#but like if i wait until after thanksgiving that is pushing it too close UGH

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

hands and knees begging myself to be responsible tonight bc i have so much to do but i can feel in my heart irresponsible brain is going to win and im gonna end up drawing and making myself more behind and stressed but like i spent 8 hours researching and writing art history texts at my internship do i fucking want to research for my history class tonight even tho i should so i can let the professor know if my topic is viable? no i want to draw. and like even research aside i need to do dishes and laundry and pack

[twinklecheeks]

Friends With Benefits (Jeff Wittek Imagine) Part 6

Summary: Jeff and Y/N have been hooking up for a while. The whole vlog squad assumes they’re dating and Y/N does too but Jeff doesn’t like labels. He eventually starts to express interest in Natalie.

Note: Planning on making this a multiple part series, depending on how good it does.  You’re 21 & Latina in this (maybe) series. Also, I’d like to apologize for the typos, if there are any. I’m just illiterate lmao.  

-I’d also like to say that I am SO sorry about not updating the series in 8 months. I started writing this the week school started last semester. I attempted to do it during Thanksgiving & Christmas break but I didn’t have the energy to do it. I know that we’re all struggling in quarantine and going through withdrawal because David has only 1 video in almost 2 months. I’m going to *TRY* to update this 2 times a week.

Warnings! Pregnancy, smut, nsfw, 18+

Don't read this if you don't like smut

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Word Count: 1.5k

You and David have practically been dating soon after the gender reveal and finally made it official but you don’t plan to announce it on social media anytime soon. He’s been helping you a lot. Since you’ve found out you were having twin girls, you went straight to planning on how the nursery would look like. Everytime David comes over, he brings stuff like baby toys, clothes, the whole shabang. I know that David isn’t the father but he’s very excited about the babies. You thought your first trimester was difficult and it was but there’s a big problem when in the second trimester…. You’ve become horny 24/7; before pregnancy, you had sex often and you loved it. But since being pregnant, you’ve been deprived of it! You bought a bunch of dildos and vibrators cause you just couldn’t handle it anymore. You would rub yourself, fuck yourself with the dildo or use the vibrator several times just to get through the day.

Texting Kylie:

Y/n: “why didn’t you tell me the second trimester makes you super horny”

Kylie: “GIRL STOOOP. Looking back on my pregnancy, that was the funniest part. Your hormones are just all over the place. I used toys and it helped but I also was with Travis”

Y/n: “I’ve been using them but it doesn’t feel the same as actually fucking someone.”

Kylie: “Why don’t you ask David? ;)”

Y/n: “Whaaat noo! I can’t”

Kylie: “Why not? Isn’t he your boyfriend? It’s not like he would turn you down and plus, it’s not like you can get more pregnant than you already are.”

Y/n: “I mean true but idk. I just feel weird. I’m fat and pregnant with twins. I love my girls already but why couldn’t they just be one baby”

Kylie: “blame Jeff’s super sperm”

Y/n: “I also blame myself. We were fucking all the time, anytime, anywhere”

Kylie: “Anywhere?”

Y/n: “Yeah… remember Zane’s earthquake challenge video at target? Jeff and I may have had a quickie in one of the dressing rooms…”

Kylie: “What the fuck”

Y/n: “Yeah. I know. Not my proudest moment”

Kylie: “but girl i’m serious, ASK DAVID”

Y/N: “Ugh fine. But if he says no, I’m moving away and changing my identity because this shit is embarrassing”

*On the phone with David*

Y/n: “Heyy, can I come over?”

David: “Yeah, of course. Are you okay?

Y/n: “Well… technically yes but… ummm…. I’d rather just discuss this in person”

David: “Sure”

*Y/n arrives at David’s house*

Y/n: *Gives David a quick kiss* “Hey Dave.” David: “Hey babe. You sounded a little weird on the phone.” Y/n: “I mean you’re not wrong… I just have a little tiny problem and I’m going to lose my mind if it isn’t resolved” David: “what’s the problem?” Y/n: “Ugh this is so awkward I don’t want to ask” David: *David wheeze laugh* “Dude just tell me”, Y/n: “Okay umm… i’msuperfuckinghornyandi’mwonderingifyoucanhavesexwithmeifnoticompletelyunderstand.” David: “Can you please say it slower cause I only understood like 2 words.” Y/n: “I said that I’m super fucking horny and I’m wondering if you can have sex with me if not, I completely understand…” David: “Like, how bad is it?” Y/n: “Ooo boy it’s baaad.” David: “Well, we’re technically together and I wasn’t sure if you were thinking about taking that step because you’re pregnant.” Y/n: “I’m open to ANYTHING rn. I just need to be fucked HARD.”

David: *Grabs y/n’s hand and leads her to his room* Y/n: “Is Natalie home? I don’t want her to hear us.” David: “Don’t worry. She’s at Todd’s.” Y/n: “At Todd’s?” David: “Yeah, Todd had a thing for her before Jeff did and he basically went for Natalie when Todd told him that he was going to ask her out.” Y/n: *pulls in David for a needy kiss and moans* David: “wow you really are horny.” *Pushes y/n on the bed and takes off her shirt* Y/n: *unclips her bra* “Do anything that’ll make me cum please.” David: *looks at y/n’s tits and sucks on the right nipple* “Wow. Your tits have gotten… wow.” You cry out in pleasure, letting your head fall back, your mouth open. They were so sensitive that every twirl of his tongue made your pussy even more wet. Y/n: *smirks* “You’ve noticed?” David: “okay... I may have had wet dreams about you.” Y/n: “good.” David: *gets undressed and pulls off your pants* “you have no idea how much I’ve dreamt about eating you out.” Y/n: “please. Do something.” David: *His fingers reach your clit.”  Y/n: *You gasp at the feeling of him pressing down on your clit* “mmmm oh my god. Please suck on my clit.” David: *David twirls his tongue around your clit and fingers you* “babe you’re so wet. I can’t wait to fuck you sensless.” *David sucks your clit and fingers you faster* Y/n: “please don’t stop. I NEED to cum.” David: *feels her walls pulsate and she squirts on him* Y/n: “oh my god. Please make me cum like that 10 more times tonight.” David: “are you sure you want to do this?” Y/n: “I haven’t been this sure about something in a long time.” David: *aligns himself with your center and slowly thrusted into you.*  Y/n: *moans, almost screams* “holy fuck. I know your going slow not to hurt me but Dave, I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk.” David: *he hears you out and the lust took over and started pounding into you fast and hard* Y/n: “DAVID OH MY GOD PLEASE KEEP FUCKING ME I’M SO CLOSE.” David: “Shit I’m close too babe” *pounds y/n as fast as he can and cums inside her.” Y/n: *cums right after* “oh...my…” David: *pulls out and sees his cums drip out* “Damn. I don’t think I’ve ever cummed that hard.” Y/n: “If you keep fucking me like that, it’s going to be hard for me to keep my hands off you haha.” David: “I would not have a problem w/ that at all.”

(it’s getting close to thanksgiving and Jeff decides to fly home to Staten Island early and the only people who kind of know about the situation are his siblings)

Jeff: “Hey ma.” Jeff’s mom: “Hello Jeffrey. Natalie couldn’t come?” Jeff: “yeah no. We’re kind of on a break rn.” Jeff’s mom: “Oh well that's too bad. Hopefully she’ll come for Christmas.” Karyn (Jeff’s older sister): “hey Jeff. Can you help me out w/ shopping? I have to go to Manhattan” Jeff: “Sure.”

*On the Staten Island Ferry*  

Karyn: “Okay so now that we’re alone, can you actually tell me what the fuck did you do.” Jeff: “Excuse me? The fuck you talking about?” Karyn: “I know that made up bullshit about y/n getting knocked up by a rando and Natalie asking for a break is a damn lie. Y/n was in love w/ you but you ignored all the signs and Natalie, she would only ask for a break if you were being a fucking idiot. I’m your older sister. I know when you’re lying.” Jeff: “Ugh fine… Y/n is knocked up w/ my kids and I basically said some horrible stuff that wasn’t true. As for Natalie, she was there to see me say all those horrible things and she dumped me on the spot, in front of the whole friend group…” Karyn: *stares at Jeff dumbfounded* “Excuse me did you say KIDS as in PLURAL??!” Jeff: “Yeah… She’s pregnant w/ twin girls…” Karyn: “Oh Jeffrey why the fuck did you act that way. You’re such an idiot. If mom and dad found out about this, they’d literally murder you.” Jeff: “I don’t know… I think it was because I got into something so serious less than a year after being dumped by Cierra; I panicked and I sabotaged myself. I know I’m wrong but I already fucked everything up. Everybody hates me.” Karyn: “I thought you changed Jeff when you got out of Prison.” Jeff: “What do you mean you *thought*” Karyn: “You have trouble w/ responsibility. When we were at your trial, you said you were not guilty, even when you got to prison, you still said you weren’t guilty but you were.” Jeff: “That’s different.” Karyn: “How?? You’re refusing to accept responsibility for those 2 babies. Jeff, you’re almost 30 years old. It took you 4 years after you got out to come to terms with what you did. Is it gonna take you until your 34 to realize you fucked y/n and those twin girls over? What is she gonna say when they ask for their dad huh? Sorry, daddy didn’t care about you? You either fix things with y/n ASAP or I’m gonna tell mom and dad.” Jeff: “what the fuck are you 5?! Why we gotta bring them into this?” Karyn: “so they fucking knock some sense into you Jeff and you know they are 100x worse than I am. I ain’t doin’ nothing to you rn because we’re in public. Imma give you until New Years... if you don’t tell them, then they gonna hear it from me...”

Karyn was never afraid to tell Jeff and their other brother how it is. Jeff knew that Karyn was right but he had no idea how he could possibly apologize for being a horrible human being to you. Will Jeff apologize before New Years? Will y/n forgive him?  

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[what-a-messsss]

2x3 rewatch

I keep forgetting that Brach is still in S2.  Oops.  Also, I apparently went to check something in S6 last time I watched something, so it started at 6x2 instead of 2x3 and I yelled.  But anyway, on with this mess.  “Death Came in Like Thunder” apparently.  It sure did.

Ah yes, let us not forget that Branch is MANLEH.  This shall be proven to us by him murdering his cousin, Trunk, with big ax.  Chop chop, Branch, kill Trunk.  But oh no, must also show that he is People Smart, so must also lose because this makes him likable.  And many white people clap.  Yaaaay.  But be sure to say, “I let him win, Ferg,” while your competitor is right next to you, so he almost surely heard you.  Good good.

Oh Ferg.  Could you look more gormless if you tried?  (I mean, probably not, since presumably that was the goal of the actor, so he would have been trying.  But still.)  Bb.

Heh, nice thematic cut to Walt also chopping wood.  And YAY, Henry’s gorgeous truck (and gorgeous self).  I’m just going to take a moment to appreciate the fact that Henry rolls up and just helps himself to some of Walt’s thermos of coffee.  Because of course he does.  But I do so love these touches that they put in that do underline the fact that they are married have been besties for going on 40 years.  Also, I love this jacket of Henry’s.  The woven top, jean jacket sort of one?  Yeah, top 5 costume pieces of his for me.  (Also on that list, all basically tied with each other, basically any pants he wears.  I am reminded, when they cut back out to a full body shot.  Because I am very shallow, and he is very pretty.)

Haaaaaa.  And of course Cady talked to Henry before she talked to Walt.  Walt is a butthead.  And, yeah yeah, she just found out that he’d been lying to her for over a year, but that just proves my point that Walt is a butthead.  And we’re back to this whole idea that she left her phone, which just... ugh.  No.  But Henry’s face when he says that she said that she is safe, and he’s so worried, but still willing to respect her boundaries.

“She is an adult, Walt.”  “She’s my daughter.”  For fuck’s sake, you jackass, your ADULT daughter; that’s the whole flipping point!  Also, that little emphasis on my daughter, pfft.  If you didn’t want to feel like she preferred her cool dad to you, maybe try being less of an AAAAAAASSHOLE.  And, like, respecting her.  Even a weensy little bit.

“Etta Place”  I don’t remember if we find out why that’s the ‘assumed name’ that Cady chose, but I’m intrigued.  Wait, I just googled.  Looooool.  She spent years with Butch and Sundance.  Nice.

Walt is such a soft touch with teens.  *snack crackle pop* that kneecap back into place.  Vic starts this scene saying, “The 911 operator,” though, which is interesting, because I was kind of under the impression that Ruby was the main dispatcher, so it would be kind of heartening if she actually had back up with that.  ...Or maybe they’re just far enough out that a cell call made would be picked up by a tower farther out and have to be routed back in to the station/them.  I have no idea how that actually works.  Another rabbit hole for me to totally not go down.  Hopefully.  Shit.  They’ve apparently upped the fine for trespass since the show, though, because it’s $750 (or 6 months in jail) now and Walt says it’s $500.

And once again, we see Vic actually wearing gloves while investigating a suspicious death, and Walt just squinting into the distance helpfully.  I suppose “things got bad” in Basque country around WWII, but there has been friction there that dates back before the Spanish Civil War, or even the Carlist Wars the previous century.  It did get gnarly with the dictatorship of Franco, and the formation of the ETA in retaliation, though, so yeah.  (Francisco Franco is also on the list of people who anybody with a time machine should go back and beat the shit out of.)

Shit, I forgot about the animal death.

Knock knock, no answer.  Better just wander in without a warrant.  I know that the guy who they know lives there is dead, but still, no fricking warrant; I suppose the worry of a poisoning could count as probably cause?  

Gods, but there are moments when I do absolutely adore Vic, and they are usually when she’s taking the piss out of Walt.  “Reclusive bachelor chic; you and Marco have the same decorator.”  Looool.  But also, sad, because Martha has only been gone for a little over a year, and Walt is not the kind of person who would, like, change stuff and get rid of her things, so that’s kind of odd.  Maybe Henry and/or Cady went though and put away some of her things to try to help Walt move on?  But damn, the ‘excuse you’ look on Walt’s face when she does say it, pffft.

AND AGAIN, Vic wearing gloves, Walt with his bare ass hands picking up the picture of Picasso’s Guernica; can you at least *pretend* you’re a cop, *some* of the time, buddy?

Lol at the barrabilak; they are pretty well by the Rocky Mountains, so it’s probably not all that surprising that Walt’s had some “Rocky Mountain oysters” before.

I had forgotten that Vic had four brothers.  But her comment about Sal going off to look after the sheep and how if someone had told her that one of her brothers were dead she “wouldn’t care about any damn sheep,” I don’t know.  It kind of annoys me.  It’s totally in character for her, which is good, but I think it’s part of what can annoy me about her character.  Different people grieve differently, but also, I know she’s only been in Wyoming for a year or two, tops, but how is it so hard to fathom that someone one would be concerned about their livelihood, even in the face of personal tragedy?  Just, seeing beyond her own very narrow experience doesn’t seem like something she’s very good at.  It would be one thing if she’d framed it as “this is suspicious, and here’s why I think so as a cop,” but it was, “I wouldn’t react that way personally, so it’s sus.”  

Sure, be suspicious because there’s a suspicious death and family members are always suspects until ruled out, but approach it like a cop.  Or at least think about it from more angles than just your own, not terribly similar experience.  You’re a white city cop who can’t (or won’t) adjust to being in BF rural-ville, but these are immigrant shepherds whose family come from a homeland where the cops were just as likely to kill you as answer questions, and you’re side-eying a guy for going to make sure that their meal ticket doesn’t get obliterated?

I need to keep reminding myself that I really did want to like Vic.  I really did.  She just... they don’t make it easy for me.  Maybe she’s serving as an avatar for audience who don’t know about some of the culture stuff, and the audience get answers from her ignorance?  But honestly, I wish they’d picked a different way to handle that, if that’s what they were trying to do.  Her response to Henry being salty about Thanksgiving still really pisses me off.  Because it was shitty and racist, and... do we really need a character basically rolling their eyes and saying, “It was so long ago, why don’t you just get over it,” about something that is intrinsically tied to the genocide of so many people?  Why are Indigenous people just supposed to “get over it” but “Remember the Alamo” and “Southern Pride,” and shit?  Fuck’s sake.  Honestly, that might have been the moment when they lost me on her character.  She has moments where she’s awesome, but they never really address her being fucking racist or give her a chance to grow into a better person.  Which sucks a lot.  Fuck.  Ok, that was a lot.  Sorry.  Back to the actual ep.

AH, nice of you to beam in from the campaign trail, Brancheroo!

Uh, so I paused it to look at pic in the newspaper, and then being me, started to look at the articles surrounding the pic.  And the one with the headline “Fans Injured At Local Game” is actually about the Stewart case?  From 1x3?  I’m guessing that somebody went to the trouble of writing up an article for that for some S1 ep after it and they just plugged it in because when not paused, you might catch “Sheriff Longmire” there and that’s all they need.  Especially since the text starts to repeat after the first paragraph.  (I am the worst pedantic little shit.)  Ooooor, maybe even though it’s S2, it’s hardly been any time since 1x3?  The date on the newspaper is March 31, 2012, so there’s a timeline hint. 

Awwwwww, once Walt points out the bird, Ferg knows exactly what it is.  Occasional twitcher, are we, my lad?  “A red-tip meadowlark,” indeed.  Oh bb; Ferg’s face when he sees Walt looking at the pic of him with Branch in the paper.

“You go too fast, you miss the little things.”  Every once in a while, he actually sort of mentors Ferg.  I wish he did more of that, especially since we see later how capable Ferg can be.

Go suck an egg, Branch.  Why does she get all the “good” assignments?  Maybe because she was actually on the job when they found the body, not campaigning.

OPE.  Lizzie’s gift.  Yeah, I’d probably choke on that coffee if I were you, too, girl.  Better hope that there wasn’t perishable food stuffs in that gift, because that has been in there for a whiiiiiile, hasn’t it.  Wait, was Ferg in the office when Lizzie dropped off the gift?  Because his face said more than just “Did somebody give Vic a present?”  Suuuuper subtle with that whole pushing the drawer closed with your foot there, Vic.  Pfffft.

“Cyrano Caballero”  How daaaare that skeeve take Cyrano’s name in vain?!?!  (I have a thing about Cyrano de Bergerac.  It’s quite possibly my favourite play, and I adore the character, and have exactly 0 chill about it at all.  I find Brian Hooker’s translation of “The Ballade of the duel at the Hotel Bourgogne Between de Bergerac and a Boeotian” with “Then, as I end the refrian, thrust home,” vastly superior to any other translation that I’ve heard or read, though for the rest of it, I will grant that there are others to be preferred.  But that version of his Ballade is exquisite, and I will not be swayed.  Holy shit, FOCUS.  That is so very much not the point.)  It’s not even a throw away line in this ep, it’s just a random, very well chosen, if utterly appallingly insulting, company name.  It’s actually incredibly clever for what the business is, and if it didn’t make me so stomping mad, I would applaud whoever came up with it heartily.

Vic’s face listening to this jackass’ spiel is a thing of beauty.  “A good woman goes a long way of easing the obvious stresses of your daily life,” the jackass says, cutting his eyes at Vic when he says “obvious stresses,” and I caaaackle.

What is it about this guys’ horrible glasses that just makes him so much more hate-able?  I’m not entirely sure, but kudos to whatever costumer put those on him, because they are perfect.  In the ‘I want to punch him’ way of perfection.

And after all of that about Walt’s “lady friend,” Vic brings Lizzie’s present.  Womp womp.  That went super well.  Yuuuup, run while you can.

Poor Ferg.  Branch manipulates him, Vic ignores him, Walt shuts him down...  Poor guy just can’t get a break.

I actually kind of like this motel manager--the one who “doesn’t judge people” and is a stickler for warrants?  At least somebody in this county cares about warrants.  Also, those doors are actually really pretty.  Nice colour, and the carved scrollwork designs are nice.

What an odd shot: the one when they’re coming out of Walt’s office after talking to Skeevy McGrossFace and Rosa.  It’s a weird sort of shaky-cam stepping back, just preceding Branch walking, and then turns to follow him when he sit’s on his desk.  But it’s a really different style of shot than I can remember, so much so that it’s a bit jarring, especially after the series of nearly stationary close ups that we just had.  Weird. [18:42-18-50]

Cady!  I haven’t made much note of her costuming before this, but it seems notable that’s she’s only in monocromatics.  Especially next to Fales in muted tones, but still some colour, and surrounded by the colourful grafitti of the alley where her mother was stabbed.  Nice way of setting her apart from everything.

SHEEPIES!  Ooooo, that wagon is so cool.  Ah dang, the way that Sal corrects Walt’s pronunciation of his brother’s name is so gloriously passive aggressive.  Good for you, my dude.  Names are important, and people should have the respect to make the effort to get them right.

Aaaaaand Walt, the definition of Do, Don’t Tell, just shoves the guy to keep him from drinking the possibly dangerous water, rather than, like, using his words.  Walt’s gonna Walt.

Iiiiiiiii am a mess, truly.  It cuts to an architectural model and I start giggling like a 6th grader, because I know it’s going to be a Jacob scene.  He’s not even on screen yet, ffs.  HANDS.  I’m fine.  Totally fine.  (That’s totally a lie.  I just rewound to the beginning of the scene because I kept giggling too much to pay attention.  What the hell.)  First time we’ve seen one of the chips, which at this point must be a marketing mock-up, since nothing is built yet.  And he actually types, not just doing the hunt-and-peck thing that is sometimes easier on a tablet.

Looking at the weaving that is up on his wall (maybe a rug?) I’m hoping that the prop people actually did buy from Northern Cheyenne artisans.  They apparently did most of their filming in New Mexico, so I hope they made the effort to get the patterns right, and buy from the actual tribe they’re supposed to be portraying, I guess?  And now I’m distracted by the fact that the random hanging light behind Jacob is at a weird angle?  

Look, ever since I realized that the “Hey,” that Jacob does is apparently just A (thanks to it also happening in That Damned Xmas Movie) I am endlessly amused (and charmed) whenever Jacob does it.  I don’t know why it makes me so happy, but it does.  (This is legitimately embarrassing.  How much trouble I am having focusing.  Beyond my normal focus issues, which, as shown above, are already impressive.  Because thiiiiirst.)

“My boys at the lumber yard did just throw you a campaign rally.”  I love how Jacob is basically apparently not just his secret angel-investor, but also a sneaky campaign manager.  Did Branch just think shit like the rally just happened?  He’s not fricking Ferris Bueller; somebody organizes those.  And apparently it’s either Jacob himself, or someone who Jacob appointed to do so.

“I thought you were just a casino developer.”  You have noooo clue, Brancheroo.  “I prefer to remain a silent partner.  White people get nervous when Indians start taking back their land.”  Oooooope.  Especially interesting because there are previsions for the Tribal Council to purchase land to be Tribal land (Section 6 of Article IX of the Tribal Constitution), but this seems more along the lines of personal acquisition.  Though maybe not, because “on the board” doesn’t necessarily equate to being the owner.

The set up of Jacob’s office is so interesting.  Functionally for the show, it’s probably for better shooting angles, so that we can see more of Jacob behind the desk while Branch is sitting in front of it, but from an in-the-verse decorating standpoint, bit’s fascinating.  He has this focal wall with the gorgeous wall hanging, flanked by floor to ceiling window, but instead of having his desk centered on that wall and directly facing the bulk of the room, it’s at an almost 45 degree angle on a huge rug, and it’s so unexpected.  I kind of love it, and want to analyze it for days.  Also worth noting is that pride of place is given to the  Hotamétaneo’o headdress which is on a stand centered in front of the wall hanging.

How fucking tired must Jacob be.  He’s used to Walt... Walting, but then Branch comes in, who he is literally spending his own money to support in his bid for sheriff, and he pulls the same shit of assuming that he’s behind Bad Shit.  And then Branch frames it as “bad P.R,” so he’s there to “discuss it with [him] privately.”  And then basically threatens him with Walt.  I swear.  ...there is something a little amusing about Walt being used as the stick in the carrot and a stick method of negotiating.  He certainly is enough of a blunt object most of the time.

Oh fuck you so much, Branch.  Playing the “can’t give you details about an ongoing investigation” card as though you have some professional or moral leg to stand on after basically blackmailing Jacob with Walt’s vendetta is just such shit.  You don’t get to look down your nose at Jacob’s quid pro quo pragmatism when you were the one who came to him for financial backing.  You sanctimonious little shitheel.  If you didn’t want to deal with Jacob, you shouldn’t have taken his $100k.  He’s a business man, and you’re an investment, and not a quixotic one.

“He’s probably the only person to have died from [hemlock] since Socrates.”  And then Walt’s incredulous look and her, “Alright, I googled it,” were subtle comedic gold.

Ooooooo, that was a nice little shot.  Not quite foreshadowing, but showing Branch’s suspicions and sort of inviting the audience to share them.  Walt says his bit about the Army poisoning “Indian wells” to kill them off and get their land, and then we see Branch fiddling with the Four Arrows chip and narrow his eyes considering and slip the chip into his pocket, looking suspicious.  It’s a really neat little moment of visual storytelling, no lines, literally three seconds long, just sort of snuck in there, but super effective.  Really nicely done.

And again, Cady is in monochromatics.  And, shit, just gave Fales Henry’s name.  Aaaaaand right after, she realizes that the junkie was killed and realizes that it had to have been one of her dads (or so she thinks).

Sal’s monologue in the cell is a good emotional payoff that plays off of Vic’s comments towards the beginning of the episode.  I see the narrative worth of her making them, and how the structure of the episode benefits from it; but seeing those writing elements from the outside of the show doesn’t make me able to like her as a character who said them in-universe.  And then the threat Sal makes of vengeance on someone who killed one he loves also underscores the stuff with Cady’s investigation into her mother’s death very well.  As much as I gripe about the writing *cough S6 cough finale cough* there really is some damn good writing in this show, and I don’t show enough appreciation for it.

Huh, and now there’s a sort of inverse of that weird shot preceding Branch from earlier, but this one is much more effective and less off-putting.  This one [33:00] precedes Walt as he walks back into his office, still a medium close up, but it’s much steadier, and the way it is framed, it does quite a bit to convey his mindset, and he walks out of the shot and we see the three deputies following him in like baffled ducklings, making the shot serve another purpose, too.  Which honestly makes that earlier shaky follow shot of Branch even weirder, because this one was so much better.

And then Walt has his creepy little speech about how someone would want to watch the light go out of their eyes and not caring if you get caught.  I do appreciate that when he’s talking about the psychology of killing with poison he doesn’t just call it a “woman’s method” which media so often does.  It might have been the writers keeping who the killer was abstruse, but it was still more gender neutral.  Especially since according to The U. S. Department of Justice's report on Homicide Trends in the United States (1980 to 2008) of all poison killers in that time period, 60.5 percent were male and 39.5 percent female.  (Table 5 on page 10.)  So that long held idea that even Sherlock Holmes was written to have that poison is “of course” a woman’s weapon is pretty crap.

Awwww, the good old days when Walt paid attention to animals.  ...I am still bizarrely salty about the fact that he never named his horse.  What a good pupper!  

And then we have a classic example of Sneaky!Walt, which always takes people quite by surprise, because he’s usually as subtle as Miley Cyrus.

Also because when he does this, it tends to be pretty fucked up, in a Make Someone Think They’re About To Die way.  And then he does His Thing, where he just lays out all of his suppositions, with no proof, only the terror of her thinking that she’s been poisoned and you’re withholding medical intervention to get her to confess.  And is, irritatingly, correct about his theories.  But I’m pretty sure this qualifies as coercing a confession?  She thinks she’s fucking dying.  Even Vic looks at him like it’s fucked up, and her moral compass where he’s concerned is... skewed.

They way this reveal was played out, (”How’d they find her so fast?”  “Hard to say...”) is somewhat ambiguous as to whether it’s supposed to be that Branch went there to tell Jacob or not, but I kind of doubt it?  I kind of figure that the meeting that Jacob was having when Branch rambled in was already with Rosa signing the paperwork.  Jacob is smart.  So, HAH.  Little good your “can’t comment on an ongoing investigation” schtick did.

And then the news that someone in law enforcement has been asking after Henry.

“Lizzie was waiting for you here tonight.  You should talk to her, Walt.  She seems to think she is in a relationship with you.”  ....omgs.  The tone.  I mean, yes, the blisteringly glorious SASS, but how does one not read that as incredibly shippy?  Howwwww?

“You are an honest man, Walt.  I would like you to stay that way.”  Oh Henry.  When did you decide that you weren’t?  Was it when you hired Hector?  Or was there something before?  ...I feel like there were things before that.  Hello darkness my old friend.

“It is not your job to protect me.”  “It is my job...”  THOSE WERE THE DAYS.  Those were the fucking daaaaaays.  And the emotions on Henry’s face after Walt says, “That was my right,” as though Henry cheated him of something.  I am so deep in OT3 feels I cannot even see daylight here.  The feels of them having been an OT3 and then Walt pulling this shit, and Henry having to defend his own “right” to avenge Martha?  It wrecks me.  “A good woman was murdered.  A bad man is dead.  End of story.”  

[winterromanov]

Maybe a college Bucky one where he’s being playing games out of town, and trying to study for exams and he’s just so tired but trying to keep going and reader makes him nap and relax and it’s just very Soft ☺️

pairing: bucky x reader (set in the same universe as this fic)

Trying to play football and also be a competent college student is an Incredibly Difficult Feat. You know this, because watching Bucky vault himself from away games to home games to mid terms to finals is about the most exhausting thing you’ve ever seen. If he’s not studying he’s at practice, and if he’s not playing he’s in an exam. It’s like watching a manic, sleep-deprived whirlwind, living almost entirely off coffee and takeout noodles.

He’s not taking care of himself. He’s pushing and pushing and pushing, trying not to let anybody down--as if he could ever do that.

“You don’t have anything to prove,” you say, as he crashes face-down on the bed in your dorm, the night before he leaves to play a game at Harvard and minutes after his Cold War history deadline. You’ve not seen him eat anything the last twenty-four hours. “Look--you won the last game. Steve said you could sit this one out.”

A vague mumbling comes from your bed. His face is smothered by the pillow and he’s too exhausted to even turn over, so you poke his ass with your foot. His hand reaches out, reflexes still ridiculously quick, pulling you onto the bed with him.

“Sorry, love,” you smirk, curling as close to him as your tiny mattress will allow. His arm pulls you close to his waist, palm splayed across your back. His heartbeat is unrelenting beneath his shirt, thudding between you. “Didn’t quite hear that one.”

His head shifts so you’re basically nose-to-nose, his grin sleepy and delirious. He’s gonna pass out any second. You’ve seen it many, many times before in the last hectic few weeks--you’re probably gonna see it a few more. “I’ll be fine after nap. Promise.”

“Don’t you dare fall asleep before I can force a pizza down you,” you warn, and he laughs, deliberately snuggling into the pillow and letting his eyes flicker closed. You can’t resist--running your hand through his hair, along his face. Kiss his forehead. “Goddamn it, Buck. You’re making it very difficult for me to look after you.”

“You being here is enough,” he says softly and before you have chance to reply he’s gone, lost in some dream. You slowly creep out of his embrace, making the pizza for him anyway. By the time you wake up the next day his body is a phantom shape in your bed but the pizza is gone--he’s left you a bright pink post-it note on the plate. Scribbled in his usual scrawl are the words thank you always favourite girl.

-

we won!!! harvard ain’t better than us at FOOTBALL

wish u could have been there

renaissance lit is being a bitch :(( well done you STAR. miss you more every moment so get back quick

should i hijack the bus and speed down the freeway

if you must

consider it done

love you

love you more than anything

-

The next game is thankfully a home one against Yale so you can at least keep an eye on him--you’re just protective, that’s all, not wanting him to burn out in front of you. There’s a lot of gym sessions and library cramming and a grand total of one dinner date at his apartment, where you made a pasta dish with as many vegetables as you could think of in as possible (his mom had sent you a message afterwards with immense gratitude because her son needed his greens, damn it). The following evening you’d wrapped yourself in one of his jerseys and sat in the bleachers alongside an injured Sam--injured and bitter about it--and waited in the lights and the noise for the game to begin.

“Bucky tells me you’re worried about him,” Sam interjects rather suddenly and when you blink back, he shrugs his non-injured shoulder nonchalantly. “Not that I blame you. That dude just doesn’t let up, does he?”

“You could say that,” you reply, shivering a little. The November air is cold, even wearing Bucky’s sweater. “He keeps telling me the season will be over before long, but I...I don’t want that to be a couple of weeks too much for him, you know?”

Sam hums thoughtfully. Around you, the crowd practically fizzes with excitement, covered with facepaint and aggressively chanting team songs at the opposing side. You’d never been to a college football game before you started dating one of the team’s star players, but you have to admit, the atmosphere is kinda addictive. Watching Bucky play is kinda addictive.

“If I know Bucky, and boy do I know him,” Sam eventually replies, squeezing up closer to you as more people gather into your stand. A girl is openly staring at you both--it doesn’t happen that often, but more so at games. People know Bucky, and Sam, so people know you. “He’ll get through this all okay. He always does, (Y/N). I’d been pretty damn surprised if he doesn’t make captain next year.”

You stare at the bright, clean grass of the field, and think of a boy so fucking exhausted from trying to balance his life that he can barely function half the time. Bucky would be an awesome captain. You just don’t want him to become a dead firework because of it.

-

The game ends up being pretty close but Yale just snatch the victory. It doesn’t mean that they can’t win the season, but. Bucky makes his way over to your stand at the end of the game like he always does, taking off his helmet and mouthguard. He also looks extremely deflated, like he always does when they lose.

“It’s okay,” you say, taking his face in your hands. He looks angry at himself. And you know what he’s thinking. I should have pushed harder. “Shit happens. You were still amazing.”

He kisses you over the barrier in a display of affection you were once too shy to give away in public, but you need him as much as he needs you. When you break apart you plant a chaste, gentle peck on his jawline, running your thumb over the shadow. 

“You two make me sick,” Sam interrupts the moment, arms folded. Bucky flips him off while smiling sweetly and you can’t help but laugh. “Honestly. Didn’t ask to be violated, but here we are.”

“Payback for every single time I’ve walked in on you doing unspeakable things with the girl from the top floor on our kitchen counter.” Bucky snaps back teasingly. You like watching the banter unfold between the two of them. You’d be worried if Bucky and Sam weren’t taking the piss at every given opportunity.

Sam gestures pointedly at his injured right shoulder. “I cannot believe you’d treat a fallen comrade like that. I’m disgusted.”

“And so was I when I saw the state of the kitchen counter.” Bucky gives you one last kiss, clutching your hand. “See you after I hit the showers, yeah?”

“I’ll be waiting.” Your promise him, and his eyes glow just a little brighter.

-

When Bucky facetimes you from Brown the very next week, he looks like he hasn’t slept for at least three days. His Ancient Chinese history exam is literally a day after he arrives back from the trip and he’s frantically cramming in his hotel room in Rhode Island, while also trying not to fuck up the team’s chances of winning the season.

“Just one more game after this,” his grainy voice says on the other end of the video feed, head lolling against the headboard of his Holiday Inn bed. You wish he was in your bed. God, you wish he was in your bed. “And the season is over and I don’t have to be away from you ever again.”

“I don’t think your mom would like it if I stole you away for Thanksgiving.” You joke, tongue poking between your teeth. His lips curve, half a laugh escaping from his chest.

“That’s why she personally invited you to stay with us for the holidays. She’s worried you might sneak in there first and drag me to Virginia. She already knows I’d go wherever you go.”

Your smile is kinda wistful. “Except when you go to Rhode Island.”

“Except when I go to Rhode Island.” He repeats, sighing dramatically. He rubs one of his tired eyes. “Ugh. Who thought coinciding pre-Thanksgiving exams and football season was a good idea, huh?”

“I have no idea, but I’m prepared to have words with them.” You tilt your head. “Don’t work too hard, yeah? It’s one exam. It’ll all be okay in the end.”

“I know, I know.”

You want to keep talking, on and on until the early hours like you do sometimes, because time is apparently not real when you and Bucky are on the phone together. But he needs sleep, and you need sleep, and occasionally you’ll do things for the greater good. “Good luck for tomorrow. Brown won’t know what’s hit ‘em.”

“They better not,” he jokes, “Will you be live-streaming the game?”

As if you wouldn’t. You can’t pretend that you always know what’s going on or any of the rules, but you always try to watch him if you can. He’d do the same for you, over and over and over. “Already got the tab open on my laptop and everything.”

Bucky’s grin is near effervescent, even through your patchy wifi connection. “I love you more than anything, you know that?”

“I may have had an inkling.”

-

hello y/n 

HELLLOOOOO

u know brown are the best losers because they lose and give you TEQUILA

omg are you drunk

never been DRUNK IN MY LIFE!!!! but im at this cool party and stEv e has found a girl and i miss u

i miss u so much . and like i just do generally 

whenever ur not ar oUnd 

oh sweet boy. you are very drunk.

im serious though

sometimes i think about how much i love you and it scares me

because then i th ink what it would be like if you wreent there 

and that makes me so fucking sad i cant breathe

y/n

y/n ???????????????

hellooo 

have u gone to bed

no, just messaging steve to make sure he gets you back safe. im not going anywhere. just please please look after yourself. love you always

-

“I’m sorry about those messages I sent you last night.”

You grab him in the tightest hug possible, his hold all still hanging off his arm, rain spattering down from dark clouds outside his apartment block. You hold him for at least ten years, you reckon, because the thought of him being so fucking sad he can’t breathe makes you so fucking sad you can’t breathe.

“You’re a terrible drunk who says things that make me emotional.” You laugh tearfully into his sweater and he grips you even harder, if possible. The shards of glass jabbed between your ribs start to dissolve as you inhale every single part of him.

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “I know.”

-

His last game is the day of your renaissance literature exam and for once you’ve been the one not eating and relying on caffeine, anxiety lingering round your jittery bones like an irritating ghost. Your interactions with Bucky are a battle between you wishing him aggressive luck for what could be the winning game while he equally aggressively says your exam will go fine, they always go fine, it’s an easy A for sure. 

Your exam isn’t until the afternoon so you spend the morning pacing about your bedroom looking at a sporadic mess of post-it notes on your wall declaring quotes and context that you hope will just stick in your brain. When Lizzie from down the hall says there’s a package for you you don’t actually think much of it, too busy to deal with something you’ve probably forgotten you ordered from Amazon--but she makes some comment about how fancy it is, wrapped up in striped paper.

Your name is in print across the front so it doesn’t leave a clue on the sender, but as soon as you rip into it and find a bundle of things nestled between tissue paper, you know instantly. It’s kind of embarrassing you didn’t click sooner. 

Dear Y/N - you’ll ace it, favourite gal. 

You try not to break down in sleep-deprived and emotional tears as you pull out a brand new sweater in your favourite shade of burgundy, a vintage copy of Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, three different kind of Hershey’s bars and a dumb little teddy bear wearing your college jersey. He’s sent you a fucking care package. He’s away at Princeton, and he’s sent you a care package, because exams drive you crazy and he’s just... Well, he’s Bucky.

-

i got your present

have i ever mentioned that i love you

i may have had an inkling

-

He doesn’t really leave you a choice, does he? Besides, the game is only at Princeton, and if you catch the train the moment you escape the uneasy warmth of a crowded exam hall you should be able to get there in time. 

You’ve never been to Princeton stadium before, but you grab one of the last tickets available and rush onto their crowded bleachers just before the game is about to begin. The lights are heady, the atmosphere is electric, and you’re about to watch the man you lovingly, completely, unrelentingly call your own play the game he loves almost as much as you at a stadium forty miles from home. 

hey steve, you text his closest friend, hoping he’ll see it, get buck to look at the front of the stairs near block d when you come out

y/n if this is what i think it means he’s going to lose his goddamn mind

:)

When the team runs out you notice the number five on his jersey straight away, a constant fleeting image in your head from the countless games you’ve seen him play. Even from a distance, Steve’s eyes catch your own and his arm starts gesturing violently in your direction, Bucky taking a couple of moments to catch on.

It’s a good job the game isn’t due to start for a few more minutes, because absolutely nothing can stop him from automatically sprinting to your side of the field and kissing you senseless, cameras and crowds be damned.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he says on a dizzy outtake of breath.

“Couldn’t miss the last game of the season, could I?” You gently push his chest, urging him to go back to his team. “And neither can you. Go back to them. I’ll be waiting.”

He steals your lips for one more second, giddy and pumped full of adrenaline. “I really lucked out the day I met you, didn’t I?”

His mouth is hot. Hot. Unmistakable. Real. Always, always real. “Not as lucky as me.”

my masterlist

send me a request

[swanqueeneverafter]

Sins of the Past Pt.27

Storybrooke. The Dragon’s Lair. (After finally managing to get everyone out of the bar, Zelena stays late to clean up.) Zelena: (Hearing a noise outside, calls out:) “We’re closed!” (Walking to the door she peers through the blinds but sees no one. Checking the door is locked, Zelena walks back to the bar when she hears a door close down the hallway. Reaching behind the bar she retrieves a baseball bat and goes to investigate. Heading down the steps that lead to the stock room, Zelena sees that the door is ajar. Pushing it open, she grips the bat with both hands and enters the room.) Robin Hood: “Zelena!” (Dropping the bat, Zelena rushes over to Robin, who is tied to a chair.) Zelena: “Robin. Oh, my God. What happened?” (The door slams shut and Mordred appears behind them.) Mordred: “I happened.”

Zelena: “Ah, so you’re the one everyone’s been searching for. What a disappointment. (Mordred draws a knife:) Stop. (Puts her hands up:) Robin’s got nothing to do with this, okay? You’ve got me now. Okay? Just let him go.” Mordred: “You know, I think people like you give magic a bad name. People like you are the reason Uther banished magic from Camelot, why my father was killed and my people forced to live in caves.” Zelena: “I never even crossed paths with Uther. I didn’t force him to make those choices. And neither did my sister or Emma or anyone else you want to blame for your pitiful existence. You can’t go around killing people because of my bad mistakes.” Mordred: “Yeah, you’re right. It’s time for me to just kill you.” (Mordred lunges at Zelena with the knife, slicing her palm. Trying to put distance between them, Zelena topples over some barrels, causing Mordred to drop the knife. Punching and kicking the man, Zelena gains the upper hand until Mordred sweeps her legs. In an effort to free himself, Robin tips over his chair. Momentarily distracted by this, Mordred allows Zelena to gain possession of the knife and she charges him.) Zelena: (Pinning him against the wall, knife at his throat:) “I don’t want to hurt you.” Mordred: (Chuckles:) “Yes, you do. Do it. What’s one more kill to the Wicked Witch?” Zelena: “No. I’m not that person anymore. I’ve changed. (Knocks him out with the hilt of the knife:) More or less. (Returns to Robin’s side:) Are you hurt?” Robin: “I’m fine, just a little embarrassed, I’ll admit.” Zelena: (Smiles:) “Let me untie you, and I’ll allow you to prove your manliness to me, all right?” Robin: “Agreed.” (While Zelena leans over to untie him, Robin glances over to see that Mordred has now vanished and taken the bloody knife with him.) Sheriff’s Station. (David and Snow White are shoved into two holding cells. Snow collapses onto the bed, barely able to remain upright while David pleads his case to Hook.) David: "This is just one big misunderstanding.” Hook: “No I understand perfectly, mate. Your wife gets drunk, causes an uproar and attacks my wife. My daughter then has to step in, while still recovering from her ordeal I might add, and calls me to help clean up the mess. Is there anything else you’d like to add?” David: “I suppose another apology won’t make a difference?” Hook: “Oh it’ll make all the difference in the world. But not from you. (Points:) She has to apologise to Mal and Lily here tomorrow morning when she’ll actually have to mean what she says. Until then you can both sleep it off and sober up. Have a good evening.” David: (Hook turns off the lights and leaves:) “Hook! Hook! (Turning at the sound of loud snoring, David sees that his wife has already fallen asleep:) Great.”

Storybrooke. Swan-Mills House. The Next Morning. (With the sunlight pouring through the curtains, Emma rolls over and purrs in Regina’s ear.) Emma: “Morning sunshine.” Regina: (Her voice slightly hoarse:) “Is it morning already?” Emma: (Kisses her shoulder and then her neck:) “Mmhmm.” Regina: (Opens her eyes and squints at the sun:) “Ugh. Anything you can do about that?” Emma: (Chuckles:) “One too many last night?” Regina: “I guess so. Though not as many as your mother, I’ll wager.” Emma: “Hm. Speaking of, I just got a text from Lily, I’d better go in and bail my parents out of jail.” Regina: “Put on some coffee before you go? I promised I’d take Ella to my office to check some records.” Emma: (Kisses her cheek:) “You got it.” (Emma gets out of bed while Regina plants her face in the pillow, trying to avoid the sunlight.) Camelot. Forest. (Morgause meets her undead knights in the woods. They dismount their horses and bow before her.) Camelot Castle. Council Chamber. (Guinevere and Morgana listen to Lancelot while he recounts what happened at Idirsholas.) Guinevere: “So it’s true, the Knights of Medhir have risen?” Xena: (Cutting in:) “Yes and there’s only one person foolish or desperate enough to raise such an army.” Gabrielle: “Morgause.” Morgana: (Panicked, to Guinevere:) “Guin, I had no knowledge of this, I swear.” Guinevere: “Are you certain that Morgause is behind this?” Xena: (Scoffs:) “Now is not the time to wait for proof.” Gabrielle: “Your Majesty, need we remind you the last time we waited for evidence of Morgause’s guilt?” Xena: (Draws her sword and points it at Morgana:) “Or hers for that matter.” Guinevere: (Stepping between Xena and Morgana:) “Enough! I trust Morgana and I will not have her threatened like this.” Xena: (Lowers her sword:) “She may have you fooled but right now there’s an army of the undead riding towards Camelot and we have no way of stopping them.” Guinevere: (Nods. To Lancelot:) “Gather reinforcements, position every available man we have at the gates. If we can’t stop them we can at least slow them down.” Lancelot: “It will be done, my Queen.” (Lancelot leaves with his knights while Xena continues to glare at Morgana.)

Wonderland. (Will and Anastasia walk through the woods.) Will: “Remind me again why you can’t just poof us to Storybrooke?” Anastasia: “A lot’s happened since you’ve been away. There was a coup in Camelot, refugees, captured dragons, it’s been a whole drama. Long story short, Storybrooke’s borders are magically protected, so I can’t get us there using my magic.” The White Rabbit’s House. (Will knocks firmly on the door.) White Rabbit: (Calling out from inside:) “Nobody’s home!” Will: “Now, Rabbit, don’t be that way.” White Rabbit: “No rabbit here! Just a happy family enjoying some quality time together. Alone!” Will: “This won’t take more than a minute.” White Rabbit: “Time is a precious commodity, Knave. One minute is sixty seconds which is sixty thousand milliseconds. Do you know how much I can accomplish in sixty thousand milliseconds?” Will: “You wouldn’t be enjoying any milliseconds if I hadn’t found your bloody family. Now, open the door.” White Rabbit: (Reluctantly opens the door:) “What is it you want?” Will: “It’s not about what I want. (Steps aside, revealing Anastasia:) It’s about what she wants.” White Rabbit: (Shocked:) “Wha-” (The White Rabbit runs away from the door, taking refuge behind the kitchen stove. Will and Anastasia enter the house.) Anastasia: “Please, Rabbit, don’t be afraid. I’m not gonna hurt you.” White Rabbit: “You’ve already taken my wife, my children, my honor. What more could you possibly want from me?” Anastasia: “Your forgiveness.” Will: “It’s true, Rabbit, it’s been kind of her thing lately.” Anastasia: (Continues:) “What I took from you when I was the Red Queen, I can never give back, and there’s nothing that I can offer you to make up for what you’ve already lost, but what I can say is, I’m sorry, Rabbit. Terribly sorry.” White Rabbit: (Shakes his head, steps out from behind the stove:) “What’s done is done. Why do you care if I forgive you?” Anastasia: “Because we need your help.” White Rabbit: “With what?” Anastasia: “I need you to take us to Storybrooke, we don’t have much time but we need to make a stop on the way.” Storybrooke. Sheriff’s Department. (Snow White stands holding the bars to her cell while apologising to Lily, who seems uninterested.) Snow White: “I’m truly sorry, Lily. I don’t know what came over me.” Lily: “About six shots and a bacardi chaser, according to Zelena.” Snow White: “I never would have said any of those things if-” Lily: “If you weren’t drunk? Well that’s honest at least.” Snow White: “Please, Lily. We’ve been in here all night, we told Neal we’d only be a couple of hours.” Lily: (Holds up her coffee cup:) “I just saw Neal. He’s having a great time serving people napkins at Granny’s.”

Elsa: (Sitting perched on one of the desks:) “Oh yes he was so sweet, Snow. You should’ve seen him running around the diner laughing and talking to everyone. It was so-” Emma: (Enters:) “Charming?” David: “Emma, thank God. Please can you get us out of here?” Emma: “No can do, Dad. (Holds up a note:) It says here your release is dependent on you apologising to Maleficent.” David: “But it’s Thanksgiving!” Emma: “Right, which is why you should be thankful she’s not pressing charges against you two. Now I don’t want to be here any more than you do, I’m just here to keep the peace.” Snow White: “But eventually Neal’s going to worry where we are.” Emma: “Hey, you’re not the only one unable to pick up their kid. Since you’re both in here and because Regina’s helping Ella with something at her office, I had to ask Belle to pick up Maria from the convent for us.” Convent of the Sisters of Saint Meissa. (Arriving at the convent, Belle enters the babies’ nursery room, carrying a formula bottle for Maria.) Belle: “Why, hello, little one. Hey. Did you sleep well? Yeah?” Mother Superior: (Enters:) “Belle. What are you doing here?” Belle: (Holds up the bottle:) “Uh, formula for the baby?” Mother Superior: (Laughs:) “Of course. Here. I’ll help.” (She goes to pick up Maria but sensing something’s not quite right, Belle stops her.) Belle: “Uh, no it’s all right, I’ve got her.” Mother Superior: “Oh.” Belle: (Suspicious:) “Uh, Mother Superior, what… what’s going on?” Mother Superior: “Nothing. Everything’s fine.” Belle: “Mm…”

Mother Superior: (Enters, holding her wand:) “No, it’s not.” Belle: “What…” Mother Superior: (Stands in front of the imposter:) “Who are you?” Imposter: (Chuckles:) “You really are a clever fairy.” (Mordred morphs back into his normal appearance.) Belle: (Gasps:) “No, no, no. People are searching for you. Ho-How did you…” Mordred: “All you need to know is that I’ve come for the baby. So, if you wish to remain alive, step aside.” (Mordred picks up Maria who is now crying.) Belle: “Put her… put her down.” Mordred: “Or what? Hmm? You’ll smite me with your book learnin’?” Mother Superior: (Pointing her wand at Mordred:) “Oh, I have something more than that.” Mordred: “Please. Neither of you would dare risk hurting this child.” Belle: (Breathing heavily:) “No, you… you don’t want to take that baby.” Mordred: “Oh yes I do, and I don’t mind hurting you to get what I want.” Belle: “Okay. We’ll see.” (Belle reaches to try and grab Maria back, but Mordred’s eyes glow golden and he blasts Belle and Mother Superior backwards.) Mayor’s Office. (Regina enters her office and finds Ella looking through some of the files she requested.) Regina: “Well, Mr. K says that’s all the records he has available. Have you found what you needed yet?” Ella: “Almost.” Regina: (Glancing at her watch, anxious to get the turkey in the oven:) “Perhaps if you told me what you were looking for?” Ella: “I’m trying to reconcile in my head how someone so sweet and loving could do such terrible things to so many people.” Regina: “What?” Ella: “I could even forgive all of that and put it all down to you being in a dark place. But to stand there and lie to me, to send me on some wild goose chase when you’ve known the truth the whole time.” Regina: “Ella, I’m sorry but I don’t-” Ella: “Or maybe because you’ve killed so many, you just don’t remember her?” Regina: “Ella, what is this?” Ella: “I know it was you who killed my mother, Regina. (Pulling a carving knife from her back pocket, she slams it down on the desk in front of her:) And now I want to know why.”

Sheriff’s Department. (Now joined by Hook, Emma and Lily continue preparations to close down the office for the long holiday weekend.) David: “How much longer are you going to keep us here for? We have to go home, shower and change before coming to your place for dinner.” Hook: (Cutting in:) “Maleficent is a night person, mate. Always has been. She’ll make an appearance shortly, don’t worry.” Snow White: “Oh I’m not worried, I’m furious.” Hook: “Temper, temper. Perhaps it’s in the public’s interest to keep you behind bars after all.” Emma: (Rolling her eyes:) “Keep it together, Mom. I’m giving Maleficent another twenty minutes and then we’re all getting out of here.” (Zelena enters, accompanied by Robin.) Lily: “Zelena, Robin, what’s the matter?” Robin: “My Mom was attacked by that knight you’re all looking for.” Emma: “Mordred? When did this happen?” Zelena: “Last night after Regina’s show. I was closing up and-” Robin: “Mordred tied up Robin Hood in the basement and slashed my Mom’s hand with a knife. Show them.” (Robin grabs Zelena’s hands raises it.) Hook: “Why haven’t you used your magic to heal it?” Zelena: “I’ve tried that, genius. There must’ve been a magical substance on the blade or something to stop the wound from closing.” Emma: “Why would Mordred come after you?” Zelena: (Shrugs:) “Family is always an easy target. (Inclines her head towards the cells:) And I see those two idiots are already locked up. Maybe he figured by going after me he could get to you?” Emma: “If it’s me he wants, why not come directly at me?” Lily: “What took you so long to report this?” Zelena: “Oh I had to spend the night soothing Robin Hood’s ego. Besides, I walloped Mordred pretty thoroughly, I doubt he’ll be coming after me again.” Rumplestiltskin: (Enters:) “No, he found an easier target.” Emma: (Sees him enter with Belle, carrying baby Gideon:) “Rumple, Belle, what- (Stops short:) That’s not Maria.” Belle: (Shakes her head, clutching Gideon tightly:) “No, I’m so sorry, Emma.” Emma: (Looking back and forth between Rumplestiltskin and Belle:) “Where’s Maria?!” Rumplestiltskin: “There’s no easy way to say this, but Mordred has your daughter, Emma. We believe he’s taken Maria to Camelot.”

[afictionaladventure16]

The Pen Pal Project (Chris Evans x Latina!OC)

Masterlist 

Previously on The Pen Pal Project...

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety

Word Count: 1,340

Chapter 10

Letter #10

November 23rd, 2017

“Maybe you should talk to her,” John said softly into the phone, he had been listening to his sister, Julie, speak about how Thanksgiving just didn’t feel the same anymore. Knowing very well that the topic about their mother was a touchy subject with Julie, he just had to encourage her to speak to the woman that gave birth to them.

“John, you know damn well why I don’t,” Julie retorted, letting out a sigh. The mention of her mother made her angry, sad… all these emotions. “I get it, you want to restore things, patch things up. But you don’t know what it was like. She treated you like a king and frankly, you don’t have a say in this.”

“Alright, Julie,” John defended, he knew she was already getting riled up about the topic, “I’m sorry I mentioned it.”

Julie walked around her dad's office, looking at the photos that were sat on the bookshelf. Gently brushing a photo of her and her brother when they were younger, back when they had a mutually feeling of hatred for each other, a sibling rivalry, “it’s fine,” Julie said softly. Most people would find how close they are quite odd. But the distance brought them close. The phone calls from unknown numbers haunted her, thoughts traveled, maybe it was the call that announced her brother's death. With every phone call, every chance he got to visit, every letter, they became close siblings. Best friends, their parents warned them when they were younger, that they would become.

“Remember when dad used to tell us that we’d become best friends?” She asked as she held the frame in her hand, the photo of a younger self, being wrestled to the ground by her older brother.

John let out a soft chuckle, “yeah, man, that used to piss me off! I was so determined to prove them wrong, I guess that’s why I was always mean to you.”

Julie laughed, “but look at us now.”

“Awww are you calling me your best friend?”

Julie rolled her eyes, “way to ruin the moment,” she muttered into the phone.

There was rustling in the other end, John let out a heavy sigh, “I have to go, Julie.” She knew the phone call had to end soon, although, she was grateful that her family got the chance to speak to him and she was grateful she had the chance as well.

Julie sighed, “I love you, bruh.”

“I love you too, sis,” John said with a slight chuckle from his sister's tone of voice.

“And have a Happy Gobble day,” she added.

“You too,” John stayed silent, hating to say goodbye to his family, it felt like if saying goodbye was a hint that he may never speak to them. “I’ll see you later.” With that, he hung up the phone. Julie placed the frame back on the bookshelf, she wishes she could just speak to her younger self. Give her a warning, if that would be alright. Would it ruin things? Would things turn out for the better? She would never know.

Time passed by, Julie watched the Macys Thanksgiving parade with her cousins and then ate Thanksgiving dinner. She finally called it a night after Seven, knowing she couldn’t handle the socialization anymore, she needed time to herself. She drove the empty streets, passing lines waiting outside stores like Target or Best Buy for the next day's festivities. It was all part of the holidays. Julie passed by the postal office, noticing the lights for the room that held P.O. boxes were on, she decided she might as well check, just in case.

She walked into the building, bidding a smile to a woman as she walked out. Julie opened the P.O. box, smiling as she noticed the envelope inside. Quickly grabbing it, she ran back to her car to open the letter:

Dear JuJu,

You had me worried there, I was about to send out an army just to make sure you were alright. Although I am extremely jealous that you went to Disneyland without me, I am hurt about it too. But it sounds like you have amazing friends if they got you tickets for Disneyland.

That’s one try, Juju! Chrissy? Really? That’s all you came up with? I’m offended!

He sounds like an amazing man. It must have been hard to lose his best friend but the way he just honored him by naming his son after him. He sounds so kinder hearted. Ugh, I didn’t know you could volunteer to be a baby cuddler! I have to see if the hospital nearby does this, I so need to volunteer for that!

Julie, believe me when I say this. You are fucking talented! I would be disappointed if you didn’t go to that show to take photos. I know that shit happens but you have to get back out there, it’s all about pushing through the hard things in life and saying you made it in the end. Also, I need to see photos of these shows you’ve done. Why the interest in this particular field if I may ask?

Traveling is nice, I would love to go to Hawaii someday, maybe even Cape Town. Anywhere with a good view would be nice.

A dragon? I am now kind of regretting my choice as it felt a bit more feminine… you know what? No! My choice is better! To become a freaking Unicorn would be fucking neat!

Goofy?! What!? I seriously thought you would’ve chosen Mickey but given your reason as to why you chose Goofy… I’ll let it slide. This time.

Ugh! I hate you.

I’ll have to go with Belle. Hands down.

Toodles.

P.S.

I highly doubt that, but then I don’t doubt it… Also, given the fact that Thanksgiving is coming up this week, I will expect your letter to arrive late. This time, I promise, I won’t panic if it does. Have a Happy Thanksgiving, Julie.

P.P.S

I tend to have more of a form of Social Anxiety, so my triggers are kind of obvious that it’s big crowds, being out of my comfort zone.

It sounds like you know how to control your anxiety attacks, which is good. And yes, I totally understand you. Sometimes we just forget and those things that help us during attacks are the last thing on your mind.

You’re welcome, Juju, and yeah that’s one way to look at it but hey, once you hit rock bottom there’s only one way to go and that’s up.

Would it help if you had someone there with you when you are ready? Maybe someone you trust?

Julie knew that Chris was right about her photography. She had to get back out there. She told herself that she’d send a reply tomorrow, given the fact that her letter would possibly stay in the post office until Saturday, she would take time to reply this time.

Julie drove to the familiar bar, walking in she smiled over to the regulars. “Hey,” she said as she reached the counter.

The man behind the counter quickly whipped around, “hey!” he said with excitement, “what brings you here?”

“Oh, you know, just visiting,” she said as she looked around the familiar bar.

“Mhm, sure,” he said with an eye roll, “Can I get you anything?” 

“Uhhh, coke,” Julie said with a smile. 

“you come into a bar and ask for a coke?” 

Julie nods as she watches him grab a coke bottle and handing it to her, “thank you, Blake.” 

He sighed, “anything for my best ex-employee.” 

Julie sighed, “Actually, Blake, I was wondering… Does your nephew still need a photographer for that gig?”

“I knew there was an actual reason for you being here,” he said softly with a smile, “yes, he does… why? You interested?”

“More than interested,” she said with a wink. That was it, Julie was going to get back onto her feet, she thought of it as an early New Years resolution.

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[monikafilefan]

#72 from the prompts pleaseandthankyou 😀

I finally got around to writing this and fought through a bout of writers block, but ta-da! I hope you like it @allyinthekeyofx I took some liberties with Scully’s chip regarding her being sick. 

I’m combining an angst/romance prompt with an earlier request for a pre revival sickfic. Since I’ve ready written a Mulder S-6 sickfic, I wrote a sick Scully this time. Also, this is sort of a follow up story to the angsty chapter 1 of this: 

Tagging @today-in-fic @kyouryokusenshi @fragilevixenfic @scully-eats-sushi @peacenik0

---

#72 “You need sleep.”

Feb. 2016: Several months before MS1

Mulder ran a hand through his hair for at least the tenth time with his phone glued to his ear as he paced the cold creaky floor throughout the unremarkable house. The fact that he had to resort to calling her office at the hospital at all this morning would be worrisome enough. But because he hadn’t heard from her at her usual once a week phone call time yesterday, he was concerned to say the least.

Truth be told, they had only started talking on a regularly scheduled basis for about three months now and had only seen one another in person sporadically since she’d left. But on one Friday night, Scully called him to discuss whether he was okay with celebrating Thanksgiving with her. Eventually, she had confessed that every night before bed she would stare at his picture in her room and tell him what was on her mind. Her therapist had advised her to bridge the gap and tell him herself. And that’s what she has done ever since, until last night at least.

His bare feet slapped along the hardwood towards the entryway door and he leaned his forehead against it, frustrated with a familiar nervous churning roaming his gut as the ringing of her phone continued to go unanswered.

Ever since his ‘whole life’ walked out of their front door he was currently grinding his head into, he has worked his ass off both physically and emotionally to find himself again. And he knows that, with her own therapy, she has too. His depression and obsessions with the future and secretly searching for clues about William consistently for the last four years had secluded him even further away from Scully. And he hated it—hated everything about it, including himself. Yet, he just couldn’t stop himself from doing what she begged him not to do—go searching through the darkness without his light.

After a while, it finally dawned on him to really look at her—his light—and what he saw scared the hell out of him. He painfully watched Scully’s own guilt and depression that she had tried desperately to keep hidden away, coil tighter inside, dimming that light, and choking her like a noose. All of it brewed into a perfect storm, creating the catalyst of that one dark night in 2014.

“Come on, Scully, answer the phone.” He ended the call to her house phone without leaving a message and quickly switched back over to her cell number. Mulder wandered over to the mantle where most of their shared items still sat, mocking him. Memories of their past that they had created together were collecting dust.

The ringing shrilled through the earpiece again as he stared at a recent photo of them taken at Margarets house sharing a kiss on New Years Eve just over a month ago. Scully hadn’t wanted him ringing in the new year alone and Margaret’s quick photography rewarded him with a rare memento of their halted intimacy that night.

They were better in 2016. Happier together than apart. Mulder knew she wasn’t ready to come back home yet and to be honest, he wasn’t either. Even so, his resolution was to make damn sure he was ready when she was. And that’s exactly why he was currently on the verge of panic as he leaves her yet another voicemail just minutes after receiving a callback from her office stating that ‘Dr. Scully had called in sick two days ago’.

“It’s me again, Scully. Please call me back. I’m worried about you and in fact, if you don’t call back in the next five minutes, I’m coming over to check on you. You know if you’re sick, I help you—no matter what, Scully,” he rushingly said and huffed as he clicked the end button, stuffing his cell in the pocket of his sweats.

Dammit, that’s just like her too. Her calling into work and telling them she’s too sick to work and no one else. Which in the language of Scully means that she literally cannot function enough to crawl out of bed and get dressed. Scully rarely ever got sick, especially after her cancer remission. Which Mulder knew the chip most likely protected her from any serious virus infecting her immune system. But when Dana Scully did feel ‘under the weather,’ as she called it, she was usually bedridden for days and completely reliant on him for help. Whether she admitted it or not.  

She must really be ill this time and that scared the shit out of him. Not being able to see her, to touch her, to dote on her when she normally would scoff at his babying, had his anxiety riddled heart nearly pounding out of his chest.

Yes, Scully was an excellent doctor and always has been. Yet, she was also his wife, his other half, his partner in every respect of the word, and had felt that way about their dynamic from the beginning.

He worried back then and worries still. It’s silly he knows, but he worries that if he doesn’t lay eyes on her for several weeks at a time then he might miss some subtle change in her appearance. Yet, he worries when he finally sees her face to face that he just might cry and beg her to come back. He worries more that she might even cry right along with him. But what he worries about the most while laying in bed alone at night, is that she might not care enough anymore to cry at all. He figured that this was some kind of cruel karma for all the worry he’d laid on her shoulders throughout the years.

But the fact remained, he relished every moment spent with her and worrying about her through every illness. Even when she hadn’t known about half of it.

Mulder had hoped to be the one she leaned on since the beginning if she’d ever gotten sick and shockingly, she had done just that. He would wait on her hand and foot, pretend to leave her apartment when she told him to go home and sleep, but would instead lay on her couch while she stubbornly thrashed alone in her bed just feet away from him. He’d bring her water and a cool rag to wipe down her sweaty skin when her cancer invaded her nights with fevers, or curl up next to her when the chills wracked her body so hard she couldn’t sleep. Mulder would even happily sacrifice what little sleep he did end up capturing to hold her hand while he sat scrunched up on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed just listening to her raspy breaths filling the silence between them.  

On nights like those, Mulder would quietly leave just before the sun came up, but not before placing a kiss upon her cheek that she would pretend to sleep through. It was just one of their many silent agreements that lay between them throughout the years. Much of their struggles were silent, yes, but it was their silent adoration for one another that screamed the loudest.

Breaking that silence was deafening—an altogether beautiful thing, and that’s exactly what Mulder intended to do all over again.

He ran up the stairs, threw on his shirt, and grabbed a couple personal things of Scully’s that she had left behind before he hurried out the door. The realization that he was also one of those things that she had left behind, felt like a slap in the face.

Nearly slipping on the unsalted porch, it suddenly registered to him that the last time Scully stepped foot on the wooden beams beneath him, it was sprinkled with freshly fallen leaves and not snow.

Pushing aside a sudden new wave of woe, he tossed her things in the seat as the Mustang roared to life. It echoed into the cold February air as he put the pedal to the metal and raced towards the familiar D.C. city limits.  

---

“Scully?” Mulder closed the front door of the smart house he hated and punched in her security code. He’d only been here a handful of times since she moved in eighteen months ago, and it looked exactly the same way every single time. Sterile and uncomfortable. “Scully, it’s me. Where are you?” He searched the tidy living room, tossing her things and his coat on the couch, and walked through the kitchen, taking in the scene of how clean and orderly everything seemed without him.

His head spun at the thought of her choosing this life over the one they built together.

The sound of coughing had him swiftly moving down the hall and into her bedroom. And sight before him, sucked him back almost twenty years in the past. The room was a mess. Her bed was piled high with multiple comforters, clothes riddled the floor by the nightstand which was covered with pill bottles and Nyquil. He took a step and noticed a giant wad of used kleenex in the overflowing trash can the floor next to her bedside. Mulder gasped when he saw that some were clearly stained in various shades of blood.  

No! It can’t be!

“Scully…” His heart was beating so loud, it was surely enough to wake her.

Her wild haired head popped up beneath the mound of blankets with a look of shock and relief in her expression. “Mulder?” she yelled out, swiping a tissue across her nose. “Ugh! There you are!”

Swooping down upon her without thinking twice about it, he grabbed the hand she had hovering over her nose and wrapped her up in a tight embrace, smashing her face against his chest. “Jesus, Scully you scared the shit out of me.” Pulling back when he heard her grunt, he held up her hand that gripped the used tissue and examined it. “No blood.”

“Mulder!” her droopy lids, stark white face, and red tipped nose had nothing on the overly loud barking sound of her voice. “I’m so glad you came!”

“What? Scully you never called me. And why are you yelling?” Looking at her sleepy confused face, he realized that she was probably drugged up on sleep aids and decongestants.

“Oh, I can’t hear very well!” He watched her eyes narrow as she tried focusing on reading his lips. “I’m talking too loud?”

He had to laugh even though he was still concerned over seeing her blood soaked into anything again. “Yes, but that okay,” he spoke louder than before. She tossed the mucous laden tissue over his shoulder and flung the blankets off her legs. “That would explain you not answering your phone I suppose.”

“My phone?” she questioned him quieter now with a crinkle in her brow.

“I called you over and over. I was worried.”

Reading his lips, she nodded and said, “sorry I haven’t gotten out of bed much yesterday or today. I’ve got an upper respiratory infection and a double ear infection and can barely hear with all this congestion. I’ve resorted to knocking myself out every chance I get,” she grinned.

Oh loopy Scully was always fun, but that didn’t explain the crimson streaks on the kleenex.

“What’s with the blood?” Her mouth opened and before she could utter a word, he jumped in and told her not to lie to him with the tone of his voice he hoped she could hear well enough. “Scully…”

“It’s not what you think, Mulder. I’m fine.” Mulder winced and she quickly amended her usual brush off line. “It’s not what you think. There are broken blood vessels in my nose and my lips were cracked and they bled on and off this morning.” She must have seen the relief wash over him as his eyes fluttered shut because she brought his hand up to her face and held it to her cheek. “I’m okay, Mulder. And… I’m really happy to see you.”

Mulder wasn’t shocked at her choice of words. She had told him several times when he saw him that she was happy to see him but the way she said them with such reverence, took him by surprise.

She removed his hand from her face and rolled out of bed onto wobbly legs. He grabbed onto her arm with one hand and clutched her slender hip with the other as she stumbled over a water bottle, making sure she didn’t face plant on the uncharacteristically messy floor.

She relaxed and sighed under his touch. “Thanks. My equilibrium is off a bit,” she chuckled with the volume of her voice wavering.

Mulder sat there staring at her as she closed the bathroom door, stunned at how easily she accepted his presence. Then again, she’d been confused and thought she had called him at some point in the last two days to come over. Glancing over at the medications lined up like soldiers awaiting orders, he understood why. All of these had the side effect labeled, ‘May cause drowsiness and/or confusion. Do not operate heavy machinery’.

Fucking great!

Now he had no idea if she really meant anything she has said so far to him tonight, let alone the possibility that she might not remember him being here at all tomorrow.

Swinging the door open, Scully gave him her now very rare and honest smile that’s done things to him since day one. She looked so small standing there in her bare feet and underwear wearing an oversized t-shirt that looked suspiciously like one of his missing workout shirts. She had no makeup on which highlighted the freckles scattered disobediently on her face. Without a second thought, he stood up, bent his head forward, and planted a kiss on her nose.

She gasped and cleared her throat. “Sorry,” he mumbled, not really wanting to apologize for kissing his wife as he locked his eyes onto hers. “I should probably take off then since I know you’re alright,” he pointed to the bedroom door over his shoulder with furrowed brows. “You need sleep.”

“What?” Scully looked up at him, her big blue eyes shining under the dim lighting. “You’re leaving? A-choo!” Scully sneezed then rubbed her ears, yawning. “Oh, that helped my ears. I can hear a little better now.”

Laughing, he repeated “you need sleep,” louder this time and rubbed her shoulder for his own comfort just as much as hers.

Scully cocked a brow and still too loudly blurted out, “not as much as I need you.”

Mulder’s smile faded slightly and felt his knees bob as the weight of her words smacked into him. “You seem high as a kite with all of those meds your on. Not to mention you probably have no idea what day it is and will very likely think this whole conversation was all a dream in the morning,” he reminded her, offering her an opportunity to take back her words.  

“Mulder?”

“Yes?” She stepped closer and his hand moved from rubbing her shoulder to rub the expanse of her back.

“I love you.”

“Oh brother,” he threw back, replaying their conversation from the past while clearly understanding now just how foggy her head is at the moment. Yet, no matter the context in which she spoke those three words to him, he always took them to heart.

He swallowed hard and looked away from her stare. It was safer this way. He could listen to her words or look into her eyes, but not both at once. He might not survive the honesty of her regret if she rescinded them.

“I miss you, Mulder,” she mumbled, and he could see her eyes glistening with unshed tears from his peripheral. “I do. So much. It's just… Just not time for me to come home yet.”

He risked looking into her bright blue eyes again, his stomach churned, and his throat tightened so much that he thought he’d choke right there. “Oh I know, Scully. Me too—and you’re right.”

Even in her increasing lethargic state, she managed to toss him a perfectly arched brow and a mock look of surprise.

“Yes,” he said louder, ensuring his words wouldn’t be blamed on pain meds, muffled congestion, and swollen eardrums. “You’re right, Scully. It’s not the right time. For either of us; not yet.”

He watched a lone tear leak out of the corner of her red rimmed eyelid and slide down the swell of her pale skin that she didn’t even attempt to hide. He fought the urge to swipe it clean—to wash away evidence of her sorrow. It was exactly that; evidence that her internal pain equaled his own.

“Soon,” she nodded and limply held out her hand to him. He took it gratefully and she laced her fingers within his. “Stay with me tonight.”

“Are you sure?""I want you here and you sleeping all the way out on the couch isn't going to help right now. It's running away and that's what I do, not you."Mulder balked at the sharp self-deprecating words she’d just used. That was the sort of thing he has hear himself say many a time. Not Scully. If she felt that way, she had never expressed that to him before. The concoction of medication had loosened her lips—breaking through the silence.

Forcing himself to brush off her words, he pushed back the comforter and sheet and as she slid in, gingerly laying her ear atop the propped up pillows.

“Oh, I brought over a couple things from the house for you. It’s probably unnecessary now that I’m thinking about it, but I know how much you love wool socks and your eucalyptus body cream.”

Her heavy eyes lit up and she smiled. “You brought me my blue wooly socks, Mulder?” To him, she sounded too excited over a pair of socks she had likely replaced long ago. But looking at her face, he saw that she really was. “You know me so well.”

“That I cannot deny. I’ll get them for you.” He went to the couch and grabbed her slippers and lotion, feeling pretty excited himself at the thought of being useful to her once again.

Mulder sat the container of green body cream onto the only open spot next to the near empty Nyquil bottle and knelt at the edge of her bed. Scully outstretched her bare legs into his waiting hands so he could slide her navy blue wool socks onto each small foot. If it were close to two years ago and she had done this to him, Mulder would have massaged the minty smelling lotion into her feet from heel to toe and sensually worked his way up her soft slender body until she begged for more. Right now, he would just have to be grateful she was letting him comfort her at all.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Scully, you know I love your little feet,” he smirked and reluctantly removed his hands from her ankles. She didn’t move to cover herself back up so he stood to adjust the balled up comforter around her, but her hand wrapping around his bicep halted his progress.

“Lay here next to me.” It wasn’t a question and Mulder opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off. “Come on, Mulder. No reverting back to sitting on the floor uncomfortable while you stay awake and hold my hand all night long. Please just… hold me tonight?”

Blinking away rapidly rising tears, he nodded and responded the only way he could. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, whispering along her skin, “I can do that.”

Mulder carefully climbed over her and pulled the blankets up, tucking it around them. Her bed seemed huge, the space between them cavernous. It felt good to be this close to her like this again, too damn good and his arousal blooming beneath his sweatpants agreed immensely.

He slowly wrapped his arm around her waist and she laced her fingers between his as a silent thank you. The back of her chest rose and fell in tandem along the front of his own and he knew if he closed his eyes, he could picture every single night spent embracing is wife in their shared bed. But he didn’t close his eyes, didn't dare. Because he knew that the next time he and Scully lay in bed, It wouldn’t be in their shared one together.  

“Sleep, Scully. I’m here.” Mulder pressed his lips to her ear and rested his head along the crown of hers.

Breathing deeply now, he felt her slight nod and her backside snuggled in closer, no doubt noticing his ill-timed erection.

“Mulder...”

“Yeah.”

Scully tucked their entwined hands under her chin and he felt the heat from her lips warming his fingers. Waiting with bated breath for her next words, Mulder moved down and nuzzled his nose through her mussed hair, inhaling her scent within the crook of her neck. It was something so familiar and comforting to them both, showing her affection like this as they laid alongside one another. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.  

“I meant what I said,” she murmured.

“Said about what?”

“That I’m still in love with you,” she turned her head towards her shoulder when his breath hitched. “I may be medicated and half asleep, but I can never forget that. I never want you to either.”

He kissed her neck, her cheek, her ear, and told her, “and you forget, Scully, that I could never forget anything about you.” He heard her sigh and felt her whole body melt into the mattress. “You need sleep,” he said again. Mulder moved his mouth away from her face before he gave into the powerful urge to kiss her once more. This time on the lips, crossing over their convoluted line of separation.

When her breathing slowly evened out minutes later and sleep reclaimed her, Mulder carefully untangled their fingers while he gently moved out of her embrace. He stood at the end of her bed, taking in every detail of her peaceful face before he needed to force himself to leave.

He missed seeing her smile, the caress of her touch, the comfort of her warm body next to his lulling him to sleep every night. He missed his Scully. And tonight, Mulder was lucky enough to witness the fact that his Scully had missed her Mulder just as much.

---

[trade-baby-blues]

Pay it Forward

Pairing: Leonard McCoy x Reader

Word Count: 1928

Warning: so much secondhand embarrassment, some swearing

A/N: Requested by @kickingitwithkirk based on the prompt “Character A vows to do something nice for a stranger during the Christmas time. Character B is that stranger.” Things go slightly awry and comedy ensues. Hope you enjoy!!

“I don’t know what it is,” you sighed, stirring your hot cocoa. “I’m just not in the holiday spirit this year.” Normally, Christmas was your holiday. You’d bust out the decorations and tacky sweaters the day after Thanksgiving, decking your apartment floor to ceiling with lights, garlands, and porcelain snowmen. Then, you’d spend most of December baking cookies and wrapping all the presents you’d bought throughout the year. This time around, though, you’d already finished all your holiday activities with a week to go until Christmas and you still weren’t feeling festive.

“Is there anything different this year,” your friend Nyota asked over the phone. “You said your boss was giving you trouble.”

You took a sip of cocoa, hoping it would warm whatever was chilling your spirit. “Yeah, but Jim gives everyone trouble. I don’t know. I do the same thing every year. Maybe I need to spice it up somehow.”

“Aren’t you in a cafe? Why not buy a stranger a coffee or something?”

You snorted. “What like in those Hallmark movies you make me watch?”

Nyota groaned. “You promised to stop bringing those up.”

“I said I’d try to stop. I can’t help how funny it is that badass Nyota Uhura has a soft spot for Hallmark Christmas Classics.”

“You’re the worst. Find a different friend to help you out. Oh wait, you don’t have any other friends.”

“Guess you’re stuck with me,” you laughed.

“Ugh don’t remind me.” You could almost hear Nyota’s eyes rolling. “Listen, I’ve gotta go. Tell me how your random act of kindness goes.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you said before hanging up. As you looked around the cafe for your unsuspecting recipient, your eyes fell on a man in a booth by himself. His brown hair was unkempt and his eyes fluttered shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The muscles in his arm tightened, and you forgot briefly about your mission to do kindness, thinking of other, less nice things you’d like to do him.

You were forced back to reality as the man hung up the phone and dropped it on the table, the clatter echoing across the cafe and drawing stares. He cradled his head in his hands, not noticing you approach until you stood in front of his table and coughed. He looked up at you with eyes sweeter than the cocoa you just drank and you were convinced you’d melt if you looked at them too long.

“Hi,” you chirped. “You seemed upset, so I was wondering if I could buy you another drink. I know a hot drink always puts me in a good mood so I- I’m rambling, I’m sorry. I just I get nervous around hot men - STRANGE men,” you corrected, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Not that you’re strange. You’re just a stranger and I-I’m gonna stop talking now.”

To your delight, the man’s face began to soften. He even let out a quiet chuckle before leaning back in his seat. “Well, my mama didn’t raise me to say no to free drinks, so long as you promise to stay and sit with me.”

“Sure! What, uh...what would you like?” You toyed with the bottom of your sleeve, feeling like a teenager asking a boy to a dance. All you needed was a bad perm and some thick eyeliner and it would be high school all over again.

“Maple pecan latte,” he said.

“Ooh looks like I got a Southern boy on my hands,” you smiled.

“Guilty as charged.”

“All right. One maple pecan latte coming up for Mr. Southern Boy.”

The man laughed again and it was like velvet. “Name’s Leonard.”

“Hm, Leonard.” You couldn’t deny you liked the way his name felt rolling off your tongue. “I think I’ll stick with Mr. Southern Boy.” You heard Leonard laugh again as you turned towards the counter. It was the kind of sound you could get used to if you weren’t careful.

The drinks were done in no time, and you were on your way back to Leonard. He was bent over his phone, forehead creased and lips pressed together in a tight frown. You wanted to run your hands across the planes of his face and smooth everything out, but for now you’d have to settle with sharing a drink.

“One peppermint hot chocolate for me, and one maple pecan latte for Mr. South-” The rest of your sentence was lost in a wordless gasp as your foot caught the leg of a chair. Both drinks slipped from your hands as you tried to catch yourself on the edge of the table. The smell of peppermint and pecans mixed as the cups collided, waves of coffee spilling over the table like a tsunami with Leonard as the unfortunate victim.

He shot out of his chair, trying to wipe the hot drinks off his clothes before it burned his skin. You watched in abject horror until a barista came over with a towel to help clean up the mess.

“I’m so sorry. I’m such a klutz I swear I didn’t mean to make a mess I was only trying to do something nice I-”

“Sugar, sugar,” Leonard laughed, putting his hands on your shoulders. “It’s just coffee. Nothing a little Tide won’t get out.”

You groaned, trying to pull your scarf over your face to hide the growing blush. “At least let me help you clean up. My apartment is right down the street.”

Leonard raised an eyebrow. “Trying to take me home already?”

“Well, I tried to buy you a drink first,” you mumbled. Leonard grinned as the two of you walked side by side towards the door. He held it open for you, sliding his hand onto the small of your back when you passed him.

By the time you made it to your apartment, Leonard’s hand arm had snaked around your waist. All the tension from the cafe was gone. It was incredible how calm Leonard made you feel. You could almost hear Nyota’s disapproving voice asking how you could bring a complete stranger into your apartment, but that was the thing. Somehow, he didn’t feel like a stranger.

“Here we are,” you said cheerfully. You stepped out of Leonard’s warm arms and shrugging your jacket off.

“Bless your heart. You weren’t kidding when you said you go all out for Christmas.” Leonard shook his head in wonder as he followed you through your apartment to the bedroom. He fought back a laugh when he saw the giant teddy bear taking up most of your bed. “This the boyfriend,” he quipped.

You followed his line of sight to the bear and felt your cheeks heat up again. “It was a gift from my mom. She was worried I would be lonely when I moved out on my own.” Realizing that didn’t make you sound any less pathetic, you shoved a pair of sweatpants and a shirt at Leonard, unable to meet his eyes as you pushed him to the bathroom. Even through the closed door, you could hear him snickering.

As soon as the water started running, you grabbed your phone to call Nyota. Every ring felt like agony. You didn’t know how much time you had before Leonard was finished. Was he an in and out kind of guy? Or did he spend an hour replaying conversations in his head while the water dripped down those insanely sculpted arms and his hands ran over his-

“Hellooooo,” Nyota called out. “Did you seriously butt dial me? You know they have locks on phones now, right?”

“Shit, no, sorry. I’m...God I don’t know what I am.” You leaned against the counter, focusing on keeping your breathing level instead of thinking about Leonard naked in your shower.

“You sound flustered. Is everything okay?” “No everything is not okay,” you hissed. “I took your advice and bought someone a drink but then I spilled it all over him and now he’s taking a shower in my apartment and I don’t know what to do!!” You held the phone away from your face as Nyota erupted into laughter. “It’s not funny. Help me!”

“Is he cute?”

“Yes.”

“So you’ve got a cute guy in your shower and you’re telling me it’s a problem?”

“Yes, because I already embarrassed myself at the cafe and then he saw Mr. Hugglesworth and-”

Nyota cut you off with another sharp laugh. “Mr. Hugglesworth? Is that the bear your mom bought you for Christmas?”

“Hey, our agreement was I don’t judge you for liking Hallmark movies and you don’t judge me for having a giant stuffed bear named Mr. Hugglesworth.” Nyota was clearly fighting with herself to keep from laughing, breaking into a fit of fake coughs instead. “Please Nyota. I am so out of my depth here.”

“Okay, okay but first you have to tell me: How attractive is he exactly?”

“I don’t even have words. If he asked me to bend over the kitchen counter right now, I would and I haven’t even washed them recently.”

“You sure know how to flatter a guy.”

The blood ran from your face as you spun around, hiding your phone behind your back. Leonard was leaning against the back of your couch, sweatpants slung low on his hips, shirt a size too small and clinging to every muscle across his chest and arms. You blinked frantically before averting your gaze, trying to look at anything but Leonard while your brain rewired all its circuits so you could talk again.

Leonard stepped towards you and placed a hand against your forehead. You could smell your soap on him and it made your knees feel weak. “You all right? You’re lookin’ a little pale, sweetheart.”

“Yeah,” you answered an octave too high, “Fine. I’m fine. Never better.” You forced a smile and Leonard dropped his hand. Silence fell between you like an anvil.

“So...where’s your washer?”

“My washer?”

“Your washing machine. For my clothes.”

You smacked a hand against your forehead. “Laundry right. Yes. That’s why we’re here. It’s right over here,” you said, making your way through the kitchen to a small laundry room. “If you’ll just bring me your clothes, I can throw them in and…” your voice trailed off as you looked at the empty shelf above the washer and dryer. You forgot to buy detergent.

Leonard returned a moment later, clothes in tow. “There a problem,” he asked as he watched you stare at the shelf. He looked too, half expecting it to come to life.

“Well,” you started, “In an interesting turn of events, it seems that I, um. Well, I may have forgotten to actually buy detergent, so I….can’t...wash your clothes.” You bit your bottom lip, bracing yourself for anger but Leonard laughed. In fact, he laughed so hard he had to hold himself up on the counter.

“Let’s - Let’s forget about the clothes,” he said between breaths. “I can take ‘em home and wash ‘em at my place. Then, maybe I can take you out to dinner when I return the ones I’m wearing.”

“Seriously? I’m kind of a mess in case you haven’t noticed.”

Leonard stepped towards you with a smile. “So am I,” he said, tucking strand of hair behind your ear. “Some of us are just better at hiding it.” He leaned down and your heart leapt to your throat. You had to hide your disappointment when he tipped his head, pressing his lips to your cheek instead. “Thanks for an eventful afternoon, sugar.”

Tags: 

@8bit-arc-reactor @jimtkirkisabitch @sjlovestory @kristaparadowski

@outside-the-government @martinawalker @thevalesofanduin @goingknowherewastaken @thefanficfaerie @brooke-taylor0323 @slither-in-a-half @cuddlememerrick @reading-in-moonlight​

[thelighthousemp3]

hi i love your dianetti fics so much omg!!! i just read them all and i’m still crying lmao. could i request some #domestic dianetti please? thank you!!

thank u so much!! read on ao3 or down below

Rosa Diaz turns over in her sleep, burying her face under the covers to avoid the stream of sunlight coming in through the curtains. She throws an arm over where Gina is supposed to be, but is met by emptiness.

Grudgingly, Rosa cracks open one eye to see that Gina’s side of the bed is deserted. Rosa groans and curls up under the covers again.

The alarm clock on her nightstand rings loudly. Rosa irritably grabs it and throws it across the room, effectively silencing it. “It’s Saturday,” she mumbles. “Who set the alarm clock―”

The door of the bedroom opens and Gina Linetti walks in wearing her pajamas. “You did, dummy. You forgot to turn it off last night.” She walks over to the bed and sits down on her side.

Rosa curses and buries her face in a pillow. “I wanna sleep,” she mumbles.

“It’s already ten though!” Gina protests.

Rosa lifts her head. “Wait,” she says, pointing to the broken alarm clock on the floor. She looks back at Gina. “I set my alarm at 7:30 for work. Why’d it ring at ten?” she asks suspiciously. Gina looks back at her innocently and shrugs. “You set it so I’d have to wake up!” Rosa accuses.

Gina shrugs. “Well, it worked, didn’t it? Honestly, Rosie, I don’t understand how you can sleep until like two in the afternoon. Even Jake can’t sleep for sixteen hours straight.”

“It’s a talent,” Rosa argues.

“Mhmm, a very valuable one, too. You should go on the X-Factor, Rosa. Maybe you’ll win,” Gina says with a hint of sarcasm.

“Shut up,” Rosa says, sitting up. She hugs Gina and breathes in deeply with her head on Gina’s shoulder. Rosa closes her eyes, feeling the world melt away―

“No sleeping,” Gina interrupts, pushing Rosa off of her. Rosa groans. “I made breakfast, Rosa. And you’re gonna eat it because for the past three weekends, you’ve been starting the day off with lunch,” Gina says.

“No,” Rosa says. “There was that one Sunday where I had to work so I grabbed a bagel. That was breakfast.”

“Whatever,” Gina says. She stands up and pulls Rosa off the the bed. “C'mon. You can take a nap later if you want to.”

Rosa narrows her eyes. “Really?” she says.

Gina laughs. “Nah. There’s too much to do today.”

“Like what?”

“Like spending time together?”

Rosa’s shoulders sag. As much as she loves sleep, she loves Gina even more. “Okay, fine,” Rosa says in defeat. “You win.”

“Oh, darling, I always win.”

Rosa follows Gina out to the kitchen. She sits down at the table as Gina brings her a plate of pancakes. Rosa reaches for the maple syrup before squinting down at the pancakes. “Uh, Gina. My pancakes are covered in glitter,” she says with uncertainty.

“Well, don’t be such a baby about it. It’s edible,” Gina says. She sits down next to Rosa and starts to dig into her own confetti-glitter pancake wreck. “And it brings out all of the potential that the pancakes have you know?”

Rosa shrugs, shaking a can of whipped cream. “Sure,” she says. “So, is the edible glitter a new thing? Or is there gonna be glitter in my dinner tonight?”

“Of course not,” Gina says. “There’s gonna be glitter in the brownies I’m making, though. It’s gonna be fun.”

Rosa leans back in her chair and kicks her feet up on the table. She sets the plate of pancakes in her lap and watches as Gina scrolls through her cell phone.

Right on cue, Gina gasps. “Oh my god. You will not believe what’s happening in Hollywood―” She looks up to see Rosa’s plate empty on the table. “You’re done already? Damn, you eat faster than Jake on Thanksgiving.”

Rosa tosses her fork on the plate. “They were good pancakes,” she says defensively.

“Of course they were. I made them.” Gina says, all while typing furiously into her phone. Rosa carefully waits until she’s sure that Gina’s full attention is on whatever is happening in Hollywood before stealing a bite of her pancakes. Gina swats Rosa’s hand away.

“My pancakes,” she says protectively, her attention still divided towards her phone. Rosa slides her feet off of the table and scoots her chair closer to Gina. She slides an arm around Gina’s shoulders and feels Gina melting into her grip.

A few hours pass by incidentally quickly. Many things happen.

Rosa is in the shower when she hears a loud thud. She gets out as quickly as she can to see the kitchen table collapsed in the middle, with Gina in the center of the wreckage. A shattered wine glass and a confetti cannon lie on the floor next to the splintered table.

“Oh my god. Are you okay?” Rosa rushes to Gina’s side. Once Gina confirms that she’s all right, Rosa looks around. “Also, what the fuck happened here?” she asks in confusion.

“I was doing an Instagram shoot, duh,” Gina explains. “Besides, that table was an eyesore anyways.”

“The wineglass wasn’t,” Rosa frowns. “We’re already down to like three after Hitchcock and Scully broke all of the other ones last weekend.”

“Oh, yeah. Oops,” Gina says.

And that’s how they end up going to IKEA in their pajamas, with Rosa’s hair still dripping wet from the shower and Gina’s skin covered in glitter.

When they get home with the new furniture set, Gina’s ready to just leave the big box there for a few days. “We’ll call Terry. Or Amy. Amy loves following directions. I bet she’d love to assemble this shit,” Gina says.

Rosa shakes her head. “We’re doing this now, Gina. My parents are coming over for dinner tomorrow, remember?”

Nearly an hour later, Rosa’s sitting in the middle of what seems like a thousand pieces of wood. She squints at the manual and then back at what seems to be the beginning of a table. “Gina, I thought you were gonna help me,” Rosa says.

“I am helping,” Gina says, without looking up from her phone. She is lying on her stomach a few feet away from Rosa. Gina picks up a hammer and hands it over to Rosa. “Here. It’s looking great, babe.”

Rosa rolls her eyes and takes the hammer from Gina. She puts it back down on the floor before grabbing a screwdriver and continuing the assembling of the table.

Rosa’s almost done when she glances over at Gina. Gina’s watching her with a strange intensity in her eyes. “What?” Rosa asks.

“Hmm? Nothing. You look really good,” Gina mumbles, staring as Rosa knocks a nail into place with the hammer.

“Okay, then,” Rosa says, standing up. She surveys the furniture and then gives it a strong pat. “Looks good to me.”

“And it’s not the only thing that looks good in here,” Gina says.

“Mhmm,” Rosa says, eyeing Gina.

Gina stands up. “Ugh, Rosa. You are such a big flirt.” She wraps her arms around Rosa and pulls her into a kiss. “Also, you look really good while assembling IKEA furniture.” Gina surveys the room. “Maybe I should break stuff more often.”

Rosa can’t help but to laugh. “Yeah, thanks for helping,” she says.

Gina grins cockily. “You’re welcome. Wanna watch a Nancy Meyers movie? Maybe the one with Reese Witherspoon?”

A while later, they’re curled up on the couch, as Home Again (2017) plays on the TV in front of them. Rosa carefully  pays attention to the movie as Gina lays her head on Rosa’s shoulder. “Stop distracting me,” Rosa complains, as Gina starts playing with Rosa’s hair.

“No,” Gina says. She kisses Rosa’s cheek. “You’re more fun to watch than any Nancy Meyers movie.”

Rosa pauses the movie and turns to look at Gina. “Oh my god. How dare you. Nancy Meyers doesn’t just direct movies, she directs art. Poetic cinema, Gina! How could you not enjoy this!” She wildly gestures to the screen, where Reese Witherspoon is shown paused with a strange expression on her face. She is clearly paused mid-sentence.

Gina laughs when she sees the screen and pulls her phone out to take a picture. Rosa rolls her eyes and unpauses the movie.

“Okay, but I love you, you nerd,” Gina says. “I’d watch any Nancy Meyers movie for you.”

“Love you too,” Rosa says, tucking an arm around Gina.

[theycallmebeccawrites]

Chris & Ellie Series: Episode 14

With Tumblr holding my original writing blog @beccaheartschrisevans captive (aka flagged as explicit), I have made a secondary writing blog and may end up closing the other all together. In the meantime, I am reposting all of my stories on my new blog.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Ellie Spencer (OFC)

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: some minor language

Episode Summary: Basically how Chris and Ellie spend December 2013 while apart

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

This episode can also be read on AO3.

The Chris and Ellie series is primarily chronological.  It begins with a flash forward to 2016 and has a few other scenes in the future.  However, the majority of their story is told in chronological order starting in 2013 and going through 2017. Each episode starts with a date to help you place it within the story.

The Chris & Ellie Series Masterlist | Chris & Ellie Masterlist

Episode 13

Episode 14: The Most Wonderful Time of Year

December 2013

It was with a mix of great joy and pure exhaustion that Ellie walked into the house on the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Too tired to walk down to the guesthouse, she collapsed on the couch in the living room and closed her eyes. Thanks to her cousin who had offered to watch Daisy over the weekend due to the extra hours Ellie was working, there was no reason for her to even get off the couch.

Which was why she woke up six hours later with a crick in her neck from the awkward position she'd fallen asleep in. Still, it took a lot of strength to pull her exhausted body from the couch and make her way down to her room. Despite it being a little after two in the morning, she took a shower and let the hot water ease her sore muscles, before she got into bed and fell back to sleep.

After picking Daisy up, later that morning, Ellie spent most of the day cleaning and doing laundry, chores that had been completely overlooked in the days leading up to Black Friday weekend at the bookstore. It was as she was checking the pockets of her clothes that she came across the business card of the lady who she had met at her aunt's house on Thanksgiving. She hadn't looked closely at the card until now and was slightly disappointed when she saw that the lady worked for a publishing company and not a literary agency, which likely meant she had no use for someone who aspired to be an editor. Setting the business card aside, Ellie continued with her chores, quickly coming to terms with the fact that she would just have to wait for another opportunity.

During the craziness of her weekend, the texts between Ellie and Chris had been sporadic, but they often found time to shoot each other a message or two in the days that followed. It was a couple days in December, however, when Ellie's phone rang at just after eleven p.m. Curious as to who was calling her so late, Ellie grabbed the phone and stared at in shock when she saw that it was Chris. With a sick feeling in her gut, especially since it was after two in the morning on the east coast, she accepted the call and said, "Chris? What's wrong?"

"I'm kind of freaking out right now," Chris said and she could hear the anxiety and panic in his voice. "We start shooting the movie later today, well, tonight really, but that’s beside the point, because I don't know why anyone would trust me with their manuscript. I'm just an actor."

Ellie let out a mental sigh of relief that no one was sick or seriously injured before she stepped up to the task of helping him through his freak out. "You're more than just an actor," she told him. "Yes. You've acted all your life, but you've been studying your craft and learning from those around you."

"But directing?" he sighed his voice thick with tension. She hadn't seen him in this situation before, but knowing him, she imagined him wringing his hands and pacing the floor of his hotel room, likely to the annoyance of his neighbors. "What the hell was I thinking?"

"That you wanted to challenge yourself," Ellie said firmly, repeating the words he'd said to her months ago when he'd told her he was looking for a script to direct. "You have a great team around you, Chris, they trust you and they want to take this journey with you."

"Insane, every last one of them," Chris with a scoff that gave way to a forced laugh. "Even more insane than I am."

"You're not insane, you're just nervous," Ellie said as she pushed herself up into a sitting position on her bed, jostling Daisy slightly, who glared at her before rolling over and falling back to sleep. "You just need to distract yourself so you can get some sleep."

"You're right," Chris said and she heard him take a deep breath. "Ok, distracting myself." He took another long, slow breath. "Distracting myself... Oh! Did you send that lady your resume?"

Caught off guard at the change of subject so quickly, Ellie stammered, "No… not really."

"What does that mean?" Chris inquired. "You either did or you didn't."

"I didn't," Ellie confessed, biting down on her lower lip.

"Why not? That's the door you've been waiting for," he said, practically lecturing her. She was happy to hear a more positive tone to his voice, but not so happy that it was at her expense.

"It isn't though," Ellie said before defending herself, "she works for a publishing company and editors work with authors and literary agents, not the publishing company."

"But if she works with authors and literary agents then she has the contacts to forward your resume to," Chris countered. "Therefore, she has the contacts you need."

"You're trying to confuse me with logical shit and it's too late for that nonsense," Ellie muttered, rubbing her forehead. "Can't we go back to talking about your anxiety over directing?" Ellie pleaded before letting out a deep shy as the pressure of the situation began to wear on her. She'd come to LA to be an editor only to have her dreams of that career go up in flames thanks to her sexist pig of a boss.

"No," Chris said with a chuckle. "This is a great topic to distract myself with. That is what you suggested after all."

"Ugh, remind me to never tell you to distract yourself again," Ellie grumbled, slumping back against the headboard.

"At least not when we're across the country from each other," Chris said, smoothly. Despite their time apart, he was even more sure that Ellie was the girl he wanted to be dating. After all, she was the first person he'd needed to talk to when he had started freaking out an hour earlier. He understood why she was hesitant, however, and he didn't want to push her into anything she wasn't ready for, but there were some innuendos even he couldn't resist even on his best behavior.

"Or ones that require us to talk," Ellie responded as her mind flickered back to their kisses in October. What she wouldn't give to be with Chris right now, kissing his worries away. She cleared her throat, pulling them both back to the topic at hand. "Ok, Evans, give me your sales pitch."

"My sales pitch? What? … Oh, right... We were talking about you submitting your resume." Chris let out a genuine laugh that made Ellie smile. "I don't really have a sales pitch, I just think you'll live to regret it if you don't send her your resume, El," he admitted. "Like you said yourself, she isn't the person you're trying to get to hire you, but she’s an avenue to that person."

"If she even reads it," Ellie said in a negative Nancy tone.

"Then make her read it," Chris said with an overzealous amount of enthusiasm. "Send her flowers or chocolates or -"

"Something stolen from Chris Evans' house?" Ellie suggested, jokingly.

"Ha," he replied before sobering. "I've seen your resume, Ellie, and you've accomplished a lot. If this lady is smart, she'll take one look at your resume and know she has to send it on."

"But what if she doesn't?" Ellie said quietly, voicing her biggest fear. "What if the only reason she gave me her business card was because my aunt was nagging her to during dessert?"

"What if someone had helped her to her first job in the publishing world and she wants to help you? Chris countered, his tone part fierce and part compassionate. "I know I sure as hell didn't make it where I am now without help from people in the industry who took a chance on me."

He waited a moment, likely for dramatic effect, she thought, before he continued, "You're damn good at what you do, Ellie, and don't you ever forget that. We both know that selling used books and managing my house are not what you want to do for the rest of your life. Editing is where your passion is. I've never seen someone actually light up over a writing reference book like you did when you bought that book that someone had traded in."

"It wasn't just a book, it was a first edition of -" she started but stopped when she heard him call her a nerd. "Hey!"

"Does it make it better if I say you're an adorable nerd? Hot even." Chris asked, thankful that he had distracted her from what he knew would be another hour-long conversation about the importance of that book. "Because you totally are."

"You aren't so bad yourself, though I don't think anyone would confuse you for a nerd, you've got too many muscles," she replied her tone turning a bit wistful at the end. "Lots of bumpy muscles." A part of her wanted to tell him right then and there that she wanted to try to be a couple with him, but that would put them exactly where they were now, nearly 3,000 miles apart.

"Nerds come in all shapes and sizes," he reminded her, biting his tongue to keep from telling her he'd show her his bumpy muscles again if she showed him her bumps. He cleared his throat and quickly tried to recall what they had been discussing before their detour. "Right. You're resume. You're going to send it to her, right?"

After taking a moment of her own to recall the conversation, Ellie replied, "Yes, I'll send it in the morning, if it will make you happy."

"No, don't do it to make me happy," Chris told her, shaking his head despite the fact that she couldn't see him. "Do it because you want to, because it will help you achieve your dreams. Because this is the job you want so bad you can taste it, because it's all you think about."

"Ok, I'll do it for me," Ellie replied, feeling somewhat inspired by his passion. "You know, if this acting and directing thing doesn't work out, you'd make a great inspirational speaker."

"Ha ha ha. No." Chris shuddered at the idea. "Gimme a script and tell me to play a superhero. I've got that. Tell me to stand in front of a bunch of people I don't know and tell me to just speak, you'd better have something for me to fall onto when I pass out."

"I'm sure it wouldn't be that bad," Ellie told him. "But I don't think you need to worry about a second job, or is it a third job, now that you're an actor and director?"

"It's too late to think that hard," he replied with a laugh.

Glancing at the clock, Ellie's eyebrows shot up when she realized they'd been on the phone for over an hour. "Chris! You need to get some sleep!! You're going to be pissed when your lead actor shows up with dark circles under his eyes!"

"Wouldn't surprise me, that guy is an asshole," Chris joked and then yawned. "But you're probably right…"

"Of course I'm right and you need your beauty sleep, too, Mr. Director," she snickered. "Even though all you have to do tomorrow is sit still and look pretty."

"It's a hard job, someone has to do it," Chris said in a self-sacrificing tone. Returning to a more serious tone, he said, "Thanks for answering your phone, El. You're exactly who I needed to help me through my panic tonight."

"I'll always answer my phone for you, Chris," Ellie replied, her tone also serious. "And I'm glad I was able to help you out."

After saying goodbye to Chris, Ellie plugged her phone in and turned off the lights. She slid under the blankets of her bed and whispered to Daisy, "I know he is worried about directing, just like I'm worried about this job… but I have as much faith in him going for his dreams as he does for me."

The next morning, before going to the bookstore, Ellie did as she had promised and sent her resume and a carefully worded cover letter to the lady at the publishing company. She still wasn't convinced that it would open any doors for her, but she'd promised Chris she would do it. Before pressing send, she took a picture of her computer screen with her phone and sent it to Chris and got an 'you got this!' in reply.

Over the next couple of days, Chris kept Ellie up to date on how things were going with the movie (good) and how he was getting on with the cast and crew (great). Due to his late night shoots, however, all of their communication happened via text since by the time he got out of bed, she was already working. The texts were usually funny things that were happening around them as well as encouraging thoughts for each other.

She was at work the day she got the email from her aunt's friend with a formal introduction to a literary agent who wanted to meet Ellie for a possible job. Before even replying to the email, during her break, Ellie sent Chris a text with a screen shot of the email, to which he replied with a simple, "told you so."

Once again, Chris was the first person she reached out to, a few days later, when she got into her car after the meeting with the literary agent. Way too excited to type, she took a chance and called him, hoping he was awake and available to talk.

"How'd it go?" he asked, answering his phone without a proper greeting. He'd known that her interview was that morning and there was an edge to his voice that told her he might have been more nervous about it than she had been.

"It was amazing," Ellie gushed as she leaned back against the car seat. "We talked about my goals and what I wanted to achieve as an editor and the typical 'where do you see yourself in five years' questions. But Chris, he said he was impressed with my resume and that he was familiar with a couple of the self-published novels I've edited."

"That's awesome," Chris said and, knowing him as well as she did, Ellie could hear the smile in his voice. "See, I told you. You should listen to me more often," he added, cockily.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she replied, rolling her eyes playfully. "I haven't even told you the best part yet."

"Well get to it then, I don't have all day!" he teased, sarcastically. Before she had a chance to tell him, however, he started humming the Final Jeopardy tune and then continued when she did start.

"CHRIS!" she complained while laughing. "Shut up so I can tell you!"

"Sorry," he replied attempting a tone of sincerity while still laughing. "I'll behave, promise." She said nothing, not trusting him at all. "I'm done, I swear!"

"He gave me a manuscript for one of his authors!" she exclaimed and let out an excited squeal, nearly dropping the phone as she did a little happy dance in her car.

"That's fantastic!" Chris couldn't help but chuckle at her antics. "Do you have a due date?"

"That's the thing," she said, her excitement tapering off. "He wants me to read it, mark it up and do my thing to it, but before Christmas. That's less than two weeks away…"

"I've seen you read an entire book in one sitting," he stated. "Which let me tell you, is an impressive and mind blowing sight. I have no doubt you can get this done in that time. Assuming, of course, it's not like a War in Remembrance length…"

"It's not, thank God, it's a little more than two hundred pages and double spaced," Ellie replied. "I've edited longer ones, but I'm kind of nervous, ya know? This is a real book and author. I mean, when it's finished, I could walk into a bookstore and pick it up off the shelf."

"You've got this," Chris encouraged her. "And when it comes out, I'm going to buy that book and make you sign it."

"You don't even know what kind of book it is," Ellie said with a laugh. "It could be a self-help book on embracing your sexuality as a woman."

"Is it?" Chris asked, hesitantly.

"No, lucky for you, it's not." She laughed. "It's a mystery novel."

"Whew, that was going to be an awkward purchase otherwise." He let out a sigh of relief. "But you've got this, Ellie. Editing was what you were born to do."

"Thanks for pushing me, Chris, I wouldn't have had this opportunity if it weren't for you," she said, seriously.

"Exactly and when you become the most in demand editor, I expect residual checks," he stated with a chuckle. "I know there isn't much room to work in the guesthouse, so feel free to use my office to spread out, if you'd like."

"Are you sure?" she asked, hesitantly. "I don't want to invade your personal space."

"I'm pretty sure we crossed that line on Halloween," he said casually, but the memories of that night and the kisses they had shared brought extra heat to his words.

"Which line was that?" she asked, flirtatiously. "When I pushed you against the wall? Or when you flipped us around?"

"Somewhere in the middle," Chris replied, lowering his voice since he was on set. He'd moved aside when he'd answered the call, but he wanted to protect Ellie and their, hopefully, budding relationship.

Feeling emboldened by his words, her meeting that morning and her desire to clear the air with Chris about her feelings, Ellie opened her mouth to tell him she wanted to take that step with him, but before she could get the words out, someone on his end shouted at him.

"Shit," he cursed into the phone. He pulled the phone away and she could hear a hushed conversation happening on his end, followed by additional cussing from him before he finally returned. "I've got to go, El. We're having an issue with one of the cameras. We'll finish this conversation later, good luck with the editing."

After hanging up, Ellie held her phone to her chest and breathed in deeply. Chris's support and refusal to let her give up on her dream of being an editor had only made her more confident in her decision to take a chance with him. It was early--way too early, if she was being honest with herself--to even be thinking along the lines of a definite future with Chris, but she couldn't help it. There was something special about the bond she shared with Chris and she hoped it was the forever, even if it was just forever friends, kind of bond.

In the week that followed, Ellie spent her free time working on the manuscript, which left little time for more than a few texts with Chris here and there, which ended up working out fine because Chris, himself, was busy with the final days of filming. There were times that she wished they could talk on the phone as she was trying to go to sleep at night, but she knew that they both needed to focus on their projects before distracting themselves with relationship talks. As she powered through the corrections and comments for the author she was working with, Chris acted and directed, which resulted in them both finishing their projects on the Friday before Christmas.

They exchanged texts the next day as they sat in airports across the country from each other waiting for their flights: hers to Oregon to spend two weeks with her family and him to Florida where he would join his family for the last couple days of their annual Disney World trip before they all returned home to Sudbury for Christmas.

By the time Ellie got to her parents’ house, in a small town in the Willamette Valley, it was nearly dinner time and the house was already full. Her younger sister, Riley, was home from college and her older sister, Sydney, and her two kids had arrived a couple hours before Ellie had. The only people who hadn't arrived yet were Sydney's husband and her sister Izzy, who both had to work the first part of the week.

After a dinner of pizza, Ellie retired to the room she'd shared with Izzy growing up and was unpacking her clothes when she got a text from Chris asking if she'd made it home yet. Sitting down on the bed, she smiled as she replied yes and then sent him a selfie she had taken with her niece and nephew earlier. They texted a few more times, including a couple pictures of him with his nephews in Disney World.

Distracted by the texts, Ellie didn't realize Sydney and Riley were in the doorway to her room until Riley cleared her throat, startling Ellie completely and making her jump in fright.

"So, how's Chris?" Sydney asked with a knowing smile.

"Good," Ellie replied with a slight blush. It had been during their last sisters group chat that she had told her sisters what had happened between herself and Chris after the baseball game and about the decision she had made on Thanksgiving. Her sisters had been happy for her and had teased her about it a bit, but Ellie had noticed that Izzy hadn't been herself.

It hadn't been until a private conversation between the two of them over the phone that Ellie found out that Scott had already told Izzy about the kiss at the World Series and the lipstick incident at the Halloween party. Her sister, and best friend, had been understandably upset for not hearing about those two incidents from Ellie herself. Things were still a bit touchy between the two sisters, which is why Ellie had offered to drive to Portland to pick Izzy up on Christmas Eve.

When it came to talking with her sisters, it was easier to tell all three of them at once than each individually, especially if you weren't trying to tell them everything. Ellie, herself, had been part of the post one-on-one conversations where notes had been compared to figure out what the sister on the hot seat had left out. She had hoped to avoid that situation, but clearly Riley, Sydney and Izzy had different plans.

"Have you told him you want do have sex with him yet?" Riley asked in the casual way a college student talks about sex.

"Not yet," Ellie replied before going on to tell her sisters how her attempt the week before had failed and how she and Chris had both been super busy. "It's the whole distance makes the heart grow fonder thing, ya know." She shrugged.

"But what if the other heart doesn't know it's supposed to be getting fonder?" Sydney asked with a sense of caution in her voice.

"Seriously, even I know that," Riley stated. "He's a celebrity. All he has to do is give a girl a look and he can bone her."

"Riley!" Sydney scolded as she quickly got up and closed the open door. "Little ears have big mouths."

"Sorry," Riley replied, sheepishly.

"And if Chris is out there 'boning' other girls while waiting for you to decide what to do about your relationship then I'm sending Garrett and his brothers to get your stuff from Chris's house and we'll have Izzy get a restraining order -" Sydney went off on an overprotective big sister rant.

"He's not boning other girls," Ellie cut her sister off. "Chris isn't that kind of guy."

"I'm just saying," Riley said with a shrug.

"Well you can stop saying," Ellie replied with a pointed look.

"And you could start saying who that guy in all your Instagram photos is," Sydney said, changing the subject and putting the fire on Riley for a bit.

By the time Christmas Eve rolled around, Ellie welcomed the peace and quiet of the hour drive to the airport. She loved her family, but her parents’ house was smaller now than it had ever been, especially since her brother-in-law had arrived the night before and there had been another shuffling of sleeping arrangements.

It was while she was waiting for Izzy in one of the designated cell phone waiting areas that the literary agent called her. The conversation was short and to the point: he and his client had been impressed with the notes and corrections that she had made and they both wanted to work with her in the future. So much so that he told her he had put in a request with the agency he represented to sign her as an independent contractor contract at the beginning of the year.

As soon as she hung up with the agent, she called Chris without a second thought. She was crying happy tears when he answered the call and it took her a moment to compose herself before she was able to tell him the fantastic news. "The author said she has never had such helpful notes," she gushed to Chris, repeating what the agent had told her. "She wants me to be her main editor and she already has another novel in the works that she wants me to read as she writes it!"

"I knew you could do it!" Chris cheered then jested, "Next time text me first so you don't give me a fucking heart attack when I answer the phone and you're crying!"

"Sorry," Ellie said with a giggle. "I'm just so… over the fucking moon right now!"

"I knew you had it in you," Chris praised. "You're talented, you just needed to have a little faith in yourself."

"This never would have happened if you hadn't seen it and had the faith in me that I didn't have," Ellie pointed out.

"True, but you did the hard work and I am so proud of you," he agreed, encouragingly. "How are you going to celebrate?"

"I don't know, you're the first person I told," Ellie replied still in a state of awe over the whole thing. "In fact, I'm by myself waiting for Izzy at the airport. And -" She paused as she realized now was the time to tell Chris something equally as important as her job.

She took a deep breath and then laid her heart on the line. "Chris, I want to try us out," she said. Her voice had lost some of its bubbliness of a few seconds prior and a sense of anxiety had taken its place. "We both know the riskiness of it was what was holding me back, but I think it's worth it."

"Try us out as in date?" he asked, to make sure he was following the sudden change in conversation.

"Yes." She felt like her heart was going to explode as she waited for him to tell her that he still wanted to try. If he said he didn't, though, she wasn't sure what she would do.

"Are you sure?" he asked, cautiously. "You're really sure?"

"I've been sure for about a month," she admitted as she nervously picked at a dent in the steering wheel. "I was just waiting for the right moment to tell you." Recalling the conversation with her sisters the other day, she cleared her throat and added, "Chris, if me taking too long led to -"

"No, I haven't been with anyone else nor have I even wanted to be," Chris interrupted her. "That is where you were going with that, right?"

"Yes," she admitted, feeling relieved. "Really?"

"Really," he confirmed.

"So you still want to, too?" she asked, she felt silly for asking, but she wanted to know for sure.

"Yeah, I still do," Chris assured her before attempting to ease the tension with a joke. "And not just because I don't have to deal with LA traffic to pick you up for a date." To his relief, she laughed and he couldn't help but laugh, too. "So, out of curiosity, why did you wait so long to tell me?"

"It sounds silly now, but I didn't want to make it harder since we're on opposite sides of the continent," Ellie explained.

"I will resist the urge to make a joke about it being hard," Chris snickered with a hint of cockiness in his voice.

"You didn't resist too hard," Ellie pointed out with amusement. Now that they were on the same page, it was easier to be herself again without watching what she was saying.

"What can I say, it comes naturally to me," he played along. "Why fight what comes so easily."

"Hopefully not too easily, that would be disappointing," Ellie teased before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

"I guess you'll have to wait and see what happens in two weeks," Chris stated.

"Wait. In two weeks?" Ellie asked, quickly sobering. "You're coming home?"

"We got scheduled for reshoots beginning in early January," Chris confirmed, appreciating the excitement that was in her voice at his news.

As Ellie was letting that information digest, Izzy's text alert sounded in her ear. "Suddenly, I can't wait for Christmas to be over," she told Chris, finally. "And I love Christmas."

He chuckled and said, "I find myself feeling the same way, all of a sudden."

Knowing her sister was waiting, Ellie said goodbye to Chris with regret and then made her way to the arrivals area. It took her a good twenty minutes to get to where Izzy was waiting and they didn't have time to do anything other than get Izzy and her luggage into the car before they had to move on. Which meant that Ellie had to wait until she was out of the airport area before she could find a place to pull over. By the time she did, she was practically bursting from all the pent-up excitement. She then spent the next twenty minutes telling Izzy everything that had happened while she was waiting for her.

She was still on cloud nine when they got back to their parents’ house and found out that a package had been delivered for her while they'd been gone. The package, which had been overnighted from Florida, was from Chris and contained a Donald Duck stuffed animal with a note.

Ellie - Found this guy at Disney World and remembered you telling me how the Oregon Duck mascot was basically Donald Duck and, well, I knew you had to have him. Merry Christmas, Chris

Ellie felt tears come to her eyes as she held the stuffed animal to her chest. She felt Izzy behind her and felt her sister squeeze her shoulder before heading into the kitchen. Instead of following, Ellie took the present up to her room and placed it on her bed. She took a picture of it and sent it to Chris with a 'thank you' and 'I love it'.

When she finally made her way downstairs, she was surprised to find her family waiting for her with glasses of champagne and sparkling cider for the kids. Izzy handed her a glass and said, "I told them you had exciting news and that a toast was in order."

Ellie shared her news with her family and laughed as they showered her with exclamations and excitement. After they sipped their celebratory drinks, they shifted gears to their usual Christmas Eve festivities: watching Christmas movies and playing board games while munching on snacks. Followed by present opening since Sydney, Garrett and their two kids would be there in the morning for stockings before spending the rest of the day with Garrett's parents and siblings.

As she went to bed that night, with Donald Duck tucked in beside her, she couldn't help but think of the future. Per tradition, she and her family would head to the coast for the final week of the year, where they would ring in 2014 with four generations on the family compound of beach houses. Then she would return to LA and Chris would be there or get there shortly after her… and then… well, they'd be together and kicking off what had the potential of being an amazing year.

Episode 14.5

Want to find me off tumblr? I’m @beccatheycallme on twitter. I also post my stories on AO3.

My tag list is always open, just let me know if you’d like to be added!

[mockingjayne12]

Beyond - Chapter 10

(Lyatt / Timeless Fic)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

“Hey, can you hand me…” Wyatt sticks his hand out from underneath her car, and she pauses, mid-bite, her mouth full of the burrito she’d just bitten into.

“You’re eating aren’t you?” He calls out, and she quickly tries to chew, before giving up and just answering.

“No,” she says, but the word comes out garbled with her full mouth.

Sliding out from underneath the car, his shirt clings to every muscle, particularly his arms, accentuating their girth.

“I thought you were going to wait until I finished, you know, doing you a favor and changing your oil,” he claims, trying to use a stern voice, but cracks at the end into a laugh.

Quickly swallowing, she licks her lips, claiming it was for the crumbs lingering, but in truth an involuntary reaction to the attractively disheveled man in front of her.

“I didn’t ask, you volunteered,” she raises a brow, daring him to disagree with her.  It was the only time they knew her mom would be away from the house.

Grabbing the beer sitting in the driveway, he takes a swig, before pushing his hair back.

“Next time, extra cilantro on your burrito,” he points with his bottle, and she scrunches her face.

“You wouldn’t,” she narrows he eyes teasingly.

“You’re right, I’d never hear the end of it,” he shrugs, until she holds out her burrito to him, and he takes a bite, before shaking his head back in forth in contemplation.

“Mine’s better,” he goads with a dimpled grin.

“They could barely close yours.  One bite and it’s going to spill right onto your lap,” she jokes, right as her phone rings.

“Don’t mock the perfection of my burrito,” he jokes, before grabbing what he needed and heading back underneath the car.

Rolling her eyes at him as she answers, she expect to be called into work when she saw Agent Christopher’s name pop up.

She’s surprised to find that’s not the case after hanging up.  Kneeling down by her car, her hand lightly lands on Wyatt’s knee, trying not to scare him into hitting his head.

“So how do you feel about coming to dinner with me at Agent Christopher’s tonight?”

xxxxx

“Ugh, I don’t get it,” Amy says, groaning loudly.  “Can’t we order pizza already?  I have to leave soon,” she huffs at Lucy.

“This is supposed to be fun,” Lucy laughs, standing on a ladder, a near feat in itself that she hadn’t lost her balance.  The two of them had been decorating the house since getting home from school.  They were officially on winter break.  And after having gone out of town for Thanksgiving, she was looking forward to an open schedule the next few weeks of nothing but spending time with her sister and her boyfriend.

“I check them and then they go out as soon as I put them up,” Amy says, matter of factly, and Lucy bites her lip to keep from laughing at her younger sister.  “Why can’t we just toss them up like normal people?”

“Because we want them to look good?” Lucy tries, placing each strand perfectly spaced as she winds them around the tree.

“But why can’t we use the colored lights?  It looks so much better than the white,” she continues to argue.

“She’s got a point,” Lucy hears, whipping around quickly, nearly tumbling off the ladder, before catching her balance, but losing the Santa hat she was wearing.  The red garment falling to the floor.

xxxxx

Lucy wasn’t unaccustomed to awkward dinners.  She’d become an expert on them over the years with her mother.  But tonight felt different.

Quietly, she eats her food, making sure to chew each bite for as long as she could before swallowing.  The dark eyes of Agent Christopher seemingly watching her every move from across the table.

Quickly averting her eyes, she goes back to cutting into her chicken.  She wasn’t even really that hungry, having just eaten a little while ago, but it keeps her distracted, so she shoves another piece into her mouth.

“How are they?” Agent Christopher asks, her wife walking back into the room.

“Olivia’s conked out, and I just busted Mark for playing that crazy violent video game again,” a knowing tilt of the woman’s head suggesting there wasn’t much she could do.

“Thank you for having us,” Lucy chides in.  “A home cooked meal is a rare and exotic thing in my life these days,” she admits with a smile.

Wyatt nearly snorts with laughter, and she moves to kick him underneath the table, her leg just missing, having been too short to reach him.

Lucy shoots him a look, and he doesn’t even have the decency to wipe the grin off his face.

“Believe me, it was my pleasure,” she laments, and Lucy’s eyes shift back over to Wyatt, the glint of curiosity refusing to leave from his smirk.  “So how long have you two been together?”

A sharp cough shoots out of Lucy’s mouth, choking on her chicken at the question.  Wyatt’s hands come to rest on his chin, waiting for her answer, amusement playing on his lips.

“We’re not…we’re not…together.  We’re just…colleagues,” Lucy clarifies.  For a brief second, she swears she can see the hope falter in Wyatt’s eyes, but just as quickly they recover, landing on Michelle with a raised brow.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just…I assumed…”

Lucy waves her hand nervously, not wanting to embarrass the woman.  

“So you’re a professor?”  She asks, the curiosity of her guests spoken in awkwardness to them with a change of subject.

“The history and anthropology of American political movements,” Lucy proudly admits with a sway of her head, like it was a burden of sorts, tucking her hands into her lap.

“She writes books on them too,” Wyatt throws out with another bite of his food, a proud grin on his face leaving Lucy to heavily sigh.

A knowing smile seems to pass over Michelle’s face.

“Well, that alone makes you the most interesting colleague of Denise’s I’ve ever met,” she admits with a laugh.  Wyatt soon joining in.  “You two are also the only colleagues I’ve ever met.”

“Ignore her.  She’s teasing me,” Agent Christopher jokes, the first smile she’d seen from the woman…ever, maybe.  She was always so serious whenever they were on missions.  It was different to see her in a setting like this - comfortable, laid back, wife and kids.

“I know how that goes,” she not so subtly gestures towards Wyatt.

“Seventeen years, nada,” she goes on, the tone teasing with an underlying tension, the type that only secrets between significant others could spark.  Lucy also knew how that went.

“Michelle,” Denise nervously teases, taking a sip of her wine.

“Hey, I don’t ask questions.  And knowing what she does, I don’t want to ask.  But out of the blue, it’s ‘Make the mustard chicken, Lucy Preston’s coming over.’”

Picking up her wine glass, she swirls the liquid around, a quirk in her smile.

“To be honest, it came as a shock to me, as well,” she shyly admits, sending Michelle’s glance towards Denise.

“Hence me here,” Wyatt says, breaking the tension, downing his own drink.

xxxxx

Rushing over, Wyatt picks up her hat, grabbing onto her arm to steady her.

“You okay?” He asks, checking over her, and Lucy can feel her cheeks heat with a blush, following his blue eyes with her own as they flutter over her.

She nods, not making a sound, just a goofy grin on her face.

He carefully places the hat back on her head, his fingers never refusing a moment to get lost her curls.

“But more importantly, Wyatt agrees with me,” Amy chides in, causing Lucy’s lip to once again be tucked between her teeth, breaking the moment.

She raises a brow, waiting for his answer.

“I mean…they both…look nice,” he tries.

“Nice save,” Lucy says, turning back to the tree.

“What color do you put up?” Amy asks, and when they’re met with silence, she turns back to find Wyatt staring down at the floor, almost like the question had rendered him frozen.

“Hello, Wyatt,” Amy chides, tossing a piece of garland at his face, shaking him out of his reverie.

“My mom always liked the colored ones,” he whispers.  “But white’s good too, looks like snow.”

“I guess,” Amy concedes, causing Wyatt to smile, but Lucy continues staring at him, having never mentioned his mom before, she finds herself curious, but knowing his family is always a topic he tends to avoid, she decides to let it go.

“So pizza?”

xxxxx

The water runs, slicing the silence with its noise, washing the dishes from their dinner clean.

Lucy maneuvers around the table, collecting cloth napkins, attempting to help clear the table.  She felt it was the least she could do, the confusion still playing on her mind of why she had been asked to this impromptu dinner.

“Your family is lovely,” she tries, edging into the topic of why she was here, dancing around with pleasantries, although sincere, still just that, sidesteps.  “Wyatt and Mark seemed to really hit it off,” she teases, knowing full well that he was upstairs playing that video game with him right now.

“Thanks,” Denise says with a laugh, drying the plates, distracted.  “I wanted you to meet them,” her tone taking on a more serious note.

“But your wife does have a point,” she fidgets with the napkin before finally setting it down, letting her hands flop back to her side.  “Why did you invite me over?”

Her words cut to the chase, having been curious about the strange invite since she’d called earlier that day.

Leaning heavily against the counter, Denise sways.

“I’ve been up most nights lately worrying,” she admits.

Lucy’s face tightens, the idea of their lives hanging in the balance not something new, but still something they worried about the deeper they got.

“I know Rufus told you about Rittenhouse—“

“Rittenhouse?” Denise interrupts her.  “Yeah, that’s part of it.  And I’m looking into it, believe me. But what’s really been keeping me awake is your mother.”

She can feel her heart jump at the mention.  Her mother had always been a point of contention with her, dissipating into reverence more so than before when she got sick.  But now that she was well, she felt the cord cut, a little more freedom every time she stepped into that Lifeboat.  She wanted nothing more than for her mom to understand what had happened - that she had another daughter, that they were a family.  But it sounded insane even to her sometimes.

“My mother?”  She asks, scared of what the next part of this explanation would be.

“As hard as it must be for you to remember your sister, what’s worse for me is that your mother doesn’t.”  The worry is written on her forehead, the concern in her voice.  “She has a daughter she doesn’t even know existed.”

Lucy can feel the wound opening up, tearing away from the stitches she’d so carefully laid upon herself, a strangled scream settling in her throat.

“Before the time machine, my worst fear was losing them.  And now it’s that I could lose them and never know they were here,” she solemnly confesses.  “I get it, Lucy.  The pressure you must feel to keep history in tact so more people aren’t just…erased.”

It’s a pressure that Lucy tries not to carry around with her, but with each mission, the weight becomes just a little heavier on her shoulders.  She’d already lost Amy.  The idea of something that she did or something she couldn’t prevent erasing someone’s child absolutely terrified her.

“I want you to do me a favor,” Denise asks, digging into her pocket.  “Keep this in the Lifeboat for me,” she hands over a flash drive.

Lucy hesitantly reaches out to take it.

“What is it?”

“It’s them,” she simply says, realization passing over Lucy’s face.  “Pictures, photographs, kindergarten art.  It’s our life in a disk.  It’s my locket.”

Lucy unconsciously reaches for the locket, the only tangible evidence that Amy existed, that that part of her life existed at all.  Her fist wrapping around the necklace, refusing to let go of her past.

“If you come back someday and they are gone…promise you’ll show it to me and tell me everything about tonight.  I need to know they existed,” she finishes, her voice choking on the last word.

Lucy can feel the tears sting her eyes, every memory of the two in her own locket beating against her palm, having long since sunk into her skin, weaving into her being, only she able to recall their existence.

“Yeah,” she nods with a half grin.  “I will.”

xxxxx

“I can’t believe you eat those,” Wyatt makes a face at Lucy as she shoves a mushroom that had fallen onto her plate into her mouth.

“They’re good,” she says with a scrunch of her nose, not at all apologizing for her taste in food.

“They’re slimy,” he says with a shake of his face, a laugh attached as she continues to inhale her food.

“And think, you kiss that same mouth,” Amy teases, eating a slice of her plain cheese pizza.

Lucy lets out a boisterous laugh at that, a blush accompanying the noise.  Wyatt had been spending quite a bit of time at the house.  Always carefully planned so that he never actually ran into her mom.  It wasn’t hard since she had night classes and stayed late often, but it soon to be made more difficult with the semester coming to an end.

Wyatt sticks his tongue out at Amy, and she rolls her eyes at him.  Lucy smiles to herself, the two of them bickering like they’d known each other forever giving her a feeling that maybe Wyatt was always meant to be here.

“What?” Wyatt asks, turning back to her, a goofy grin on his face, like he’d just caught her staring at a future they didn’t know they had.

“Nothing,” she says jutting out her chin with a closed smile so big it closed her eyes, peeking out her dimples.  He doesn’t even have to steal a kiss, Lucy more than willing to give him one.

“You guys are even more gross than mushrooms,” Amy says, only half teasing, causing Wyatt to duck his head in laughter.

And Lucy takes another big bite of her pizza.

xxxxx

She’d found Wyatt upstairs, having followed the glow of the television screen, animatedly playing a video game with Denise’s son.  She hadn’t seen him this carefree in a long time.  He usually had a worry line, one he might as well name Lucy, because if he wasn’t stressing during a mission, he was cryptically keeping her at bay during their downtime.

Leaning against the doorframe, she doesn’t want to intrude, but he has this lightness about him, his smile not quite the one he gives to her when she’s said something he likes, but close.  He was having fun.  She hadn’t seen it in years.  The way his tongue stuck to the corner of his mouth when he was concentrating, the way his knee would bounce in nervous excitement, the dimples displayed in all their glory.

“Shit, busted,” he’d said, turning around to find her watching.

Lucy raised her brow at him cussing in front of a kid.

“Don’t tell your mom,” he’d pleaded with a quirk of his lips.

Lucy stifled a laugh, Mark clearly old enough that that’s not an issue, but finding it cute that Wyatt was worried.

Looking over at him in the passenger seat, she can see him staring ahead, deep in thought.  That carefree Wyatt she’d seen was gone, replaced with the one that seemed to carry the world on his shoulders.

“So what did Agent Christopher want?” He asks, breaking their silence.

Lucy’s grip on the wheel becomes just a tad tight, shifting in her seat, sending his eyes towards her.

“She wanted her own locket,” she grins, and she doesn’t miss his eyes moving down her to where her own locket sat resting against her, ever so slightly jostling with her movements.

“I mean, she seems nice and all, but I’m not sure how Michelle would feel about that,” he ribs her, causing a small laugh and a shake of her head.  When the silence settles, he almost whispers, “I can’t believe you kept it,” with an almost self-deprecating look.

“Yeah, well, I thought about throwing it at your head a few times,” she says with a teasing grin.

He lets out a laugh that sounds more like a grunt.

Silence engulfing them once again.

“Why didn’t you?” He finally asks, curiosity apparently getting the better of him tonight, as well.

Lucy finds her bottom lip tucked between her teeth, her thoughts scattered, but one memory pervades.

“I needed to know we were real.”

xxxxx

“Amy, what are you doing?” Lucy yells from the couch, having settled down to watch television.

“You’ll see,” she yells back, and Lucy leans back into Wyatt’s arm, playing with the fringe of the blanket she had wrapped around them.

“What is this?” He asks, laughing at the screen.

“Wait,” she leans forward, her hand landing on his thigh.  “You’ve never seen Friends?”

“I’m scared to say no,” he teases, his eyes dancing with the kaleidoscope of the images reflecting in blue, the glow of the lights they’d hung around the living room turned on.

“Okay, that’s what we’re doing this break, catching you up into this decade,” she teases.  “That is the holiday armadillo,” she says matter of factly, and he looks at her with the most adorably confused face, until they’re both cracking up at each other.

“Lucy, my ride’s here,” she hears Amy yell, as she skips into the living room.

“Okay, call if you need anything,” Lucy yells back, before Amy’s head peeks around.

“Bye…” she practically sings.  “Be good,” she says with a wink.

“Oh my god, LEAVE,” Lucy says, tossing a pillow at her head, that has Wyatt laughing, Lucy’s blushing face burying in his shoulder.

xxxxx

“Where’s the real Austin Roe?” She asks, her patience wearing thin, as she trails her team and Flynn into a more private room, a long wooden table extending throughout.

She’d gone from awe at her location, a bit struck by the situation she’d found herself in, sequestered into a room by George Washington.  The threat of eliminating another piece of history, of changing their world so dramatically with the death of what would become the first president of their country enough to beg Wyatt to put his gun down.  To let Flynn get his way, play along with his ruse.

“Dead in a ditch,” he admits, and she can’t even act surprised.

“You’re a bastard,” she says matter-of-factly, no one willing or able to argue otherwise.

“What is all this, Flynn?” Wyatt demands, and she knows he’s not in the least willing to play his game, to put any of them in danger of being betrayed like their own Benedict Arnold.

“I need Lucy,” Flynn confesses, walking closer, and she can’t help but unconsciously find herself stepping closer to Wyatt, hoping he didn’t come across to their side of the table.  Her eyes buried somewhere deep in the pocket of Wyatt’s safety.  “She’ll know how to find Arnold.  She knows everything about him,” and she swears it almost sounds like praise.

“Why?” Wyatt grits out, becoming more frustrated with each word.  “So you can help him?”

The question was loaded, Flynn admitting to doing what he seemed to do best, beating the hell out of a man to get what he wanted.

Tossing the scrolled note from the key Bonnie and Clyde had, she can’t control the slight shiver or the shift of her eyes towards Wyatt, his own pairs of blues meeting her’s at the mention of what had happened with the pair of thieves.

They still held the possibilities of that night on the tip of their tongue.

“Read it,” Flynn demands, Lucy slowly opening the parchment.

“It’s a letter Benedict wrote to his wife.  It says something about a Rittenhouse meeting,” her words sinking in to everyone in the room.  “Are you saying Benedict Arnold was a member of Rittenhouse?”

“He wasn’t just a member.  He was a founding member.  This is the year it began.  We’re gonna kill Rittenhouse in the crib.  We’re gonna stop them before they ever get started,” Flynn says with such conviction, like he can see the outcome of the future if this were a success.  

Lucy can’t say that the idea doesn’t intrigue her, the chance to go home and have Amy waiting for her.

“You’re going to hunt these people down and you want us to help you?” The question coming out sounding as far fetched as this day was becoming.

Rufus argues against the subject only spurring Flynn’s frustration until he shares a deal.

“I’ll make this easy,” he practically seethes, before straightening.  “You help me here, now, and I’ll hand over the keys to the Mothership, all yours,” he offers.

The deal sounds too good to be true, except that it will literally do exactly what Agent Christopher and her had discussed earlier - change history in a way that could erase even more people, their family and loved ones, in ways they couldn’t possibly imagine.

The suggestion of this possibility not going over well with Flynn, instead urging him to threaten to continue this chase, with a hundred more trips, changing history as they go.  

“We can end this, Lucy, now,” he bangs on the table with his fist, causing her to flinch, as he soothingly whispers at her in a strained tone.  She stares at him, trying to examine why he wants this so badly, if the risk is really worth it.

She glances over at Wyatt, his eyes narrowed, his fingers flexing, attempting not to form into fists.

Leaning back, Flynn yanks out the journal, the one he’d been taunting her with since the beginning.  Wth a raise of his brow, he rips out several pages, handing them over as a sign of goodwill, letting her read how bad Rittenhouse was in her own words…or so he claimed.

“You’re so full of crap, it’s coming out of your ears,” Wyatt mutters at him, as Lucy snatches the pages from Flynn’s hand, scanning over the handwriting that looked identical to her own.  “We’re not going to help you.  Not after everything we’ve been through.”

It’s as if they had stepped right into his trap, Flynn having anticipated that that’s exactly how Wyatt would react.  And Lucy can’t help but wonder how much is said in this journal.  If it really was her future self, did Flynn know everything?

“I figured you’d say that, so I’m sweetening the pot.  You help me, and I’ll tell you the name of the doctor.”

Wyatt’s mouth hangs open in shock.  Flynn having rendered him speechless, over what, she’s unsure.  Staring at Wyatt, another secret, one that apparently meant more to him than she ever did, has her ducking her head back to the pages she was holding.  Her lip finding its way between her teeth.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Wyatt accuses, teeth gritted, and a determined look on his face now, in place of what was once shock.

“Don’t I?” He claims, waving the journal like it held all the secrets of the universe.  “You looked for him, nothing came up, like he didn’t exist.  He does,” he says with a conspiratorial smile, and Lucy looks between Wyatt and Flynn, trying to decipher the cryptic conversation they seemed to be having - one in which her future self apparently knew all about.

The deal out in the open, the promise of all of this ending if they only helped Flynn.

And before she knows it, they’re running right into the camp of the enemy.

xxxxx

Standing in the kitchen, she looks up to see the time, waiting for their hot chocolate to be done.  One of the few things she could make without burning, if it was in the microwave.

“You need any help?” Wyatt’s blue eyes piercing through her, leaning against the island across from her.

“Nope, I haven’t burned the place down…yet,” she teases, and he nods in a way that makes her stomach flip.

Straightening, he moves to her side of the island, his back now against the hard granite, arms extended, reaching towards her to bring her into him.

Her hips meet his with a soft laugh, her hands landing on his chest to steady herself.  His fingers settle on the skin flirting with the air between her jeans and sweater.

His eyes keep wandering, causing her brow to furrow trying to figure out what he’s doing.

Slipping his fingers into the belt loops of her jeans, he moves her ever so slightly to the right.

“What are you doing?” She laughs, his eyes gesturing up for her to look.  A sprig of mistletoe hanging above them.

“You did this?” She asks, surprise tinting her voice, her arms moving to wrap around his neck, bringing them closer.

“Your sister,” he grins.  “With my suggestion…”

“I think that’s against the rules,” she chides, barely hitting his lips with her finger.

He brings his face ever so close to her own, his words whispering across her lips.

“I think we’re already breaking a few rules—“  His words barely escaping his mouth, their tease enough to have Lucy launching herself at him.

The mistletoe hanging above them as his warmth pressed into her lips, her whole body slowly molding into him, his tongue moving against her lips, before she pulls back, the sound of the microwave going off.

Her cheeks red, and her eyes still fluttered closed.  She feels his soft lips on her forehead before moving to grab the mugs.

xxxxx

The candlelight casts a shadow across Lucy’s pensive face, her fingers pressured by her lips, teeth threatening to bear into the flesh.  

“Okay, Arnold and Flynn will be down any second, what do we think?” Wyatt asks, standing close to her, his hands on his hips, his voice already hinting at a tone that suggests he’s going to agree.

Lucy looks up at him, lowering her hand to her neck, tracing where her locket should be, having left it in the Lifeboat.  

“I’m in,” Rufus agrees, no hesitation, and Lucy’s head snaps over to him.  She couldn’t believe how readily they were willing to head into dangerous territory to change history so much that the world they came back to would be unrecognizable.

“You’re the one that called us a bunch of Benedict Arnolds,” Wyatt jokes with a half grin, but Lucy’s face remains stoic.  Rufus’ impassioned speech about taking off the head of the snake, killing one man in order to free him and his family, enough to get his vote.

“I vote yes too,” Wyatt says with a tilt of his head.  Her hands wring around her neck, as if begging for something to hold onto, a link to her past, something to anchor her to what they were about to do.

Her eyes plead with Wyatt for more time, not the first time she’d shot him that look.  Her teary eyes not quite wanting to accept that this might actually be the end.

“If we do this…history’s going to change,” she throws out.  “What if—what if more people vanish like my sister?” She argues, at the real issue of why she was hesitating.  Here Flynn was taking out important people in history, but every person in history was important to someone.  You didn’t need to be included in a history book to mean something to someone.  

“What if more people are saved?” Wyatt argues, and she avoids his eyes, crossing her arms, wrapping them around herself.  “Hell, what if you come home to Amy?”

The thought had crossed her mind, but was it a sacrifice she was willing to make?  Kill one to save others?  Her panicked eyes flitter over Wyatt, her throat bobbing with indecision.

“Luce,” he whispers, stepping closer to her in the candlelight.  “This isn’t like saving the Alamo.  This is killing one evil person to save hundreds of people possibly,” his argument coming out in a soft cadence against her.  “I’m sorry, but I don’t think ‘history’ is a good enough reason to let people suffer.”

She shakes her head, not wanting to be the reason that suffering continues, but scared of what the outcome might be.  She’d spent her whole life studying history, and then trying to protect it on these missions, and now…she was being asked to ignore that.  Ignore everything she’d been taught.

Wyatt’s hand reaches out, unclenching her grip around herself, letting one of her arms fall to her side, the other softly cradled in his callused hands.

“Lucy, I know you,” he says, and god she wished he didn’t sometimes.  “What you really believe in is helping people,” his thumb gently tracing the lifelines of her hand, the ones he knew so well, had followed along with her for so long until breaking off onto his own.

Stepping closer, his mouth hovers above her ear, his every breath a soft gust of a whisper against her.  

“We’re in this together, Luce.  Whatever you decide.  I’m with you,” he assures her.  Not pressuring her one way or the other.  He’d argued his side, but had ultimately left the decision up to her.  

Her choice.

xxxxx

Lucy plays with the neck of his shirt, tracing her finger over the grooves of the thread holding it together.  Staring transfixed, she pays no attention to the static that now plays on the television, her tape she’d recorded the episode on having long since ended.

She’s not sure what Wyatt is doing, but he’s quiet, as if watching her with apt attention, fixated on her path up and down his neck.

“Wyatt,” she murmurs.

“Hmm,” he hums, his grip around her pulling her closer.

Most nights they somehow ended up entangled on her couch, Amy on the other side, keeping them from doing much other than a few stolen kisses when she wasn’t looking.

Tonight, they were alone.  Amy having left to hang out with her friends on their break.

“You said earlier…your mom…,” she hesitates, not wanting to bring the mood down, but curious about what he’d meant by the comment.  “Used to put up lights…” she trails off, hoping that he’d move to fill the silence.

Resting her head on his chest, she can feel him open his mouth, just slightly, before shutting it quickly.  The turmoil inside of him, debating what and how much to say is obvious, the beat of his nervous heart ticking next to her ear.

“She passed away, Lucy,” he quietly admits.  “It was a long time ago,” he tries to dismiss the event, like he shouldn’t still be sad about it.  His hands hesitate on her back, as if wanting to pull her close, but so used to pushing others away, that he was rendered between indecision.

Lifting her head to meet his eyes, she sees they’ve quietly filled with unshed tears he was trying to hold in.

Her hand moves to his cheek, her thumb wiping at the moisture gathering.

“I’m so sorry, Wyatt,” wanting to take the pain away, and knowing there was nothing she could say that would ever do that for him.  “You know…I’m here…if you ever want to…talk,” she offers, knowing that although it wasn’t necessarily his thing, she was more than willing to have it be her’s.

“You being here is enough,” he answers against her, the words taking flight in her veins and settling somewhere deep into her being.

“I’m with you.”

xxxxx

The rickety wagon picks up again, the horses having now gotten their water.  The information Flynn had just given her, faltering her feelings on the situation at hand.  Her indecision paired with the uncertainty of what would await them as they got home, unsettling her stomach, rendering her quiet.

“You okay?” Wyatt asks beside her, and she nods, her curls bouncing as the wagon continues on.

She notices that his eyes never stop wandering to their surroundings, always on duty to protect them.  But his body was now angled towards her, his words coming out softly as the sounds of the wagon drowned out much of everything.

“Wyatt,” she hesitates, not sure how to phrase her question.

“We’re going to be okay,” he says, thinking that their safety was what she was worried about.  Instead it was the idea that what they did in there today would somehow taint her in the eyes of her sister if she were to get her back.  

He grabs her hand resting underneath her cape, and intwines their fingers together, aligning their lifelines once again.  

“I won’t let anything bad happen,” he promises, as they stop in front of the house, the horses halting.

She glances over at him, a silent plea for that to be true as they entire the house, a gentle squeeze, before they let each other go.

xxxxx

“I should probably get going,” Wyatt says, rustling Lucy awake, having fallen asleep on him.  Groggily she glances up at the clock seeing that it’s about the time he usually leaves.  Neither of them wanting to chance the encounter of her mom coming home early.

“Noo,” Lucy moans, grabbing onto his shirt.  “Don’t leave me,” she playfully says, his head cocking to the side, learning that while he had no problem arguing with her when they didn’t agree, it was mostly in jest, and when she asked him for something, he had a hard time saying no.

“I don’t want to get you in trouble,” he says while standing, always looking out for her.  Staring up at him, still holding on his hand, she lightly yanks on it, all but begging for him to stay, five more minutes.

Bending over, she lets go of his fingers, thinking she’s won.  His hands land somewhere on the cushion behind her, his face inches away from her own.

She takes the opportunity to pull the same move he’d made before, brushing her lips against the soft pair in front of her with her words.

“Please, Wyatt,” she begs, her hands coming back to the neck of his collar, pulling him down on top of her.

xxxxxx

Hearing the words of a young boy spouted from a tyrannical opinion of his father, she can’t help but both be surprised, and horrified that of course Rittenhouse turned out to be just as bad as they knew them to be when they started with this philosophy.

She hears the tiny man who started it all come in, his small spectacles resting on the tip of his nose, but the air of arrogance saturated the room as he walked through.  She kept her head down, continuing to sit in the chair, not wanting to call attention to herself.  But he sees her anyway.

“May I get a better look at you?” He gestures towards her, and she can feel her heart jump into her throat.  “My eyes aren’t want they used to be.”  His request sounding innocent enough, but she knew underneath his tone was a sinister reason.

The young boy, John, comes over to escort her, and her eyes immediately rush to Wyatt’s at the word “examine” that he uses.  She can see the worry in his eyes, and the promise he’d made coming into question so soon.

She refuses to meet Rittenhouse’s eye, the man who had caused so much pain to her and her family standing in front of her.  She can feel Wyatt passing behind her, circling as if to make sure that not one wrong move was made.

Without asking, Rittenhouse reaches out, grabbing her chin, like she was a piece of property that he must make sure is in good condition before he makes his own.

“You have good strong teeth.  Good skull proportion,” he declares, his grip tighter as she squirms.

“Stop,” she demands, wrenching her face out of his grip.

“Your hips are a bit narrow, but no one’s perfect,” he snidely says, adjusting his glasses.  “Tell me, have you reproduced yet?”

She can practically feel Wyatt’s anger radiating off of him from behind her, and he eyes wander over towards him as she thinks about the question, before twitching back towards the creepy man in front of her.

“No,” she grits out.

“Good.”

And before she knows it, a man’s arm is around her, a knife put at her throat, the edge threatening to slit her open if she made one wrong move.

“What are you doing?” Wyatt grunts, Lucy’s panicked breathing only bringing her closer to the blade of the knife.

“These men are here to kill me,” he says, as if it were obvious.  “The sweat on her brow, the look on his face, it’s not the first time I’ve seen that look.  You mean me harm,” he says matter of factly, having already gotten the upper hand.

The man holding Lucy has a tight grip on her, and although she’s frightened, she can’t help but feel she deserved this.  The plan was flawed, her conscience weighing heavy.

“But don’t worry, my dear.  We’ll still find a good use for you,” Rittenhouse says as he saunters over to her, looking her up and down, and she swears, her fear grows ten fold, a creak of the floorboard letting her know that Wyatt, even with a gun to his head, hadn’t taken too kindly to the comment.

xxxxxx

Up until this point, her and Wyatt had taken things slowly, not wanting to rush into anything, her nerves usually getting the better of her, overthinking things to the point of scaring herself right out of what she wanted.

But this kiss was different than the ones before.  They had been treading water, neither one of them wanting to jump right into the deep end just yet, but something about tonight had sparked a need in both of them.

One of his hands tangles in her hair, as her’s wander over his chest, her kisses nipping at his lip, a guttural moan escaping from her lips, that at any other time would’ve sent her in a fit of laughter with a tantalizing blush, but this time only seems to spur her on, his free hand seemingly drawing circles on her bare skin in a way that drives her insane.

His mouth traces her jaw, sending a trail of goosebumps down her spine, before landing on her neck, where she swears she can hear her name etched into her skin with his tongue.

She moves her leg to get more comfortable, and her knee grazes against him in a way that makes his breath hitch in a tense sigh, that only had her yearning to have him make that sound again.

Arching her back, it sends his hand higher, dusting across the bottom of her bra that had her shivering.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs into her neck, and she swears she could feel that question on every nerve ending of her body.

She nods into him.

“Yes.”

xxxxx

The gunshots ring out throughout the room, Arnold’s body crumples on the floor, several bullets littering his body.  This wasn’t supposed to happen.

It’s the thought that keeps going through her head as the tears spring to her eyes, pulling on the arm that has her in a death grip, the tip of the knife digging into her neck at her movement, before yanking her back to her spot.

Rittenhouse’s mouth moves with words, but she can’t hear any of it, her ears ringing with fear, vibrating through every nerve in her body.  It’s only when he motions with his hand, bringing Wyatt and Flynn to their knees, that she snaps back, pulling at her human restraint.

“No!  No!” She screams, as Wyatt falls to the ground.  She tries to catch his eyes, his promise weighing heavy on her.  He promised he wouldn’t leave again.  He promised he wouldn’t let anything bad happen.

“You two are sentenced to death,” he declares, quickly turning his back to approach her again.  “And you are to be brought to my bedchamber.”

Her teeth grit together, and she flings her limbs as she’s dragged out of the door.

“Wyatt!” She yells, trying to catch his attention, not wanting this to be the last time she sees him.  Not again.

A gunshot signaling her fate.

xxxxxx

As Lucy laid on that couch, Wyatt’s mouth outlining the way he felt for her with every small movement, she couldn’t help but feel something akin to safe.  It was the temptation of an emotion that couldn’t quite utter, didn’t want to think could happen, but bubbled on the surface of her skin in the wake of his touch.  

And the way he touched her wasn’t searching for a version of her he wanted, it wasn’t demanding like he was owed her, it was soft, revered, almost like he wasn’t sure he actually deserved what was happening.  She was a puzzle he was slowly learning to put together by examining each piece, never anticipating the next move, allowing her to show him.

Lucy eyes hazy, her lashes shielding most of her view, as she gazes down at Wyatt, before moving his lips back to her own, the taste of a promise on his lips.

She doesn’t even hear the door being opened and shut, the light footsteps of the heels on the hardwood floor carrying towards the living room.  

Lucy doesn’t hear a thing but the sound of her name on Wyatt’s lips until a sharp gasp is let out and Carol Preston stands behind them glaring down at the two of them with the most terrifying gaze Lucy has ever seen.

xxxxxx

When she pictured how the night was going to go, standing in front of a child, begging Flynn not to kill him, was not part of the plan.

The plan had been to kill one man.  One man.  Not a child.  She’d almost lost Wyatt, nearly flying into his arms when she’d made it back into the room to find her team standing around a bunch of Rittenhouse bodies.  One hug, that was it, before they’d separated.

Flynn screams at her to move, his red, angry face an image she hadn’t wanted to see.  And although he heart threatens to beat out of her chest, she refuses to move.

Her scream isn’t nearly as loud as his, but she does it.  She argues with the man who has long since crossed the line of decency, hoping for an outcome that she has yet to witness with him.

“You have a choice right now!  We all have choices.  We can—“ she hesitates, the idea of killing a child because of who his father is and what he might be not lost on her.  “We can decide to be something different!”

Flynn turns on her, slowly making his way towards the child, a grimacing look on his face.

“Please, no.  Please, please, don’t do this,” she pleads, tears streaming down her face, but her legs refusing to move, not wanting to expose this boy to a fate that never should’ve befallen him.

Flynn grabs onto her wrist, his hand taking up her entire forearm, affirming how much bigger he was than her.  His grip is menacing, his teeth gritted together in an angry sneer.  She’s gone from the gentle, relieved touch of Wyatt to the rage grip Flynn had on her.

“Get out of my way,” he tosses her, not letting go of his grip, instead flinging her like a doll, only to reveal that the boy had escaped.

This only angers him further, Lucy’s free hand wrapped around his, trying to loosen the death grip he had on her on arm.

Yanking her around as he looks, he seems to make a decision.

“Where are you taking me?” She asks, her sobbing momentarily stopped, knowing that at least the boy was safe.  Unlike herself.

“I thought you knew what was at stake.  Come on!” He barks at her.

“Wyatt!  Wyatt!”  She screams, as she’s dragged through the brush towards the Mothership.

“Lucy!”  She hears back, Wyatt’s panicked voice echoing to her.

“No!  No!” She pleads, trying to dig her heels into the ground, but it’s no use, he drags her with him.

“Lucy!” She hears again, and she closes her eyes, praying that Wyatt finds her in time.

“Let go of me!” She demands, but Flynn  seems to have taken a deaf ear towards her.  The fear mounts in her as she’s shoved into a chair in the Mothership, the door closing behind her, only the shouts of Wyatt calling her name cane be heard, as a terrifying sneer of Flynn seen.

xxxxx

A/N: helllllllo.

i know, i know.  it’s been forever a day since i updated this fic.  and the longer it went on, the more nervous i got that whatever i put out next had to be perfect in order to make up for the lack of updating.  it was a terrible spiral of procrastination and rattling self-confidence that led us here.

but finally, FINALLY, chapter ten is posted.

as always, i appreciate any reviews/comments/feedback.  it makes my day and inspires me to write more (both one shots and beyond).  so please do so.

i hope you enjoyed.

[stopforamoment]

Part Three: The One (Series 26, Part 3 of 16)

Series Twenty-Six: Meeting the Desrosiers (Sixteen Parts) My masterlist is at the end of my bio.

Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three) Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OC Rinda Parks Word Count: 553   Rating: M for Language, Triggers for Parent/Child Dysfunctional Relationships

Author’s Note: Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all of her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this. The keep reading link shows up on my laptop but not my phone. Ugh. Thank you @asherella-is-a-dork-3​​ and @bobasheebaby​​  for always being my sounding board! Thank you @silviasutton1989​​ ​ @riseandshinelittleblossom​​​ @tornbetween2loves​​ @sirbeepsalot​​ @innerpostmentality​​ @kennaxval​​ @strangerofbraidwood @sawyeroakleyscowboyhat @begging-for-kamilah @teamtomsato @jovialyouthmusic​​ for still being a part of the journey!

Series Summary: Rinda’s parents come to visit for a week to meet Bastien and spend Thanksgiving with them, and poor Bastien has to run interference for his Tria when her mother is a passive aggressive bitch.

Chapter Summary: Bastien has the patience of a saint, and Rinda assures her father that Bastien is absolutely “The One” for her.

Part Three: The One

The men stood in silence as they waited by the baggage carousel. Bastien could tell Mr. Desrosiers was enjoying some much-needed silence and time away from his wife, but Bastien frequently looked back to see how Rinda was doing with her mother. Fortunately, Henry was excellent buffer and Mrs. Desrosiers focused most of her attention on her grandson.

As the luggage started to arrive Mrs. Desrosiers pushed her way toward the carousel, standing in front of her husband to point out her luggage as it slid onto the belt. Mr. Desrosiers unceremoniously moved his wife out of the way so he could grab the first suitcase, and Rinda and Henry stepped forward to begin moving the luggage off to the side so other people could gather their belongings.

“Mom if you want to wait by the luggage, Bonk and I will bring it over to you.”

Rinda bent over to hug Henry and whisper something in his ear, and Bastien ruffled Henry’s hair. “That’s a good idea, Henry. Thank you for helping us.” Mr. Desrosiers smiled when he saw the affection between Bastien and his grandson, but the moment was short-lived as Mrs. Desrosiers clawed her husband and pointed at another piece of luggage. Bastien quickly stepped in to grab it. “Mr. Desrosiers, if you’d like to stand with Rinda, Henry and I could get the rest of your luggage.” He grinned at Rinda’s mother. “If you don’t mind staying here to help us identify it.”

Mr. Desrosiers smirked and quickly went to join Rinda, shaking his head as he watched Bastien navigate the luggage—and Rinda’s mother. “He’s very patient, isn’t he?”

Rinda smiled and nodded, not saying anything. She didn’t need to. She had a close relationship with her father, at least when he wasn’t sticking his foot in his mouth, and she knew that was his way of acknowledging Bastien had the qualities Rinda needed in a partner---qualities her father failed to show in his interactions with her mother.

“And Henry really likes him, doesn’t he? What does Henry call him?”

Rinda turned to her father, and he saw her eyes begin to turn luminous green with happiness. “Yes. Henry calls him ‘Bonk.’ I don’t know why—it’s a secret between the two of them that even I can’t know, and I love that. They love each other very much.” Rinda was quiet for a moment, waiting until Henry dropped off another suitcase before continuing. “Bastien thinks of Henry as his son, yet he doesn’t expect Henry to call him ‘dad.’ He knows that he isn’t replacing Jameson as Henry’s dad and he’s . . . he’s absolutely perfect with everything.” She looked at her father. “I really love him, dad. Jameson will always be a part of me, and Henry, but Bastien’s the one. I’m absolutely positive.”

Mr. Desrosiers put his arms around Rinda and kissed the top of her head. “That makes me happy. I could not have parted with you, my Rinda, to any one less worthy.” Rinda smiled at her father’s reference to Pride and Prejudice, knowing all too well her dad’s heart would break if she ended up in an unhappy marriage like his. Rinda also knew how lucky she was to find love, and the perfect partner, a second time in her life.

[hopeishappinessff]

Holding Onto Hope: Chapter 26

Hope

I lay snuggled against Chris’s chest as he sat on my bed with his back against the wall and his legs spread wide to accommodate me. We were supposed to be watching some movie on Netflix on the large screen of the smart tv on the other side of the room, but I was entirely too focused on trying not to slip into a quiet slumber with the way Chris gently massaged the tips of his fingers against my scalp. It’d been nearly a week since we got back from Thanksgiving break and I was surprised to say the least when we got back to school and he made more than an effort to constantly spend time with me. It was almost overkill how much we hung out together, but he didn’t seem to mind and because of that… neither did I. Like today for instance, even after I told him that Destani and I had invited Angel and Cammie over for some girl time to catch up after the break, he still insisted that he come over to “chill” with us because he missed me… even though we’d just spent an entire week together at my dad’s. I didn’t argue though… I simply made sure to answer the door when he came knocking with Taylor right behind him.

“Shit! What the fuck ya’ll niggas got us watching?” Cammie squealed from her seat beside Chris and I on the small bed. She was wrapped up in one of my fluffy blankets and she had created a small fort around herself and still kept a pillow in her lap to cover her eyes when necessary.

“Bruh, this shit ain’t even scary… what you jumping for?” Taylor laughed from his strewn position on Destani’s bed. He was lying flat on his stomach facing the tv and Destani sat up against the wall with her legs tossed lazily over his butt with her own small fort formed around her and yes… a pillow smashed right up against her face.

“Tuh, not scary… babe did you not see this old lady hop all in front of the camera like that? Like how did she even know that shit was there?” Destani said as she continued to press the pillow against her face. “Got damn I don’t know, but gimme a pillow puta… this movie is outta line right now!” Angel fussed from where she sat perched up against Destani’s bed on the floor. Ever since the very first time they’d visited our room, she’d taken some strange liking to the shag hipster rug near the side of Destani’s bed and she insisted on laying on it through the duration of the movie. Barely peaking over the side of her own pillow, Destani snatched one up from the head of her bed and tossed it down right on the top of Angel’s head which turned out perfect for her because she simply tugged it down over her head.

I could feel the vibration of Chris’s raspy laughter, but again it was a struggle for me to even keep my eyes open so I ignored it and kept my face snuggled against his firm chest.

“You scared too lil bitty?” He mumbled with his lips pressed against the top of my head.

“Huh?” I muttered, briefly snatching my eyes open in an effort to understand what he’d just said. He flexed his chest out a bit and I could feel him looking down at me, but I simply clung onto the sides of his shirt like a child and weaseled around into a more suitable position.

“Are you even watching the movie girl?” He asked quietly.

“No… I’m sleepy.”

He laughed softly again and a short tingle shot from my scalp to my toes as he slithered his fingertips along the span of my back “You weren’t sleepy when I got here. Don’t fall asleep on me now babe… wake up.”

“What are we even watching?” I asked in a sleep laden voice.

“The Visit.”

“Ugh, why?” I pushed myself up from him and with a yawn, ran a hand through my unruly hair.

“Because…” His voice trailed off and I glanced over at him to see him watching me as he nibbled into the corner of his bottom lip.

With a playful roll of my eyes, I made a move to get completely off the bed only to be stopped by the feeling of him tugging me back to him.

“Where you going?” He asked.

“Now I have to pee.” Politely snatching away from him, I finally made my way off the bed and moved toward the bathroom. I wasn’t sure if he thought I was tricking him and moving away to sit somewhere else or what, but his stare never left me and I could feel it burning into me until I was around the corner and locked away in the small restroom. After handling my business and quietly sitting there for a moment attempting to overcome my sudden fatigue, I finally finished up and reached to pull the door open only to flinch and jump back about a foot when I spotted Chris perched up on the cramped counter space right outside the bathroom door.

“Gosh, you scared me… what are you doing?” I asked breathlessly with a hand pressed against my heaving chest.

“Waiting for you.” He mumbled.

“You couldn’t have waited right where you were on the bed?”

He shook his head abruptly and quickly swiped his tongue out over his lips “It’s too crowded over there.”

With a shake of my head, I ignored him momentarily as I made my way to the sink to wash my hands. Of course the entire time I did so, I could feel his golden eyed stare on me.

“You know I hate when you stare at me like that.” I mumbled, not bothering to lift my gaze from the towel I used to dry my hands with.

“And you know I can’t help it.” As soon as I finished drying my hands, he had a hand wrapped loosely around my left arm and he tugged me over until I was wedged comfortably between his parted legs. He lowered one hand to rest at my side while he slithered the other through my hair, tugging it back slightly so I could look up at him.

“You think they’ll notice if we…” “No Chris, not with all our friends right around this corner.” I fussed before he could even finish his question, practically snatching my head right out of his grasp. He only chuckled softly, but caught my head and pulled me right back to him… this time quickly latching his plump lips against the side of my neck. I gasped aloud before I could catch myself and gripped onto his thighs as he kept his lips hooked on my neck and swirled his hot tongue against my skin. The hand that he had planted against my side continued to pull me closer to him than I thought possible and soon, I could feel the most prominent erection pressed against my stomach.

“Mmm, what are you doing?” I moaned softly.

“You feel that shit?” He groaned as he slithered his lips around to the other side of my neck, “That’s all you baby.”

“What is wrong with you?” I whispered.

“You do this to me. I can’t help it.” He said. Sure the last time we’d done anything sexual had been a week ago when we got caught at my dad’s, but I figured what we’d done in that basement was enough to hold him over. It’s like I couldn’t even be in the same room as him without some type of sexual tension building between the two of us. I didn’t even have time to respond back to him… he’d already moved up past the front of my neck and latched his moist lips onto mine, leaving me to moan right into his mouth. He kissed me slow, gripping onto the side of my neck and barely rotating his head from side to side as though truly trying to appreciate every second he kept his lips against mine. I held onto the front of his shirt with one hand and continued to grip his thigh with the other, all while silently praying that I wouldn’t moan out too loud and draw any attention to us.

We kissed for what felt like forever and the air around us seemed to get hotter the more he touched me… and boy were his hands roaming. He had a firm grip on my left breast at this point and I was sure it was his hand that’d become entangled in the hair at the nape of my neck… so I didn’t immediately recognize the sensation of another hand palming my butt. It wasn’t until I felt warm air against the back of my neck that I realized Chris clearly wasn’t the only one fondling me, so I quickly snatched away from him and swiftly swung around to find Cammie only a few inches away from me with the slyest smirk on her face.

“Cammie, what are you doing?” I whispered harshly. I definitely didn’t intend on drawing any attention to this situation.

“I’m just tryna get my lil feel in too.” She giggled, stretching a hand out once again to grip my butt. Reflexively, I slapped her hand away from me and turned completely so that my back was to Chris and I was fully facing her.

“What do you mean get your feel in?” I asked, unsure of whether this girl was joking or not.

“Ya’ll just looked like you were having fun and I wanted to join in again.” The smirk hadn’t left her face and the horror-stricken expression hadn’t left mine. Again? What did she mean again?

“I told you.” Chris had leaned in close to the side of my face and he whispered in my ear just loud enough for me to hear. My eyes instinctively rolled at the thought of what he had indeed tried to explain to me about our last “encounter” with Cammie, but even standing in the girl’s presence with her attempting to fondle me I was going to continue to deny it. I refused to believe that I had done anything sexual at all with my friend… my girl friend.

“Listen, Cammie… I really don’t know what you’re talking about. But I’m not, really… into that.”

She chortled softly through her nose as her eyes danced over my frame and she crossed her arms up over her chest.

“Into what?” She asked, “Fucking other girls? Because if my memory serves me correctly, you’ve pretty much already done that.”

Chris snorted behind me and by the time I swung around to glare at him, he’d already slapped a closed fist up over his mouth and his face was obviously red from fighting back his laughter. I could feel the heat rising in my own cheeks at this point and I almost regretted turning back to face her... she was about to call me right out and I was not ready for that.

“Look love, I kinda already figured you out at this point. I’m not gonna lie and say I didn’t have a little hope that I could have my way with you, because truthfully I’m really attracted to you. But obviously,” She paused to cut her eyes over at Chris then bit into her bottom lip as her eyes dropped to his right hand which was hooked protectively to my hip, “I can’t always have my way.”

I had no clue what to say at this point. From the moment I met Cammie, I’d always considered her a friend and a close friend at that. Sure I had my suspicions about her when we met, but I chose not to outright judge her and I brushed my assumptions off. I was left almost speechless from her brashness and for a while I really didn’t know how to respond to her.

“Cammie… are… are you gay?” I asked quietly, subtly gripping onto Chris’s knee. She stared at me for a moment and thoughtlessly swept her pierced tongue out over her lips then she dropped her head and giggled.

“I don’t like to consider myself gay. I think of it more as… exploring my options, I guess. I don’t know… I’m attracted to men, but I just have my preference.” She explained calmly. Though I was almost completely sure of it before, hearing it from her mouth directly still caught me off guard and my brows shot up momentarily with shock before I quickly regained my composure.

“So you prefer women?” Chris chimed in, nearly making me flinch because I almost forgot he was even behind me. Cocking her head to one side, she swept her gaze over to him almost lustfully and I realized I couldn’t even be mad at her for looking at my boyfriend in such a way right in front of me… I’d already learned that Cammie’s personality was that of a natural seductress and she simply couldn’t help it. Not to mention her squinted and slanted eyes and constantly smirking, pouty pink lips kind of made her look like she was literally always flirting.

“Primarily.” She answered with ease.

“Nice.” He muttered.

“But I’m sorry for, you know… coming onto you or whatever,” She sighed through her nose, slithered her tongue out over her lips once more, and switched her weight to one leg with her arms still crossed over her chest, “I think you’re very beautiful, but I’ll just continue to live with the memory of the one night we did get to share… it really was amazing. But I promise not to try to touch anymore… unless you want me to.”

In some weird and awkward way, she made me feel a bit more at ease about her now exposed sexuality. It just felt nice to not have to assume anymore and though I knew it would take some time to get adjusted to the thought of her being attracted to me, at least she’d put it out on the table that she was interested and I’d made it very clear that I was not.

“But I have to tell you… I don’t know that I’ve ever experienced a couple quite as freaky as you two. And I certainly don’t know no bitch who can squirt like a got damn fire hydrant like you Sy. I was hoping I could see that one last time…”

“We can make that happen!” Chris blurted, prompting me to nudge my elbow into his stomach and playfully roll my eyes.

“Cammie…”

“I know, I know...” She giggled, “A girl can only dream right?”

   Chris

“So, how was your Thanksgiving break?” Dr. Yates asked with that infamous warm smile on her face.

“It was good… really good actually. How was yours?” I asked as I leaned back in my good ole lounge seat across from her desk.

She stared at me for a moment, as if shocked that I was actually openly engaging in a conversation with her, then blinked a few times with that smile still on her face “It was very well, thank you for asking. But tell me about yours… what was good about it?”

I quickly noted that she hadn’t opened up her notebook yet, so perhaps she genuinely wanted to know how my break went.

“Well, I got to spend some much needed time with my family and friends… that was great. I got to see my son,” I said, instantly smiling from ear to ear as I thought back to Jaylen’s bright and beautiful little face, “I didn’t wanna let him go… he’s literally like, the best baby ever.” She laughed softly and tilted her head curiously “That’s great. How’s that little handsome guy doing?”

“He’s doing really great. He barely cried the entire time… he’s such a good boy.”

“Aww, it sounds like someone is head over heels for their little one. That’s wonderful Christopher… he sounds like an absolute delight.” She beamed.

“Yeah, he is…” My voice trailed off and so did my attention as I sat there reminiscing on the short time I got to spend with Jay. I missed him, I definitely couldn’t deny that. Besides Hope, he was really the only other person who could bring me an extended peace of mind. Having the both of them together for a whole week was like the fuel I needed going back to school and now I could proudly say I hadn’t even come close to having any incidents in the near week we’d been back at school.

“Was Hope with you during the break?” She asked.

“Yeah, she was there… along with her aunt. We were all at her dad’s house.”

“And what was that like?” She was opening the little notebook now and I stared at it as she smoothly slid a drawer open on her desk to retrieve a pen. I was almost beginning to resent that thing. It held some of my deepest and darkest secrets and I always knew the moment she pulled it out, she was preparing to force me to dig even deeper into my mind and soul which was something I wasn’t used to.

“It was nice, but it didn’t start out that way.” I mumbled, barely loud enough for her to hear.

“Why do you say that?”

“She was upset with me before the break… really upset… and I actually thought she’d broken up with me.”

“What happened that would make her upset enough to have you under the assumption that she’d broken up with you?” She asked, scribbling occasionally in the book.

“I got in an altercation and it pissed her off…” My voice trailed off again because this was one of those moments where I didn’t really know if I wanted to share specific details with her out of fear of her snitching to the authorities on my ass.

“Yes, I am aware of the altercation,” She said, not even bothering to stop writing, “May I ask why?”

I stared at her for a moment, completely stunned that she was already well aware of my fuck up.

“Um… I…” Pausing briefly, I released a sigh and dropped my gaze away from her, “Well I was at a club for one of my teammate’s birthday and at the time, Hope and I weren’t really talking because of what we talked about in my last session.” She nodded in understanding, which I was grateful for because I did not wanna have to go into detail to make her remember that dreadful ass day.

“So we showed up separately and when I got there, I noticed that she was with my roommate… the one who I’d already gotten into a brief confrontation with about her. He was drunk, I could tell, but I guess she couldn’t. I sat back and watched them go out to the dance floor and she didn’t seem comfortable with him… at all. He was very touchy feely with her and she looked honestly uncomfortable, so before I could think to stop myself… I pounced on him.”

Slowly sitting back in her chair with her elbows lifted onto the armrests of her leather chair, she crossed her hands together beneath her chin and stared at me long and hard.

“You pounced on him?” She repeated softly. I only nodded and kept my head down because I was too embarrassed to look her in the eye as I confessed to what I’d done.

“The prescriptions I’d written for you… were you utilizing the medication at the time?”

“Yes…”

I glanced up at her and for the first time since I’d started my sessions with her, I saw a hint of shock on her face. I wasn’t sure why, but it’s as if she was surprised by what I’d said. She quickly regained her composure and within the blink of an eye her poised demeanor was right back in place.

“Well, I believe I owe you an explanation as to why I was already partially informed of this incident. I am in constant communication with your basketball coach, as you may already know, and I am required to provide him with reports of your progress throughout our sessions. Everything remains confidential and by law he is not permitted to have access to your file. However, I must provide him overall prognosis on your progression… and he has agreed to provide me with your progression there on the court, as that is indeed an environment that induces nearly all of your emotions.”

Well do you keep in contact with Hope and keep secret cameras in my room too… shit! I thought to myself.

“You may feel as though this is an intrusion on your life in some way, but I assure you Christopher… that is not the intention at all.” She said, speaking my thoughts right out loud which left me wondering if I’d just accidentally spoke what the hell I was supposed to be thinking.

“No, I understand… it’s for the best.” I muttered, sinking further into my seat. She remained quiet after that and eventually I glanced over at her to see that she was sitting there smiling at me.

“Now… back to your break. You mentioned that it was nice, but that it didn’t start out that way… at what point did it become enjoyable?”

“We talked… Hope and I. She tried to avoid me for a while, but Destani and her sister kinda set it up so that we were forced to talk.”

“Her sister? I was under the impression that she didn’t have any siblings.”

“Oh, um… well Tawny,” I said, noticing the immediate surprise and sudden delight on Dr. Yates face, “That was like the Thanksgiving surprise from her dad. Surprising them both while they were together. That didn’t actually start out too smoothly either, but I think Hope is kinda coming around to the concept of Tawny being her sister.”

“Very interesting,” She mumbled, of course scribbling away in her notebook at the same time, “Excuse me for interrupting… please continue where you left off.”

“Well we talked and just kinda came to an understanding. And after that, it just turned out really nice and I felt good pretty much the rest of the time I was there.”

“Have you had any incidents since you’ve been back?”

“No… I haven’t.” I said with a proud smirk. She nodded her head and jotted down one last note before easing her little book shut and pushing it off to the side of her desk. She slipped her glasses off her face and after placing them down on the desktop, she crossed her hands regally on the surface of the desk and smiled at me.

“You had a minor setback regarding what happened with your teammate and I must admit, I was a bit shocked when I learned of that incident. But unfortunately, that is the direct result of your love for Sy’Diyah, which is something that you cannot control. I am pleased with where you are now… and from what I can tell, your time spent together with family and friends was well worth it and very necessary.”

I nodded as she spoke because she was absolutely right… I really didn’t realize it til now, but my time spent with my family and friends was almost vital to me. I can personally say I treasured every moment of time spent at Hope’s dad’s house and I was almost relying on that one week of solace to help me hopefully avoid a blackout anytime soon. After a “job well done” from Dr. Yates, she bid me adieu and I was soon on my way out of her office in a better mood than I’d ever been after any appointment with her.

I marched out the building with my head held high and my swag on ten, feeling like a million bucks. I was on my way to Hope’s room and since she still had a couple of afternoon classes, I planned to spend a little time with her then take a nap in her room while she was in class until it was time for me to head to practice. This is exactly how I intended for things to be between us and it felt amazing knowing that I was finally on the right track to getting better for the sake of my relationship.

Fuck that relationship

I damn near tripped right over my own feet as that feeling washed over me. A dreadful feeling… that felt like it knocked the wind out of me and surged like a dynamite from my chest, through the rest of my body. No… this couldn’t be happening now. I was perfectly fine mere seconds ago and then… no! With a huff from my nose, I shook my head and blinked a few times then continued on toward my destination.

By the time I reached Hope’s dorm, I’d already almost blacked out three different times and my heart was racing with anticipation. I needed to get to her fast to avoid losing myself and I still had to get to the second floor. I was tempted to close my eyes and attempt to feel my way there, but with the lack of damn elevators in the building I would quickly bust my ass going up the stairs. So with a sigh, I tilted my head down and kept my eyes focused on the ground to avoid having to make eye contact with anyone along my route. I managed to make it to her floor unscathed and I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized I only had to cross half the hall before I reached her room.

But of course, with my luck… I glanced up at the last minute and watched in complete horror as a door literally two doors down from Hope’s opened and out stepped a glossy tan leg. It was toned to perfection and my dick twitched as my eyes danced up that thick leg and past the plump ass attached to it. My sights landed on this girls face as she faced the door and locked it... I realized she was a Latina with beautiful wavy black hair that cascaded over her shoulders and stopped just below her perky breasts. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to keep my gaze on her exotic looking profile, her immaculately toned stomach, or her perfectly glossy toned legs showcased nicely in her booty shorts. She looked like she was on her way to work out and just as she reached up to adjust her earphones in her ears, she raised her gaze and locked her eyes on me. 

We held a stare down for a few seconds until she finally cracked an adorable smile and visibly gawked at me from my face, down to my shoes, and back up again.

“Hi.” She greeted in even an adorable voice. Within the blink of an eye, it happened. Looking down at her body had nearly sent me over the edge but the moment she spoke and I blinked, it was over…

“How you doing beautiful?”

Her cheeks flushed almost immediately and she smiled all timidly… with her cute ass. I eased closer to her and leaned against the wall, smoothly dropping two fingers beneath her chin to lift her head so she could look at me. There was no need for her to act shy now… I’m sure she already knew the deal the moment we locked eyes. I was about to assist her with a nice, strenuous work out right here in her room which would surely save her a trip to the gym.

“I’m fine.” She mumbled as she stared longingly into my eyes. Her breath was beginning to hitch already and I hadn’t done more than touch her chin… my, my, my was I gonna have fun with her.

“Good, good. Were you… going somewhere?”

“I… I… I was going to go workout, but…”

“But I think we both know I can help you with that.” Smirking at her, I reached around to the back of her head to grab a handful of her hair and tugged, revealing her evenly tanned neck. Leaning forward, I latched my lips onto her neck and listened to the sound of her heavenly moan and just imagined how much louder she would be in just a matter of minutes.

“Unlock the door baby.” I demanded as I slithered my tongue around to her ear. Her body shuddered against me and I openly caressed her right breast right there in the hall while she fumbled with her keys. I was truly very horny, didn’t give a fuck, and had a point to prove. I don’t know what the fuck this nigga thought this was, but he clearly had shit all twisted if he thought I was just about to sit back and let him continue to walk around stuck all up in ole girl’s ass like that. That shit got real old, real quick and though I let him bask in his little moment with her for over a week during Thanksgiving, I was back now and with a fucking vengeance at that.

Little Latina was still struggling to get the door open and just to add fuel to her fire, I eased a hand along the front of her toned belly and slipped it down into the front of her tight ass spandex shorts. It wasn’t long before I found her treasure and I couldn’t help but chuckle at how wet she already was. Keeping my face tucked in the crook of her sweet smelling neck, I pushed myself off the wall and gently tugged the keys out her hand. On the first attempt I managed to slip the right key into the lock and once I twisted the knob and successfully allowed us entry, I walked her backwards right back into her room. I was done playing these games with bitch boy and ready to make my presence a bit more known. So from now on, it was my way, or the highway.

[artificialqueens]

The Parent Trap (Biadore) [Chapter 3] - Henny

A/N: Hello, Loves! I’m back at it again, writing at 3AM. Once again, your comments never fail to make me smile and inspire me to keep writing this. I’ve written multiple fandoms with the same plot but never seem to finish it. But because of y’all, I think this will be the first one ever. Also, to that lovely anon, I gotchu, Babe! Also, I decided to name the camp after my Theatre workshop in honour of rehearsals this month <3

P.S Just to clarify it. Roy doesn’t want to expose Nerissa to his past life, so Bianca Del Rio in this story is basically dead and forgotten (until she resurrected). Nerissa doesn’t know about drag culture BUT she’s not that clueless. Also, Portia calls them ‘Aunt’ if in Drag and ‘Uncle’ if out of drag.  

Enjoy!

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Nerissa bustled through the crowd, each scream and laughter seemed to get louder as she tried to find someone, the moderator of the camp in particular. She spotted a woman with dark hair on top of the platform with a megaphone pressed to her lips.

“WELCOME, CAMPERS! I’M SO GLAD TO SEE NEW AND FAMILIAR FACES WITH US THIS YEAR. PLEASE GET YOU–”

“Oops, I’m sorry!” A male voice gasped after he sent the smaller girl tumbling to the ground. Nerissa groaned as she stood up, brushing the dirt off of her jeans and denim jacket. She looked at the boy in front of her who smiled sheepishly. She sighed and shook her head with a smile. Be nice. Her dad’s voice was so loud in her head.

“It’s alright! Hello, I’m Nerissa Haylock.” She introduced herself, a hand stretched out formally. The guy’s shoulders relaxed as he reached out for her hand, returning her smile.

“Aaron Hernandez.” He replied. So far, so good, right? She thought.

“Nice to meet you. I’m kinda new here.” Nerissa shrugged, an unsure smile gracing her features.

“Oh! It’s your first time in Repertory? You’re going to have a blast! It’s my sister’s first time, too. So, we can all be together.” Aaron beamed as he pulled the girl beside him. The girl looked a lot like Aaron, with dark hair and light eyes, except his sister had large glasses to frame her face.

“Hey, I’m Alex.” She smiled shyly and ducked her head under her brother’s arms.

“Ugh, this is why you’ll never find your own friends.” Aaron groaned, prying his sister’s hands off of him. Alex pouted up at her brother and looked extremely offended, but decided not to fight back.

“Don’t listen to him, Alex. We’ll be the bestest friends!” Nerissa proclaimed, grabbing Alex’s arm. Alex smiled sweetly and pushed her glasses up her nose. Aaron dropped his jaw in mock offense but smiled nonetheless, glad his sister made a new friend. Nerissa bent down to grab her bags, but Aaron shook his head and offered to carry her bags.

“Are you sure?” Nerissa asked as Aaron lifted her bags in his arms.

“It’s no problem, really. I’m a strong man!” He said, flexing his free arm, causing the two girls to roll their eyes.

“Gay, though.” Alex remarked and Nerissa giggled, pushing back a stray her on her face. Aaron stuck out his tongue which his sister threw back at him.

“HEY! There’s no correlation between my strength and my sexuality. Just because I bat for the other team, doesn’t mean I can’t lift, BRAH.” He sassed, snapping his fingers in a zigzag motion and Alex rolled her eyes again.

“You play Football, not baseball. See? You don’t even know sports!” She teased. Nerissa laughed at the two siblings’ banter. It was nice knowing that she had new friends without them knowing who her dad was and what he did for a living and how much money he earns.

“ALRIGHT, CAMPERS! YOU HAVE A LONG DAY TOMORROW SO I HOPE YOU ALL MANAGED TO FIND YOUR CABINS AND GET SETTLED IN! DINNER WILL BE SERVED IN 30 MINUTES!”

“Ooh, shit… I still don’t know my cabin!” Nerissa whined. Alex pulled her towards the bulletin board and squealed when she saw Nerissa’s name above her brother’s name.

“Damn, you read fast.” Nerissa commented as she read her name on the piece of paper. “I’m in the Winds Cabin.” She said out loud. Alex and Aaron both leaped in joy and shook her excitedly.

“We’re in the same cabin! We’re in the same cabin!” They chanted as they dragged her off to their cabin.

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Portia was putting her stuff away with the help of Brian, the boy she had helped out earlier. Ironically, the three kids ended up being in the same cabin. Taffy situated herself on the top bunk with Portia in the bottom bunk. Brian decided to occupy the single bed beside theirs and everything worked out fine.

“Porshieeee, come on, let’s go!” Taffy whined as she slammed the screen door over and over again to get the other girl’s attention.

“First of all, ew, Porshie. Second, can you chill for a sec? I need to get my shit together.” Portia rolled her eyes as the girl plopped herself on Portia’s bed. She brought out a framed picture of the Adore, Bianca, and Courtney and placed it on top of dresser beside her.

“You’re SOO obsessed with Drag Queens.” Brian commented as he placed another framed photo of her six years old self with her Aunt Raja and Aunt Raven.

“Well, they’re kinda my family. So, it’s not an obsession, it’s love. Ohana.” Portia smiled fondly as she straightened the pictures on her dresser. One of her with Adore on stage, one with her Aunt Katya during Thanksgiving, one with her Uncle Aaron and Uncle Justin in Disneyland.

“Your dad is a drag queen?” Taffy asked, eyebrow raised, looking at the photos laid out in front of her. Portia’s heart started beating faster. This was it. They were going to judge her dad and her, stop being her friend, probably tell everyone about it and destroy her chances of actually making new friends.

“Yes.” She answered, not conveying the nervousness in her voice. Her defense mechanism, which is to read people to filth, started to prepare for the incoming slaughter of rude comments and homophobic slurs.

“Oh, that’s so cool! Which one is he?” Taffy squealed excitedly, crawling forward to have a better look

That, well, wasn’t the response she was expecting. At all. She smiled in relief before pointing out Adore in the picture with Bianca and Courtney.

“What the fuck?” Taffy exclaimed with a face Portia could only describe as sour. Her heart started to beat faster again.

“Why is she hotter than me? That’s so unfair!” Taffy complained as she stared at Adore in the picture. Portia loved that photo of her dad for many reasons. Not only because Bianca was there, but also that’s the happiest picture of Danny before Portia era. She has never seen her Dad with that kind of smile with anyone else rather than her.

“Did you just call my dad hot?” Portia asked with a fake disgusted face because she knows Adore is hot, there’s no denying that.

“Dude, that’s so wrong.” Brian wheezed, flailing his arms as he tried to regain his composure.

“Yeah, perv!” Portia added as Taffy laughed, her face pressed against the mattress. The three continued to laugh but piped down as a few more people joined in the cabin. Introductions and smiles were shared before everyone started to head out for dinner.

“Come on, guys. Let’s go eat!” Brian said as he slipped on his jacket, so did the girls, and they all walked to cafeteria.

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When Nerissa and her friends entered their cabin, they were greeted by their cabin mates who sweetly helped her fix her stuff and settle in.

“Thanks, guys. I can handle it from here.” Nerissa beamed as she motioned to a smaller bag. Her cabin mates all bid her a goodbye, except Alex and Aaron who decided to stay and wait for her. Nerissa brought out a couple of her sketchpads and art materials, and neatly placed them on the bedside table. She also brought out a picture of her and her dad when they went to London and a photo of just her dad.

“It’s kinda creepy to have a photo of your dad sleeping.” Aaron commented as he stared at the sleeping-Roy Haylock in the picture, hugging a dog.

“Well, if you see how stress he is everyday, you’ll be glad to see him finally resting. That’s why I took it in the first place.” Nerissa shrugged.

“What does he do?” Alex inquired. Nerissa didn’t like telling people what her Dad does for a living. Not because she was ashamed or anything, FAR from that. She didn’t like it because people always ask for favors and RH Designs is well known all over the world. Everyone knows how much RH dresses cost and it isn’t exactly very wallet-friendly.

“He makes dresses.” Yeah, that’s good. Vague, which is better.

“Wait. WAIT. You mean to tell me that your dad is Roy Haylock?” Alex gaped and so did Aaron. Not so subtle.

“Umm. Yeah.” She half-smiled with a shrug. Alex grabbed the frame and stared at the Roy’s face while Aaron just squealed louder.

“OH MY DADDY! HE’S SO HOT! Bye, Mrs. Haylock! I’m going to be your new mom, Riz! ” She screamed as she held the frame close to her heart. Nerissa laughed and pried the photo out of Alex’s arm, the difference ten minutes makes.

“You have no one to compete with, but good luck with winning my dad’s heart. He’s gay.” Nerissa laughed, placing the photo back in its place.

“WELL, IN THAT CASE, MOVE OVER SISTER! Come to Momma, Rizzy!” Aaron held out his arms to Nerissa who groaned and laughed at the same time.

“EWWWW! STOP MAKING IT WEIRD!” She whined but stepped into Aaron’s arms, still. Aaron hushed her and stroked her hair.

“Don’t worry, Rizzy. Momma’s here.” He whispers as he sways them a bit.

“GROSS!!! STOP!!!”” Nerissa started to hit Aaron’s arms playfully. Aaron laughed out loud and caught Nerissa’s hand to lessen the impact of her hands.

“Rizzy, that’s no way to treat your new mom!” He scolded despite him trying to regain his breathing.

“Guys, you promise not to tell though? I don’t want anyone to treat me as some rich kid.” Nerissa said, suddenly serious.

“We promise.” The two said, holding out their pinkies. Nerissa double pinky-swore and the three of them crossed their hearts.

“I think that’s our calling.” Nerissa spoke after Alex’s stomach grumbled loudly. “Come on, Mom. Let’s go eat.” She continue, pulling Aaron and Alex towards the cafeteria.

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Portia grabbed a tray and started to wait in line. The food looked appetizing, at least. She grabbed a plate of Mac and Cheese along with a slice of Hawaiian pizza. She also grabbed a juice box and a slice of mango from the plate.

“Porsche, smell this. How is this edible?” Brian brought up a small plastic bowl filled with what seems like firm gelatin. She sniffed the substance and her nostrils were filled with the scent of cherries.

“It smells good!” She exclaimed, grabbing the plastic bowl from Brian and placed it on her tray.

“You’re disgusting. It smells like that bathroom cleaner.” He shudders at the thought of the smell. Portia rolled her eyes playfully.

“Oh, please. You’d drink that.” She snorted and Brian muttered a quick “True” before giggling to himself.

“Oh, I’m sorry, dear. I just got to have a scoop of these strawberries, freshly picked from our gardens. Would you like some?” An elderly woman, who she assumed is the head of everything, offered Portia a cup of strawberries.

“I would love some, but I’m allergic.” She answered before rushing to leave, not wanting to continue the conversation. She settled herself beside Taffy who looked at her tray in disgust.

“Pineapple on Pizza? You’re gross.”

“Pizza is pizza, Hoe. Shut up!” She stuck her tongue out before taking a big obvious bite of her pizza.

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Nerissa laughed as Aaron kept putting stuff on her tray.

“Motherhood suits you.” She commented, amused but, when he reached for the pizza, she stopped him.

“There’s no way, you’re going to feed that to me. Not today, Satan. Not today. Not ever.” She said with an eyebrow raised, she stepped forward hoping to get a piece of mango from the plate.

“–Allergic, well that’s too bad, dear. How about you? Would you like some?” It took Nerissa a few minutes to realize that the older woman was now talking to her. She smiled sweetly before reaching out to accept the bowl the woman offered.

“Thank you, Ma’am.” The lady pulled her hand back which caused Nerissa to take a step back in shock.

“Didn’t you just say you were allergic?” The older woman asked skeptically, looking intensely into Nerissa’s eyes.

“Um… No?” She answered, sounding unsure herself. She accepted the bowl again and rushed off to where Alex was to tell her what just happened.

“Oh, well, alright. Here you go. You gotta excuse the old ga– Now where did she go?”

“Who?” Aaron piped up, looking at the woman who jumped in her place. She looked at him in horror before leaving the spot.

“Well, that was rude.” Aaron pouted as he got some strawberries.

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Morning were filled with various activities and Portia had to take a few breathers to actually finish all of her activities. After lunch, there was an impromptu talent competition. She swaggered to the counselor and asked if she could partake in the activity. The counselor, Margaret was all too happy to put her name down. She hopped to stage and watched as people gathered around her. She has always loved performing, something she shares with her dad.

“Hello, everyone! My name is Portia and I’ll be rapping: Super Bass by Nicki Minaj.” Everyone cheered her on. She felt her heart swell with love as she felt all of the support from the people around her.

“This one is for the boys with the booming system Top down, AC with the cooling system When he come up in the club, he be blazin’ up Got stacks on deck like he savin’ up

And he ill, he real, he might gotta deal He pop bottles and he got the right kind of bill He cold, he dope, he might sell —-. He always in the air, but he never fly coach He a mother—– trip, trip, sailor of the ship, ship When he make it drip, drip kiss him on the lip, lip That’s the kind of dude I was lookin’ for And yes you’ll get slapped if you’re lookin’ —-.

I said, excuse me, you’re a hell of a guy I mean my, my, my, my you’re like pelican fly I mean, you’re so shy and I’m loving your tie You’re like slicker than the guy with the thing on his eye, oh Yes I did, yes I did, somebody please tell him who the F I is I am Nicki Minaj, I mack them dudes up, back coupes up, and chuck the deuce up

Boy, you got my heartbeat runnin’ away Beating like a drum and it’s coming your way Can’t you hear that boom, badoom, boom, boom, badoom, boom, bass? You got that super bass Boom, badoom, boom, boom, badoom, boom, bass Yeah, that’s the super bass You got that super bass Boom, badoom, boom, boom, badoom, boom, bass He got that super bass Boom, badoom, boom, boom, badoom, boom, bass He got that super bass—-”

When she finished the song, everyone went crazy and screamed so loud. She took a bow and took in the applause from the people around her. After a few minutes, Margaret steps on stage and announces that the judges were about to deliberate and there was only five minutes left to join. She knew she got this in the bag, her cheers were deafening. No one could possibly be courageous enough to perform last minute.

“Ooh! HER! HER! She wants to perform!” Voices from the back exclaimed.

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Nerissa just ended her props making activity which was to make masks for the Masquerade scene in Phantom of the Opera. It was rather silly, but she really loved the mask she made which was the mask dipped in gold glitter. Her squad decided to feel their Phantom fantasy and wore it around the whole day.

“–There is only five minutes left. If you still want to perform, you better do it now.” She heard the counselor announce.

“What’s this for?” She asked and tried to peer over the large amount of people.

“Oh, it’s for the Talent competition. You should try it out!” Aaron urged and soon she was in the middle of Hurricane Hernandez.

“Ooh! HER! HER! She wants to perform!” Everyone faced the trio in the back and cheered. Nerissa smiled sheepishly and muttered a “thanks a lot” to the two. She was guided to stage and she took the mic that the lady offered. She wasn’t fond of performing for a large amount of crowd. Usually, it was just for her Dad and Uncle Shane.

“Um, Hi. I’m going to sing I Dreamed a Dream from Les Mis.” The music started and everyone went quiet at the serenity of the song. Was that a good thing?

“I dreamed a dream in time gone by When hope was high and life worth living I dreamed that love would never die I dreamed that God would be forgiving

Then I was young and unafraid And dreams were made and used and wasted There was no ransom to be paid No song unsung, no wine untasted

But the tigers come at night With their voices soft as thunder As they tear your hope apart As they turn your dream to shame”

She sang the crescendo, landing each and every note perfectly.

“He slept a summer by my side He filled my days with endless wonder He took my childhood in his stride But he was gone when autumn came”

And still I dream he’ll come to me That we will live the years together But there are dreams that cannot be And there are storms we cannot weather I had a dream my life would be So different from this hell I’m living So different now from what it seemed Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.”

For a minute, no one uttered a single sound. Nerissa felt so embarrassed and her cheeks started to turn pink. But, before she could burst out crying and run away, a massive uproar of cheers, whistles and hoots rang in her ears.  

“Woah, okay. That was quite a show! In a few minutes, the judges will announce the winner. So, may I please call on all of the participants to step on the stage while waiting.”

A few girls and boys stepped on the stage, but Nerissa was still jumpy after her performance so she didn’t notice them standing beside her.

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When Margaret returned, index card in hand. Portia started to shake a bit in nervousness. The girl before her was good, but not that good. So, she still probably has this in the bag. Probably.

She didn’t bother listening to the results that didn’t matter.

“In second place, we have… Portia!” She couldn’t believe what she heard. Second? You have got to be kidding me! She smiled tightly as she received the little trophy.

“And our grand winner is Nerissa!” The crowd cheered as Nerissa smiled shyly as she accepted the bigger trophy. It wasn’t fair!

“Come on now kids, congratulate each other. Shake hands.” Margaret encouraged. Nerissa reached out to congratulate all of the participants, so did Portia, except when Nerissa approached her, Portia crossed her arms.

“I would prefer to see the person behind the mask.” There was a hidden meaning to it, but Nerissa didn’t push further. She bent down to reach the ribbon that held her mask in place. When she took it off, everyone gasped.

Green eyes reflected green eyes. Nerissa wanted to faint and Portia wanted to run away. This isn’t real. Portia said to herself.

“Come on, girls. Shake hands.” Margaret urged, shock still very evident in her voice. She hushed a few of the people in the crowd who kept muttering “they look alike.”

Portia reached out a hand to Nerissa who accepted it. When their fingers touch, it felt like there was some kind of energy there. Static, that’s normal. Nerissa noted. She stared at the girl, still can’t put her mind around it.

“Why is everyone staring? Can you all please like leave? It’s really uncomfortable” Portia asked nervously, looking around at all of the blank faces. They slowly started to dissipate and soon it was just the two girls and their respective friends.

“Can’t you see it?” Nerissa asked in disbelief. Portia’s defenses started to build up again, she crossed her arms.

“See what?”

“The resemblance between us.” Nerissa answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world– it was.

“Resemblance? Between you and me?” Portia laughed humorlessly which confused Nerissa a lot.

“Hmm, okay. Let me see, turn sideways” Portia instructed. Rolling her eyes, Nerissa humored the girl.

“Now, the other way.” Portia said seriously, really taking her time to analyze Nerissa. Reading time, this is going to be fun; Portia smirked.

“Well, your eyes are so much farther than mine. Your ears are, well, hello, Dumbo!” Portia laughed as Nerissa consciously touched her ears.

“Also, invest in some braces, if you can afford it. Your nose, too. If you can afford it.” The girl continued. Alex and Aaron appeared behind Nerissa.

“Want me to deck her for ya?” Alex threatened with her fists raised.

“Shut up, Oompa Loompa. I’m not quite finished yet. You want to know the real difference between us?” Portia raised a finger to shut Alex up which made Nerissa really pissed off.

“Let me see…” Nerissa looked thoughtful for a moment, mocking Portia’s words earlier.

“I have talent and you don’t? OR I have class and you don’t? Take your pick.” Nerissa raised a perfectly arched brow and smirked. Portia’s eyes narrowed as she took a deadly step towards Nerissa.

“My dad’s from Azusa, I will stab a bitch.” She looked straight into Nerissa’s eyes who only stared back at her.

“Need help packing? Beat it, Queen!”

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A/N: This was super fun to write. 3k+ words. Wew. I’m in shock. See what happens when y'all made me happy?

I know some dialogues sound forced but it was nice. Admit it. P.S Is anyone else completely in love with Aaron because I am!

Previous Chapters! Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two

[clary-jace]

sign of the times (a riley matthews fic)

But she swallows the tightness in her throat, forces a small smile on her face and hangs up the graduation picture of her and her friends above her desk. Her heart tugs as she thinks of them all, scattered across the country. All off to find their own destinies. Her fingers ghost over her ribcage, the galaxy etched into her skin burning at the thought of them all. The pride that she often feels when she thinks of her friends comes crashing onto her like an ocean wave.

She ignores the bitter feeling of loneliness that follows it only moments later.

Chapter: 2 (Girl Meets The Winter Chill)  Previous Chapters: 1  Ships: Riley/Lucas (main romantic pairing), platonic Riley/Clique Six, Riley/Charlie, Riley/Dave & Riley/Asher  Word Count: 8,000+ 

Notes: Firstly, I apologize that this took two weeks to update, I had a lot of work to do and then was suffering some writers block, but hopefully the wait was worth it and you enjoy this chapter! As always, thank you to @friarlucas for being my biggest cheerleader and practically bullying me through writing this and also making sure to ensure me that it doesn’t suck. Please let me know what you think and hopefully chapter 3 will come much faster! 

Christmas had always been Riley’s favorite holiday, by far.

The decorations, the music, the food, just everything about it had always been something she looked forward to year after year. This holiday season was no exception. Despite all the weird feelings that were still lingering since her last trip home, nothing could dwindle the excitement that she was feeling.

Her excitement had only been heightened this year when the morning after her return home, her mom and dad had told her that they were leaving decorating completely up to her this year. Riley supposed that they felt bad about still being at work and Auggie still being in school for about another two weeks before they would be able to join in on the festivities, so they wanted to give her something to keep her busy. She certainly wasn’t going to complain.

“Are you sure that you’ll be able to fit a tree this big into your living room? I’ve been in that living room more times than I can count and I don’t know if it’s big enough to fit a tree this size.” Lucas skeptically asked her, the Friday after her return home, as they stood in the local Christmas tree lot. Riley was examining a rather large tree, with a lot of branches that was probably a good head taller than Lucas was. Truthfully, Lucas was probably right, but Riley wanted these decorations to be perfect, and the perfect tree was the most important part.

“It’ll be fine. I think.” She replied, bending down and testing the sturdiness of the lower branches. The Matthews family had acquired quite a bit of ornaments over the years, and Riley wanted to make sure that all of them would be able to be displayed this year.

“You’re not the least bit worried about getting it up the elevator and into your apartment?” Lucas was still skeptical and he had his eyebrow raised at her as she stood up again and moved next to him. She merely shook her head, this tree was perfect. Everything had been a mess and hadn’t gone the way she had wanted this past semester, she wasn’t going to let that happen with Christmas.

“Nope. Besides, I have my big, strong, athletic boyfriend to help me, don’t I?” With a smirk, she leaned her chin onto his shoulder, batting her eyelashes. Lucas playfully groaned, shaking his head at her. “That’s what I thought.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll help, but we’re going be doing this my way. The last thing we need is for you to try and commandeer this and end up hurting yourself in the process.” Lucas said, gesturing for her to lead the way to the front of the lot so they could pay for the tree.

“Ugh, alright. I suppose you to have a point.”

“Yep, I sure do.”

Luckily, with Lucas at the helm of their efforts, they managed to eventually get the large tree up and standing in the Matthews family living room. The couch had to moved forward a couple inches and most of the fireplace was completely out of view, but the tree made the perfect centerpiece of Riley’s Christmas decoration plans and she couldn’t wait to really get started.

“So, anything else you need my help with?” Lucas asked once they were finished, taking a seat on the couch. Riley smiled at him from her spot by the tree, easily moving to the couch and falling down beside him. Immediately his arm moved around her shoulder, and she inched in closer to him, resting her head on his chest. It was the most at peace she had felt in weeks.

“Not right now, but be on call for the next couple of weeks, you never know when I might have a Christmas decoration emergency.” She joked, grinning when she heard Lucas’ light laughter. Riley couldn’t help the small bundle of butterflies in her stomach as she felt Lucas’ fingers begin to play with the ends of her hair.

It was strange, Riley didn’t realize how much she had truly missed Lucas until they were together once more. It was different now than it was at Thanksgiving, being in her apartment with him again, really felt like she was back home. It was a feeling that had been missing for a while now, and she was grateful that she finally had managed to capture it again. Unfortunately, she knew that it probably wasn’t going to last.

“I think I can do that.” He whispered against her hair and she smiled, somewhat sadly now. She wasn’t exactly sure what it was that now made her heart clench in her chest and weird tears prick in the corners of her eyes. But now, all she wanted was to sleep. All the excitement of Christmas and the holidays and being with Lucas were slowly slipping away from her and dreamland was now the only place that she wanted to visit.

So, with a small hum of a response to Lucas, she felt her eyes begin to close and within minutes, Lucas’ heartbeat was only a faint echo in the back of her mind.

…

Going shopping with Maya and Farkle had been something Riley had been looking forward to since the minute they had made plans to do it. It had been far too long since the three of them had done something together and she missed spending time with two of her favorite people on the planet.

Her and Maya had spent time together already, she had slept over on her second night back in the city and the two of them and Lucas had gotten pizza with Asher on his last night before going back to Texas, but she had yet to spend any time with Farkle. He had gotten back to New York a couple days after everyone else, and so far had spent most of his time with his family or Isadora. So, needless to say, Riley was very excited to finally get to catch up with him.

“Mom! I’m leaving to spend time with Maya and Farkle, I’ll be back later.” Throwing her coat on, Riley waited a second for her mom to reply, her heart pounding in her chest as the seconds ticked on. It was Sunday and she knew that her mom was at home, unless she had decided to go last minute with her dad and Auggie to Rockefeller center. After a couple minutes of awkwardly standing by the door without any response, Riley figured her mom must have just forgotten to tell her. Not the first time it had happened, nothing she could do about it.

With a small sigh, Riley exited her apartment, determined to not let this deter her excitement for the day to come. She had about ten minutes until she was supposed to meet Maya and Farkle at her mom’s cafe and she was determined to be there early so she could hug Farkle Minkus as soon as she saw him.

As she quickly rushed down the street, humming to herself as she did so, she was interrupted by a dinging coming from her back pocket and when she saw the name on the text, she smiled.

Lucas Friar ♥: Have fun with Maya and Farkle today. I’ll probably come over to your place when you’re done. See you later.

Her and Lucas hadn’t really talked much about anything about last semester really since he had gotten back, aside from their more surface level conversations, but it certainly wasn’t from his lack of trying. She just, didn't want to talk about anything that had happened last semester, bound and determined to lock it away and never have to face it ever again. It was one semester, one bad semester out of seven potentially amazing ones, and she figured that dwelling on it, would only psyche her out for the semesters to come.

She knew that there was a chance that Lucas would try and talk to her about it when he came over later. But she had become an expert at switching the conversation, not wanting to talk about her own petty problems that she could certainly handle all on her own. Not when there were a million other things that they could talk about.

Sighing, she pushed all those thoughts from her mind, quickly texting Lucas back that she couldn’t wait and that she would see him later. She was just shoving her phone back into her pocket when she pushed open the door of her mom’s cafe, surprised when Maya and Farkle were both already there, laughing about something or other on the couch, not noticing her at first.

“Farkle Minkus!” Riley exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement as she approached them. Farkle looked slightly startled at first, but a smile quickly found itself on his face as he saw who was shouting his name.

“Riley Matthews.” He replied, much quieter, and Riley noticed with considerably less excitement, at least that’s what it felt like, but she smiled none the less. Riley also flashed a smile at Maya, who was laughing softly to herself.

“I missed you, Farkle.” Riley said when Farkle was in front of her and he merely laughed, wrapping his arms around her, giving her a hug.

“And I missed you.” He said when he pulled away from her, giving her shoulder a squeeze before taking a step back. “Well, if you both are ready, I think we can get this adventure started.”

“I would hardly call shopping for Christmas presents an adventure.” Maya said, rolling her eyes slightly as she stood from the couch, grabbing all of her stuff and handing Farkle his coat.

“Trust me, anything with you two is an adventure. I’m fully prepared to be a third wheel all day.” Riley giggled lightly, shaking her head. Although, judging by the look on Farkle’s face, he wasn’t kidding.

“Riles and I are already all caught up, we’ve already spent hours together since my triumph return, so I think both of us are fully prepared to give our favorite little genius our undivided attention.” Farkle groaned, ducking out of the way as Maya attempted to lightly slap his cheek.

“Ugh, no. That’s even worse.”

They were silent for a few moments as they exited her mom’s cafe, slowly making their way down the street. Riley had no idea where exactly they were going, but she would go anywhere with these two, so she wasn’t too worried.

“Farkle, do you really feel like a third wheel when you’re with me and Maya?” Riley asked, nudging Farkle with her shoulder, giggling when her and Maya made eye contact over Farkle’s shoulder.

“How does one not feel like a third wheel around you too, you’re worse then any couple I’ve ever met. I don’t know how Lucas does it all the time.”

“Well Riley loves Lucas more than she likes you, so she makes more of an effort to include him in conversation.” Maya teased. Riley opened her mouth, about to say something, but Farkle continued on.

“Riley loves Lucas more than she likes most people.” Farkle pointed out, flashing Riley a smirk. Riley merely rolling her eyes, trying to think of something to say in return, but Maya switched the conversation topic before she had a chance to.

“So, I have absolutely no idea what to get my mom, so I’m going to need a lot of help.” Riley giggled. Maya always struggled with what to get her mom as a present and every year ended up getting her something perfect.

“I’m sure that you’ll end up finding something perfect, you always do.” Farkle said with an easy smile, and Riley forced out one of her own. They continued on their journey, stopping at a few windows, Farkle and Maya both making comments as they did so. The two of them seemed to fall into an easy conversation with each other, and Riley was struggling to find places say something.

By the third store that they had entered, Riley was started to get frustrated. Maya and Farkle were both acknowledging her and she had managed to say a couple of things here and there, but overall, she felt like she was hardly a part of the conversation. She could easily be lifted out and her two best friends could continue on without her. It stung her more than it should have, she should have been happy that they were having such a good time.

But instead she was just thinking about how they would be having way more fun without her.

…

Christmas came and went without much of an occasion. Riley’s decorations ended up beautifully and she got compliments from her parents and her grandparents on a job well done, but not much else was said on that topic.

The holiday itself was spent at her house and Riley spent most of the evening talking to Auggie. Josh was being grilled by her dad and Uncle Eric about this new job that he had just acquired and her mom was talking to her grandparents, which left Riley to hang out with her brother. Not that she minded of course, in fact she was kind of grateful for it. Auggie was probably the only one in the family who wouldn’t grill Riley about her first semester in college, which was honestly the last thing she wanted to talk about.

By the time dinner rolled around, everyone else had so many things to say, no one said a word to Riley until desert was being served.

“So Riley, I assume that your first semester went well and you’re already dying to go back to school.” Her grandmother said with a smile from across the table. Riley swallowed the sip of water that she had just taken, giving a small, forced smile in return.

“Yeah. I can’t wait.” She said simply, nodding, desperate for that to be the end of that. Her grandmother seemed to accept that answer and nothing more was said on the subject, but Riley caught the eye of Josh across the table, who was looking at her strangely. He seemed to have a look on his face that hinting that he didn’t believe her, but she merely smiled at him.

“What about you Auggie? How are you enjoying the sixth grade?” Riley’s grandmother turned slightly to address the youngest member of the Matthews family.

“I love it! Way better than fifth grade, definitely better than forth grade, probably the best grade that I’ve been in so far.” Auggie smiled, taking a bite of his pie. That response seemed to be please Amy Matthews far more than Riley’s response had.

Riley suddenly wished that Lucas was here.

His mom had planned this whole thing for them to do for Christmas and Riley was happy that him and his mom were in a good place and that they were spending time together. She just wished that he was with her right now.

Because maybe if he was there, she wouldn’t feel nearly as alone.

…

Christmas night, she’s sitting on her bed, flipping through one of the books that her brother gave her when Lucas pops in through her window. He’s got an easy smile on his face and she shivers at the cold that comes in through the open window.

“Sorry.” He whispers as he notices her shiver, coming over to the bed and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“It’s okay, small price to pay.” She says, turning her head so she can press a kiss to his lips. “What are you doing here?”

“I didn’t think it would be much of a Christmas if I didn’t get to see you, besides I don’t sleep nearly as well at my house as I do here.” He said with a small shrug, looking around her bedroom with his words before looking back at her, a smile on his features.

“I’m honored.” He laughed softly, kissing her again, pulling away from her before she could deepen the kiss and distract him from asking her about how her day was. It wasn’t necessarily a bad Christmas, it just wasn’t nearly as noteworthy as she had hoped it would be.

“How was your day?” He asked, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her against his side. She sighed slightly, wanting to keep it short and simple, but also fully aware that Lucas was always able to see right through her, even if he didn’t voice that.

“It was good, I spent most of the day with Auggie.” She shrugged, nudging her nose against his shoulder. It wasn’t a lie, that was how she had spent most of her day, but she omitted that the reason she did that, was so she could avoid having to talk about how everything else in her life was going. “What about you, how was you day with your mom?”

“It was good, I kind of wish I had been here though.” Lucas said softly, his hand finding it’s way into her hair. “I had a good time though.”

“That’s good. I’m glad you and your mom are in such a good place with each other.” Riley said honestly. She knew that Lucas’ relationship with his parents had always been shaky ground, so it made her happy to know that at least one of his parent relationships was in a building stage rather than completely non existent. “But I wish you had been here too, my grandparents asked if you were coming and were definitely disappointed when I said no. I think they like you more than they like me.”

“That’s not true, I don’t know why anyone would choose to like me more than you, even I don’t like myself more than I like you.”

“Oh shhh.” She chastised, nudging her elbow into his side. She knew that he was joking, but there was a time when he really meant those words and she was bound and determined to make sure that he never actually felt like that again.

“I’m just saying that you’re very likable. Anyone who doesn’t meet you and love you immediately is probably crazy.”

“Well, you should tell that to every single person who attends New York University.” She muttered to herself, immediately biting her lip and cursing to herself when she realized that she had said those words out loud and that Lucas had probably heard her.

“What do you mean?” Lucas asked, concern and confusion clearly laced within his voice. He moved their bodies slightly so he could look at her, and she avoided eye contact as much as possible.

“Nothing. Just that no one has professed their undying love for me since I started school. So I must be doing something wrong.” Riley replied, a forced smirk falling upon her face. “I’m really tired, are you tired?”

“Um, yeah I guess.” Lucas said, becoming even more confused when she suddenly stood up and began to move around her room and start to get ready to go to sleep. While Riley seemed to always be tired these days and could probably sleep at any moment of the day, in any place, she was mainly using this as a distraction. She just hoped that Lucas wouldn’t be able to see through it.

She hated herself for slipping up like that. Lucas had better things to worry about then her not having any friends at NYU and honestly, she was probably making a much bigger deal over this whole thing than she needed to be. She supposed there was a reason she had always been called overdramatic.

“You’re gonna stay here tonight, right?” Riley asked, turning around to look at him again, one of his t shirts in her hand that she was planning to wear to sleep that night. Lucas was looking at her with a certain gleam in his eye that she couldn’t exactly translate, but she had a feeling that he could tell there was something going on, but she didn’t think he would say anything to her about it.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” He said softly, keeping his eye on her as she continued to move around her room. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, getting up from her bed and coming to stand next to her.

“I’m fine. Really. I was just trying to make a joke and it came out more serious then I meant for it to. Honest.” She said.

Deciding that she didn’t want to risk talking about it anymore, she smirked as she figured out the perfect way to make sure that her meaningless issues were the last thing on Lucas’ mind.

“Lucas.”

“Hm, yeah.” His eyes immediately found hers, and she smiled when her heart pounded in her chest under his gaze.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Lucas looked confused again, she had always thought his confused face was the cutest thing she had ever seen, and now was no exception. But this time, his confusion was mixed with just the perfect amount of amusement and she knew that she had successfully distracted him.

Before he could once again as her if she was ok or ask what was going on, she pressed her lips against his. Immediately his hands went to her waist and she smiled against his lips. Threading her fingers through his hair, she had absolutely no doubt that they wouldn’t be doing much more talking tonight.

And these days, the less talking, the better.

…

The days between Christmas and New Years are long, and dull and Riley spends most of them holed up in her room. She tells her parents that she’s just catching up on sleep after the holidays, but in reality, she just finds it exhausting to be around anyone that isn’t Lucas, and on occasion Maya.

It upsets her that she finds being around her best friend so tiring these days, and she knows that it’s all because of her, not Maya. Her best friend had blossomed so much in the last five months that Riley feels like a blade of grass next to Maya’s growing sunflower. Not the first time, she feels like her and Maya are running on completely different tracks, and that she’s five hundred steps behind.

Her other friends are similar cases. She feels pride towards them, as she always does. Nothing brings her more joy than her friends succeeding, but listening to them all talk about their triumph adventures in college, just makes her think about how her own experience pales in comparison. The big reason she’s avoiding them is because she doesn’t want to bring them down with her negativity.

“Are you excited to see all your friends tomorrow?” Her mom asks the day before New Years, when Riley enters the kitchen for dinner. “It’s been a while since you guys all hung out together, I think your road trip was probably the last time you were all in the same place, right?”

Riley smiled fondly at the memory of their end of the summer road trip. She wished she could time travel back and relive that trip over and over again. “Yeah, I’ve missed them.” She said, taking a seat at the table.

“Your father and Auggie are still on their way back from Philadelphia, so it’s just going to be us tonight.” Her mom said with a grin, placing a plate of lasagna on the table in front of her. “I wanted to talk to you about something, actually.”

“Yeah?” Riley felt her palms begin to sweat and she folding her hands between her legs.

“How is Maya doing? She was here the other day and she left before I had the chance to talk to her.” Riley sighed softly, that stung a little more than she expected it too. “I just figured that you and her have talked about how her semester went.”

“Oh, she’s good. She had a really good semester.” She smiled, pushing her lasagna around on her plate, the small apatite that she had had just a moment ago was gone now. Replaced with a hole deep in the pit of her stomach that was becoming more and more frequent.

“That’s good. What about the rest of your friends, the only person I’ve really had a chance to talk to is Lucas. Are Farkle, Zay and Smackle all doing well too?”

“Yeah, they’re all doing great. They’ve all really taken off in college, I don’t think any of them have ever been happier.” She forced a small smile, wishing that the same was true about herself.

“Good, all you kids went through so much in high school, you all deserve to have good college experiences.” Her mom smiled at her across the table and Riley could see the warmth in her mother’s eyes. “Give all of them my love tomorrow.”

“Of course.” She whispered, looking down at her plate, taking a deep breath. “You know what, I’m not really that hungry, I had a really big lunch. I think I’m just going to take a shower and go to bed.”

Before her mom could say anything, Riley stood from the table, placing her plate by the sink and walking from the room. Once she had closed the door to the bathroom, she pushed her back against the wood, feeling the tears pooling in her eyes.

“God.” She muttered to herself, pushing the tears away from her cheeks before they could fall any further. “You’re being so stupid, stop crying.”

She hated how easy it was for her to cry these days, nothing that was happening to her was worthy of tears. She was just being oversensitive, most likely, that’s how she always had been. Most of her friends had always said that she cried easy, and they certainly weren’t wrong, she just wished that she could make it stop.

Shaking her head sharply, she wiped away any remaining tears on her face. She just needed to take a shower, put on some fresh pajamas (aka one of Lucas’ old t shirts and sweatpants) and crawl into bed and she would be good as new.

Turning to water to the hottest setting, she got under the spray, ignoring the burning sensation on her skin. The only thing she was able to focus on was the water hitting her face and the way her hot tears mixed with the spray, making it feel like she had never even been crying in the first place.

Which was good, because the last thing she needed right now, was anyone know about how truly weak she really was.

…

The last time Riley had been dreading New Year’s this much was back in eighth grade. Now, she would give anything to go back to that night instead of live through this one. She knew that she sounded dramatic, that seemed to be all that she was good for these days, but the sinking feeling of dread that had been settling in her stomach all day seemed to be a good indicator that this was about to be the worst New Year’s Eve she had ever had.

In high school, New Year’s had always been a fun holiday that she spent with her friends, usually they would hang out on the roof of her apartment building and talk about all the crazy stuff that had happened to them during the school year and how they hoped the year would finish out. She assumed that this year would be similar, except she had no fun stories to tell and honestly, at this point she would be lucky if she finished freshman year in one piece.

She just didn’t know if she was quite ready to feel like a stranger around her five favorite people in the entire world.

She was standing in front of her mirror, putting the finishing touches on her outfit when a familiar figure appeared through her window. She smiled, feeling relaxed for the first time that day.

“Hey.” Lucas said softly, coming to stand behind her, pressing a kiss to the back of her head. Looking at the reflection of the two of them in the mirror, she grinned, sighing.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” She smirked, resisting the urge to giggle at their familiar interaction. “You look pretty.” His voice was soft and sincere and she could feel a familiar blush creep up onto her cheeks. Her and Lucas had been together for years at this point, and he had complimented her more times than she could count, but it still made her heart flutter.

“Thank you, you look pretty handsome yourself.” She said, turning around to face him, mainly so she could pretty a kiss against his lips, but also so she could wrap her arms around his neck and look him in the eye. “Although are you completely reinvented yourself for the new year?”

“What are you talking about?” His eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, looking at himself in the mirror over her shoulder.

“You are not wearing one drop of blue on your entire body, I don’t even know who you are right now.” She feigned surprised, gasping softly to herself and removing her arms from his body and taking a step back. He laughed lightly, dropping his head down and shaking it slightly.

“It’s not that big of a deal.” He rolled his eyes slightly, biting down on his bottom lip as he eyed her. She was only teasing him of course, the red shirt and dark khakis that he had on were definitely something she was not going to complain about, but it was fun to poke fun at him.

“It is totally a big deal, blue has been there for you for as long as you can remember. If you’re so willing to abandon it on the most important day of the year then what’s next? Me?” Her relationship with Lucas was probably the area of her life that Riley was most comfortable with at this current moment in time and her words were meant to be completely joking. But, there was still a slight edge of hesitation in her voice as the words left her mouth.

“Never.” Lucas replied immediately, taking a step towards her and wrapping his arms around her waist. She smiled, pressing her forward against his shoulder. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, I suppose so.” She reluctantly leaned away from him, her stomach falling slightly. Now that he was here, she wished that her evening was going to spent curled up with him, watching some cheesy movie. That sounded a million times more enjoyable to her right now.

Lucas instantly reached out for her hand, following her as she went over to her desk and grabbed her coat and purse. Flashing him a small smile, she nodded, allowing him to lightly tug her behind him as he led them out the window and into the cold December night.

…

Overall, she would say that she was only partially right about how her evening was going to go.

Five minutes before midnight and she was curled up on the couch in Farkle’s living room, Maya sitting next to her on the arm and Lucas on her other side, his arm tucked around her. Smackle and Farkle were on the adjacent love seat and Zay had taken residence on the floor, occasionally nudging his head against Lucas’ leg.

She smiled softly as she looked around the room at her little galaxy of people. There had definitely been times throughout the evening when things got awkward or weird, but in the end, this night only proved to her that these five people were still the center of her world and the only people that really mattered to her. There was a slight sting on her heart when they would all talk about their lives now, it was crazy how much could change for them in only five months, but there was also an overwhelming since of pride that overcame her.

All she wanted for these people in this life was to be happy, and find the thing that allows them to do so. And luckily, it seemed like they all were doing that.

“This next year is going to be the best one yet, I can feel it.” Maya said from next to her, leaning her chin on the top of Riley’s head. Riley smiled affectionately at her, all the weird bitterness she had felt towards her best friend earlier in the week washing away like an ocean tide.

“You think?” Lucas asked from next to her, sounding genuinely curious.

“Yeah, I think we’re all finally where we need to be.” Riley could practically hear the smile on Maya’s face as she looked around at her friends. “I mean, I’m absolutely killing it at Cal Arts, they really didn’t know what was hitting them when I showed up. Zay is dancing up a storm in North Carolina, Smackle and Farkle are out there being smarter than everyone and Lucas is well on his way to saving every single horse in Texas, aren’t you buddy?”

“Yeah, that’s one way to put it I guess.” Riley giggled, shaking her head slightly as she made eye contact with Lucas.

“Hey! What about me?”

“You, my little plant, are holding down the fort here in New York and being the best Riley that you could ever be.” Maya said, her lips pressing into the crown of Riley’s head. Riley smiled softly, not sure how to take her best friend’s words. She knew Maya was complimenting her, but for some reason, the words still hit her heart weirdly. However, she pushed all that weirdness away and decided to just bask in the moment.

“Maya’s right, guys. This is our time to shine, I think Riley’s dad would be really proud of us right about now.” Zay said, locking eyes with Riley, she nodded, understanding exactly what Zay was talking about. “We’re all killing the game, for real.”

There were mummers and mutters of agreement around the room, before everyone settled back down for the countdown to midnight. Through it all, Riley found herself locking eyes across the room with Farkle, who was smiling in a way that didn’t quite reach his eyes and he didn’t look nearly as engaged as everyone else.

She knew that he had said earlier that he was tired, up late the night before getting a head start on all his reading for the next semester, so she assumed that he was just ready to wrap up the night. But there was something that was eating away at her, telling her that there was something else there.

However, Farkle gave her a real genuine smile, one that lit up his eyes and before directing his attention back to Smackle, who was whispering something in his ear and she sighed. A quick look at the tv in front of her told her that it was only a couple seconds to midnight and she quickly pushed away all the negative feelings instead focusing on this group.

When she focused on these people around her, and only them. All she could feel on her end was love. She just hoped the feeling was reciprocal.

…

“Did you kids have fun last night?” Her mom asked as her and Lucas sat down at the kitchen table the next morning. She hadn’t meant for Lucas to spend the night, but when she had nearly fallen asleep on him when he was walking her home, it seemed like the obvious thing to do. Besides, she slept so much more peacefully when he was next to her.

“Yeah, it was cool to catch up with everybody. I’m glad we were all able to hang out together at least once.” Lucas said, an easy smile crossing his face. Riley nodded in agreement, thanking her mom with a smile when she got handed a plate of pancakes.

“Good, honestly, it’s so hard to keep up with friends from high school, so keep it up as long as you can. Especially when you have friends like yours.” Her mom said, taking the seat across from them.

“It wasn’t hard for dad and Uncle Shawn.” Riley said with a snort, exchanging an amused look with Lucas.

“Your father and Shawn are a very rare situation, and hopefully you and your friends will follow in those footsteps.” Her mother said with a smile. “It’s been a long time since I saw a friendship like the one that you guys all have.”

“Yeah, we definitely have something special don’t we.” Riley smiled. Her smile only grew when she felt Lucas grab her hand under the table and give it a soft squeeze.

“That’s something I’ve always known about all of you.” Topanga said with a grin, standing up from the table and putting her empty plate in the sink. “That and you two were going to give your father more than one heart attack in his lifetime.”

Riley felt herself turn beat red and one look at Lucas told her that he was also flushed slightly with embarrassment. Her mom merely winked at the two of them before disappearing down the hall, no doubt to go wake up her brother.

“So, last night was fun, right?” Lucas asked once her mom was out of sight and they were alone in the room. Riley smiled softly at him, nodding.

“Yeah, I’m really glad that we all hung out. Also equally as glad that no one confessed someone else’s love for someone as soon as the clock struck midnight.” Riley joked, giggling lightly when Lucas’ groaned.

“I think we’ve all experienced that enough times. One time was one time too many.”

“Agreed.”

A silence fell over the two of them and Riley grinned to herself, looking at Lucas out of the corner of her eye every couple of seconds. There was a peacefulness to the moment, a calmness that she felt so rarely these days.

She decided to savor every minute of it, unsure of when it would come around again.

…

The rest of her break passes in a blur, all days blending together and none of them standing out amongst the rest. She hangs out with Maya a few more times, continues to learn all about her best friend’s new life in California. With how often Maya talks about her roommate, Riley can see why she’s itching so badly to get back to the west coast.

She tries not to let it bother her too much.

A couple days before they’re all due back at school, Riley and Lucas go on a double date with Smackle and Farkle, deciding to revisit an old high school tradition. They end up going to the movies and out for pizza and it’s probably the most fun Riley has her entire break. Mainly because their evening is too full of eating and silent film enjoyment that there isn’t much room for talking.

Before she knows it, it’s time for her to say goodbye to all of her friends again and for them all to return to their new little corners of the universe. It will be months before they all end up together again, so the goodbyes are hard and Riley feels herself more and more drained of energy as each one passes.

Zay is the first to leave, citing rehearsals for some performance as the reason he has to get back to school. He stops by Topanga’s to say goodbye to them all before his mom takes him back to the airport and Riley makes sure to hug him extra tight before letting him go. She manages to crack out a watery smile when he squeezes her shoulder in response to her parting words.

Next is Farkle, and Riley doesn’t realize how hard it would be to say goodbye to one of her oldest friends again, until she’s forced to do it. All of them accompany him to the airport and Riley is the only one who cries. Smackle looks a little sad to be leaving him again, but she holds it together. Maya and Lucas both look too proud to be upset, Maya ruffling Farkle’s hair and Lucas giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder as he parts with them. Riley tries to ignore the tug in her heart as she watches him fade from her eyesight.

Maya and Smackle leave on the same day, both of them practically buzzing with excitement to get back to school. Maya is thrilled to return to her roommate and the endless supply of art waiting for her back at school and Smackle can barely contain her joy at the classes she managed to sign up for. It’s a bittersweet goodbye to both of them outside of her apartment building, where they both appeared at to say goodbye.

Smackle makes sure to squeeze her really tight when she gives Riley her departing hug, assuring Riley that she will miss her greatly. Maya’s goodbye is a lot harder, and Riley feels like a part of her soul is leaving her when she watches her best friend get into her mom’s car. The hug that they shared wasn’t nearly long enough and the ‘I love you’ Riley had whispered into Maya’s ear wasn’t nearly everything she wanted to say but she can only wave sadly as Maya drives into the distance.

Luckily, or unluckily for her, Lucas is the last to leave.

She isn’t quite sure how to process it all, when she’s standing in front of him at JFK, trying to find the right words to say. She knows that it will only be a couple of months before they see each other again, but right now, a day away from him sounds just about as pleasant as a root canal.

“So, looks like this is where I have to stop.” She says, not wanting to let go of his hands as they stand in front of the arrival and departure board. He only smiles sadly at her.

One thing she is happy for, that it’s just the two of them. Grace had said her goodbyes before Lucas left the apartment and Cory and Topanga wished him farewell earlier in the day before him and Riley left for the airport, so it’s just the two of them. Less people to see her cry after the fact.

“Turns out the longer time we spend together, the harder it is to say goodbye.” Lucas says softly, pulling her into him and wrapping his arms around her. She sighs into his shoulder, feeling hot tears prick the corners of her eyes.

“I don’t want you to go.” She whispers agains the fabric of his shirt and she feels him nod into her hair, pressing his lips to the shell of her ear.

“Trust me, I don’t want to go either, but I have to.” Pulling away slightly, he gave her a teary eyed smile, looking down at the ground for a moment. She heard him clear his throat and she took that time to wipe the tears away from her face, trying her best to hold it together until he was gone.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, I know it is.”

“Yeah, we’ve done pretty good so far, I just have gotten so used to seeing you everyday.”

“I know, it’ll be weird to get used to again, but I know we can do it.” She said, trying to sound as confident as she could, but her voice cracked and she knew that it was going to be hard to not sob as soon as he was apart from her.

“Yeah.”

They’re silent for a second, both of them just looking at each other, almost as if they’re trying to memorize each other’s faces. Riley thinks that it would be impossible for her to ever forget what Lucas Friar’s face looks like, but she’s never one to turn down an excuse to look at him.

“I should go, my flight’s in like forty five minutes and I have to go through security.” Lucas’ voice is quiet and Riley merely nods, swallowing down the sob that’s building in her throat. She pulls him in for another hug, just needing one more reminder of what it’s like to hold him and what he smells like, not that she could ever forget.

“I love you.” She mutters against his skin, pressing a small kiss to the crook of his shoulder. He squeezes her in response, taking an extra minute to breathe her in before pulling away.

“I love you too.” They exchange a watery smile, holding eye contact for a moment. Lucas breaks it first, biting his lip and looking down at the ground again. “I have to go.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll call you as soon as I land.” She only nods, not sure if any words would be sufficient enough, she would never have the right words to say goodbye to him.

Watching him walk away from her, tears building in her eyes, it takes her back to when she left him at A&M all those months ago. The only difference, is that Maya is there to squeeze her hand and hold her tightly.

She’s alone.

…

The following day she’s in her room, packing up the last of her stuff when she’s interrupted by a knock on the door. It surprises her considering no one in her family seems to know how to knock.

“Yeah?”

“Hey Riley, can I come in?” Auggie asks, standing at her door with a smile on his face. She returns it, gesturing him into her room.

“Since when does anyone in this family knock on doors?” She asks jokingly, continuing to fold her clothes and organize her stuff into her suitcase.

“Ava told me that it’s rude to just barge into people’s rooms so I’m giving the knocking thing a chance. You a fan?”

“Very much so.” She says with a smirk, putting the last of her shirts in her bag and zipping it up. There’s only about ten minutes until her dad is taking her back and she’s trying to soak up every moment she can before she has to leave. Her cold and empty dorm room is the last place she wants to go. “So, what can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to say goodbye before you leave.” Auggie says, a small smile on his face. Riley’s heart warms and she walks around the bed to wrap her arms around her little brother. “I can tell that you’ve been kind of sad lately and I don’t want you to be sad anymore.”

His words feel a little bit like a kick to the gut and she wonders if anyone else in her family has been able to tell. She doesn’t want to tell Auggie that he’s right, not wanting him to know how truly down she’s been feeling lately, especially because it’s nothing for him to worry about, but she also feels weird about lying.

“Yeah, I was just a little sad about everyone leaving, but I’m fine now.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you for caring though.”

“You’re my sister, Riley. I’ll always care about you and want you to be happy.” Auggie says simply. He looks like he doesn’t quite believe her, but doesn’t further question the issue. “I miss Lucas.”

“I do too, buddy.” She says, a real, easy smile crossing her lips. “I do too.”

“Luckily him and I are on the same page about you being happy, he wants you to be happy too Riley, I know he does. I asked him.”

“I am happy Augs, I promise.” She gives him a small smile, not fully believing the words that come out of her mouth.

“Good.” She brings him in for another hug, wondering what she did to deserve a brother that cares about her so much. Auggie shouldn’t be spending his time worrying about her being happy, she’s not worth all that energy and time.

“Riley! Time to get going, I don’t wanna hit too much traffic.” She smiles softly against her brother’s hair and pulls away from him.

“I gotta go bud, but I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay, bye Riley.” She gives Auggie another small smile, grabbing her bag from her bed. Ruffling his hair on her way out the door, she pauses in the doorway, taking a minute to look around her room.

With a deep breath, she forces herself to look away from the place that feels the most like home to her right now, and exits the room. Not quite ready to start the next chapter of her life.

But having no such choice but to do it.

[5hfanfiction]

Blame It On Bad Luck - Chapter 25

Lauren decided that she liked sleeping next to Camila better than sleeping alone.

It was more or less the only thing going through her mind when she noticed the brunette waking up, groaning as she stretched and rubbed her eyes. She adjusted the black throw blanket over her naked body and briefly looked around in a daze before blinking and sitting up.

And there was something so beautiful about her first thing in the morning, an ethereal quality; hair in messy waves cascading over her shoulders and the early sun radiating on her bare back, drenching her skin.

Lauren also decided that Camila was absolutely breathtaking at any time of the day.

Her eyes landed on the raven haired girl in the kitchen who appeared to already be showered and ready for the day.

“What time is it?”

“Almost eight.”

“Ugh, why?” she groaned again before lying back down, closing her eyes again. “School’s out for the holiday; we don’t even have class until Monday.”

“Yeah but I actually work now, which is still shocking if I’m being perfectly honest.” She walked over to the couch, wiping her hands on her thighs and Camila opened her eyes again, taking in her appearance. She was in simple skinny jeans, a black sweater, and her converses with her hair still slightly wet and pushed to the side over one shoulder. “I didn’t mean to wake you. You can go back to sleep, but I’m making breakfast if you want.”

“You are?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

“You know how I told you to go back to your old self? This part of the new you can stay. And the part that cleans,” she joked, somewhat, and Lauren laughed at the still sleepy brunette.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I love it when you sweet talk me.”

“Shut up.” She made her way back to the kitchen and called out behind her, “Keep it up and you get no French toast.” At her words, Camila sat up again and folded her arms over the back of the couch, now fully awake.

“Wait, did you say French toast?” she asked, watching curiously as Lauren grabbed the butter from the fridge. “That’s my favorite. It’ll be just cruel if you deprived me.”

“It’s a good thing I’m known for my compassion,” she replied sarcastically.

“Jerk.”

“That sounds about right.” She chuckled to herself, placing a couple slices of the coated bread into the frying pan. She looked over to the brunette still watching her and Camila immediately smiled at her. “What?”

“Nothing. You look cute when you’re being domestic.”

“You look cute when you’re naked,” she quipped back without much thought. Camila rolled her eyes and stood up from the couch, purposely walking around it to get into Lauren’s line of sight. She just barely caught the green eyed girl’s stare as she made her way to the bathroom to take a shower. She smirked before turning her head.

“Don’t burn the toast.”

“Wow,” she said, mostly to herself as she heard the bathroom door shut, and she shook her head to snap out of it. But she still felt the heat in her cheeks while she tried to focus on the frying pan in front of her and not the image of her naked roommate.

It was only around ten or fifteen minutes before she came back out of their bedroom with her hair wet and wearing her underwear and a loose t-shirt that only just barely reached the bottom of her ass.

Lauren was in the process of taking some bacon out of the pan and placing them on a paper towel when she felt Camila press her cheek against her shoulder, looking over at what she was doing.

“Good morning,” she mumbled before she stole a piece of bacon, causing Lauren to smile—almost automatically, like she had no say in the matter. And really, she didn’t think she did anymore.

“Morning.” She turned the stove off and turned around, just staring at the brunette in front of her. Her eyes glanced down at her lips and she wondered if it was okay now.

She found it kind of silly, even she had to admit, that even after spending the night in bed—well, the couch, anyway—together she was still so hesitant to make a move.

“You okay?” Camila asked after a moment or so and Lauren realized she hadn’t said anything and was just in a trance looking at her.

“What? Yeah, I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah I’m…I’m good.” She averted her eyes, turning back to the food and she put a few strips of bacon on one of the plates with French toast already on it. She handed it to Camila, not meeting her eyes that time.

“If you say so,” she shrugged, taking her plate happily, and brought it over to the coffee table in front of the couch. And try as she might, Lauren couldn’t help when her eyes fell to the girl’s backside and then even lower to her ass as she walked.

It was weird—perhaps things were different. It’s not like they hadn’t had sex before. During their whole casual, no strings, distraction arrangement, things were never awkward.

And maybe it had to do with things not being so casual anymore. There were strings now. At least to Lauren there were. And despite her original plans to deny it until her death, she wanted things to be different. She wanted the strings.

Part of her thought it was just her imagination; that things were really just fine and she was making them more complicated than they had to be. Camila was there; completely sober and happy and she wanted to kiss her—amongst other things.

But she couldn’t help but feel like making one wrong move was going to ruin everything. She’d never felt this way about anybody before. She couldn’t mess it up again.

“Are you like…going to eat in the kitchen…or?” Camila’s voice caught her attention once again. She looked up at the girl staring at her with her eyebrow raised, an amused look on her face, before going back to scrolling through Netflix. “You’re being a weirdo again; come sit with me.”

“I am not,” she scoffed, grabbing her plate and joining her on the couch. She used her free hand to wave their cat off who had made himself comfortable next to the brunette. “Move, Fatass.”

“Wow, why’d I think you were talking to me?”

“Well, I mean…” she trailed off, earning a slap on the arm from the tiny brunette who glared at her. “I’m kidding!”

“Bitch.”

“Really? After I made breakfast for you, this is what I get in return?”

“What else were you expecting? I already dropped my panties for you yesterday; what more do you want?” she told her casually and Lauren almost choked on the piece of toast she was chewing. She coughed a couple times and Camila threw her head back laughing.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I wouldn’t want to make you late for work anyway,” she shrugged and bit a piece of bacon. As she chewed she turned her head, watching the green eyed girl cutting another piece of toast without even realizing the smile stretching across her cheeks as she did.

“What?” she asked with her mouth full once she noticed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I like looking at you.”

“Oh,” she said, blinking a couple times, unable to come up with any other response.

“You have such pretty eyes. Have I ever told you that?”

“Uh, no, I don’t think so? But um, thank you, you have…pretty…hands,” she replied dumbly just before shutting her eyes at how awkward she sounded.

“I do?” she asked anyway, looking at her hand held out in front of her.

“I mean…yeah. But like, your eyes are…pretty too.”

Lauren was certain it wasn’t possible to make an even bigger fool out of herself than she already had but she was proving herself wrong left and right. Much to her relief Camila seemed to find her words endearing.

“You really think so? They’re so boring though.”

“What? No they’re not.”

“But they’re brown. Nobody likes brown eyes.”

“I like brown eyes,” she mumbled while biting a piece of bacon.

“You do?”

“Well, I like your brown eyes.”

“It just isn’t a pretty color or anything like, your eyes are insane. It was one of the first things I thought when I met you. Like, how can someone have eyes like that?”

“Oh come on.”

“What? It’s true!”

“There’s nothing wrong with your eyes you nut job. Brown’s a good color. It’s, uh…the color of coffee. And coffee is great.”

“It’s also the color of dirt.”

“Which…things…grow out of,” she argued, causing Camila to laugh again. “Which, you know, is essential for human life…and stuff.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“It’s also the color of chocolate. Uh, and peanut butter cups,” she said suddenly, like she had the most brilliant idea in the world. Camila stared at her in amusement. “And you love peanut butter cups so you can’t fight me on this without contradicting yourself. Right? Like, you got little peanut butter cup eyes.”

“You’re so romantic, Lauren.”

“You’re so annoying. Take the compliment. Okay? I like your stupid pretty peanut butter cup eyes.”

“That actually is oddly sweet coming from you.”

“I have my moments.”

“I can see that.”

“Stop staring at me and eat your food, loser,” she shoved her shoulder playfully earning a glare in return when Camila almost dropped her plate.

“Fine. You know what? I’m just glad I finally get to stay home and do nothing. Just me and the cat and Netflix.”

“Do you have any plans tonight?” she asked randomly, forking another piece of toast into her mouth. “For the holiday. Like, I don’t know what you usually do on Thanksgiving.”

“I usually spend it with Dinah’s family. It’s nice, you know, like she has such a huge family and they’re all so close. It was better than any holiday I ever spent back at home with my own family.”

“That’s cool. So you’re going to be with them later?”

“Nah, they went to visit relatives in California this year so I’m just…home, I guess,” she explained somewhat bummed after having gotten used to being with her best friend on the holiday but also still somewhat content at actually having a place to call her own that year. “What about you?”

“What about me? I don’t go home to my family,” she laughed humorlessly. She stood from the couch and went over to the fridge, retrieving the maple syrup. She sighed when she sat back down. “I know I’m like, talking to them again now or whatever. But still…I doubt they’d want me there.”

“Don’t say that. You don’t know how they’d feel this time.”

“I know one person definitely wouldn’t want me there,” she mumbled, pouring the syrup over her toast and stabbing it with her fork. “So, you know, why bother?”

“It’s worth a shot,” she tried again, but could sense the raven haired girl was getting annoyed at the subject so she stopped herself. “Sorry, it’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s okay I just…hate that he still won’t talk to me.” She offered the syrup to her roommate before shooing the cat away when he tried to steal some food from her plate. She sighed again, louder that time. “I don’t know. I’ll talk to my mom about it later today or something.”

“Okay. I really hope it goes well for you, you know,” she told her honestly and Lauren turned her head to offer a small smile.

“Thanks, Camz.”

“No problem. This breakfast is fantastic by the way. I’m not even mad at you anymore for waking me up so early. I am mad at you, however, for never making breakfast up until today.”

“Hey, I’m working on it okay.”

“I know. I’m just saying…this is nice,” she said genuinely, her previous joking gone, and a brief look of serenity washed over her features.

She set her fork down and reached out to scratch the cat’s ears, smiling at him when he shut his eyes. And Lauren had to admit, sitting there with Camila and their cat having breakfast on the couch together, was something she could definitely get used to.

They watched TV together in a comfortable silence, Lauren staring at Camila every now and then and Camila pretending not to notice. But she had so many things she wanted to say to the brunette, so many questions lingered at the edge of her mouth. Things were going well and she didn’t want to break the content bubble they had been in since last night.

“Can we talk about it?” she asked out of nowhere, her heart already beating faster at the prospect of the conversation they were about to have.

Camila seemed confused, furrowing her brows, and paused the show to turn to look at her roommate watching her hesitantly.

“Talk about what?”

“Sorry, I-I know that kind of came completely out of left field, but,” she started, racking her brain for the words she wanted to say. “It’s just that we never…talk about….things…that we should, um…probably talk about?” Her words came out as more of a question than an explanation and Camila wiped her mouth on the napkin in her hand before setting her plate down.

“We can, if you want.”

“I do. I just…I don’t know. This seems kind of lame now that I’m…actually talking.” She made a face at her poor attempt and shook her head while Camila watched her.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Lauren?” she tried again when the green eyed girl said nothing else. “I mean, I wanted to ask you last night too. I probably should have.”

“Ask me what?”

“If you’re okay. I don’t really…know what happened…you know, before you ended up in the hospital. And your bruises haven’t completely gone away and…I just, like…” She stopped herself when she realized she wasn’t doing a great job at getting her point across either. She groaned in frustration. “Wow, maybe this is why we never talk about things. We’re terrible at it.”

“Well you’re not wrong,” she laughed weakly. “And for the record…I am okay.”

“Really?”

“I already told you, Camz. I don’t want to think about what happened that night. I don’t want to know. I just want to put it behind me. Besides, it couldn’t possibly be worse than any of the other shit I’ve gotten myself into.”

“Still…I just hate thinking that you were hurt like-”

“Please don’t think about it,” she said, cutting her off before she could say anything else. “Even if…that…did…happen, it’s completely different. Last night I…I wanted to be with you.”

“Okay,” she said quietly, “just checking.” Things remained only slightly tense for a little while longer. Camila shifted, tucking one foot under her and leaning back against the couch while the fat tabby cat made itself comfortable in her lap. “I’m sorry for bringing it up. I know you just want to move on from it.”

“It’s okay. I know you mean well, Camila. I didn’t mean for us to get into this again,” she explained before taking a breath, trying to calm her nerves. She rubbed her hands on top of her jean clad thighs and kept her eyes down. “I just um, don’t really know…where your head is at, is all.”

“Well if last night was any indication…I mean…I think it’s pretty obvious.”

“I’m not much of a mind reader, Camz. And I’m always somehow thinking the wrong thing. And I just don’t…I don’t want this to mean nothing….again.”

Her words left her mouth before she could process them. And it took her about ten seconds of silence going over them again to decide that she didn’t regret it. Because no matter how awkwardly it came out and no matter how nervous she felt with Camila’s intense gaze on her it was exactly what she wanted to say and it was time she finally said it.

Camila frowned, sitting up a little straighter and turning her body to face Lauren’s, causing the cat to jump back onto the floor. She waited until Lauren finally looked back at her to come up with any kind of response.

“Is that what you think?”

“Isn’t that what you said? I mean…we were just distracting each other, weren’t we?”

“Well…yeah. But-”

“It’s fine. Really. I mean, it was my idea.” She looked back down at her lap, up at the still paused television screen, the overweight cat lounging on his side on the floor. She fidgeted with her hands, tugging the sleeves of her sweater down over her fingers, anything to keep her preoccupied while Camila kept looking at her the way she was.

“It wasn’t nothing,” she eventually said, causing Lauren’s head to pick up, locking eyes. “I don’t know what it was when it started but…it wasn’t nothing.”

“It wasn’t?”

“Look, I’ll admit, I did want to forget about Allison. But…whenever I was with you…I never even thought about her at all. I…I had fun with you. It took me a while to realize it but after some time I just…did it because I wanted to, not to distract myself. Why didn’t you say anything before, Lauren?”

“Because,” she mumbled while moving her finished plate off of her lap and onto the table. When she sat back against the couch, she looked over at Camila and sighed, ignored the knots twisting in her stomach. “I figured you just didn’t want anything more than that. And that would be okay. I’d just…take what I could get. You know? You’re the first person I’d been with that I actually wanted to be with. I guess I wasn’t…ready to lose that.”

Camila stared at the girl with her lips parted, not knowing how to respond, or come up with words at all. Lauren, instead of sitting there waiting for her, got up and brought her plate over to the kitchen and placed it in the sink. She focused on steadying her breathing, ignoring the moisture on the palms of her hands. It felt like an eternity waiting for her.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s okay,” she told her honestly, turning around and leaning her hands against the counter behind her. “I just wanted you to know how I felt.”

“I’m not used to you being this…candid. We just seemed to work the way we were. Didn’t we? I mean, I told you I didn’t want you to feel like I was…using you or anything like that. I guess I just never really thought about it until recently.”

“What changed?”

“The fact that I still missed you when I left. The fact that I wanted to hate you so badly and couldn’t find it in me to not give you another chance.”

“And you thought I was worth another chance?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. You know, a part of me thought it might be too soon—coming home, I mean. I told myself I didn’t want to get my hopes up and I knew being here with you again was going to make me fall right back into whatever feelings I had before. But then I realized…I can’t fall back into something that I never even got out of in the first place.”

“Really?” Lauren asked, smiling slightly as she made her way back to the living room where Camila was still sitting. The brunette looked up at her and reached for her hand, pulling on it gently to urge her to sit back down with her.

“Yeah. But then I did come home and you like, wouldn’t talk to me.”

“I don’t know. I figured I’d just stay out of your way.”

“But…I want you to be in my way.”

At the brunette’s words she had to pull her hand back and she buried her face in both of them, unable to really contain herself. She couldn’t explain it even if she tried but something about Camila made her an absolute mess in the best way possible.

In her attempt to hide her blushing face from her roommate, she missed the way the brown eyed girl smiled at her. And Lauren would never be able to understand; it was this odd mix of her making her feel so completely comfortable and at ease to making her forget her words and turning her into an emotional stuttering mess without even actually doing anything. She didn’t even know she was capable of feeling this way.

“Ugh, keep saying shit like that Cabello and my heart’s gonna fall out of my ass.”

“You’re such an idiot,” she said through her laughter, leaning her head back against the couch as she looked at her roommate fondly, happy to see her smiling again.

“So we’re okay?”

“Of course we are.” Lauren’s first instinct was to lean in but once again felt like she couldn’t move. The warmth she felt in her chest was spreading through her whole body and she couldn’t remember a time when she smiled this much. She was so busy practically getting lost in Camila’s eyes she almost completely missed when she asked, “When do you have to leave for work?”

“Oh shit,” she mumbled, checking the time on her phone. “Like, five minutes ago. Fuck, I got to go.” She quickly stood up from the couch, ready to grab her things and leave the apartment as quickly as she could so she wouldn’t be late. A hand grabbing the hem of her sweater stopped her from going anywhere.

“Wait,” Camila whined and Lauren looked down at her in confusion.

“What?” she asked in a rushed tone but Camila said nothing, simply tugging her sweater and raising her eyebrows as she looked up at her expectantly. “What is it?”

“Seriously?” she laughed, tugging on her sweater some more, urging her closer to her. Once she was close enough, she let go and reached up to pull her into her by the back of her neck, finally bringing their lips together in a kiss that—in her opinion—was long overdue.

Lauren seemed startled for a moment but quickly kissed her back, shutting her eyes and reveling in the salty sweet taste still faintly lingering on the shorter girl’s lips. When she pulled back the raven haired girl was still dazed, momentarily forgetting where she was and that she was probably going to be late if she didn’t hurry up and leave.

“Okay, now you can go to work.”

When she opened her eyes again, Camila was smirking up at her. She used the pad of her thumb to swipe the corner of her bottom lip before reaching for her nearly finished plate and bringing it back to her lap, pressing play on the television.

She opened her mouth just to close it right back shortly after. And she couldn’t seem to speak or even move from her spot. It wasn’t until Camila looked back up, amused again that she still hadn’t left.

“Didn’t you say you’re going to be late?” she asked the girl, finally snapping her out of it.

“Yes, right, shit,” she mumbled as she turned to grab her stuff from the small dining table.

Camila chuckled quietly, reaching down to pick up Fatass and bring him back onto the couch to sit with her. She was stroking his ear when she heard footsteps behind her and she didn’t have enough time to even turn her head before Lauren turned it for her and planted another kiss firmly on her lips, taking her completely by surprise.

And much like Lauren before, she was stunned and a little breathless when she released her, her heart racing in her chest. Without another word the green eyed girl headed straight for the door. Just before she left she called out to a still bewildered Camila behind her.

“See you later, Camz!”

“Wow,” she said once the door closed, still smiling stupidly in the wake of the kiss.

*

Despite not wanting to be at work at all, Lauren was dying of boredom and was just begging for someone to come in the store all day but due to the holiday it was relatively quiet. A few customers came in but mostly she just reorganized records and played music to pass the time.

She texted Camila briefly when her day was nearly done to see if she was still home only to find out that she wasn’t. She didn’t bother to ask when all she told her was that she had some stuff to do and wouldn’t be home late.

Camila felt exhaustion in every single bone in her body by the time she walked back to her car. The sun had just finished setting and the night was taking over, a dull blue in the sky and a light breeze blowing past her hair. She breathed in the cool air, trying to calm her nerves and not get herself too worked up as she glanced at the church building behind her.

She felt it in her chest, the frustration bubbling up and spreading from head to toe and all she wanted was to scream it out. She took another deep breath before pulling her phone out and finding her roommate’s number. She waited and waited and, annoyingly, got no response. She shut her eyes and tried again only to get the same result.

It was never easy seeing her parents; they certainly never tried to be even remotely amicable, which was unfair and—admittedly—quite absurd given the circumstances. She just wanted to help out without having them on her case every time she saw them. Was that so much to ask for?

She gave up on trying to call Lauren, assuming she might have ended up with her family after all. She drove until she pulled up to a small shopping center and parked in front of the liquor store. She figured if she was going to be alone after the shitty evening she had she might as well be annoyed with a bottle of wine.

Once she was done she quickly ran into the Starbucks next door to grab a coffee before heading home. But as she waited in line she heard a familiar voice and, honestly, it was the last one she thought she would ever hear again. She tried not to actually groan out loud.

“Camila?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mumbled inaudibly under her breath before turning around and seeing her ex-girlfriend standing behind her. As much as she wanted to just ignore her she felt her insufferable need to be civil with everyone tugging at her. “Hi, Allison.”

“Hey, wow, it’s good to see you,” she said in a hesitant but friendly tone. And it did nothing but bother Camila, remembering the last time she had seen her, the last time she was being nice. And it was a lot easier that time to not pull some bullshit response out of her ass to make small talk with the girl.

“Alright.”

“Um…okay then. I just wanted to say hi…see how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine.”

“Oh come on, don’t be like that.”

“Be like what? I’m just trying to get coffee,” she said indifferently just as the barista asked her for her drink order. Once she paid she made her way to the other end of the counter to wait and prayed it wouldn’t take that long. Unfortunately, the blonde didn’t seem to take the hint and approached her again after placing her own order.

“Look, I know things didn’t end well with us, but…I don’t know, I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.”

“Sure.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I, like, literally why are you talking to me right now?”

“Because…I miss you,” she admitted and that time Camila couldn’t hold back. She rolled her eyes and turned to face the blonde again.

It was strange. She used to feel so hurt and angry; all these pent up feelings whenever she would think about her or see her. But standing there in that coffee shop she didn’t feel a single thing.

“Wow,” she laughed humorlessly, shaking her head.

“What?”

“You’re really trying this? What makes you think I care whether or not you miss me, Allison? Because I don’t. I don’t even think about you anymore. You’re not even a thought in my head so what gave you the impression that I care?”

Before she could respond, a different barista announced her drink and she couldn’t have been happier to take it and get the hell out of there. She exhaled loudly once she got outside and she shut her eyes tightly, trying not to get worked up again.

She dug through her bag for her keys but Allison caught up to her before she could get them out and unlock her car to get away from her.

“Seriously?” she said, not bothering to hide how annoyed she was. The taller girl looked at her with pleading eyes and even Camila was taken aback at how unfazed she was by them.

“I’m sorry, Mila. For everything,” she told her instead, ignoring the tone in the brunette’s voice. “I hate how things ended.”

“Because of you.”

“I didn’t mean to. Okay? I made a mistake.”

“No you didn’t!” she snapped suddenly, catching her ex—and herself—off guard. But she didn’t care whether or not she was being loud or irrational or if it was old wounds that didn’t need to be reopened ever again. Because her words left a bitter taste in her mouth, burning her tongue and her throat. “You didn’t make a mistake. Cheating isn’t a mistake; it’s a choice.”

“Camila-”

“No, Allison, you made a choice. You chose to flirt with other people, you chose to dance with them, and get high with them, and kiss them, and you chose to go home with them, and you chose to take their clothes off and touch them the way you touched me.”

Her words were unwavering and cut like a knife and she surprised herself with how firmly she was standing her ground. Where she once would have crumbled beneath the blonde’s blue eyed stare and fall right back at her feet she found herself with a strong resolve, steady and unyielding.

“So you can tell me you didn’t mean it all you want but please,” she continued, ready to end this conversation and go home, “tell me exactly what it was you meant to do when you fucked somebody that wasn’t me.”

“I…I don’t-” she stammered but Camila didn’t give her a chance to come up with another excuse. She had made enough of them to last a lifetime and, quite frankly, she didn’t have the patience for it anymore. Not when she knew she deserved better. Not when she was finally happy.

“You know what? It doesn’t even matter. I’ve moved on so why don’t you do the same and just stay out of my life already? I don’t want anything to do with you anymore, Allison.” And with that she opened her car door and pulled out of the parking spot, not even giving the girl a second glance as she left her behind.

The drive back to the apartment was silent. She still couldn’t get a hold of Lauren but didn’t want to bug the girl by calling so much. She sipped her coffee and rolled the window down, feeling the tension leaving her body quicker than she anticipated.

She’d always felt so weak when it came to her ex-girlfriend but she actually felt…completely fine.

She was relieved when she made it back, more than ready to just have a drink or two and call it a night after the day she had. When she opened the door though, to her surprise, she was met instantly with the smell of food and her roommate setting a bunch of stuff down on the table in a rush.

She only noticed she was home when she heard the door shut, startling her back to an upright position.

“Jesus Christ,” she breathed out with a hand over her chest. Camila didn’t move from her spot and just stared at the girl and the Thanksgiving dinner set up for two on their dining table. “You scared the shit out of me. I was wondering when you’d get home.”

“I called you a bunch of times but you didn’t pick up.”

“You did?” she blinked before furrowing her brows and patting down on her jean pockets. “Oh, it’s probably still charging in the bedroom. I’m sorry; I’ve just been so busy trying to get everything together for you.”

“For me?” she asked softly, looking between the table and the green eyed girl. Her mouth felt dry as a wave of something she hadn’t felt in a really long time came over her. “You did this for me?”

“I…well, yeah, I mean,” she said timidly as she ran her fingers through her hair and pushed it to the side. She didn’t think she’d get so nervous again but Camila was looking at her and lately that seemed to reduce her to a hopelessly lost idiot every time. “I know you usually spend holidays with Dinah and you just like, I don’t know, seemed kind of down that you didn’t get to do that this year. And also, like, I don’t do anything ever. I’ve spent every holiday alone for the last five years. And, I don’t know, I just…I thought it would…be cool to like, be alone together this year.”

Camila stood, a bit speechless, trying to process everything in front of her; the dinner that Lauren went out of her way to set up, the hopeful look in her impossibly green eyes, the resolute honesty in the words she spoke despite how stuttered they were.

“Wait, what’s wrong? Did I do something?” she asked the brunette anxiously when she noticed the tears in her eyes and Camila didn’t even realize she had started crying.

“No, no,” she quickly reassured her. “This is just…so nice of you.” She wiped at her eyes and looked up at her roommate watching her carefully. And she let out a breath that came out more as a laugh, a smile stretching her cheeks. “And you really are so cute when you’re in your feelings,” she told her, causing the raven haired girl to groan in embarrassment.

“Ugh, Camz, what did I say about making fun of me for that?” She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest and muttered to herself, “Fucking Ally, I swear to God…”

Before she could continue she felt a pair of arms wrap around her neck and she smelled the familiar scent of Camila’s shampoo underneath her nose as she hugged her tightly, burying her face in the crook of her neck. Lauren moved her own arms around the brunette’s shoulders and pulled her close, her mild annoyance dissipating almost instantly at the warmth of her embrace.

Camila pulled back from her hold, but only slightly. She moved some of Lauren’s hair behind her ear for her and brought her hand back to touch her cheek, feeling the soft skin beneath her fingertips, feeling how hard her heart was beating. She brought her other hand up to the other side of her face and pulled her into her—standing on her toes—until their lips met in a gentle kiss that both girls couldn’t help but smile into.

“Thank you, Lauren,” she told her as she moved back onto her heels, seeing that smile still on the green eyed girl’s face.

“Really? You like it?”

“I love it.”

“Good,” she said and the breath she let out sounded like a sigh of relief. She pulled out one of the chairs and urged her to sit, not allowing her to help with anything. “Here, sit, I’m uh, I’m just about done bringing everything out.”

“Wow, this is a lot of food. You know we’re just two people, right?”

“Are you like, implying that you’re…not going to eat it all?”

“Oh, no, I probably am. I��m just saying,” she laughed as she took her coat off to hang before taking her shoes off. “I bought wine on my way home.”

“Nice, I’ll grab the glasses.” She jogged to the kitchen and opened the cabinets before calling out into the dining room. “Where were you tonight, anyway?”

“Um…” She took the wine out of the plastic bag and set it on the table while taking a seat in one of the chairs. She stared at the bottle uncomfortably, only just remembering the awful day she had with her parents. For a moment, she debated just lying to the girl about her whereabouts, but ultimately swallowed and said, “Church.”

“What?” Lauren asked, coming back to the table with two cups and a bottle opener. She watched her roommate not looking back at her, the way she tensed, her jaw set. “Um…well, I mean, are you okay?”

“He didn’t…hit me or anything…” She leaned back, shaking her head as Lauren took the seat adjacent to hers. “Sorry, I know you think I shouldn’t go because they’re just…the worst, but…”

She didn’t know why she expected the girl to go off on her for going to see her parents. She knew Lauren hated them and the way they treated her but she was just sitting and listening. It was weird, in a sense. But it helped Camila relax a bit knowing she wasn’t going to get a lecture or something.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Camz. Look…I get…doing what you feel you have to do, okay? Um…” she trailed off, pressing her tongue against her cheek before she grabbed the wine bottle and opened it, pouring some in each of their cups. When she sat the bottle back down, she sighed. “Just…if anything happens while you’re with them…call me or something, yeah?”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I will,” she said, her voice small and meek but she sent an appreciative smile to the green eyed girl. But her smile lasted all of three seconds before she remembered the other reason she was dying to come home. And once again, she felt like she shouldn’t lie to Lauren about it. She didn’t want there to be any secrets. “I saw Allison today.”

“You what?” she said incredulously before she could stop herself. She hadn’t expected that at all and her undeniable hatred for the girl resurfaced the second she heard her name. “Why?”

“Not, like, willingly,” she immediately corrected herself. “I ran into her in Starbucks and she tried to talk to me?”

“That’s it?”

“I mean…yeah, pretty much. I thought it would be harder to see her. Not in an I miss her sort of way. Because I don’t. At all. Like, I hope you know that. It’s really important to me that you know that.”

“Oh.”

“Lauren…I promise…” she assured her, sensing the tension her roommate was trying to hide. And the last thing she wanted was for things to be off or awkward between them when they were finally in a good place. “Seeing her did nothing but get on my nerves. I don’t want her in my life in any way, shape, or form. And tonight I realized—because I haven’t even been thinking about it or her for that matter up until I saw her—I am so fucking over her.”

“Really?”

“Really. She might as well not even exist. Besides,” she added, “I’m happy right here with you.”

“Oh,” she repeated, looking down at the table as a blush crept up on her cheeks and she smiled to herself. “Okay. Good. Um, thank you. For telling me.”

“No problem.” She glanced at the table and all the food set out for them, more than ready to eat. “Where did you get the turkey?” she asked randomly. “Because I know you definitely didn’t make this yourself.”

“Hell no I did not,” she said, her entire demeanor changing as she recalled the hassle of trying to get all the food earlier in the evening. “Those shits take hours to cook! Who the fuck has that kind of time?”

“Well, clearly not everyone in America,” she replied sarcastically. “Because nobody eats turkey on Thanksgiving.”

“Shut up.” She grabbed the plate of turkey, putting some on her own plate before handing it over to Camila. “And believe it or not, it’s from Boston Market.”

“Really? Huh, I would have never guessed. It looks really good. Is everything from there?”

“No. Well, not everything. I made the stuffing, the mac and cheese, and the mashed potatoes, but to be fair they’re all from boxes. I didn’t have that much time. Everything else is bought.”

“Honestly, Lauren, you didn’t have to get somuch. I would have been happy with anything.”

“I don’t know. I just wanted it to actually feel like Thanksgiving,” she frowned with a pout that Camila found painfully adorable. And it warmed her heart knowing she would go through the trouble to do something like this for her.

But it also occurred to her that none of the holidays felt like holidays to Lauren. She’d spent all these years by herself. She may have acted like she liked being alone but she could tell she missed it. And she had a feeling, on some level, this was for her too.

“It does. It’s perfect.”

“Then that’s all that matters,” she said, winking as she sipped her wine, causing Camila to blush that time.

“It’s really sweet that you went through so much trouble. I would have helped if you told me you wanted to do something,” she told her and Lauren shrugged.

“You’re worth the trouble.”

Camila smiled as she looked at her roommate, and their ridiculously fat cat staring longingly at their food from where he sat at their feet, feeling the most content she had in a while. And she decided that despite having spent some wonderful Thanksgiving’s with Dinah and her family, this one was by far her favorite.

*    *    *    *

a/n: there’s not too many chapter’s left so this story will be ending soon

thank you for reading

please be nice to each other and to yourselves

-lex