The Viscountess Writes

A place to just dump my fics and random writings and thoughts and saved my old username on here

[allkinds-oftrash]

Dress

A/N: Hello again yall happy one month to the first part - Magic Jake! I honestly don’t know how the rest of you do it always putting out content consistently I applaud you all! For those of you have been following or listening to me ramble about this fic forever, thank you for waiting and its finally here!! It went through a couple of rewrites and changes but we made it. I would like to thank my writing friends for always writing with me, listening to my TGM rambles and hyping me up for this fic @hptriviachamp (an iconic beta reader a girl can ask for!) @jeanvanjer (who yall can thank for some of the most wholesome and fluffy scenes in this fic) @sophiamariabeckett (a bestie for life).  To all my Top Gun mutuals and new friends thank you so much for welcoming me into the fandom and always engaging back whenever I interact with yalls’ posts - you guys are the best!! Special shout out to @magneticghouls my Top Gun bestie. @rad-topgunn @tgmavericklover @jakeseresins @pegxcarter @mavswife [Do let me know if yall wanna be added or removed from my taglist!]

[Fic Notes: I’m a dumbass and made the Young Guns 20 somethings in the first fic so Jake is celebrating his 25th birthday in this one. While the MC has a name, this can be read a dark WoC!Reader fic]

So without further ado, I present Dress! Happy Reading - support and hype a girl by screaming to me about this in reblogged tags and comments thank you!! :D

Part 1 - Magic Jake Based on This Song | Playlist I Made For The Vibes

Keep reading

[allkinds-oftrash]

Magic Jake

A/N: Hey everyone, first off shout out to @cassiopeiaeuropa for the amazing prompt that can be found here! While our MC does have a name, it can be read as a WoC!Reader fic :)

A HUGE thanks to my beta reader and dear friend Trivia @hptriviachamp who has never seen the film but was really invested in this fic and helped me hone this fic over the last week and helped write a few of the lines! Also shouting this out to my new found Top Gun friends @magneticghouls and @mavswife for hyping me up and always listening to me gab about our little gay pilot movie. Anyways this is my first time writing something steamy so go easy on me - happy reading everyone!

[Note: So I wrote this way before I got fully invested in backstories and ages so in my mind Hang is 25 and the crew are 20-something year olds in their mid 20s to early 30s]

They say your 21st birthday was one you never forget. Sahara most definitely had one for the ages. While it wasn't his 21st, she knew Hangman certainly remembered hers. 

As any great best friends would, they threw her a party at a Go-Go club near their local Naval Air Base. It was your usual club scene: music blaring so loud you could hardly hear yourself, warm bodies sliding over each other and drinks sloshing in their cups as the patrons swayed back and forth in a boozy haze. She wasn't much of a party girl but hey you don't turn 21 everyday. 

Letting her friends navigate, she was careful not to bump into anyone or get drinks spilled on her. This was her favourite dress after all. She loved how the gold brought out the glow of her dark brown skin and how it fit perfectly on her. Best of all, it had pockets!

The group of girls made their way to the bar and she couldn't help but gawk at the Go-Go dancers on the bar top. They had every kind of first responder there in skimpier versions of their uniforms. She always did have a thing for men in uniform. Her friends were cheering at the men and they came armed with dollar notes to stuff in the dancers’ underwear while she went to get them drinks. 

***

It had been a long day at training on base today and the Young Guns needed to unwind. They usually go to the Hard Deck but Payback was told about this up-and-coming Go-Go bar nearby. Fanboy said all the girls loved them in their uniforms and there were dancers for Phoenix. To which she had responded she preferred the women at the bar. 

Hangman was just always looking for a good time so, of course, he agreed. He scanned the room, to see who he would bring home tonight. He got his friends' order and started to head to the bar. He made his way around the club stealthily. He had an artful way of avoiding physical contact with people until he wanted to. 

Both Sahara and him made their way to the bar at the same time and ordered in sync. She chuckled softly and offered to let him go first.

“No, it’s alright," he said with a shake of his head and a heartstopping smile, "Ladies’ first.” He moved aside for her to go ahead. She hated to admit it but coupled with his warm eyes and grin, it worked. He really did have a charming smile that made her breath hitch for a moment. At this point, she took a moment to really look at him. He looked like the Popular Jock archetype from a teen movie. Everything about him screamed All-American Ken doll to her from his side-slicked hair, clean shaven look to his bright green eyes. She was willing to bet that he was a quarterback back in the day, the kind of guy who thought he was a hot-shot in some Texas - she had detected a slight accent - high school in the middle of nowhere. 

Finally the bartender came over and snapped her out of staring at him. She dipped her head gratefully at Hangman and ordered. She turned to him after she had prattled off the group's drinks. 

“Why don’t we order together. What would you like?” She offered so he wouldn’t have to wait either. He quirked up the side of his mouth in an amused grin and gave her the crew’s orders for her to pass along. He had seen her staring moments ago and had a smug smile. Now, he was certainly interested in getting to know her. Just maybe, he had found the person to bring home tonight. He returned the favour of staring back at her as she relayed their orders to the bartender. 

She had the kind of beauty that required a second look. He studied her for a few moments, to take all of her in. She certainly took him by surprise as he was checking her out. She seemed very friendly, even with strangers like him and the bartender. Her eyes were a brown that radiated warmth and he could feel her full attention when she talked to him. It was the way her nose scrunched up trying to remember the order and the disarming way she smiled at him when asking about his drinks. His eyes then sweeped down the curve of her neck leading right to the main event. 

Her breasts were hard to miss. It was a very nice pair if he could say so himself. Voluptuous and seemed very snug, resting comfortably in her dress' bust. Of course, who could miss the birthday sash across her chest? It came with the territory. He forced himself to look into her eyes when she turned to him. 

“That’s a lot of drinks for one person.” She joked after she had placed the order. He couldn’t help but how her eyes glittered in amusement. She did have gorgeous eyes. She was beautiful, what else could he ask for in a one night stand? 

“Oh, I usually can drink anyone under a table but no, those are for my team back there.” He gestured to a group of uniformed men and women. She followed his eyeline and a few of them caught her eye. She waved at them to be friendly. As the drinks came, they split their drinks between them and Hangman paid before she could get her wallet out. For an All-American hotshot, he was pretty generous. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” She smiled as she took out her own cash to pay him back. 

“No, think of it as a birthday present.” He smirked, brushing her hand aside. Before she could ask how he knew, he gestured to her sash. “Hard not to notice it. Happy Birthday.” He wished her before sauntering away to his group. She just stared at him as he walked over to his table. It felt like a dream. A guy buying her a whole round for her birthday and not expecting anything in return? It felt too good to be true. She gave her head a small shake, not going to overthink it anymore, and headed back to her own group. 

Her friend nudged her playfully, “That was a really cute guy, did you get his number?” 

She couldn’t help but laugh but shook her head no. “Come on, today is about us, I don’t need a guy intruding on girls’ night.” Sahara declared, holding her drink up and had everyone clink their glasses together. 

“No, but we DO need some dancers here!” Another one of her friends cheered as they went to get some of the dancers for their group. Sahara needed a few more drinks before she could work up the nerve to want a lap dance, so for the first part of the night, she redirected the men to her friends. 

As the night wore on, Sahara saw her friends get more sloppy and very much inebriated. One of them started to wander off, her eyes lighting up as she spotted Hangman. She recognised him from earlier but couldn’t quite place how she knew him. Seeing him in uniform, she immediately jumped to the conclusion that he had to be a dancer.  Sahara’s friend downed another shot and made a beeline for him to ask him to give Sahara a dance.

Hangman was just shooting the shit with his friends as they did every Friday going into their weekend off. The night was still young, and this was around the time he picked up the girl and headed back to his place. But he wasn’t going to go over to Birthday Girl to beg. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin never begged. He loved it when they came to him. Besides, his part was done - buying her drinks. Now, it was her move. Unfortunately for him, she was taking longer than they usually did. He had been sneaking looks at her all night to see if she was ever going to come over, and the constant glances didn’t go unnoticed by his friends. 

Coyote was the first one to notice - of course, his ex-turned-best friend knew him the best. He playfully teased Hangman, “Found your target for the night?” Coyote was loud enough that the whole crew turned to look at her across the room. 

Oblivious to the attention, Sahara was just sipping her drink and smiling at her friends enjoying themselves with the dancers. She genuinely seemed to delight in their joy. Her dark hair swayed as she bobbed along to the thumping bass of the generic EDM that was playing through speakers. Hangman was personally a country music man but he took personal satisfaction in going one night without Rooster unplugging the music to play Great Balls of Fire. It was a good song, a great song even but to hear him play it every other weekend was ruining the song for everyone. 

There was something endearing about the way Sahara was more than happy to let her friends have the fun on her birthday. Maybe he could show her some fun. 

Halo and Phoenix were the first ones to pick up on Hangman practically undressing her with his eyes. They clicked their tongues disapprovingly at the boys.

“Bagman, leave her alone.” Phoenix piped up warningly while Halo finished the sentence, “Yeah, it’s her birthday, Hang, I’m sure she wants to be left alone on a girls’ night.” 

“Hey, birthday sex is always great. Don’t knock on it until y’all have tried it.” He said smoothly as a drunk girl stumbled over to their table. She had a toothy grin directed at him. This was clearly someone on a mission. 

“Are you lost, sweetie?” Halo nevertheless asked in her gentlest voice. Hangman couldn’t help but smile softly. Halo was honestly the nicest person he had met at Top Gun, but she was ruthless in the air. The stranger shook her head and then pointed at him. Hangman gestured to himself as if to say ‘Me?’, slightly confused.

“Hiiii,” She slurred in a high pitched voice, and took a moment to get out the words. She was drunk drunk. “I know you’re on your break right now, but I think my friend would love a dance from you! It’s her birthday, so you can’t say no!” She pouted as if that would help her case. As if sad drunk girls pouting were men’s kryptonite and well, she wasn't wrong. Hangman couldn't say no to that face. The moment she mentioned birthday, he knew exactly who she was talking about. Just to make sure, he looked over at where the drunk girl was pointing. Sure enough, it was Birthday Girl. 

The crew was too stunned to speak. They couldn't believe that someone actually mistook him for one of the dancers. Rooster was the first one to break the silence with a snort. 

"Oh honey, he's not-" 

"Shut the hell up, Bradshaw." Hangman hissed at him immediately, shutting Rooster down. He was flattered to be mistaken and more than happy to try to live up to the expectation. Now, even more so to prove Rooster wrong. He turned to the girl and put on his sweetest smile. 

"Of course I can, sweetheart. Lead the way." He stood up and started to follow her. He gave his friends a cheeky grin and two finger salute as he walked away. This burst their bubble of shock and Phoenix was the first one to laugh. 

"He's going to crash and burn." 

"Care to wager on that?" Payback asked the team, his eyes bright. Fritz took off his baseball cap to serve as their winnings pot and everyone started to toss their bills in. 

"My question is how the hell did he get asked?" Rooster folded his arms, huffing in annoyance. Coyote elbowed him playfully. 

"Jealous it wasn't you?"

"God, you sound just like him." Fanboy teased. 

Havard was the one who ended up shushing them.

"Hey guys, shut up! He's actually doing it." He pointed across the room where Hangman was chatting her up. Instantly, 10 camera phones came up and were recording. With the exception of Bob who was mortified for everyone involved. Yet, he couldn't look away. None of them could. They watched with bated breath as Hangman went over to make his move. 

*

Hangman strutted over to the birthday party, his eyes gleaming. He's never done this before but there's a first time for everything. As always, he's going to be the best at it. It was going to be so easy having her be his first. I mean look at her. She was hot. He could already imagine running hands down those curves. He saw the exact moment she realised he was prowling towards her. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted as she flushed. Her long, toned legs flexed in front of her as though she was bracing for him. He imagined them wrapped around his waist, her high heels digging into his back as she urged him on. 

"Saharaaaaa, look what I got you!" Her friend excitedly presented Hangman to her with jazz hands. Sahara looked up from her drink in surprise. 

"So we meet again, sugar." He had on his shit-eating grin. There's that Southern charm, she thought to herself. 

"So we do." She echoed before looking at her friend curiously, "What exactly did you get me, babe?" 

"A stripper!" She cheered and raised her glass with their other friends. They all started to egg Hangman on. He flashed her friends a dazzling smile at their encouragement.

Barely able to contain himself, he positioned himself in front of the Birthday girl. He leaned in close to her. Her hair seemed shiny and soft to touch. He could already imagine how they'd feel between his fingers pulling them. His fingers playfully tapped up to his zipper as he took his time to slowly unzip his jumpsuit. He was already teasing her. Her friends were eating it up and cheering for them. 

She couldn’t tell if it was the tantalising way he dragged the zipper down or how close he was to her, but she felt herself getting hot under the collar. There was just something about the way he looked at her with those intense green eyes. It made her blush. It was the kind of intense blush that went down to your neck and you felt yourself go warm all over. It made her still in her seat, curious to see what he was going to do next. She honestly didn’t know what to do with herself. That was the main reason she had declined lap dances all night. She didn’t want them to feel awkward just because she was. 

Hangman recognised the nervous look in her eye. Hell, he didn’t even know what he was doing. But he had watched Magic Mike and Burlesque, and figured he knew enough. He did his best to move his body against hers - dancing sensually while shrugging off his jumpsuit. Those strippers made it look so easy. Having those rippable velcro costumes most likely helped. He scoffed to himself. 

He finally had his jumpsuit off, leaving only his undershirt and boxers on. He pressed his body against her, his hips flushed against hers. He leaned over to whisper to her. His lips were so close to her ear, his warm breath tickled her, earning a giggle from her. 

“Just relax, I’ve got you.”

“What do I do with my hands?” She whispered back as her friends cheered once more. 

“WOOO SAHARA GET IT GIRL!” She cringed at their shamelessness and shot him an apologetic look. 

He waved them off, and made her focus on him. He took her hands and guided them to his undershirt. 

“You can help me take this off.” He smirked as she started to lift it, “And feel free to look at them, I don’t mind. It’s a part of the job description.” 

She snorted at his last line. "I'm fairly certain real strippers don't have this many layers. " She murmured as she pulled off his shirt. 

He clicked his tongue as he hovered over her. "Appreciate that I'm the real deal, sweetheart." He then bent down to her eye level as she completely took his shirt off. The intense way they stared at each other did her blushing no favours. It took a moment before she was able to tear her eyes away from him. His abs easily caught her eye next. They were extremely well defined, as though they were sculpted from marble. All she could think about was running her hands over them, taking in every single detail of them and committing it to her memory. 

In short, they were gorgeous and nothing short of perfect that she couldn't stop staring. 

In one smooth move, he took the top from her and put it around the back of her neck - closing the gap between them. She couldn't help but marvel at his body up close. He did say she could stare and then she decided to take it one step further. She looked up at him with a mischievous grin as she reached out to touch them, feeling like Peggy Carter in the first Captain America film. She grew more self-assured as she started to drag her fingers down to his happy trail. This elicited a soft, satisfied moan from Hangman. She grinned at the reaction and became more bold. Pulling him by the waistband of his underwear, she encouraged him to grind on her. "Well, Mr. Real Deal, show me what you've got." 

"Tell me what you like, sweetheart." His voice was low and he dropped the shirt in favour of sitting on her lap. He started to move his hips against her. His fingers ran down her arms, giving her goosebumps. 

"This is a good start." She said breathlessly, holding his hips and guiding him at the speed she liked. She could feel warmth pooling in her underwear. 

He held her firm by her waist, his large hands fitting perfectly against her curves. He kept going at it for a few more minutes, her hips slightly bucking up to his to close whatever was left of the space between them. He saw the way she was hungrily taking in his abs. He did her a favour and lifted himself ever so slightly to show them off more. She whimpered softly at the loss of contact and pulled him back down before he could. 

"No, keep going." She gasped as she was getting close. A smug grin made its way onto his face. He loved it when they wanted more of him. He wasn't going to stop anytime soon. As she held him in place, his hands started to wander. He wanted to explore every inch of her before the night ended. 

"Happy to oblige, sugar." He flashed her his best smile and got to work. He then grabbed her thighs and had her wrap them around him. Just as he was pressing his length against her, he felt someone pull him back. Both Hang and Sahara groaned at being ripped apart. The sudden coolness of the air took them by surprise. She sucked in a breath as she looked up at the stranger. 

Rooster cleared his throat, snapping them out of their bubble. "Pack it up, Hangman. It's starting to look like a porno." At his words, Sahara's cheeks started to turn a deep red once it hit her they were in public. 

Hangman groaned but relented. Rooster was right. It was a public space and his flight suit with the Navy patches was discarded on the floor. It wasn't a good look. He was quick to put on the jumpsuit and zipped it up as if their little strip tease hadn't happened. 

He turned to Rooster with a sour look, "A porno, really? What, were you filming on camera?" He scoffed, being sarcastic. What he didn't expect was for Rooster to hold his phone with the video. 

"We got you on 10 different angles, Hang." He gestured to the rest of the team. 

"Fuck you Rooster." Hangman flipped him off then narrowed his eyes at his team. Turning to Sahara, he gave her an assuring smile. 

"You alright, sweetheart?" 

"I'm fine." She mumbled and had a hand covering her face in embarrassment. She was desperately trying to cover up how violently she was blushing. Hangman shooed Rooster away as he perched himself on the armrest of her chair. He lazily dangled his arm around her. 

"I'll tell them to delete the videos." He promised her. She shook her head. 

"No, it's not that - I bet you looked hilarious." She chuckled. Rooster joined her, having overhead it. 

"She's a keeper, Hang."

"A little privacy please, Brad Squared." Hangman knew how much Rooster hated being called that. It was enough to get him to leave after glaring. 

"I'm just surprised at how much I enjoyed that." She admitted to Hangman quietly once they were finally left alone. He gave her a teasing grin.

"Don't get lap dances very often?"

"Well, I suspect you don't do them very often either." She countered. 

He clicked his tongue in agreement and then reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear, “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it, darlin', I did too.” 

There was just something special about him and the charismatic way that he drew her in. She definitely liked him and didn’t want their night to end. She snuck a look at her friends to check in on them. They all looked done for the night. This emboldened her to make her proposition. 

“Hey, do you want to go back to my place?” 

This caught him off guard, it was usually him asking the question of the night. He had to admit it: it was pretty hot when the other person made the first move. He was not going to complain, he accomplished his mission for the night. 

“I would love that.” He said, doing his best to be nonchalant. Then gestured to their group of friends, “We should probably tell them, and maybe in your case get them home?” 

Sahara glanced over at her friends, most of them already passed out in their seats. She nodded, agreeing. “I’ll meet you out front in 15?” 

“Sounds like a plan.” They split off as Sahara called Ubers for her friends. 

Hangman strutted back to his crew with a smug look. The whole gang groaned when they saw his face. Money was being passed around from most of them with defeated looks and most of the cash going to Coyote, Yale and Payback. 

“Always bet on Hang to get the person!” Coyote hollered while Yale high fived him. Payback just snickered, “I don’t know how he does it, he always ends up taking them home, y'all.” He was relishing in being able to live up to his name. Everyone always paid back Payback. 

He shook his head amused at the gang, “Any of you want to front me cash for the Uber?” He asked the three who won the bet. Of course, his boy, Coyote came through and fished out a couple of bills. Hangman took them gratefully and tipped an imaginary hat at him.

"Thanks, buddy." 

“Thank you for always scoring, Hang.” He snickered and Hangman left his friends behind after bidding them good night. 

***

When he exited the club, he immediately clocked her standing by the curb. She was smiling sweetly at the last group of friends as she sent them off in the Uber. She gave them one last wave before wrapping her arms around her coat, trying to keep warm. Then she started to look around for him. Her eyes lit up the moment it met his. 

“Hey stranger.” He came up to her with his signature cocky smile.

“After what we did back there, I think we’re a little more than that. And we haven’t even exchanged names.” She laughed lightly. They did all that and he still didn’t know her name. 

“It’s Sahara, right? That’s what your friends were calling you.” 

She was pleasantly surprised he remembered. That Rooster guy did call him Hangman but that had to be his codename or something. 

“Bingo.”

“Like the desert?”

“Hangman, like the game?” 

“Touché. Actually, I’m Jake Seresin but you can call me anything you like, sweetheart.” He winked at her and she couldn’t help but giggle. 

“Are you always this cliché?” 

“I am.” He then draped his aviator jacket over her shoulders to prove the point further. “And I’m even going to cover our cab fare.” He said as he flagged down a cab. Her eyes softened at how kind he was being. 

“God, you’re a dream.” She said in awe and couldn’t wait to get him back to her place. She gave the cabbie her address before turning to Jake. She grabbed the lapels of his jumpsuit and pulled him closer to her. 

“I’ve been wanting to do this all night.” She closed the small gap between them and kissed him. 

[viscountessevie]

To Lady Paige, With Love [Part 2]

Main Pairing: Eloise Bridgerton x FemOC! Paige Crane [Reference to Past! Marina Thompson x Paige Crane]

Series Summary: A WLW Rewrite of To Sir Phillip, With Love - featuring my OC Paige Crane, Phillip's twin sister. What happens when Eloise Bridgerton writes to Phillip after the death of his wife but her letter gets intercepted by his twin sister who loved more Marina than he ever did?

Chapter Summary: After corresponding with Eloise for over a year using her brother's name, Paige is mourning Marina's first death anniversary. All Paige wanted was some peace and quiet but little does she know, she's in for a rude awakening

Trigger Warnings: Grief, Brief Mentions of Previous Death/Suicide Attempt, Depression & Anxiety

Part 1 - Prologue: Take Me To The Lakes

Chapter 1: Right Where You Left Me [February 1823]

5:48pm. That time would haunt Paige for the rest of her life.

'Time of death: 5:48pm.' the doctor had said. The moment Marina was officially pronounced dead, Paige screamed. She could still hear the echoes of her own scream every night she spent in Marina's room, sobbing herself to sleep. It had been a month since she died. Paige truly understood what Marina felt and went through.

The grief, pain and sadness was all consuming. She was drowning in her own emotions. It made her want to throw herself into the lake and join Marina. At least drowning in the lake was tangible. It was a tangible way to match the melancholy she was feeling. Through the pain, Paige had learnt that when people take their lives, they don't get rid of the melancholy, they simply pass it on. Paige had become a victim of Marina's pain being passed onto her.

She knew that everyone was dealing with the loss on their own but she was just so angry with Phillip and the children and even the staff. Pretending like Marina was never there. The worst part is, she couldn't fault them for it. Marina wasn't there, at least not mentally present. The last month has eased off her anger. She nearly bit Phillip's head off when he came back from his business trip the day before she passed.

"You should have been here! I may love her but she's still your wife!"

"I had a very important specimen to pick up, you know that, Paige." He said gruffly. She was so sick and tired of him using his experiments as an excuse to neglect his family.

"I know that!" She snapped at him, "These trips are getting ridiculous. You can't keep using them to run away from your responsibilities. You made a commitment to her and your children. You completely abandoned them!" Her voice cracked with anger. Now Phillip was getting frustrated with her and snapped back at his twin.

"Do you think I wanted to carry those burdens? I had no choice in the matter! I had to be the one to clean up the mess George left behind!"

She stepped back at her brother's outburst. He never yelled. He refused to be their father. She knew she had crossed the line. She softened her expression.

"I shouldn't have yelled, I apologise. But so help me God, you will not repeat that to her or the children. They are our family, Phillip, 'not a mess George left behind." Her voice was low, laced with a cold fury.

"She's resting now but you should go see her. I'll give you two some privacy." Paige made her suggestion sound like a demand. There was absolutely no reason why he should neglect his duties as a husband now. She wasn't going to let him off the hook for it. She quickly slipped into the room to kiss Marina's forehead. She allowed Philip in and headed off to tend to the children.

Then there was that dreadful conversation where Amanda openly admitted that she was glad her mother was gone. Paige knew on an intellectual level that's not what Amanda had meant. She meant she was happy her mother was happy even if it meant she was gone. But emotionally, it destroyed Paige to hear that.

It was exhausting to feel like the only one who truly cared for Marina. She had all these emotions welled up inside her, screaming to be let out. Yet she felt like she couldn't talk to anyone. The children played and carried on as per normal. While Phillip had stopped taking his trips to avoid the children, he has hidden away in the Greenhouse more often. He refuses to talk about her. What else could she expect from her twin who represses the slightest hint of human emotion. God forbid he let himself feel sad.

She took a deep breath and reminded herself that everyone processed grief in different ways. She needed something to get her mind off things. On cue, Miles came in to deliver the mail. She gestured for him to hand them over and he took his leave.

She flipped through the envelopes, none addressed to her. Of course no one would write to her and the only person who would, died. She was about to put down the pile when a name jumped out at her.

From: Eloise Bridgerton No. 5, Bruton Street London

She remembered Eloise like it was yesterday. They spent some time together during their first season. She came as a package deal with Penelope Featherington. So when Marina had struck up a friendship with Penelope, Paige found herself spending a lot of time with the two of them. The four of them were quite the formidable group during that first season. Paige remembered how many suitors Marina had received. Unable to deal with her jealousy in a healthy manner, she did what she did best, ran away from her emotions. She poured herself into a friendship with Eloise. Somewhere along the way, she had developed feelings for the clever Bridgerton. She recalled how she did her best to repress those feelings. Even though at the time, Marina and her were nowhere close to courtship, Paige still felt like she was being unfaithful to her.

There was just something about Eloise that had drawn Paige to her.

She shook her head rather violently, as if trying to shake those memories away. How could she be thinking of that when she's supposed to be grieving Marina? She set down the letter, leaving it for Phillip to read it later when he finally comes out of hiding.

She stood up to head to Marina's room to mope. It almost seemed like she had taken Marina's place as the Romney Hall's living ghost. What was the point in living your life when the person you wanted to spend it with was gone?

But rising questions about Eloise's letter stopped her. For one, why was it addressed to Phillip rather than her? She knew it had been well over a decade, but had Eloise forgotten her already?

Her plan to mope for the day had been abandoned and she picked up Eloise's letter once again. She picked up the letter opener and impulsively ripped it open.

Sir Phillip Crane —

I am writing to express my condolences on the loss of your wife, my dear friend Marina, I remember her fondly and was deeply saddened to hear of her passing .

Please do not hesitate to write if there is anything I can do to ease your pain at this difficult time .

Yrs,

Miss Eloise Bridgerton

***

Oh. She was just as lovely as Paige remembered her. This was too kind of a letter to delay it's response. Paige went to her room and sat at her desk. She pulled out her stationary kit and fetched herself some parchment and a quill. She quickly penned down a response.

Dear Eloise —

I hope you remember me from your first season. Marina was a dear friend to me as well and I thank you for your kind note on behalf of Marina. It was thoughtful of you to write asking after us.

I offer you this flower attached as thanks. It is called an Eden rose also known as the Pierre de Ronsard, named after the great French poet.

Did you know that it reaches an average diameter of 10 centimetres. The large flowers are very full with 55 to 60 petals. Due to their weight the cupped, globular flowers tend to bow their heads.

It was Marina's favourite flower. She loved the carmine-pink on the inside and ivory on the outside. I hope you enjoy it as much as she did.

Sincerely -

*

She stopped short before she signed it off with her name. She had finally stepped out of her moment of impulsivity. Insanity more like, she thought to herself. She felt awful for invading Eloise and - by extension - Phillip's privacy.

She couldn't send this! How was she going to explain it?

*

Dear Miss Bridgerton —

I am absolutely mad and stole my brother's mail because I used to fancy you when we first debuted together in our first season.

Yours Sincerely, Paige Crane

That would certainly go over well. She would be lucky not to be locked up. She stared at her original letter and ripped it up. She detested the thought of Phillip striking up a friendship with Eloise. Deep down she knew if he became as enamoured with her as she once was, he'd make her his wife. It might have only been a month but she knew her brother. He needed a mother and wife for the children. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that he was already planning to look for one.

He had already taken Marina from her. As twins, they grew up sharing everything, starting from the womb. Everywhere Paige went, Phillip was there. They even had parallel careers. She just wanted this one person to herself. It was selfish she knew but she wanted to keep her London past for herself. Even if it meant never letting Phillip see the letter and responding on her own.

She rewrote another note without a second thought:

Dear Miss Bridgerton,

Thank you for your kind note on behalf of my wife. It was thoughtful of you to take the time to write to a gentleman you have never met. I offer you this full bloom flower as thanks.

It is called an Eden rose also known as the Pierre de Ronsard, named after the great French poet. Did you know that it reaches an average diameter of 10 centimetres. The large flowers are very full with 55 to 60 petals. Due to their weight the cupped, globular flowers tend to bow their heads.

It was Marina's favourite flower. She loved the carmine-pink on the inside and ivory on the outside. I hope you enjoy it as much as she did.

When it came to signing off, she hesitated for a moment at her dishonesty. Then the anger of having lost most of her life and identity to Phillip came up. That was motivation enough for her to scribble the last line of the letter:

Sincerely, Sir Phillip Crane.

***

Letter Correspondence From March 1823 to March 1824 Between Paige Crane & Eloise Bridgerton

Dear Sir Phillip -

Thank you so very much for the charming flower. It was such a lovely surprise when it came attached to the envelope. And such a precious memento of dear Marina, as well .

I could not help but notice your facility with the flower's scientific name and seemed to be knowledgeable about its properties. Are you a botanist?

Yours, Miss Eloise Bridgerton

*

Eloise’s response had come quite quickly in a week. It was no easy feat hiding the letters from Phillip. He was the Lord of the house after all. Paige was lucky enough to have a friend in Miles. She had been the one to stop Phillip from being let go. She had named him her personal assistant instead. She coyly asked Miles for a favour and requested that all of Eloise’s letters be directed to her. He looked at her with utter confusion when she asked.

“Whatever are you up to, Miss Crane?”

“Miles, you know you can call me Paige. We are friends, aren’t we?” She had a mischievous shine in her eye that told him she was up to something.

“I suppose… that doesn’t answer my question, Paige.” He said her name pointedly. She chuckled at him, he was hilarious. She knew she made the right choice keeping him employed.

“Friends trust each other. I promise I will tell you everything down the line.” She shot him a look of promise. That fixed the issue of being found out was solved easily. All she had to do now was enjoy the correspondence.

She still had not been able to break her habit of crying herself to sleep in Marina’s room every night, but these letters took her mind off the grief momentarily. She couldn’t thank Eloise Bridgerton enough for that. She read back Eloise’s response and grinned. Eloise was as charming and eloquent as always. She was clever enough to pick out Paige's interest in plants just by her rambles. Paige also noticed how Eloise was clever enough to end her letter with a question. What a sneaky lady, now Paige had to reply. Not that she was complaining. She was rather happy to have revived this old connection.

She pulled out her stationary and penned her reply. She stuck close to the truth while using Phillip's qualifications. Just because she wasn't allowed a formal education at Cambridge didn't make her any less knowledgeable than her twin. She devoured his textbooks during his University days. She most likely would have beat him to an honours degree in Botany had the fairer sex been allowed to study in Universities.

She followed Eloise's lead and ended her letter with a question as well. She vaguely remembered Eloise’s interest in humanities but she wanted it confirmed from the lady herself.

*

Dear Miss Bridgerton —

Indeed I am a botanist, trained at Cambridge, although I am not currently connected with any university or scientific board. I maintain my own garden at Romney Hall, in my greenhouse. Are you of a scientific bent as well?

Yours , Sir Phillip Crane

The reply came another week later. She smiled at being correct in her assumption. They started going back and forth every week, until a year had passed.

*

Dear Sir Phillip —

Heavens, no, I have not the scientific mind, I'm afraid, although I do have a fair head for sums. My interests lie more in the humanities; you may have noticed that I enjoy penning letters .

Yours in friendship,

Eloise Bridgerton

*

My dear Miss Bridgerton —

Ah, but it is a sort of friendship, isn't it? I confess to a certain measure of isolation here in the country, and if one cannot have a smiling face across one's breakfast table, then one might at least have an amiable letter, don't you agree?

I have enclosed another flower and a book for you. This flower is Centaurea cyanus, more commonly known as the cornflower. They are a personal favourite of mine, especially for its vibrance in colour. They are actually grown as a weed in cornfields, hence where it derives its common name from. Quite beautiful for a weed, wouldn’t you agree?

As for the book, I would like to share a piece of my literary heart with you. You will find a copy of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein in the package. I regard it as a brilliantly complex novel that tackles the existential questions of creating life in such an nuanced manner. I would love to hear your thoughts on it.

With great regard, Phillip Crane

*

Even though it was a friendly exchange of letters, Paige considered sharing her favourite flower and novel a way of elevating the friendship. They were a part of her identity. A part that she was willingly giving away to another to cherish and hold. It was a big step for her and that terrified her. She was scared of developing feelings for someone else. She could not bear to go through it again.

She knew no sane woman - despite being a child of Sappho - would give up the security of a husband and run off with another woman. Most of the sapphic women Paige knew were far too caught up in the social norms to ever step out of their comfort zone into a realm of possibilities of a free life with her. She knew she got lucky with Marina and that Phillip didn’t care enough for Marina to be bothered with their love affair. He also loved his sister enough to be happy with his wife, even if he didn’t understand how she could love a person who seemed to be made of sadness. Paige knew he never understood, but he didn’t have to. Marina and her understood each other and that’s all that truly mattered until the end.

While Eloise has never stated whether she felt that way about women, she did seem like a child of Sappho. The way she had interacted with potential suitors during that first season, or rather the way she didn’t. She hid away from every suitor that came her way. At times, she would pull Paige away to the lemonade table to avoid them, whenever Penelope was too busy dancing with Colin. The way she scoffed at marriage. She just seemed content in her independence. Paige had admired that about her.

*

As always her next letter did not disappoint:

Dear Sir Phillip —

Thank you for the book and flower, I truly appreciated them. I have always found sharing books recommendations with companions is like giving them a piece of yourself. So I thank you again, for gifting me a piece of yourself. I promise to cherish it.

And I have read Frankenstein before! It truly is one of its kind. I could go on for hours on end about how much I love this book and how brilliantly crafted it is. Perhaps, should we ever meet, we could discuss it over tea one day.

The cornflower was wonderful, thank you. I do love how it seems to shine a brighter blue in the sunlight. I think it might be my favourite flower as well.

Yours, Eloise Bridgerton.

A dreamy sigh escaped Paige’s lips as she drank in Eloise’s latest words. Paige had never felt more seen and understood. Eloise expressed the sentiment of Paige’s intent with the book and flower exactly. Paige might have used her brother’s name, but she knew in her heart Eloise knew her - even if it was not by her given name. She found the line about meeting and discussing the novel over tea, a rather bold choice. Was Eloise inviting her to tea?

She sighed when the sobering truth hit her. Eloise wasn’t inviting her. She was inviting her brother. She knew what she had to do - politely shut her down.

Dearest Miss Bridgerton —

You took the words right out of my quill. Those were my exact intentions when I thought of sending my favourite flower and book over to you. I am very much honoured that you cherish an important part of myself. I truly appreciate it. Truth be told, I appreciate you and our friendship.

Perhaps, one day. Tea does sound lovely.

What mischief have you been causing as of late? I am always excited to read your recounts of your daily adventures.

Yours as always, Phillip Crane. * Over the next few months simply flew by for Paige, the letters giving her a reprieve from her grief. They talked about anything and everything under the sun. She learned everything there is to know about Eloise Bridgerton. They exchanged childhood stories, more books between the two of them - Paige found out that Eloise’s guilty pleasure was Jane Austen’s romance novels - and held full conversations of various academic subjects. Her most prized possession was Eloise’s old copy of Persuasion filled with Eloise’s notes and thoughts on the book. Paige’s heart soared the moment she received it. It was Eloise’s version of giving Paige a piece of herself. She hadn’t read Persuasion before so she was glad for the recommendation. The botanist couldn’t help but laugh as she read the novel. Anne and Captain Wentworth’s story seemed to mirror hers. Their 7 year separation felt rather familiar to having not seen Eloise since their first season.

Before she knew it, a year had passed. She was startled when she saw the calendar on her desk when penning her latest letter to Eloise. 14th February 1824. It was the day Marina attempted to kill herself a year ago. Tomorrow would be a year since Marina’s last good day. And two days from now, on 17th February 1824, Paige would have to be met with the sobering reality of Marina’s death anniversary.

The holidays had been hard as it could be. The empty chair Marina had previously occupied was staring at Paige while her family carried on with their jovial Christmas dinner. She couldn’t understand how they could simply get on with their lives while she felt like a piece of her was missing. Yes, Marina was not much for festivities but sitting beside her and enjoying the food they cooked together was the highlight of Christmas. It was the only time Marina felt well enough to help Paige prepare the feast.

Marina’s birthday had been the hardest to deal with of course. She would have been twenty and eight then. Paige visits Marina's grave at least once a week. It calms and soothes her intense moments of grief. Sitting by the grave on Marina's birthday was a new kind of pain. Knowing that she was taken from the world far too early. Knowing that she should have been there right beside Paige. It was the hardest Paige had cried since Marina had died.

She had no idea how she was going to deal with her death anniversary.

She just knew she needed time to herself. She looked down at the letter she was going to write and found big splashes of tears all over the parchment.

"Blast it!" She cursed and crushed the paper, tossing it into a nearby bin. She was furious with herself for forgetting. For allowing herself to be happy when she didn’t deserve it. She wiped her tears angrily and quickly scribbled one last letter to Eloise.

Dear Miss Bridgerton —

These letters have brought me such comfort over a very difficult year. I cannot thank you enough for it, Eloise Bridgerton.

I do regret to inform you, I would like to pause these letters for the month. I require some time to process and mourn Marina's first death anniversary. I'm sure you can understand it will be a rather difficult time.

Thank you for understanding and do take care, Miss Bridgerton.

Yours, Phillip Crane

Paige could barely get through the letter without feeling guilty. Feeling guilty for abandoning Eloise so abruptly. Feeling guilty for using her as a distraction from her grief over Marina. Most of all, she hated how she can't seem to remember the smallest things about Marina. She was forgetting her love's memory and it was driving her mad. She tried her best to conjure up how she smelled, the sound of her voice, how she was. Paige found the little details escaping her. Memories slipping through her fingers. She detested this. She didn't know how she had gotten to this point.

She had allowed her corresponding flirtation with Eloise to soothe her pain. But her pain was the one thing she had left of Marina. Letting it go meant letting go of Marina. Paige absolutely refused to do that. If she forgot Marina, there was no one else to keep her memory alive. Phillip and the children certainly didn't care for it. Marina would be lost to history.

*

After delivering the letter to Miles to be mailed out, Paige found herself in Marina's room. She laid on her bed, aimlessly and feeling vacant. She was sure if someone walked in they might mistake her for Marina herself. Paige felt her melancholy creeping up her throat. It threatened to choke her, snuffing all the light out. She sat up and tried to breathe. She was feeling an unusual amount of panic rising within her.

She got out of bed and looked out the window. The lake was in perfect view. Of course, that’s where Marina had gotten the idea, She thought to herself bitterly. She looked up at the sky, imagining her lover was up there somewhere happier. Somewhere calmer, where she had found peace.

“I’m right where you left me, Rina.” She whispered softly. It had been a while since she spoke out loud to Marina but it had brought her so much comfort in the early days of dealing with the grief. For a moment, she could pretend Marina was still there. Then she didn’t have to deal with the all consuming guilt and loneliness that came with losing the love of her life.

Marina might have been the one who died but Paige felt like the ghost. Spending most of her days in Marina's room, sitting still in a corner, almost like she was the one haunting it. She heard what the staff said. Something along the lines of, "What a pitiful sight." And "She deserves better than to replace Lady Marina's disposition." They were valid in their concerns but Paige couldn't care less. This was the way she knew how to grieve and mourn and she'll be damned before she lets anyone dictate the way she feels.

Looking into the reflection of the lake from the window, she could still remember the day Marina walked into the lake. It was terrifying how crystal clear the memory was. It felt like she was frozen in time - forever cursed to be twenty and seven - forced to relive the last few days of Marina's days. The memory of her walking into the lake, Paige having to rescue her, staying by her side the next three days and the moment she died. They swirled around Paige's mind constantly. It was particularly worse since it had been a year.

She was paralysed, unable to find the will to do anything else. So she went back to bed. She sat there, silent and frozen in time. The servants walked past all day to ask her if she was alright. She barely managed a nod.

She swore she could hear a hair pin drop at how silent everything was. Deep down she knew her life stopped the moment Marina had died. Eloise's letters may have made her feel like she could move forward. However, the gaping hole in her heart today proved otherwise.

Everybody moved on. She couldn't. So she settled and stayed there, dust collecting on her pinned-up hair. She knew everyone expected her to find a new purpose or a fresh start. She could have tended to her own garden like Phillip was doing in his Greenhouse on this day.

Yet all she found the energy to do was sit and stare out at the lake. She stayed right there for the next two days. She just wanted the next worst few days of her life to pass her by so she would not have to deal with them. Just until the 17th had passed.

*

Of course as the saying goes, there is no rest for the wicked. All Paige wanted on the 17th of February was some peace but little did she know, a certain Bridgerton would be making their way to Romney Hall.

It started out like any other day. Except for the Crane household, there was a somber remembrance of Marina’s first death anniversary. Paige was relieved that she didn’t have to share the burden alone and that her brother had the decency to acknowledge it. He didn’t bother reminding the children but they were young so she let it slide.

Since the staff had honoured her request of being left alone, around noon Paige dragged herself out of bed to get herself some lunch. Marina would have wanted her to mourn respectfully, not join her up wherever she may be. Paige was on her way back to her room after picking up her meal of roasted mutton with rice and gravy - Marina’s favourite dish - when she overheard a curious conversation between Gunning and her brother.

"Sir Phillip," Gunning said, clearing his throat. "We have a caller." "A caller?" Phillip echoed. "Was that the source of the, ah..." "Noise?" Gunning supplied helpfully. "Yes." "No." The butler cleared his throat. "That would have been your children." "I see," Phillip murmured. "How silly of me to have hoped otherwise." "I don't believe they broke anything, sir." "That's a relief and a change." "Indeed, sir, but there is the caller to consider."

Phillip groaned and Paige immediately knew what he was thinking. Romney Hall hadn’t received callers in years. He was probably wondering who on earth would be calling on this day of all days. Paige didn’t think much of it until she passed the front door on her way up to her room when she spotted a familiar face on the other side of the door.

Eloise Bridgerton.

What in the devil was she doing here?! Paige mentally screamed to herself. Gunning and Phillip’s conversation had faded to the background, drowned out by the mental grind of Paige’s mind. She snapped out of her melancholy and had to come up with a way to cover up the consequences of her actions. Just when she needed it, Miles walked past her. She immediately grabbed him. He looked surprised and a little violated if you asked him.

“Miss Crane! What on earth?” “Miles, how many times must I repeat myself? Paige is perfectly fine. I apologise for grabbing you, I am in need of your service.” She said guiltily, looking over at the front door.

He gave her a curious look, “What did you do now, Paige?” He rubbed his eyes tiredly.

She shot him a glare, “I would snap at you for that but you are quite right to ask. I think one of my letters to Miss Bridgerton might have been misinterpreted as an invitation to come over to Romney Hall.” She gave him such a pitiful pleading look, he had to help her.

“How can I be of service, Miss - Paige?” He corrected himself the moment Paige shot him a murderous look. “I need a plan. If the truth comes out, neither of them will forgive me.”

Miles had never seen her so panicked and scared before. For someone who detests her brother, she really did love him. Her blooming feelings for Miss Bridgerton had become apparent over the last few months. He gave himself a moment to think of a plan.

"Yes, sir. She's here to see you, after all." They both heard Gunning say to Phillip.

Paige looked at Miles with wide eyes. They had officially run out of time. This was sealed by the sounds of Phillip’s footsteps making their way to the corridor Paige and Miles were hatching a plan in. Before Paige could push Miles to distract him, her dear brother had brushed past them and opened the door. She cursed to herself and watched helplessly as the two strangers who had technically never met interacted. She made her way to stand quietly behind her brother, listening to every word. Paige's heart nearly stopped when she heard Eloise's voice after all these years.

"Sir Phillip?"

[viscountessevie]

Tamil Lessons 101 with Kate Sharma

A/N: Hello everyone! So this stemmed from a head canon I was discussing with my dear friend Molly @newtonsheffield and she actually inspired me to start writing more Bridgerton content! I also got input from the lovely @viscountess-sharma who suggested Edwina and Kate conversing in Tamil so I had to do it! [Sorry it took so long! The dinner scene went on longer than I had originally planned in mind ehehe]

I also was inspired to have Kate give Anthony lessons by this interracial tiktok couple (Giselle & Boyd) where the basic white boyfriend learnt Spanish so he could communicate with his Hispanic gf's mom - its very sweet. Taglist:@sassynach @hella-sirius (Thank you so much for your support on the Kate & Thomas ficlet yall!) Happy reading everyone! (Side note: all translations are in italics right after the Tamil phrases are written out)

***

The first time Anthony heard Kate speak in Tamil caught him off guard. Intellectually, he knew she had to be bilingual. Yes, she was an Englishwoman through and through but he knew of other 3rd generation immigrant friends who still spoke their native language to communicate with their grandparents. He assumed Kate was no different. It was still jarring to hear her slip into a completely different accent when she spoke Tamil.

He didn't understand a word of it and quite frankly, it initially sounded like a string of gibberish to him. But from the way Kate was looking at him with an irritated look, and how Edwina and her exploded with laughter after she had said her piece, he kind of guessed it was a jab at him. He shook his head to himself. She couldn't even insult him to his face in their common language.

*** It's common known fact amongst Indians - or rather any person of colour - that shading and gossiping about people you hate was much more entertaining in your native tongue. Especially when you could share it with someone from your own community. It was even more satisfying to know it was kept between you and your confidant. That even if the person you were talking about stood in front of you, they would never know.

Case In Point: Anthony Bridgerton.

It was just one of those frustratingly long days and the last person Kate had wanted to see was Anthony. Edwina, Kate and Anthony were in the office kitchen. Edwina and Kate were in their own little world, catching up on life. It was one of those days they wanted to polish on speaking Tamil seeing that Mary's parents would be visiting during the upcoming weekend. They always complained Kate never spoke enough Tamil. Since Edwina aced Tamil Literature in her A-Levels, she was Kate's best bet at improving on her native tongue.

Anthony started to curse out of nowhere, glaring the stove before him. He kept turning the knobs of the gas and was confused when the stove didn't light up. It got to the point where he left the gas on too long and the awful odour started to fill the room. Edwina snapped out of their little language bubble and looked at Anthony confused, "Anthony, what in the world are you trying to do?"

"எரிவாயு கசிவால் அவர் நம்மைக் கொல்லப் போகிறார்!" He's probably going to kill us all with a gas leak! Kate snorted under her breath sarcastically, just loud enough that Edwina would hear. She rolled her eyes at him when he was busy looking at the stove with exasperation. Edwina hit her sister lightly before going to help Anthony. "Um...Anthony, this isn't one of those self-lighting stoves you're probably used to." She said awkwardly, pulling out the lighter from the drawer. She was kind of surprised he didn't know his way around the office kitchen by now. Once she passed him the lighter, she turned to return to her seat when he called out to her again.

"Errr... Sorry to bother you Edwina but how do you light it?" He asked earnestly even though he felt extremely uncomfortable asking. He knew how dumb and ridiculously privileged he sounded. He knew what Kate was thinking now, that he never cooked a meal in his life and didn't how to light a stove.

....Well he wasn't too far off. The moment he asked Edwina that, Kate simply looked over at her sister with a deadpan look.

In her most exasperation tone of voice, she declared to her sister, "கடவுளே, இந்த முட்டாள் ஒரு அடுப்பைக் கூட ஏற்ற முடியாது!" Oh dear Lord, this idiot can't even light a stove!

Usually Edwina wouldn't have laughed but the theatrical way Kate had said it, made her burst out laughing. Usually Kate tried to hide her gossiping in Tamil but she just couldn't help but look over at Anthony. She fixed with him with a judgemental stare. Seriously what kind of idiot didn't know how to light a stove in this day and age??

***

It took him a week to realise they were probably laughing at his inability to light the stove. Years later into their relationship, Kate indeed confirmed it. When recounting the memory from her side, Anthony couldn't help but admire how her lips moved to form the words in Tamil. She had never looked more beautiful and the words that came out were so poetic - even if he didn't understand a lick of it and knew it was used to insult him years ago.

Something about the way she spoke made him eager to learn the language. When she repeated the line about calling him an idiot, he listened carefully to catch any word he could. He tried to copy the first word of her sentence.

"Ka-da-wel-la?" Anthony over-pronounced every syllable, used several wrong vowels and completely butchered the word. Even he could hear how terrible his pronunciation sounded and he scrunched up his nose in disgust.

Kate stopped in her tracks, cutting herself from recounting the story. Her looks at him with deep frown lines, slightly cringing at what he just said.

"Anthony darling..." Her tone started gentle, conveying that she appreciated the effort before turning to tease him in true Kate fashion, "were you trying to say the word, கடவுளே (Kaṭavuḷē)? Because you quite literally just took the Lord's name in vain and butchered it." She let out a soft giggle.

He wasn't one to be bashful but when Kate giggled, he turned red. "I just want to learn the basics and be a part of your world." "Aww, that's very sweet of you." She kissed his cheek, appreciating his sentiment. "Maybe taking the Lord's name in vain isn't the best place to start."

They spent the rest of the afternoon going over the basic sentences. If Anthony eventually wanted to go more in depth in the future, Kate offered to even teach him the Tamil lexicon and how to read and write them. Although she highly doubt it would get to that point. Speaking it was hard enough and even she had trouble writing and reading it in boarding school.

By the end of it, Anthony could introduce himself in Tamil. No stammering, hesitations or mispronunciations. Although his English accent did get in the way, making it awkward as Asian languages do when white people attempt to speak it.

"என் பெயர் அந்தோணி." My name is Anthony. He said quite clearly. He gasped once he realised he got it.

"I did it!" He was smiling so much, he reminded Kate of a little boy who had just passed his first test or something. She gave him a little cheer and hugged him happily.

As bonus, she even taught him how to write his name in Tamil: அந்தோணி. He was proud to be able to pen down his name in another language. In her language. He had never felt more close to her. He loved signing it in Tamil so much, he started to leave her notes before work and always signing them as அந்தோணி.

***

The Tamil lessons had been going on for a few months and Anthony feeling was confident in his knowledge that he was ready to showcase it at the next Sunday dinner with the Sharmas.

Unbeknownst to him, he was in for a rude awakening.

What Anthony hadn't quite grasped was the difference between formal Tamil and conversational Tamil - which was the furthest thing from Duolingo had been teaching him. He would have gladly taken lessons from Kate but they were going quite slowly and she had a career and life outside of him. He knew he couldn't put that on her. She was his girlfriend, not his Tamil tutor after all. So he had took it upon himself to do some independent learning on the app. He listened to it anywhere he could, mostly during his commutes to work. He was even practicing on greeting Edwina and Mary as he walked up to the Sharma household.

"வணக்கம், அம்மா! வணக்கம், தங்கை!" Hello, mother! Hello, sister! He kept repeating it to himself over and over. He was looking forward to showcase his new skill to them. He knocked on Mary's door excitedly, grinning at the peep hole.

Mary opened the door, greeting him with a warm smile. She immediately noticed his wide grin and matched it, "Hello, Anthony. Come in, come in." She stepped aside allowing him in.

Once he entered the threshold, he blurted it out happily to Mary: "வணக்கம், அம்மா!" Hello, Mother! Mary was taken aback by his sudden burst of Tamil. She didn't even knew he spoke. Yes, he was a little awkward and clumsy with the accent, but she definitely appreciated his effort and sentiment. "That was quite good, Anthony." She smiled at him encouragingly. "நன்றி, மேரி!" Thank you, Mary! He chirped, merrily. He was so happy and proud of himself, it was rather unnerving and endearing at the same time. She just smiled and politely headed of to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner.

Edwina then came out of her room, looking down at her phone checking her emails. She looked up briefly and greeted Anthony, "Hey Anthony!" She said in her usual cheery disposition. Here was poor Edwina who thought it was their usual Sunday brunch, which did not prepare for the greeting she received next.

"வணக்கம், தங்கை!" Hello, sister! Anthony matched her tone and Edwina's neck snapped up so fast, she felt it crack. She looked at Anthony incredulously.

"Anthony, with all due respect, what the fuck?" "Edwina, language!" Mary calls out from the kitchens.

"Ma, I said respectfully!" She yells back, sighing. She gestured to Anthony to sit at the dining table while they waited for Kate to get back from her meeting that ran late. Anthony offered to pick her up but she insisted he head over first. It did give him the opportunity to test out his new lessons without Kate dragging him for it.

Edwina looks at him strangely, trying to reconcile with what she had heard come out of his mouth. The English accent definitely got in the way and minced his words.

"Okay so...that was an experience. First of all don't say தங்கை (thangi). It's far too formal, even Kate doesn't call me that! Honourifics are usually reserved for people older than us so I call Kate அக்கா (Akka/Older sister) sometimes and my mum Ma or அம்மா (Amma/Mother)."

He nods slowly, trying to absorb what she was saying. He made a mental note, clocking in the words for older sister and mother. "So how would you prefer me to call you?" "I rather you wouldn't, it's just weird hearing you talk in Tamil." She chuckled cheekily, an attempt to joke. Of course, Mary overheard as she set the briyani rice on the table and frowned at her daughter.

"Edwina, be nice! You're doing great, sweetie." She smiles at Anthony.

"Ma! I was just joking. And I'm teaching him to improve." Edwina defends herself. Mary shoots her daughter a suspicious look before heading back to the kitchen to grab the mutton curry.

"Anyways as I was saying, I appreciate the sentiment it's cute and I love being like a little sister to you. That being said, தங்கச்சி (thangachi), it's the more informal version of தங்கை (thangi). Yes, they both mean sister but the difference between the formal and informal really makes or break the conversational aspect of speaking Tamil. Do you get it?" In true Edwina fashion, she info dumped the logistical linguistics of the Tamil language. Kate walked up to them before he could reply. She took her seat next to him and kissed his cheek in greeting. "Hi, honey. Edwina, why are you out of breath?" She looked over at her sister who was panting softly.

"She just info dumped on me as usual." Anthony said in jest, "Turns out your sister is quite the Tamil tutor." "Oh Anthony, you flatter me. I was just explaining the basic differences between formal and informal Tamil." She waves it off casually while explaining to Kate what had gone down.

Mary brings over the rest of the sauces for the dish: dhai chutney, raita and korma, and joins them for dinner.

"His Tamil is quite good, Kate, you're quite the teacher." Kate just frowns a little, "I've only taught him a few basic words." She turns to Anthony with a confused expression. He waves his phone at her, with his Duolingo app open.

"Duolingo is a blessing, if I say so myself."

Edwina bursts out laughing, "No wonder, you were learning formal Tamil. They teach it the way we write. Speaking is a whole sub language." She explains as a matter of factly. Anthony nods, listening intently as he piles on the rice and mutton curry onto his plate. He quickly dashes to the kitchen to wash his hands and comes back to the Sharma women casually conversing in Tamil.

He digs into his meal with his right hand like they do. Kate immediately falls even more in love with him. It was the little things that did it for her after all these years. Him trying to learn her native language and eating by hand like her family does. Sh really appreciated all these little efforts to better integrate himself into her way of life and culture. She found it to be the most romantic thing anyone's ever done for her.

However, it wasn't long before the dinner descended into linguistic chaos that all Asian families were familiar with.

The conversation started easy enough for Anthony to follow with context clues and how mild their tones were when asking about their various relatives' current lives and status. He also figured they were speaking more slowly to accommodate him which he will forever be grateful for.

Then Mary seemed to have said something about a Nalini aunty and Kate blew up. The words were flying everywhere and it became a mess of English and Tamil that Anthony couldn't quite follow. He just watched the three women going back and forth, rapidly speaking Tamil. Even though, he didn't understand a lick of it and someone else in his position would have felt excluded, Anthony was mesmerised. He didn't have to understand to see how passionate his girlfriend was. How Edwina was clearly having the life of her life poking fun at whatever Mary said that set Kate off. How Mary was trying to calm the table down but also couldn't help but smile at Edwina's jabs.

Finally Kate burst out, "Well you can tell Nalini aunty that when I'm getting married is none of her damn business!"

That, Anthony understood very well and was drinking from his glass of water when she said that and started to choke. Immediately all three women turned to him, remembering he was there. He coughed and calmed himself down before starting to blush at all the attention and mention of marriage.

Before they could apologise for leaving him out, he just cracked an amused smile and assured them it was okay. "That was the most interesting conversation I've ever witnessed, and this Nalini aunty sounds like quite the character." He said in jest, trying to ease Kate's temper.

"You have no idea, darling." Kate scoffed. Mary shot her a look that said to be respectful and Kate dropped it soon enough. Anthony would have liked to say the dinner went peacefully without a hitch after that but it was just more of the marriage conversation in English this time.

He slipped his hand into Kate's and squeezed it reassuringly, "You know you don't have to feel pressured. We'll get there when we get there." He smiled at her and kissed her cheek.

*** More years later after they had finally gotten married and settled into the newlywed life, Kate and Anthony were soon blessed with their very own bundle of joy. Edmund. They named him after his paternal grandfather.

"You know darling, you don't have to master Tamil, all you need to do is be this little angel's அப்பா (Appa/Father)." She says softly to her husband as she caresses Baby Edmund's cheek.

" அப்பா, I can do that. Hey little guy, I'm your அப்பா." He beams proudly, cooing at his son.

[newtonsheffield]

I love reading about weekend brunches at Kathony. Anthony being domestic is next level. Does Kate cook? Since Kate is South Indian, do you see them share their culture, cook together or anything like that?

I just wanna be invited to Kate and Anthony’s for brunch. It seems like a good time, but maybe I just like the idea of Anthony in an apron. Sue me! 

Kate does cook! And She’s pretty good in the kitchen actually, But Anthony loves to cook for her, for their family when it comes along, and Anthony Bridgerton in an apron is a sight that she finds herself unable to resist. (I would like to preface this by saying, as a basic white girl I am obviously not an expert on southern asian culture)

Sunday had always been a very important day in the Sheffield residence. For as long as Kate remembered her father had spent the entire day, dicing vegetables, simmering spices, until the entire house was filled with smells and their table overflowing. Laughter had rung through the house, and music had echoed, and they’d always spent the entire day together. Mary and her father dancing together in the kitchen while Kate’s legs dangled from the kitchen counter, and then Edwina followed and they had been such a happy family. The happiest really. 

The first Sunday after Thomas Sheffield had died they’d all woken up to a quiet house, and Kate’s chest had ached. She’d bit her lip until she’d tasted blood to stop herself from crying as she’d walked down the stairs. She’d found Mary in the kitchen, staring at the stove despondently, Edwina was still upstairs, and Kate had sat down beside Mary silently, placing her arms around her step mother. Mary startled a little at the touch though sunk into her arms for several moments before letting out a shuddering breath and standing from the table. I can’t do everything your Dad did Katie, but I can make you those pancakes you like. And Kate’s heart had felt a little lighter for just a moment when Mary had dropped a plate in front of her, 3 pancakes stacked high with choc chips in the shape of a smiley face. And she ate them every Sunday from now on.  

Anthony Bridgerton had come home the Saturday after he and Kate officially lived together to find his home filled with music, laughter bouncing off the walls in the kitchen, exotic spices filling the air. And made his way towards the kitchen curiously, Kate had shared little parts of her culture with him in the months since their relationship started and nothing gave him more joy than to see Kate happily embrace all the parts of herself. Anthony entered the kitchen to find the stove overflowing with pots and pans, Edwina and Kate laughing happily preparing impossibly more food, than the ones already filling the table. His heart leapt at the sight of Kate so happy. Her eyes lit up when she saw him Anthony! You’re home! She called wrapping her arms around him tightly momentarily before grabbing a plate and spooning mounds and mounds of food on his plate and forcing him down into the stool beside Edwina. Anthony looked questioningly at Edwina who smiled nodding to the plate Eat. She’s quite good. Our dad did this every Sunday, and it was the best. Kate nods happily for a second before saying Eddie and I do it every month, usually Mary joins us but she’s busy today. Eat Anthony, or you’ll miss dessert! Anthony smiled happily taking up a large spoonful of something Kate pronounced effortlessly, but both she and Edwina laughed at his bungled attempt to parrot it. Is it Spicy? He said a little warily. Kate frowned again I don’t think so Anthony spooned it into his mouth eagerly and was immediately overwhelmed by how good it was. How incredible his girlfriend was. And seconds later choked a little as his mouth was on fire, tears in his eyes. Kate laughed, Oh Honey! Don’t worry! You’ll get used to it!  And by the time Edmund is born the third Saturday of the month is his favourite day, as he dances with his wife in the kitchen.    

[allkinds-oftrash]

Molly I love this so much and it inspired me to write a little thing! I hope you don't mind me hijacking this post to expand a little on the first paragraph!

(So this is based off my own experience growing up cooking with my dad)

***

Thaman 'Thomas' Sharma was a somewhat a celebrity chef in league with the Gordon Ramseys and Jamie Olivers of the world. Except instead of being world renowned like his counterparts he was more than happy to be known in London.

He liked spending most days cooking up various dishes for his restaurant patrons, but his true joy stemmed from cooking for his family every chance he could. He would usually cook a dish for the family in the early morning to be reheated for lunch and dinner before heading off to work.

But he used his off days to make it a whole spectacle. Hence Cooking with Dad Sundays became a thing in the Sharma household.

Kate absolutely loved cooking with her dad every Sunday for as long as she could remember. Her favourite memory was when she was about 4 years old and she sat on her father's lap, begging him to go through the spice pantry together.

They made a game out of it, Kate would pick out a bottle of a specific spice and Thomas would name it for her in Tamil and she had to guess/remember the English name for it.

"What's this? ஏலக்காய் (Ēlakkāy)" He asked, placing the green pod in her hand. She played with it, trying to remember it's English name. Then it popped into her head: "Cardamom!"

She clapped excited when her father rewarded her with a piece of candy for it.

"கிராம்பு (Kirāmpu)?"

"Clove!"

***

கருமிளகு (Karumiḷaku) | Black pepper

சீரகம் (Cīrakam) | Cumin

மஞ்சள் தூள் (Mañjaḷ tūḷ) | Turmeric

கொத்தமல்லி (Kottamalli) | Coriander

சோம்பு (Cōmpu) | Anise

இலவங்கப்பட்டை (Ilavaṅkappaṭṭai) | Cinnamon

They continued all afternoon until she had gotten everything in the pantry. And that's how to this day, Kate Sharma knew all her spices by heart both in English and Tamil. She also knew every Queen song by heart since Thomas Sharma was very much a man of the 70s.

When he died, she found his receipe book but realised she didn't need them because he always walked her through every step of cooking the dishes. She did keep the book around as a memento and to pass it down to her own children one day.

He may no longer be alive but she was determined to keep the memory of Sundays with him alive.

****

Years later, she found herself sitting at the same spice pantry, pointing out spices to little 5 year old Edmund and telling him their names in Tamil.

[allkinds-oftrash]

To Lady Paige, With Love

A/N: Hello everyone! This is my first time writing for Bridgerton and Regency in general so hopefully it's not too OOC and modernized but do let me know if you have tips to make the writing style seem more regency-like.

Pairing: Eloise Bridgerton x FemOC! Paige Crane

Anyways this came to me as an idea because I just could not stand Phillip in the original To Sir Phillip, With Love and big thanks to @ladiesofwinterfell whose Phillip posts only fuelled my need for a new version of TSPWL. So I wanted to try my hand at writing a genderbent version of him who softer and kinder in her approach when with Marina. Instead, I somehow made a completely new character who happens to be his twin sister Paige. I tried my best to follow the book very closely with of course changes to the point of view and how Marina is treated by Paige. Another thing to note is that I used a mix of the show (especially when crafting Marina's backstory it's straight out of S1) and book's background of the characters.

I'm going to stop babbling now, and happy reading everyone!

Content & Trigger Warnings: Mentions/Descriptions of (Postpartum) Depression, Implied Child Neglect, Suicide Ideation, Suicide Attempt, Teen Pregnancy (?? I dunno if this needed to be tagged as tw but Imma add it anyways), Death and Grief.

**** Prologue: Take Me To The Lakes [14th February 1823]

It shouldn’t have been a sunny day. It was far too beautiful of a day for a tragedy to occur.

A tragedy on Valentine’s Day, it was almost laughable.

Paige had asked the servants to open up Marina’s curtains. She knew the sunlight would do her some good. While waiting for the kitchen staff to prepare a delightful breakfast of pancakes - Marina’s favourite - she decided to check on her flowers. She had grown a lovely patch of Eden roses, specially for her best friend.

Ever since her brother Phillip and her were children, they were enamoured with botany. Phil, of course, immersed himself in the science of it. Paige preferred simple gardening. If she needed information on more complex maintenance of their plants, she knew where to find his textbooks. Over the years, Paige had developed a thumb as green as her brother’s. While Philip used botany as an escape, Paige used it as a way to connect. It was the very same type of roses that helped Paige find her way to Marina.

September 1812

Marina Thompson was a sight to behold. Her corkscrew curls were half pinned up, allowing the bottom wave of curls to be free. Paige couldn’t help but be mesmerised at how well suited her hairstyle was. Marina had a side part, almost covering the left side of her face. She donned the most simple of peach day dresses. Yet to the Crane girl, it seemed to be the most beautiful piece of garment she could have worn. To this day, Paige swears she heard music swell around her the moment she saw Marina bent over, smelling the rose bush.

She takes a deep breath. It helped ground her to muster the confidence to approach the beautiful stranger. The Crane twins have always been shy and reserved. It had done nothing good for them. She was tired of letting life pass her by. Philip could hide in the bushes for all she cared. Today, Paige decided to make a choice. A choice that could potentially bring her happiness. She was going to talk to the girl who made her heart sing.

Taking baby steps, she finally reaches Marina and gives her an awkward smile. When she needed it most, words seemed to fail her. Marina felt Paige’s presence hovering and looked up. She smiled kindly at her and handed over a rose she had plucked. Paige looked down at the rose, in a slight panic. She was rooted to the ground, unable to say or move.

“Good evening, Miss…?” Marina kept her eyes trained on Paige. She trailed her greeting off, hoping to get a name. Paige immediately fell for the warmth in her eyes. She felt safe. That definitely helped to ease her up.

“Crane. Paige Crane.” She cleared her throat awkwardly before introducing herself. She takes the rose from Marina and the two girls shake hands. All Paige could think about was how warm and soft her hand felt. Struggling to say more, she turned her focus to the rose. She twirled it around in her fingers and looked at her companion.

“These are Eden roses, also known as Rosa ‘Pierre De Ronsard’ named after the French poet. However, it was far too pretentious of a name for those out of the French border. So it was renamed Eden Climber to convey the idea of paradise was created by the exceptional beauty of this rose.” She was acutely aware she was rambling. It was the way Marina was watching her intently that brought her comfort. Marina gave her a cheeky smile when she was done with the fun fact.

“An exceptionally beautiful rose for an exceptional beauty.” Marina gestured to Paige. The botanist’s cheeks started to turn as pink as the rose.

“Eden roses from the girl who seemed to have fallen from Eden.” She thought to herself...until she heard Marina chuckle. Paige stared at her, horrified. “I thought out loud, didn’t I?”

Marina nodded, laughing with her whole body now. If Paige could have bottled the sound, she would. Marina grinned at Paige as she looped her arm through hers.

“Don’t be embarrassed. That was a lovely compliment. I think we're going to be wonderful friends, Paige Crane.”

They have been inseparable since.

***

With Phillip away on business for the week, Paige made sure to spend extra time with Marina. She carefully cut the stems of the roses to make a small bouquet. She tied them together and brought them straight to the kitchen. She placed the roses by the pancake plate. She picked up the tray and made her way to Marina's room. She balanced the tray on one hand and knocked with the other as she crossed the threshold.

"Marina, are you awake, love?" Paige asked gently. She stepped closer to her and held out the roses. "I brought you your favourite roses too, Eden Climbers. An exceptional beauty for an exceptional beauty." She echoed the line from their first meeting.

It was love at first sight. She remembered how much fun they had together. Oh where had the time gone? She frowned when she noticed the curtains were shut again. She set down the breakfast tray by her nightstand before making herself comfortable next to Marina lying down.

"If you could walk to shut the curtains, you can sit up to have some breakfast. I had the chef make your favourite." Paige attempted to waft the smell of pancakes in the direction of her companion. Marina simply turned away and stared out at the window. Paige reached out to gently stroke her hair.

Marina had her good and bad days come and go. Paige knew she had to give her space and let her heal on her own. It had been 7 years….this was definitely more serious than postpartum. She was sure of it. Paige gave her a few more minutes before digging into the breakfast herself.

"Rina, I will finish all of the pancakes if you don't come get some!" Paige attempted to sound threatening but her meek voice did her no favours. She caught a silver of a smile on Marina's face. That was all she needed that day. They just had to get through this one moment at a time.

"I saw that, love. Would it be easier if I fed you?"

Marina managed a small nod. She detested feeling like this. Like she was constantly drowning. If everyone thought they couldn't understand why she was this way, she hadn't had the foggiest idea either. Most of all, she hated how it affected Paige. Marina knew she didn't deserve this. Paige deserved a whole person not the shell of a woman she had become. She let out a soft sight and did her utmost best to sit up slightly so they wouldn't get syrup all over the sheets.

Slowly and surely, one bite at a time, Marina finished a full pancake by herself. Paige beamed at her proudly after she was done. Marina took the moment to relish in her smile. Paige always made everything better. Marina might have been depressed but she was no fool. She knew what Phillip thought of her. Even if she spent most days unable to leave her bed, she saw the way he looked at her. Like she was a fragile, broken melancholic thing. He didn't see the person underneath. He only saw the shell. Paige… She knew Marina before the twins came along. She knew the true Marina. The one who laughed and smiled and had known joy. The Marina Thompson that loved Paige Crane with all her heart. That should be reason enough to work hard to recover. To retain who she once was. Paige should be enough.

The botanist saw her companion's vacant eyes and knew she was gone for the day. Paige smiled at her comfortingly. "I ought to check on the children. I shall leave you to rest, dearest. Do ring the bell should you need anything at all." She pressed a soft kiss against her forehead before taking her leave.

As she stepped out looking for the children, Miles directed her to Phillip's greenhouse. The children loved to make mischief there when their father wasn't there. She popped her head into the Greenhouse.

"Amanda! Oliver!" She said sharply to startle them. Seeing them jump out of their bones, she couldn't help but laugh. The twins turned to her and frowned.

"Aunt Paige, that's not funny!" They pouted at her. She snorted.

"Well it was pretty funny when you did it to me yesterday. I'm simply returning the favour, my dears." She chuckled, pulling them into her embrace.

Just as she was about to suggest playing hide and seek by the lake, Amanda squeals. "Mother!" She pointed behind Paige. Paige simply blinked at her niece before slowly turning around.

Marina? It couldn't be. She caught sight of a flash of red. Red. Paige smiled to herself as she shook her head. It must be her. Red was her favourite colour. Marina always said she liked it because it was a strong colour and it made her feel strong.

Paige was filled with joy. Marina had finally gotten the strength to step out. She grabs the children's hands to bring them over to their mother. It would do them good to spend time together outside of her room. The trio was halfway across the field when Paige worked out exactly why Marina had come out. The horrifying epiphany clicked when she saw Marina slip rocks into the pockets of her dress. She immediately turned to the children. They did not have to witness this.

“Children, I need you to do me a favour.” She put on her most calming smile. She kept looking back at Marina to see how far she was away from the lake. “Could you be dears and please fetch Miles for me? Then I need you to go and play in your room. Your mother and I need to speak privately.”

“Why is she walking to the lake?” Amanda questioned. Paige tried to keep her composure. If the children kept questioning, she wouldn’t be able to reach Marina in time.

“I will explain later, please get Miles. It’s urgent.” Paige sent them off running while she sprinted in the other direction the moment they were out of sight.

“MARINA, STOP!” She bellowed at her best friend. She skidded across the field and fell face flat just yards away from the lake. Marina was completely oblivious, submerging herself into the depths of the lake. It was just her and the magnetic pull of the lake. It was like Paige wasn’t even there. She quickly recovered. She didn’t waste time undressing and dove straight into the icy waters to rescue Marina. She’ll be damned if she was going to let the love of her life go without a fight.

She couldn’t find her. Marina had dropped off to the deep end and Paige felt like she couldn’t breathe. She could never forgive herself if Marina succeeded. A glimmer of hope shone through when she caught sight of Marina’s ruby red cloak floating to the surface. Before it could get sucked into the depths of the lake, Paige screamed Marina’s name one last time as an attempt to snap her out of it. Of course, Marina couldn’t hear her. Paige set her sight on the flash of red and swam to it.

Paige did the math; Marina had been under barely a minute. It was probably not enough time to drown, but every second it took her to find Marina was one second toward her death.

She remembered swimming in the lakes with Phillip when they were children countless times. While he still swam and knew the lake better than she did. She had a vague idea where the bottom dropped off. She felt relief when she quickly found the critical point with swift, even strokes. The main obstacle was her dress working against the drag of the water, slowly her down. She cursed, not having stripped before she went in. She did her best to overcome it. Saving Marina was far too important.

She told herself she could find her. She had to find her. Before it was too late.

She found herself diving further down the murky waters. She struggled to keep her eyes open with some of the sand from the bottom swirling around her. Marina must have kicked it up as she went down. The opaque clouds of sand were making it difficult to see. Eventually, relief washed over Paige again when she spotted Marina’s red dress.

She didn’t hesitate to shoot through the waters, down to the bottom where she saw the red of her cloak floating through the water. Paige felt her heart rate slow down the moment Marina was in her arms. While they were both petite women, Paige did struggle initially to swim up with Marina. Slowly but surely, she forged their way to the surface. Once she had pulled her onto the grassy knoll of the meadow, she had already lost consciousness and was nothing more than a dead weight in Paige’s arms. She took a moment to take big gasps to fill her aching lungs once again. She made sure she was okay herself before turning to save Marina.

Paige tried shaking her awake, rather violently to get the water out of Marina’s system. Just as she started chest compressions, Miles came running over.

“What happened?”

“She...fell in.” She didn’t even look up at him. She hated how her voice trembled as she said that out loud. She couldn’t bring herself to admit that Marina had gone in on purpose. Marina had chosen to leave her. She knew melancholy was hard on her love but she refused to think about it presently. She was too busy trying to revive her. When the chest compressions felt like a failed task, Paige turned to mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. She blew the air into her mouth, hoping the water would come up her throat.

“Marina, please.” Paige pleaded as she finished her set of resuscitation. All she could do was wait. She finally turned to look at Miles, “Miles darling, could you help me send someone to fetch the doctor.” She requested, exhaustion clear in her voice. He nodded swiftly and set on his task. Just as he turned to head to Romney Hall, Marina coughed up the water and started gasping for air. Paige gasped and squealed in surprise, launching herself into Marina’s arms. She called Miles back to help her guide Marina back home.

“You came back to me.” She whispered with relief, starting to softly sob against Marina’s chest. Marina was tired and she could barely keep her eyes open. Her head lulled against Paige’s.

“It’s okay, we’re going home.” Paige continued and Marina stirred, frowning.

“No…” Now it was her turn to sob, “Please don’t. Let me go, Paige. I don’t want...I don’t….” She struggled to get the words out. As much as she felt guilty for putting Paige through this whole ordeal, her pain outweighed that. The pain outweighed everything: her love for Paige, the children, even Phillip - as much as he misunderstood her. It outweighed her will to love.

Paige watched her flounder helplessly. She hated seeing Marina in so much turmoil. She didn’t want to say anything to make it worse. She just held her close and brushed her hair soothingly. “It’s alright. Let’s just get you warmed up first.”

“I can’t.” She whispered with the last ounce of energy before passing out in Paige’s arms. Paige looked down at her sadly for a moment before looking up at Miles. She shot him a sheepish look and gestured for help. Miles carried her in his arms easily while Paige just watched her with worry the whole walk back.

Once they reached Romney Hall’s foyer, she instructed Miles to send a telegram to Phillip informing him of Marina’s condition. She then called for their housekeeper, Mrs. Hurley. After she had gotten Mrs. Hurley, to help her strip Marina of her drenched clothes, the older woman practically shoved Paige to her own room to change into dry clothes. She argued with her, refusing to leave Marina alone for even a moment.

“Go on, dear, I’ll be with her until you return.” Mrs. Hurley shooed Paige out of the room. She huffed and obliged. She dashed to her room to quickly change out of her own icy clothes.

She found one of her old dresses, it was a yellow floral one that Marina loved so much. Marina used to tell her that it brought out the golden flecks in her brown eyes. Paige never liked her brown haired-brown eyed look and found herself to be plain looking. It was only when Marina came along, she felt seen. Being plain didn’t matter as much when someone loved you in spite of it. Hopeful the dress would stir up old memories, Paige stepped into Marina’s bedroom nervously. She said a silent prayer for her to be well. That the seven minutes underwater didn’t do that much damage.

Marina was sleeping soundly when Paige entered the room. She couldn’t help but smile at how at peace Marina looked. At that moment, she understood why Marina spent so much time hiding away and sleeping. This was probably the only place in the house that brought her peace. Sleeping brought her peace.

She had Miles check on the twins before she settled into staying by Marina’s side. She wanted to be there every step of her recovery. Then after, they could get her some real help. The twins were plenty occupied with their playtime for the day. While waiting for the doctor, Paige slipped into the bed by Marina’s side. She cradled her head against her chest and prayed. Even though she was a woman of science and was the type of Christian that only attended church during Christmas, praying was one comfort of her religion she allowed herself. She prayed for all her wishes for Marina. For her happiness, recovery...for the good times to hopefully return. As she wished, hoped and prayed, she found herself falling asleep.

When the night came and brought the doctor along with it, Paige woke with a start at the feverishly warm body beside her. The panic set in and the doctor did his best to soothe her. He coaxed her out of the bed to check on Marina. Paige was more than happy to oblige but stood hovering over the doctor’s shoulder the whole time.

When he diagnosed her with pneumonia, Paige’s heart sank. That was definitely going to finish the job Marina set out to do in the lake. He saw her expression and comforted her by saying she could very well recover. Essentially, it was a waiting game. Paige made peace with those odds, she would gladly take all the time in the world with her. She spent the rest of the night and the next three days nursing her. She dabbed wet cloth after cloth against her warm forehead. Made sure she had the fluffiest pillows and duvet. She specially had the cook make all of her favourite dishes to go with the broth Marina detested.

Paige wanted to tell her to fight but she didn’t want to push her. Instead she spent the last few days together, helping Marina remember the woman she once was and could be again. Paige wanted her to remember to fight for herself.

The morning after, she sat by Marina’s bedside and smiled tenderly at her.

“Do you remember our first season together?” She asked, her elbow propped against the mattress, her face resting on her palm.

Marina turned to her and looked straight into her eyes. For a moment, she was lucid. “Of course,” She said, coarsely. Paige smiled, that was the best response she had gotten from her in the last few months.

“Best and worst year of our lives, I’d reckon. I was so certain I finally had the courage to tell you how I felt. Only for me to find out you were besotted with George and was pregnant with his child!” She could chuckle about it now but she remembered feeling so awful a decade earlier. It wasn't easy feeling to deal with the girl you loved to be in love with your older brother.

Paige Crane has always known she was different in that aspect. None of the boys growing up ever caught her attention. When she became a woman, out during her first season, she couldn’t relate to the way other girls had talked about their suitors. Nothing about the male species ever stirred anything romantic within her. They were just really good friends to her. Women, on the other hand, gave her all the feelings the human emotional spectrum allowed. She wanted to love them and worship them forever. When she met Marina at Romney Hall for the first time smelling the rose bushes, it had confirmed everything she already knew. She loved women. A regular Anne Lister.

She spent a few years loving Marina until her father had sent her away to stay with her London cousins, The Featheringtons. When she heard Marina was moving, she immediately sought out her mother.

“I couldn’t bear to part with you so I convinced Mother to let me debut that season in the city.” She chuckled, recounting the lengths she went to be close to her.

“I’m glad you did.” Marina croaked, the water still hurting her lungs. Now that she felt like speaking to Paige, her body was failing her. She managed a small smile and slipped her hand into hers. She definitely remembered their first season together. It was the best time… til everything quickly went downhill with the news of George’s death, being pregnant with the twins and feeling so alone. Paige was the light in all of that darkness, she had helped pull her out of the loneliness.

Paige grinned back wildly. "I think that's the first full sentence I've heard you speak in the last few months." She nudged her teasingly.

"Oh hush." She attempted to be annoyed but started coughing violently. Paige immediately shot up.

"I'm going to fetch the doctor."

"I just need some water, darling." She coughed once more. Then took a deep breath and managed a smile to show she was fine, despite her exhaustion. Paige nodded and went to fetch her a glass.

As Marina watched Paige walk out the door, she thought back to how much everything had changed in the last 10 years. It only felt like yesterday they had debuted and Marina had tried to marry Colin Bridgerton. Oh, what a mess that was. She was so consumed by her love and grief for George, she missed what was right in front of her.

It took Marina a long time to realise it but she loved men and women the same. Paige was definitely the first woman to stir up romantic feelings within her. It also took her a while to realise loving Paige didn't discount the love she held for George. He would always be her first love and the father of her children. Paige was the love of her life.

She never expected to be like this. She always thought she would be a good mother, full of life and happy. Happy was such an overrated emotion, Marina thought bitterly. It's not something that happens, it's something you work for. You make happiness for yourself. She knew that all too well. She spent the better part of the last decade fighting off her grief and postpartum with no success.

Paige reminded her to take comfort in the good days. It was rather jarring to Marina how she was experiencing a somewhat good day after all these months. Especially the day right after she made an attempt on her life.

"Penny for your thoughts, darling?" Paige asked, handing over the glass. Marina gulp it down quickly and set the cup aside.

"Just...how we got here. I thought it would be…" she ponders over the word, "different."

"Hmm," Paige hummed, "You're telling me. We could have had quite the life if I was a man. I could have married you instead of Phillip." She wrinkled her nose.

She really does love her brother, Lord only knows. And Paige was fairly certain it was a sin to hate your twin. That did not stop her from absolutely despising the way Phillip treats Marina. Or rather not - he had completely abandoned her in the last few years. It was no secret that Phillip and Marina's marriage was one of convenience, security and protection for Marina. Of course, Romney Hall needed heirs and so two birds. But, he could at least pretend to care for her.

"I could have become a spinster like you. We could have been the two crazy spinsters that lived in Romney Hall together." Marina chuckled. Paige beamed at her. It had been so long since she had heard that wondrous laugh.

"I'm not a spinster!" She clasped Marina's hands in hers. "We may not be married on paper but I couldn't imagine spending my life with anyone else. I can't imagine...loving anyone else." Paige looked deep into her eyes. Marina shivered slightly. Her lover had a way of looking directly into your soul.

Paige knew what the doctor had said. That Marina could possibly recover but her gut was telling her something else. She was hit with the sudden realisation that she could lose the love of her life.

"Please fight this, Marina. I know you can. Look at today, it was a good day. You just need to survive the pneumonia and you can start over. We'll erase the last 7 years. Slowly but surely, we can manage your melancholy. You're so much more than it, my love. You know that. Your children deserve to know that."

Paige didn't realise how increasingly desperate she sounded until she began pleading with her. She found her face wet with fresh tears. Marina reached out to wipe the tears of her face.

"I'll try." She said quietly.

"That's all I ask, thank you. I love you, Marina." She leaned over to kiss her. Kissing her back, Marina sighed against her lips. "I love you too."

That night Marina lied awake, watching Paige's chest rise up and down. Marina smiled at her little snores. Just as she felt a glimmer of happiness laying beside her love, the guilt washed over her. She didn't want to promise anything. While today reminded her of the hope she felt to feel alive, deep down she knew it was temporary. She couldn't see herself living past tomorrow.

Sure enough, she was dead in two days.

[ladysorayamafi-foxglove]

Soraya’s First Week - PC 1

[A/N: Special thanks to Anya @thesparklingjewel​ for helping me create that cover! So sorry to keep y’all waiting, but school is starting up again early for film pre-production prep so I had to take a few days to focus on that but here it is! Soraya’s First Week!]

#1: Saturn Return-Soraya’s Intro Fic

Saturn Return  /ˈsætə®n  rɪˈtəːn/

Noun

1. Saturn return is an astrological transit that occurs when the planet Saturn returns to the same place in the sky that it occupied at the moment of a person’s birth. 2. It’s associated with learning hard lessons so you can move into the next phase of your life as a more evolved human.

#2: Plane RP

Thanks to Emi for doing this with me as @ladyjennaturner​!!

#3: Makeovers with Rosie & Raya

Thank you to the wonderful Si @rosie-marlow​ for doing this RP with me and here’s to an awesome friendship between Rosie & Raya!

#4: Running Into Eaton 

I cannot thank Myr enough for humouring my idea in this RP and here’s to hoping for a speedy recovery for Eaton @eaton-schreave​

[ladysorayamafi-foxglove]

C1: Raya Meets The Prince

[A/N: A Special Thanks to Elise for RPing with me as @damian-schreave​ truly the best company to have for midnight snacking. I did edit them a little to add some more internal thoughts and feelings she had during the RPs! Since the Interview and Side RP take place over back to back days, I put them together in the same document. I also threw in a ficlet between the RPs showing how’s she been feeling the past week through a conversation with her family! Also made a cute lil moodboard encompassing the best parts of their Midnight Snacking eheh. Enjoy reading yall! :D]

#5 & #6: Saturn & Neptune Sextile 

Sextile  /ˈsɛkstʌɪl,ˈsɛkstɪl/

Noun [Astrology]

1. A friendly and flirty aspect between signs that are 60 degrees apart 2. Usually they occur between fire and air signs, and earth and water signs 3. Fun, full of good vibes, and undoubtedly positive

Saturn  /ˈsætə®n/

Noun

1. Ruling Planet of Capricorn 2. The sixth planet from the Sun and the second-largest in the Solar System, after Jupiter.

Neptune  \ˈnep-tün,-tyün\

Noun

1. Ruling Planet of Pisces 2. The eighth and farthest-known Solar planet from the Sun.

[ladysorayamafi-foxglove]

C2: First Dates

[A/N: Helloo I am not dead! School has had me busy that I didn’t manage to post this on time but now its here, meme/tea accounts feel free to speculate! [The last RP with Peggy in particular has a S p i c y ending]. Special thanks to Elise (@damian-schreave @peggy-schreave), Anya (@ladymariajosephinereyes) and Chris (@robin-loggedin) for the RPs this Challenge!!

Please enjoy the RP dump from C2 as well as a pre-Selection ficlet that gives more context into her life before The Selection and The Worst Day!]

The Name of the Game 

Pre-Selection Fic AKA Some Backstory Unlocked (also BIG THANKS to Anya for helping me proofread and edit!!)

#10: Harmonic Convergence - Damian & Raya’s Date

[Alternative Title: Planets Aligning]

/hɑːˈmɒnɪk kənˈvəːdʒ(ə)ns/

Noun [Astrology]

1. An exceptional alignment of planets in the Solar System

2. Rekindling the spirit of shared humanity

3. Window of light

#11: Midnight Mercury in Retrograde Feat. MJ & Raya

[Alternative Title: Midnight Breakdowns]

/ˈmɪdnʌɪt ˈməːkjəri ɪn ˈrɛtrəɡreɪd/

Adjective [Astrology]

1. Mercury appears to stop and move backwards from its orbit.

2. People may feel like everything in their life is on hold. The more they push forward, the harder it will be to fight against the tide.

3. This is a time when they must go easy on theirselves because they’re going to be having it harder than others

***

[A/N: This is the point you see I gave up on the astrology theme, it will be back in C3 hahah]

#12: Little Bird & Little Fish - Robin & Raya

The One Where Robin & Raya Meet & Talk About Their Caste Differences 

#13: Midnight Snacks Pt. 2 - Damian Side RP

The One Where They Have Midnight Snacks Again 

#14: The Queen & I - Peggy & Raya

The One Where Raya Meets The Queen With A Spicy Sorta Reveal 

[ladysorayamafi-foxglove]

C3: Debate Week Pt. 1

A/N: I had planned to post earlier but hadn’t finished another pre-Selection fic so Imma just push that and post it for a future challenge.

Special thanks to Emi @hadleyjaneharper for a wonderful debate (as well as the post debate talk 😁) and Myr for facilitating as @ainsley-schreave it was really fun! Also big thanks to Elise @damian-schreave for such a fun hangout (second date?) between Damian and Raya :D

Happy Reading everyone!

#15: The Archer Constellation - Damian & Raya Side

/ˈɑːtʃə kɒnstəˈleɪʃ(ə)n/

Noun 

1. Also known as the Sagittarius constellation

2. Protected by Artemis, goddess of the hunt & archery

#16: Sixth House in The Sun - Hadley & Raya’s Debate 

/sɪksθ haʊs ɪn sʌn/

Noun

1. The Sixth House corresponds with health and wellness

2. The Sun being the source of light and life, makes it the ruling planet for health.

*

[Sleepover RP Coming Soon]

[viscountessevie]

America Singer Week Day 6: The Lost Years Between The One and The Heir

20 Years Worth

Her first birthday as Queen; her 18th birthday was probably the most memorable of birthdays. It was somewhat a new national holiday. Everyone was rejoycing at their new Queen and there was this huge party thrown - compliments of Silvia and Gavril. Everyone who everyone was invited. That was also the first time America encountered Daphne and it was safe to say that it was not the most pleasant experience. Had Maxon not intervened, Daphne might have scratched the birthday’s girls eyes out.

The entire Singer clan- save for Shalom, may his soul rest in peace - was present. Even Kota and this was first time they tried to reconnect but it didn’t work. Thank goodness Leah was there to keep him in check so he didn’t do anything too stupid. Then came the presents! Maxon had two for her. One was one of the three pianos he would gift her over the years. She gasped when she saw it and ran her fingers across the keys. It made the most beautiful sound in the world. May had made a portrait of her. Usually the Palace would comission this sort of piece but who better to paint a portrait of the new Queen than her sister? The portrait was different the typical monarch portraits because May decided to showcase both sides of America. America the Five and America the One. The guests were blown away by May’s talent and America started crying tears of joy. 

Kenna and James didn’t quite know what to get someone who already had everything so they had her old violin polished to look new and had it engraved with her name. America was so touched that they realised it was the thought that counted. Even little Astra gave her rattle to her aunt. Magda sang to her. Leah had made her husband sculpt something for his sister. He had seen her give away her songbird necklace so Ames recived a small marble songbird from Leah and Kota which also doubled as a perfume dispenser at the press of a button. Taking inspiration from his elder brother, Gerad had made her songbird alarm clock knowing that being Queen now, she might want to sleep in but she still needed to be up on time. The party ended on a high note when the guests were ushered out to see King Maxon and Queen America light the fireworks that was already set up for them. When the fireworks shot into the sky, they formed a birthday greeting to Ames in the colours of the old American flag. 

***

Over the years, there are only so many different themes one can do for birthday parties so Maxon and Ames decided to have a garden party for formality sake and then spend the rest of the day together. Though her 20th birthday was a big year seeing that she was two months away from giving birth to the twins. She was very well taken of but she somewhat felt stifled but it was all worth it when the twins came out. Her 21st was a happy one as well seeing it was the first birthday she celebrated with her newborns. Other than that, most of the birthdays were normal with a strawberry tart cake and since she could have anything she wanted and didn’t need presents, she always encouraged her guests and family to donate to her charities instead. 

Presents from the children: When they’re little the twins would sing America a song on her birthday, led very out of tone by Eady while Ahren shyly stands back. This tradition carried on for years even after they grew up with Kaden and Osten joining their ensemble. Though after which Kaden would step aside to recite sonnets by Shakespeare to his mother. Osten used to be really into making scrapbook for his mother before he outgrew that habit. 

And I can imagine Eady designing Ames a dress when she first gets into fashion design. During the first try, it is rather mangled because she hasn’t got the faintest idea how to make a dress. The maids notice and help her, the dress comes out better than Eady could have ever imagined. Over the years she would learn from the maids and every 26th February that rolled around, America would get a better dress from her lovely daughter each year.

Ahren would write her the most beautiful poems and design funny mad libs centering it around Ames to play with the rest of the family. There was one year Kaden and Osten decided to bake Ames her birthday cake but it went horribly wrong when the cake exploded in their faces. After that, they left it to the chefs forever. 

That’s more or less that happens every year, they were all just more than happy to be in each other’s companys. We all know what Ahren gave her for her latest birthday: A heart attack. Nice going dumbass. [Sky will forever be salty and bitter about this]

A/N: Thanks to @not-your-dear for giving me the idea of Eady making dresses for Ames and the twins singing to her!

[viscountessevie]

America Singer Week Day 2: America & Family

Someone Like You Pt. 1

A/N: I am giving Kota the redemption arc he deserves, worry not America appears in this and I have incorporated in one of her birthdays into this and there is a tribute to her at the end of this fic. It has come to a long amount of pages and words on Google Docs so I’m splitting it into several parts. I hope you enjoy reading this as much I enjoyed writing it!

I’ve always known Kota Singer. Back when the Singers could afford tutors for their children, Kenna and Kota Singer were sent to my parents’ home for their general education. I studied along them and a few other childrens in the neighbourhood. Another prominent person who comes to mind is Aspen Leger who was Kota’s best friend. Not only have I always known Kota, I’ve observed him over the years. He was the only student who came to my parents for tutoring who was worth watching. He was a rather interesting character. I have never seen such a strong drive in anyone. He was also wildly ambitious. He never had to say anything about it but if anyone watched him carefully would see he’d always carried himself a little taller than his family. The hunger was also ever present in his eyes. Not to mention, in every test, quiz and assignment he would compete with his sister and other children with such tenacity. He has always wanted to get out of his caste. So it was no surprise when he struck the gold mine when his sculpture was sold to a Two and he gathered fame. I was truly happy for him when I first heard. When I went to congratulate him, his family told me he had left. Which confuses me greatly, I never pegged him to be disloyal to his family; I’ve seen how hard Shalom and Magda Singer worked for their children. After that, all the admiration I’ve held for Kota Singer disappeared. We may have been close in our classes together; I was the only one evenly matched with him. He used to joke about that, saying how having my parents as my tutors gave me home advantage. He used to be such an amusing and clever boy, my amusing and clever friend. What happened to that boy? I would soon find out years later. It was amazing how differently things could have turned out if I had tried harder to be in Kota’s life. I could have convinced him to share his fortune with his family and his sister wouldn’t have felt pressured to enter The Selection. Now look at her, Princess- soon to be Queen America Schreave. I wouldn’t have anyone else - other than the lovely late Queen Amberly - leading this country. I never knew her personally but she was a natural born leader and I had followed bits and pieces of her Selection journey. Her plan to demolish the castes is genius.   I was on my way to the screening of her official coronation as Queen at Carolina’s Town Square when I passed by an art studio. Something about it seemed familiar. Then I saw the signage. Kota’s. It was odder still to see that it was open. Why wasn’t he in Angeles at the actual coronation? I know they had their fair share of fallouts but surely they must have tried to mend it? I have no idea what came over me but I found myself going in. The bell rang, indicating a new customer for him. Before we even saw each other, I heard his hostile tone from the other room. “Get out! I’m closed!” I follow the sound of his voice to an isolated room. I put my hands on my hips as I see him staring out the window, wallowing in his own self pity. “That’s not what your sign says.” I say nonchalantly. He turns to me slightly taken back. He thought he had scared me off. When he finally recognises me, he stands up slowly and blinks rapidly. 

“Lee?” He sounded like he had seen a ghost. I’m sure I was the Ghost of His Past. I simple raised my eyebrows as if asking him to figure out for himself whether I was real or not. He only gets a reaction out of me when I see the cigarette dangling from his lips. I march over him and rip it from his lips. I threw it onto the floor and stomp it out. “That stuff will kill you, Koko. Each stick takes 6 minutes off your life.” His childhood nickname just slipped out. We both smiled fondly at the nicknames we had still preserved for the other over the years. After standing about in silence for a few minutes, Kota sits back down by the window and pats the space beside him. I dust it off before joining him. Clearly he wasn’t going to say anything so I cleared my throat and spoke up. “Don’t mind me asking but why aren’t you in Angeles? With your family where you’re supposed to be.” I cocked my head slightly waiting for a response. I only received a scornful scoff. “She didn’t want me there and made sure of it.” His tone was as bitter as my morning cup of coffee. “What happened, if I’m allowed to ask?” Momentarily I didn’t recognise the Kota sitting beside me. He seemed at a loss for words. Kota Singer always knew what to say and I have always admired him for that. Now he didn’t quite know where to start. I prompted him by asking him to start from the very beginning if he had to. “I just wanted out. You knew that, Lee. I didn’t want to be trapped by my caste. So when the time came for me to shine, I knew I had to leave and make a name for myself. Call me selfish but I couldn’t do what Kenna and America did for our family. I did not want to resent my family even more for holding me back. I promised myself once I achieved what I needed to, I’d help out. I was all too consumed, I was mad enough to want to buy my way into the upper castes. I was a foolish boy and when America suggested the caste elimination, I was outraged. I brought that rage and resentment for my parents for cutting my education short from way back then, back to the house when Father died. I was awful and yet still I don’t regret it.” He goes on to tell me how he is remorseful but can’t bring himself to apologise. She gave up on him and so did he. It was truly heartbreaking but after he was done recounting all the horrid things he had done and said to his family, I whacked the back of his head. “You admit you are foolish yet you are still being an idiot. It’s great that you feel bad, Koko but DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!” He frowned at her while rubbing his head to soothe the pain of her sharp blow. “Was that really necessary?” He asked annoyed. I nodded stubbornly and urged him to fly Angeles himself and apologise properly. He protested, claiming that it’s not his fault they gave up on him. I groaned frustrated. I stand up and walk out. Before leaving, I call out to him, “When you feel like doing the right thing for once in your life, come get me. You know where I live.” I spend the afternoon watching his sister get coronated in awe. *** Every day for the next three months, I watch the door. I wasn’t the type of girl to wait around for a man, so of course I went on with my own life. As soon as I came of age, I took over my parents’ tutoring business. Kota wasn’t the only one trapped by his caste and family but he doesn’t see me being a prat about it. Even while I continued with my everyday life, tutoring and copywriting for my parents, I kept a watchful eye out for the door. Just hoping the doorbell would ring and he would be there standing, telling me that I was right along and that he would go to Angeles to apologise to his family right now. I’ve had multiple variations of this daydream, most of which ends in him asking me to marry him. It’s awfully silly. Of course I know not everyone can have a fairytale story like America and Prince- King Maxon. It was bordering on the fourth month since I last saw Kota when he finally came. Funnily enough, the doorbell never rang when he came. He came through my room window like he used to back when we were extremely close. He would initially come over to get extra books for studying but he would end up staying and we would talk for hours about anything and everything. I was in my room preparing for my next lesson when he jumped in through the window without any warning. I screamed and started hitting him not having seen who it was and assuming it was a burglar. “Lee, Lee, Lee! LEAH IT’S ME!” I dropped the textbook and started apologising profusely. He was starting to bruise. I swipe the first aid kit from one of my drawers and sit him down to treat his bruises, especially the soon to be black eye forming. I dab the area with antiseptic cream to soothe the pain and prevent infections. He winced as it slightly stings. Without thinking I reach out to gently caress his face to distract him from the pain. He leans into my touch and we stay like that comfortably for a while. The spell is broken when my mother calls up to tell me that my students have started streaming in. I get up to leave when Kota clasps my wrist to stop me. I turn to him with a single raised eyebrow, somewhat asking him the silent question yet at the same time daring him to make me late for class. He knows how I hate being late. He lets go but stands up to face me and clears his throat nervously. Kota Singer being nervous, now that was truly a sight. “Lee I will always regret not staying in your during our later years and I no longer want to waste more time, so would you like to go out on a date with me?” He was so cute and meek but I knew what my answer was and he was not going to like it. “No.” I said plainly. “No? Do you know who I am? I am Kota Singer!” I shake my head at him disappointed. “It is saying shit like that, that made your family give up on you. I will not go on a date with you until you sort things out with your family. You have a family who loves and supports you. I bet they didn’t even actually hold you back, they wanted you to be happy so the least you could do, you impossible boy, is to support them in return.” When he was just sullenly looking to the floor instead of responding, I left him be, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a class to teach.” I didn’t see him for another week; this was so typical. I was however pleasantly surprised when he showed up by the end of the week at the front door with cornflowers in hand. I was never a particular fan of flowers but cornflowers were my favourite. Father answered the door and Mother followed behind. They called out to me telling me I had a guest and of course I had no idea who was waiting for me downstairs. As I descended the stairs, my lips formed a little ‘o’ at Kota’s presence. “Kota tells us he’ll be taking you out tonight.” Mother seems happy, she’s always lamenting that I never go out. Father was seizing up Kota until he realises this was the Kota Singer. I couldn’t very well turn him down in front of my parents, that was very sneaky on his part. I was adequately dressed and all I needed was my purse which I quickly grab from my room while applying a little makeup before going to greet my date. He holds out his arm and I take it gratefully. I can hear my parents whispering happily behind us before they close the front door. Once we were a considerable distance from my house, I turn to him and he smiles at me sheepishly. “I am not mad.” I say simply and he seems surprised at this.   “You aren’t?” I shook my head at him.   “I admire your ability to think out of the box far too much to be angry but that being said I won’t be as forgiving in the future if you ever put me in a spot like that ever again.” He nodded solemnly before taking my hand in his and leading me to a nearby restaurant. When we entered the restaurant, I shrunk into myself. I considered myself to be a confident person who was sure of herself but I was severely underdressed. This was also the moment I realised exactly how well off Kota was. He noticed my reluctance, pulled me closer by his side and rubbed soothing circles at the small of my back.

“Don’t worry, darling, you look perfect.” Darling? That’s new. I shrugged to myself as I leaned closer to him, taking in his scent. He just had a touch of cologne that went well with his natural musk of oil paints and sculpture rubble. I was too consumed with the ambience of the restaurant to listen to Kota speak to the host. Several chandeliers sparkled from above, giving the room an extra touch of glamour to it. The rounded tables were arranged in a perfect manner, dressed in silk table cloths with champagnes flutes and silverware arranged impeccably. The whole setting felt as fancy and classy as a wedding reception would. With my plain silvery governess dress, I really felt extremely underdressed. When we were seated - Kota being a gentleman and pulling out the chair for me - I hissed at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me we were coming to a place like this?” He frowned.

“What’s wrong, love? Don’t you like it?” “I am not your love! Are you kidding me? I’m definitely not dressed for this place!” I was trying to stay calm but I couldn’t tell if Kota was trying to humiliate me or not. I will not allow myself to be his charity case. He sensed my bubbling anger and reached out for my hand. Instantly I calmed down, I look at him quizzically. How did he do that?

“You look astounding so don’t you worry about how you are dressed. Everyone else is simply overdressed.” I snorted, that was a little funny.

“Next time, a fair warning would be nice.” He agreed and we went about with our dinner. It’s been too long since we properly talked - not since we were 14. I missed having him in my life, you never quite realise how prominent someone’s presence is in your life until there is an absence of it. Like old times, we conversed about anything and everything.

“How is Aspen Leger? You used to be best friends with him, right?” I asked, remembering that name out of nowhere. Kota let out a bitter laugh. I raised an eyebrow in inquiry. I wonder what happened.

“Turns out he was after my sister.” My eyes widen, was America with him while competing in The Selection? He nodded, answering my silent question.

“At least that’s what I gathered, not mention when I blackmailed her about at the funeral, it evoked a reaction.” I pursed my lips at the mention of him blackmailing his sister. I wanted to point out once again that this is why he has been estranged but he seemed torn up about Aspen even though he was trying to hide it behind his scorn.

I suppose that’s why despite all the horrid things Kota has done thus far, I could tolerate him. He does them for a reason but he just hides it under his façade of being jerk but I always see right through him. He needs someone like me to keep him in check as for me why did I need him?

Well the answer was quite simple, though I’d never admit it to anyone even if they held me at gunpoint, I have been in love with him since I was 8 years old.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

[viscountessevie]

America Singer Week Day 2: America & Family

Someone Like You Pt. 2

That first date was truly marvelous, we laughed, we went down memory lane and generally I had an amazing time. I cannot remember the last time I felt truly happy to be in someone’s company. I never made friends in the classes I took with the other children because they were too intimidated by my parents and by association they were shied away from me. Kota was the first one who didn’t shy away and Aspen tagging along with Kota also made good company.

Snapping out of my little flashback moment, I pick up the phone and shove it into my sleeping boyfriend’s face. Though I knew he wasn’t really sleeping, he was just trying to get out of calling his sister.

“Kota Kansas Singer! I know you aren’t actually sleeping, call America!” He pretended to be slipping into a deeper sleep and turned to the other side. He was the worst roommate ever. Yes, it’s been two years since that first date and we bought a quaint cottage together in Angeles to be near to Magda. I push him off the bed as a punishment. He fell off with a painful thud and when I peeked from the edge of the bed to check on him, the man was still sleeping like a log. It was safe to say he wasn’t pretending to sleep.

An hour later, I was eating my breakfast watching my boyfriend wake up slowly. He sat up groggily from the floor and stared at me sleepily and confused. Well I couldn’t blame him, his girlfriend was eating breakfast cross legged on our bedroom floor while he just woke up from the floor.

“Good morning, sleepy head.” I say sweetly before roughly shoving the portable landline into his hands, “Call America now! No excuses.” I’ve been doing this for the past two years since he was officially elevated to a Royal through his family. I have been forcing him to call his family when the holidays or birthdays rolled around. Today was America’s birthday and it was potent that he called her because he has been making excuses not to call anyone for the entire year now. I’m surprised he never became tired of me forcing to call them on the special occasions without fail and at my ability to put up with his useless excuses.

“Noooo.” He whined. It was bad enough that we missed welcoming the twins into the world, I didn’t want him to miss anymore crucial moments in his family’s lives. When I relayed this back to him, he huffed before giving me the same old answer.

“You’re the only family I need, Lee.” That was sweet and all but when you hear it several times a year, the novelty wears off. There was a new found determination in me today. I wasn’t going to let this slide. I set down my plate of delicious scrambled eggs and picked up the phone. I dialled the private Palace number that Magda had given me and waited as it rang. Finally someone picked it up giggling.

“Maxon, no! Someone’s calling! Hello, Queen America speaking.” I cracked a smile at my future sister-in-law. Only she could make calling the King by his first name sound natural. It took a few hellos from America to snap me out my daydream where I envisioned a future like this with Kota. After he gets over his huge ego.

“Hello America, this is Leah…um Kota’s girlfriend?” I have no idea why that last part came out as a question, I wasn’t even sure if Magda told America about me or that she had given me her private number.

“Leah! My mother has spoken about you.” I let out the breath I didn’t realise I was holding in. This is a start, she knows me.

“I was wondering if Kota and I could invite you to a birthday meal, our treat.”

“NO!” Kota protested, still sprawled on the floor like a bum. I shushed him before reprimanding him harshly. “You don’t get a say in this, Mister. You are lying on the floor like a bum and are not making an effort.” I heard America laugh musically over the line.

“I like you Leah. How about you come over to the Palace for lunch today around noon onwards? I’m sure it’s about time my brother and I tried to work things out…” Her tone sounded forced when she talked about working things out with Kota. I could only guess that the King persuaded her to do so like how I was doing with Kota. She asked for our address, saying that she’ll have a car sent and we bid each other goodbye. I set down the receiver smiling, having made a new friend in the Queen of Illèa.

***

I straighten his gray tie and smooth over the light creases on his sleeves. I step back to examine my handiwork. I smile satisfied.

“Well don’t you look handsome, Mr. Singer?” I grin cheekily at him. He bites his lip, indicating him being turned on. I widen my eyes in faux innocence and wag my finger playfully at him. He steps forward and encircles his arms around my waist, pulling me to him.

“You are stunning as well, Ms. Lovett.” I giggled as he pulled me in for a kiss.

I pull away a little while later when I realised the car was to pull up any moment. I grab my purse and smooth over the wrinkle on my dress. It was rather pretty dress, a subtle orange and green intricately patterned dress that came down to my knees, hopefully it was good enough for the palace. We head out to the curb, hand in hand, waiting for the car. It was rather hard to miss, it was a long and slick onyx limousine. Kota pulled open the door for me before the chauffeur could, it was a wonder how he could be such a gentleman but so awful at times. He likes to joke that I’m only special one who deserves such kindness but it always leaves me feeling disgruntled.

I settle into the seat when I’m faced with shockingly familiar green eyes. My memory of him is fading since I haven’t seen him since we were little but this man seated beside me was Aspen Leger. He really grew into an impressive figure. I remember seeing him as a kid, he was scrawny but now he was still lean but had well toned, muscular arms. My momentary ogling was put to a stop when Kota came to sit beside me and was greeted with a hostile punch. I fell back into my cushioned seat from the shock of what happened. I turned to Aspen with a glare and at the same time shielding Kota from any more physical abuse.

“Was that really necessary?” I questioned with a set jaw. I knew Kota was a jerk but I do not take kindly to people who assault him. Use your words, people! “That was for blackmailing Mer about us.” Aspen ignored me and spat that at my boyfriend. Still shielding Kota, I leaned forward, making sure Aspen noticed me.

“Excuse me, I’m right here and I asked you a question. That was completely unnecessary and uncalled for. I’m only going to ask you to do this once otherwise we are going have a horrid experience on the way to the Palace. Apologise to him. I know my boyfriend is a jerk and he has done many awful things but that does not make him a punching bag. Kota, apologise to Aspen for blackmailing your sister.”

Both of them mumbled apologises and sat in sullen silence for the rest of the ride. I examined Kota’s face for any bruising. Since I was in between the two men, Aspen missed and softened the blow so he only nicked Kota’s jaw. I rub it soothingly for the rest of the ride. The only time Aspen spoke to us was to brief us on his presence; he would be our guard-escort for the entity of this visit (neither of the men liked the idea of this) and the security measures within the Palace. They would have to search our carry ons - my purse - and us before we could enter the Palace.

After our security check, Aspen guided us to the Dining Hall. Before we entered, I turned to Aspen and offered him a civil smile, “It was nice seeing you again, Aspen save for the moment you assaulted my boyfriend. You grew well into your arms.” I compliment and he throws me a playful wink. It was intentional to get a reaction out of Kota who immediately pulls me closer to his side.

“I’ll be joining you in a few moment I just need to change into something more casual.” This caused Kota to narrow his eyes into threatening slits. I elbow him for being so rude. Aspen gives me a slight bow before walking off in the other direction. I pull out of Kota gripping hold and start walking ahead, putting distance between.

“I’m a girl, Kota. Not a toy that you feel so threatened of losing.” My tone is sharp so he knows he’s in trouble. He catches up to me but before he could say he was sorry, we were faced with the royal family. I fell into a deep curtsy but Kota was reluctant to bow until I tugged on his arm. We stood together and made our way to our seats. For the sanity of everyone, Kota sat on my left, reasonably far from the rest of the family. While we waited for the food, I introduced myself to the family and they went around doing the same. It was funny how I was with the man for 2 years and never properly knew his family, I didn’t even know May and Gerad’s names until now. I was able to swoon and coo at the little twins. Eadlyn made a grab for my finger and shook it firmly. She was born to be Queen while her brother was a cute fluff of blonde. They were a lovely family and I already felt so welcomed and a part of the family. How could he hate them so much?

After the initial introductions and small talk, I took out America’s present from my purse. I honestly hope she liked it. She gasped when she caught sight of it.

“I’m sorry it isn’t wrapped, it’s something I picked up today in town.”

“I LOVE IT!” She exclaimed excitedly and was about to pop the faux strawberry tart into her mouth when I stopped her. I explained that it was a compact case to keep trinkets like personal jewelry. Her face turned sheepish at her mistake. Everyone simply laughed it off as she thanked me for the gift.

It was a great feast, stories were exchanged all around and I laughed when I was told embarrassingly cute childhood stories about Kota as a child. While I was having my fun, I should have seen it coming. He was getting restless and more sullen as the lunch went on. The tipping point was when Aspen came in with Lucy, his wife. All eyes were on them obviously because new company is always seen. My gaze on Aspen, however agitated Kota and he took it out on America when the old childhood friend of his sat next to his sister. I should have stopped him when he sneered before I let him open his big mouth. How did I not see it coming?

“Still getting around I see.” He commented sharply and loudly enough for everyone to hear. For extra effect, he gestured between her husband and Aspen and how she was perfect situated between both men. The whole table immediately fell silent. I was disgusted with Kota’s behaviour. I was about to tell him off when America beat me to it.

“What did you say?” Her tone was chilling to the bone. He had the nerve to look bored and stared at her square in the eye.

“You heard me.” Her cutlery clattered onto the table like harsh rain. Her face turned as red as her hair.

“Get out.” She tried to keep her composure. When he made no move, she started to yell, “GET OUT, GET OUT!” I practically shoved him out of the chair. When the guards came forth to escort him out, he waved them away,

“I can see myself out.”

I burned with humiliation. How could he do that? I apologised profusely and gave the Royal Family a deep curtsy before running after him. Never again, I decided as I chased him, will I clean up his messes again. I will never allow him to put me in that situation ever again. I refused to speak to or ever look at him throughout our ride back home. I stepped out and stared at the cottage, it no longer felt like home.

I roughly brushed past him and marched into the house. I efficiently went to our room and started packing. I could feel his eyes burning into my back as he watched me pack away. A part of me wanted him to stop me and ask why. I wanted to tell him why and I wanted him to try to mend his mistake. I would still be mad at him for a while but I just wanted the effort from him. I saw the fallen tear glisten on my suitcase as I realised he wasn’t going to even try to stop me.

My spirits were slightly lifted when he spoke just before I was out the door.

“Just like everyone else.” I lower my suitcase, slowly pivoting on my heel to face him. “What?” I wasn’t sure where this was going. “You’re leaving just like everyone else.” It hit me like a ton of bricks. I drop my suitcase completely and almost go to hug him when I hold back. He can’t just make a mess of things and then pull a pity card for me to forgive him.

“I never want to be put in a situation like that ever again but I’m not leaving. I just need a break and so do you. You need to reevaluate your life, Kota. How could you be so cruel to your family like that?”

“Those people were not my family! They have never cared for me, it was always about America the most talented or Kenna the eldest or May the most amusing and even when Gerad came along, he was adored! I’m so glad I left, I don’t need them!” I should have seen how ignore he felt instead I was too blinded by my anger at his lack of gratitude.

“THEY STILL LOVE AND CARE FOR YOU, YOU IDIOT! I bet if you just went to any of them, you would have been showered with the attention, instead you shut yourself away. YOU WEREN’T THE ONLY ONE WHO FELT TRAPPED BY THEIR CASTE!” I finally scream at him. I could no longer keep this secret from him. He stares at me dumbfounded. I take my cue to continue.

“I hate teaching. I never wanted to take over my parents’ profession. I wanted to sing and write. I could write as a Three but my parents insisted I teach and so ultimately my main ambition to be a singer was disposed off. At least you like what you do and have a family who supports what you do and love! Be grateful for once in your life, you brat!” As soon as the insult left my lips I regretted it. Kota’s face hardened. One of the best parts of our relationships was that we were supportive and kind to each other. Calling him a brat - something that all his family members have thought about him once or twice - was a harsh blow to him. It was even worse coming from me because I was a person who could be trusted to always be his pillar of kindness. I reach out to him, the phrase I’m sorry tumbling from my lips. He turns away. In a very quietly powerful and anger voice, he tells me to get out.

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4

[viscountessevie]

America Singer Week Day 2: America and Family

Someone Like You Pt. 3

I went back to Carolina. Back to my parents. Back to being a governess. Back to dealing with bratty kids who had the attention span of a goldfish. It was suffice to say that I was miserable. At least with Kota, even if I wasn’t actively working, I was happy to assist him in his studio. With each passing day, I missed him even more. Once or twice I picked up the phone to ring him to apologise again but I knew he would hate that so I just waited for him to call me once he had simmered.

A year went by. My parents were badgering me about what happened with him. The second year went by, I wrote him letters to show at least I made an effort. My parents asked if I was ever going to get married. A third year flew past. My parents were getting impatient. They did not want a reputation of having a spinster daughter. We were in a revolutionary time; the castes were being dissolved. Their daughter being unmarried is the least of their worries in this modern society. Year four came and went. I had completely given up. I told my parents to find me a match if they were that desperate to get me a husband and wanted grandkids (though I never wanted kids, alas duty to my family is always a priority).

It was the beginning of five years since I last saw Kota Singer. I was supposed to meet my future husband on a blind date today. I carefully located the address that my parents had given me and my jaw dropped when I saw where the date was set up to be. It was the fancy restaurant Kota brought me to on our first date. My breath hitched and I had half a mind to run in the other direction. I braced myself and took a deep breath. I needed to move on, I couldn’t still be pining over that jackass. I pushed through the door and walk up to the host.

“Reservation for two under Lovett.” The man checked the list and found my name.

“Ah, your date arrived a few minutes earlier. This way, Miss.” He guided me over to the table and I caught a flash of red hair. Fuck no. (Pardon my language). My mystery date was Kota. I didn’t want to make a scene so I begrudgingly took my seat across him. I refused to look at him because I knew if I did, I’d break down crying.

“Surprise!” His tone was sheepish and could sense him wearing a nervous smile. Dammit I knew him too well. I betrayed myself by lifting my head up to him. It felt like 5 years hadn’t even gone by and we were right where we started. It was a weird sense of deja vu. I wore a blank expression, not quite sure what to say. So I started with the obvious.

“Did my parents put you up to this? I don’t believe it, this is a new low even for them.” I found myself clenching my fists furiously. Both Kota and I were surprised to see me this upset with them. The only person who ever made me angry was him but even with him it was layered with love. I finally somewhat understood Kota’s resentment for his family. He reached out and covered my fists in his calloused - from all the sculpting - yet soft hands.

“Hey don’t be angry at them. I asked them, I needed a way to talk to you and letters or phone calls didn’t seem enough. I flew out here and made the necessary arrangements with them. I’m sorry for tricking you but don’t hold it against them. Looks like I’m your future husband, huh?” He cracked a smile, I couldn’t help myself and followed suit.

“This doesn’t mean we are completely okay, Koko. You were gone for five years and not to mention I didn’t hear from you at all. A simple letter or phone call would have sufficed!” He smiled at his nickname (I wasn’t even sure how it slipped out) but his eyebrows crinkled ever so slightly when he heard my voice crack towards the end.

“I know and I’m so sorry. You were right, Lee. I needed to reevaluate my life and I did. I no longer want to keep apologising my actions. It took a long time for me to admit that and I realised that after that I needed you in my life. You make me want to be a better person, Lee. I’m not saying I changed overnight but I have been trying these past 5 years. I am still trying and I want you to give me one last chance. Oh, I made you something.” My heart swelled at the sincerity of his declaration. I believed him and trusted that he would keep to his word. He pulled out a velvet bag from his satchel and slid it carefully over to me. Before opening it, I felt up the mysterious item inside and he grinned at me fondly. He knew I liked to feel up and guess my gifts before actually opening them. Then I delicately loosened the strings of the bag and picked up the item inside. It was wooden and for a moment I didn’t recognise what it was. Examining the circular shape attached to a longer smoothed over cylinder, I realised it was a wooden microphone. I faced him with adoring eyes. I was extremely touched. He made this just for me and I know it must have been hard because he has never used wood for any of his sculptures, he mostly worked with clay and marble. I was about to question the sudden change in material, when he pointed to the latch.

“It opens.” He said simply but I could sense his excitement. He was on the edge of his seat, his eyes twinkling and his cheeks flushed to a rosy colour. What was inside this mic? I fiddled with the latched before it clicked open. I brought up a shaky hand to muffle my loud gasp. Embedded comfortably on a silk cushion was a ring. It wasn’t just any plain old, boring diamond engagement ring because he knew I hated how cliche and plain diamond rings were. He brought my dream ring come to life. I’ve always wanted a ring that was incorporated with my partner’s and my birthstones. The irony was that I hate diamonds but that was my birthstone while Kota’s - being born on October 13 - was an opal and pink tourmaline. He was smart enough to make sure diamonds were the smallest part of the ring while the opals and tourmalines shone through. It was a simple metallic band which had an intricate crisscrossed pattern on both sides before coming together in the middle with a heart shaped opal and a pink tourmaline which were connected together by three small diamonds lined up vertically.

We gazed into each other’s eyes, he didn’t even need to say anything and I said yes. He placed a dramatic hand to his forehead to wipe away non-existent sweat in relief. He explains that he invited his family to a dinner party to celebrate our engagement when I raised a questioning eyebrow at his relief.

“What if I had said no?” I wheezed, I can’t imagine how panicked he would have been if I hadn’t accepted his proposal.

“I would have asked again. Then ask again the next day. I would have  found ways to prove myself to you and asked everyday until you found me worthy and said yes.” I blushed, just only realising how much he really loved me and how much I meant to him. I went over to his side of the table to hug him really tightly.

On our walk back home, I realised that we were in Carolina and his family were in Angeles.

“Where exactly is this engagement party being held?” He was a deer caught in the headlights. He stuttered before I gave him a stern glare. Then he finally admitted that my parents were helpful enough to pack my bags for me while we were out today so that I could leave for Angeles tonight. This sly boy; my sly boy that I adored dearly.

The following night after we landed in Angeles, we held a small and private engagement party with our families. Magda and King Maxon were able to convince America come along and I promised that Kota was genuinely trying to be nice now. She only scoffed and wished me luck. I didn’t hold against her, it was rather hard to believe that after all those years of being horribly rude to his family, he was changed completely. They were bound to have their reservations, I just hope they can see he was trying and of course he did not pull a 180 change but rather was trying to more pleasant day by day.

It was a fairly normal engagement party; the women gushing over my ring, children running around playing catching and the men seizing up Kota. I turn away from the girls momentarily to see Maxon - I finally relented to calling him without a title when he insisted we were family now - offering little Kaden to Kota. I smile at Maxon, he seems to be the only one who seems to be giving Kota a chance other than Magda. A mother’s love has no bounds. When Kota gingerly took Kaden into his arms, I had to laugh at his terrified expression. His stiff posture relaxed and he carefully placed Kaden’s head on his shoulder and patted his back soothingly to put him to sleep. When my fiancé caught my eye, he gave me a serene smile. I had to excuse myself from the ladies to be by his side. I coo over Kaden’s sleeping form and watching Kota be so good with him made my heart swell. I never liked kids but seeing Kota right now with Kaden safely tucked away in his arms, I wanted to mother his children. I wanted to raise them with him, they’d have his red hair and my eyes, or vice versa. Every time I looked at them, I would see a little bit of him in them. I wanted a family with him.

After dinner, we gathered everyone because Kota wanted to kill two birds with one stone. His speech was directed more to his family than me and our engagement.

“Before I start, I want to apologise for everything horrible I ever did or said to all of you. As I told my fianceé a few days ago, I am done apologising, I no longer want to be that awful person you know. I l have had five long years to reflect and admit to myself that the problem didn’t just lie with you but with me as well. Those five years made me realise I have no idea where I’d be without this amazing woman in my life,” He pulled me flush against his side and I kissed his cheek affectionately. “I do not expect all of you to forgive me right away, of course you have reservations but believe me when I say I am trying. So here is to new beginnings and our family!” Everyone clinked their glasses and drank to that.

As everyone started to leave, America stopped to say her goodbyes. She hugged me tightly, “Welcome to the family!” and averted her eyes to her brother in an unsure manner.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” She said simply and I could see him biting down on his tongue from lashing out a snarky comment. I squeezed his arm comfortingly with a hint of pride. After everyone had left, we crashed on our sofa, dreading the clean up and wedding plans to come. For the time being we were happy just to be resting in each other’s company with intertwined hands.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

[viscountessevie]

America Singer Week Day 2: America and Family

Someone Like You Pt. 4

11 years later, we were still blissfully married. It was a bumpy first few years. The wedding had gone splendidly but the strain between him and America was still tensed but it was slowly getting better as Maxon and I wear them down. The bumps came with a lack of a bump from me. A few years after we had settled down, we discussed the prospects of having children. We started to try but failed and when we visit a doctor, I was told I was barren. I refused to talk to anyone for months after that, it put a slight strain on our relationship. Eventually I recovered my slump and was simply appreciative that I was with the man I loved and I was finally free to do what I wanted. After we were married, I started singing and was catapulted to the top after Eadlyn and Ahren had me perform at their 13th birthday party. Soon everyone was booking me for events and parties. I gained even more popularity when I opened for Choosing Yesterday’s tour. This was around the time Kota gained international exposure. He was able to line up his tour with mine so that we could travel together.

That’s been our main activity for the last few years, travelling. Even after our tours ended, we travelled far and wide to exotic places, it was like having a never ending vacation. We were so caught up with travelling and selling Kota’s sculptures which had recently become insanely popular in New Asia, that we weren’t able to check in with what was happening in Angeles. We were devastated when the news of America’s heart finally reached us a full two weeks after it had occurred. We quickly dropped everything to fly back to Angeles. He had cried to me the whole plane ride home. I rocked him back and forth to calm him down and let him lie on my lap as I soothingly ran my fingers through his hair. He sobbed to me how he was so terrified of losing his little sister. They may no longer be as close as they used to be but she was still his favourite little sister and he would have died a little inside if she was taken from him. As he let it all out, I remembered when Kenna passed away. He locked himself in a room and he wouldn’t even talk to me. For a while I felt this was his way of getting back at me when I shut myself away because I couldn’t have kids. Then I realised he needed time to grieve by himself and I was always going to be here for him when he needed me.

Just like that passing years ago, I was going to be here for him. Even if we didn’t actually lose America, it was a close call. We arrived at Angeles just in time to find out that Eadlyn’s Selection had come to a close. It was even more shocking still when we discovered that her future husband wasn’t even in her original pool of suitors. My husband has sobered up from his crying and gave a half smirk at the news.

“Only a Singer would do that.” I nodded in agreement. On the way home, he was in his mood. It was when you could see the gears shifting around in his mind. This usually occurred when he had an idea for a new sculpture but now I could tell it was a different idea altogether. We were rather jet lagged from the plane ride so I decided to sleep it off but Kota decided to stay up to work on his new idea.

The next morning he was drowning himself in coffee to stay awake since he was up all night. I told him he could stay at home if he was too tired. His health came first. He shook his head and mumbled something along the lines of him wanting to do this right. He wasn’t making much sense but I was just going to wait for him to tell me as he eventually does. When we arrived at the Palace, we were given the routine security checks before being cleared to visit America.

“Ames!” He tackled her the moment he saw her. Maxon, America and I were all alarmed when he did that. It seemed so unlike him but I suppose he couldn’t bear to lose another sister. I mouthed Kenna as a form of explanation. America patted his back awkwardly and assured him that she was better. She looked awfully uncomfortable so I had to pry my husband from her.

“There is no need to suffocate your sister, Koko.”

The awkwardness didn’t quite ease when we stayed for lunch. America kept sneaking looks at Kota as if trying to figure out his agenda. I had no idea how times I had to explain to her that he was a better person now. Some things never change so I just let it be. I had the pleasure of meeting Eikko and I giddily approved to Eadlyn. He was dashing and well-spoken. While I was getting acquainted with the newest member of the family, Kota was in his own little world. Except he seemed to be examining the Dining Hall. I nudge him and ask if something is wrong. He shrugged and replied that it was for a new project so I leave it as it was.

We soon bid the family goodbye and head back to the cottage.

“You want to tell what that was about and why you were up all night last night?” He grinned wildly like he was finally able to tell his secret. He excitedly pulled me into his studio. He brought out samples of proposals as I read through them, I realised what he was working on. It was no sculpture or a piece of art, it was so much more than that.

We worked hard at it; drawing up more proposals and contacting contractors to bring our proposals to life. We moved to Carolina for that year to oversee all the construction. We coordinated everything from the remodelling and renovation to electricity and inhabiters. We even enlisted in the help of Kile Woodwork to design a layout through video call since my darling niece had banished him to Bonita. The poor boy.

Our hard work and teamwork paid off a whole year later. We flew the family to Carolina for America’s 38th birthday.  While the house was done up by the renovators and construction workers, Kota and I handled the interior designing with the help of May who aided in painting her beautiful murals. We wanted it to have our own personal touch. We coloured its exterior a bright strawberry colour after America’s favourite dessert. The interior was painted a sky blue like her eyes and it has been said that blue was a calming colour. May’s talent came in when she painted strawberry tarts as a wallpaper. She also painted constellations on the ceilings. The place was perfect. We brought America over with a blindfold over her eyes. We wanted to keep her in suspense until the last minute. Everyone else gasped when they saw it. This only made my sister-in-law even more excited finally we pulled off her blindfold and she gasped.

“Our house…” She whispered. Kota shyly put his hands in his pockets and looked at his shoes humbly. I had to take the lead because he was bashful of what he had accomplished.

“The house was still in his name and since we were living in Angeles, he decided to make good use of it. After your heart attack he knew exactly what to do. This was all Koko’s idea even if he doesn’t want say so.” I beamed proudly at him. America walks over to hug him and I faintly hear her whisper her thanks. We all lined up in a line to stare up at the plaque, naming the renovated Singer house.

The America Singer Care Home for Children

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

[viscountessevie]

The Twins Week 2017 Day 5: Ahren + Camille/Whoever We Ship Him With 

AU Where Ahren Had A Selection Fancast/Drabble

Ahren’s Elite

Camille de Sauveterre - Dove Cameron Ace ‘Jean’ Archibald - Amandla Stenberg Erika Coleman - Lucy Hale  Isla Evans - Emeraude Toubia Violet Johnson - Madison Pettis  Nadia Nox - China Anne McClain Ginny Oswald - Anna Kendrick Sabrina Souza - Sofia Carson

“Trust me, Camille! It’s simply a formality, that’s why I was allowed to add you into the Selection.” Ahren was pulling at his collar, suddenly feeling very hot. “Then why haven’t you ended it, Ahren?” Camille was usually a calm person but this was getting on her nerves. She loved him and he loved her. It was that simple. He didn’t need anymore options so why was he dragging this out?

While Camille thought that it was being dragged out, Ahren knew that it was already a shorter timeline than usual. He knew this because the nation and the PR team knew this. He had narrowed down his pool of 35 ladies to 8 in a span of a month. Everyone knew he would pick Camille but couldn’t figure out why he was taking long. While a month was short, it was reasonable if he knew who he was going to pick and was polite enough to give the other girls a chance.

Although as of late, he wasn’t quite sure if Camille was The One. All of the other 7 girls were brilliant in their own ways. He ran through the names in his head. Erika from Waverly was an artist in every sense of the word. She would draw and sketch the other girls and even did several amusing caricatures of Ahren. She was also an artist with hair, she dyed her hair a different colour every two weeks or so and did all of the other Selected’s hair. Isla was from Honduragua and her Hispanic heritage reminded Maxon of Amberly so Isla immediately won points with him. She was also incredibly kind and Ahren liked that about her. Most of the previous girls were in it for fame and took the competition very seriously which brought out their mean streak. Isla was gracious throughout the whole process, helping the other Selected whenever she could. This gained her the protection of everyone’s strongest competitor.  Violet was born and bred in Angeles and every Selected’s fiercest competitor. She was rather ruthless, not in the way Celeste from Maxon’s Selection had been but Violet has been very intimidating towards the girls who tend to steer clear of her. Isla seems to be the only one to get along with her so instinctively Violet protects Isla from any harassment. Despite being rough around the edges, Ahren and Violet bonded over their mutual love for writing.  Nadia is a very mellow contender in the Selection, she keeps to herself mostly but is able to keep conversation when required of her. Before coming to the Palace she spent most of her days in Zuni as a wildlife photographer, she was able to talk to the King about their mutual passion in photography and helped Ahren dig deeper with his own hobby of photography. Ginny was Violet’s counterpart from Columbia. Some would say that the two of them were two sides of the same coin. While Violet was outwardly hostile about being tough, Ginny was more sly about her methods. While Ahren enjoyed her company, she was an aspiring architect, he didn’t quite like her methods of sabtoge. Eady was the one who asked to have her stay because she recognised the ambition Ginny had.  Sabrina had lived her whole life in Clermont, she worked as a life guard and swimsuit model. She was the life of the party and Ahren admired her social skills when the various dignitaries had come to visit Illéa for the Annual World Peace Conference. She was able to charm even the stiff Germans and that was something the people needed in their Queen. While everyone knew Camille was the clear winner, Sabrina was well liked internationally.  Ace’s birth name was Jen but prefered to go by Ace and was from Carolina. Ahren had absolutely no words to describe her. The moment they met they hit it off and there was an instant connection but of course he supressed it for the sake of Camille. Ace was rather quiet but when prompted she would light up the room with her jokes and she was a singer working her way up like his mother once was. In every room she entered, you could hear her humming tunes, old and new. 

He shook his head, trying to keep Ace out of his head. He didn’t want to think about her. Not while he was arguing with Camille. She was still expecting his answer. He was at a loss for words.

“I like their company. They are nice girls who make good friends.” Was his lame excuse and Camille could only scoff. She was losing her patience. “They can be friends after you’ve ended the Selection.” Ahren’s eyes wandered around his room. That’s when Camille knew. She whispered it so softly he almost didn’t catch it.

“You love someone else.” She left so quickly he couldn’t catch her. “No, I love you!” He yelled after her but added quietly as an afterthought, “but I might love her more.” He sighed heavily and headed down to the opposite wing. He was hoping the particular Selected on his mind would still be up. He knocked on her door softly. He waited a few second before the door opened slightly and her face was visible through the gap. She rubbed her eyes tiredly but perked up when she saw who her guest was.  “Your Highness, may I help you?” He noticed something was off. She had short hair instead of her usual cockscrew curls and her voice was lower. In fact, Ahren  realised that she was not at all a she. Ace saw the prince’s facial expression and instantly realised his mistake. He forgot his wig and forgot to make his voice higher.  “Is this why you wanted to be called Ace instead of Jen?” The Prince was positively heartbroken and Ace knew what he had to do. He invited the Prince into his room and explained everything. He recounted how his sister Jen was Selected but she was terminally ill and she knew how Ace wanted to enter instead. Ace, like most of the country, has watched Ahren grown through the Report episodes and like most girls his age, Ace fell in love. So when Jen gave her blessing, Ace dressed like her and snuck in. 

“Now here we are. I’d understand if you wanted me to leave, your Highness.” Ace stood up to back his things when Ahren held his arm to stop him. While Ace had been talking, Ahren ran through all the memories they had made. Most of their dates consisted of walks in the gardens, getting to know each other and singing ensued at random points of the date. When the Germans had visited, Sabrina was able to charm them with easy going conversation but Ace stole the show with a rendition of a German folksong. He also got on very well with Maxon and America, even more than Camille ever did and something about the three of them bonding, sparked something in Ahren. Ahren thought long and hard about what he wanted to say to Ace. He finally found the words with the memories guiding him.

“I think I might feel the same. I actually came here to talk about it to you. Ever since The Selection began, I’ve always been comfortable talking to you. I’ve had my best memories with you. I realised I want to spend the rest of my life with you, making new memories. Even now, after I know you aren’t a girl, my feelings for you haven’t changed. Only problem is that everyone is counting on me to pick Camille.” Ace couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The Prince felt the same way but Illéa would never accept it. They were in progressive times but not that progressive. 

“I am really happy that you feel the way I do but Camille never lied to you. You should be with her.” Ace clasped their hands together one last time before getting up to leave. 

Tomorrow, he would be gone and Ahren was left to pick Camille. 

[viscountessevie]

Where Are They Now? Eady’s Elite Edition: Gunner

The Elite:  Henri | Hale & Ean | Fox | Kile

A/N: I would personally like to thank my tumblr readers for providing of all of their headcanons for Gunner. Even though I could never pull off Stripper Gunner or Dead Gunner realistically in this, I did mention it somehow in my own way but I will be glad to do a crack fic involving Zombie-Stripper!Gunner one of these days after I’m done with my Where Are They Are Now? Project.

***

Gunner

When Gunner left the Selection, he wasn’t disappointed. If anything he was relieved and slightly confused. Relieved that he wouldn’t have to fill Queen America’s shoes as a consort; he didn’t think anyone could fill her shoes as well as she did with Queen Amberly. He was confused because while Eadlyn’s kiss had been pleasurable, he didn’t feel anything. Not as in she wasn’t the One but he didn’t feel physical attraction. He had never felt it with anyone, for a matter of fact and it worried him. Does this mean he’ll die alone because he didn’t feel any physical or romantic feelings for anyone?

There was a time before the Elite boys settled down when they shared a house as roommates in Angeles because they missed each other after their Selection and simply enjoyed each other’s company enough to share a house.

This was one of those times where all the boys were gathered in the house to hang around each other and even Eikko was present. Gunner decided he would raise the question. He nudged Ean, since he was the current LGBT expert in the house.

“Hey Ean, is there a sexuality that involves not feeling any physical or romantic attraction?”

“Not feeling any physical attraction is being asexual and for romantic attraction is being aromantic. That being said, there are aces and aros who do experience those types of attractions but don’t find it pleasurable. There is a whole spectrum on this, I could get you some books on it, if you’d like.” Ean smiled and offered to get them right away but Gunner shook his head and had a faraway look of awe on his face. He was coming to terms with his sexuality. He never had the chance to think about it before, when society supresses you into thinking that being straight is the default sexuality. Gunner felt a new sense of belonging and pride. He pumped his fist into the air and let out a loud ‘WOOO!’ causing all of the boys except Ean to turn to him.

It was strange for them to see Gunner like this, he was an introvert during his time in The Selection but was slowly leaning towards becoming an ambivert after spending time with the rest of the Elite boys. He usually faded in the background which was why Eady never noticed him much until after his poem. So to see him so loud and happy, he seemed to mirror Henri, who was the first to question Gunner’s outburst.

“What happening?” Henri could almost start stringing whole sentences without Eikko’s help. “I’M ASEXUAL YOU GUYS! IT’S A GLORIOUS DAY!” Then he went around kissing all of the boys on top of their heads. Ean couldn’t help but bury his face in his hands and groan. The newbies who always come to this deep epiphany of being anything other than completely straight always do this; Ean knew this all too well. He did smile at Gunner’s joyous mood, he was glad he helped someone come to terms with who they are.

“You don’t have to always come out you know, Gunner. Straight people never have to do it.” Ean pointed out coolly. “I just wanted my best buddies to know.” Gunner ruffled Ean’s perfectly done hair but instantly froze and retracted his hand when he saw Ean’s cold stare.

Note to self: Never mess with Ean’s hair. Gunner thought to himself.

At this point, Eikko had translated most of it to Henri and Henri jumped up and hugged Gunner while exclaiming, “Onneksi olkoon, ystäväni! Onneksi olkoon, ystäväni!” “Congratulations?” Gunner questioned and Eikko confirmed with a single nod.

“Well, I’m so glad you came to this life changing conclusion, Gunny but now let’s see if you can get a real job!” Fox laughed, winking at the man of the hour. Gunner took the closest thing to him - a throw pillow - and threw it at Fox. “Shut up, Foxy. I thought we agreed not to call me Gunny.”

“HEY! I HAND-STITCHED THAT MYSELF! Just because it’s called a throw pillow doesn’t mean you actually throw it, if that keeps up the seams will fall apart and I will set Ean loose on you!” Hale reprimanded them and they all giggled in response. Everyone knew Hale never gets violent so he usually threatens everyone with Ean even though they all knew Ean was much too classy to punch someone. Just then, Gunner’s dog, Lara- a German Shepherd- came along into the room barking. She then started wrestling the throw pillow from Fox with her teeth. Hale almost lost it.

“Lara! No! Lara Croft, do you hear me? Let go of the pillow!” Gunner tried to help Hale out. After hearing her owner’s soothing voice, she let go of the pillow and jumped on Gunner’s lap. Ean just stared motified - he despised dogs- while Henri came over to pat it. “Söpö koira!” Henri laughed as Lara licked his face.

All the boys’ turned when Fox’s laptop pinged, indicating that Kile was online to video call. Since he had been ‘banished’ to Bonita, he couldn’t live with the boys but video called in frequently to check in with his best friends. The boys gathered around Fox’s laptop with Lara on Henri’s lap now and Ean on the other side of the group, as far away as he can get from Henri and dog but still in the frame. Fox set up the camera and called Kile. When his face popped up on the screen, they all cheered. A cute little ritual amongst the boys.

“Hey guys!” The different variations of ‘Hi/Hello/Hey Kile’ chorused and echoed through the living room and Lara barked happily once she saw Kile. “Good to see you too, Lara,” The shaggy haired blonde laughed, “Did you guys get my care package?”

Another traditional ritual between the Elite boys, they sent Kile care packages to remind him that they were always going to be here and he sent one back every month and it was always huge because it had something for everyone. This month’s package, especially the package for Gunner, had been a particular problem for everyone.

“You really shouldn’t have sent Gunner all that dairy products, you know what it does to him.” Ean reprimanded. Gunner smiled sheepishly with his mouth full of cheese. “He’s been hogging the bathroom because he has the runs everytime he consumes the cheese and you should see how he drowns his cereal every morning with milk!” Fox complained while Hale chimed in, “His lactose intolerance is getting out of hand, no more cheese for you, Gunner and Kile, do not send anymore dairy.” The tailor plucked the block of cheese Gunner was snacking on out of his hand.

“Well you could almost say that my problem’s intolerable.” Gunner giggled to himself at the joke and all the boys enjoyed in, unable to stop themselves. Fox thwacked him on the head. “Don’t you start on those jokes now. Once I stop peeing in bottles, then you can start your jokes.” “Okay, I’m sorry, I know that was cheesy.” Gunner ducked his head apologetically while laughing to himself so hard his dimples started to show. Even Kile was wheezing on the other side of the screen, reminding Eikko of how his father-in-law laughs.

“So help me God I will end this call, Kile Carter Woodwork.” Fox warned light-heartedly before turning to Gunner, “You spoil all the fun, Gunny!” “How dairy you accuse me of such a thing, Foxy!” He fake-gasped and now everyone was doubled over in laughter. After a few simple translations from Eikko, Henri fell over onto the floor laughing which scared Lara causing her to leap across the room and somehow land on Ean who shrieked.

This was the typical day at the Elite Household.

***

A few weeks later, Gunner came home frustrated at his lack of a career. He was currently working at the local high school as an English, History and French subtitute teacher but it was only a temp job. He looked at his housemates; Hale had his career jump started as a world-renowned designer because he designed Eady’s wedding dress, Ean liked to keep his profile low so he was a private tutor for ‘difficult’ (aka snotty rich) kids but even that was stable. Fox was okay being a lifeguard and teaching kids how to swim. Henri started his own bakery and café and occasionally worked catering jobs for celebrities. Then here was Eikko, Mr. Prince Consort. They all knew Kile was doing well in Bonita, helping the growth of Illéa.

What I did I have? Gunner thought, angrily. Unlike Hale, he didn’t want to be famous and make it big using his status as being a former Elite so he had sent his manuscripts under a pseudonym - Gunther Cross - because he wanted his manuscripts to be accepted because they were good not because the publishers thought that he might have close connections to the Queen just because he was in her Selection. Yeah sure Gunner was close to the Queen via her consort because Eikko came over every other weekend to have burping competitions with the rest of them.

So far, he had been rejected by most of the publishing companies and was still waiting on others. He was tired of waiting. To calm himself down, he set his work things in his room, grabbed his laptop and headed to the kitchen. It was a big house, with a few extra rooms other than the ones the other boys had occupied but the only two rooms Gunner ever utilises are his own room and the kitchen. When he walked into the kitchen, as usual Henri was cooking up something.

“Hello today, Gunner!” The bearhug Henri gave him cheered him up a little. “Hey, Henri. What are you making today?” Gunner gestured to the counter where the kneeded dough sat. “Leipäjuusto…is ah bread cheese?” Gunner helped to look it up and showed him a picture and Henri pointed excitedly and clapped. Gunner loved the guy, he was always so cheerful. As Henri baked, Gunner sat up his computer to watch a pre-recorded rugby game. He absolutely adored rugby and a few years ago as an adolescent he tried to play it but soon found out that he was the most uncoodinated person he had ever known. So after a while he realised that not everyone was meant to play rugby, he was content with watching it.

Halfway through he got hungry and Henri was still making his cheese bread (which Gunner swore to himself he will stay away from because he didn’t want Fox to pee in any more bottles) so Gunner got up and went to make himself some popcorn; after which he heavily salted it and melted just a little bit of butter on it, just the way he liked it. As he sat down, Henri passed something over to him.

“Thanks, Henri, WAIT NO!” He dropped it on the counter. Henri had offered him a chocolate bar. He absolutely loathed chocolate ever since he found out that it kills dogs. Henri scratched his head confused. “No chocolate?” “No chocolate,” Gunner confirmed, “Kills dogs.” He made a motion at Lara who had trotted in and made the killing gesture as he dragged his finger across his neck. Henri was definitely alarmed and then shooed away Lara so as to prevent her from accidentally eating the chocolate and also to ensure her fur doesn’t contaminate the food.

After the rugby game ended, Gunner skimmed through his emails and most of them were rejection letters for his manuscript. He had enough. He let out a string of expletives. Immediately, his friends came running to the kitchen. Gunner Croft never swore. This was the first time and there’s always a first time for everything.

“Damn Gunner, what’s wrong?” Fox asked while pulling his best friend close to hug him. Gunner was only able to mumble his words out since he was pressed against Fox’s chest. Fox, realising this, gave Gunner some space.

“God Fox, why are your boobs bigger than my sister’s?” Fox hit him. “Good to see you can still make jokes.” “Love you too, lover.” Gunner winked before drooping his shoulders again, “I’m pissed, you guys. I don’t have a stable job or a proper career unlike you. My manuscript has been reject God know how many times and I’m just so miserable.” He plopped his head on the counter and groaned.

“Gunner okay?” Henri asked. “I don’t think so.” Hale shook his head, poking at Gunner’s head. “I’m not dead, you idiot.” Gunner grunted. “I think Kile can help fix this. Fox, please go get the laptop and call Blondie.”  Ean instructed. Who knows where they would be without Ean? Fox looked mildly offended. “I thought I was Blondie! Ean, how dare you betray me? I LOVE YOU!” They all heard Gunner snort and relaxed a little.

“Hands off, Blondie!” Hale snarled. Once the call was set up, Kile’s calm voice floated through the room. “Gunner, as much as I love seeing your dark curly afro, it would be nicer to see your face, buddy.” Gunner slowly tilted his head up and it was clear that this was really bothering him, his eyes were rimmed red. The rest of the boys saw this and all huddled close to hug him. Fox relyed everything that Gunner had mentioned earlier to Kile.

“It’s all going to be okay.” They all assured him in sync. It was creepy how often they all did that. Only Henri was out of sync with his bashful little “Everything okay!”

“You know you don’t need a stable career to be happy. You can do whatever the hell you want and still be happy.” Kile told him. The other boys patted his back comfortingly. “Be happy! Have bread cheese. Bread cheese!” Henri echoed Kile and fed Gunner the bread while the rest all let out small giggles. Henri was more than happy to make them laugh and smile. Gunner sniffled and smiled too while eating.

“It’s not a nice feeling getting rejected.” he mumbled looking downcast. “I still don’t understand why you can’t use your real name.” Hale questioned. “Ha! As if Gunther Cross isn’t obvious enough. I keep telling him Fox Wesley is a much better pseudonym but he won’t listen.” Fox answered for Gunner which the latter didn’t appreciate so he punched Fox where the sun doesn’t shine.

“Okay I’ll shut up.” Fox squeaked. “The best you can really do is keep doing what you’re doing, Gunner. Hale has sneaked me some of your works. I will admit, they are really good. Anyone would be a fool to reject them. Just keep sending them out those manuscripts and at least one publishing firm is bound to accept it.” Ean advised and Gunner looked up at him, touched. “Thank you, Ean that means alot to me coming from you.” Then Fox tossed him some ice cubes and Gunner pressed it against Ean’s arm, “That being said I have wanted to do this for a long time. The Ice King has finally melted.” The rest of them held their breaths. They didn’t know what to expect from Ean at this point, not even Hale.

“HENRI UNZIP HIS PANTS!” Ean yelled while gesturing wildly to Gunner’s pants. Henri quickly understood and I unzipped Gunner’s pants and held it open while Ean dropped the ice cubes in and quickly zipped it back up.

“FUCK!” Gunner screamed and spent a full minute jumping around with his cold balls while Fox struggled to help unzip his best friend’s pants. Finally after that whole fiasco, the boys settled down and Kile raised a question. “So if Ean’s the Ice King, does that make Hale the Ice Queen?” Hale fanned himself and batted his eyes obnoxiously in response. “Ice Princes!” Henri chimed in, gesturing wildly at Fox, Gunner and himself. “I wanna be the Ice Princess!” Gunner yelled, gleefully. He stood up and placed a huge kiss on Ean and Hale’s cheeks while, yelling, ‘Momma and Papa’ at them. Ean wasn’t feeling it and shoved him aside. Gunner’s previous problems were all forgotten. Gunner looked around, appreciative of his friends and couldn’t imagine living without them.

Just then, the phone rang. Gunner instinctively knew it was for him and ran for it.

“Hello?” “Hello, may I speak to Gunther Cross?” Gunner almost squealed. It was a publishing company getting back to him. He gestured for the others not to pull any tricks like pretending that they were doing something obscene. Last time, his Nana called and she almost went into a coma after Fox did his rendition of an old song called Toxic by an old icon called Britney Spears in his most sultry voice.

“Yes, this is Gunther speaking. How may I help you?” “Well Gunther, I’m Jules Vernon from Illéa Publishing. I’ve read both your poem anthology as well as your novel. We would like to offer you a deal for both. When would be the most convenient time for you to meet with us to discuss this over on a more detailed and technical basis?” “Let me check my calendar, could you give me a moment?” He covered the phone speaker with his hand and threw the other fist in the air and let out a celebratory ‘WHOOP!’ What happened instead was, he knocked his fist into Fox who was drinking water and splashed his whole glass of water on Gunner and the phone. There was a live wire hanging off from the phone which came loose when Gunner pulled at the cord in excitement and the water got all over it, thus electrocuting him. It all happened in a blur and the boys didn’t know how to react until he fell to the floor.

“Ohmygod! He’s dead, you guys!” Fox screaming, running around an unconscious Gunner. “NOT DEAD! HELP!” Henri yelled and tried to pick up Gunner. They all came to their senses and tried to keep Gunner’s head elevated from the floor as Ean dialled for the ambulance.

“Who’s idea was it to install the phone near the sink and water pitcher?” Fox asked annoyed. “My idiotic fiancé.” Ean replied nonchalantly while he waited for the medics to pick up. “It was an aesthetic I saw online.” Hale exclaimed defensively. “Well is a dead Gunner a part of your aesthetic?” “Shut up and put a cold rag to his head, he might be going into shock soon. It wasn’t me who spilt water over him and the live wire.” Hale instructed and scoffed. “Shut up and keep Gunner out of shock.” Ean said as got off the phone, informing them that the ambulance would be arriving soon.

*** A week later, Gunner was fully recovered, the phone in the kitchen had been disposed off and he needed to call Illéa Publishing to make his appointment.

“So what was the call you were fussing about before almost dying?” “For the last time, Fox, I did not die! I’m here now, aren’t I? And the call was from a publishing company wanting to publish both my novel and poem anthology.” “Ohhh, here I thought I could suggest that you could become a stripper as your stable career that you were going on about. Well now that you are going to be an author; I can see it now: Author by day, Stripper by night.” Gunner almost threw the throw pillow at him until he remember how Hale reacted the last time. Instead he gently pushed Lara towards Fox.

“Bite him, Lara!” The fault was that Fox and Gunner spent so much together that Lara adored Fox as much as she adored her owner. “Bite me, Gunner.” “Mords moí, Fox.” “You know I hate it when you speak French.” “Tu sais que je déteste quand vous parlez français.” “Ugh!” “Pouah!”

“EAN, HE’S MIMICKING ME IN FRENCH AGAIN!” “EAN, IL ME IMITANT EN FRANÇAIS À NOUVEAU!” “Not my problem!” Ean yelled from his room, it was so obvious that Hale and him were doing it. Hale never shuts up during and it has kept the boys up on most nights.

“Now shut up, I need to make a call.” Gunner switched back to English. “You’d look good in stripper tights, I’m just saying.” “Fox, if you don’t shut up right now, I will find stripper tights and glue them onto you.” Fox knew Gunner would go through with this threat since the last time he shaved Fox’s hair off when Fox had pissed him off. He shut up and let Gunner make his call.

*** 5 years later

Gunner finally made it as a world renowned writer and poet. After coaxing from the publishing firm, he was convinced to publish his books under his real name. In the past five years, each of the boys moved out one by one. First was Ean and Hale because they wanted to start a family near Ean’s family so they moved to Hansport. Then Henri who had met Skye, serving as his translator amongst his friends until they wanted to move to Sota to be closer to Henri’s family. Fox was the last to move out, only because Clara couldn’t take Gunner and Fox’s constant pranks on her for the two months she tried to live with them. Five years since he got that call, now all the Elites and their families as well as Eady, Eikko and Kerttu had gathered in their house -which was left to Gunner- for his birthday.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GUNNER!” They surprised him when he walked through the door. He jumped back startled but soon recovered, smiled happily at his guests.

“It’s good to see everyone.” He hadn’t seen them in the last two years or so because they were all so busy with their kids but they did visit once in awhile that all the children tackled him. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, UNCLE GUNNER!” Their squeaky voices chorused as they jumped on him one by one. Zofia, Hale and Ean’s eldest daughter stood at a distance. Gunner laughed when he saw her and pulled her towards the pile of children. “You’re so embarassing, Uncle Gunner.” “Does this mean I don’t get my present this year, Zo?” He pouted like a little kid that she couldn’t help but laugh. She shoved his present into his hands and ran off. Gunner let the kids go and play with each other while he caught up with their parents.

“So everyone, I’ve done a lot of travelling with the book tour and I think I’m satisfied. I’ve found a stable job that’s going to help me settle down, you guys.” “STRIPPER IT IS! I’m so glad you found your calling, Gunny! OW, CLARA!” His wife had elbowed him in the ribs and Eady burst out laughing. “Look what you made the Queen do!” he reprimanded his wife. She just pinched him and told him to listen to Gunner’s announcement.

“Fox, I think your wife would like to know what I did for you 21th birthday. The stripper tights incident…” Gunner gave him a suggestive look. “You wouldn’t!” “Can you just get on with the announcement, Gunner?” Ean was impatient.

“Well I talked it over with The Royal Family and Gavril, we agreed that I could take over his job. I do like entertaining people and now we can all be closer together since I imagine that Kerttu would call for all of us to be interviewed every once in a while.” They all laughed.

“Congrats Gunner!” For the first time in five years, the Elites were once again in sync and now with Gunner being the new Gavril, he can call for them anytime, they will be more in sync for many more occasions to come.