure that the crowd's response was positive and enthusiastic, all within probably a quintant or two of getting back. ....And then he blatantly admitted to manipulating public opinion not five minutes later. ....While looking unfairly gorgeous.

As character introductions go, it set a really fucking high bar, and I think a lot of people were immediately invested in learning what his endgame was. Regardless of whether his ultimate goals were ‘good’ or ‘evil’, people expected them to be competent and..... worthy. Worthy of all the time and effort that was put into this character, and the show in general. And then S6 happened. So buckle up friends because we’re gonna take an in-depth look at his journey from potential political mastermind to... merely obsessed, like his father.

Immediately after being appointed Emperor Pro Tem, Lotor goes out and retakes a recently liberated planet to bait out Voltron. Which is.... something that we never actually saw his father do. Ever. Zarkon seemed content to let rebel planets stay lost, which is really silly and not at all a sustainable method of ruling an empire (suggesting that Zarkon probably would have lost control of a large portion of the Empire sooner or later anyway even if Voltron hadn't managed to destroy him in Blackout). Anyway, it showed that Lotor is a competent tactician, since he gets exactly the information he needs and does way more damage to Voltron than he probably expected to. He even follows up properly by calling in reinforcements to save his ass fortify the newly retaken planet, which may have given him a nice boost in popularity back home.

(It also set up a number of obvious parallels between Lotor’s Generals and the Paladins of Voltron. Excellent teamwork and loyalty? Check. Cheerful personality? Check. Big strong type? Check. Brooding, dark-haired second in command? Check. ...Wait, that makes Narti Pidge’s parallel. Or maybe Shiro’s, since she’s sometimes mind controlled....? ANYWAY. )

We start to see a couple cracks in episodes 4 and 6, because it becomes clear that Lotor is actually not spending that much time managing the Empire. He's way more interested in getting the materials to build the Sincline ships. At this point in the series he's still doing a great job of evading detection and throwing misdirection everywhere to keep Haggar from guessing what he's up to, so it starts to look like he's trying to undermine the Empire from within. I mean, think about it: he set himself up publically as a celebrity to strengthen the Empire, and then he disappeared and did none of that. He even exiled Throk, one of his biggest political enemies to Buttfuck, Space - Population: Ice Worms after his public humiliation. Which is a really bad idea if you want to keep a guy out of trouble, but a really good idea if you want to give a guy the time and space he needs to get angry, start another rebellion, and further destabilize the Empire.

Lotor has lived in exile for years; he himself is the perfect example for how people rebel when sent to some corner of the universe with minimal supervision. He should know better than anyone that exile is a bad way to actually get rid of someone, yet he does it anyway.

Season 4 pretty much cements the idea that Lotor never actually wanted to rule the current Galra Empire, and was only using its resources for his own gain. He's removed from the position of Emperor Pro Tem with minimal fuss, and probably would have been quite happy to lay low for a while afterwards.... except that his dad then tries to kill him and he does the really dumb thing. I think almost everyone agrees that killing Narti was one of the dumbest things Lotor could have done. He could knock her out? Kill the cat?? Anything other than ruin his own party???

But nah. He stabs Narti and immediately the parallels between his group of Generals and Voltron shatter, because they betray him and try to turn him in to Haggar. Or, rather, he betrayed them.... .....actually maybe the parallels still apply, because I'm pretty sure that if Kuron had actually stabbed any of the Paladins at any point, the rest would have flipped out as well, so really the entire arc may be more of a statement on Galra culture as a whole.....

ANYWAY, the whole Narti thing might look like the place where everything starts to go south, but it actually doesn't ruin any of Lotor's potential. Killing Narti could either be the callous act of someone who's bad at communication and doesn't actually care about his team (which is his team's interpretation, and a fair one), or it could be taken as a really stupid moment of panic, which I’d argue is a little more interesting, since Lotor never panics. But either way, the outcome was the same: as soon as he had control taken away from him, he turned desperate and all his flaws started to come out. Narti's death was one of the dumbest things Lotor ever did, but I also want to argue that it's the one act that opened up his narrative potential the most, because it could have sparked some interesting discussion about whether all of his actions are due to being arrogant, maladjusted, and self-absorbed... or if any can be attributed to fear.

Unfortunately, while fanfiction capitalized on that potential immediately, the show never really did. I was hoping for a season of self-reflection as Lotor used his intelligence and manipulative skills to sway Voltron to his side and overthrow Zarkon and Haggar in retaliation for his one miscalculation of the series. I wouldn't even have been mad if he had betrayed Voltron again at the end, because it would have been in keeping with his suggested characterization so far, and I like competent opponents with actual realistic goals.

Season 5 looked like it was on track! Lotor was clearly still doing his best to manipulate Voltron as much as he could from a prison cell, furthering his goals despite his enormous setback. It's not really clear how many of his accomplishments during this season are due to careful planning and how many are due to luck; did he know Zarkon would offer the prisoner exchange? Did he know Sendak was going to be at the Kral Zera? Did he know Shiro was Kuron and would secretly hand over the Black Bayard so he actually had a fighting chance against Zarkon? ....Probably no to the last one, since it hinged on Honerva remembering her son, but who knows.

Regardless, Lotor takes a lot of risks and makes a lot of progress. He actually becomes Emperor. Dude, holy shit, congrats. Take a breather and regroup!! That big of an milestone should have been enough for anyone, but instead he pushed his luck searching for Oriande, becoming completely dependent on Allura for her guidance and her protection, and then he failed the White Lion's trial. Like, completely whiffed it. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200. The S6 finale makes it clear that Lotor's morals and goals are almost completely opposite Allura's, and that should have been the perfect place to start developing him further as.... you know, an actual emperor and moral counterpoint?

Instead, we got Season 6, where Lotor turned his fakeness meter up to 11 to seduce Allura. ...Badly. Like... really badly. ... Okay, listen the nanny thing was weird, there’s no denying that. She showed up for one episode out of completely nowhere and was never mentioned again. But Lotor felt more natural during that first episode of S6 than he did the entire rest of the season while romancing Allura, and I think that was probably on purpose. His voice and his face and his smile when he spoke with Allura were all the same ones he used during his first scene in the gladiator ring, when manipulating public opinion. I don’t think we were ever really meant to believe in Lotor’s feelings for Allura when his very character was introduced with the same sort of deception.

And all of that would still have been fine if he hadn’t had such a stupid final motivation. I suppose Season 6 makes sense when you consider that his ultimate goals actually had nothing to do with the Galra Empire, but it doesn’t feel like a good culmination of his character arc. So, knowing that his ultimate goal was the creation of a new Altean Empire, Let’s briefly review:

- Lotor spent three seasons manipulating the public to gather support and popularity. The conclusion of this was Kral Zera, where he actually became Emperor. But none of this matters. “Emperor of the Galra” is actually unrelated to “Emperor of the New Alteans”, or whatever. Unless his plan was to marry Allura and spend the next 10,000 years carefully integrating his Alteans into the Galran Empire while giving them every advantage possible, becoming the Galran Emperor didn’t actually have much to do with his Altean goals. His Alteans aren’t Galra citizens. So why spend that much time making himself popular with a race he hated? Narcissism???

- Lotor may have also spent three seasons subtly supporting rebellion across the Galran Empire, because he made a couple conspicuously bad decisions when it came to handling his political opponents/rebellion planets. Conspicuously bad enough to be deliberate, given what we know of him as a competent tactician. But supporting rebellion would only have helped him if he had planned to use rebellion to take over, and we just established that being the Galra Emperor doesn’t actually help his main goals. So does that make all the seasons of subtle rebel support.... a side-effect? Carelessness? Supporting the Voltron Coalition didn’t really matter if he intended to replace Voltron with his own shiny robot.

- Lotor’s generals are all half-galra. Originally, it seemed like he had chosen to align himself with societal outcasts because he could inspire loyalty and comraderie in them, and because after a lifetime of discrimination at the hands of Central Command, they’d probably be willing to support his rebellion. That’s, like, a huge fanfic canon. But instead, his final, power-driven speech suggests that he chose half-galra Generals simply because he couldn’t stand to work with full-blooded Galra. Which makes his close-knit team and all their beautiful parallels with Voltron... accidental??

- Lotor spent let’s say... a season and a half? trying to seduce Allura. This makes the most sense out of all of his goals, because marrying into the last remaining full-blooded Altean royalty totally fits with the New Altean Empire. What’s stupid here is how he handled it. Instead of coming clean about his Altean colony and, I don’t know, properly hiding his tracks as soon as he realized he could marry royalty?? He left the quintessence farm up and running. We know Lotor can get into and out of the rift way faster than Keith and Krolia, so there was really nothing stopping him from going to hide a couple skeletons in his closet sooner than never. He could probably have won Allura’s loyalty forever if he had presented her with an Altean colony and pretended to need her help restoring Altean culture; instead, he did dumb.

I’m just... I’m sad, okay? I’m not sad because he was evil; I’m sad because he didn’t want to be his father, and he absolutely turned into his father, and there were almost no signs of that until the very end. He could have been evil and still competent! While there are parts of Lotor that are really well written, it seems like they were all pushed to the side to make way for his obsession - an obsession he wasn’t even that obsessed about previously!!! - in the final couple episodes of Season 6, and he just... does so many stupid things.

So really, in conclusion, either Lotor got quintessence sickness, Haggar made a Lotor clone while he was visiting her that one time, or we should all be more sympathetic of Zarkon's stupidity in Seasons 1 and 2 because clearly Galra politics are infuriating enough that being Emperor for a couple pheobs was enough to make Lotor lose his McFreaking Mind. Zarkon had been Emperor for 10,000 years; it's understandable that he was a little quirky.

Also, I saw a post a few weeks ago that basically said “the worst thing that can happen to Lotor is that he comes back from the void and gets obsessed with Allura like in the original show”, and I wish I could find it again, so if you know that post, pls link me. And I agree, that would really really suck, I don’t want that. But I’m hopeful that the writers just decided to adapt his character a little, so that instead of being obsessed with the Altean Princess, he was instead obsessed with Altea, and therefore that arc is already over. But I guess we’ll find out soon! Fingers crossed.

Feel free to comment with alternate interpretations of everything here!

#voltron #voltron the legendary defender #lotor #vld lotor #long post #this is a very bad dissertation #the final message is I'm sad #that's it that's the point of this post #not lotor hate though #more like #I wish you were better #this is my first post in the voltron fandom #and possibly the last #I just #lotor y #six more days my dudes #six more days

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Riding High Ch 20: When The Bough Breaks...

Chapter Summary: Fliss finds herself in an impossible position…and her decision tips Frank’s world upside down.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: I know I only updated a few days ago with Ch 19 but this one has been written for a wile and I finished yesterday so decided not to wait.

Don’t hate me…

Chapter Song: Shattered by Trading Yesterday

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

And this day’s ending is the proof of time, killing all the faith I know.

“Was that another one?” Frank asked as Fliss tossed her phone onto the coffee table with an angry snort.

She nodded, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Frank sighed and looked at her “Honey…” “I know, I know…” she said, looking at him. “Look, I’ve made notes of every time I’ve had one so… its recorded. But again, it’s not like we can prove anything…they happen like twice a day and then nothing…hardly what they’ll call harassment.” Frank shifted slightly “This has been going on for 2 weeks now sweetheart.” “I’m well aware of that.” she snapped, before she shook her head “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get angry…not at you.” “Come here…” he said, opening his arms and she snuggled into him, leaning against his chest as his hand gently ran up and down her arm. “Maybe you should think about changing your number…and not putting the new one on the website.” “Yeah.” she conceded, “It’s not gonna help for work though…” “You can work round it.” he said, “Keep the business line and if you’re not there people will have to leave a message. Then, once you know your clients…you can give them your cell number.”

“Fucking ass hole is still making my life awkward.”

“Only if you let him.” Frank said gently “It’s a minor inconvenience to change your number but, if in the grand scheme of things all he has in his back pocket is sending you some dumbass birthday card and trying to piss you off with silent phone calls then…he’s just a pathetic fucking loser that’s trying to bully you into being scared.” “I’m not scared, just pissed off.” she shook her head “I know he’s a chicken shit, he wouldn’t dare come near me not when you’re on the scene…or my dad for that matter.” “Good, because if he did I’m not sure I’d be able to control myself.” Frank said softly.

“Maybe we should just pay someone to kill him.” Fliss said after a moment’s pause and Frank let out a snort “Bullet straight between the eyes.”

“Nah, too quick.” Frank sniffed, reaching for his beer “I’d dangle him over a tank of hungry sharks…lower him in inch by inch…”

“Or we could feed him to pigs, like in Hannibal.” Fliss mused.

“That’s also an option…no trace” he said, swallowing a mouthful of beer.

“You know they should teach this shit at schools” Fliss said, reaching for her own drink “How to get rid of bodies. I feel it is something everyone should be educated in.” “Maybe you should mention it to Bonnie.” he said as she took a sip of wine “Tell her you feel it is an educational rite of passage or some other inspiring shit like that…”

Fliss laughed, placing her wine glass down and shifting so that she was led on her front, half on-half off Frank, looking up at him as her chin rest on his chest.

“On a scale of 1 to 10 how much of a meltdown are we facing with Mary on tomorrow morning?”

“What would I do without you?” he grinned down at her.

“I have absolutely no idea.” she shrugged and he smiled and leaned down pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Did you speak to Evelyn before?” Fliss asked him and he nodded.

“She’s coming down this weekend.” Frank said, “She’s still on about Mary going to Boston for a weekend.” “You still not comfortable about her going?” Fliss asked.

Frank wrinkled his nose “I don’t know if I trust her fully yet.” “You’ll never know you can unless you give her a chance.” Fliss reasoned

“You think I should let her go?” Frank said, slightly surprised.

“That’s not my decision to make, Frank” Fliss shook her head.

“I’ll think about it.” he shrugged, non-committedly.

“Well, you should also ask Mary.” Fliss said “She might not even want to go.” “She will.” Frank said, “Evelyn has a piano.” Fliss laughed “Yeah, but she’s also bossy, remember?”

“Yeah, I had heard that.” Frank said, and Fliss chuckled again.

“Well, can you not think about it right now?” she said, taking the beer bottle out of his hand.

“What makes you think that?” she asked, sliding her hands up his chest, over the soft material of his top.

“Just a hunch…” he mumbled, as he reached up and gently gripped the back of her neck, pulling her head down to meet his.

****** “Hey Frank…”

Frank looked up and smiled at Alan as he walked into the work shop.

“Hey Alan, not seen you in a while, how you doing?” “Good…I’m good. I was just wondering if I could have a word in my office.”

“Sure.” Alan said, “No rush.”

“Relax, Frank…” Alan chuckled as Frank adjusted his jeans for what felt like the 30th time since sitting down.

“Can I take a bit of time to think it over?” he asked.

“Sure. Take a few days, let me know. I’d like to have whoever is taking over in a position to start the handover by the beginning of October if possible so…” “Thanks.” Frank nodded “I’ll give it some thought.” “Oh, and it also comes with a Ten thou a year raise…” Alan casually dropped in as Frank stood up “Plus a bonus each year of up to 20 percent, depending on how well you’ve done on your targets” “Just a minor detail you forgot to tell me.” Frank arched an eyebrow.

“Hey Sailor.” Fliss greeted him.

“Hey Cowgirl.” he smiled, leaning against the hood of his truck sipping a bottle of water “You got a sec.” “For you, always. What’s up?”

“Nothing, nothing bad anyway…I just got offered a promotion.”

“Wow!” she said as he finished talking “Baby, that’s fantastic. I’m so proud of you!”

Frank felt himself blushing at her praise, and despite the fact he couldn’t even see her he rubbed at his neck slightly. “So, you think I should take it?” “Of course I do.” she said eagerly “But at the same time, if you don’t want to then…you don’t have to. This is a great position to be in honey, Alan’s clearly seen your potential.”

“Just not sure If I’m cut out to be management.” he said, biting his lip.

Frank smiles at her words and looked up and out over the Marina “You always know exactly what to say.” “Not really, I make most of it up as a go along.” she said and Frank laughed. “But, just think, with the extra money you can get a new car…” “There’s nothing wrong with my truck.” “Frank, it’s died on you 4 times in the last 2 weeks. Dad reckons his ride on lawnmower has more power under the hood than that thing”

“Ok, I’ll admit…she’s getting a little clunky…but she is into her twenties now….” Fliss snorted “You could get yourself a nice Audi…”

“Fuck off.” Frank said and she laughed

“I like Simon’s car…” “You like it so much you get one.”

“Would never fit Thor in the back.” she said and Frank had to concede she had a point “But now you’re freelancing…you don’t actually need a truck do you?” “No, but…it’s handy…” “Handy, baby it only has 3 seats…” “And a flatbed…” Frank pouted slihglty. “So get one with 5 seats.” she shrugged. “You can buy trucks with a full cab…”

“This is not a good enough reason to get me to take the promotion…”

“This mean you’re coming round to the idea of marrying me and having baby Franks and Flisses?” he teased She snorted “You’re such a dick…although that’s the only time you’ve ever mentioned that when you’re sober.” “So you’re saying that if I ask you when I’m not drunk you’d say yes?” he teased. “Goodbye Frank…” She teased in an airy voice, before she cut the call.

Chuckling to himself he slid the phone back into his pocket and headed back inside to grab his lunch from the fridge in the kitchen. As he did so he passed Alan who was heading out with a fresh cup of coffee.

Frank nodded at him as he walked off.

“Oh…” Alan said, “We’ll also need to pick your car.”

“My car…” Frank frowned.

*****

Fliss had reacted exactly how he had thought she would, laughing hysterically and then teasing him about how he had no alternative now than to get rid of the heap of shit he was ridiculously attached to. She’d then spent the evening looking at cars on her phone, showing him ridiculously pimped out vehicles in various vile colours, the final straw being a hot-rod red Mustang with gold rims and flames painted down the side. At that point he’d snatched the phone out of her hand, grabbed her hips and pulled her down under him on the couch and given her something else to think about for half an hour or so.

Nope, on the whole life seemed to be going well for the pair of them.

“You got a ring yet?” Jake asked, dropping down into a seat next to him.

Greg looked at him, nodding “I get that.”

“That’s gotta be the most grown up think you’ve ever said…” Jake looked at Frank who flipped him off but deep down he had to admit, it wasn’t wrong. He knew that both he and Fliss had come a long way from the people they had been just over 14 months ago when they had first met. Fliss had come alive, flourished even in herself, and he…well, he’d learnt that there was more to life than a meaningless cycle of one night stands and that flying by the seat of his pants wasn’t always the most productive thing to do. Both of them had been broken in their own way, had their own guards and walls around themselves which the other had managed to smash straight through. He stole another glance at Fliss and smiled, he knew there was no other woman for him, but in the same breath…what was the rush? They had a life time. And a ring and a piece of paper wasn’t going to change any of that.

“Man you grew up…” Simon said, and Frank rolled his eyes.

“Look, I’ll have you know I’ve brought up a kid since the age of 6 months…all this shit about me being a man child…It’s crap…”

“Whatever man…we all know you’re not a grown up until you have scatter cushions on your sofa…” Simon teased, referencing the previous week when he and Bonnie had come over for drinks and Fliss and Frank had had a jokey argument about the cushions on the sofa. Frank threw his head back in a huge bout of laugher, shaking his head.

“Fuck you!” he said, looking at him as Simon grinned.

“Anyway, man…speaking of weddings…” Greg turned to Jake “You’ve been engaged for what? like 3 years now…when you gonna set a date?”

“He has a point…” Simon looked at him.

“Well, you can all shut the fuck up because for your information we have.”

“Shut the front door!” Greg grinned

Jake nodded and took a large mouthful of his beer.

“So you gonna tell any of us or…” Jake glanced over at Lisa before he yelled her name and she looked over at him, the other women also looking up.

Fliss perched on Frank’s knee and he slid one hand round her waist the other dropped to her thigh.

“So, we have set a date for the wedding.” Lisa smiled to a huge shriek from Zara. Frank spotted Fliss looking at Bonnie, the two of them sharing a significant smirk and he squeezed her thigh.

“Stop being a bitch.” he said in a low voice.

“Rude…” she mumbled, grinning into her gin.

“6th April next year…” Jake grinned. “At Hardemans Secret Garden in Dover, Tampa.” “Well unless you invented a time machine, it ain’t gonna be this year is it?” Simon looked at him, before he gave a yell as Bonnie slapped him round the back of the head.

“Obviously you’re all invited.” Jake said, “Except for Simon.” “Hang on, if he isn’t coming does that mean I can’t?” Bonnie pouted.

“You can be my plus one.” Fliss nodded.

“Oi…” Frank said, nipping her thigh gently. She grinned at him, ruffling his hair slightly. He jerked his head out of her reach and looked at her over his aviators. She stuck her tongue out at him and he grinned.

“Guys this is great news…” Greg said, nodding “Best dig the suit out.” “You wear a suit to work every day.” Zara looked at him.

“Yeah, I’m in…” Greg smiled,

“Me too pal, I’m honoured.” Frank smiled, tipping his beer bottle in Jake’s direction.

“Does this mean we get to plan the Batchelor party?” Simon asked. Jake nodded with a grin and Simon leaned back “Oh this is gonna be beautiful….”

“Yeah you said that about me going to Boston…” “No, that’s not what I said.” Frank sighed, looking at her “I said over my dead body were you going to live with Evelyn….and did you?” “No…” Mary conceded “But you’re letting me go back for a weekend.”

“Yes, because you’re going for 2 nights and coming home” he said, and despite himself he turned his head to see Fliss sail Cap over the huge jump.

“See….” Fliss said, pulling the horse up to a stop “Easy…” “Whatever you say sweetheart.” he shook his head.

“Can I jump Monty soon?” Mary asked, and Fliss smiled.

“Yeah we can do a little cross pole…” “I give in…” Frank groaned, throwing his hands out to the side “The pair of you are nuts…”

“Says the guy who almost cried when he had to order a new car.” Fliss looked at him and Frank rolled his eyes “I mean who does that?” “Yeah Frank…” Mary said, swinging off the fence to the paddock, leaning back to look at him. “You get to swap a rust bucket for a shiny new Mitsubishi truck and you were like heartbroken.” “Hey, me and that truck have seen a lot of action-“

“I don’t wanna know…” Fliss started.

“Of which you’ve been part of…” he smirked her and she flushed a little, grinning. “I’m kinda attached to it.” “It’s a lump of metal.” Fliss looked at him.

“How dare you.” Frank scoffed, feigning offence.

“I can go with that.” Frank nodded as she turned and walked towards the gate, letting her out.

“Can I take him?” Mary asked, hopping down off the fence.

“Sure…” Fliss said, handing her the reins. Mary led the horse away to the barn as Fliss removed her hat and pulled out her bobble, shaking her long hair free before she tied it back up again.

“I really do like it that colour.” Frank mused after a second, watching her. She blushed a little, and he knew why. A week ago she’d come back from the salon, her usually bright auburn hair was a lot more demure, having had caramel and dark brown put through it. When Frank had complimented her on the change she’d gotten a little shy and said that she used to have it like that when she was younger, but upon splitting with John had decided she wanted a completely different look. Now she felt like she wanted to go back to who she was, not needing to put that distance between her and her past anymore. Her admission had once again, knocked him for 6, how simple little things like that were so huge for her. He was also beyond happy she felt like that too.

“Can we go to the shack for dinner?” Mary spoke up, looking at Frank “It is Saturday…”

“Oh, I dunno…” Frank sighed, “Not sure my heap of shit truck will get us there.” “No but Fliss’ jeep will.” Mary shrugged and Frank shook his head with a snort.

“You literally have an answer for everything.”

“Wonder where she gets that from…” Fliss looked at him and he nudged her gently with his elbow.

“So can we go or not?”

“Deal.” she nodded “Only Fliss said she was gonna help me sort my clothes out…some of them don’t fit anymore.”

“Yeah we do that tomorrow morning.” Fliss smiled, “Then we can look at ordering you some warm stuff for New York.” “oooh yeah, are we still getting matching sweaters when we get there?” “No.” Frank said, at the same time Fliss nodded.

“Yes.” “No, we’re not.” Frank looked at her.

“I hate you both.” he said sullenly, folding his arms.

“Not sure getting her any stuff for New York yet is wise.” he mused “If she carries on like she is it won’t fit her.”

“I know what you mean.” he said, his hands carding through her hair “You don’t really Seasons here.”

“Well you do…” Fliss said, “Hurricane and Summer.” Frank let out a laugh as she looked up at him. “You know you’re my hurricane.”

“What?” he looked at her

“Came into my life, blew it all upside down…” “Jesus you talk some shit!” he laughed, shaking his head as she grinned.

“You know there was actually a hurricane Frank back in 2010.” she said “So I’m not talking complete shit…” “Whatever Sweetheart…” he snorted, leaning back as her nails scratched against his skin. He gave a twitch and grabbed her wrist, and looked down at her as she flashed him a coy look. “Stop it.”

“What, this?” she moved and used her other hand, and Frank let out a hiss as he shifted and grabbed that one too.

“You know what that does to me…” he looked at her, his voice low.

“Yup.” she nodded, grinning.

With a jerk of his arms he pulled her forward so she fell onto him fully, drawing a giggle from her as her nose bumped against his.

“I fuckin’ love you.” he smiled at her, and she grinned, giving him a soft kiss.

“Yeah, you’ve told me once or twice…” she smirked, her lips locking onto his.

******

“Fliss?”

“Office…” she called back, and a second or so later Joanne popped her head into the room.

“Everything’s done.” she said, “I was gonna lock up…you’re not normally here this late.”

“Sadly, it needs doing…besides, last time we went I kicked his ass, again, he sulked for hours.” Fliss snorted “Maybe he stands more of a chance against Mary.”

“Won’t he let her win?” Joanne asked “I mean, she is only 8…”

“Have you met Frank?” Fliss looked at Jo. “He says that she needs reminding every now and then that she’s not a genius at everything…” Joanne let out a laugh “Fair enough. Ok, well I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, by Jo…”

It was a threat. A direct threat telling her he knew about Mary.

He ended up in jail himself because Fliss knew Frank well enough to understand that if that blind rage took hold, he wouldn’t stop.

******

“Hey, you’re late…” Frank looked up, immediately frowning as he saw Fliss’ face. “Honey…what…” “Where’s Mary?” she asked instantly.

“She nipped to Roberta’s” Frank said “I know it’s late but we saw her as we were headed out of the car and she wanted to collect something for Show and Tell tomorrow…why?”

“We need to talk.” Fliss said.

Frank stood up off the sofa and walked towards her, he reached for her and she took a step back.

“Ok, Fliss, you’re scaring me now…what…”

“I think…” Fliss looked down at her hands “I think that we need to stop seeing each other.” Frank blinked, not sure he had heard her right, but when he looked at her he saw a tear trickling down her face and she was avoiding his gaze. The world around him began to fade and a dull buzzing filled his head and rang around his ears as a horrible cold feeling washed over him.

“Lissy…” he swallowed, his words sticking in his throat “What’s brought this on? Did I do something? Are you not happy? I don’t understand…” “I just…it isn’t working for me…” she said, taking a deep breath and looking up at him. “You’re lying.” he said instantly, he could see it written all over her face “Fliss, what’s going on?” “Nothing, I’m sorry. I just…I need to leave, I need space.” she said “I’m so sorry Frank…” Frank took a deep breath, and watched as she turned to leave. After a second he hurried after her into the hallway, shaking his head.

“Please, Frank…don’t make this any harder than it is…” her voice was broken, and she shook her head. “I don’t understand what THIS is?” he looked at her, running a hand through his hair as he felt the stinging of tears in his own eyes “Last month we were talking about buying a house together and now you just wanna break it off, for no reason? Baby, just…whatever is going on, we can work through it, just talk to me.”

“I’m so sorry…” she whispered, “Just…let me out…please…”

“Liss, please…” he said, his voice cracking. “Don’t do this…”

She took a deep breath and opened the door, the warm air from outside hit him in the face before the click of the latch hit his ears as the door shut behind her, leaving him stood alone in the hallway, stunned and utterly, utterly broken.

#riding high #frank adler x ofc #frank adler #gifted #gifted fan fic

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chronicbatfictioner · 6 years

Text

Theater of the Soul - Chapter 11

He woke up to a number of new voices. Calm, soft, educated voices. Usually more prevalent with the presence of mean people.

He couldn't make out what they were saying. But there was a more important concern to be had.

From the smell of it, there were food. Fresh, hot food. A table in the middle of the room bearing a lot of food was present. But he didn't know if he would be chased away, or punched, if he were to reach for one. He knew he couldn't simply pilfer the food, either - there was no movement around the room that should have been enough to cover for his stealing some pieces of those very interesting bread. Some of the breads, however, he would not touch. They were special. They would be missed.

The boy and little girl who were his present companions were there, and they looked fine. A lady took the little girl somewhere else, but she did not look scared, so she has got to be a safe person, somewhat. She - the older lady - had looked at him and looked like she was going to cry, but then collected herself and did not cry. There was a big, big man who looked at him oddly. Neither spoke toward him. Or maybe they did, but he just didn't care enough.

Somebody placed him on the table, in front of the breads. He was given the special bread and wondered if they were joking or simply trying to see if he would take the bait. He waited. Oh, he could wait, alright. He has learned to wait out those nasty people a long, long time ago. Bide his time real good until they looked away.

But he didn't have to wait long. A hand took the special bread away, and replaced it with a plain toast. Buttered, warm... just like the way he liked it. He nearly moaned with longing as he looked up to the owner of the hand. Oh, it's that blue-eyed person. The person said something and somehow, assured him that it was his. That he may have it. He blinked. The person was nice. That person has been nice to him since... a while? Whatever. He decided that he would trust that person.

The first bite of the warm buttered toast felt heavenly.

Tim could tell that Bruce and Dr Leslie Thompkins, Bruce's personal physician from god knows how long (probably since his childhood) was there from Danny's stiff posture at the breakfast table - even if Tim could yet to see the table from his bedroom. He found himself smiling - Bruce tend to evoke such reaction with his enigmatic presence, alright. Especially if/when he decided to bring the 'Brucie' persona full on, i.e. one that had faced a renowned Russian President with enough scowl-factor that made said president fluster in shame.

His yawn stopped halfway when he finally rounded the corner and saw Jason also sitting on the table, albeit still glaring blankly at the toast and plethora of food before him.

"Oh good morning, Tim!" Barbara called cheerfully - and Tim knew Barbara well enough to know that she was being sarcastic. His eyes landed on the clock and he realized why. It was 10 a.m. already.

"Mornin' everybody." he replied rather grumpily as he made his way to the coffeepot because. Well, 10 a.m. or not, Tim was not a morning person. Plus, he'd spent the rest of the night worrying that Jason would ran out on them the minute Bruce got in - some time after 4 a.m. (he'd seen the clock and heard Bruce when he came in with Dr Thompkins, and Barbara opened the door for them). He - as well as Danny, Ellie, and Barbara, had gone to bed - Danny with Jason in the living room, Ellie sharing Barbara's room, and Tim got his own - a little after 1 a.m.

Danny and Ellie, if anything, were excited enough to stay up that late. Mostly due to the presence of food. But also because Helena was somehow able to call the County Jail where their mother was held and did some haughty commanding to get the wardens to actually collect her and allowed her to take the call, "regardless of the time, Warden. These children have not heard from their mother for nearly six months! You are not that cruel, I presume?"

Helena could be very convincing when she wanted to, obviously.

"Tim," Bruce's baritone made the wine glasses above the kitchen counter tinkled. "You did very well."

Tim reeled, partly from the lack of caffeine in his system, partly from shock.

"Thanks..." he mumbled.

"You know that thing can stunt your growth, right?" Danny quipped, eyeing the coffee in Tim's hands.

"Where's Ellie?" Tim wanted to know.

"Dr Thompkins is giving her a checkup there," Danny pointed at the living room. "Worms and stuff. Just in case, y'know. She's little."

"You?"

"I'm done. No worms, lice, or anything that'll make Mr Wayne here have to disinfect the pool." Danny grinned at Tim. "You didn't tell me your dad is Bruce Wayne."

Tim gave him a lopsided smile. "My father was Jack Drake." he said. A flicker of recognition flashed in Danny's eyes. "But yes, my dad is Bruce Wayne."

"Boy, you're like, connected. Like, Sean Astin level of connected! You should've been a star or something!" Danny gushed.

Tim huffed. 'Star'. Right. "Heh. Right. Anyway, has Dr T checked Jason yet?"

"Not yet," a kindly voice replied from the living room. "Dinah Lance gave me quite an appraisal in Jason's condition, and seeing that thus far, only Daniel and Ellie who have managed to move Jason from couch to here, I figured I should wait until I'm done with Ellie." Dr Thompkins replied. "Daniel here has also mentioned that you were able to settle him down a little yesterday. So, would you like to explain to me how?"

Tim flustered a little. "Yeeeah I don't know. I mean, I just..." his eyes landed on Jason, still glaring at the food on the plate in front of him. "Has anybody tried to make him eat, yet?"

"He didn't want toast." Danny said.

"Uh, yeah. He hated them with marmalade. You should know that, Bruce." Tim scowled, pointing at the marmalade-covered toast on Jason's plate.

"Hey, I've only tried it today, and it's pretty awesome!" Danny announced. "Ellie had two."

"Jason never liked them. He'd always switched with my plain buttered one." Tim smiled ruefully. "Bruce loved marmalade. I'm okay with it, but not too much of a fan. Dick - our older brother, could eat the whole jar in one go."

"Ah," Bruce almost smirked. "That's why I never noticed."

"Yeah," Tim agreed, starting to put just butter on a pair of warm toast Barbara handed him. "Thanks, Babs." he added, belatedly.

"I thought you've only lived with Bruce for a short time, Timothy?" Dr Thompkins asked.

"I did, but Jason and I talked, before..." Tim paused and bit his lip before continuing, "before he thought I was... gonna replace him." He ignored Barbara's and Bruce's gasps and took Jason's marmalade-covered toast and placed his own in front of Jason. Jason looked up to him and then back to the toast. Tim smiled at him and nodded encouragingly. "They're yours, eat up."

Jason gave a flicker of... something in his eyes, before picking up the toasts and practically devoured them.

"Wow," Danny said. "He woulda practically just go without if it's something he doesn't like... Like... he didn't like Thai much, did he?" Tim nodded - Jason had only eaten the rice of the Thai menu they had last night.

Bruce nodded solemnly. "That, I know. He'd had a bad experience with Thai food gone bad in the past." he explained. "Leslie?"

Dr Thompkins was watching as Tim handed a glass of milk toward Jason, who chugged it down as if it was water. And then as Jason looked up at Tim expectantly. Tim pouted at being put on the spot, but he put another two slices of bread into the toaster. "Wait," he told Jason, and then took a big bite out of his own toast. Jason kept glaring expectantly until the toaster popped its loots and Tim retrieved the bread, buttered them, and placed them on Jason's plate. "Next time, you do it yourself." Tim glared at Jason, who's started chewing contentedly the instant the breads hit his plate - and ignoring Tim. Also ignoring Danny's snickers.

Tim then shifted his glare to Bruce, Barbara, and Dr Thompkins. "Ideas, adult-peoples?"

Dr Thompkins shrugged, "I think he likes you." she said. Tim did not roll his eyes. Or faceplanted to the table.

"I can't disagree." Danny said in all seriousness.

This time, Tim groaned. "Really." he deadpanned. Not amused. "I hope there is a point in that observation, somewhere."

"There is. Daniel told me of the photo of Robin, and I surmised that it anchored him, somehow. Why don't you present him with that photo, after breakfast, and see if it could jolt something in him." Dr Thompkins replied with a smile. "A traumatic catatonia is not something to be taken lightly, Timothy, a wrong move could make the patient regress even further. He is still responsive, a little, by those he deemed to be safe people - Daniel, Ellie, you. To an extent, Barbara, Bruce and me, likely by our association with you."

"I disagree at Barbara's place in that sentence. But..." Tim shrugged. "...you're the doc."

"Yes, so are you done?" she asked, not hinting, really, as Tim poured a little more milk for Jason. Just half a glass, kind of automatically because he'd noticed in the past that Jason would only drink about half of his second glass of milk back then.

"So am I the only one anxious over this?" Danny asked, watching as Jason cleaned the milk out.

"No, Daniel, I can assure you I am, too." Bruce told him. Tim fully looked at him as they all started to leave the table and head back to the living room. A small tug by Danny made Jason got up, too, and followed. "Could he be jolted back to his memories, Leslie?"

"It happened in some cases. At this point, I can merely hazard a hypotheses that Jason's trauma came from the fall, since we had nothing to back up the diagnoses - if he'd hit his head, or if he'd had a concussion, or other traumas other than the fall. Furthermore, from his gait, I would diagnose that his broken leg had not healed properly." Dr Thompkins explained. "You have arranged for a scan, I hope?"

"I have arranged for a scanner, actually. It should be delivered here by this hour." Bruce replied, a little too innocently for Tim to not wonder how he'd made that happen. Danny, however, was less inhibited in his questions.

"What do you mean?" he asked as he set (pushed) Jason down onto the couch. "I thought that computer thingy has a scanner?"

"Oh, he meant a CAT scanner, Daniel." Barbara said. "It should come in a truck."

Daniel blinked slowly, and then blinked again.

"Uh, yeah... it's not like he bought it, don't worry." Tim tried. Daniel just blinked owlishly. "Uh oh." Tim cringed. Jason had always snarked at him being a 'rich boy' and 'insensitive', and now he was inadvertently proving Jason's words.

"Bruce and I have a lot of work involving hospitals and clinics in Gotham City, so he knows the numbers of a lot of medical suppliers." Dr Thompkins explained. "I asked for one to be delivered here today, so we won't have to transport Jason to a hospital. I'm not sure if it would be good for him to be transported around too much."

Her explanation seemed more... succinct. Or maybe it was because she was a doctor, but Danny seemed satisfied.

"That's really cool! Can you scan me, too? And Ellie?"

Dr Thompkins regarded him contemplatively. "Have you any complaints? Either way, it will be good to have a scan of you on record while you're young." she said.

"Plus, if Jason could see them being scanned and come out the other side unharmed, he might be less..." Barbara paused and looked at Jason, "hesitant?"

"I know you're going to say 'combative', but yes. You can get scanned first if you'd like, Daniel." Dr Thompkins said.

"Awesome!" Danny gushed, and then patted Jason's shoulder confidently. "See, Red? Everything will be cool!"

#Jason Todd #Tim Drake #JayTim #no-capeAU #SoulTheater!AU #Barbara Gordon #Bruce Wayne #Leslie Thompkins #Bruce being a rich dude #back to our regular schedule

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bgn846 · 4 years

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The Niflheim Experiment Chapter 4

The sound of a door slamming shut snapped Gladio awake. Struggling to open his eyes revealed a dimly lit room. Had they stopped at a hotel after all? Aranea mentioned them driving straight through to Lucis but he wasn’t in the car anymore. Sighing heavily, Gladio gathered what strength he had and attempted to roll on his side.

Something rough and solid held him back. A terrifying, and memorable sensation of biting metal on his skin caused him to panic. The chain around his neck was back as well as the ones around his ankles and wrists. Unable to process anything past the fear and anger currently gripping his mind, Gladio yelled out at the top of lungs.

Maybe someone would hear him screaming and come help. That idea was crazy though, this stranger would have to fight off three trained warriors to get to him. Luna had to be around, Ravus wouldn’t abandon his sister. Calling out for her instead, Gladio hoped that maybe she would be able to set him free. He couldn’t handle this again, he just couldn’t!

“Gladio! Can you hear me?!”

Flinching at the sudden loud voice, much too close to his ear, Gladio sucked in a breath to yell once more. Words were failing him at the moment, he simply kept yelling.

“Gladio! It’s Luna, please calm down.” The voice tried again.

Warmth blossomed around his neck, replacing the feeling of the rough metal collar that had been there.

“You’re safe! You’re safe, believe me.” Luna cooed in his ear over and over again.

Gladio’s brain finally clicked into the present, and he could do nothing to prevent the eos shaking sob he let loose. Astrals he’d been dreaming! Forcing his nearly numb arms to move he reached out and hugged the closest body.

“You were dreaming, open your eyes, you’re safe,” proclaimed Luna.

He was still crying too hard to follow that simple request so he nodded instead. Time rolled in and around him, like waves in a storm, as he tried to process reality from dream. The second he could breathe normally he blurted out an apology. “So –rry, I’m sorry, I don’t – don’t.” Gasping in more air he tried again to convey his feelings.

“Shhh, relax. You had a bad dream. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Lifting his head up Gladio was even more embarrassed. They were all looking at him. He’d been correct in remembering what Aranea had said. The backseat of the car was there in all of its cramped glory, complete with Loqi staring dumbly. The kid looked a little terrified actually. Glancing around the cabin revealed the same look for the other occupants.

Ravus looked pale, which was a hard thing to accomplish since his complexion was already fair. “May I ask what triggered this outburst of fear?”

Licking his lips to gain time Gladio opened his mouth to speak. “I – I thought you all had chained me up again.”

No one said anything after that. Ravus frowned and returned to looking out the front windshield as he put the car in gear and drove back out onto the road. Apparently his fit had forced them to pull off to the side. Groaning softly, Gladio lowered his head in shame, promptly smacking Luna in the forehead. This shouldn’t have been surprising; she was practically sitting in his lap. Instantly worried he’d hurt her Gladio reached out to touch her head. Another apology was ready to tumble out of his lips while he waited for her to stop hissing in pain.

A little laugh caught him completely off guard as she rubbed the spot tenderly. “Ow, Gladio watch it. You’ve got a big head.”

“Its normal sized.” He quipped back without hesitation.

“Well maybe, but it’s dense.”

Furrowing his brow at the comment Gladio didn’t exactly know how to respond. Luna had insulted him but he couldn’t tell if she realized it yet.

“Luna?” Aranea requested softly. “Uh – why are you calling Gladio stupid?”

“Oh heavens, no that’s not wha --.” The oracle paused for a moment mid-sentence, and appeared to be thinking through several things internally. ‘Oh! Gladio I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant by that!” Luna squealed in distress at the very notion she’d said something mean, and hugged him tightly.

Accepting the hug Gladio decided hiding his face in Luna’s shoulder would be a good choice of action for the remainder of the trip. “Can I stay like this until we get there?” He mumbled.

“Awww it’s alright,” Luna enthused. “Don’t be like my brother and suffer without saying anything.”

A small irritated huff from the front seat graced his ears. Ravus wasn’t happy about being called out. Though Gladio wasn’t entirely sure what Luna meant by suffering that could mean any number of things. Ravus had clearly endured his fair share of trauma along with Luna. Strictly based on observation the oracle handled her emotions differently than Ravus. She was willing to communicate with Noct, despite his association with that unfortunate day in history.

Gladio had talked with his dad about what had happened. The Empire had attacked and forced a hasty retreat for Noct and the king. Luna had decided to stay behind with Ravus. Based off what Noct would tell him, Luna didn’t harbor any ill feelings towards Lucis for the way the fight played out. However, Ravus had remained bitter and felt abandoned by the people he’d trusted. This small detail traipsed unhappily around the fringes of Gladio’s mind. Could he really trust Ravus?

The car jostled roughly, the main road veering away when Gladio looked out the window. What was happening?

“Hey?! What are you doing?” Aranea exclaimed.

Ravus didn’t answer; he merely kept driving until a decrepit building appeared on the horizon. Without warning the car screeched to a halt and Ravus ripped the door open. He was gone and storming off towards the building.

“Hey!!” Aranea screamed after him as she made chase. “What the hell are you doing?”

Luna was in the process of disentangling herself from Gladio, and nearly fell out onto the ground when she opened the door. Gladio barely had enough strength to keep her from face planting. Catching her balance after a second, Luna was running towards her brother.

“We might be here for a while. Do you need to stretch?” Loqi asked with a frown.

Not fully recovered from his earlier episode Gladio didn’t know how to respond. He did want to get out of the car, but that also meant he would be more likely to hear the ensuing argument. “I’m okay with leaning up against the car.”

“Need help?” Loqi checked even though his attention was locked on Ravus shouting at Aranea and Luna.

“Only if I fall.” Loqi grunted and nodded, but didn’t turn to watch as Gladio attempted the action. He did fall, but luckily Gladio was able to catch himself on the roof of the car. His arms were getting stronger, that was good, but his legs were still jelly. Locking his knees after a few seconds He felt comfortable enough to lean away and take a deep breath. His view over the car was directly in line with Ravus arguing. Not exactly the most calming of scenes, Gladio tried to cast his vision elsewhere. It helped a little, but the noise of raised voices still carried over. Gladio found that he was straining to hear the conversation, even though he was trying to ignore it. Something about human nature compelled him to be a part of this dramatic episode. Only certain words reached his ears: ‘done’, ‘pretending’, ‘hate’.

That was worrisome, was Ravus attempting to convince them they needed to stop the journey? Gladio had no idea where they were and no way to reach his family and friends if they all decided to ditch him. Someone shouting his name forced him to look over once more. Aranea was stomping her way over and looked pissed.

“You need to talk to him!” She huffed.

“What? Why me?”

“You’re a man, he won’t listen to us.”

“Why not send Loqi?” Gladio tried, not entirely comfortable with the idea of having a heart to heart with Ravus.

“No!” Loqi shouted out from the backseat before Aranea could respond. “I’m not going anywhere near him right now, he’s acting like a dick.”

“That’s why!” Aranea replied as she came to a stop next to him, hands on her hips, looking determined.

She didn’t give him a choice in the matter, and reached out to pull him away from the car. The stable chunk of metal that held him up, and kept the ruthless grip of gravity at bay was out of arms reach a second later. “Careful! I’m still not well enough to walk yet.”

“Pffttt, I won’t let you fall. I’m a strong girl.”

True to her word Aranea kept him upright and managed to drag him over to the building. According to her Ravus was hiding inside somewhere. Luna was guarding the door with a scowl that would have made a grown man wither.

“I don’t think he snuck out, but if he did then I hope one of you knows how to jump start a car.” The oracle fumed.

“I can.” Gladio offered quickly.

“Good to know they train you well in Lucis,” quipped Aranea. “Have at it big guy,” she added once they reached the door.

Unable to prevent what happened next, Aranea kicked the front door open and scooted out from under his arm. Gladio was left clutching an errant empty cargo box to keep from toppling over. She had rushed back out and slammed the door before he could utter a single syllable in protest. That very moment his brain decided to accost him with the worst possible idea. They were leaving him here. Ravus had already snuck out and was back at the car.

Too scared to try the door he simply sunk down on the floor and decided to drown in his sorrows instead. It would probably make it easier on Luna if he didn’t shout and yell like a baby. Swallowing hard he worked to control his breathing, he had to stay calm so he could come up with a plan. Maybe there was some food in this place, that way he could rest and try and recover more strength before he set out to find a telephone.

Ravus’ voice startled him out his thoughts before he could dwell on his situation further. “Did they think I needed company?”

“You’re still here?!” Gladio gasped.

“Of course, where else would I have gone the movies?”

Gladio was shocked; they hadn’t abandoned him, yet. “Uh – I thought you all had left me or something.”

“Is that was Aranea said?” Ravus replied with confusion as he stepped out from the shadows.

“No, I – well – I assumed you’d set up a diversion so they could get me out of the car.” Gladio added sheepishly. This theory of his was sounding more and more ridiculous.

“Why on eos would we do that, we’re trying to take you home, not leave you half way.”

Humming in response Gladio simply shrugged and hung his head. He hated not feeling strong. This entire experience had been one embarrassing moment after another. What would his father think of his actions? Groaning Gladio balled his fists up and worked mightily not to scream out loud.

“Aranea has wasted your energy bringing you in here.” Ravus admitted, “I wish she’d been more thoughtful.”

“She didn’t tell me what to say, only that you wouldn’t listen to them.”

Ravus shook his head and trudged over; unceremoniously sliding down on the floor next to Gladio he stretched his legs out. “I’m not going to Lucis, I’m leaving on my own after the next outpost.”

The information was wholly unexpected and caused Gladio to rip his head up and stare at Ravus. “You’re doing what? WHY?” He breathed out in utter shock.

“Come now, you know the history of my family. Luna’s been throwing jabs at me ever since we left regarding my emotional state. Think, why would I not want to go?” He enthused with wide eyes.

Gladio knew the answer already; he’d heard his dad lament the loss of such a good soul to the empire. Ravus shouldn’t have been forced to work for the people that murdered his mother that was cruel. The empire it seemed knew no bounds when it came to unethical practices. “You hate us,” Gladio spit out dryly, “and by us I mean the king.”

“We needed help and your king left us to rot.”

“What would you have had him do?” Gladio asked perplexed. He’d been told of an awful battle that made even a retreat nearly impossible. “Stay and be captured by the empire?”

“NO! Of course not, but he didn’t even send reinforcements. Once he left, the battle was over to him. You all retreated behind the wall and never gave us a second thought.”

“What if we couldn’t send help because we didn’t have it to send?” Gladio defended.

“What would you know about it? How old are you?” Ravus demanded.

“Twenty-two.”

“Oh -- so a hearty eleven year old knew more about this unfortunate series of events than me? I doubt that.”

“My dad was there too! We talk about things.”

“Must be nice to have family around to commiserate with,” Ravus hissed with curled lips.

“I know about losing parents too, my mom died when I was young!” Gladio shot back.

Grunting Ravus turned away and took a breath. “It’s not the same,” he finally offered.

Gathering his thoughts Gladio was racking his brain for what to say. “No, it’s not, but I didn’t have anyone to blame for my mom’s death. I had no one to get angry with, I had to deal with my grief and heal.”

“That’s a low blow,” Ravus growled.

“Low or not, it’s the truth.”

A suffocating silence fell over them both after that. Gladio wasn’t sure what Ravus was hoping to gain. Based off his comments it didn’t seem like he was after closure. His anger towards Lucis had fueled him for too long and it had changed him.

“So I guess that means you’ll just continue to hate us all huh?” Gladio sighed. “I don’t know what I can say to help, this is your battle to wage, not mine.”

Ravus slowly turned to face him with narrowed eyes. “You don’t think I’m crazy for acting like this?”

Shaking his head no Gladio stayed silent. What could he do? Ravus was angry and Gladio wasn’t sure what would make him bestow forgiveness upon those he hated.

“How would you act if our roles were reversed?” Ravus asked suddenly.

That was a hard question. Gladio wanted to blurt out that he would have moved on, but he suspected that it wouldn’t be the truth. “I dunno, based off how I’m handling this current situation I might have suffered a mental breakdown and gone insane.”

Ravus snorted and shook his head. “You’re doing well, if it’s any consolation. Only one nightmare and you haven’t gotten violent.”

“It helps that I don’t remember much,” Gladio admitted. “They had me drugged most of the time.”

“Ah – to be numb to the sensations of life, if only I’d had that choice. Don’t get me wrong I didn’t want you to suffer; I don’t like the idea of torture. I’m thankful you are getting better.” Ravus added quickly. “My situation was very different. I had to do what I could to ensure my sister’s safety.”

That revelation hit Gladio like a punch to the gut. Poor Ravus had to endure all this while trying to take care of his sister. “I wouldn’t have gone insane!” Gladio corrected in a rush, “I’d have done the same thing as you! I’d have to take care of my sister; I didn’t consider that part when you asked me earlier.”

Again silence fell around them. Gladio closed his eyes to focus better, he had to try and think of something else to say. He owed it to Luna to try harder. She deserved to have her brother by her side. “Is there anything that would make you reconsider coming along?” He questioned in desperation.

“No.”

“What if Luna gets married to Noct, will you shun her too after that?”

Ravus opened his mouth to answer but paused. Clearly that question had caught him off guard. “That’s another low blow Gladio.”

“It’s a possibility, so you have to consider it.”

“I wouldn’t shun my sister, but it would make it that much harder, given how I feel about Noct and the king.”

“Noct was eight, he didn’t do anything, don’t drag him into this mess.” Gladio announced with conviction.

“He is his father’s son.” Ravus threw back.

“Oh no you don’t!” Gladio yelled. “You do realize what that means right?” Pausing to stare at the older man Gladio waited for Ravus to reply. He didn’t. “Your mother would be pissed at you for even thinking like that!”

“What are you getting on about?”

“If you blame Noct for his father’s actions then conversely, that means you are subject to the same thing!”

“No, it’s not the same!”

“Bullshit it’s so the same thing, you can’t say something like that and not fall under the same rule.”

“You will not drag my mother’s name into the mud.” Ravus howled. “She wanted peace!”

“I’m not the one who sided with her true killers.” Gladio didn’t have time to brace himself when Ravus lunged at him. Shielding his face Gladio prepared for an onslaught of punches and kicks. They never came. Ravus was simply holding his shirt collar and had his right arm cocked back to deliver a blow.

“I had to do what I did to protect my sister.” He defended.

“I understand that Ravus!” Gladio sputtered. “You did what was right at the time, but now you have a choice how you help her moving forward.”

“I can’t forgive at the drop of a hat.”

“No one is asking you to! Take your time; just don’t abandon your sister while you sulk about it!”

Ravus released his grip on his shirt but not before shoving him away roughly. Yelping at his inability to stay upright Gladio toppled sideways to the floor. Hands were on him a second later pulling him up.

“Sorry that was uncalled for; you’re merely trying to act as a therapist when you have no fucking degree in such a thing.”

“Blame Aranea she threw me in here to talk to you!”

“I have not shamed my mother, she would be proud of how I watched over Luna.”

Swallowing hard Gladio debating about how to respond. “Does that mean you’ll make sure she makes it safely to Lucis?”

Ravus nodded curtly and exhaled a deep breath.

“Um – If you’re interested in a real therapist I’m sure Ignis is gonna make me see one when we get back. I could always put in a good word for you.”

“Despite my earlier outburst, you didn’t do so bad as a stand in one. Though I would ask one favor.” Ravus paused as he waited for Gladio’s full attention. “I will not talk to my sister about certain things, it’s part of my coping mechanism. Help her understand, she’s always trying to get me to open up and I can’t, not with her.”

“Does it hit to close to home?” Gladio asked.

“I’m afraid it does, she’s so much like mother and she doesn’t even realize it. Six, it’s painful at times.” He sighed.

“So you’re still coming right?” Gladio checked.

“Yes, I suppose I owe it to Luna to see this through.”

A thought struck Gladio and he couldn’t help but ask. “Where you planning on escaping with me, and then leaving before arriving in Lucis to go back for your sister?”

“You turning sooner than we’d anticipated changed our plans.”

“I don’t think anyone else but your sister could have saved me.” Gladio offered quietly. “I owe you both.”

Ravus ignored the comment and begged his help again in keeping his sister at bay. “Don’t forget to talk to Luna. She won’t believe anything I say.”

“Done,” Gladio promised, “So um – if you need to talk more, I’m here in all of my unprofessional capacity.”

“It’s not going to happen overnight, I need time.”

“I know.” Gladio acknowledged.

“Let’s get back, I’m sure Loqi is trying to hit on Luna as we speak, and honestly I think the idea of Noct marrying my sister is far better than that pipsqueak.”

“You need to help me, I’m still a mess.”

“We all are Gladio, don’t single yourself out in that regard.” Ravus sighed as he hefted Gladio up off the floor. “Shall we continue on?”

Nodding Gladio leaned on Ravus and they both made their way back to the car. Hopefully Gladio could field any questions they got so Ravus would be able to think on what they discussed.

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#ffxv #fanfic #gladio

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caroltheman · 4 years

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Read at your own risk. These are MY thoughts and MY feelings and they do not cater to the leftist idealism, so if you are afraid of getting your feelings hurt, STOP HERE.

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Today is a big day. I’ve never been so involved with politics EVER in my life than this year. In 2016, I was with the Democrats, the left, and whatever ideas were pushed towards me to stop Donald Trump from winning. I hated him. I hated the way he spoke. I was against my husband’s political stance (yes, the hubby and I can have different opinions and get along PERFECTLY). I thought he was a terrible example of what our nations leader should resemble. I was ANTI-Trump.

When he won, I didn’t care too much. I got over it. But... I kept an eye out on events after his election. I never really understood what was happening but I did hear whispers of what was going on in the white house every so often. As issues kept coming up... Build the Wall, ending of DACA, Large amounts of people running from other countries (mainly Latin American countries) trying to get into our southern border, Individuals from the cabinet slowly being replaced or resigning, impeachment, school shootings, banning of firearms, court cases (don’t really know much of that, but now I know its about individuals getting seats on the Supreme Court), etc. etc. etc. BLM, Antifa, more civil unrest, shooting of cops, burning of poor democratic cities, etc etc etc.. I started to wonder.... WTF is going on?? And demos still crying about the same shit...

I started to do research. I don’t really care to listen to local news and big news stations like Fox or CNN or whatever. Yes, sometimes I tune in to both sides, but seriously, I was sick of watching things set on fire. American flags burning. Looting. Violence. I was searching for perspectives outside of my overly democratic run social media feed. I’ve watched probably hundreds of videos of different people of all different walks of life. I started discourse with more right-winged individuals. I started to become more open minded about things on the right. And when I think about my only personal values, I kept finding myself more and more on the right side of things.

Today, this is where I stand:

1. I stand for strong border protection. I do not support shouting “Build the Wall” out loud, but I do support what that message means. To me, the wall is analogous to our house door. For all the people against strong borders, I challenge you to keep your door unlocked at night. Would you feel safe knowing that anyone can come in at any time? Anyone, as in people we don’t know. Any sane person with rationale would say NO. We must lock our doors at night. We must secure our house (just think of all the tech we buy to keep out houses secure) to keep people outside and keep our families safe. An open border sounds like chaos and the most unsafe place to stay. People are confused that building a wall means no immigration. That’s not what that means. It means that we are against ILLEGAL IMMIGRATION. I am an immigrant for heavens sake. I naturalized. I was not born an American Citizen and in order for me to receive benefits of an American Citizen, first, my dad served 12 years of his life in the United States Navy. He brought over my mom, my kuya, and myself to start a new life in a country with opportunity. I am thankful for his service and my moms sacrifice and bravery for leaving everything she knows and loves behind in order for my siblings and I have to an opportunity to be successful. People don’t understand that you cannot have a country as successful as the U.S. without protecting our land from outside forces. I do believe that we desperately need immigration reform. I would like all people of all different backgrounds and economic status to have a chance at being able to immigrate to our land, but I believe there is a right way to do it... and it definitely isn’t let everyone in anytime they want. I have kept my mouth shut about my stance on border protection because I am aware of my audience. I know that I have hundreds of students watching me. I know that a lot of them are low income. I know some of them are illegal. But as a teacher, it was never my mission to out undocumented students or families. I sympathize with my students who’s families face deportation, but I stand my ground that illegally penetrating our borders is not the way to do things. I don’t have a full on answer on how the country should handle it (obviously, I have my own life and I am not a politician - although I do have some ideas) but I know the difference between wrong and right. Entering this country illegally, to me, is not the right way... AND ESPECIALLY with the thought of my own family in the Philippines who also face the same struggles that others who flee their country face. It is unfair that due to physical proximity, some can just come through while others from PI and countries from all over the world are waiting for their turn. To me, that is unfair. Moving to Hawaii and having spoke to Aunties who have immigrated from PI has added even more support to my stance. I spoke to an Auntie that said she waiting 21 years to get her Visa. She is petitioning over her son who may wait about a decade before being looked at. I stand my ground on illegal immigration for people who are in line waiting patiently, yet desperately, to come here for their opportunity. I stand my ground for all the other people in the world who are also waiting for a way in to this country the legal way.

2. Law and Order. I mean, how is this even a topic of confusion? like WTF? This is one of the reasons that literally pushed me away from the left. You’ve got Antifa and BLM rioters burning cities and businesses down. (and yes, I know, I know.. the response is, “but that’s not ALL of BLM” or “those people are not even BLM”, or blah blah blah. BULLfuckingSHIT. They are all ANTI-trump and some of them (actually most that I’ve seen) do wear BLM shit. They tag BLM shit everywhere and they don’t care about who they hurt or what they bring down with their anger.) I’ve seen videos of these groups harassing people who are minding their own business and eating lunch as protestors are yelling in their faces and forcing them to leave. They surround elderly who are merely walking down the street by blocking their way and yelling at their faces. I’ve watched countless videos of small business owners trying to protect their property and life’s work by getting jumped or die trying to protect their store fronts. And you know what gets me ever more riled up, SOME (if not most) OF THOSE PEOPLE ARE BLACK!!!!!!! Black owned business burned down. Black business owners crying about their life’s work totally gone at the expense of the anger of the wrongful death of another black person (who happens to be criminal). I empathize with the anger and sadness of the wrongful death of George Floyd. I agree that justice for his life should be served. I agree that Police Brutality needs to be addressed and police accountability and training needs reform... but how the left handles their emotions of anger is un-excusable. I’ve seen posts from my liberal friends, “Let them show their anger the way they want.” WTF? Seriously? So, if I’m mad, I can just go burn shit down? go beat somebody up? Go shoot cops? Like every field, I believe there are bad apples. Any one who denies that, I’d be very cautious to believe, but I have faith that the majority of our police officers are not racist. I believe that the majority of them are trying to do the right thing. I hate to admit that police presence is probably more prevalent in communities with higher numbers of people of color, but I’m curious to know WHY are communities with high numbers of POC are more prone to gangs, violence, drugs, and inevitably higher presence of law enforcement. I wonder why? ...and that leads me to the next reason:

3. Accountability. Leaders like Candice Owens, the Real MAGA Hulk, Kingface, and many many many many many many more Black Americans talk about it all the time. They talk about why nothing has changed in our Black American Communities. They have been voting Democrat for YEARS... and its still the same! Biden and Kamala Harris have been in politics for soooo long, but whats going on in these democratic cities? More tents of homelessness. More criminal activity. More drugs. More human trafficking. But instead of acknowledging the issues that minorities face and holding ourselves accountable for the changes we want to see, what do we do? BLAME TRUMP. The guy has been in office for less than 4 years and everything is his fault. Trump this, Trump that. Trump is the reason everything is going wrong. Trump divides us. Trump makes me mad. Trump, Trump, Trump. Jesus Fuck. Sooo OVER IT. People want to blame him for their shortcomings, for the racial tension, for every single challenge we face as a nation. As an individual I hold myself accountable for where I am today. Every accomplishment I’ve successfully completed has all been to holding myself accountable for making goals, whether for my career or for romantic relationships, and making sure I make no excuse to meet these goals. Yes, I grew up disadvantaged! I’m a victim of living in low-income housing and a victim of an unstable household to include divorce, domestic violence, and exposure to gang life. Yes, we had Section 8. Yes, my mom used food stamps when we were young. Yes, my dad was not around due to the military and my mom practically having to hold shit down with three children in a country she knows nothing about with a language she barely knew with NO HELP as all her family is in the PI and my paternal side being pretty much evil and hated her. Yes, we moved a million times as a child - from an apartment near Kimball Park... to Meadow Brook Apartments... to my uncle’s house... to my other uncle’s garage...to the same uncles house... to a rent a room near where Joann/Erika used to live... to a house on M street... to the apartment on 2nd street (in the front)... to the same apartment complex but another apartment in the back... to an apartment behind Suhi... to an apartment on Highland Ave bordering Chula Vista... to the apartment on 1st Street... with pockets of staying in Welfare housing to staying at Rvy’s house to staying at Apryl’s house to staying at Josie’s house. Schools: from Kimball to John Otis to Daniel Boone to Las Palmas to El Toyon and finally, Granger Jr. High and Sweetwater. I remember having to use candles because we had no electricity. I remember no christmas tree during the holidays and instead using a sorry ass fake plant to replace it. I remember going on our show choir weekend trip to SF where my kuya and I literally exchanged looks as we decided which meal at McDonald’s we should share keeping in mind we have to budget for the rest of the meals we have to pay because thats all the money my mom gave us - while everyone around us could order much more than what we had. I remember hanging out with gang affiliated individuals and realizing how lucky I am to have separated from that lifestyle. Recently, I’ve been challenged to remember my upbringing, yes, my dear friend, I remember. I remember sitting outside your front door, peeking into the black metal screen door as my siblings and I watched you play the coolest and latest console gaming. I remember you hanging out after school at the Boys and Girls club while I hung out with the Mexicans and Samoans and the other crips whom were my neighbors. We can sit here and compare our sad stories and struggles but for people to ask me to reflect on the shit I’ve been through, brother you have no fucking clue. Have you watched your mom beat to colors black and blue? And I whole-heartedly am not trying to discount the struggles you’ve faced, but please don’t lecture me on why I should be angry or sad about my upbringing, because you have no clue what I’ve had to endure. My story is sad. If I had let that this shit bring me down and cry “Woe is me,” I have no doubt I wouldn’t be where I am today. Ever since I can remember, I’ve volunteered to be part of the change. Any positive change. I’ve dedicated my high school career trying to make school life as enjoyable as possible - but what happens? - the majority is still upset and hated the ASB (People have NO idea how many hours I’ve spent on the Suhi campus as a student trying to make things better). I’ve dedicated my post secondary life to become a teacher in the community I grew up in to affect change for the future generations. I stand as living proof that despite all the shit we all go through in life, we can be successful. WHY? Because we live in the land of opportunity. America is probably one of the only places (I can’t think of no other, but sure, lets pretend there are other countries like ours), where you can be poor and go through tons of shit and despite all of it, can still come out and be successful. But blaming others and being upset is not the key. It’s about HARD WORK and PERSEVERANCE, not blame or bull shit. This is the same kind of accountability that haunts communities with majority POC and I will not support the “Woe is me” or the “Endless Circles of Victimhood” mindset. I want out of that shit and into something better.

4. National Security and all its benefits. This is the only country that I’ve seen where there are people who hate it and refuse to leave. Like damn, you hate our country so much, you want to burn it down, and you REFUSE to get the fuck out. Must not be that bad? Our borders are closed for random people to be able to come in without a Visa or Citizenship, yet we do not stop people from leaving this country if they really wanted to. The fact that everyone is trying to come in proves that people would die to be here. The scariest part of this election (to me) is losing our freedoms. I’ve watched a video of a testimony from a Cuban guy who risked his life to wind surf from Cuba to land on the Keys of Miami to seek asylum. Thats how great Socialism is. He says, socialism sounds great in text book. It may even feel great the first few years, but after a while, it starts to suck when you realize the government controls what you eat, when you eat, when to shop, where to shop, where to go for medical, etc. etc. He says, he wakes up very early in the morning to line up for food for his family to receive some mediocre bread, rice, and beans or whatever he said was the glamorous meal of the day. He says, when he finally got to America, he cried at the sight of being able to eat steak because he never had an opportunity to do so in his home country. He says medical attention sucks because since everyone gets treated the same, everyone must wait in line. Anyway, if socialism was so great, why’d he risk his life to leave it? They say Socialism is the step before Communism (places like China). You’ll never find anyone in China burning Chinese flags because if you do, you’re dead. I think at this point in the election, everyone has already chosen their sides. You’re either left or right. I don’t care to change Leftist perspectives but this is the side I chose for myself. Trump didn’t need to become president. Why the fuck would he want to do that? He had it all. He doesn’t even take a salary. He’s been attacked for the last 3-4 years, event after event. He’s attacked for being a racist, yet Dems support Joe Biden who LITERALLY said, “If you don’t know who you are voting for, me or Trump, then you ain’t Black.” That is literally the most racist shit I’ve ever heard and if we flip the script and Trump was the one who said that exact same line, the media will be having a field day!!!! But it was Biden who said it, so let’s forgive him, blame trump, and sweep it under the rug. Trump is not the best speaker, I’ll give you that. I can barely stand his voice sometimes. I too, need to take a break from his rallies of screaming and shit lol, but I admire that the guy is NOT a politician. He doesn’t need to listen to lobbyists who want him to do things because he doesn’t need money. He cannot be bought. On the other hand you have long time politicians like Biden and his family who have made money through and through by running for political spots promising things he’s never delivered. Black people look to him for some deranged idea of “hope” like he’s going to affect change when he himself wrote the 1994 Crime Bill which incriminated many people for petty crimes, primarily POC. Kamala Harris did the same thing according to many black testimonies I’ve seen - they are LITERALLY running away from her. Trump stands for America and its values. As a so-called racist, he signed a bill giving Historic Black Universities funding for not one year, but many years! I think 10, is it? (i’ll leave the dems to fact check it). He has created opportunity zones in democratically ran cities. He has pardoned POC to finally escape from prison for non-violent crimes. I mean, you have to wonder.. yes there are black people that hate him in the spark of BLM when they come out, but there are a lot of black people who love him too. Trump stands up to other nations and his “bad-ass” attitude may not be attractive to our soft demo’s who prefer to vote personality over policy, but it’s the same attitude that demands more from other countries in terms of financials and their fair share in world-wide peace. Trump is not a political puppet that can be swayed and pressured into selling out our country’s soul at the hands of other countries who are so called out performing us in every possible way - military strength, education, and financials. No one wants to talk about Biden’s ties with China but that shit is literally scary. It’s not that “impossible” to believe that we could be attacked at anytime (Hawaii and SD would be huge targets). Trump expects more from other countries and only makes deals that will benefit our country, not theirs. As the demos look up to Biden/Harris for whatever they are crying about, others are looking to Trump/Pence to literally MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN. I have never been so proud and patriotic as a proud Republican Female Immigrant voting for Donald Trump. A long time ago, I let my teacher know (Mrs. Hall or Mrs. Rose) know that I was agnostic and asked, "Will I ever find my reasoning to believe?”. She said, “One day, you will find one. Some day. Just Wait.” I think it’s today, lol. If Biden wins, I’ll start praying our nation doesn’t get sold along with it. I thank my husband and Josie for helping me keep it together through this ever emotional year of 2020. I pray that all this is in my head. I look to House of Cards for a reminder that maybe... all this political shit is exactly that - just politics. I pray there is nothing to fear and that our national security is at no risk if Biden wins. I pray that if Biden wins, my demo friends or ex-friends are right - that he’s gonna do the right thing for the our nation and it’s citizens.

5. Hatred FROM the left. Honestly, I started to secretly doubt the left, but kept my mouth shut about it especially on social media - knowing that more than 90% of my feed were leftists. I only spoke to people I trusted who would help me create logical thought processes on how to absorb the things I was seeing realtime. Little did I know that my social media silence bothered a black person and he called me out for not saying anything. So I pursued research. I watched videos of the cries of BLM and found that besides George Floyd’s death (and a few others), I don’t see the same things other Demos see in these cases. Breonna Taylor died in the hallway of her own home, not in her bed when she was sleeping, unless she sleeps in the hallway, but idk her so who really knows? Coming to find that her bf is the one that shot at the cops first and shot a cop in the leg to be answered my gun shots leading to Breonna Taylors death but not the BF who hid behind her. Ya’ll want to protest that?? What about the cops that are trying to do their jobs? They were there due to continuous investigations of drugs that BT’s bf was involved in. What about the families of the cops? Are they expected to just come home dead? I would NEVER allow my husband to be a police officer. It is a bad time to be one. They risk their lives everyday to do what’s right and yet they get shit thrown at them, deal with rioters that hate them, etc etc. If my husband had to chokehold someone (IDGAF if he or she was white, black, asian, mexican, WHATEVER race bait you want to bring up), I authorize my husband to throw it down however the fuck he felt necessary to come back home to me and my future family. I stand with the spouses and families of all service members that sacrifice everything for the common good and safety for the people and their communities. AND I KNOW, that there are BAD COPS out there. I agree with you that they should be addressed and be pushed to resign, but I believe that the majority of our service men and women are here to do the job the right way. I back the blue 100%. If you don’t, I better not hear or see of any demos calling cops when you need help. I hope you win your battles with your pitchforks cause ya’ll won’t even have weapons to defend yourself if ever you had to because Demos are trying to take your guns away. lol Yea yea, pretty dramatic, but not “impossible” in my eyes. *DEEP BREATH* After sporadic days of emotional wreck, I made a decision on where I stand, I posted, “TRUMP 2020″ and here they come!!!! “If you vote for Trump, you are a racist” Really bro? All of a sudden, I’m a racist? “How can you vote for him? You are a female, asian immigrant!” What does that even mean???? Because I am a female, or because I am Asian, or because I am an immigrant, are you telling me that I only have ONE WAY TO VOTE?! That is the most UN-FREE-ING thing anyone has every told me. There’s only one way. Sounds like a fucking trap. The left made it clear to me - that is not the side I want to be on. Easy choice. AND EVEN THEN... My black ex-friend, says... “Ohhhh, your husband is white and in the miltary. Makes sense.” MOTTTHEEERRRRFUCCCKKKERRR. Did you just discredit my position because my husband is a white man in the Navy? Pffft. I’ve walked away from the left with no intent to return. I’ve learned that I need to have thicker skin when it comes to losing friends because we can’t see eye to eye with politics. I won’t initiate separation but I’ve spent plenty of time thinking about the kinds of people and ideology I’m leaving behind in 2020 and looking forward to cultivating relationships with those who still accept me despite our differences and especially those who share the same ideology.

6. Hate for America and Disrespect for our Armed Forces. I don’t know about the rest of you, but when I see American flags burning or football/basketball players kneeling during our National Anthem, it doesn’t make me want to join you. I asked my husband, “How do you feel when people kneel during the National Anthem?” He said, “I joined the military so they have the freedom to do what they want.” WTF?! My dearest hubby, I love you for your humble stance because you are right.. Americans are free to do what they want... and this freedom is protected by the men and women who sacrifice their lives to defend this country from outside forces! Don’t you guys fucking remember World War II??? We barely won this war. Some say by luck of the creation of the atomic bomb from someone from our side. If we had lost that war, we would probably be owned by Japan? maybe Germany? (Seriously, I wished I paid more attention when I was enrolled in history classes. lol) In my eyes, we wouldn’t have our current freedoms or our current lives if the brave men and women of our armed forces didn’t sacrifice their lives to preserve it... and ya’ll have the balls to kneel for what???? racial injustice for criminals?? GET. THE. FUCK. OUT. OF. HERE. There are plenty of mothers who give birth to babies who’s dads can’t be there because they are overseas. We’ve got people crying about COVID? << (don’t even get me started on that shit) Countless fathers miss their babies births, birthdays, graduations, weddings, etc. etc. to protect our great nation so that you can, in turn, burn the flag and disrespect what it stands for. People can’t be with their friends and families during COVID?? I sympathize with you but now you’ve had a small taste of what military families go through. Then you got people who respond with, “But that’s your choice. Your choice to join the military. Your choice to marry someone in the military.” FUCK YOU. Are you telling me that people like my husband don’t deserve to be loved and supported in fear that we will be separated for months at a time while he is over seas?? Fuck you. I’m actually VERY LUCKY that I met a man that has worked his way up that I didn’t have to feel ALL the sacrifices that other families have made. Do you know what military families have to go through to keep their families together?? There are plenty of families broken because spouses are not together, and to say - “oh that’s their choice” is the most selfish thing EVER... and I don’t (completely) blame the family members that are left behind when they can’t hack it, because seriously, it’s hard. Countless nights alone and separated from loved ones. Trying to do a two person job alone ALL THE TIME, not just a couple days, but MONTHS. Sometimes YEARS altogether. My husband may not care about the donk donks that disrespect our military and everything they’ve done and to all the lives sacrificed, and to all the service members who come back with no families, no love, and no one to support them, I STAND WITH YOU. Oh! Oh! Don’t even get me started with the VA and the medical that is provided to our service members. People want Free Healthcare?! Veterans have Free HealthCare and its one of the worst! We provide our service members with maybe “par” sometimes SUBPAR healthcare. I technically have free healthcare, but in fear that I won’t be seen on time or seen with proper care when I get pregnant, we have opted to pay the extra fees for better care.

7. Personal Health and Sanity. To discuss all the controversial things that the right vs left argue about sounds mundane and tiresome. It really is. I’ve invested so much time and emotions deciphering where I stand to include conversations with handfuls of people who say, “I respect your opinion and I’ve always respected you as a person and am curious to know why you’re voting for Trump.” I’ve questioned my position many times. I’ve watched and read (although, I’ll admit, I hate reading and it was never something I was strong in. I am a visual person and I prefer to hear and watch videos of other’s personal thoughts and experiences.” I appreciate my friend, Cassie, who reminded me, it doesn’t always have to be about policies. It is okay to vote for Trump based on my own experiences - just like how she see’s things. She a Mexican trump supporter who legally immigrated to the U.S. from Mexico and attended SYH. She watched her school cater to undocumented students putting their needs before hers when she is an Mexican-American who’s single mom pays taxes and wanted to learn curriculum in English, not Spanish, but was taught in Spanish because the other kids didn’t know English. Cassie, you literally lifted tons of weight off my shoulders. Thank you! I thank my long time friend Paulos, who responded to my recent post of me wearing a Trump hat with, “You’re about to piss off ALL your friends. Good job though. Fuck em lol” I responded with, “I fucking love you!!” Always have and always will. I’ve never in my life felt like I couldn’t be myself out loud until 2020, a time where leftists shame you for having a different opinion and basically delete you if you support Trump. But I thought to myself, this is the WORST TIME to stay quiet. I am worried that our youngsters who live in democratic cities like National City are only exposed to what the left exposes them to, triggering hate and fear that may or may not be real, and despite my very democratic social media feed, I figured, I’ll be the first to stand for what I believe in with pride and without shame. I have always done what I believe is right, even if its not the most popular opinion, and even if that meant standing my ground against people I thought loved me - especially coming from California, and especially coming from National City. I have ALWAYS told the hubby that after he retires from the Navy, I only see us living in SD. This is the first time in my life where I did not want to come back to CA. In fact, CA was third on my list after Texas and Tennessee. I want to thank my bf Jo, for reminding me of why I should reconsider and remember where my roots are. To remember our upbringing and remember that the people we are most close with today are those in proximity to us. Thank you for taking me out of my very emotional mental state and bringing me back to rationale about why it is important to me to live near my closest friends and family and I truly thank you for investing time to make sure I am always considering all my options rationally and not emotionally. I thank my family, although we are 3vs2 lol we still love each other despite what we value politically. I thank my husband who protects me, my thoughts, and my values. I thank you for being patient with ALL my emotions throughout this year. You have NEVER EVER EVER pushed me to be one way or another. You have ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS let me decide things on my own and in my own time, including the move to Hawaii and my recent change in political views. You truly are the BEST person I know and I will love you FOREVER!!!!! Lastly, Thank You Donald J. Trump for ruffling feathers everywhere and shedding light on the bull shit going on with politicians. Thank you for sacrificing your life as well as your families’ lives and businesses for the sake of preserving American values and American Life. GOD BLESS AMERICA.

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jarienn972 · 7 years

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Only a Little Superstitious - Chapter Six

With my kids spending the week with my mother, I’m looking forward to some peace and quiet to get some writing and editing done. This ended up being a long chapter but there are a lot of little, very important things woven into his installment. Apologies to @killian-whump as there isn’t a whole lot of actual whump in this chapter - there is a little angst on Emma’s part, but don’t worry - I’m definitely not done with our injured pirate.

AO3 FF.net Tumblr: Chap 1 Chap 2 Chap 3 Chap 4 Chap 5

Emma tried not to dally too long in the bathroom, not wanting to appear rude and be late when invited to dine by one's host. At least she now felt a tad more presentable although there really wasn't much she could do about her filthy blood-stained clothing at the moment. She was quite certain that Grandmother Sarah Bending Willow already sensed she was hiding something by not immediately removing her leather jacket but she couldn't take it off until she was in the privacy of the tiny bath, shrugging it off and carefully folding it to keep Killian's hook concealed within.

Now that they were on the Sun Valley floor, she retrieved her cell phone for the first time in hours knowing she needed to check in with her family and trying to keep a positive outlook when she glanced down to check the battery charge level. 45 percent – not bad considering she'd been out of range of a tower for so long. It would at least give her a few minutes to speak to her parents before she'd have to try to scrounge up a charger somewhere. What surprised her more than the battery indicator was the time displayed – nearly 6:30pm here in Arizona which meant it was after dark back home. Had it really been twelve hours since she and Killian had met her parents for breakfast at Granny's? It didn't seem plausible – unless the portal had somehow altered time for them? So many things made so little sense right now…

She ducked outside with her jacket balled up and tucked under her arm just in time to see Ranger Littlecreek climbing into his SUV to head back to work for the rest of his shift. He didn't have much time for farewells, but he promised he'd check back with her as soon as he could and assured her that Grandmother would take good care of them. Not having had a clock at the way station and pretty sure her cell phone time wouldn't have been reliable up on the mountain, Emma wanted to ask him what time it had been when he'd arrived at the cabin, but she decided to save that for later. Her story already sounded like the ramblings of a crazy person. Why add fuel to that fire?

So, she kept her question to herself and instead tapped the speed dial number for her father's phone.

"Emma!" her father answered a little too enthusiastically. "I'm so glad you found a way to call back. Are you okay?"

"Dad, I'm in Arizona, not another realm. Just had to get to a place with cell phone service. And to answer your question, we're fine for now. A Park Service Ranger found us and brought us down to the home of his Navajo grandmother who was kind enough to treat Killian's wound with some natural potions and herbs. He's sleeping again now…"

"Why didn't you go straight to a hospital" David sounded confused at her decision.

"Honestly, Dad, I was a little bit afraid to. When you said that the man who stabbed Killian followed us through the portal, all I could think of is that he's already hunting for us. The first place I would start searching would be hospitals and urgent care locations and until we know more, I just couldn't take the chance that this mystery person would think the same way. Have you learned anything more about this pair that started this mess?"

"Not yet. Regina hasn't gotten back in touch with us yet, but knowing her, she'll get a name out of our prisoner. Hopefully, we'll hear from her by morning."

"Okay. Call me or text me as soon as you know anything. I've got to try and find a charger for my phone and maybe some clean clothes if I can get to a store around here, but please, let everyone back home know that for now, we're safe."

"Try to stay that way," David insisted. "I'll call you as soon as we know anything else."

"Thanks, Dad," she said as she disconnected the call just as a grumble from her stomach reminded her that their gracious host had offered dinner and she wasn't about to decline that offer.

She hadn't thought of herself as being that ravenously hungry until she'd completely devoured the offered bowl of stew and a piece of bread that she could only describe as a thick, puffy tortilla that had been flash fried in oil. It was warm, crispy on the outside and chewy inside and was a perfect accompaniment for the savory stew - so good that it had her desperately wishing to ask for seconds but she didn't want to appear greedy or disrespectful.

"I honestly wish there were words to describe just how much we appreciate everything you're doing for us, Grandmother," Emma thanked her.

"It is my honor to provide my meager services to someone who has been so dedicated to helping people," the elder woman replied with a humble smile causing Emma to nearly choke on her last bite of fried bread. Just what exactly did this woman know about her?

"I've helped a few people get through some tough scrapes…"

"You chose to become Sheriff," Grandmother explained her earlier words. "I'm sure your decision to enter law enforcement has aided many?"

"I guess," Emma deferred. "I suppose I've never really thought of it that way." Okay – it was about her being a Sheriff, not a savior.

"You're allowed to take pride in what you do. A little bit of pride isn't harmful." Emma had to stifle a chuckle at the old woman's advice. If only she knew what her work really entailed.

"Thank you for the advice. I'll have to keep that in mind the next time I'm dragging a drunk out of the alley behind the Rabbit Hole," she responded with a wide grin as the elder woman began clearing dishes from the table. "May I ask you a question though?"

"Of course, child. You may as me anything – except my age." Grandmother said with a sly smile on her lips.

"Your grandson said that you'd had a vision of someone needing help up on the mountain and that you'd been the one who sent him up to that way station earlier. Is that really how he managed to find us?"

"I used to see things all the time, but it has been many, many years since a vision has been so clear. I saw someone in distress near the summit trail so I asked Carlos if he would go there. He humors my eccentricities at times, but this time, I'm pleased that he listened to me."

"So are we. I don't know what we would have done if he hadn't come by… Would the man who attacked us have found us first or worse yet, would Killian have bled to death because I was too stubborn to call for help?"

"But those things did not happen. For now, you will be safe here, but I warn you that there is only so much I am able to do. I don't wish to frighten you but I am worried that the bleeding will not stop. The trouble is we only see what is on the surface, but below – below, I fear may lie a greater threat."

"What do you mean by that?" Emma wondered, a chill suddenly finding its way up her spine at the Navajo woman's mysterious choice of words.

"There is no way for me to be certain, but I fear that a piece of the blade used to stab him remains within…"

"Wait...," Emma gulped, all of her senses instantly heightened. "You think part of the knife might have broke off when it struck something inside his chest?" She didn't want to believe it. She knew her father had found the dagger after it had been dropped, but why wouldn't he have mentioned it was broken? Did it not occur to him how important that miniscule bit of information might be?

"I obviously cannot verify that. It is merely a feeling that I have."

"I'm inclined to believe that your 'feeling' is probably correct," Emma sighed, weary from exhaustion and a day filled with worry. "My father found the knife that Killian was stabbed with, but he didn't tell me it was broken. I suppose he assumed it happened when the attacker dropped it, but my gut believes you."

"I would prefer that not to be the case as it only makes the situation more grave for your husband. Every time he moves, that piece could shift position, inflicting additional damage - so, until it can be removed, his life remains in jeopardy."

"Story of our lives…," Emma muttered under a deep frustrated breath.

"You look completely exhausted, child. Why don't you try to get some rest while your husband sleeps?"

"That honestly sounds like a wonderful idea."

"Then go. You will need the rest as much as he does. Just promise me that when he wakes, you'll have him drink more of the tea. It may not be the most pleasant substance, but it is brewed from plants with antibiotic properties to hopefully prevent infection and the pain reliever it contains will also help him greatly."

"I may have to give him a rum chaser," Emma replied with a tepid laugh as she stood up. She collected her folded jacket from the chair beside her where she'd carefully placed it before sitting down to dinner, her body already screaming for a nap. "I'll make sure he drinks it though. This has been such a long day…," she mumbled as she withdrew her phone to turn it off, hoping to conserve the remaining battery until she could locate a charger. "You know, I really hate to bother you with this but you wouldn't happen to know where I could get a charger for my phone? I didn't exactly have the foresight to shove one in my pocket this morning…"

"I'm sure my grandson would know. I'll have him check to see what he has lying around."

"Thank you," Emma replied then before she could excuse herself, the elder woman reached out to grasp Emma's right hand, squeezing it tightly between both of hers.

"Perhaps we will soon learn the reason you were brought to us," the Navajo woman stated cryptically, a sentiment that rung in Emma's ears long after the words were said. She'd smiled politely and nodded, perhaps too tired to discern the meaning behind the odd gesture and statement. She understood that it was intended to be encouraging, but in reality, it left Emma slightly unsettled as she made her way down the narrow hallway clutching her jacket to her chest.

Trying not to disturb her husband, she pushed the door open slowly, then closed it behind herself before perching on a corner of the mattress to finally unzip and remove her boots – an act in which she took a likely unhealthy amount of pleasure completing. Wiggling her now freed sock clad toes, she heard a soft rap on the door. She padded over to the door and opened it to see the dark haired, hazel-eyed teen she'd briefly met earlier standing in the hallway with a handful of assorted cables.

"Hi," he said timidly. "Grandmother said you needed something to charge your phone. I didn't know what kind…"

"Hi, Joseph. That's partially my fault. I didn't really specify. Let's see if you've got one that matches…" She showed him the charging port on the bottom of her device and together they narrowed his collection of cords down to the proper one. "Thanks so much! I'll return it to you in the morning…"

"That's okay. You can keep it as long as you need it. My new phone uses a different one now."

"Thank you," she smiled as he walked away and she quietly closed the bedroom door again to get a little privacy.

The double bed took up most of the room so it required a bit of contorting on her part to reach the electrical outlet behind the nightstand, but it was worth the challenge when she saw the word "charging" appear on her screen. She dropped her jacket onto the floor next to her boots and started to unbutton the tattered remains of her blouse when she heard a weak, raspy "Swan?" from the bed behind her.

"I'm sorry," she apologized as she carefully sat back down on the bed, this time beside him, trying not to jostle it too much. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"I don't mind. I'm still quite tired…"

"Well, I hate to do this to you, but while you're awake, I'm supposed to have you drink more of the tea sitting here…"

"Bloody hell, Swan… I'm already wounded. Do I have to be poisoned as well?" Much to his disdain, his wife simply rolled her eyes, unmoved by his protest.

"It can't be that bad," she insisted, shaking her head as she lifted the mug of the now cooled liquid from the nightstand. It did have a rather strong, earthy odor to it, but it didn't really seem any worse than the untold number of potions she'd encountered since learning about magic. "Some of the concoctions that Regina has brewed up have been far worse than this – and this one has an antibiotic that you need. The wound is probably already infected since we couldn't exactly treat it properly right away."

"It's a good thing that I'm too fatigued to put up a fight," he relented, pushing himself into the most upright position he could manage without sending further bolts of pain radiating throughout his chest. Emma tried to guide him and urged him not to move so quickly.

"Easy – not so fast… The bleeding has finally slowed. We don't want anything to open back up…" She wasn't about to inform him that he might have a razor-sharp fragment of the dagger embedded inside his chest just yet though. She slid her arm around his shoulders to support him as best she could while she brought the mug to his mouth, allowing him to take a tentative sip. He grimaced as soon as the liquid hit his tongue, but she wasn't going to let him stop there. "It's going to take more than that…"

"Easy for you to say…," he grumbled as he begrudgingly took another mouthful of bitter tea, but that second swallow was all he could stomach, his face suddenly blanching as he was struck by a swell of nausea. "I'm sorry, Love… I cannot…"

"It's alright," she assured him, placing the mug back onto the nightstand before helping to ease his head back down to the pillows beneath him. "How about we both get some sleep and we'll worry about that in the morning?"

"There'll be no argument from me…," he whispered, the pain and fatigue already taking their toll on his lucidity. She made her way around to the other side of the bed, curling up beside him after turning off the bedside lamp, not even knowing which one of them drifted off to sleep first.

Morning came in the form of a bright light filtering through the curtains on the window above her head providing a rather rude interruption to Emma's dream. Blinking awake, she couldn't yet make out the time displayed on her phone but she guessed it was early based simply on how quiet it was around her. She could make out the slow, shallow breaths of her still sleeping husband beside her, noticing that at some point during the night he'd jettisoned the blanket off as it now lay in a crumpled heap at his feet. She wondered if he'd simply gotten too warm, which was highly likely considering the beads of sweat that glistened across his forehead and down his neck.

Leary of waking him, she sat up unhurriedly, contemplating whether or not she should take a moment to inspect his wound. She conceded that even if she did inadvertently awaken him, he'd be less bothered by the fact that she did so tending to his injury. He recoiled slightly as she peeled back a strip of the cloth tape holding the bandages in place, but he didn't stir. Beneath the layers of bloodied cloth, the edges of the puncture were still an angry red and the darkened appearance of the surrounding skin had her concerned. As much as she feared his unknown assailant locating them, she knew she might have to rethink her decision soon – especially with the knowledge that a broken piece of the dagger might still be lodged inside his chest cavity. She tried not to think about how much internal damage might have been inflicted while they were hiking down the mountain trail. Had she unintentionally caused him irreparable harm by forcing him to suffer through all that additional motion? Had her decision to not immediately get him medical attention endangered his life?

She buried her face in her hands as all the thoughts overwhelmed her, but she didn't allow herself to dwell on them. Pulling her head back together, she gently replaced the dressing over his wounded skin and tugged the blanket back over top of him. She tenderly caressed his cheek, her fingertips sensing his slightly feverish temperature as he turned his head toward her, seeking out her touch. His chest heaved as he drew in a deep breath, but she watched his face immediately contort as he grimaced through the obvious discomfort that even the simple act of breathing brought on.

"I'm sorry…," she whispered as the pad of her thumb absentmindedly traced the scar across his cheek, pausing when she reached the corner of his mouth. She hesitantly withdrew her hand, knowing she needed to let him rest, but she felt so listless – forcing herself to set her feet upon the floor and stand before finally managing to slip silently out of the door into the hallway.

She wasn't at all surprised that Sarah Bending Willow was already awake, rustling about the kitchen likely preparing breakfast. When Emma walked in, the older woman was scooping up a spoonful of a substance that looked like oatmeal, dropping it into a cast iron skillet and frying it a golden brown. She might not have known what exactly was being cooked, but the aroma was delectable, smelling of vanilla and something resembling popcorn?

"Come," her host invited her to the table as she noticed Emma lurking at the end of the hall. "I'm making sweet corn fry cakes and I've brewed a fresh pot of coffee. Mugs are in the cupboard right above the coffee maker so please – help yourself…"

"Thanks," Emma replied, taking quick strides directly toward the coffee pot, grinning as she opened the cabinet door to see the old woman's eclectic collection of mugs. No two were alike yet there was clearly a coherent theme – celestial objects. Suns, moons, clouds and even a few planets graced the exteriors of the ceramic and plastic mugs. Selecting one with an image depicting the big dipper constellation, she filled it two-thirds of the way with the steaming hot liquid and added just a splash of cream from the tiny pitcher next to the pot.

"I hope you slept well," the old woman said to her as she continued uninterrupted making the little cakes. "Your husband is still resting?"

"I slept quite well considering and yes, Killian's still asleep. I tried hard not to wake him while I took a quick peek under the bandages. It's looking really red and seems darker around the edges."

"I will mix up more of the medicine, but skin discoloration isn't uncommon with the turmeric and clove used in the mix. Were you able to encourage him to drink any more of the tea?"

"Only a few sips, but then he started to get nauseous so he stopped and went back to sleep."

"Very good. I know it isn't the easiest to swallow, but it is good for him."

"Most medicine isn't particularly easy to swallow," Emma smiled as she took a seat at the table, sipping the still too warm beverage. "And he tends to be rather stubborn when it comes to taking medicines anyway. Rum is usually his answer to everything."

"My guess is that his obstinance has served him well," Grandmother stated with a knowing smile as she flipped two of the corn cakes onto a plate and delivered them to the table, sliding them directly in front of her guest. "It seems to me that your husband has a very old soul – and an oft-troubled one at that."

"I guess you could say that…," Emma replied, almost sheepishly, not wanting to let on exactly how old of a soul Killian actually possessed. The old woman simply nodded at her response while reaching in to an open drawer behind her to fish out a fork.

"Now – eat," the elder woman insisted as she passed the fork to Emma's hand. "There is butter on the table and I can get you some agave syrup if you prefer them sweeter…" Emma cut off a small morsel with the side of her fork to get a taste of the creation, realizing that they were essentially a sweeter, crispier version of cornbread – and that they were delicious.

"Don't need to add a thing!" Emma gushed, both in response to the flavor and toward this woman's generosity. "These are amazing! I'll have to get the recipe from you because my family would love these."

"Ancient Navajo secret," Grandmother stated, seriously at first, but rapidly breaking into a wide grin. "No – not exactly… I've modernized my recipe with instant grits but don't tell my grandson that. Beats the hell out of grinding all that corn." Both women shared a hearty laugh as Emma finished up her breakfast while Grandmother continued frying more until the batter was finished. "Carlos will be stopping by soon for breakfast as well. He does every morning before heading out to the mountains."

"Seems like a pretty lonely job – just driving around a National Forest all day."

"It is sometimes, but he loves it. He says it allows him time to connect with the mountains – with our heritage and ancestors. The land you now know as the Superstition Mountains and the Tonto National Forest holds many sites sacred to the tribes. This land was once rich with magic, but not so much anymore. Centuries passed, beliefs changed and the magic left."

"Maybe it's still out there somewhere?" Emma suggested. "After all, some sort of magic did lead you and Carlos to find us…"

"I would like to believe that it is," the old woman replied with a noticeable hint of sadness. "Do you believe in magic, child?"

Emma had to pause before attempting to answer the question, not exactly certain of how much she should say on the subject.

"A few years ago, I would have said no, but then something changed. The son I'd given up for adoption found me and led me to a place where I was able to reconnect with my parents and then Killian unexpectedly came into my life. They all brought me the greatest magic of all – true love – so I guess you can say that I do believe in magic."

"It makes my heart stronger to know that someone does still believe. There's too much cynicism in our world today. The magic won't return if no one believes…" The old woman turned away as if she didn't wish for her guest to see the melancholy present in her eyes.

"Is Grandmother giving you her 'believe in magic' speech?" a voice asked as the mobile home's front door swung open and the tall, uniformed figure of Ranger Littlecreek stepped through, taking the same path directly to the coffee pot as Emma had earlier.

"Ignore him," Grandmother scoffed. "He will believe one day as well. He just needs the right person to guide him to the truth."

"I think I can relate," Emma responded with a half smirk curling on her lip.

"I may not know much about magic but I know a thing or two about helping out my fellow law enforcers," Carlos stated as he filled an oversized mug with coffee and then added a generous amount of cream and a heaping spoonful of sugar. "We keep a couple of storage bins full of donated clothing to help out lost hikers, wildfire victims and the like. It's nothing fancy, but I gathered a few things for you and your husband. I figured you might like to shower and change into some clean clothes. Hopefully I grabbed the right sizes too."

"I'm thankful for anything that's not caked with mud and soaked in sweat," Emma replied. "And I'm pretty sure Killian will appreciate anything not covered in dried blood."

"I thought you might feel that way. Bag's out in my truck. I'll go grab it for you and I'll bring in your husband's jacket that you left in my back seat too," he sat his royal blue mug with its bright yellow crescent moon image onto the kitchen counter and headed back out to his vehicle, returning seconds later with a jet black nylon backpack slung over his shoulder and Killian's balled up leather jacket tucked under his arm. He dropped everything onto the chair beside Emma and strolled over to retrieve his coffee while she surveyed the contents. Inside, she was surprised to find a couple of men's and women's tee shirts, two pair of basic black women's leggings and a pair of charcoal grey men's sweat pants. At the very bottom of the backpack, she even found a pack of unopened women's panties and two pair of men's boxer shorts with tags still attached. It was honestly far more than she'd expected.

"This is wonderful. Thank you so much," Emma said graciously. "I hate to keep saying this but I really don't know how to repay the kindness both of you have shown us."

"No payment is necessary," Grandmother insisted. "Now, if you would like to go bathe, I'll check on your husband."

"I would love that," Emma smiled, incredibly grateful for the change in their luck that led them to these amazing people, but they still had a long way to go, something she was instantly reminded of with the Ranger's next question.

"Quick question for you first, Sheriff – the man you think is hunting you – do you have a description of him?"

"I never really got a good look at him, but he was definitely over 6 foot tall, very stocky build – not overweight but just big. I know he had dark hair but that's about all I can tell you right now."

"That's fine. When you mentioned that someone might be out there stalking you, I checked in with a few colleagues last night for reports of unusual activity in and around the Superstition Mountain trails and found a report of a vehicle stolen from another trailhead approximately 10 miles from the way station you were in. Vague description given was a large, dark-haired man but the owner who witnessed the theft was too far away to do any better."

"Ten miles seems like an awful lot of distance away from us, but the man's description sounds close enough. About what time did that happen?" Emma wondered.

"The theft occurred just before the storm – reported approximately 12:30pm when the owners were heading back to their vehicle. Another hiker on the same trail gave them a lift down to the Ranger Station."

"Wait – 12:30? That was before the storm?" Emma was confused as it hadn't been that long after they'd dropped out of the portal and Arizona time was earlier than Storybrooke's… The timeline couldn't be right...

"Up there, yes. Storm rolled through about quarter to 1," Carlos replied. "If this is your guy, he was down here in the valley more than an hour before I found the two of you. The vehicle was found this morning near the bus depot in downtown Mesa. Unfortunately, their security cameras didn't pick up the vehicle when it entered so we didn't get an image of the guy to know for sure."

"Sounds like this guy knows what he's doing," Emma sighed. Odds were that this was the man who'd followed them from Storybrooke but where was he now? He could be absolutely anywhere in the Phoenix area by now which made her even more anxious to find a way home, but it was going to be a while before Killian would be able to make that trip – not without another magical portal opening up at least.

"Do not worry about this man right now," Grandmother told her. "He is not here and would not know to look for you here. Go and get yourself cleaned up. All this talk will wait for later."

#cs ff #cs fan fic #cs fanfiction #captain swan ff #only a little superstitious

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