#“hey y'all did you enjoy all the nothing i made in the past eight months?”

[voidscarredadjudicator]

Not sure if this has been asked yet, but would you consider setting up some sort of donation page to allow others a way to support your work? 🙂

The thought has crossed my mind, but it's one of those things where getting money involved would turn something that's mainly a hobby into something of an obligation, since it would put me in this mindset of "people are giving me money for me to write so I need to do this pronto", and I feel that would negatively impact the overall quality since I'd basically pressure myself into writing when I'm not exactly in the right mindset for it. I know donations aren't the same thing as commissions but that is just how my brain works 🙃

Plus I wouldn't even know where to begin with setting something like that up anyways. All of that said, I might start looking deeper into it if the demand for it picks up - but as it stands, with how glacial the content drip has been from me, I don't think I'd even be able to bring myself to make a donation page with a straight face.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Steve Rogers, The Man On Fire

Hey y'all, as Pride month draws to a close I would like to post this fic. It's been in my drafts for a month and I finally today found the motivation to finish it. This is special to me for many reasons, one of which being that I'm proudly a part of this community. Some of the anger written in is my own. I think a lot of people will resonate with it. I really hope you all enjoy this and happy Pride Month <3

This was based loosely off a headcannon and once I re-find it I will credit!

Synopsis: Steve is freshly thawed, queer, and pissed | A.k.a. Steve's experience in 21st Century America

Characters: Steve Rogers, Mentions of Bucky Barnes, (loosely a Stucky fic but Steve thinks he's dead here)

Warnings: Angst but not bad, Steve Rogers being volatile and chaotic (we love), poorly written accents (I literally read this with an accent in my head), literally a 2k monologue

Word count: 5.1k

Steve Rogers came out of the ice angry.

No— not angry— Steve Rogers came out of the ice fuckin’ furious.

He came out of the ice with his hands curled into two fists, with his jaw clenched so hard his teeth were liable to snap, and with a bone to pick with every damn reporter and historian and too loud opinion on this side of the Brooklyn Bridge.

He came out simmering— no, erupting— like the serum in his blood couldn’t keep his body from hibernation all those years ago but it sure as hell won’t keep him from setting the entirety of New York on fire now. He’ll burn it all down if he has to and rebuild it the way he remembers it— the way Bucky would have remembered it— and at the end of it all no one— not the bigots or deniers or the homophobes that seem to be the only thing that came with him from the forties— will be able to say that Captain America can’t love whoever he wants.

No one will be able to say that Steve Rogers didn’t love James “Bucky” “the man I’ve loved since twelve years old” Barnes with everything he had and then some.

No one.

So he starts with the museums in Washington— because sure it isn’t New York but where else would a relic like himself belong more?

He still has hope when he enters the building. They didn’t make them like this when he was a kid— they had science fairs in the town hall and culture fairs in the backstreets near the docks but never anything this grand. No tall marble pillars or enough stairs to make him wonder if he would have been able to climb to the top when he was half the size he is now. It’s strange. It’s kind of wonderful. Yeah, the Smithsonian museums make Steve Rogers feel small for the first time in a very long time and that gives him hope.

That hope doesn’t last long, though, because soon he’s wandering through the halls, following the signs that say Captain America: The First Avenger— what the hell is an Avenger? Is that what they’re calling soldiers these days? Now he feels small and old.

Turning the corner is like landing on another planet, one devoted entirely to him. His picture is everywhere he looks, his name is in lights, even his damn uniform has been replicated and presented on a little stage and he hates it. The rage is back, sparking at his fingers— he’s a match and lucky for everyone this building is made of stone because if it wasn’t he’s sure it would be reduced to nothing but ash by now.

It only worsens as he begins reading through the plaques and the paragraphs flashing across screens on the walls— he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to that. The more he reads, though, the more he wonders if the stone is really, truly safe from the fire in his blood. He doesn’t think it is.

He surely isn’t at least— he feels like he’s going to explode. This isn’t him— none of this is him. War hero. Martyr. Golden boy. He has to stop reading that plaque— clearly no one did their research. Clearly no one dug up his medical files— or his police records. Brawls at the pub, disorderly conduct behind Mr. De Luca’s sandwich shop, public nudity at the beach that one time— thank you Bucky for the best night of his god damn life. Golden boy— ha.

Golden nobody with the black eye and broken hand is more like it.

For a moment he thinks he’s fine— he thinks it can’t get worse than this. Then he gets to the early life section and for an even longer moment his tongue tastes like gunpowder.

Steven Grant Rogers grew up in the streets of Brooklyn alongside his friend James Buchanan Barnes—

He can’t bring himself to finish the sentence— not when they already got the most important part wrong. Friend. Friend? No, no, no. No! There are a million words in the english language that Steve could use to describe Bucky and ‘friend’ will never be the first one.

How about best friend?

How about partner in crime?

How about soulmate who loved Steve so much that every night for the past forty-eight days since he woke up in an era that Bucky doesn’t exist in he’s cried himself to sleep with the same cherry cola taste of his ‘friend’ on his tongue.

It’s the final straw— Steve loses it.

“Anyone got a marker?”

The museum is quiet before he speaks but when his voice— steadily rising and taking on that New York headiness that his troops used to jazz him about— cuts through the exhibit— his fuckin’ exhibit— it’s silent. It’s dead, almost as dead as Buck— Nobody dares move a muscle as he rips his ball cap off his head and throws it at the statue of himself. Everyone knows who he is— everyone is going to know who he is so help him god.

“I said—” he tries again— “does anyone have a marker?”

It takes a moment for the people around him to pick their jaws up off the floor and he allows them that moment with a smug grin starting to tug on the corners of his lips. Finally— they’re starting to get it.

He’s not a hero; he’s a supernova of every scrawny, queer kid who’s ever gotten beaten to a pulp for kissing who they want.

Maybe then it’s fitting that the marker— when it’s finally produced and placed in his waiting palm— comes from a teenage girl with a shaved head and a blue, pink, and purple denim jacket and a busted lip. She doesn’t say much— only a mumbled here you go— but her eyes say everything that her words don’t. Give em’ hell, Cap. For the first time since waking up he flashes a genuine grin back— yeah, this one’s for you kid.

Steve wastes no time uncapping the sharpie— he’ll look that one up later— and scratching out the error. The blasphemy to his unholy name. It takes him a little longer to decide what to write in its place. There are a million words, sure, but somehow none of them feel right at this moment. None of them are enough. That’s something he’ll have to come to terms with later, though— how much nothing feels like enough anymore without Bucky.

Finally Steve settles on a word and he scribbles it as neatly as he can given the fact that he hasn’t had to write anything in eighty years. When he takes a step back, feeling alive for the first time since waking up, he beckons over the girl with the shaved head and points to the place where he’s taken it upon himself to correct history.

“Hey kid, why don’t you go ahead and read that outloud for everyone here.”

He allows another moment— this time because she deserves the time it takes for her eyes to light up and the smile to stretch across her bruised mouth.

Steve laughs— a rusted, croaky laugh; another first in forever— when her head whips around, facing him as she loudly proclaims: “It says boyfriend. Steve Rogers grew up in the streets of Brooklyn alongside his boyfriend Bucky Barnes!”

“Damn right I did—” he mutters to the kid before taking a step towards the crowd of gaping mouths. “Did you all hear that? Don’t worry if ya’ didn’t— I’ll say it one more time. Boyfriend. Bucky was my boyfriend and if he was here today he would be my husband. If any of you have a problem with that then feel free to take it up with me. I took on half of Brooklyn for that man and I’ll do it again.”

When no one says anything Steve nods, turning to hand the girl back her marker and to thank her— he may be angry but he hasn’t lost all his manners— but when he looks at her she doesn’t look back. Instead she takes the same step forward that he had, one of her hands balled into a tiny, shaking fist at her side and the other wrapped around a cell phone that’s pointed towards the crowd. He doesn’t understand the mechanics but he thinks she’s recording.

“You hear that?” She parrots the super soldier with a wavering but fierce voice. “Captain America likes men! And none of you can deny it!”

This time it’s his mouth that drops, watching as she shakily turns the camera off and spins back around. Before Steve can say anything, though, she’s talking again, this time hastier, and he can’t help but think that she sounds so much like him. All flushed and scrawny and pissed.

“I’m sorry, I’ll delete the recording if you want but, I jus’ know these bigots are gonna’ try and cover everything up and that would be a fuckin’ shame. I don’t know if you know how many kids need to hear this. I did— and I think they should too. Only if you want, of course.”

He doesn’t answer right away— he can’t. It’s like looking at himself at fifteen. Suddenly he’s back again, his feet hanging in the water as his boyfriend paces behind him, asking if he’s ready to have him look at his knuckles yet. He didn’t get that many good punches in— the scrapes are mostly from the pavement— but Buck always worries too much so it doesn’t matter. The protective idiot.

Steve shakes his head, blinking away the sunset lingering behind his eyes. “Bucky woulda’ loved you, kid.”

The next time he loses it— the next time he turns into more flame than man— is after he saves the city he’s been trying to burn down for three months.

It isn’t long after that day in the museum when Nick Fury decides it would be best for everyone if Steve goes back into the field. Of course, no one really asks him what he wants— they pretty much just shove a new suit into his hands and tell him to get training, Captain— but what else is new?

No one really comments on his outburst besides that either. Can you really call it an outburst when you’re just trying to reclaim the parts of you that have been stolen? Sure, the press gets a hold of the story and, true to what the kid had said, tries to twist it into something more digestible, but no one actually addresses it up with Steve. Apparently when someone saves the world as good as he does no one cares that they kiss men.

Or that they don’t wanna’ to actually save the world anymore.

See, in those three months— between the training and training and even more training that Steve Rogers begrudgingly obliges— he has time to catch up on the world. More importantly, he has time to catch up on what the world thinks of him. He scours a plethora of documentaries, scholarly essays, and whole books of information about his time as Captain America. Well— his time as Captain America when it mattered. In all his scouring he learns one thing: everything written about him is wrong.

It’s all so fuckin’ wrong.

Just why the hell would he want to save a world so bent on destroying who he is?

The Smithsonian exhibition was nothing compared to what’s been written in the eighty years he spent in the ice. Better yet, nothing compared to what hasn’t been written about him. They’ve taken an eraser to every part of his life that doesn’t fit with the golden image that they constructed for him. A.k.a. every part that matters. His relationship, his past, every little thing that made him supposedly perfect for the role he was given. Gone. Erskine told him he was a good man— apparently he was the only one who thought so.

Apparently being a good man isn’t good enough.

They only wanted the perfect soldier. Yeah, well, they had one and they fucked him over too. Don’t even get him started on what they did to Bucky— Steve doesn’t want to think about what Winnifred— Winnie for short— Barnes would do if she saw the history books erasing her baby’s Jewish roots. Or his relationship. It wouldn’t be pretty, that’s for damn sure. If ever there was someone more protective than Bucky it would have been his mother. Not that there’s a damn note about her in anything either though.

Maybe that’s the final straw that does him in this time— watching the place that Mrs. Barnes loved more than almost anything else in the world crumble, while also knowing that the world no longer gives a shit about the two people she loved more.

“Mr. Rogers, this is where you grew up, is it not? Is there anything you would like to say about what took place here in your home city today?”

Maybe he pretends not to hear the last part— maybe he really does only hear up until where the reporter asks him if there is anything he wants to say. He’s been around quite his fair share of explosions; it would make sense that his hearing is a little off. Maybe he just doesn’t care anymore, though.

Scratch that— he definitely doesn’t care anymore.

And why the fuck should he? He does have something to say and propriety be damned he’s going to say it.

Steve stares into the crowd of faceless reporters and flashing cameras with a scowl on his grimey face. Around him stand the other Avengers— his ‘team’. The last time he had a team the historians screwed up the history for every single member. Dugan, Morita, Falsworth, Jones, Dernier, Sawyer, Juniper, Pinkerton. Barnes. All of them were brave men with families and sacrifices and all of them were treated like jokes by ‘reporters’ just like the ones in front of him now. He really doubts there’s a difference between old and new journalism.

The only difference is that now he’s here and this time he’s not going to let them write anything but the damn truth.

“It is—” Steve muses, brushing the sweaty hair from his forehead— “I’m surprised you know that though.”

The reporter cocks his head, clearly confused, and it makes the super soldier’s blood boil. “Come again, sir?”

“I said I’m surprised you know where I was born, kid.” This time when he says the word— kid— it’s derogatory. “Ya’ know, considering how you all seem to know nothing about me otherwise.”

Steve almost smiles at the way the crowd tenses. He actually would if it weren’t for the white hot rage coursing through his veins, mingling with the last of the adrenaline leftover in his system. It gives him an extra kick— not that he needs it. Even when he was just a runt from the wrong side of the tracks he needed nothing more than an offhand comment to raise his fists. Fighting to Steve Rogers has always been intoxicating— the aftershocks of winning the battle just makes it more thrilling now.

Who knew, right?

“Sir I asked—” The reporter sputters and Steve simply holds a hand up, silencing him before he can start again.

“Yeah I know what you asked, alright. You want me to talk about the battle here in New York today and how I am more than happy to have risked my life to save it. But I can’t do that, kid. Because I didn’t save it for you. I didn’t save it for any of you.”

Steve feels his team tense— maybe were it any other time he would stop talking. He would just leave it, let the issue go, because Bucky would tell him too. They aren’t worth it, bruiser, he would say, they aren’t worth your blood. Maybe he would listen to his boyfriend because usually he was right. Bucky was always right. So yeah, maybe he would list—

Who is he kidding; he knows he wouldn’t.

Not then and certainly not now— not when Bucky isn’t here to defend himself against everything Steve has been reading about. That’s exactly why he doesn’t stop talking. Someone has to defend him and who better of a person than him? So, yeah, he keeps going, even when he hears footsteps behind him.

“You wanna’ know who I did save it for? James Barnes, that’s who I saved it for! You see, just around that corner there is a bookstore. Rickley Books. That was my boyfriend's favourite bookstore. You know, the man who gave his life to stop a train in Austria from reaching the enemies? Yeah that was him. That train was filled with supplies. Had it reached their headquarters, who knows if we’d be standing here today. If there would be a New York at all. Not that you would know that. But who cares about that dead sergeant from the 107th, right? There’s plenty just like him.”

Steve shrugs nonchalantly— a move he picked up from the very man he’s speaking about— but he spits his words at the reporters with enough venom to cancel out any peace that the action brings. That’s his own move.

He keeps going. “You know who else I saved it for? His mother. Yeah, his mother Winnie Barnes. Wonderful lady. She used to run a soup kitchen a couple blocks from here. Kept the rift raft like myself from going hungry most nights— I was a brawler, you know.”

A couple of reporters in the crowd laugh at that and Steve flinches, his vision tinting red as he cranes his neck, seeking them out.

“Oh you think that’s funny, do you? You think I’m joking? I’m not. You ever been backed into a corner, son? Had people hurl slurs at you that I can’t even repeat today? Ever been beaten up for loving your best friend? No, I bet you haven’t. You weren’t a queer kid in the thirties. That’s hard— that’s borderline impossible actually. I only made it because of people like Winnie Barnes. That woman was a saint but nobody talks about her either.”

Steve has to take a deep breath, clearing the rasp in his voice that rises as he dwells on the woman he called his second mother for so long. She wasn’t just a saint, she was an angel. He can’t cry here though, not now. Not even as his throat begins to tighten.

“Winnie was the type of lady who didn’t let anyone walk over the little people. She used to sit me down and say Stevie you gotta’ fight for what you want because ain’t nobody gonna’ give it to you. She told me that I shouldn’t have to but that there were going to be people who would try to tear me down just for being me. And she was right— just like her son— because that was the era, you know? But now, here in the twenty-first century, you’re all still trying to tear us down.”

A hand lands on his shoulder, small fingers tugging at where his suit has begun to tear. Natasha Romanoff. He meets her gaze quickly, neck craning to stare down the red head, and in the few seconds their eyes meet it’s like Bucky is next to him. Somehow the blue in her irises catches the falling sun just like his used to. Steve can hear the gruff of his voice in the depths of his mind. Back down, bruiser. The sentiment is echoed across Nat’s face.

Steve shakes her hand off him, turning back to the reporters— don’t they know that he can’t?

“You all say you care about me, huh? That I’m a hero? You know nothing about me— you don’t want to. Before I was a soldier I was a kid. A queer kid. I said that already but let me repeat it. Queer. Did you write that down? None of you certainly did before. That’s how I know that you don’t care— because in an age where being queer is infinitely more accepted you still don’t bother to write it down.”

He pauses for another breath, shutting his eyes against the blinking red lights of the cameras. They’re like little demons, always watching his every move. Recording. Everything’s always recorded these days. Will he ever be used to that? Bucky was the technology guy, not him. Not then and not now.

When Steve picks up again— eyes open and shoulders freshly straight— it’s on a new note— a clear note.

“You don’t care about me— you certainly don’t care about the real heroes of the war because if you did you wouldn’t erase our history. Do you know how much it would have meant to Bucky to see our relationship accepted? The man who died for you? How much it would’ve meant to his mother? You can’t just pick which of our stories and our sacrifices are worthy and which aren't.”

He hasn’t spoken this much since he’s woken up, not all at once at least. Maybe he should have, though— maybe if he had then he wouldn’t feel like ripping the heads off everyone in front of him right now. Call it fight or flight. Call it revenge. Hell, call it whatever you’d like because it doesn’t really matter. Either way he feels like a kid again— again— backed into a corner behind the deli with his fists up and his teeth bared.

He feels feral again.

“So now you just want me to save the world like I did— like Bucky did— all those years ago— or maybe jus’ New York— as if that’s any better— and you don’t even bother to write a proper article about me? Hell, I never even asked for an article, let alone a whole exhibit! I’m just a soldier— and before that I was just a kid. If there’s never another article written about me I’ll be grateful. But now that I’m here, standing in front of you, I’ll say this—”

Just as Steve’s voice is cresting into a shout that would no doubt be heard regardless of whether or not the microphones were in front of him, Natasha tries one more time, her fingers slipping between his.

Her voice is a dull buzz compared to his, only reaching his ears by sheer will. “C’mon Stevie— we gotta’ go now.”

Like before he’s stunned but this time instead of seeing Buck— instead of hearing him in his head— he hears Winnie.

You fought good, honey. You fought good for us. You can rest now.

It’s jarring and it’s not lost on him the handful of awkward seconds that it takes for him to respond. That’s just the effect Winnie had on people though— still has, apparently. Steve shakes his head— I know, mama. But I gotta’ finish this fight.

“No, Nat— I’ve got to say this.” Steve mumbles— voice just beginning to waver despite how hard he clenches his jaw— before sneering at the crowd one last time.

“If I ever read an article from any of you that discredits Bucky Barnes, our relationship, or myself just know that I’ll come for you. I’ll come for this city. Don’t you ever forget who I saved it for. James Barnes, Winnie Barnes, and every queer kid who’s ever felt erased because of people like you. The bigots in the forties couldn’t stop me. The Nazis couldn’t stop me. Not even the Atlantic Ocean could stop me. So don’t think for a second that any of you could either. Have a good day.”

With that Captain America turns, marching off the impromptu stage and beginning the trek back to his apartment. He doesn’t bother looking at his team as he passes them— he can imagine their stunned faces well enough on his own. No doubt he’ll be getting another assignment from Fury soon enough to make up for this ‘outburst’ too. Still, he feels a little bit better. There’s an ache in his shoulder, and one under his ribs too, but he still smiles as he passes Rickman and Sons Books. That must mean something good.

The last time Steve Rogers burns he doesn’t burn the way he’s expecting to— he doesn’t vandalize his own name or blow up at a reporter. No, the third time— the final time— that Steve Rogers burns it’s with nostalgia— and with a damn good cup of coffee in his hand.

“I had no idea this place was even here.” The girl across from Steve muses, tiny hands shifting the steaming cup back and forth.

Her name is Ellie, he learned that back at the museum after asking for a copy of the video she took. He barely knew how to use his phone back then, let alone his email— hell, both still confuse him more often than not— but she had been patient. A little awestruck and a little riled up too but he took it in stride— easily. It’s not hard being nice to the spitting image of him.

“I’m glad I’m good for something other than making the news.” Steve chuckles and this time he means it— there’s no malice or ill intent, only humor. “O’Malley’s ‘s been here longer than I have. Looked a little different then—” he takes a moment to let his eyes wander the old coffee shop and it’s new appliances— a moment to feel his age catch up to him— “but I guess I did too.”

Ellie’s laughter joins in there and it’s strange— strange that he hasn’t laughed with another person in seven, almost eight, months; strange that her laughs sound so much like Bucky’s when they were younger; strange that Bucky isn’t here to hear. Here to laugh, too. Because he would have.

He would have called Steve an old man, would have wrapped his arm around his shoulders, would have asked— no, demanded— that Ellie try the plum cobbler. They always made the best cobbler. Bucky always had the best laugh. All grit and breath and him. Steve feels warm just thinking about it.

“Well thanks for letting me in on the secret, I’ll make sure to guard it carefully.” She even has Bucky’s warm sarcasm.

Maybe it’s not so much like looking in a mirror as it is looking at what he wishes he and his boyfriend could have been back then.

“And thanks for letting me interview you—” Ellie continues, setting the cup down but not before nodding at it, her eyes wide— “wow. You weren’t kidding about the joe, huh? Anyway— thanks for scheduling this. I know you’re probably super busy— and that there are more well established people you could have gone to.”

Steve sets his own mug down too— if he hadn’t there’s a possibility it would be more puddle than porcelain. “Well established means nothin’, kid. Not when you don’t have heart. They’re parasites, all of ‘em. The press couldn’t care less about me.”

Ellie nods, lifting the lid of her laptop. It’s a little bit dented and slathered in stickers, not quite the newest model— he would know, he has the newest one and it’s still sitting in his apartment in the box. Yet another testament to how little the people around him truly know him.

“Welcome to the twenty-first century, can I get you a side of classism with that commercialism?”

Now she sounds like Winnie too.

“Say, has anyone ever told you that you’re funny?”

She shrugs, tilting her head, a lopsided grin glued to her face. “Once or twice— I never know if they mean it or if they just want me to shut up. I never do so I guess we’ll never know.”

Steve sputters out another laugh because; “I guess we’re the same then— never give them a moment, kid. That’s the best advice I can give you.” He pauses— again— he supposes it’s going to be a day of pausing— he supposes it’s about time he pauses— before adding, “Bucky would’ve scolded me for saying that.”

Ellie’s fingers, swift and deft over the machine— Steve hadn’t even seen her begin to type— pause too as her smile softens. “What would he have said instead?”

Her question shouldn’t catch off guard— this is why he asked her to meet him; to finally, properly write his story— their story. Still he pauses— Steve’s empty hands feel hot, his shoulders warm; bare— what would he have said? It doesn’t take long to hear his boyfriend’s voice, not there but somehow loud in his ear all the same.

Just relax— they aren’t worth it. It’s too nice out to care about anything but the water— are you coming in or not? Summer doesn’t last forever, you know?

It’s impossible but Steve can feel the sun on his back and on his ears again, like he’s there— like he’s back, sixteen and on fire. Those were the days where everything made him cold. The days where his skin burned no matter the season but especially in August which was when the ocean was warm enough to swim in. It never stopped him from joining Buck— nothing could have stopped him. His cheeks warm, too, at the thought.

Steve blinks, his own smile— perhaps a little lopsided in it’s own right— shaping over his mouth. “He would have told you to relax— and to try the plum cobbler. It’s fantastic.”

With another giggle— and a reiterated comment— has anyone ever told you you’re funny, Steve?— they fall into a conversation, just a kid and a relic, about life. It’s not an easy conversation— but then again those kinds never are. It’s real, though, and unedited. Unfiltered. Just the way Erskine and Winnie and Bucky would have liked it— the only way Steve wants it. It’s not perfect but, hell, Steve has never been perfect.

He’s never wanted to be.

Maybe Steve doesn’t know everything his boyfriend would say— and maybe he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t blow up once or twice after today— but he can confidently say that he gave Brooklyn a run for her money— twice— and lived to tell the tale. He can say then when it mattered, he burned. That he still burns. That he will until he doesn’t— until he’s extinguished.

But, hey, though Summer doesn’t last forever, not even the Atlantic could extinguish the flame that is Steve Rogers.

That’s what he writes— in Sharpie— on the card he writes to Ellie— the one attached to the computer he knows he’ll never use.

[lsvdw-blog]

Not a Minute More: Part 2

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings; Rating: Mentions of a cyberattack, Angst; Teen+

Premise: MC's perspective on the day that rocks Ethan to his core and threatens to change his life.

Author’s Note: I was going to wait to post this, but I'm loving the flood of content we're getting rn, so I thought I'd hop on too. I cried writing this... I'm so sorry 😭. Part 1 here. I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading 💖

~ Monday, 8:20am ~

"Good morning, Mike!" Serena greets the security guard right inside the door.

"Hey! How are ya? How's that Dr. Ramsey?"

"We're both doing well, thanks! How about you and the family?" She asks as she puts her phone in a cubby and unplugs the Wi-Fi enabler from her laptop.

"It was the wife and I's anniversary this weekend! We went to Martha's vineyard and saw the most beautiful proposal! You and Dr. R gonna get going on that soon? Aly has been talking about going to y'alls wedding since she met ya!" Mike gives a playful wink.

"Oh, congratulations! That's wonderful and send Aly my best wishes. But you'll have to talk to E on that one," she laughs before opening the door to a stairwell that leads to a classified area.

After keying in her pin, the door clicks open. She grabs a static protection lab coat, walks through the entrance, and is met with a plethora of state-of-the-art equipment. Floor-to-ceiling grey switch panels, curved monitors as far as the eye can see, and countless probes, clips, and wires.

She walks over to a few familiar faces. “Good morning! How’s it going?”

“Nice of you to finally join us! Dr. Ramsey keep you this morning?” Isla, one of the engineers, jests.

“I saw your check-in on the monitor — you walked in two minutes before me!”

“Those diagnostic skills at work, I see,” Isla retorts and they both laugh.

Isla had become a fast and faithful friend since Serena joined the project. They bonded quickly over both being minorities in the world of science and supported each other in every work facet. They had lunch together everyday and gradually, their work bond grew into a personal friendship as well. They’ve become so close that Isla now also regularly spends time with the original Edenbrook gang.

“Alright, enough chit chat. Let’s get this show on the road.”

The team nods and responds, “Yes, Doctor.”

~ 12:00pm ~

Serena exits the classified area with some colleagues and they all make their way to retrieve their phones.

"No new patients. Stuck in meetings and doing paperwork. I miss you and wish you were here."

She immediately breaks out into a large grin after reading Ethan's text and hits the dial button.

"Hey, ready for lunch?" Carmen, one of the lead scientists, asks.

Serena nods and moves her phone slightly away from her ear. "Be there in a minute. You guys go ahead."

She waits for a few more rings. He’s probably busy, I’ll call again later. She hangs up and makes her way to the cafeteria.

~ 12:40pm ~

"We did all the necessary prep work this morning to begin testing after lunch. Everything is looking good. We can begin running our tests since everyone is here. Are we all ready to begin?"

"Yes."

The system engineers are sitting at connected computer stations, inputting the required credentials to start. The rest of the team is standing behind them, waiting and nervously watching the screens. After a couple minutes of tense silence with nothing but the clack clack clack of keyboard keys, Vincenzo, one of the lead engineers, speaks up.

"This is weird… we're having some trouble accessing the necessary data. Did someone put up a firewall?"

Everybody looks around at each other, shaking their heads and muttering "no."

"Isla, are you seeing this? Can you get through?"

Isla continues to type, not saying anything. After a few more seconds, she turns to look at Vincenzo with a concerned expression. "I don't recognize some of the items in our system."

Just as she finishes her sentence, everyone's attention is pulled abruptly to a wall monitor on the right as it starts showing nonsensical images and patterns. Two seconds later, an alarm goes off and a red warning light begins flashing within the building. Everyone's eyes go wide as realization dawns on them: they've been compromised and shelter-in-place has been activated.

~ 12:55pm ~

Everyone begins to evacuate the classified lab area, grabbing their phones on the way out, and peering through the one-way windows. They can occasionally hear Mike speaking rapidly into the phone with a 911 dispatcher, when he's not being drowned out by shouts from colleagues.

On the descent to the bunker, the tension is palpable. Individuals clutch onto each other, others try frantically to reach loved ones, and some are in complete disbelief and shock. As they all descend the five flights of the winding staircase to the basement, windows are no longer available, but the ceiling bulbs keep flickering on and off. Each time it happens, everyone stops in their tracks, ducks down on instinct, and picks up the pace when the lights come back on.

~ 1:15pm ~

The entrance to the Harvard labs bunker is protected by a vault door that has a counter system. When the system is in place, the door can be opened once for people to get in. Once it's been closed, it can only be opened when there's one person on either side working together — it's futile with only one person. The only other way it can be opened is by shutting down the counter system from the outside, with the correct override pin, which only a handful of the most trusted team members know.*

As the vault door comes into sight, the wheel on the outside is turned, and the door opens with a whoosh. People slowly start filing in and head towards the back. However, not everyone can stay in the safety of the bunker. In case of an emergency, the project they’re working on must be erased, to protect it from falling into the wrong hands. Certain people have been assigned particular instructions to delete specific portions.

Serena is one of them.

She's walking next to Isla and their arms are looped together. As Isla enters the bunker, Serena lets go of her arm, stopping at the threshold. Isla whips her head around.

"What are you doing?! Get in here!" She reaches for Serena’s arm.

Serena shakes her head. "I'm the only one currently here who knows the medical codes."

Isla's eyes are frantic in realization. "I'll go back with you! I'll be your lookout! You're not going alone!"

"You'll be safe here. This is my responsibility."

Serena reaches behind her neck and unclasps her gold necklace for the first time in 7 years. She grabs Isla's hand and places the jewelry into her palm, closing Isla's fingers around it.

Serena stares at their clasped hands. "In case anything happens," they both flinch at another flickering of lights. "Promise me that you'll get this to E."

Their eyes are locked now, having a silent battle: Isla begging her to stay and Serena finding the strength not to.

"Isla, promise me. Please." Serena squeezes Isla’s hand that much tighter.

Isla realizes that there's no use in fighting Serena. Risking her life to delete the project is part of the job. They all made a commitment and if the roles were reversed, Isla would be the one fighting to go back.

Isla slowly nods. "I promise, Serena. I promise. But do your best to keep yourself safe. Try and stay near the corners, away from any large equipment that could have aftershock effects, and—"

Serena shakes her slightly. "I know, Isla. We did take the same training," she smiles, trying to make a joke to lighten the mood, but Isla just stares gravely at her.

A booming sound rattles the building and Serena knows it's time to go. She gives Isla a quick hug, before pushing her backwards into the bunker. Before Isla has regained her footing, Serena has closed the bunker door with a resounding thud.

~ 1:30pm ~

On the way back to the classified area, Serena takes out her phone. Ethan hasn't returned her earlier call. Her heart is pounding and with trembling hands, she hits the call button on Ethan's contact card for the second time in less than two hours. After a few rings, his voice comes through.

"You've reached Dr. Ethan Ramsey. I apologize for missing your call. Leave a message and I'll get back to you."

Just as she’s about to start speaking, the lights go down for good. "Hey E," she tries her best to keep her voice from shaking. She puts the call on speaker, places the phone out in front of her, and turns the flashlight on. "I don't know when this will hit the news, but we're currently under cyberattack. I don't know from who or what, but they’ve already gotten into our mainframe and power supply. Everyone has sheltered-in-place and is awaiting further instructions." She takes a deep breath as she inches down a corridor.

"Everyone except me, Vincenzo, and Carmen. We’re the only three here right now trained to completely delete the project in the event something like this happened. I'm walking back to the lab as I speak."

Serena rounds a corner and the lab comes into view. Thinking about what she has to say next, silent tears stream down her face.

"Ethan, sweetheart, I need you to know that the last eight months by your side have been the absolute best eight months of my entire life. You are the light of my existence and mean everything to me." She lets out a deep breath. "I wish I could hear your voice right now… I'm really scared. But I made a commitment, so I need to go back in and finish the job. If something happens, know that you are unequivocally the love of my life and the one for me. I know we haven't talked about it yet, but know that I want to spend forever with you as your wife and have you be the father of my children." She sniffs and continues, "you would be a fantastic husband and dad."

She comes to a stop in front of the keypad located right outside the lab and swallows past the lump in her throat. "But if the universe has other plans for me, I'll be waiting for you and I can't wait to spend forever with you in the next life. This isn't how I wanted to tell you, but until next time, whenever that is, I love you so much, Ethan Jonah Ramsey, more than words could ever properly convey."

She ends the phone call with tear-filled eyes, stashes her phone on a nearby workbench, punches in her key, and enters the classified area one more time.

~~~~~~

*Disclaimer: I have no idea if Harvard labs has a bunker and if they do, what kind of door/system they utilize. This is all purely AU!

[irondadfics]

I’m looking for fanfics where Peter is Tony’s biological child and he goes missing/gets kidnapped as a young child. He is raised by someone else and doesn’t know he’s Tony’s son. I’ve already read Lost Boy and Things I Almost Remember on archive of our own and I wanted to find stories with a similar plot.

WHEW! It’s kind of a long list, but we did our best finding several fics that feature both BioDad!Tony and Peter being kidnapped at a very young age. ENJOY!!

PETER IS TONY’S SON BUT THEY WERE SEPARATED WHEN PETER WAS A CHILD REC LIST

Lost Boy by winterda

Isaac Stark disappeared from a crowded park a few months shy of his third birthday. There were never any signs of him, and no arrest were ever made in connection to the case. It was as if the toddler had simply vanished off the face of the earth. Twelve years later, Peter Parker has a really bad day, which only get worse when his prints are put through the system.

Things I Almost Remember by IcedAquarius @icedaquarius31​

Peter's past is not as it appears. It all starts one day with a genetics project and slowly spirals into something Peter never could have imagined.

hydra's not a home by tempestaurora @tempestaurora​

At 6 years old, the son of Tony and Pepper Stark, Peter, is kidnapped, never to be seen again. Or, so they thought. Ten years later, while raiding a HYDRA base, the Avengers come across a new, enhanced individual, working for the enemy: in black spandex, with a tendency to stick to walls and shoot webs from his wrists, the Black Spider is a pain in the ass in more ways than one.

If They Knew All About You by MsHermia

Tony Stark had lost his son when he was only 2 years old, stolen away in broad daylight with nobody the wiser of what exactly happened. Years later, Tony has just made it through the disaster with Ultron. He is trying to keep himself and the team together but relationships are strained and tempers are running high. Then a random turn of events leads to his path crossing with that of a particular vigilante. They are strangers to each other, or so they think.

Peter Parker is on top of the world. After a few shitty years, losing his parents and then losing his Uncle, things are finally looking up. Sure he lives in a crappy little apartment with his Aunt but he might have just found his mission in life.

------

This is an AU story obvious by some of the tags. I'm starting out a few weeks after Age of Ultron took place. Civil War will be a thing. Other than that I'm not too concerned about sticking to every canon detail and storyline.

Finding Their Way Home by ElliahRose

Peter Benjamin-Edward Stark went missing on a Tuesday. For months the entirety of the New York police department, as well as anyone else the Starks could convince to join, searched for the tot. He was only three when he was taken and for four months, two weeks, and four days, Tony Stark and Pepper Stark (nee Potts) worried and fretted over their beloved child.

Peter Benjamin-Edward Stark was murdered on a Friday. A ransom call gone wrong spelt the end of the child’s life. The world grieved as the kidnappers gleefully told the devastated parents they’d find his body in the morning.

They never did.

Twelve years passed and the family was still grieving, and Tony Stark worked tirelessly to find his only child’s killer and gain justice for his son.

Meanwhile Peter Parker was having literally the worst day ever. He just wanted to help make the world a better place, but instead he got stabbed. That's just his luck, isn't it?

missing, presumed dead by hailingstars @hailing-stars

They hadn’t had a funeral for Peter.

There hadn’t been a casket or a service inside a church.

There had been, before Tony decided in his heart that Peter was gone, candlelight vigils and pleas on the media for whoever had taken him to bring him home. Neither of those did any good. Neither of those brought Peter home.

OR

Tony Stark's son gets kidnapped when he's two. Twelve years later he comes back.

I told you to be better (and you became the best) by HaruK

Tony was blessed with a healthy baby boy, and for once in his life, was actually happy. Until everything derailed and he had to send his son away to keep him safe, because those related to the Stark family, one of the worlds biggest and most targeted families in the black market, always end up hurt. With a new name and identity that Tony himself doesn't know, the young baby was wiped off the map, his existence erased, never to be heard of again. . Years later, Anti-hero Iron Man meets a local superhero vigilante and Tony becomes surprisingly close with young Peter Parker.

The Curly-Haired Boy In The Paper by Svn_f1ower @svn-f1ower​

When Tony sees the blurry, grey scale photograph of someone he thought he had lost years ago, he follows the trail to a newspaper company, to a hospital, to an adoption agency, to the police station and finally to May Parker's house.

hold him tight & don’t let go by jessicagoddamnjones @farremoved

Peter Stark went missing when he was four years old.

Eleven years later, he’s found.

Only now he’s Peter Parker by day, Spider-Man by night, and he doesn’t like the idea that his entire life is a lie.

Rise from the Ashes; Just to See You Again by Mintstream @iwritedumbshit​

Tony Stark didn't expect Mary Fitzpatrick, or the news she delivered. He didn't expect that he would become a father, or that he would actually enjoy it. He didn't expect Penny to love him just as fiercely as he did her.

He didn't expect to lose her so soon.

In the wake of the loss of his daughter he tried--tried to do right by her. He became Iron Man, he was an Avenger, he protected his world because he couldn't protect his daughter, but through it all, he hoped to be reunited with his daughter.

He didn't expect to be alive when he was.

AKA the biological daughter kidnapping AU no one asked for. Hope you read, and hope you enjoy.

Updates on Saturdays.

Coming Home by inkinmyheartandonthepage

AU – Peter Stark was kidnapped when he was just three years old. Tony and Pepper never stopped looking for their boy. Years later, Peter finds his way back home.

A Change In What We Knew by Imissyoutoo @imissyoutoo

Tony scoured the floor behind Steve as though his one-year-old son had somehow crawled to him, before finally, he looked up. The realisation dawned on him like an eclipse; the decaying darkness hiding the sun. Hiding his son. Because his boy wasn't there.

”Where is he? Steve? Where's my son Rogers?!” At only a year old, Tony Stark’s son is taken, leaving him shattered. Little does he know, his journey to find what is lost only begins twelve years later. In the most unlikely of places, and all because of two words.

”Hey kid.”

I Found You by honestchick

Tony had a son; he raised him for two years until someone kidnapped him. Tony was devastated and heartbroken. And who would have thought in Starks Expo, he’d be able to see his son once again?

move back home forever by chasingflower @evahmohns

The results say he’s not actually Peter Parker.

They say he’s Peter Stark. You know, the one who’s been missing for 10 years.

Yeah. He knows.

Soon You'll Get Better by lostinmorewaysthan1

Peter Stark was kidnapped. That was all anyone knew. He vanished into thin air, no traces left behind, when he was eight years old.

Six years later, on one of the final raids on the HYDRA bases, they find an enhanced assassin, with super strength and the ability to climb walls. No one imagined that it would be Peter. Least of all Tony.

With no memory and brainwashed by HYDRA, Peter Stark goes home and tries to recover.

Let This Road Be Mine by CommunicationFlail

Ten years ago, five year old Peter Stark disappeared. When the trail went cold, the case was closed. Now new evidence has been brought to light and Tony will stop at nothing to get his son back. No matter how many fakes he has to meet. His son is out there, and he will find him.

Return to me, the one I love so endlessly by SuperHeroTiger @superherotiger

James Edwin Stark was born on the 10th of August 2001, and for the first time in his life, Tony Stark cried tears of joy.

All the fears, all the dread that had once consumed his soul washed away with a single look at the baby’s gentle features, so familiar and yet so distinctly unique at the same time. Tony made many promises that day. Promises to love his son, to protect him, to always be there for him.

On the 10th of August 2002, James Edwin Stark was stolen in the middle of the night, and his father’s world came crashing down. Shattered and alone, Tony whispered the same promise he’d made to his son the day that he was born.

‘…My love for you is endless…’

Fourteen years later, hidden away from the world in a forest of pine, Peter Beck would dream of a day he might get to see the towering city of New York. And when a wounded stranger stumbles onto their property a week out from his birthday claiming to be a famous billionaire from New York, his dream might just come true.

Once Lost Now Found by FreckledAvenger11

Peter Parker was just trying to get used to life without his uncle. He wasn't expecting to find a familiar face in an article about Tony Stark's missing son. Follow Peter on his journey to discover just who he is. Is he Peter Parker? Is he Spider-Man? Or is he someone else entirely? Just who is he and what secrets died along with his parents in that plane crash?

So He Walks The World Alone by Miola014

This is a story 'bout a broken boy With his headphones in just to block out the noise Of everyone around him telling him the way to go So he walks the world alone Wondering if it gets better Or if he's always gonna feel empty forever So he gets lost tryna find another way back home As he walks the world alone

Or

The Kidnapped Peter Stark AU that I promised y'all!

[allaboutthebooz]

Still Learning Pt. Two

Summary: After having everything stolen from her, the reader meets Bucky and they form a relationship, that works for the both of them. She needs money and he needs the company. There are rules that need to be followed. What will happen when the rules are broken?

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: drinking, unwanted attention

A/N: Happy Easter, y'all! I hope you enjoy my gift to you! You can catch up here!

“I don’t need to get out more, Sam. I get out enough.” Bucky gripes to his teammate as they step off the plane after they land.”

“Going out on missions and to the restaurants by your apartment, isn’t considered going out man.” Sam explains.

“I had a date a few weeks ago.”

“Yeah, which you literally ran out on.”

“Well-“

“No, no more excuses. We’re going out tonight. After this long ass week, we could both use some down time. We’re going, end of story.” Sam solidifies with a smile n his face, but sternness in his voice.”

“You’re a real pain in my ass.” Bucky tells him.

“Someone’s got to be.” Sam claps him on the shoulder, before walking away. “I’ll meet you outside of your apartment at eight!” he shouts over his shoulder.

“Eight?! Can’t it be sooner?”

Sam turns back towards him but keeps walking. “Just because you’re 106, doesn’t mean you have to act like it! Eight! Be ready1” He turns the corner for the airstrip entrance and then he’s gone.

“I’m too old for this.” Bucky says, hanging his head.

A month after everything was taken from you, thanks to your good for nothing, asshole of an ex-boyfriend, you find yourself sitting in a packed bar with the girls.

You didn’t have the money to do anything, saving what you can, which isn’t much. You were still trying to get your life back together. Your credit was ruined, but was on its way back to normal, somewhat. That would take a long time though. The police were supposed to be looking for Matt, but he was on the bottom of the list of criminals.

The bank told you that there wasn’t anything that they could do about the money that was taken from your account, since Matt was given authorization to the account, in case something happened to you. They simply said that since is name was on the account, the money was his too. You were currently trying to get that overrules, but you don’t know how long that would take.

On top of everything else, your job has been outsourcing your shoots to temporary photographers and using you less. It was cheaper apparently. That meant that your steady income, has dwindled by half. You were having a hard time paying your bills and knew that you were on the verge of being evicted from your apartment. Even though you had explained to your landlord what happened, there was only so much he could do to help.

Deanna and Lexie have been wanting to go out, to help take your mind off of things, but going out just reminded you that you have no money to spend. When you told them that, they just told you not to worry about it. They made you get dressed and dragged you out of your apartment. Now, you sat at the bar, while both of them danced for a bit. Dwelling on your thoughts while you sipped on your whiskey sour.

Bucky walked into the crowded bar behind Sam, following him to the bar top to order drinks. Both men nodding to the bartender when he holds up two fingers, signaling that he would be with them soon.

“You know we could have gotten drinks at a quieter place, right?” Bucky nags.

“What fun is that? Besides, there are plenty of ladies to choose from.”

“Ladies to choose from?” Bucky questions. “You’re better than that, Sam. Show some respect.”

“True, but you know what I’m talking about. It’ll be good to mingle.” Sam tells him.

“I don’t need to ‘mingle.’ I don’t have time.”

Truthfully, Bucky did have the time. What he didn’t tell Sam was that he had his own means of finding a companion. He has more money than he will ever need. When Tony died, he left them all with a good chunk of cash.

Along the way during his recovery, he learned a lot about what he could do with the money. He invested a lot of it in companies that he believed would be successful and he was right. He had an accountant to help him keep track of everything and he was the only person who knew about his “companions.”

It’s not that Bucky didn’t trust Sam to understand how he spent his money or how he got laid on a normal basis. He just knew he would never hear the end of it. From what he learned; society wasn’t too fond of those types of relationships. The kind of relationships where you paid someone to go out with you and spend time with them. People looked at it as a “sugar” relationship. Bucky just called it having someone on his payroll to be his friend outside of the chaotic world he lived in.

Lame, he knows, but with his past he found it hard for anyone to want to be his friend. He rarely saw anyone outside of work, which was why Same dragged him out tonight. They talked for a bit, before Sam caught sight of someone more interested and excused himself.

He leaned his side against the bar, take a pull from the beer in his hand. He looks around the crowded room, observing those around him. He notices a few women glancing at him, trying to be coy and slyly get his attention. He easily looked past them, his eyes continuing their scan. They land on another woman. This time she wasn’t trying to get his attention.

She looked like she would rather be anywhere but here. She kept her gaze on the bar in front of her. Whatever she was drinking, resting in the glass that was gently grasped between her hands. She was beautiful. She was only a few stools away from where he was standing. He could see a guy on her right, trying to make conversation and even though she wasn’t looking at him, Bucky could see her nod or shake her head and her lips move every now and then.

Bucky wasn’t sure if they were together, not until he saw her shrink in on herself and try to lean away from the guy. She was trying to get away from him but didn’t want to be rude. Pushing himself off the bar and leaving his drink behind, he made the choice to try and help her.

Sliding next to her on her other side, he makes himself know. “Hey, babe. Sorry I’m late. Traffic was brutal.”

The woman turns her gaze towards him, and his heart stutters. Her eyes growing a little wide, in wonder.

“Who are you?” The guy on her right asks.

“Her boyfriend. Who the hell are you?” bucky counters, narrowing his eyes at the dude.

“Adam. I was just keeping her company. She looked lonely.”

“Well Adam, I’m here now. So, you can go bug someone else.” Bucky gently puts a hand on the junction where her shoulder and neck meet, keeping his hand on her jean jacket, but making it look intimate enough.

The douchebag looks from Bucky to the woman. “He really with you?”

She brings her hand up to grasp Bucky’s and his skin burns from her touch. “Of course, he is. Why would some random guy, pose as my boyfriend?” She asks. Her voice even, leveling her gaze at Adam.

“Whatever. Thanks for wasting my time.” The guy huffs before walking away to find his next victim.

The woman turns back to Bucky. “Thanks. I kept trying to not show him any interest, but I guess he couldn’t take the hint.”

“Yeah, I could tell. Thought you could use some help.” Bucky says, dropping his hand and missing her touch already.

“I’m Y/N.” She tells him.

“Bucky.”

“Nice to meet you. Bucky.” She smiles at him.

“You too, Y/N.” He likes how her name sounds rolling off his tongue. “Well, I’ll leave you to enjoy your alone time.”

“Or you could let me buy you a drink as my way of thanking you.”

“Or I could buy YOU a drink?”

“Or you could buy me a drink. That works too.”

Bucky smiles at her and waves to the bartender.

TAGS:

Marvel- @shreddedparchment

Forevers- @jamielea81 @dnnwnchstr22 @also-fangirlinsweden

*If you would like to added to the tag list, please send me an ask. I am able to keep up with them better that way!

[who-talks-first]

The Torture of Small Talk With Someone You Used to Love

(or T’es la Plus Belle Saison de Ma Vie)

I haven't written a poe x reader stand-alone in... Two years? Y'all be gentle with me.

I was singing "Fourth of July" by Fall Out Boy, then over the course of a shower I had completely composed this in my head, including all the dialogue. Stuff kept happening, so I didn't get to my phone until later, but by then, I had forgotten a whole bunch of the original dialogue. U_U

I kept true to my original inspiration, but it doesn't have the same flow as it did in my head under the spray, lol. I'm sorry it got so dialogue heavy. Poe and Reader just had so much to get off their chests!

You don't have to listen to the song, but it really sets the mood, and you can understand my inspiration.

Rated Older Teen for suggestive dialogue and some swearing. Content warning for references to past consensual sex between two minors (nothing explicit, just mentioning in case that squicks you!).

Around 2700 words. Drama, angst, romance, a tiny pinch of fluff. A whole assload of made up stuff that wasn't necessary for the story but created some atmosphere and legitimacy.

Set a few months after The Last Jedi during the Resistance's struggle to recover.

My A/N are almost as long as the actual story. I suck lol. Again, please be gentle; I'm so rusty. But please enjoy. I'm proud of this. I feel it's very romantic and engaging. I hope you agree. Thanks so much, guys! Love ya!

The skyrockets burst in colorful blossoms across the jet-black sky, hundreds of revelers dancing and singing below. They were celebrating the summer solstice on the planet you now found yourself on, the name of which you had already forgotten before you arrived; another stop on the endless quest for support as the Resistance dangled by a thread.

You and Poe Dameron, your partner on this mission - and four of the last six identical ones - were awaiting the arrival of your liason, someone close to the monarchy of... Here... who promised backchannel support of the struggling Resistance. The contact was delayed by a minor catastrophe regarding the celebration, so the two of you decided to rest for the evening and enjoy the view.

Sitting side by side on the soft, green grass on the side of a hill overlooking the reverie, you sat in silence, tuning in and out of the joyous cacophony as you watched the elaborate skyrocket display.

You felt the question before he asked it.

"Remember the summer festivals back home?" said Poe, softly breaking the silence, his voice wistful.

"Yep."

"Do you remember - " 

"Every detail," you said, swallowing and solemnly fixing your eyes on him.

Bright colors illuminated the side of his face, sparkling in his eyes, softly reflecting on the curls that still shone; the last eight months had taken their toll on the once youthful face of the boy you grew up with.

He cracked a half-grin, his eyes, soft and warm, taking you in.

You knew what he was thinking. You were thinking about it too, but in a completely different way.

You blinked and those brown eyes, exactly as they are now, save for the weary lines at the corners, were those of your first love, your best friend growing up, a vibrant boy of sixteen, looking at you like you were a celestial being personified in a red-cheeked, loud-mouthed spitfire of fifteen, a completely different display of skyrockets sparkling in his eyes.

You felt the deep ache in your chest that you felt every time you remembered that period of your lives, particularly that one night. You felt the damp grass on your back, the tenderness and reverence in Poe's touch, the weight of his body, and that beautiful trembling fear of what you were doing among the ruins, at the edge of the jungle, in the dark.

You closed your eyes and turned away from him, unable to stand the pain and bitterness.

"It was something wonderful between us, wasn't it, baby?" Poe asked, the smile in his voice unmistakable.

You sighed. Even his pet name for you, given long before your romantic relationship, hurt to hear. You don't remember exactly what you were crying about, crouched in the sand behind the primary school, but you remember the sound of eight-year-old Poe's voice as he said, "Hey, little baby, why are you crying?" How someone could be both derisive and so concerned at the same time baffled you. But the nickname stuck for the next twenty-five or so years.

You couldn't help the bitterness in your voice when you said, "It wasn't just teenage love and lust between us then."

He looked at you quizzically, his brow furrowed.

"We had hope, youthful hubris, an ambitious naiveté that makes you think that you can do anything," you concluded, vaguely gesturing with your hand.

Poe was silent for a long moment, regarding your statement, your face, the painful tension in the air between you.

When he spoke, you weren't sure you had ever heard his voice so soft, so fearful. He swallowed. 

"And now? What's between us now?"

The expanse of the entire galaxy, you wanted to say. Ten years of worry and resentment. Nostalgia for a moment in time that can never be replaced or recreated. A war.

But you knew that's not what he was asking. What still remained of what was once between you?

You took a moment to contemplate your answer. You wanted to be honest without hurting Poe. There really wasn't much left at all.

"Nothing that matters," you said, turning away from him. You couldn't help the spite in your tone as you added, "Not that it ever did."

You felt Poe's breathing still beside you for a long, agonizing beat. He rose wordlessly and shuffled down the hill in the dark, hands in his pockets.

You sighed, smacking your forehead in your palms. You got up, stretching your legs to regain circulation, and followed him.

"Poe," you called softly. "Poe, I'm sorry. I fucked up."

You found him in a low place between the hills, in a little copse of trees and taller grass. The skyrocket display was still visible, but the sounds of the celebration were muffled by the hillside.

Poe's back was to you, one hand in his jacket pocket, one pressed to his face.

"I shouldn't have said that," you said, dropping your arms to your sides, audibly so that Poe could hear your gesture.

He raked his fingers roughly through his hair, mussing the almost-coifed curls more into their natural shape, as he turned to face you. You weren't prepared for how sad he looked.

"Say it again," said Poe, taking a challenging step towards where you stood a bit above him on the hillside. "Say we never mattered."

"I didn't mean it like that," you groaned.

"Then how - " he started, his voice cracking ever so slightly, " - how did you mean it?"

The Poe a few steps below you was so different from the one you sat beside not ten minutes before. The bright colors in the sky only served to contrast his bleak affect. There was his age. There was the war-weary soldier. He looked like you had felt for the last year.

"It doesn't matter because..." you began, trailing off. "Nothing matters anymore. It's only this mission, and then the next, then the next." 

"What do you mean?" asked Poe, confusion blending into the pain on his face.

You swallowed, wondering when it got so stuffy out here.

"It doesn't matter if I love you or hate you, if we're friends or anything else. It doesn't matter how abandoned I still feel. Because there is no 'us' as lovers. The only 'us' is the Resistance. And we can only keep fighting until we're worn down to nothing. There's nothing else."

All the other mixed emotions melted from Poe's face as he shifted his weight around, slowly replaced with understanding. He let out a quiet, mirthless laugh.

"You really have lost all hope, huh?" he finally said, looking up at you.

"It's exhausting. Constant planet skipping, begging for help. The First Order's brutality and resilience. Leia's health. The losses, Poe!"

"Don't think for a second that I don't feel those losses!" he said, probably sharper than he meant to, raising his hand to point at you.

"You feel them more than most of us, Poe," you sighed. "That's my point. There's nothing left for us but more and more loss."

You hoped he couldn't hear the tears threatening to break through.

Poe forced an unconvincing smile.

"Leia says - "

"I don't give a damn about the sun, Poe!" you yelled, mentally recoiling at the thought of the saccharine metaphor you knew was on the tip of his tongue. "Don't you feed me that line, not after what Holdo did to us, how she died. Don't you dare say it!"

"We've already made it through the night, though, baby," said Poe softly, taking a cautious step towards you. "Crait was midnight. The sun is on the horizon now, don't you see?" 

You shook your head. "All I see now is darkness."

"Even when you look at me?"

You could only shrug at that. There weren't enough data cards in the galaxy to list what you saw in him.

Poe scoffed.

"No hope, huh? So when Rey's face appeared through those rocks, saving us from certain death, you didn't feel hope burning like the sun?" he asked, miming the rocks moving. "When those rocks parted, I wanted to run over, grab her, and kiss her. I was so grateful."

"Finn did it for you," you said, managing a small smile.

"Yeah," said Poe. "His gratitude was more for her safety than for the salvation of the Resistance. But I don't hold that against him. It's always been about Rey for Finn. You get that, right?"

Tiny sparkles of pink and green appeared between you and the trees, and you realized that Poe was staring at you, waiting for you to speak.

"Yeah, I guess," you finally said, shrugging.

"And you can't see why I had to join the navy?" he said, holding one hand up, indicating a point you couldn't see.

"Because you're good and will always fight for the light," you said simply. 

"You're as dumb now as you were back then, baby. That's always a huge part of it, fighting for the light. But making the galaxy a safe, beautiful place for you was always in the front of my mind. When I saw what the First Order was doing, I was furious. Furious at their cruelty, for their principles, for endangering the life I had planned for us," said Poe, forcefully.

"Us?" you repeated, confused.

"I had to go with Leia to make sure that there would be an end, a peace for us to live," he said, moving closer to you. "For things to go back to the way they were."

"I... I didn't..." you mumbled, shaking your head.

"So three years of promising you everything? Talking about where we would live, how many kids we'd have, what we wanted to spend the rest of our lives doing? That's just...?" said Poe, trailing off as he gestured vaguely.

You regained your composure, and your bitterness. Your hands found your hips.

"I let that all fade with my juvenile concept of love. I knew we'd never be together again. I often wondered if I would ever even see you again," you snapped. "When you joined the navy, I saw that as the end of us."

Poe sighed, hanging his head, his fingers moving to his brow.

"I didn't realize you felt that way, baby," he whispered.

"Yeah? Well, when was the last time we even talked to one another?" you said, trying not to shout.

"We talk all the time," said Poe, defensively.

"Not about personal stuff. We talk about missions and plans and people and ships and Leia. When was the last time we talked?" you repeated. 

Poe sighed again.

"We caught up when we joined the Resistance, but before that... My graduation?" he admitted tentatively.

You nodded, feeling the tears prick your eyes now.

"You tried to keep me up to date with your life in the navy," you said shakily. "But by the second year, the messages stopped coming and I saw that as a message itself. You'd moved on with your life." 

"Aw, baby," said Poe, his body language betraying his guilt. "I'm so sorry. I have no excuse for letting you slip away like that, but I swear on all the stars in the sky I never stopped thinking about you, living for you, loving you!"

"I had no idea what you were doing or where you were when I decided to join the Resistance," you said. You laughed softly and said, "I knew it was what you would do in my place."

Poe shared your little laugh, waiting for you to finish. 

You sniffled and continued, "When I stepped off that lander and found you had arrived the day before..."

"I knew it was destiny," said Poe, quickly, perhaps a little too emphatically.

You rolled your eyes, but he continued, "I believed that the Force had brought you back to me so we could fight this fight together."

You frowned and looked away for a moment.

"I had no idea how you felt, how you'd been feeling since I left. If I'd had an inkling, baby, I would have had you come live at the barracks with me," said Poe, looking expectantly up at you.

"Smartass," you grumbled. "Only spouses can li..." 

Poe smiled. You furrowed your brow and studied his face.

"I had planned on waiting 'til I had made upper officer and could afford to support us both, but if it would have kept us together, I would have happily married you then," he said, smiling wistfully.

"I've been hurting a long time, Poe," you said, unable to think of any more advanced arguments.

"I know, baby," he said, only a foot between you now. "And I'm so, so sorry. All I'm asking is if there's anything left between us but resentment and hurt."

You hid your face in your hands as a decade of tears caught up with you. Poe took you in his arms without hesitation as you gave in to sobs. When you said something through the wet and his shirt, he pulled you back a bit.

"What was that, baby?" 

You sniffled and said, between two big sobs, "I never stopped loving you."

Poe smiled affectionately as he said, "I never doubted it. But I needed to hear it. I love you like a dumb farm kid loves the prettiest girl in school." 

"Who the fuck is sh-she?" you sobbed. 

Poe barked out a laugh that shook you, squeezing you tightly to his chest. You hid your face so he wouldn't see you grinning through your tears.

"All I need is half a chance to ace a mission," he said, rubbing lazy circles across your back. "Tell me I got something."

"It's more than a chance," you sniffled, resting your chin on his shoulder, holding him as tight now as he did you. "But it won't be easy."

"Nothing worth doing is," said Poe, holding you out to look you over. "And have I ever done anything easy?"

You were unable to prevent the vulgar snort that escaped when you said, "Me!"

Poe spun you around joyfully as your laughter reverberated around the valley, bouncing around the echoes of the skyrockets.

"I said nothing worth doing is easy, baby," he said, squeezing you so tight you thought you would pass out.

For just a moment, you were teenagers again, filled with hope, bursting with love like the lights in the sky.

You watched the lights in Poe's eyes a long time before noticing he kept looking at your mouth.

"Are you for real, right now?" you asked dryly.

His voice was solemn though when he said, "I feel like I'm gonna die if I don't."

You didn't have a quip to counter that. You were dumbstruck by the tender look on his face. You smiled softly and leaned in, brushing your nose against the side of his.

Poe closed his eyes and smiled for a moment before pressing his mouth to yours. Firmly at first, in his enthusiasm, then softly as he relearned your shape and feel and taste.

You had forgotten how soft and beautiful a kiss was when backed by such powerful affection. It was dizzying. You grew unsteady on your feet, but Poe held you tightly, tipping you back like in the dramas.

You looked up and saw the last skyrocket burst behind his head, marking the end of the celebration with a giant blossom of gold sparks. The night was suddenly quiet and dark.

You found yourself laying in the grass, Poe holding you against him, kissing you deeply.

You held his face in your hands and said, "It won't be like the first time." 

"Why?" he asked, suddenly solemn.

"Skyrocket show is over," you said, grinning and nodding towards the empty sky.

Poe's face went from surprise to annoyance to pure seduction in the span of three seconds.

"We can make our own," he purred, tickling your sides until you squealed.

The only sound in the night was your giddy laughter as you rolled around in the grass, kissing and teasing each other to the point of whimsy.

Maybe you weren't kids carving your initials in a blackbark tree at the edge of the Damerons' koyo field. You would never be that way again. But maybe what you were making now was more important, more enduring: a bond built on trust, love, experience, honesty. Indelibly etching your names on the new galaxy you would rebuild together. It wouldn't be easy by any means. But if Poe refused to give up on you, you'd be damned if you gave up on him.

[eggos-world]

Complainers (A MHA fanfic)

Midorya x Fem! Reader

(A/N : So this is my first fanfic EVER and I've really been into MHA for a while now and I LOVED reading all the fanfics, and I saw this particular ask to a blog if the reader had a writing quirk and how would Midorya and two other characters would react (I am so sorry I forgot the blog who wrote that) but I wanted to put my spin on it and make the reader be into slam poetry and let their tongue be their weapon. This particular poem is by Rudy Fransisco!! Not my original poem!! Hope y'all enjoy!)

When you write, it's like the whole world around you finally goes silent. You live out the daydreams in your own head feeling the words on the page a safe space. This was your quirk. Even if it didn't seem as great to be in combat fighting villains, at least it's something to fight your inner demons. That to you was enough.

Midorya was well use to the song and dance of getting you to snap out of your world when the bell rings, apologizing in advance. In truth he hates breaking your concentration, he knows full well that he hates the feeling being separated from writing his notes. But he knew you would sit there for hours on end just writing in your book, even if you finish it all in one go you wouldn't notice that you were writing on the desk. (And yes he had to get you out of there and insisted to clean it up for you). Even after all of this he still admired your quirk no less.

The bell had rung for lunch and everyone stood up and packed their books away and walked out one by one. You feel a tap on your shoulder not a minute later, and a familiar soft spoken voice breaks you from your concentration. " Hey, Y/N, I-Its time for lunch" He says with a smile and you close your book and packed it into your bag, walking with him side by side to the lunchroom.

"So what was today's story in your book?" He asked with a smile looking to you.

"Not a story today, I've been into poetry for a while. So I figured I might try something different. " You say smiling back.

"Woah, I didn't know you were into poetry. That seems really cool! What was it about? "

You were always so surprised that he was interested in your work. Since it was such a personal thing to you and you haven't really shown off your work due to self consciousness, he was always very supportive even from the beginning. Later on you realized that he also loved writing. That was one of the many things that formed a great friendship between you both, besides from your love of heroes and nerding out with each other of course!. You both carried out your conversation while getting your lunches. Sitting down on the table along with everyone else smiling and joking you all causally eat your meals. You pull out your notebook, sliding it over to Midorya to take a look after you promised him too. He smiles and opens to the bookmarked paged, but a soon as he does a hand flashes and snatches the book out of his hands.

"Please tell me you don't think your sorry excuse of a quirk would get you into the top ten!" Bakugou loudly exclaiming with a smug look.

Well shit.

While he was chuckling you were about to stand and get it back, but Midorya beat you to it trying to pry it off of his hands, but Bakugou only lifts it up higher. "What's your deal nerd? Trying to stick up for your little girlfriend?" He says chuckling louder.

"S-she's not my girlfriend kachan! Give back her book! It's not yours!" Midorya says with a blush forming on his face. But Bakugou shoves him away and faces you.

"What makes you think that writing fairytale lands and princesses would make you pro hero? That's not going to save you from the real world. What's going to happen if a villain comes in and starts destroying everything around you? You're gonna write him a love story with a happily ever after!? Give me a break! " He says with a laugh.

"Kachan! You need to stop this" Midorya says stepping back up to him. "Not everyone's quirk is perfect!"

"Heh! If you really think she could handle the world on her own-" He says before holding out the book "Let's give her a chance to prove me wrong! "

And just like that, your notebook, your work your safe haven was blown up to flames. Bits of burnt paper flown into the air, your book quickly into ashes. You didn't notice midorya quickly moving to get his water and put the fire out, your eyes was fixated on Bakugou. A smirk had formed on his face that made your heart sink into your stomach. A lump forming within your chest as you fought the urge to cry. He moved his arms and raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to make the next move. But you felt a hand around your arm.

"Y/N, you don't need this now. Let's just go-"

"No... " You say stepping up to Bakugou. Taking one last look at your destroyed book you turn your head back to him. "It's a shame, because the poem I was just writing... Was about you. " You say with a sad smile and a nod. He blinks back in surprise, his smirk growing larger than before. "That's not a good thing.. " You later say. Even though it was still in the works, even if you didnt get to finish it you felt your tongue burn. An unfamiliar sensation forming in your mouth. Usually you would feel it within your hand as you write, a soft glow transferring onto the words you'd write on the page. But now that feeling had made it's way from your throat and to your mouth.

And it's telling you to speak the fuck up.

You took a breath, looked him deep in the eye and let your mouth took the wheel.

"The following are true stories.

May 26th 2003 Aron Ralston was hiking, a boulder fell on his right hand. He waited four days, then amputated his arm with a pocket knife.

On New Year’s Eve, a woman was bungee jumping in Zimbabwe. The cord broke, she then fell into a river and had to swim back to land in crocodile infested waters with a broken collarbone.

Claire Champlin was smashed in the face by a five pound watermelon being propelled by a slingshot.

Matthew Brobst was hit by a javelin.

David Striegl was punched in the mouth. By a kangaroo.

The most amazing part about these stories is when asked about the experience they all smiled, shrugged, and said “I guess things could have been worse.”

So go ahead.

Tell me that you’re having a bad day.

Tell me about the traffic. Tell me about your boss. Tell me about the job you’ve been trying to quit for the past four years. Tell me the morning is just a town house burning to the ground and the snooze button is a fire extinguisher. Tell me the alarm clock stole the keys to your smile, drove it into 7:00 AM, and the crash totaled your happiness.

Tell me! Tell me!

Tell me, how blessed are we to have tragedies so small it can fit on the tips of our tongues?

You see, when Evan lost his legs he was speechless. When my cousin was assaulted, she didn’t speak for forty eight hours. When my uncle was murdered, we had to send out a search party to find my father’s voice.

Most people have no idea that tragedy and silence have the exact same address!

When your day is a museum of disappointments hanging from events that were outside of your control, when you find yourself flailing in an ocean of “Why is this happening to me?”, when it feels like your guardian angel put in his two week notice two months ago and just decided not to tell you, when it feels like God is just a babysitter that’s always on the phone, when you get punched in the esophagus by a fistful of life, remember that every year two million people die of dehydration so it doesn’t matter if the glass is half full or half empty, there’s water in the cup.

Drink it, and stop FUCKING complaining.

Muscle is created by repeatedly lifting things that have been designed to weigh us down. So when your shoulders feel heavy, stand up straight and lift your chin – call it exercise. When the world crumbles around you, you have to look at the wreckage and then build a new one out of the pieces that are still here.

Remember, you are still here.

The human heart beats approximately four thousand times per hour.

Each pulse, each throb, each palpitation is a trophy engraved with the words “You are still alive”...

You are still alive...

Act like it."

When you felt the sensation cool from your lips and the tip of your tongue, Bakugou's eyes were wide. His smirk had fallen. Silence filled around you, even from Midorya. Everyone has seen and heard the whole thing. Just as you were about to walk back to your table to grab your things and leave, you hear a slow clap. Then another. Then another. You turn your head to see everyone clapping and cheering. You smile a little. Bakugou steps back and walks off with a smack of his teeth.

"Tch, whatever weirdo.. " He mumbles under his breath.

You walked over to Midorya smiling and he quickly gives you a hug. "That was amazing! The way you kept firing words at kachan was incredible! I never seen him so speechless like that! " He pulls away with a smile and a blush.

"Oh hehe! It was nothing really" You say forming a blush yourself, looking away shyly.

"I'm really sorry about your notebook though. I could buy you another one and bring it to you tomorrow! "

"Oh no it's okay! I have extras at my house-"

"Nope! It's my treat." He smiles and the bell rings again, making everyone pack up and ready for the next class. Midorya grabs his bag and hands you yours. Making your way back into the building he stops you for a second. "Hey, speaking of treat, d-do you think we could both head out f-for some ice cream after school? " He says with a heavier blush and fiddles with his tie. He always did looked cute when he blushed. You smile and giggle a bit.

"I would love to.. "

(Woah hey! First fanfic done! Hope you all enjoyed that!! 🤣💕)

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Give In (Part II)

Idris Elba X Reader “Zanzee” Mini Series (6 Part Mini Series)

 Warning: Wild, wild thoughts, angst

 Word Count: 3.9K

 Summary: For the past 5 months has worked on the set of the “Hobbs & Shaw” movie. She works close to all the main actors and is there to answer any whim they may have as the "Set Concierge". She holds herself to a high professional level and refuses to stray from the right side of that pesky, thin grey line that those in the entertainment industry easily jump over.

 Note: Will go through 1 week in the life of Zanzee Grant. Y'all I’m afraid this is as close as I will EVER get to a one shot. SMH. I cannot write a one shot to save my life.

 ***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

 ***Interactive Chapter***(Click the links, I am not tryna get flagged)

 ****Thank you guys for reading. I appreciate it as ALWAYS! If you enjoyed this please LIKE and REBLOG. ❤️  ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tuesday

You opened your eyes and stared at the ceiling of your bedroom. You glanced at the clock; 4 AM. You groaned while closing your eyes. You were pulled back into the memory from last night. The memory of nearly knocking yourself out with the weight of Idris’…. You were at a loss as what to call it. You did know that it was meaty, the weight of it on your forehead told you that the rumors about him being called “Big Driis” were not exaggerations at all. You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip and released a low moan. Unconsciously your hand moved from their place atop the mattress and traveled across your stomach downward to the apex of your thighs.

Before you knew it your fingers had a mind of their own and were quickly working you to a release, a release with Idris on your mind. You thought about all the times over the last five months where the two of you interacted, the little touches that probably meant nothing, the smiles—god that man’s smile was something of pure godly power. He smiled, and it was clear to see how he could get any woman he pleased. Your breath caught in your throat forcing a strangled gasp from your lips, and it was then you felt the first stirs of your release. Your fingers sped up chasing the release your body so desperately wanted. You zeroed in on a memory of Idris changing.

You’d accidentally walked into his trailer with some rewrites and the new wardrobe and was in time to see him zipping up his leather pants still without a shirt. In your embarrassment, you quickly turned your back and apologized profusely. He was cool about it, but you’d had enough time to glance over the hardened plane of his eight pack and his mouth-watering obliques that dipped in giving those two chiseled lines that drove women crazy since the beginning of time.  It was there your memory lingered, and it was then your orgasm erupted through you. You screeched at the force of it surging through you and the ecstasy that followed.

 “Jesus!”

 Your body slowly returned to its normal temperature, and your heart rate slowed down. You swallowed painfully; it had taken everything out of you. You slowly sat up knowing you were not going to go back to sleep and knowing you were fucked. You’d be thinking about this all day. You got out of bed, stretched, walked to your music system and found your “wake up” playlist. You pressed play and began your routine. The loud music helped you push your dreams, and moments ago out your head and prepare for the long day ahead.

 By the time your chauffeured car pulled up to the lot you had thirty minutes to spare. You sat there a few moments longer and stared out the window at the hustle and bustle of set life. You closed your eyes and did some meditation breathing you’d learned. You focused and centered yourself and made a mental list of things to accomplish for the day.

 “My to-do list for today, and part of my to-do list for tomorrow, also a head start on the end of the week cast and crew dinner,” you recited.

 You’d been tasked with it yesterday as if you didn’t already have a lot to do. You sighed out once more, rolled your shoulders back and raised your head high. You stepped out the car and walked across the lost eyes forward and focused. A few people hurried to you holding out folders and stacks of paper, you took them all and skimmed them as you walked to your trailer. When you stepped inside you dropped your bags and took off your sweater and took another few seconds to practice your breathing.

 “You are a professional Z, pro-fes-inal,” you slowly enunciated.

 You took a sip from your latté cup and flipped through the pages you’d been given. It was all set changes, script changes, new requests, tasks to complete to ensure the shots for later in the day went off without a hitch and things of that sort. You heard a faint knock at the door and turned telling them to come in. Ethan stepped up into the trailer with a bright smile on his face.

 “Hey Z.

 You give him a friendly smile.

 “What’s up Ethan?”

 “Tonight, the rest of us were meeting up at Troy’s Pub to unwind, wanted to see if you wanted to come along.”

 You leaned against one of the tables, already feeling the word “no” form on your tongue.

 “Before you say no, think about it, see how the day plays out. Who knows, you might need it,” Ethan said. You nodded.

 “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

 He nodded with a smile as he turned to leave. Before he did, he stopped and smiled back to you.

 “You look good today Z.”

 As quickly as he said it, he was gone. You smirked to yourself. It was the worst kept secret on set that Ethan had a crush on you, a secret you knew but ignored. If actors slept around with anyone, the same could be said about other set assistants, they all slept with each other. You turned back around and finished up.

 When you walked across the lot to the morning huddle, you felt small butterflies flit in the bottom of your stomach forcing your palms to sweat. You stood to the back and listened to Peter, the assistant director as he spoke about the day’s vision and whatever other nonsense he needed to get out. He was a lot wordier than David, and you had no idea why.

 After almost ten minutes he finished, and everyone began clearing out. You saw Dwayne’s back and knew Idris and Jason weren’t far from him. You slowly approached them, cautiously as if you were some timid peacock. Halfway there you snapped out of it, straightened your back and remembered you were a bad bitch, a professional bad bitch. You sped up your steps and walked over to them. Jason saw you first.

 “Good morning Z,” he said with a smile, a smile you returned.

 “Good morning Jason, Dwayne,” you responded noticing Idris was missing. You quickly looked around scanning the nearby vacuity for him but didn’t see him.

 “He was called to do a different shoot across town. He’s filming the car chase scene,” Jason filled in. You nodded as you remembered the scene but didn’t see it on the schedule.

 “Interesting, it’s not on the schedule for the day.”

 “David changed his mind last minute; you know how he is, which explains Peter here instead,” Dwayne finished.

 You nodded and handed them each their coffee.

 “Jason, I thought we’d switch it up today, I found a nice Columbian blend that I think will put the Moroccan one as your number two,” you added. He smiled and took a sip. You waited for the verdict. He nodded his agreement.

 “Eh, it’s good I won’t lie, it’s very close between the two,” Jason admitted.

 “See, I told you I’m good.” He smiled and nodded.

 “Is there anything you both need before I take the trip to the set across town?”

 Both Dwayne and Jason shook their heads indicating they needed nothing.

 “Okay, I’ve left the menus for lunch in your trailers, shoot me a text to tell me what it’s gonna be, and I’ll have it for you. Also, text me if you need anything at all,” you explained. They both nodded, Jason, waved you off before turning around to look at the set still being finished. You scoffed and shook your head.

 “All right Jason, I know when I’m not wanted,” you joked.

 “You’re not needed here, he needs you over there,” he slid out. Your smile slipped as you tried to grasp his meaning. As if he knew he tripped you up he smiled and turned back around.

 You walked away to one of the set cars and began your projected twelve-minute drive to the second set.

Once you arrived, you looked at the chaos around. Crowds were surrounding the set, everyone trying to snap a picture of what was going on. There were groups of women holding up signs for Idris, Jason, and Dwayne. One of those signs read “I used to be a ballerina; I can do the split in four different ways, I can show you, Idris.” You couldn’t help yourself; you loudly laughed as you approached security. You showed him your badge, and he allowed you access. You walked through the swarm of crew members and made your way to the tent you knew the actors were. You juggled the items in your hands and maneuvered through the bodies littering the set. You saw Idris walk from underneath the tent out toward the row of cars. You watched the way he walked, that wide leg dip of a bow-legged man. It was attractive as hell, and it always commanded your attention. You stepped underneath the tent and smiled at the other crew members. David, the director, stood up and clapped his hands together.

 “Quiet on set! Idris, you’ve got the scene?”

“Got it,” he answered. David nodded, stepped behind the lens and held his hand up signaling for all movement and sounds to cease. He counted down from five with his fingers and then pointed indicating the beginning of the scene.

 In an instant, Idris leaped into action. You watched the high intensity; action scene unfold before you. There was limited dialogue just Idris showcasing why he was becoming one of the top actors to consider for an action role. He ran across the street, slide over the hood of the fancy Lamborghini, landing on his feet before he drew a gun from the holster on his thigh. He acted as if he pulled the trigger and eight loud, realistic gunshots sounded on the set. From behind him, a woman came attempting to kick him in the head. As quickly as he slid across the hood, he spun around, grabbed her leg and slammed her against the wall of the brick building thus beginning one of the fancy martial arts choreographed fight scenes. You stepped behind David and looked through the lens. It looked good, he was good.

 The scene continued for another minute before David yelled “cut.” Everyone on set clapped.

 “Yes, that is exactly what I wanted. Great work,” David complimented. Idris nodded as he approached the tent. A few other crew members patted him on the back and congratulated him, he accepted the praise but said nothing. The moment he saw you, you saw the blood on his eyebrow. Your smile faltered as worry rang through you. You approached him as he sat down.

“Hey Z,” Idris said.

 “You’re hurt. Are you okay?” you stooped a little to get eye level with his face and examined his eyebrow.

 “I’m all right, occupational hazard,” Idris joked. You ignored him and touched his temple. He sucked in a breath.

 “Yeah, you’re hurt. We need a medic,” you said before you rose to turn to notify one of the set handles. Idris grabbed your hand forcing you to look at him. You looked at his hand around your wrist and then to him.

 “I’m fine Z, it’s just a little cut,” he explained.

 “Still, it’s their job to ensure the actors are okay. Someone should patch you up.

 “It’s also your job to make sure I have everything I need. So, if I need a medic, you should patch me up,” he said his voice low. The words caught you off guard making you freeze.

 Everything in you felt like that was a line. You felt like he was being flirtatious, but you couldn’t be sure. You bit your bottom lip and studied his face. He slowly let your wrist go the longer it took you to speak, and before long he broke the stare. It sure as hell wasn’t your job to clean his wounds, and it sure as hell wasn’t your job to touch him unless necessary, but everything in you wanted to. You wanted to nurse his wounds, wanted to touch him, everywhere, endlessly. Your palms tingled with how badly you felt the urge. You lifted your hand to reach for him, it brought his attention back to you but before either of you could make another move David approached. Once he saw the blood, he called medical over, and in an instant, the opportunity passed, but the air between the two of you was still charged. You turned your back to him and tried to compose yourself. You took several deep breathes and used it as a needed reprieve to get a grip on your thoughts and emotions.

 Once you turned around, he was cleaned up. You cleared your throat, took up his coffee and the stack of papers and proceeded, business as usual.

 “I have your coffee here, it may not be as scalding as you like, that’s my fault I’m sorry. I didn’t know your shoot was switched up today. It won’t happen again,” you explained.

 “It’s fine Z, I’ll still take it,” Idris appeased as he reached out for the cup. As he took it from your hands, his fingers brushed yours, and that was all it took for the electricity to spark within you. You forced yourself to keep a straight face, careful not to give anything away. He took a long sip from the cup and moaned.

 “Nothing like a British blend,” Idris sighed out. You smirked to yourself.

 “Also, your schedule, I think you have a few minutes to go over it,” you said handing him a copy of the schedule. For the next few minutes, you explained the changes and every obligation he had that day. Once you were finished, he nodded.

 “All right; got it.”  You nodded as well.

 “Okay, well that’s it for me for now. Do you want anything else from me?” he looked up at you, and his eyes dropped to your mouth and then slowly over your body before he shook his head and looked back to your face.

 “Like what?”

 You shrugged and smiled.

 “Uh, I don’t know, anything I guess,” you said unsure how to answer his question.

 “Anything. Huh, I need—” he trailed off as he stared at you. You waited for him to finish his sentence, silently hoping he would finish the sentence with the word “you.” He took a deep breath in and slowly released it, the look on his face spoke of annoyance, and something else, something close to what you imagined as disappointment.

“No Z, you’ve been great, thank you,” he said standing from his monogrammed chair. He began walking away from you toward the director and a circle of other crew members. You stood there feeling like a lost puppy, filled with disappointment.

 You stayed on set for fifteen more minutes before you left to go back to Lot A to get cracking on the rest of your tasks when you left Idris was nowhere in sight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How is it possible for you to work so much?” Ethan asked, leaning against the door frame of your trailer. You looked back at him and smiled.

 “Well, I have this thing called a drive to be successful,” you teased.

 “Ouch, burn,” Ethan feigned faux hurt as he held his chest.

 “What’s up?”

 He walked further in and sat across from you.

 “How are the plans coming for the end of the week?”

 You sighed and rubbed your forehead.

 “Well, you’re looking at them. Whose damn idea was it to have a weekly cast and crew dinner?”

 “That would be Peter; he thinks it helps with team building and not keeping the actors and the crew separate. I actually like it,” Ethan explained. You nodded.

 “Great. So why can’t we just recycle the same concept every week and simply reserve the same thing in advance?”

 “Again Peter, he thought it would be fun to switch up themes every week,” Ethan added. You rolled your eyes.

 “If I didn’t know any better I’d think that you and Peter hang out off set,” you said. Ethan scoffed and shook his head.

 “Do you want some help? I don’t mind.”

 You looked over his face. There was a time (the first day you got on set) that you thought he was cute and thought maybe, but that changed quickly (fourth day on set) when you caught him and Tammie going at it behind one of the trailers. Since then you kept it all in perspective.

 “No, I’m good. Thanks,” you answered.

 “All right, was just checking in on you and dropping off this stuff for you,” Ethan said pointing behind him at a rack of clothes, and the stack of papers. You groaned and shook your head.

 “Writers, they need a life, they write too damn much, nothing everything needs to be said and resaid in fifteen hundred different ways,” you ranted as you approached the stack of what you knew were rewrites. You took up the stack and rifled through them and nodded as your suspicions were confirmed.

 “We all have a role to play Z; catch ya’ later.” He closed the door behind him leaving you alone with your frustrations. You knew this wasn’t work frustrations, this was lite work, you’d done some truly hard set work before, and this was in the middle. This you could handle. You knew where your frustrations were coming from and that was precisely what made you even more irritable. You rolled your head around stretching your tense muscles and counted.

 You didn’t feel anywhere near calm until you’d reached eighty. You were now trecking through the lot to distribute wardrobe and rewrites to the actors’ trailers. You glanced at your phone, eight twenty. At this time, you knew Jason, Idris and Dwayne were filming another night scene across town, that thought gave you some comfort. Whenever Idris was near your body automatically went into a heightened state of suspension, it wouldn’t relax, and the longer you remained close to him the worse it became. You quickly dropped off items in Dwayne’s and Jason’s trailers making sure to take any notes they’d left for you for the next day and the week. A task that was supposed to be ten minutes tops was made longer by little micro errands you had to complete between dropping items off.

 By the time you made it to Idris’ trailer, it was almost nine thirty. Without thinking you opened the door to the trailer and climbed the three steps inside. You flicked on one of the lamps and the space lit up with a soft white hue leaving darkness throughout the majority of the trailer. You placed the stack of papers on the desk you normally did, saw no notes for you and proceeded to walk toward the area you knew held a decent sized relaxation area. When you rounded the corner, you flicked on another light prepared to drape the wardrobe items across the bed.

A door opened to your right and out came Idris with water beads peppered across his chiseled chest. You stared at him without moving so much as a muscle and traveled the length of his torso. As your eyes took in his smooth skin, they spent extra time on his abs and inevitably his brain-numbing oblique indentations.

 “Jesus Christ!” you panted out, the desire in your voice clear. You quickly looked up to meet his eyes that bored holes into you. A chill ran up your spine, and you arched your breasts forward. Idris’ eyes dropped to your breasts, and you saw his tongue peek out and dart across his full lips.

 “Fuck!” you grunted in a pleading voice.

 You had no idea what you were pleading for. It could have been for strength, mercy or for him to do just that push you against a wall and fuck you. With your run-away thoughts, you looked back down across his body, and it was then you saw he had a towel wrapped around his waist with an evident bulge asking for attention. You took a small step forward but hesitated to complete it. The look on his face went to an expression of hope. You took two steps back and recollected your senses.

 “Shit, I’m so sorry,” you rushed out, closing your eyes and turning your back to give him some privacy.

 “I had no idea you were in here; I thought you were still filming. I came in to drop some things off. If I had known you were in here, I never would have--,” you trailed off.

 You pinched your lips together embarrassment taking over. He didn’t speak; you didn’t even know if he moved. You wanted to look back but knew your strength, and that was more than you could take. If you looked back, you would cross a line. After another almost minute of silence you nodded.

 “Right, I’m sorry again. Your wardrobe for tomorrow is there, rewrites and other tidbits on the table. Good night,” you rambled on as you walked toward the door and quickly out of it.

 Instead of walking back to your trailer you ran with a horrified expression plastered across your face. There were still two more scenes to film for the night, but you stayed away from him for the rest of the night. You kept away from watching the filming, made sure not to be anywhere he was. Instead, you busied yourself with trying to get ahead for the next day. No matter how busy you made yourself, you still couldn’t stop thinking about him, or it. It looked heavy and felt solid. If that was true, then the rumors were very well quite possibly very true.

 By the time eleven o’clock rolled around you couldn’t deal anymore and left to go home but with the amount of manic energy you had home was not an option. Instead, you called Andra and your friends and had them meet you at your go-to bar to unwind.

 One drink turned to three and three turned to nine, and before you knew it, you were dancing on a table with your friends all around you cheering you on. When you got home, it was almost three in the morning. You expected to be tired and too drunk for your brain to work, but nope, like clockwork, you remained up with thoughts of Idris, his abs and his abundant blessing from the God almighty.

 To Be Continued….

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[scornedlove]

Chapter Thirteen

Robyn

“Home sweet home” I paused, inhaling a deep breath of the island air as soon as we walked out the airport. I was glad to be here and couldn’t wait to see everyone.

“We’re going to check-in at the hotel, then go see mama” Melanie stated as J loaded their suitcases into a taxi.

“Okay, I’ll be at home, let me know when you’re trying to link up” I replied as I waved my own taxi down. 

I couldn’t help but smile when I pulled up to the house. It was lit up in red and green Christmas lights, music was blasting, and it looked as if everyone and their grandma was having a blast.

“Rob!” Rorrey yelled, reaching me before I could even step out the taxi.

“Come’a big head! “ he greeted pulling me in for a tight hug.

“Man, I’ve missed y'all so much” I replied kissing him and leaving a shiny lip print on his cheek.

“Everybody been waiting on you to get here” he grinned, grabbing my suitcase and pulling me towards the house. 

Within a few seconds, the rest of the family started bombarding me as well. It was like everyone in my family tree was on the scene today. They were all just as happy to see me as I was to see them. By the time I made it to the living room, I was literally crying tears of joy. I hadn’t been home in so long, I forgot what it felt like to be around family.

“I got some good news” Rorrey announced after everyone returned to the party, . “I was performing downtown and a record producer offered me a deal. He wants me to fly to New York and work on a demo”

“What!?” I yelled as Leandra brought out three tequila filled shot glasses .

“Yeah sis, this gon be big he grinned happily”

“Yup, and I’m going to be there all the way” Le added, handing us a shot. “To big shit Poppin”

“Robyn, weh Rayven? “Mama asked just as I started to pour the liquid gold down my throat and I damn near choked on it. I’d forgotten everyone would be asking about the skettel.

“I in no. She wan do her own thing” I shrugged, attempting to avoid a lie. I had no interest in discussing what happened between us, at least not right now.

“You tek care of ya family now, I aint care what ya’ll go through” she ordered. “And slow down on that drinkin”

“My liver is made up of steel” Le yelled over her shoulder, and I couldn’t help but snicker. Le had a high tolerance and could probably drink more than all of us combined.

“Where’s Mel, I thought she was coming with you” Rorrey asked, pouring himself another shot.

“She stopped to see her mum first but she’ll be here later” I replied, shoving my glass to him so he could refill mine…I was ready to get wasted and join the rest of my family in the turn up. I took one more shot and felt it hit me as I swallowed.

“Come dance with me mama” I jumped up playfully grabbing her hands and swinging them as I rocked to the music that was blasting outside.

“I’m going to bed, go out there with the rest of ya drunk family” she laughed, pushing past me.

I was dancing and celebrating with my family and neighbors, trying to enjoy myself, but hearing Rayven’s name brought that situation from the back of my mind. Those shots had me a little faded and before I knew it, someone passed me a blunt.

“Robyn?” A voice called out, and I couldn’t quite make out who it was. “It’s me, Mike” he grinned, causing my stomach to churn. Everywhere I turned, I kept being reminded of her.

“Hey, how you been” I asked, giving him a quick hug.

“I’ve been ok…not better than you obviously. Damn, you look good girl” he replied as he looked me up and down.

I couldn’t front…time had been good to him as well. He had grown at least 6 inches and was now standing over me with his dreads hanging just past his shoulders. He had no shirt on and was proudly showing off his dark, muscular chest. I caught my eyes traveling down to his print but not before he did.

“We just came from the beach, we saw the party and wanted to check it out. Now, I’m glad we did” he grinned showing his pearly whites.

“Look.."I began before he quickly interrupted.

"I know we left off on a bad note and we haven’t seen each other in years…but I have regretted that day ever since it happened. That was your cousin, I’ve never forgiven myself-"

”-We were sixteen Michael, it’s really not a big deal” I shrugged, bringing the blunt back to my lips. I took a long drag and offered it to him. He took it and did the same, not breaking eye contact.

I don’t know if it was the high I had tonight, the drought I’ve had for the past ten months, or a combination of both, but my nani was screaming for some attention. On cue, my song started blaring from the speakers and my body began to do its own thing. Before I knew it, I was dancing on Michael like I had to show him what he missed out on.  As I grinded my hips into his, I could feel his manhood growing, which turned me on even more.

“Come with me” I ordered, pulling him towards the side of the house. I wanted some dick and was feeling bold enough to get it. “Do you have a condom?” I asked and he responded with a nod and pulled it out of his back pocket.

“I just need to feel good” my voice slurred as I whispered in his ear.

“I got you” he replied and began to eagerly suck on my neck. His cologne was so strong that I began to feel nauseated.

“Waaii…” I started to say when he quickly swung me around so that my back was against the house, but it was too late. I vomited all over his perfectly sculpted chest, as he jumped back seconds too late.

“Damn bitch, you must be faded!” Mel yelled, popping up just in time to witness it all. I hadn’t even realized she was here.

“I’m so sor” I started to say as another wave came rushing up. This time, he dodged it and left without another word.

“Rasshole!” Mel shouted towards his back, before coming to grab my hair out of the way. I felt like I was going to die as wave after wave continued to come up. I was so embarrassed but grateful my best friend was there to help me make it inside without anyone else seeing what had just happened.

“What’s wrong?” Ella asked an hour later when she found me on the couch recuperating.

“I drank a lil too much and threw up on Mike” I chuckled back the embarrassment.

“Good, I know bout him and Ray” she laughed. “and I saw you wukkin up wit him. He don’t deserve dat”

“Yeah, you right. I was just having fun tho” I defended myself with a shrug.

“Well, what would be more fun is celebrating my acceptance to the BDF! Training starts the first week of January” she beamed. She always said she’d be a coast guard, looks like dreams have been taking off while I’ve been gone.

“Fi true?! You always said you would, look at you growing up on me. I’m so happy for you” I practically yelled, giving her a big hug.

“That’s why you need to get up! The turn up just started!”

An hour later, we were five deep, wearing all black like a mob. Mel,Le, Nita, and I all grew up on the same block. It had been years since we hung out like we used to. Being with my girls brought the life out of me. They were my sisters and we had an unbreakable bond. I would do anything for them and vice versa.

By 2 a.m. we were on the beach huddled around a small bonfire giggling as we reminisced about the sleepovers we had when we were in middle school. We laughed about buck teeth and old crushes until our guts hurt.

As the waves crashed in the sand, I realized for the first time in a long time, I felt like myself again. I laid back in the sand and relished in the moment.

“What about you Rob? What was de best part of your year?”  Nita asked, after everyone raved about the good things that happened to them. Mel’s engagement, Nita was graduating, and will be an MD in the spring, Ella was accepted to the BDF, and Le was going on a tour with Rorrey. 

“Nothing. This was a shitty year. I don’t even want to talk about it” I rolled my eyes because my mood was just shot to shit. “A lot of crazy shit happened to me. Never in a million years would I have imagined my life going like this”

“But you’re still here, standing strong. That’s the best part.” Mel interrupted as I pushed back the wave of tears that were on standby. I wasn’t going to ruin a perfect evening with my girls, so I shook off the sadness.

“You know what, this is the most happiness I’ve had in a long time. We should do this at least twice a year. Crop over and Christmas. We have to escape the madness and steal this moment together” I suggested, and they all nodded in agreeance. We spent the rest of the night talking about what we would do different, and how next year will be better until we passed out on the beach, huddled together like old times.

Chris

The past few days have been a complete shock. Kate and Cindy were staying with me since we couldn’t get a decent hotel with the holiday season being here. Her parents weren’t coming back until after the holidays and I didn’t have it in me to just leave them at a dump so I made sure they had everything they would need to get them through the week.

She stayed to herself in the room I initially had set up for Cindy. I hadn’t even realized I still had all the stuff I’d gotten her. She would only come out to eat or dispose of dirty diapers and I barely even knew they were there. Only today was different, it was Christmas and I didn’t know what to do. I had to stop by mama’s and Trey’s today, but there was no way I was bringing Kate along. At the same time, I really didn’t want to leave her alone in my house either.

I glanced at the clock and saw it was a little after eight. I could swing through mama’s to watch her open my gift, then stop by Trey’s for a quick minute, and possibly make it back before she even knew I was gone.

I took a quick shower and was dressed in fifteen minutes tops. I stopped by and peeked in on them, they were sound asleep just as I expected, so I quickly made my exit.

I made it to mom’s just as she was setting the table. After the food was done, I ate like I hadn’t eaten in days, then we exchanged gifts.

“Wow… this is beautiful” mama smiled in awe at the painting I’d made for her. It was a recreation of a picture of the two of us when I was five. It was the first time I had been to the beach, one of my happiest memories.

“I have to get your gift from the garage” she announced before taking off in that direction.

“I have something for you too” Richard stated pulling an envelope out and handing it to me. It was a Christmas card with two tickets for the Lakers game tonight.

“Wow Richard, I would love to go but I can’t accept these. I’ve been so busy that I didn’t get a chance to get you and Amber anything.“

"Nonsense, these are a gift and I want you to have them. We all have tickets for tonight’s game. You’re always busy so we can consider you joining us as our Christmas gift. ” he replied.

“I don’t know man, I had something to take care of tonight…"

"Damn boy, do you ever take a day off? Either you’re the busiest man in Cali or you REALLY don’t like us” Amber interrupted.

“I just promised a friend some time tonight that’s all"

"That’s why I got you two tickets” Richard pointed out. I really wanted to go, I just had Kate to think about. There’s just no way I’m bringing her and Cindy and I’m definitely not leaving them alone in my house that long. I felt like they were putting me on the spot so I was happy to see mama coming back from the garage with a small box in tow.

“You’re going to love this!” She squealed placing it in my hands. “Open up"

I did as I was told and was more than surprised at what was looking back at me. It was a puppy.

"It’s a bulldog! Now that you’re so busy and I don’t see you as often, I have to make sure there’s a lady in the house, keeping an eye on you” mama smiled while Amber took her and gave her some kisses.

“I’m gonna miss you…let me know if you ever need a sitter” She stated, passing her back to me.

I could tell the ride home was different for Diamond, that’s what I decided to call her. Her eyes just twinkled while she whined the whole way. I prayed she wouldn’t do this all day. 

I was pulling back in my driveway with Diamond asleep on my passenger seat and leftovers from Mama’s big breakfast for K when I noticed Ryan’s car pulling up right next to mine.

"Merry Christmas” she called out as she stepped out with a gift bag.

“Merry Christmas. I’m sorry I didn’t realize we were doing the gift thing” I shook my head feeling bad.

“It’s okay we can share this gift” she replied pulling out a bottle of spiked eggnog.

“Can I take a rain check on this one?”

“So basically, you’re going to ditch me on Christmas knowing you’re my only friend?” she asked dramatically.

“Okay fine since you put it like that” I agreed. I figured Kate and Cindy were still asleep anyway and Ryan and I can chill for an hour or so. I grabbed the puppy and she excitedly took her from me.

“Awww, you have a new little baby. What’s his name?” she asked, pulling her close to her chest.

“HER name is Diamond” I corrected her with a smirk.

“Well. I’ll take her, you grab the bottle” she ordered, pushing it in my hand.

When we walked in, it was still as quiet as it was when I left and I couldn’t be more grateful. That is, until Diamond started whining again. She was so loud, you would’ve sworn someone was torturing her.

“She’s probably hungry” I realized, snapping my finger. I ran back to the car for her food and by the time I came back, she had woke Kate.

“What is that noise" she asked, clearly frightened.

“Kate?!” Ryan squealed, pushing me out the way and hugging her.

“Hey girl what are you doing here?” Kate asked, finally recognizing Ryan. “I didn’t know you knew Chris”

“Chris is my only friend these days” she joked. “We were going to have some eggnog; you wanna join? Wait where is your daughter…Sin right?”

“Uh…. how do you two know each other" I asked after getting the puppy settled.

“This is Kiki’s cousin, the one I was telling you about with the crazy baby daddy” she mumbled the last part. ‘How do you guys know each other?

“This is my Kate…I mean my friend I was telling you about”

“Ohh…” Ryan slowly begin to remember and suddenly it was awkward.

“Wow, small world” Kate whistled, breaking the silence and moving past us.

“We were going to watch Home Alone and sip eggnog, come hang with us” I offered with a shrug.

“Maybe after I feed Cindy” she replied, just as the baby began to cry.

“That’s my cue” she continued down the hall.

“Uno! I win!” I yelled dropping my last card on the pile. Just as promised, Kate joined Ryan and me on Home Alone, which led to the Grinch, which led to Uno. We were on our third game, and Kate had won the first two.

“It’s about time I get some competition around here” Kate laughed as I danced and celebrated my win.

“Naw, y'all cheating” Ryan sucked her teeth as she threw her Pile of cards in.

“You’re just mad you suck” I teased, and she rolled her eyes.

“Y'all lucky I have to work tonight, or I’d sit here until I win” she laughed as she stood up, laid Diamond down, and threw her jacket on.

“Well that was embarrassing” K announced when I came back from seeing Ryan out. She looked irritated, and the grin she was wearing a second ago was now replaced with a frown.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“I’m known as ‘Kiki’s cousin’s baby mama’ ” she repeated in Ryan’s English accent.

“Well that’s what happens when you randomly have someone’s baby” I replied and felt bad instantly. I didn’t hear how fucked up it sounded until it came out. She tossed down the cards she had picked up and stormed off without giving me the chance to correct myself.

A couple of hours later she still hadn’t come from the guest room. I felt like I needed to apologize, we were finally comfortable around each other again and I didn’t want to move backwards.

“Kate” I called out easing the door open to her room. I regretted it immediately. She was sitting on the bed with Cindy in her arms breastfeeding. Her breasts were at least two cup sizes bigger then I remember, which caught me by surprise. I didn’t mean to stare, but I couldn’t help but notice the difference.

“I’m sorry, I was just making sure y'all were okay” I stammered as we made eye contact.

“You actually have good timing, I really need that bag right there if you don’t mind passing it to me” she asked, pointing to the other side of the room. 

Just as I started towards it my phone rang. I gave her the bag and rushed out of the room grateful for the distraction. I missed the call, but a text came in immediately after.

Tina: Detective Reynolds left a message on the machine… He wants you to come down to the station for some questions.

“They just never give it a rest” I sighed shaking my head.

“Who?” K asked scaring the shit out of me.

“I didn’t know you were standing there” I chuckled. “I’m sorry about earlier I wasn’t intentionally disrespecting you. You know me better than that” I explained.

“Look, I know it was fucked up how everything turned out. If I could take it all back I would” she began to explain.

“We really don’t have to talk about this” I sighed. I wasn’t interested in going down memory lane with the situation. I’d actually prefer to forget it even happened.

“Yes, we do. I need to get this off my chest. Ty wasn’t some random dude. We had been of and on for a few years. Obviously while I was with you, we were off and when you were consumed with Robyn, I was with Ty. That doesn’t change how bad I felt when things turned out the way they did. If I knew there was even a small possibility that Ty could have been Cindy’s dad, I wouldn’t have gone through with having her. I know that sounds fucked up but it’s true. He’s not the type of person I want to be connected to forever.”

“So, you’re saying that you would have had an abortion?” I quizzed, remembering the time Robyn suggested it and Kate flipped shit.

“Yes, only because he’s not equipped to be a parent. The only reason I told him she was his is because I thought him seeing her would be enough to encourage him to be better, especially towards me.”

“K… is he putting his hands on you?” I asked, looking in her eyes for the truth. She nodded as tears filled her eyes.

“He’s always been verbally abusive but since I had Cindy, he’s hit me twice. If I would have known he could be even worse towards me, I wouldn’t have told him about her. I just need a job so I can save enough money to start over somewhere he couldn’t possibly find us.”

“How about I just take care of him?” I asked, feeling a wave of anger boiling in my gut. Yeah, she did some fucked up things, but Kate didn’t deserve to be hit on.

“You can’t” she protested.

“I know people that can get away with it” I pressed.

“Oh, you mean…no, no, no. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing you had him killed!” she exclaimed. “He’s not a bad person, it’s just how he grew up. He had counseling and therapy but when he drinks everything, he learned flies out the window.”

“That’s bullshit and I hope you’re truly done with him. I’ll give you a job, I’m sure Tina can find some use for you. You can have a good amount saved within a couple of months.”  I suggested. “But you better not go back to that man. You deserve better”

“Well, would it be too much to ask if I wanted to stay here with you until I’m able to get my own place?” she pleaded.

“I don’t know it was rough when you were pregnant remember?”

“That’s different. My hormones were out of whack” she laughed. “but seriously can you at least think about it?”

“We’ll just take it a day at a time” I decided.

“Thank you so much!” she sighed, giving me a big hug. “Oh, and the other day you said something about losing your son...does that mean Robyn was pregnant?”

“It wouldn’t be from anyone else” I nodded “She lost him in a car accident a couple of days before my birthday.  

"Wait we were together at that time...so that's why you were so withdrawn. You were a complete dick to me" 

"I'm sorry...It wasn't personal" 

 "No, I get it now. You were in mourning and I'm sure our situation didn't make it any better." She sympathized. 

We spent the rest of the night playing with Diamond and Cindy and I couldn't help but wonder how things would've turned out if Cindy had been mine. Would I still be so in love with Robyn, or could I see myself falling for Kate and being a happy little family? For whatever reason, this is what God wanted. I just had to work on accepting it, so I can move on. 

“Chris someone is at the door” K announced, shaking my shoulder repeatedly.

“Okay. I’m, up I’m up” I replied as the knocking continued, louder this time.

When I opened the door, I was face to face with two police officers and the first thing that came to mind was something happened to mama.

“What’s going on officers?” I asked as my heart rate sped up, preparing for bad news.

“Are you Christopher Brown?” The first one asked, flipping his badge out.

"Yes"

“You are under arrest for the murder of Michelle Davis"

"this must be some kind of mistake” I tried to explain but neither of them was hearing it.

“Turn around and put your hands behind your back” the first one ordered. I did as I was told, and he forcefully grabbed my hands and put them in cuffs.

“Chris… what’s going on?” K appeared with Cindy in her arms.

“Call my mom asap and let her know I need her. The phone password is 0220.” I yelled over my shoulder as they pulled me to the police car.

[5hfanfiction]

our broken white rose (2/?) ⇾ camren

a/n: i alter tori’s age in the story even though she is four years older than lauren and five years older than camila in real life. her and ally’s ages throughout the book will be a little younger than normal. tori will be twenty-eight.

hope you will enjoy. make sure to comment throughout the chapter, vote and answer end of the chapter questions. thanks for reading, love y'all sm!

***

Each night I put my head to my pillow and try to tell myself that I’m strong. Strong because I’ve gone one more day without her… but I’m not strong. I’m weak. I’m broken.

Looking over at the empty space beside me, I resisted the urge to cry again. I’ve done too much of that today. Even after four years, I find myself missing her more than anything. Everyone around me has accepted the fact that Camila’s gone and she isn’t coming back. So why haven’t I?

The remains of her body was literally scattered all over the backyard of her and Lola’s old home. Maybe I should move on. Jump back into the so called dating world. But wouldn’t that be betraying Camila?

Sighing to myself, I threw my blanket over and off my body and headed downstairs. Maybe a glass of wine will help…

Rounding the staircase and into my kitchen, I nearly shit my pants when I came face to face with one of my daughters. We both ended up letting out an ear piercing scream.

“Luna-Rose! What are you doing up at this hour?” I scolded after catching my breath, hands resting on my hips.

Her brown eyes casted down for a moment before she let out an exaggerated sigh. “I had a bad dream,” she mumbled.

Frowning, I pulled out one of the island chairs and sitting her down on it before sitting down on one myself. “Wanna tell me about it?” I asked softly.

She bit down nervously on her bottom lip. Something she obviously inherited from Camila. Shaking my head, I waited for her to speak. Breaking down in front of my daughter was not on my list of to-do’s today. “M-Momma was in it…” was the only thing she said.

My heart stopped. Luna was roughly around two years old when Camila passed. The only times she ever spoke about her mother was when we watched her performances on YouTube. She didn’t really have many memories about her to talk about. So to hear that she was now having bad dreams about her, well you could only imagine my surprise and heart ache.

***

*Unknown*

This place was fucking creepy. I couldn’t believe her crazy ass is hiding out here. Shaking my head, I brought my hand up to ring the doorbell. Seconds upon seconds passed before a series of locks were heard being unlocked and I was met with the unpleasant view of my stepsister.

“Took you long enough,” Lola hissed, immediately dragging me inside.

“Listen, I’m not Camila. Don’t put your fucking hands on me or I swear to god,” I threatened, shouldering past her into the small cabin like home. I could hear Lola talking under her breath so I turned around to look at her. “Why don’t you talk louder there bud?”

Rolling her eyes, she outstretched her hand. “Did you bring my shit?”

“Nope. But I came with information,” I mumbled, pulling out my phone before showing her the pictures. “Janelle took these for me. Victoria is in town.”

I watched as hazel eyes got wide, “Victoria Kelly?”

Nodding, I shrugged. “You bet. Look Lola, I’m not a fan of what you’re doing. Quite frankly, I think you should be locked the fuck up. You can’t take someone away from their family, have me stage a death for you, make me lie to my dad so he can secretly fund you to keep a roof over your head and have your mom think you died after “killing” Camila,“ I paused. "I don’t like that girl. Never have, never will. She swooped in and took what was mine but you don’t see me going batshit crazy and kidnapping people–”

“Yet you’re over here handing me valuable information in hopes Victoria doesn’t accidentally disclose her relationship with Camila to Lauren,” Lola smirked before rolling her eyes. “You can act like you’re some saint compared to me, but you’re not. Because if you were, you would’ve told Lauren by now that her wife is alive down here with me. You could have had a swat team down here in less than twenty-four hours. Hell, they could’ve came with you. But they didn’t. Look at you, here… alone. You may not be physically hurting anyone, but you’re playing a major role in destroying a family with me. So you can go around playing Mother Teresa, but we both know you aren’t any better than myself.”

***

“How are the girls?” Janelle asked as I took a seat beside her.

I sighed heavily to myself, removing my jacket in the process. “They’re fine. Luna’s staying home with the sitter today. Had a bad dream and went to bed late,” I explained.

Janelle raised an eyebrow at me, “No Lucy?”

I shrugged, “She had a family emergency last night.”

Janelle nodded, not asking anymore question and changing the subject. “Tori is coming in for another session today.”

I frowned in confusion. “Wasn’t she just here for a demo?”

“Yes but she has a few more days in town. Wanted to see if she could test some other things out,” she shared vaguely.

“Alright. Send her down to studio S whenever she arrives,” I mumbled before standing up and heading out.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about seeing Tori again. While her presence was amazing all through yesterday, she just reminded me a whole lot of Camila. Something about her. I wasn’t too sure what.

Entering studio S, I began setting my belongings down and getting ready for whatever Tori had in mind. Now normally I didn’t work with new clients, but lately being so short handed with everyone still getting back from vacation, I had to take on some things I normally didn’t fuck with. Like working with people new to the game.

Minutes later, the familiar curly headed blonde walked in with the same smile that lit up the room. I stood, greeting her with a smile of my own. “Hi Tori, how’s everything?” I asked, walking over to the recording booth, her in tow.

“Good, I’m really excited for today’s session.”

“Oh yeah? I heard you wanted to record a few more things with your spare time in town,” I muttered, searching for suitable headphones.

“Yeah! I realized I didn’t really have much else to do. It’s always been my dream to come to California but with that being just my dream and all, I don’t really know anyone down here. Recording is basically all I have to busy myself during the day.”

I looked at her for a moment before walking out and towards the control panels, picking up any headphone set I saw and handing it to her. “Well that sucks. Not the recording part, the not knowing anyone here part.”

She shrugged, not really seeming bothered. “Yeah well, my friends are back home.”

After having everything situated, I leaned against a nearby wall and stared at her for a few moments. “Yeah. You made that demo for your friend Karla. You guys must be really close.”

Her face instantly lit up at the mention of her friend. I thought it was adorable. Her dimples came out as her eyes twinkled under the dim lights in the studio. “Yeah. She’s my best friend. I met her a few years ago, probably one of the best days of my life. She was so cryptic and closed off, it made me want to get to know her more. I’ve never really been away from her too long since we’ve known each other so this trip is the longest. She’s pregnant with a little boy right now and has the prettiest fiancée. The demo was for her birthday. Its a few months away but you can never be too prepared…” she trailed off.

I kind of tuned her out. She talked a lot… I didn’t really ask for a life story but she was nice… I guess.

I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m usually always up to meet new people but this girl… she reminded me too much of Camila. It was killing me. “So lets start,” I said cutting her off.

***

“Wow,” I breathed. Tori had just finished an acoustic song she had written a few years ago called ‘Funny.’ She had such a soft-spoken way of slapping people in the face with reality. Standing up, I walked over opening the recording booth’s sliding door. “That was amazing Tori,” I complimented.

The blonde haired girl smiled, “Thanks Lauren.”

“Well, I have to head out. Gotta pick up my daughter from school. Janelle can either take over or you can come back tomorrow to work with myself,” I suggested. Tori looked at me for a moment. “What?”

Shaking her head, a small red tint covered her cheeks. “I just-… you’re a mom?”

I scoffed. “Yeah, and?”

Her eyes widened. “No, no I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. My best friend is gonna be a mom. I just… I just didn’t expect you to be a m-mom.”

I nodded, not really caring. I shouldn’t be offended. I don’t even know her like that. “Yeah well, its whatever. You can let yourself out whenever you’re ready,” with that, I proceeded towards the studio door.

“Wait, Lauren?”

I turned around, raising an eyebrow at the blonde. “What?”

“Well, I know you have to go pick up your kid but do you think maybe a-after you can show me around the area? I know I don’t know you and you don’t know me but I don’t wanna spend my time here in my hotel doing nothing but coming here…” she trailed off nervously.

I tilted my head to the side, sighing loudly. “I would love to, but I’m not exactly a tour guide.”

***

“Mommy?” Lana called from the backseat.

“What’s up love?”

“Can we go to the park?” She asked.

I sighed. “No, Luna’s at home. She doesn’t feel well. Maybe another day.”

I could hear her whines of protest but tuned it out. I wasn’t in the mood to argue with a child. Pulling up into my driveway, I quickly exited and made my way towards the back to let Lana out.

As soon as I entered my home, I was greeted by my sitter. Smiling at Mrs. Claudette, I spoke. “Hey Claudette, do you think you can stay for a few more hours and watch both the girls this time? I really need a little me time.”

***

Later that evening Tori found herself wandering around the streets of Los Angeles. She was pretty bummed out when Lauren had turned down her offer to hang out. She didn’t mean to offend her with her initial surprise of being a mom, but apparently she did.

She liked spending time with Lauren. The certain green-eyed girl was almost like Karla when they first met. Cryptically closed off. People like that just always seemed to draw Tori in and she had no idea why.

She shook her head at herself. She had only a couple more days in this city, why was she trying to befriend someone she’d never see again? Long distance friendships didn’t seem ideal to her.

After Lauren had left, she chose to wait for the next day to work with her again instead of Janelle. The woman gave her insanely creepy vibes. Every time she was around her, she felt as if she was the dumb caucasian girl in horror movies waiting to get slaughtered to death. She wasn’t sticking around for that. So here she was, looking like an absolute dumb ass walking around and staring at everything in awe.

Being born and raised in such a small town, Tori hasn’t seen a lot of things. She’s literally never stepped foot outside of Yakutat City up until now. So you could only imagine her surprise when she decided to give the city a look around.

Everyone seemed so open and chill. That’s something you definitely didn’t see in Alaska. The warmth of California was also new to her. Warm days for her were extremely hard to come by. She owned very little amounts of short sleeves and shorts. A pretty common attire over here.

After aimlessly roaming around and passing the same stores over and over, she decided to enter a small ice scream shop called Luca’s Ice Cream Shoppe to grab something sweet to eat.

The place was a lot bigger than she could have expected. On the outside, it looked so miniature and small but on the inside it was huge. A menu of different ice cream styles sat above the counter on the wall. Everything looked and sounded so good. She could hardly believe it.

Walking up to the small line where only two people stood in front of her, she focused on the menu. Trying to find something she’d like before she was up next. She was so focused on all the delicious options that she didn’t even notice the familiar voice that turned her down earlier.

Soon enough, she was next. A man with dark brown hair with several gray strands of hair scattered throughout his head and beard stood behind the counter greeting her with a wide smile. “Well hello there darlin’, what can I get for you today?”

Still having trouble deciding, she shrugged. “Well I’m not really sure. What is your most popular?”

The man opened his mouth to speak, but someone else beat him to it. “Luca’s Mint Chocolate Chip Frozen Custard with almond nuts and strawberry fudge is amazing,” Turning around, Tori was startled for a moment before a small smile spread across her lips. Lauren stood behind her with a cup of ice cream and a small smirk. Motioning towards her own cup, Lauren nodded. “I promise.”

Turning back to the man behind the counter, she smiled. “I’ll have that then.”

***

Walking into my favorite ice cream store, I was greeted by Luca’s wife, Candice with a hug. Luca and Candice have been great friends of mine since permanently moving out to Los Angeles. The girls love them. So much so that Candice is “Granny” and Luca is “Pop pop.” This is our go to store whenever we’re craving something sweet. So pretty much everyday.

“Ah, sweetheart. It’s been awhile since I last saw you. How are my babies?” She asked.

I’ve been seeing Luca regularly but Candice hasn’t been in much lately. Being that she recently opened up her very own flower shop downtown, the Ice Cream Shoppe is somewhere you hardly see her at anymore. I’ve been wanting to bring the girls down there sometime, but free time is nowhere near my friend these days.

“I’m doing good and so are the girls. They’re with the sitter right now actually,” I informed.

Candice frowned at me. “Why didn’t you bring them here? They love ice cream.”

“Well I kind of needed some me time, you know? I haven’t had much of that lately with work and taking the girls to school. Everything has been pretty hectic these last few weeks.”

Candice nodded in understanding, “Well then this calls for our special rumcreamé now, huh? Come on.”

Not leaving any room for me to protest, I shook my head with a small smile as Candice pulled me towards the empty line. Shortly after two other people joined behind me. I looked around as Candice prepared my dessert, greeting Luca in the process.

There were only two people behind me. One being a middle aged lady who seemed too preoccupied with her phone to look up and Tor… Tori?

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. Her hotel was nearly thirty minutes away from here. This is odd. She didn’t seem to even notice me as she looked up at the menu with an adorable frown of concentration etched onto her features. Her light brown eyes darted from one option to another every few seconds.

“Here you go Laur,” Luca said, handing me a plastic cup and spoon with delicious looking ice cream. I thanked him and stepped out of line, the woman behind me going up to order her own.

I stood off to the side, eyeing Tori. Had she really not noticed me at all yet? I chuckled lightly to myself, taking a scoop of my ice cream and eating it as I waited. I’m not sure why I’m waiting though… I turned her down. Shouldn’t I be leaving before she noticed me?

Soon enough, it was Tori’s turn and Luca’s voice snapped her out of her small daze. I watched as a blush crept onto her cheeks when she realized she still couldn’t choose what she wanted. I took that as my cue to insert myself into the situation.

“Luca’s Mint Chocolate Chip Frozen Custard with almond nuts and strawberry fudge is amazing,” I shared. Tori instantly turned around, her blonde curly locks bouncing in the process. A small smile formed on her lips as I smirked. She stared at me for a moment before I motioned towards my own cup of ice cream. “I promise.”

She then turned back to Luca with a smile on her face, “I’ll have that then.”

I stood in silence, not really knowing what else to do as Luca prepared her ice cream. Should I go? Should I invite her to sit with me? Should I make small talk? I’m not good with people, alright? I awkwardly picked at my ice cream until Tori was finished.

We both stood in silence for a few moments before Tori spoke, “Do you wanna sit with me? Or am I going to be turned down again?” She asked, a shy smile forming on her lips.

“You smile a lot,” I said before heading towards a table. Taking a seat, I looked back at her. She had a confused frown now. Laughing to myself, I waved her over. “Come sit.”

“Should I stop smiling so much then?” She asked, pulling out a chair from across from me.

I shook my head, “No. It’s cute,” my eyes widened after I realized what I had just said. Coughing slightly, I corrected myself. “Your smile I mean. It’s pretty.”

Tori raised an eyebrow at me before smiling yet again. “Thanks.”

We silently ate our ice cream. It wasn’t awkward but it wasn’t comfortable either. It’s that type of silence between someone you just met where it’s not awkward but you don’t know enough about them to be comfortable either.

A good ten minutes passed before Tori spoke, “So did you ever pick up your daughter?” She asked.

I sighed, nodding. “Yeah. She and her sister are with their sitter.”

Tori looked at me in confusion. “Sister? There’s two of them?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Luna and Lana. Don’t get it confused, they aren’t twins. Everyone thinks that they are when they hear the names. But they’re a year apart,” I explained with a small chuckle. Tori nodded but laughed. I raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

She looked up at me then back down at her ice cream. “Nothing. You just don’t have the body of someone who had two kids,” my already arched eyebrow went even higher than I knew possible. Tori looked up at me with red cheeks. “I-I mean, its not that I was looking. You’re just in really good shape and not a lot of people with k-kids can say that they have a nice body still.”

I found myself throwing my head back with a semi loud laugh. “Do I make you nervous? You’re always stuttering around me,” I laughed.

She shrugged to herself, playing with the small amount of melted ice cream in her cup. “No. I just don’t like offending people.”

I nodded in understanding. “Well, just calm down. You’re gonna offend people in life whether you like it or not.”

She sighed with another shrug. “Doesn’t mean I won’t try not to.”

“True…” I trailed off.

“So what does your husband do?” She asked.

I laughed again to myself. “I like my men how I like my coffee. Nonexistent,” after coming out as bisexual I sort of came to terms with the fact that I’m pretty much a lesbian hiding behind the bisexual label to seem semi normal to the unaccepting people out there. But now that I’m older, I know what I am and who I am and if people have a problem with that, that’s them.

She looked at me in confusion for a moment before her eyes widened. “O-Oh, I just assumed… wow. I’m sorry,” she apologized.

I shook my head, “No apology needed.”

“So you have a wife then?”

I felt myself tense before clearing my throat. “Had.”

Tori tilted her head to the side. “Oh you guys got divorced or some–”

“You ask too many questions,” I said as I cut her off, staring off into the distance.

I wanted to get away from thoughts of Camila, not think about her and talk about her to a nosy fucking client. I stood, getting ready to gather my belongings. This is why I don’t get close to people. Always asking fucking questions. What happened to regular, normal questions about your day and shit. Why did everyone want to know about your personal life? I rolled my eyes. Don’t people know that if someone wanted to disclose their personal life to you, they’d fucking do it? Everyone is so dumb. Tori was no different.

“Wait, Lauren I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was a touchy subject,” she instantly stood as well. I scoffed to myself. “Please don’t go,” she pleaded.

I looked at her with a raised eyebrow, “What? I don’t have the right to go when I please now?”

***

Tori shook her head, seeming to grow frustrated with herself. “N-No. I didn’t mean it like that. I just,” she sighed in defeat. “I’m sorry.”

Tori looked down at her lap, playing with her fingers. When was she going to learn? She always found herself prying into someone else’s business unknowingly. She was so stupid. The last thing she wanted to do was upset Lauren. She actually liked her and wanted to be friends with her… for however long she could in this city.

She frowned when she heard the chair pull out and Lauren sit back down. Looking up, she stared at Lauren in confusion. “Aren’t you gonna leave?”

Lauren rolled her eyes. “Nah.”

They sat in awkward silence. Well, at least it was awkward to Tori. She couldn’t help but feel like she upset Lauren. She hated upsetting people.

“I’m really sorry,” she apologized again.

Lauren looked up at her with a raised eyebrow before shrugging. “Apology accepted.”

Tori nodded, “I won’t pry into your personal life anymore. I was just curious.”

Lauren sighed loudly, raising a hand to run through her dark waves. “Tell me about yourself,” she said, ignoring Tori’s last sentence.

Tori didn’t mind the fact that Lauren didn’t want to disclose too much of herself to her. She obviously had some personal things that she wanted to keep to herself. “Well, my name is Victoria, I’m twenty-eight and I’m from Alaska.”

Lauren nodded. “I’m Lauren, I’m twenty-seven and I’m from Florida.”

Tori smiled slightly at that. At least the getting to know each other thing wouldn’t be one sided. Lauren returned Tori’s smile with a genuine one of her own.

They spent hours getting to know each other. Tori found it weird how easy it was to talk to Lauren after she stopped trying to find out things that were too personal. From what she gathered, Lauren had two daughters, a younger brother and sister and music was pretty much her life. She also found out that she use to be in a popular girl group back in the day.

“Wow, I use to watch XFactor all the time with my mom. I can’t believe you were on there,” Tori gushed at she stared at Lauren in awe.

Lauren chuckled to herself. “Yeah, that show changed my life. Its kinda where I met my wife for the first time…” she trailed off.

This was the first time Lauren had mentioned her relationship life since Tori started to pry. She only nodded, not wanting to ask the questions she was dying to ask. “That’s really cute,” she answered simply.

Lauren nodded. “Yeah. Although at the time I didn’t really realize she was the one for me. It wasn’t until after our group spilt seven years ago.”

Tori frowned, “I’m sorry about that.”

Lauren shrugged with a small smile. “It’s okay. I feel like if that spilt never happened, I wouldn’t have realized she was my one and only and I wouldn’t have my two girls. They’re literally my world.”

Tori couldn’t help herself when she asked, “Where is she now? Your wife I mean…”

Lauren glanced up at her before looking away.

***

I could feel the tears coming. I barely knew Tori. Why was I talking about Camila to her? But the four letter word just slipped from my lips before I could stop it. “Dead.”

I heard the small gasp Tori let out, seeing as she brought her hand up to her mouth in shock. “Lauren, I’m so sorry…”

Looking up, I blinked the tears away before smiling softly at her. “Yeah, well. Guess that’s life. It happened years ago though so it’s fine.”

Tori shook her head. “When you lose someone, it’s never fine,” she spoke. “I lost my dad when I was seventeen and I’m still not over it. A part of you dies forever when you lose somebody close to you.”

I tried my best to hold my tears back. I hated this. “Y-Yeah,” I cursed under my breath when my own voice cracked. This isn’t what I signed up for.

Tori reached over and placed her hand over mine that sat on the table between us. “It’s okay to be sad Lauren. Being sad is the only way it’ll get better. All you have is more pain when you can’t let out your sadness.”

I knew Tori was trying to help and I thanked her for that. But I wasn’t someone who’d take advice from someone I barely knew. “Thanks Tori but I’m not sure if you know but, as a single parent, you don’t exactly have time to be "sad.” Being sad isn’t going to help me raise my kids,“ I didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but I did anyway.

I rolled my eyes at myself when Tori drew her hand back and looked down. "You’re right, I’m sorry.”

I sighed. “No, I am. I didn’t mean to sound so mean.”

***

The basement door flew open and she quickly tried to crawl further towards the wall. She didn’t want another beating. She just wanted to die.

Lola came down with a glass of water and a piece of toast. “Eat,” she hissed, throwing the plate on the ground and setting the glass down next to it.

Camila’s eyes clouded with tears as she looked down. “Please just kill me Lola,” she begged.

Crouching down, Lola smiled as she ran a hand through Camila’s hair. She then leaned down to place a tender kiss on her forehead. “I would, but I love you too much to do so baby.”

***

a/n: wowowow. welp, i did NOT proof read that. im sorry. im exhausted, lmao. i hope you guys liked this. sorry for any grammar issues.

how did you feel about tori and laurens get together?

who do you think that unknown pov was about?

when do you think lauren and tori will start piecing things together?

what if tori leaves and lauren hasnt pieced anything together yet?

what if feelings grow before lauren realizes camila just may be alive?

thanks so much for reading. please dont forget to comment and vote. it’ll mean a lot. give me some feedback, y'all are the readers, not me.

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thanks so much for reading. make sure to answer end of the chapter questions. i love y'all so much!

ellianna, xxxxxxxx