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duchessfics · 4 years

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Business and Pleasure Part 6

(https://lauramaher25.tumblr.com/post/179156351521/ahs-billie-dean-howard-apocalypse)

Billie x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): None? Except toxic work environment?

Summary: While Billie thought that this would be a shared vacation, she soon realizes their first day in New York, that this trip is in fact a very different experience for you compared to her. And in the process of seeing you being mistreated, she also has to deal with her own feelings towards you and if this is meant to be more than friends with benefits.

Word Count: 6031

A/n: So...this is late because my first draft was deleted for some reason...I don’t wanna talk about it 😭 but I feel like I should preface this by saying that this chapter is SFW because it’s focusing on some of the emotional/feeling things that Billie and the reader have not really dealt with as much. Of course there will be more NSFW content in the future, but I hope you enjoy this change of pace.

Part 5, Business and Pleasure Masterlist

When the chirp of your alarm rings out in the dark room you nearly cry in exhaustion. Yes—you are an adult and shouldn't find yourself on the verge of tears due to only sleeping for around 4 hours. But the inclination is still there.

You try to reach out and grab your phone from the nightstand. However that's when you remember your devilish plan to charge your phone across the room so you have to get up.

Damn your ingenuity.

The loud sound pounds through your head and fortunately the woman sleeping next to you is separate enough for you to slip out from under the covers, stagger over to your blaring phone, and turn the alarm off. Now that the room is still once more you pause and find your senses slowly perking up at the unfamiliar space.

Your toes curl into the soft cushiony carpet that is a little firmer than Billie's but still pliable and cozy. At the same time you see a crack of daylight by the curtained windows and hear the muffled sounds of morning traffic in Manhattan. Because you didn't get a good look last night you softly pad over to one of the windows that nearly expands the floor to the ceiling and part the blackout curtains just a crack to keep the room dark while peeking outside.

Amber hues with streaks of marigold and coral blend together and reflect off of the surrounding steel structures that line the streets and reach for the sky. Although the time is still early, the sun is rapidly rising and you look down to see vehicles and people the size of toys rushing around to where they are required for the day.

A soft breath from behind you gets your attention and you step back to shut the curtain once more. It takes a moment for your eyes to fully adjust to the darkened room, but your ears hear each soft breath she exhales. Like listening to a distress signal pulsating from afar.

Luckily the floor isn't cluttered with items, so you cautiously brush your hands out in front of yourself and follow her small, sleeping breaths until the tips of your fingers skim the satin duvet of your shared bed. By now your eyes are able to see the beautiful woman in front of you who still sleeps peacefully.

Because she lays on her side, Billie's face is turned towards you and you can see the slight crease between her brows and her eyes moving just the slightest bit under underneath her eyelids as she dreams. With her eyes closed, the length of her lashes is accentuated. Every part of her looks perfect. Like she’s a gift bestowed by the gods above.

And for some reason she notices you of all people.

The sharp intake of air between her slightly parted lips startles you and she shifts while mumbling something. The noise made you jump, but you go from shock to concern when she lets out the softest whimper and her brows scrunch up. Before you can even think, you take a seat on the side of the bed and softly shush her quiet noises of anxiety and protest.

Then your hand comes up to cup her cheek that doesn't rest on the pillow and you run your thumb up the bridge of her nose to rest in the space between her brows. The area is still crinkled in worry so you gently but firmly run the pad of your finger from the beginning of her brow to the end to smooth out the space while soothing in a voice more prominent that a whisper, but softer than regularly spoken word, “It’s ok Billie. Shh, it’s ok. I’ve got you. I’m right here. You’re safe.”

You keep up the slow movement and soft affirmation, and within a minute or two she settles back into her relaxed state and breathes deeply.

In an effort to not jar her by pulling away and exposing her to the cool air you run your fingers along the edge of her face to tuck back some of her hair near her mouth. However that is the moment you see on the nightstand alarm clock that a half hour has passed since your alarm went off.

Shit.

So you reluctantly withdraw from Billie retuck the covers around her and rush into the bathroom for a speedy get ready…

By 8:00 you're all dressed and ready to go. When you re-enter the main suite Billie still sleeps. So you quietly call room service and order a breakfast sampler for her and something for yourself. But the main thing you need at the moment is coffee. Luckily there's a Starbucks just around the block so you make an order on the app. Since room service said it would take 20 to 30 minutes for the food to be delivered, you run downstairs to grab the drinks while Billie continues to sleep.

Compared to last night, the streets and sidewalks bustle with activity and provide all different sorts of sights and sounds to take note of. But time is of the essence and honestly, the atmosphere will be marginally better with Billie out here with you. So you speed off to the Starbucks, wait in line, and grab Billie’s usual with your own basic iced coffee that has two extra shots of espresso. Then you do your glorified run back up to her room and arrive just as room service does.

After warning them Billie is still asleep, you open the door and let them swiftly and quietly set the plates on the small dining table in the living area of her suite. Then you help them remove the tops of the dishes and thank the staff before they leave. The delicious concoction of breakfast smells fills the room and your stomach rumbles in response. You didn't realize how hungry you are until now and your mouth waters as the decadent items of food layout before you.

“Is that breakfast I smell darling?” Billie asks from the other room.

Her low, sleepy voice warms your insides and you reply, “Yes. I've got your coffee too.” You hear her let out a soft hum of approval and a couple minutes later the blonde enters the doorway wearing one of the hotel’s luxurious, white robes over her light coral baby doll nightgown and her hair loosely tumbles over her shoulders as she saunters over. However, before she actually sits, she comes over to where you stand and presses a soft kiss to you lips. Then she parts enough for her chocolate orbs to meet yours and murmurs, “Good morning sweetheart.”

Her intentional intimacy isn't lost on you and the feeling of her soft, petal-like lips on yours does more to wake you up than five shots of espresso could. And the way you breathe, “Good morning Billie.” tells her everything she needs to know.

Your employer backs away to take a seat and you watch her fingers delicately curve over the top of her to-go iced latte and pick up the item to take a sip before setting it closer to her dining spot. The way she shifts to grip her fork and knife maintains your attention and as her fingers flex and curl you can't help but wonder if she uses those same movements when her digits are buried deep inside you and stroking that sensitive spongy spot in your depths.

Jesus Christ. It's barely past eight in the morning! Get ahold of yourself.

That's when you realize Billie has slowed her movements to a stop. So you slowly lift your gaze from her hands to her face and see she looks up to you with a raised brow

“Is something wrong?” she asks and her lips twitch in amusement. Rather than stuttering out some incoherent response like you normally do, you automatically answer, “Nope.” And sit across from her. Of course that's the moment you remember you need your binder to say the day’s itinerary.

You’re about as smooth as sandpaper—as usual.

Rather than even trying to act suave or nonchalant you clear your throat and feel your face warming as you mutter, “I'll be right back.” Then you shoot up and rush from the entertainment room to the bedroom, snatch your binder, and run back to sit down . The medium chuckles at your behavior and looks to you with the devious grin as she inquires, “Awe do you miss being in my presence that much, dear?” Of course she would assume that.

Because you’re alone, you let yourself laugh and tease back, “Do you have a humble bone in your body?” Billie grins at the fact that you feel safe enough to tease back and playfully muses, “I do but I can't say where. I will permit a full body search by you though.” Her words make you roll your eyes and groan, “Ha ha, very funny.” But both of you know you're far from annoyed.

You both go quiet but it's not an uncomfortable silence. Instead you pause to enjoy this uncommonly ordinary moment with someone you care about.

However, the buzzing of your phone interrupts the stillness and you break eye contact to see it's an email. At the same time you see it's twenty minutes past 8:00 and know you need to keep things moving to stay on time. So you look back to your boss and suggest, “How about I tell you today’s schedule while you finish your breakfast?” She agrees and starts to eat the warm breakfast. Meanwhile you open up your binder, flipping through numerous pages as you take a generous sip of your bitterly strong iced coffee.

By the time you set your drink back down on the table you’re on today's date and tell Billie, “Today is a less intense day. We need to be out of here by 9:30 for your photo shoot with Vogue. And that is expected to last from 10:30 to 4:00 between makeup, hair, outfit changes, set changes, lunch, and anything else. Then we'll need to be back here for your virtual PR prep meeting. It's not until 6:00 PM so I can get you dinner by calling in room service or ordering something to go. After the meeting you’re done.”

You look up from her itinerary to see her neatly slicing the last sections of the two mini pancakes on her plate. However her movements pause when you stop speaking and she looks to you before purring with sparkling eyes, “So, we have the whole evening to ourselves?”

Of course that's the one thing that stands out to her.

You let out a sigh and reply with a lightly admonishing tone while trying to keep from smiling, “Yes we'll have the whole evening. But first we need to get you ready and at your photo shoot.” Then you pick up your phone and open it while asking, “Do you have any special requests for them? Certain music, temperature, smells, lighting—anything at all?”

The medium chuckles and smoothly replies, “Just my lovely assistant by my side.” Her shameless flirting prompts you to look up at her face and playfully warn, “Billie…”

However she giggles and assures, “Kidding. I can't think of anything. But thank you sweetheart.” You respond you’re welcome, set your phone to the side, and start to dig into your own breakfast. In between her final bites she asks, “What time did you get up?” Even the memory of your alarm going off so early causes you to cringe and take another generous sip of your coffee before answering, “6:30.” Billie must see the discomfort though because she nibbles her lower lip before asking, “Well, did you at least sleep well?”

Her look of concern warms your heart and you assure her with a smile, “I slept great. The bed and everything about it felt amazing.” Her eyebrow arches and lips quirk as she inquires, “And the company you kept? Was it satisfactory?”

Just when you think you've seen Billie's peak confidence; she surpasses that level by 100!

You clear your throat and straighten up a little before attempting to casually counter back, “I’ve had worse bed partners.”

While the comment was primarily a joke you don't miss the flicker in her darkened eyes or the way her grip on her fork tightens at the thought of someone else holding you as if she wants to snatch you close.

However one second she shows that and the next she's back to smirking and purrs, “Well I guess I'll have to up my game then. I don't mind some competition. It only helps to show why I'm the best.”

Her words prompt your mouth to gape and you gasp, “Billie!” She grins at your shock and scoots back to stand up while innocently saying “I guess they should start getting ready then.” Meanwhile you continue to just gawk at her.

When you don’t answer, she smiles even wider and turns to walk back into the bedroom. And as she starts to strut away your boss casually flings her hair over her shoulder while saying, “I'll be ready by 9:25. Don't miss me too much, sweetie.” And with one backward glance and a wink she's gone from your sight…

By 10:00 you have Billie set up with hair and makeup and she speaks to the head photographer about their concepts and ideas for her photoshoot. So you head off to find out about lunch for Billie. The studio space Vogue uses is larger than BuzzFeed and it takes you a moment to orientate yourself, but when you see three long tables with food warmers you are sure this is where you need to be. So you walk over to where two women who seem to be in charge stand.

Even though they face you and you are sure they see you walk up, both women still look down at the tablet one of them holds and taps on.

Maybe they’re finishing something up.

So you pause for a moment and watch them already sensing an air of entitlement with them. After a couple moments of watching them giggle and murmur to each other it's clear they're not on a work project. So you're clear your throat, trying to muster up your confidence, and squeak “Excuse me. I just have a small question.”

The one with beach blonde hair that looks down at the tablet but doesn't hold it lets out a dramatic sigh, looking to you, and the other with dark brown hair continues to scroll on the iPad she holds as she says, “Name.” On the inside you groan knowing it's been a while since you've had difficult clients. But you put on a smile and try to sweetly reply, “Well I don't know if it will be on there because—"

“We didn't ask for your life story. We asked for your name.” The brunette says earning a snicker from the blonde. Heat rises in your cheeks and you have to actively fight to not roll your eyes. While part of you wants to find a corner to hide in until Billie is done, you know showing weakness will make you even more of a doormat for these people to stomp over.

So you stand taller and confidently say your first and last name. That shuts them up for a moment but after a couple of taps, both women look to you with smirks and the blonde says, “Your name isn't on here, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

The use of Billie’s name for you makes your fists clench by your sides and you return a fake smirk back before coldly replying, “it's ok. I guess I'll just tell my boss, Billie Dean Howard I couldn't get her lunch information and she'll have to come here herself since her assistant’s name somehow didn't make the list.” And you begin to walk away, relishing in how their eyes widened at those words.

After going less than five steps one of them calls out, “Wait!” and you pause before slowly turning back around. While both women still look annoyed the brunette says, “There will be a selection of soups, salads, and sandwiches for lunch that she can choose from starting at noon.” You let a sickening sweet smile curve on your lips, and you channel your own confident demeanor when you purr, “Perfect. I'll let her know.”

As you walk away you hear one of them mutter, “Bitch.” But that only makes you smile a little more because even though they called you a name, you got what you wanted. And you can tell already today is a day to celebrate the small victories…

While you aren't allowed to be close to Billie today and get scolded when deemed so you still feel grateful to even see glimpses of her in different outfits, hairstyles, and makeup looks. The way she smiles, how she poses, and her eyes lighting up shows her true enjoyment of being photographed.

Shortly past noon you go back to the lunch table and let out a sigh of relief when the two women you spoke with earlier aren't present. However, that doesn't stop people from cutting you off in line or shoving past you like you're invisible. At first you try to assume it's innocent errors. But by the time you finish gathering her lunch you are fully annoyed at this toxic atmosphere. You're tired and just want to hideaway in the hotel.

However, as you walk up to your boss and see her laughing and speaking with the photographer you know this is a moment to shove your feelings down. If she sees you upset, she'll know something is wrong and this is the time for her to enjoy the moment.

So you take a deep breath roll shoulders back and put on a small smile to deliver her lunch. However the blonde from earlier steps in front of you and sneers, “You can't be back here.” The unexpected run-in makes your eyebrows flatten in annoyance and you retort, “I'm giving Billie her lunch.” She looks you over for a moment before holding out her arms and groaning, “Well, just hand it to me and I'll take it to her.”

Are you fucking kidding?! That’s so dumb! How are you not allowed to—ok, deep breaths. It’s just lunch. It’s not the end of the world.

On one hand you want to resist and insist on taking it to her yourself. But you also don't want to cause a scene and feel too tired to fire back a response. So you hand off the items with a lowered get gaze in clenched jaw. And as you walk away and feel your shoulders slumping you remind yourself it's less than four hours left here. You can make it through the time…

By 3:30 you are on your fourth cup of coffee and Billie is getting her hair brushed out and makeup removed. After checking to make sure the coast is clear and she doesn’t speak to anyone, you rush up to her. And when you smell her sweet jasmine and vanilla scent your eyes gloss up at missing her. It's like you didn't realize how much you missed her until now that you're close and can meet her warm brown eyes and you find your voice wavering as you ask, “What would you like me to order for dinner tonight?”

Right away the mediums brows furrow at your thick voice and she asks, “Are you ok, honey?” Her concern only makes you feel more emotional, but you clear your throat and nod with the reserved smile.

Of course that's about the time you see the two women who have been on you all day headed your way.

Fuck.

So you look back to Billie and practically plead in the hopes of not getting scolded again, “Or is there a certain type of food you would like?” Her eyes narrow for a split second at your behavior, however she knows you are a private person. So she tries to casually reply, “I'm…fine just ordering room service when we get back.”

In the process of her answering, your eyes briefly dart over to the women as much as you try not to. And when Billie finishes speaking you make a curt nod and quickly squeak, “Ok. And just as a reminder you have a zoom meeting with your PR manager at 6:00 tonight.” Before the blonde can even utter a thank you, you look down to your rough-looking shoes and say, “That's all . I-I'll let you finish up now.” Then you step away and try to stand tall but feel like the dirt on the bottom of someone shoe.

Billie tilts her head in confusion at your unfamiliar behavior but gets pulled back to reality when one of the head staff members rushes up while saying, “I'm terribly sorry for the interruption Miss Howard. I've been trying to explain to your assistant that she doesn't need to keep bothering you. She must be new or something.”

That's when things start to click into place and Billie realizes how absent you've been from her today. She tries to shrug it off by saying with her usual smile, “I don't really mind she's always so...”

However her words trail off when she sees one of the staff members reprimanding you with her arms crossed across her chest and speaking loud enough for Billie to hear,

“Who do you think you are walking around anywhere you would like? You're an assistant. So just find some little corner to do your work in and stay out of our way.” You clench your fists by your sides and open your mouth to say something back, but after reminding yourself that to some this is how assistants are and not wanting to expose your personal relationship with Billie you let out a sigh of defeat and answer with a clenched jaw and bowed head, “Fine.”

Meanwhile your boss is both horrified and furious at what just played out in front of her. Has this been going on all day? How could she let this happen?!

Her inner rage is interrupted by the hair stylist saying, “Oh shit, did I just yank your hair too hard Miss Howard? I was trying to be gentle, but I noticed your grip on the chair arms tightened.” It’s only then she realizes her own jaw is clenched and her nails do dig into the leather of the arms.

So she makes herself relax a little and assures them, “No you're fine, honey. I just had my mind on...other things.” However she does turn to the woman who just apologized about you and says with an icy tone, “There’s no need to apologize. I told my assistant to keep me updated on my day. Is that a problem?”

The brunette that has held the tablet in her hands all day now has wide eyes and shakes her head while sputtering, “Well—I—no—”

“Good.” Billie cuts her off and continues in a stern tone, “If you have any problems with her, you come to me. Am I clear?” She stutters out a quick yes and another apology before running off.

After that heated exchange, the medium flicks her fingers in her desire to have a cigarette, but she forces herself to relax as the crew finishes unpinning her hair and removing her makeup. She'll ask you about it on the way home...

You feel Billie's eyes on you as you look out the car window and fiddle with your thumbs. But you don't look to her. It's been a long day and you feel completely and utterly drained. In fact you're sure that if you closed your eyes for longer than 10 seconds you would fall asleep.

However you do perk up a little when your employer puts up her car window. She must have thrown out her cigarette. Then she says in her warm, honey voice, “I saw you being mistreated earlier... at the photo shoot.”

Her voice isn't the usual suave, confident tone and you look down to your lap so you can sneak a glance in her direction out of the corner of your eye.

Billie is turned to face you but stays quiet to allow space for you to speak. You keep your eyes down on your hands in your lap and respond, “It's nothing to be concerned about. Sometimes workdays are just like that. I'm more tired than anything else.”

If it were anyone else, they would likely just say ‘ok’ and move on. But this is Billie and she knows you better than that. She lowly says your name and you finally make yourself turn your face to make direct eye contact.

There's no smug tilt of her lips or raised brow. Rather the medium’s lips curve downward, and her eyes have a warm, molasses color that you can nearly taste the sweetness of. You have rarely seen her look so distraught and once you make eye contact, she says, “I'm sorry I didn't notice earlier.”

Immediately you're filled with guilt and you shake your head. Before you’re fully conscious of it, you take her hand and give it a squeeze while reassuring “Billie you have nothing to be sorry for. Some people are difficult but at the end of the day they won't see me again and they're probably projecting their own self-consciousness onto me.”

The blonde looks down to where your hands join, and she runs her thumb over the top of your knuckles as she says “But you shouldn't have to put up with that and I'm sorry you have to. It hurts me to see you being mistreated like that because I-I—”

Love you too much.

Billie cuts herself off before she can speak those powerful words. Where did that come from? She doesn't not love you. But is she willing to open a door that can't be shut once opened?

That's when the medium notices your eyes rapidly scanning her face and your brows wrinkled so she clears her throat and finishes, “I- I care about you so much. Not that I don't think you can't handle tough workdays, but—you just, you deserve the best, y/n.”

Did Billie Dean Howard just stumble over her words to articulate her care for you? Yes. Yes, she did.

You can't help but smile at her unusually vulnerable demeanor and reply, “Well I appreciate your words. That means a lot to me Billie.” You both look to each other for a moment and it finally feels like the weight of the day is starting to roll off of you.

After a moment you break eye contact but keep your hand in hers as you pull out your phone and say, “I saw that they had a variety of pizzas on the room service menu including your favorite—meat lover’s. Would that interest you?”

Your boss gets that familiar grin that sends butterflies to your stomach and replies with a wink, “That sounds perfect sweetheart.” You go ahead and place the order now so that there will be a hot and fresh pizza waiting for you both in her hotel room...

One meat lover’s pizza later, you are barefaced and changed into a matching set of sweatpants and sweatshirt for bed, sitting in one of the lounge chairs next to the windows overlooking the city.

Billie still wears her clothes, sans her heels, and sits on the bed leaning back against the mountain of pillows the hotel staff so meticulously positioned back against the headboard. Her legs extend in front of her with her ankles crossed and she looks to the screen of her laptop resting on her thighs as she listens to her new PR manager.

In an effort to prevent distracting her and to keep quiet since you technically should be in ‘your room,’ you curl up with a blanket and read your book. At the same time, you halfway listen to her PR manager explaining, “Tomorrow morning at 9:00 you will be interviewed by Savannah and Hoda on the Today Show. Now that's their prime-time slot...”

Between the ambient city sounds, Billie’s soft voice when she asks a question or affirms something, and your own fatigue, as you run your eyes down the novel’s page you find your eyelids getting heavier and heavier until they can't stay open.

Of course the medium notices you nodding off until you finally fall asleep and smiles at how hard you fought to keep your eyes open. However she also realizes she hasn't seen you crash like that since she made love to you on the kitchen counter. You're always up before her, keeping track of her even when she takes breaks, and more often than not you're asleep after she is. Yet you never complain or make a big deal out of it.

“Miss Howard? Is something wrong?”

Brings Billie back to reality and her eyes snap back to her computer screen to see the PR manager with furrowed brows. The blonde clears her throat and her eyes flick back up to peek at your sleeping figure before she puts on her practiced smile and looks to the computer screen. “No sorry. Just worn out from the day's activities.” She responds, telling a half-truth. They smile and nod in understanding before assuring, “Well I'm just about done so I'll be quick.”

As the PR manager rambles on Billie does her best to pay attention, but they don't speak to her like you do.

You put so much thought into your advice, watching and observing her, always taking notes about possible blind spots. And you do everything in your power to prevent those from showing up in public spaces or interviews. Whereas they give obvious suggestions. But if it gets the TV producers off of her back she'll grin and bear it. In the meantime, the blonde sneaks glances at your huddled up sleeping figure and tries to memorize every minute detail.

When the PR manager ends the video call, she shuts her laptop and you shift to get more comfortable, resulting in the book that was precariously held in your hand falling to the floor. But the noise has no effect on you except you wrap your now free arm around yourself and let out a deep sigh as you settle further into the chair.

Billie sits up and sets her laptop on the side table before uncrossing her legs and sliding off the bed. Then her slender feet pad against the luxe carpet to where you sleep.

First she bends down to pick up your splayed out book and properly places it on the coffee table nearby. When the medium stands back up, she looks down at your serious sleeping expression.

Without thinking one of her hands comes up to cup your cheek and she watches the corner of your lips twitch and your eyes roam beneath your closed lids. There are moments when Billie swears she can read your mind like a book. However then there are moments like now when she wishes that she could just get a glimpse of the complex galaxy of your thoughts and experiences.

As usual your skin is cool to the touch, so the warmth of her flesh against yours prompts you to nuzzle into her hand even in your sleep. Billie lets out of soft chuckle at the movement and brushes her thumb along the peak of your cheekbone in a soothing manner as she whispers, “Do you even realize how special you are y/n? You're so precious to me sweetheart. So, so precious.”

Of course you don't hear any of that but a small smile forms on your lips at the feeling of her thumb and she's more than ready to advance from caressing your face to holding you close in bed.

So she glides the palm of her hand from the apple of your cheek, down the column of your throat, to your shoulder and gives you a small shake while murmuring, “Y/n, darling?”

Her low, velvety voice pulls you out of your slumber and you inhale deeply, unintentionally filling your nose with her sweet scent. Then you slowly open your eyes while rasping, “Hmm?” Billie chuckles at your groggy response and moves to lightly scratch your shoulder with her smooth, rounded nails while softly suggesting, “How about we get you in bed?”

At this point you're awake enough to yawn and make a big stretch as much as your seated position will allow. But your brain is still too foggy to speak so you merely nod.

Billie goes to take her hand away, however in your sleepy daze you reach out and take it, knitting your fingers with hers before standing up. The blonde's eyes widen at your instigated touch, but you don't notice her changed expression—too focused on gathering your blanket in your other hand. And when you do have it gathered you skip looking to her face for instruction. Rather you begin to walk and she follows suit.

Once you sit on the edge of the king-sized bed you keep ahold of Billie's hand and ask, “You're coming to bed too, right?”

Her heart melts at the hopeful twinkle in your eyes and for a moment Billie is overcome with so much joy her eyes glass up. However she reins herself in and puts on her well-practiced smirk, attempting to effortlessly reply “After I've changed out of my clothes I will. Ok?”

You don’t want her to leave your side. And in your state of fatigue, a little whine escapes your throat. But you reluctantly unwind your fingers from hers and answer, “Ok.” Then she helps you pull back the covers to lay down. After you’re laid back on the firm, yet pliable mattress, you let out a lethargic sigh and say in a small voice, “Billie I have a question.”

The blonde tucks the covers around you and leans down to peck your lips before replying with a smile, “Fire when ready.”

You smile at her phrase and now that you’re all warm and cozy, your eyelids begin to feel heavy. So ask with the lowered gaze, “Could you hand me my phone so I can set my alarm please?” You force yourself to wake up enough to you look back at her chocolate brown eyes she pecks the tip of your nose before purring, “I would be happy to, honey.”

After bringing your phone over, Billie goes to the bathroom to change and you use every last ounce of your willpower to stay awake until she comes out with the same light coral negligee on that reminds you of creamsicle ice cream and her hair brushed out.

First, she flips the lights off leaving you shrouded in darkness. You feel the duvet lift and her weight shift the mattress as she climbs into bed. And when you sense her close to you, you roll over and wrap an arm around her middle while intertwining one of your legs with hers. Only then do you mumble into the bend of her neck, “This is ok-right?”

The medium chuckles at your ability to be so bold one second and so timid the next. But her hands slide up your back to hug you close to her chest as she whispers, “This is perfect.” Thank goodness.

You nuzzle into her silky locks, let out a contented sigh, and whisper, “Good.” Within minutes you're fast asleep in her warm, comforting embrace.

Billie listens to your deep breaths and absentmindedly strokes her fingers up and down your spine as she tries to navigate her feelings for you. However, the more she thinks about it the more her thoughts spiral out of control. So for tonight she lets the steady stream of your breaths lull her to sleep, relishing in the present moment with you in her arms and letting the future worry about itself.

Tagged: @marilynroselleprentiss, @saviorinsilk, @chokemepaulson, @versonstar, @find-me-a-constellation, @cordwliagoode, @psychobitchtess, @midnight-lestrange, @mysweetdelia, @venablesbitch, @peachesandlesbians, @nerdaroo, @cordeliafoxxe, @leskaksel, @lovelymspaulson, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @whatabluddymess, @natasha-danvers, @saucy-sapphic, @marvelfansince08love, @wilheminawinters, @dontsblameme, @mssallymckenna, @myheadmistress

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in later works!

Part 7

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dasphinxone · 4 years

Text

Book of Nile: Cabin Fever WIP

Or again, https://sphinx81.tumblr.com/post/630376674912043008/cabin-fever-a-book-of-nile-mood-board-or-that-one

that one time the whole team sets up Booker and Nile to purposely get snowed in alone together at a fancy cabin safehouse after a stupid-easy mission. Because the rest of the team is tired of these two pining after each other. And Jesus Christ on high, JUST HOOK UP ALREADY.

“Oh okay…WOW,” Nile exclaims when she finds her way into the single bedroom of the cabin.

It causes Booker to rush into the room at her noise. His gaze darts around only to relax at seeing no threat. It’s just Nile standing there leaning against the wrought iron frame at the foot of the bed. She doesn’t miss how he tucks his gun back into the back of his waistband. He’s always like this with her, ready to defend at a moment’s notice.

He sheepishly shrugs. “You sounded distressed. What do you need?” “Nothing,” Nile draws out. “Just, uh, well…there’s one bed. Not that we haven’t shared before,” she swiftly tries to casually add. Booker purses his lips. He refuses to look at her, instead staring with narrowed eyes at the queen sized bed sitting under the triangular window at the head of the room. Its view affords them an admittedly charming vision of the falling snow and low light of the evening’s setting sun.

He finally replies, albeit with a low and slow muttering of, “That’s when the others are…around.”

“So what?” She hopes she sounds nonchalant. Because he’s right.

It’s fine to share a bed because it’s cramped since their safehouses rarely have enough individual bedrooms. Or they share because she’s not in the mood to freeze to death in a safehouse that lacks central heating.It gets even worse when they can’t light a fire for fear of discovery. Or that the whole moldering place will go up in flames. Nile personally has never burned to death. Yet judging by the others’ insistence at sometimes not having an open flame, she’s in no mood to add it to her list of deaths.

She is well aware he runs so wonderfully warm that it makes him a solid mass of heat to wrap herself around. She’ll take that over waking up on fire any day of the week and then some

Four other people sleeping around them also cranks down tension. Hell, it almost makes her forget she’s sleeping all up against a nearly 6’2" slab of ruggedly handsome, muscled Frenchman. Someone who’s been deliberate in his efforts to make amends for the last three-quarters of a century since he’s been back from his exile.

They always end up waking up wrapped around each other. Funnily enough, he never seems to mind nor comment. It doesn’t even get awkward when she quietly slides out of bed and tucks him back in due to a being an early riser. Because she knows how much he prefers to sleep in. It also helps her mostly ignore how he automatically rolls over into her newly vacant space in the bed and tugs her pillow closer to him to sleep on. This cabin though? It screams romance. A long weekend away for a couple to get down and dirty. Booker swallows as he mutters, “I’ll sleep on the couch.” “There aren’t any,” Nile retorts, taking her luggage from him. “Just the loveseat with the two chairs in the living room. No way you’re squeezing into any of that comfortably.” “The floor then,” Booker huffs. Nile lets out a barely audible breath. “Again, we’ve shared beds hundreds of times over the decades.” “You sure?” “Take the right side of the bed and closest to the door. Like you always do, Book,” she waves at that side. ”Unless you really are that uncomfortable?” she quickly adds. She has no desire to force him into anything that sets off his boundaries. He’s always affording her the same in return. “I get it, no problem,” she murmurs. He slowly shrugs, appreciating how she gives him an out. “Okay…the right side…oui. That works.” He hears her sigh of relief. Did she really not mind him sleeping next to her in when there weren’t others around to serve as a buffer? Not that he would ever touch her without permission. It’s just that she’s not giving him any sign that she’s uncomfortable with just him for company. Then again, she really would have put her foot down on not running the mission with him in the first place if she didn’t trust him. She trusts him. He realizes he needs to accept that. After all, he wants the next few days of them being snowed the hell in to pass without him nearly vomiting with the anxiety of her finding out that he loves her. He’ll have to adapt. Like he’s had over the last 75 or so years of constantly being in her dizzying presence. He can do this. He is an adult. He’s died in all sorts of fucked up ways. He’s done missions around the world. He can handle this just fine, damn it. TBC…

#book of nile #booker x nile #nile freeman #Booker #booker le livre #sebastien le livre #the old guard #tog #wip #fanfiction #I should hate this place #because it's been living rent free in my head all damn summer since the movie came out.#oh wells

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nims91 · 4 years

Text

Nathan Drake x Fem-Reader! Pt.2

Takes place in uncharted 2: among thieves, just when Nate and Sully come out from the underground tomb, and chloe runs off only to come back with Flynn and some soldiers.

Nates POV

I watch as Chloe runs ahead to look out for any of Lazarevics men. "You wanna give me a hand, Nate?" Sully calls from below. I turn to him and reach down, helping him out and standing to his feet again. "This way!" I hear a man yell from the distance. "Oh goddamn it." Sully sighs. "C'mon." I say quickly heading for the opening archway. "Harry! In here!" Chloe yells as she enters, having a gun pointed at me. "It's Drake." She yells back to Harry. "What the hell-?" I start to say before she interrupts me. "Get your hands up!" She demands. I shake my head and do as she says. Sully doing the same. "You sure know how to pick 'me." Sully states. "Shut up Sully." I quickly say as Harry and some guards come up behind Chloe. "Should've know it was you." Harry speaks as he comes up to me. His British accent coming through. "And you. Victor 'goddamn' Sullivan. You still dragging this tired old sack of shit around?" He chuckles. I let my hands drop and step up to him. Sully gets in between us. "Easy Nate." He says. My blood was boiling. I glared daggers at him in pure anger. "That's pretty ballsy for a guy who spent the last three months behind bars." Harry states looking from me to Sully. "Better than pissing away three months in the jungle with out a clue." I spat at him in an annoyed tone. He was pissing me off. "Found the ship's, though, didn't I?" He speaks confidently. "You couldn't find your own ass with both hands." I state before Sully jumps in. "And a map." Harry sighs slightly annoyed. "They came from down there." Chloe now says as she comes up to search me. Chloe pulls out the document that leads right to Shambhala. Or the next step at least. "Speaking of maps." Harry cockily says looking at it. "Between India and Tibet... one temple will reveal a-" he slowly reads. "Pathway to Shambhala. Jesus Flynn, while we're young." I finish for him. "Oh now. Dont be such a bad sport." He pouts sarcastically. "Take them to Lazarevic." He folds up the document in his hands. "You're gonna wish you stayed in prison mate." He says before making his way to the opening in the ground. "Move." Chole sternly says. I walk forward, Sully walking beside me. Two guards join us at our sides. "C'mon keep moving." One of the guards shouts, shoving me forward. Then Chloe knocks one of the guards in the head before turning to face the second one who shoots at her, a bullet grazing her arm. Sully quickly grabs his gun before Chloe shoots him then turning to the first guy shooting him. "Ah shit." She says holding her arm. "Are you alright?" I ask walking up to her. "Yeah well, it'll make it look more believable. Now, I'm going to try and buy you some time." Chloe grabs the dagger handing it to me. "Chloe you have to come with us." I state to her. "No." She give me a kiss on the lips. I could just melt into it forever but just at that thought she pulls away. "Just meet me in Nepal. Now run." Chloe states before making her way back to the others. "Let's go." I state and start to run off with Sully. "I like her." He speaks very enthusiastically. "Yeah I bet you do." I shake my head chuckling softly.

We quickly run around the corner before I take a look back. I quickly look in front of me again and stop abruptly seeing a women in front of me. She stops abruptly too stumbling slightly. She looked up at me almost immediately. "Y/n?" I ask in absolute shock. "Nathan, nice to see you too." She spat in an annoyed tone. "Well sorry to cut this reunion short, but I'll be taking this and be on my way." She says in the same tone before quickly grabbing the purba dagger and making her way quickly down the path. "Hey! I shout and run after her. Gun shots ring out and I start to run faster, Y/n still in front of us.

Your POV

You quickly made your way up the path towards the archway you seen about an hour ago from a different spot in the jungle. You looked down slightly at your watch before you quickly looked back up almost to run into someone. You look up immediately at the face and smirked, chuckling sarcastically. "Nathan, nice to see you too." You voice dripping with annoyance. "Well sorry to cut this reunion short, but I'll be taking this and be on my way." You speak in the same annoyed tone before running down the path you just came from. You heard Nate call out to you but didnt look back. They started running as gun shots rung out. You could see the small gap up ahead with nowhere else to go. "Adios asshole." You yell back at him before jumping of the cliff and into the water.

You panted hard as you pulled yourself onto land still having the purba dagger. You panted hard. Not a second later the sound of water splash was heard. You look over to see the two men crawling out of the river. You were not impressed. "So now your following me?" You scoff and shake your head. "Y/n, what the hell are you doing here alive?" Nate asks you, as he walks up to you. "Searching for Shambhala." You state. "But I watched you die. I watched you get shot." He shakes his head. "Well after that doctors patched me up. Then I escaped, about 3 months ago, giver take." You explain coldly. "Why didnt you come back for me or sam?" You ask sadly. He looks up to you and shakes his head. "What do you mean? I checked everywhere. Everyone said you were dead." He confessed. "Well they told me you hated me and never wanted to see again. That I was worthless to you. Every single day for around the past 10ish years." You shout slightly. He sighs and shakes his head. He stops and looks at you. "Is Sam alive?" He asks. "I dont know. After the attempt we pulled escaping and killing Vargus, Most of my time was spent in the hole. Only got to go out when everyone was in their cell. Didnt see anyone." You sigh. You then start to walk away. "Hey hey hey, where are you going?" Nate asks. "To go to Tibet and find Shambhala." You state. "So that's it. This is all were gonna talk about?" He runs up to you. "What's there to talk about?" You got two girls tied to your hip. Chloe and Elena, was it?" You ask cockily and annoyed. "Wait you dont understand.." Nate try's to says. "Oh I understand it all, hotel security is always a joy." You says. Nate slightly freezes knowing now that you seen him in Chloe back at the beach. "Look Nate. I dont wanna be made at you but, I am, okay." You say. "Now I'll shall head on my way.

The journey continues. You went to Tibet. Ran into Nate again. Decided to team up. Run into Elena. Then go rescue Chloe. Almost die on a train, multiple times. Finally get to the steps of Shambhala and have to run for your lives. You get to the temple and see the supposedly, chintamani stone. It was magnificent. "Wait this isnt sapphire. Its resin." Nate states. I look at him confused then around the temple to see a tree. "You've got to be kidding me." I state walking to the other side of the temple. "Y/n!" Nate yells and sighs "It's not a sapphire. It's a metaphor. That's the chintamani stone." You point to this humorous tree. You shake you head and sigh walking back into the temple. You look and see Harry limping, holding a grenade. You stopped in you tracks not wanting to have him pull that pin. You were to focused on the grenade to here them speak. You watched as he pulled the pin. You gasped and went to retreat only to feeling unimaginable pain run through your entire body. Everything was fuzzy, from words to sight to speaking. You feel your body being pulled up and lean against someone you imagine is Chloe. "I have to end this." Nates voice rings in your ear. "No you cant." You wince. "I just only got you back. I cant loose you again." You state before he gave you a kiss on the head. "I'll come back I promise. Chloe get her out of here." You whimpered and hissed at the pain before crying slightly. "C'mon deary, you can do it." Chloe encourages you.

You dont know when and how but somehow you showed up at the steps of Shambhala. She rests you down on a slab of rock and sighs. You let out another whimper. "I know I know, it'll be all over soon." Chloe speaks. Your drifting in and out of consciousness. Your open your eyes and see Nate, but a blurry version of him. Hes talking to Chloe and then looking at you and then too Chloe. "Its alright. Your gonna be alright. Your good, alright." Nate says as he combs your hair back to perfect. You finally close your eyes and darkness consumes you.

Days and days would go by as you laid there in bed. Some days were worst then others. Especially when you had to get the shards of the grenade out that was embedded in you skin. Soon as days went by, you got better. You sighed as you sat up wincing slightly. You stood up and put on some clothes before heading to the door. Sully stepped in front of you before you got outside. "Sully, I swear if you dont let me outside, I will shoot you in the leg." You chuckled and he shook his head. "Fine." You linked your arm with his as he helped you down the steps and towards Nathan. He turned to you and smiled brightly. "Shes one hell of a patient." Sully spoke making you chuckle. You switched arms from Sully to Nate. "Ah which way did Chloe go." He asked. Nate shook his head as he pointed in the direction. "Your a dirty old man Sully." You yelled out to him. You and Nate then started walking towards the grass patch under a tree that showed a beautiful veiw. "So about that vacation?" You asked. "We're still going to do it." He looks at you. "Mmhm sure." You smiled. "I promise." He spoke softly making you face him. "You better." You smirk and he sighs in defeat. "Come here." He shakes his head as he pulls you into a passionate kiss. You smile into the kiss and when he breaks off, you rest your head on his shoulder. "So on a scale of one to ten, how scared were you that I was gonna die." You asked. "A three." He spoke blankly. "A three?" You ask and he nods. "You were so an eight." You chuckled. "An eight, those guardian things were an eight." He confesses. "Then what's a 10?" You asked him shocked. "Clowns." You scoffed and shook your head. "Clowns, over my death?" You ask. "Wow" he smiles. "Ok I'll give you a four." He gives in a little. "You though I was gonna die." You say. "No I didnt." You smile now. "Yes you were bawling." You chuckle. "I was not. Its was raining, you were unconscious." He defends. "It was sunny and you were crying. I have your tears in a jar." You state. You both laugh and smile as you watch the sunrise.

This is part one if you havent read that yet. I suggest you read it first.

#nadine ross #chloe frazer #elena fisher #sam drake #nathan drake #oneshots #x reader #uncharted 4 #uncharted #uncharted 2

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newcaptainofsquad9 · 5 years

Text

Oh My God, We’re Roommates!~Kate x fem reader (Tanner Hall)~College AU-Part 4

Here’s Part 1: https://newcaptainofsquad9.tumblr.com/post/185364926637/oh-my-god-were-roommates-kate-x-fem-reader

Part 2: https://newcaptainofsquad9.tumblr.com/post/185523942072/oh-my-god-were-roommates-kate-x-fem-reader?is_related_post=1

Part 3: https://newcaptainofsquad9.tumblr.com/post/185671804367/oh-my-god-were-roommates-kate-x-fem-reader?is_related_post=1

Pairing: Kate x reader

Summary: After dropping the L bomb on Kate, you flee to your best friends Jane and Robb for advice, while trying to avoid Kate at all costs. You can only avoid her for so long before returning to your shared bedroom, where you nervously try to function without bringing up your feelings or that previous awkward moment.

Word Count: 1, 355

Writer’s Note: Ok, I see how ya’ll reacted to part 3 and one, I’m thankful that all of you folks are invested and, two the reception to this has really gotten me hype to do another fic series. Maybe with *ahem* Natalie aka Envy Adams or even Brie Larson herself (not sure, writing about celebrities is sorta weird, a reason I haven’t done it much--let me know what y’all think, then I’ll decide).

Warinings: None! Just a lot of angst and doubt. The usual with this reader lol.

_________________________________________________________ ____

The cool breeze managed to calm me down a little as I ride all the way across campus to the suites. I shot Jane a text, but was too fed up to look at it yet. Why would I even say something that stupid? Kate obviously only wanted a morning of fun nothing more and I should have seen that--I should press my breaks before I run into a car again. I was super lucky it happened to be the principal’s car and she was super cool with it. Also I was lucky that I didn’t dent her car that much.

...

Jane answers the door after a few knocks, eyes wide with concern.

“Jesus, did you just ride your bike here in PJs?” she asks.

I nod, duck under her arm and collapse on her bed.

“You think we could trade roommates?” I groan.

Jane gives me a pitiful look and lays next to me.

“I would Y/NN, but I think I’d end up giving Kate a piece of my mind. Did you bring up your feelings before?” Jane asks.

“No,” I say into her fluffy stuffed lion, “she flirted with me a lot and kissed me back even also--”

Jane pulls me away from her stuffed friend, a mega watt grin.

“How far did you guys get?” she wriggles her eyebrows, clearly forgetting the state I’m in right now.

“We didn’t get that far, but that’s--that’s not the point!” I mumble, “just, make me forget about her.”

Jane giggles.

“Look, Y/N I might be into girls and guys too but you’re my best friend--”

I cut off her stupid joke with a death glare immediately.

“Ok! Ok! In all seriousness, you need to get out of your stump! How about we meet Robb at Wackner’s dinning hall, all you can eat pancakes,” Jane suggests.

I cringe at her words.

“Why pancakes? That’s what Kate ate yesterday,” I groan.

Jane sighs, grabs my wrist firmly and pulls me up into a sitting position with her.

“All right! Enough about Kate, Y/N. Let’s get you some food and potentially a new person to think about,” Jane says as she hooks her arm around my own, forcing me up from the bed.

“Can I get waffles instead of pancakes?” I hopelessly ask.

Jane nods sharply.

“Bet your ass you can,” Jane vows.

...

The line to get hot and ready breakfast food reached to the middle of the hall. Everyone who got their food already is either sitting at one of the long tables, or excusing themselves by someone who’s in line. Jane and I stand there for fifteen minutes until we get our meal and start toward the row of tables on the right side of the dinning hall.

“Y/N, Jane! Over here!”

I jerk my head over to Robb, screaming over the room as always. I didn’t miss it during the break, but now it’s endearing. I used to have a crush on Robb and his black, slick back hair. I decided to back off once he and Jane were a thing during freshmen year, but they mutually decided to stay friends. It meant I didn’t have to be a third wheel anymore and not be a shoulder to cry on for Jane if they had problems. Of course Robb had his friend group as well, but we’d talk about comics and video games for hours in the cafe.

“How was your trip back?” Robb asks while taking one of Jane’s tator tots.

“It was all right,” I say, while trying not to mention Kate, “managed to get my parents not to cry when they left.”

Robb chuckles and nudges Jane.

“Is that really all?” he asks lowly.

“Nope,” Jane replies.

“Hey!” I protest, “I can hear you!”

Jane blinks and sets her plate on the table before sitting. Robb and I follow suit.

“Aw, c’mon what’s up?” Robb asks, “let me guess, it’s girl trouble?”

I put my face in my hands as Jane nods slowly.

“That’s about right. Y/N does have trouble, with a certain girl--she likes,” Jane explains.

Robb turns to me with a mildly shocked expression.

“Oh, well who is she?” he asks.

“My roommate,” I groan.

Robb grins.

“Well, most of the work is done for you, depends if you make the first move or not--ow!” Robb yelps, Jane stomping on his foot.

“Not the issue, Robb!” she scolds, “Y/N just needs to lighten up and it’s our job to help her, right?”

Robb reaches down to rub his foot, but not before stealing a quick glance at me.

“Right,” he agrees, “if you’d like we could all go to this small get-together with a buddy of mine.”

“Really? What’s his major?” Jane asks.

I get lost in my own plate of food until a guy comes up to Robb.

“Robb, hey man!”

I nearly choke on my bacon as Dave and Robb do a quick embrace and a handshake.

“Dave, hey. Sorry I couldn’t make it to the party last night, how was it?”

I drop my bacon and place my hand over my forehead. God, I can’t be here. Not in front of him.

“Jane, Robb--I’ll catch you guys later,” I let out.

“Y/N,” Jane starts but I’m already up and moving toward the exit.

...

It’s a school night, which means tomorrow morning I’ll have class to distract myself from Kate. It also gives me an excuse not to be in our room most of the time. I traded this mornings pajamas with a simple tank top and sweats and take my place on my bed with a book. My mind needs to be refreshed before classes start back up. Kate steps through the door an hour later, forcing my heart to leap up my throat.

“Y/N,” she says with a sigh, “are you all right?”

I nod, close my book and rise from my bed.

“Fine,” I mumble while slipping on my shoes.

I can’t be here, not right now.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

“To Starbucks, I need a latte to finish this book,” I say.

Kate steps over to me and places a hand on my wrist.

“Y/N, wait--let me come with you,” she says.

“No, Kate, I can go alone,” I retort.

“Y/N,” she says more firmly, “look at me.”

I keep my eyes down at my feet as Kate tries again.

“Please, Y/N,” she whispers, “say something.”

“I-I made a complete fool of myself, didn’t I?” I ask.

Kate raises an eyebrow.

“Why would you--”

“I didn’t mean too--I didn’t mean to say what I said, I know you’re into Dave and,” I cut myself off as a sob escaped my lips.

“What, Dave? I’m not into him anymore,” Kate says.

“You aren’t into me either,” I let out, “God I’m so stupid.”

Kate frowns and puts a hand on my cheek.

“You aren’t stupid Y/N, but what you’re saying isn’t very bright,” Kate states.

“Wha--”

Kate pulls me against her, wiping the tears and stray hair from my face before giving me a passionate kiss. I melt into her, returning the kiss. My hands find her chest and she smiles. This isn’t right. It feels so right, but I need answers. I push Kate away.

“Do you like me?” I flat out ask.

Kate nods.

“I may not love you as much as you love me, but Y/N I care about you,” Kate admits, “I want you.”

I try to hide my blush at her words. Think with your head, not your lady parts Y/N.

“We’re going to take this slow then,” I say, “no more bed stuff at least until we’ve dated and gotten to know each other a little.”

Kate groans but finally nods.

“Fine, but can we do this?”

I lean my head up at her question and her lips are on mine again. My arms find themselves around her neck while she holds me close by the waist. Her hand moves lower, but I catch it quickly. I can keep this at a make-out. Not too heated as long as I keep my head straight.

#Brie Larson #brie larson x reader #brie larson x you #Tanner Hall #tanner hall imagine #brie larson imagine #college au #fanfiction #AU fanfiction #kate x reader #wlw fic #fic series

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shidiand · 5 years

Note

How do you imagine Tenco's Story ending in your head?

that is a GREAT but UNEXPECTED QUESTION freshlybaked "spider" bread and i'm really happy to have the opportunity to try and answer this ageless question that has burned within all of us in the tenco's story iv waiting room community since 2013. it is an incredible coincidence (or is it? 👀) that i was just talking to Risa about tenco's this (edit: yesterday) morning so i am extra double super in the mood to talk about Tenco's Story today. so excellent of a coincidence is this that i am tempted to refer you to them in case you wanted to hear their thoughts on the matter that would probably turn out super cool, but that is neither here nor there; let us talk Tenco's Story.

i of course must mention my unadvertised and modestly detailed commentary on tenco's i-iii at https://shidiand.tumblr.com/tencos, presenting slightly interesting facts in an unwieldy and difficult-to-use format, but as it dates back to june 2017, i want to take some time to understand my feelings about the series once more.

tenco's story is a series that has a lot of meaning to me.

i took on my current name of shidiand in november of 2013. i was still in 11th grade at the time, 4th year of high school, and a very socially isolated person. i should say i was introduced to touhou in 7th grade, 2010, so i was still working through a 3 years-strong phase of trying to simultaneously both find an outlet for and bottle up an endless wellspring of awkward weeaboo-gamer nerd energy at the time.

i had my first real foray onto the internet in 2010, tried out twitter, followed some RPers and other people who had Cool Touhou Usernames. didn't really go anywhere. i had maybe 50 followers, i dont really know the count but it was definitely a) double digits and b) pretty low. didn't know what to tweet about. didn't know how to hit it off with others. i think there was basically maybe only 3 other people i ever properly interacted with. oh shit i was playing league of legends at the time. oh my god. i really did play league of .. oh my god. let's move on.

aw shit im super digressing amn't i. well.

this is just how it goes when i write essays on tumblr.com.

i'm afraid you're just along for the ride at this point so please do your best to enjoy it.

i got kind of tired of twitter at the time because i didnt know what to do with it. didnt know how to interact with people and didnt find the people i was following interesting, so i ghosted on out of there by the end of 2012. didnt deactivate it until like 2015 but at that point that was just burning away my dark history. anyways. november 2013.

--im taking a lot of time here trawling through old files on my computer, my tumblr blog, notification emails still lying around in my gmail inbox from twitter, the dropbox i didn't actually use but it had several tenco's story pictures on it but i deleted them so this was useless, ... to trace the timeline of this story and im really seeing a lot of remnants of dark history here you know? did you know i wrote a letter to a girl i had a crush on valentine's day 2014, slipped it into her locker, and anxiously hung around nearby at lunchtime to see how she reacted at lunchtime? i certainly didn't, or at least i made darn ass sure to forget about this incredible virgin incident and not remember it, ever, until i came across the records of it that i thoughtfully preserved for the me of 5 years later today. ok well now i have to read the letter to see if it was as bad as it just sounded there brb

ok so the good news is that it was actually very focused on being positive and full of admiration for the cool things she did instead of being a confession letter so i am very glad i was able to be a respectful chad 5 years ago, but the bad news is that the jokes, the actual sentences i put together. oh my god. but i mean. well. at least i got the spirit. its certainly a step up from this other person in my grade, WEEABOO ANDREW, YOU MAY RECALL THIS STORY AND HIS NAME FROM PREVIOUS STORYTIMES, THE MAN THE MYTH THE LEGEND who came to school on halloween once cosplaying kirito from sword art online and got very possessive about people asking if they could hold his black replica plastic sword, and probably worse, dropped a "will you be my girlfriend" letter into the locker of my homie and fellow trombonist samantha, who was a little bit nerdy, hung out with the anime-likers who were actually sociable and fun to be around so you can imagine why weeaboo andrew was into her, which had i) a direct quotation from SAO chapter 16.5 (origin of the famous "glopping noise" line), and ii) a condom. jesus christ. i dont want to talk about this any more. next topic.

i also put this drawing of iku nagae and her skarmory (actually an albinoss from 18 DRAGONS) on the other side of the letter because it was the coolest thing i could think of drawing at the time. and i completely agree with 2014 me because it IS super fucking cool. hell fuckin yeah

https://shidiand.tumblr.com/post/76301993387/iku-nagae-ft-that-thing-that-supposedly-is-a

alright that was a fun little trip down memory lane but lets get back on track. november 2013. i started anew as shidiand. still awkward, still learning how to express myself and looking for my place among others. i followed some touhou bloggers, hung around r/touhou a lot as well. in december i got my first tablet for christmas, a wacom bamboo splash. i still use this thing! the usb cable disconnects if you bump it so i have to find just the perfect position to sit in whenever i want to draw, but its served me well. anyways. i was just starting to play around with digital art but i remember, probably just before new years, for some reason i wanted to find out more about tenshi hinanawi (i don't remember why. tenshi wasn't even one of my favourite characters at the time) so i went googling and right there on zerochan i found this:

https://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=23525572

this was during my dark souls phase so i just went BANANAS at the sight of this. this was literally the coolest image i had ever seen in my internet life. That image alone made me want to draw in hopes that I could make something as cool as that someday.

it wasn't immediately after but i soon discovered tenco's story, and it was love. kannnu was my very first artistic inspiration, and for a long time, my only one. i absolutely idolized them at the time. since then, ive found other artists to look up to, in a more healthy manner, but to this day i still look up to kannnu, still admire their work a lot.

i played around with drawing, followed the lives of people on tumblr, started reading touhou fanfiction, made a new twitter. i met a lot of new people along the way. some people i havent stuck with, some i cut ties with, and some people i still keep in contact with today. over those long 5 years of being shidiand, i found a name (i used to use shidian and then shid, but someone called me shidi once and i realized that was a lot better), how to reach out to others, how to express myself, places that i could feel included in. this is why i owe a blood debt to evelyn, who permitted me to kneel at her throne and was like "yea ok you can join my discord server u seem cool". evelyn, if you were confused by me ominously mentioning this blood debt/blood oath in a tumblr reply 1-2 years ago, this is the context. those 5 years were like a coming of age of sorts, that i never had when i was in high school.

and my love for tenco's story, that inspired me to draw that day, has been with me since almost the very beginning of my time as shidiand. from the beginning, i have always encouraged people to READ TENCO'S STORY, like the kin of those who cry PLAY MELTY or WATCH SYMPHOGEAR. i think my very first sidebar description was something akin to a prayer, written in very choral language, hoping for the day tenco's story iv was completed, ..., "meanwhile, furious shitposting". kannnu's work, finding delight in whatever they chose to draw, has been at my side, all along. my true mentor, my guiding moonlight...

so that's why i still to this day love tenco's story so much.

let's talk about tenco's story.

tenco's story is a story told through single pictures. the plot is vague, and details are sparse. dialogue is rare. we only know what has happened; we seldom know why. furthermore, there are many gaps between scenes that the reader is left to fill in for themselves; we see only snapshots that form an hazy outline of the events that occurred, and must imagine the rest. motivations and explanations fail me. but even with a barebones plot, tenco's story has themes, and if nothing else, those have to be carried through.

the main theme, of course, is journey and travel, but there are also other ideas, too. i actually think they start to change as the series goes on:

book i, where tenshi runs away from home, is about striking out on your own. it's a very fun and unpredictable journey, together with a friend.

book ii, where tenshi and iku are separated, forces tenshi to find and rely on companions of her own even more. but they do so, and they are able overcome hardships, and there is food and festival.

book iii marks a climax, reasserting tenshi's goal of finding the sword of hisou. i feel like the journey shifts from a travel (visiting) to a path forwards (making your way through). perhaps this is just something i get from knowing the locations from dark souls (Anor Londo, New Londo Ruins, the Great Hollow), but the locations start to give more of a sense of verticality, like they're emphasizing tenshi's climb to the summit. the hardships and enemies are the greatest they've been yet, and right when they near the top, tenshi and iku start to bleed. the book ends on an uncertain note.

if i had to describe the type of journey and travel that tenshi and iku undertake, there's this sense of wonder at discovering new places, wandering from vista to vista in delight, but also a sense of conquering, making it through a difficult patch. the sequence from pages 2-44 to 2-51, taken together, convey this sense of overcoming the best. it's one of my favourite parts. again, although the tone definitely starts to lean towards struggle in book iii, i think tenco's sense of wonder really is the heart of the series. there's no map of the world, no predicting where tenshi and iku will end up next. and through their travels, though they come across many enemies, they also find friends -- places of refuge, places full of life, people who will look after them for a few days, companions who will stay with them for the rest of the journey. at the end of book iii, we see a long haired tenshi with purple hair being impaled by the sword of hisou (3-33, see also this extra illustration that risa pointed out to me http://sinnnkai.blog.fc2.com/blog-entry-195.html), and regular short haired tenshi continuing on her journey (3-42). if we ignore the out-of-story images where tenshi has the sword of hisou, tenshi has actually only ever used her sunlight blade (2-24, 3-26, etc), so i think that the long haired tenshi on 3-33 is a different person altogether. (if i had to guess, she might be the purple haired woman in the top left of https://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=35443328 as we have never seen that woman appear anywhere.) she probably has something to do with the flashbacks at the end of book ii and she might somehow be short-haired tenshi at the same time, but this is just speculation.

however, in 3-43, tenshi's hair is rather blue, so i don't know if this is the purple haired woman or not. if it is, tenshi is probably still fine and closing in on the summit, but if it isn't, then it's very worrying to see a picture of tenshi without any of her companions. it's very ominous.

meanwhile, iku, while climbing the red carpeted corridor, is stabbed, and disappears for a few pages. there's a black page, a shot of a shrine that strongly resembles the hakurei shrine, and a picture of iku standing behind someone in a tux, with the line "In the past, I was saved by the lady I was serving, you see?". and then iku wakes up in a field of flowers.

i think what this scene makes clear is a theme that has continued to appear and reappear throughout every book of "being saved, being aided by someone's kindness".

i think another theme that is implied and has to be addressed by this story of running away from home is "return". something im imagining is that the reason tenshi makes finding the sword of hisou her goal is because she wants to have something to prove herself with, to vindicate her when she comes home. but i don't think she needs to prove anything, and i ultimately think that she would be happier spending the rest of her life exploring.

so i think this should be what happens in the ending.

open on iku's journey, and give her a long sequence of travel without seeing tenshi. underline her newfound resolve. she climbs to the summit with albinoss, and finds the rest of tenshi's companions fallen. and in the last room is sword of hisou tenshi, who has lost herself, and it comes down to iku to bring her back. after a difficult battle, when both of them are on their last legs, iku is unable to stand any longer. but at this moment tenshi sees her companions struggling to get back up and reach her, and that's what brings her to her senses. and iku gets to see how many friends tenshi's been able to make on her own, and they finally and properly reunite. together, tenshi and iku carry each other out of the last room.

i don't think it's necessary to return to heaven. as a conclusion, dedicate some time to tenshi and iku travelling together. they're on their way back, revisiting old friends who helped them along the way, enjoying the journey. their last stop is the house of the elderly nawis (1-42). tenshi shows off the sword of hisou; she decided to keep it not as a trophy to show her family but as proof of the bonds of her companions. surrounded by friends, tenshi and iku decide to part ways with each other, knowing that the other will be alright. iku drifts among the clouds once more, and tenshi sets off for the horizon.

that's the plot that i'd write/just wrote. i don't really expect tenco's story iv to ever come out, though. i mentioned my first sidebar description earlier in this essay, but of course, you can see that it's been changed. 2 years ago, i read my hopeful prayer once more and was struck with a terrible melancholy, so now it reads this: "having come to terms with the fact that tenco's story iv will never be released, i can still live, knowing that the spirit of the journey will live on through kannnu's original works [...] meanwhile, furious shitposting".

on one level, tenco's story is a story, but in the process of following it, i came to think of the work itself as a journey too. you can constantly see kannnu's improvement between and even within each book. they have always drawn whatever they liked; what plot matters in the face of "I wanted to draw a beautiful sky." "I wanted to draw a fantastic battle." "I wanted to draw Dark Souls and Monster Hunter and Pokemon and Brave Fencer Musashi and Bokura no Taiyou and Touhou."

its not really kannnu's style to go back and tie up old ends. they just draw whatever makes them happy. so as i watch them continue to draw beautiful places and fantastic creatures, new characters heading out on journeys of their own or just enjoying their everyday lives, it's as if tenco's story never ended. the limits and consistency of that world ignored, and a new one springs up; in a way, the world of tenco's, which had such thin boundaries, just gets bigger.

but even so, having said all that, i still see them draw that short-haired tenshi from time to time. it makes me happy to see them remember tenco's story with such fondness. often crossing over with orion or roar or elweiss, you can see tenshi on another journey.

#tenco's story #freshlybakedspiderbread

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silverwing2522 · 6 years

Text

The Bad Girl

https://silverwing2522.tumblr.com/post/182918274056/the-bad-girl - previous chapters.

“Right!”, said Victor clapping and rubbing his hands together “lets get your things!”

“I've already got all my stuff in my bag, here”, Sessa swung her backpack round to show him.

“Everything….”,

“Everything!”

Victor ran a hand through his golden mane and exhaled roughly. “Youre gonna need more stuff than that if youre gonna stay with me! I dont want you stealing any of my clothes!”

“I wouldnt!”, I wouldnt want to, she thought.

“Toothpaste!” Victor called as Sessa stood next to him facing the shop shelves.

“Got!”

“hmm...errr….brush!”

“Got!”

“Shampoo?”

“I've got this 3in1 thing. Shampoo, conditioner and shower gel.”

“How much have you got in it?”

“Decent amount.”

“Well what about clothes?! Because that bag of yours dont look that big! And youre gonna get bigger!” Victor turned to face Sessa. He felt really annoyed by how nonchalant she was being. She couldnt have everything she needed in that bag of hers! It was ridiculous!

“I'm fine for now, if, when i need any more, I'll come back out to the store to get some!” Sessa turned to face Victor, feeling equally annoyed. She just wanted to go somewhere to rest. Victors place was a mess and she was not looking forward to going back there.

“ugh! then what are we doing here?!” Victor complained as he marched out of the shop with Sessa trailing after him.

“You forced me in there! I told you i got everything i need in my bag!”, Sessa told him crossly, quickening her pace to walk along by his side.

“You cannot possibly have everything you need in that!”, he flicked a finger against her bag, causing it to move against her shoulder. Sessa readjusted the position of the strap and glared at him before slumping her shoulders. She was not in any position of power right now. She was pregnant, broke and homeless. She needed him, he didnt need her.

“Can we please go back to your place now! I'm tired and my feet are hurting!”, she complained.

Victor sighed and slumped his shoulders, “Fine! But youre not borrowing any of my things! right?!”

“Right...but i can have food cant i?”

Victor grabbed her hand and marched her back to the store. “I told you you didnt have everything! Did you listen?! No! Now what is it you want?!”

“Just….food! Can we do this some other time? I really dont feel it right-”

“-No! Now! I'm not coming out again for you! Here! Have a basket and off you go” Victor interrupted.

“Can you carry it?” Sessa whined. Victor snatched the basket from her hand and marched round the shop in angry silence. Sessa got as much as she felt she needed and soon the basket was full.

“All done!”, she chirped. Victor looked down at the overcrowded basket. Jesus! Thats a lot of food, i cant even tell what half of this is! Well she better eat it is all im saying!

“$15.67”

Victor grumbled as he reached into his back pocket for his wallet and drew out a crisp twenty canadian dollar bill and handed it to the cashier on the till. He glared at Sessa and put out his hand for his change.

“You better eat all this!”, he told her gruffly, marching down the road towards his apartment block. It was quite hot out and Victor didnt like being outside in the midday sun as he hated the heat of the sun bearing down on him. Sessa liked being out in the sun, she was tired of the gloom she had gotten so used to. She loved the feel of the suns warmth on her skin. She had lived in too many cold and damp places, so she was always grateful to feel a bit of warmth. She slowed her pace, revelling in the sun but also she didnt really wanna go back to Victors apartment which smelt awful! The smell was impossible to describe, it was so unique in its stench, Sessa didnt even want to try to analyse it to what it could be that made it so offensive to the nose.

It wasnt long till they were inside and Sessa rushed to the two small windows he had and opened them up as far as they would go. And tried to hide her gagging motions from him. She piled his washing on the floor and sorted out the sheets on his bed. She didnt bother asking if he had any clean ones, she figured the answer would be no. Finding a side that wasnt stained in god knows what, she closed her eyes and settled to sleep.

As she was drifted off she heard his feet walk towards her. Oh what now?! Groaning she opened one eye and looked at him towering over her.

“I need to change the bedding, theyre dirty. You dont want that, c’mon up you get”

Sessa got up and felt a bit bad for assuming the worst of him. She stood there watching change it all. He gathered up the dirty bedding and the clothes on the floor and put them in a big basket. “I'm gonna go downstairs to put these in the wash, you can go back to sleep now. Im gonna go out for a while, so youve got the place to yourself. The food is in the fridge, alright?!”

“Thank you”, she said sheepishly. Maybe he wasnt so bad after all. And maybe they could make the apartment a bit nicer together.

“Uhuh, i'll be back..err..i duno when I'll be back, but sometime. Dont wait up or anything.”

“Okay...see you later then…”

Victor turned with the basket and left the apartment again. He figured she wouldnt want him around that much and getting some space to figure stuff out seemed like a good idea. In truth he didnt really know what to do with her. This had all happened so suddenly. Now he was responsible for this frail and their kid she was carrying. Oh fuck, Victor stopped in his tracks as the thought hits him, I'm gonna be a dad again! what if they turn out like graydon! No! No, i wont let that happen! Shit! What if they turn out worse! What if i fuck this up! What if she leaves me with the kid on my own to raise! What if she stays! Oh god! Oh god! Uhhhhhhh!!! Victor found himself in a existential crisis in a bar downtown. He had a family now. And they were staying. With him. How the hell was this going to work?!

@creedslove @bun-dpdbny @samtwilson

#victor creed #sessa #silverwing #marvel

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ragehappysecretsanta · 7 years

Text

Date Night Interrupted

Author: http://canadiantardis.tumblr.com/

Recipient: http://meganna2525.tumblr.com

Summary: Lindsay is taken on the worst day possible - date night with her partners - but she trusts them to know how to save her before anything bad happens.

Warnings: Teen rating, swearing, mild violence, polyamory (Mavinseg), pregnancy, FAHC AU

Word Count: 5568

Date Night Interrupted

Lindsay grunted at the right hook to her cheek, her head whipping to the side from the force, but still she couldn’t help but laugh, even as she felt the blood fill her mouth and drip from her lips from her teeth biting her tongue.

Some upstart crew thought they had the jump on the Fakes, thinking if they ‘took the weakest link’ of the wild bunch that was Lindsay and her partners, they’d be able to demand turf and dealers as method of payment for ransom. Yeah, sure, she had been easy to kidnap on her way home from the cat shelter she volunteered at every other day, and it stung her pride how they thought so lowly of her, but she knew something they would soon learn if they survived the lesson.

“Stupid bitch.” The punk who had punched her muttered angrily, turning away from the redhead in disgust.

Lindsay just laughed in response, baring her blood-stained teeth at his back as he walked out of the ‘torture’ room she was stuck in. Personally, she found it lackluster and had no flavour like Ryan had made his torture chambers to look. This room was bare except for the bolted chair, a couple lights imbedded into the ceiling that shown the dark gray walls easily, and a plain as hell metal door that was the only entrance or exit out of the room.

Now that she was alone for the first time since waking up with that god-awful headache from the struggle she had against the upstarts – which she remembered being from her head being smashed into the pavement until she had lost consciousness – she took stock over her new injuries. Cuts and scrapes along her arms and palms from the struggle – with a few exceptions as the cats had been extra playful during her volunteering time – the back of her head most likely split open as her hair felt like it was sticking to her, and her face felt like a giant bruise from the ridiculously unnecessary beatings they gave her to rough her up before they sent any evidence that they had taken her. Her chest and stomach weren’t badly beaten, which was lucky – or about as lucky as a kidnapped felon could get – for her and the three-and-a-half-month fetus inside her.

Lindsay also took the time to look over the state of her clothes, and was sad that her pretty fading-red dress and leggings were both torn, neck hole stretched, and the front edges were frayed to hell. She couldn’t blame the cats she had been taking care of for the multiple small holes and stretched fabric from this morning, they wouldn’t do this much damage at their worst.

She wasn’t sure where her purse was, which had her ASP pistol – which she has lovingly named Ruby after she got it painted a beautiful red – and phone, among other stuff. She guessed it was either with the punks or back on the street where she had been taken.

She realized a little late that the blood dripping from her lip was falling onto the dress and she groaned in annoyance. It was going to take forever to get the stain out, even longer if she wasn’t rescued within the hour.

“Come on. This was supposed to be Date Night.” She grumbled to herself quietly. Because of the damn upstarts, who knew when she and her lovers were going to have another one. “Son of a fucking bitch.”

** 4 Hours Later **

Lindsay was normally late to Date Nights when they happened on days she volunteered at the cat shelter on the outskirts of Los Santos named Kate Shelly. Because a member of the Fake AH Crew was a regular volunteer at the shelter, the place had become a safe haven for cats, the workers and other volunteers were granted complete protection/immunity, and the place never got heavily taxed or had to struggle to stay afloat.

Oftentimes – meaning every other month or so – Gavin would join Lindsay to visit the cute little fuzzballs, and he had today, but had to leave early at the request of the Lads needing his computer skills for something.

He had kissed Lindsay on the temple – her mouth and most of her face was covered by a long-haired calico she had been cooing into – and put a hand to her belly before leaving, promising to see her at their apartment this evening. She had given a muffled response, laughing at the kitten in her hands as it mewed in complaint.

Now, several hours later, Gavin and the other two lounged around their living area, Michael picking at his shirtsleeves idly, leaning against the other man comfortably.

“When did she say she finished?” Meg asked from her spot on the recliner, playing with her skirts in boredom.

Michael pulled out his phone before he answered. “‘I promise I’ll be done in an hour.’ Sent three fucking hours ago. She always does this, Jesus Christ!”

“But Micoo, the kitties!” Gavin protested in defense for his fellow cat lover in her absence. “She might have forgotten the time again because of ‘em. C’mon, we just need to call her and talk her ear off until she gets here.”

Michael huffed in mild annoyance, but not the anger he played up for the public, and tossed his phone at Meg. “You do it this time, Turney. I got kicked-puppy eyes for a month straight after the last time.”

“Fine, fine, I don’t need your phone to call her, Mikey.” She tossed the phone back to him before she grabbed her own phone and went about calling Lindsay’s number, flipping her hair away from her ear to hear properly.

There was a brief silence before they all heard the faint sound of the phone being answered before Meg laid it on thick. “Have you forgotten again, babe?” She stuck her bottom lip out like Lindsay would be able to physically see it. “You know we’ve been wanting to see this movie for weeks.”

Gavin and Michael just barely heard an incoherent reply but saw Meg stiffen, her back straightening and feet planting on the floor, her eyes bright and staring at nothing to listen intently. Michael almost asked what was going on but seemed to think better of it. Both men were attentive to their girlfriend’s reactions, aware something wasn’t right.

“Wow.” She barked a laugh, venom lacing her tone. “How fucking stupid are you? You know what’s going to happen to you because of your little gamble?” There was an answer but Meg cut it off. “I’ll cut off your balls and stuff them down your throats. Unless of course, you’ve realized the errors of your ways and let my beautiful girlfriend go on her way and maybe she’ll forget your ugly-ass mugs and we’ll let you live your pathetically short lives in peace.”

Meg’s face grew red with anger, her free hand digging nails into the armrest and her jaw clenched. Whatever she heard as an answer to her threat didn’t go the way she wanted, before she dropped her phone, the two men hearing the end call beep coming from her phone.

“Get Ryan or Geoff on the phone.” She commanded in a hard voice, making Michael and Gavin scramble for their respective phones and call their friends, looking to Meg for instructions. “Tell them a bunch of assholes took Lindsay for ransom. Gunna need a lot of manpower to find her before we go guns blazing.”

The young men nodded and took off to different parts of the apartment as the people they called answered in various states of curiosity and confusion, before they slowly took an angry tone as they listened to the two explain what they knew.

“Did they say their crew name?” Ryan asked Gavin in a growl.

“Hang on, I’ll ask.” He replied, pulling his phone away from his mouth to speak to Meg. “Did they mention a crew name or anything?”

“No, but the man who spoke to me had a nasally voice, like this.” She spoke as if she had a stuffed nose. “Must have been an upstart crew. Look around the path Lindsay normally takes home from the shelter for more, ‘cause I don’t know.”

Gavin nodded and repeated everything to the Vagabond over the line.

“Alright. Thanks. I’ll make sure to save some bloodshed for you three.” He promised.

“Thanks, Rye-bread. Hear back soon?”

“Yeah, course. Oh, hey, sorry Date Night’s cancelled again.” His tone had gotten softer just before hanging up.

Gavin sighed, nodding to air as he put down his phone.

“Geoff’s rallying the troops, and they’ll start searching in a couple minutes.” Michael said a minute later, striding back towards Meg and Gavin, looking down at his button-up and dark jeans and shrugged. “So much for Date Night.”

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

Although this wasn’t the first time Lindsay had been captured by a rival gang, this was the first time she was captured because of her relationship with Gavin, Meg, and Michael, and while she was pregnant.

The four were known by and large in the underworld as being the strongest team in the Fake AH Crew, what with Michael and Meg’s killer streaks and Gavin’s unbelievable technological abilities and smarts. But – and it was somewhat her own fault in this – Lindsay’s strength was never known to anyone outside the Crew.

She could tell this was why the upstarts thought they could cut down the strongest team by taking her.

As she waited in the barren, boring torture room, Lindsay thought it would be best if she tried to doze to pass the time, wondering how long it’ll be before her trio rescued her ass. She wondered if they’d be able to find her with or without help, before her eyes slipped shut and the next thing she knew her neck was leant to one side rather uncomfortably and the light had been turned off.

With a loud groan, she brought her head back up and tilted it to the other side, wincing in discomfort as she tried to fix the crick in her neck. She rotated her head as best she could, ignoring the discomfort, when she heard the distinctively loud footfalls coming towards her room, and she winced again when the lights turned back on, assaulting her eyes suddenly.

The same punk as before entered with a grin. Lindsay’s eyebrow rose.

“With a smile like that, you don’t look nearly as stupid as you really are.” She said, mocking cheer, hoping to push some of the man’s buttons.

The grin grew forced for a moment before it relaxed, much to Lindsay’s disappointment. “With a face like that, you don’t look nearly as much of a whore as you really are.” The punk replied with just as much false cheer in his voice as she had.

“What do you want.” Her face went flat as her tone got monotone.

“Nothing. Just wanted to let you know your lovers have been informed of your predicament. My men said that other slut was downright furious when we didn’t agree to her command to let you free.”

“Stupid decision, then.” Lindsay replied, her mind buzzing. If they knew she was taken, they could possibly be able to track the phone and find them in no time flat.

It seemed something in her expression changed to show her thoughts as the upstart chuckled lowly. Her eyes narrowed at him, demanding an answer to what he thought was so funny.

“If you thought we would keep anything of yours that could be traced back here, you really are stupid. We weren’t born yesterday, bitch.”

“No, if you were born yesterday, you’d already be smarter than you are.” Lindsay retorted, but she began to worry. She knew there were other ways of finding where she had been taken, but those ways took so much longer than Gavin hacking and tracing a source. She could only hope the upstart crew had contacted her lovers nearby so they could be in the ballpark of where she was.

“So, what now?” She asked, leaning her head back with a look of boredom on her face. “Do we play the waiting game until they come here?”

The punk’s grin grew. “We’re going to be playing a little game of cat and mouse with those three, until we get every little bit of information out of you, or until they agree to our terms. You see, our bases are connected to the railway, with the only ways in or out through the train tracks.”

“You really think you’ll be able to hide from the Fakes?” Lindsay let out of a bark of laughter, feeling dried blood crack and flake on her chin. “They’ll find me and you’ll have a few hundred bullets in the head and I’ll only have been roughed up.”

“How much do you want to bet on that?” The punk leered.

“I’ll bet your pathetic life on it.”

“How about something on you, bitch. If they don’t come get you by midnight tonight, you answer one question a friend of mine will ask. If they do, as you said, I’ll be dead.” His grin was stereotypically villainous.

Lindsay bared her teeth again in answer, leaning her head back against the headrest.

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

They heard from Ryan first, just as the three entered the Fake Penthouse where they could hear orders being told by Geoff to someone on the phone. Only the Inner Circle and B-Team were allowed in the Penthouse that doubled as Geoff’s main home and the Fake’s more casual base of operations.

Gavin’s phone rang with the opening notes of Sleeping At Last’s ‘Saturn’ before he heard Ryan’s voice muffled by his mask.

“You at the penthouse yet? Need you in the sights right about now.” He grumbled, way too forward, much like how he got when the Vagabond was around.

Gavin nodded, slipping away from his loves to head to his ‘Room’ where his tech was. “Just got in. Computers’ll take a minute before I can get in, found anything yet, Vaga?”

“Yes.” He could hear the eye-roll through the mask and line at the nickname, which was the entire reason Gavin still calls him that. “Traces of blood that are long-dried on a sidewalk about a forth of the way away from the shelter. Quiet street, only a couple bugged places and barely any buildings this way.”

“Alright. Which street?” Gavin asked, his computers up and running and he was already looking through cameras to hopefully find the right one.

“Along the shoulder of the highway. Still considered the main street, but it’s mostly road.” Vagabond informed, rattling off coordinates until Gavin found him in the cameras.

“Ah, gotcha. Okay, checking through the stream. Anything else you got?” Gavin asked offhand as he traced back from the camera.

“Only the blood, I think it was either from a headwound or some area that bleeds a lot from a small wound. Also, a hairclip.”

“Her cat ear hairclip?” He questioned, slowing down his search as he saw Lindsay enter the camera’s view, several hours earlier. He frowned. Lindsay had texted saying she was still in the shelter an hour after this timestamp.

“Yeah, the little black and yellow ear things.” Ryan’s voice came through with a quiet chuckle. “Though I still say it’s a bowclip, not cat ears.”

“You know Lindsay. When she gets something in her head, she sticks with it.” Gavin said without really paying attention, watching the video a couple times before an angry bird trill escaped. “These mofos did something to the stream. They must’ve known about the bugged places and took them down for just long enough to take Linds.”

“Fuck. Okay.” Ryan’s voice slipped back into Vagabond’s. “What do you have?”

“Lindsay appears for a full three seconds before the stream cuts forward a full two minutes later, with only the clip and blood visible, but really small and grainy because of the shite quality. Guessing they did something to turn off the video feed or something.” He continued to mutter. “But it doesn’t make sense, the timestamp says 3:02, but she was still at the shelter at 4…”

“… Gavin, you hadn’t thought about the possibility the assholes were the ones texting you with her phone? It’s the only logical explanation.”

“Shit… She’s been missing longer than we thought. Shit, shit, shit. R-Vagabond, are there any tracks from the vehicle they used? Any sort of tracks? It rained just that morning over there. Streets should still have a bit of moisture to show tracks.”

“This is a busy street, Gavin.”

“Well, what the hell do you suggest, Vagabond?” Gavin snapped, worry pooling in his guts. They had been wrong by about four hours. Leads were already getting cold in his mind, irrational fear clouding his thoughts with the regret that he should have stayed with Lindsay.

“First off, calm the fuck down, Free. Hope isn’t lost. Check other cameras along this street. They can’t have been smart enough to cover their tracks completely. Check earlier in this feed for the car. No one ever thinks about these things, only the current, more important parts.”

Gavin nodded and followed the orders mechanically, distantly hearing his door opening and just knew it was Meg by the faint draft of her cheap perfume she decided to try for the date. She said nothing, but her presence washed over him like a physical aura, reminding him how to feel calm.

Her fingers brushed through his hair and he felt his mind clear enough to focus on the task at hand.

“Okay, yeah, you’re right. Hang on, I’ll dig what I can get.”

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

Lindsay was given a wall clock to watch tick away the time until the stupid bet was called off. She wouldn’t say it aloud, but she was glad to hear something other than her breath when the upstarts left her alone. At least it was a familiar noise that set her at ease, knowing the punks weren’t anywhere near her for the time being.

But, in the same vein, her worry grew with every minute that passed. She watched at it turned to 11pm, and there was still no sign of her rescue.

As it inched closer to midnight, the punk appeared again with a smug smile that Lindsay furiously wanted to deck. He didn’t even say a fucking thing while they waited and watched the time tick by.

“Would you look at that? They aren’t here.” The clock barely struck midnight when the upstart started talking, wheeling around to face her.

Lindsay simply glared at him, knowing he was going to try to get information out of her, but she wouldn’t even for a stupid bet like this. She may not have a lot of power in her situation, but she was going to keep the one thing they wanted close to her heart.

“I believe you lost a pointless bet.” He continued, moving to tower over her, a move she had seen countless punks do to look scarier than they were. If her legs hadn’t been tied to the chair legs, she would have busted his nuts. The only people allowed that close to her was her friends and lovers, not upstart punks who kidnap her.

“If it was pointless, then it should be void.” Lindsay replied, her glare hard.

“No, it was still a real bet, missy. So, how did that bet go? Your people don’t show up, you give us…?” He gave a smirk, dramatically thinking hard. “Oh, that’s right, you answer a question honestly that a friend of mine will ask.”

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

The upstart’s ‘friend’ gave off the same vibe Lindsay got when she first met the Vagabond. Cold, weird, impassive. But at the same time, he was nothing like the Vagabond, or Ryan even. He wore a pressed suit, and acted like he was professional assassin or something. This crew was pulling all the levers to look like a cliché gang.

Neither had spoken a single word since the ‘friend’ had entered the room. The upstart had left long ago. Lindsay had raised an eyebrow at the guy briefly, waiting for him to speak first, and now they were in a long silence that felt neither awkward nor comfortable.

Finally, after ten minutes of silence, Lindsay broke the silence with a witty remark. “So, you know that saying, a picture lasts longer? Yeah, might want to take a picture then.” She ends with a sarcastic smile, trying to egg the suited guy on.

But it didn’t seem to be her day. The man blinked a couple times but still wouldn’t respond. Lindsay was getting fed up with this treatment.

“Okay, what’s the question you want me to answer?” She demanded.

This got a reaction out of him. He straightened, and in a tone that was equally as cold, weird and impassive as his body language, he finally spoke. “What are the real names of Rimmy Tim and Vagabond?”

Lindsay had thought she was ready for any question they would try to get out of her, but this one surprised her. They weren’t looking for locations, but names… Oh.

“Why would you want to know?” She asked, playing dumb and hoping to stall for time to think. Like hell would she give their actual names, but she wasn’t sure if they knew Ryan and Jeremy’s names already and were just testing to see if she were telling the truth. After all, if they did some close digging – and had someone like Gavin on the team – they’d be able to figure out their names. “And what does that have to do with getting territory and dealers for your upstart crew?”

It was like the man went on mute again. Not a peep came from him. He was more robot than person, and the familiar vibe the Vagabond gave off ended. This guy was nothing like him.

“Sorry, buddy. I’m not telling you jack shit. You could search everything on me and still not find the Fakes real names.” And it was true, all the contacts were nicknames or codenames each member used the most, just in case she lost her phone or got caught, like now.

“I would rather not have to hurt you further.” The man said. “Unlike my coworkers, I do not have a death wish. But a job is a job.”

“Listen, buddy. Doesn’t matter what you do to me. Everyone in this base is still dead when the Fakes find out where I am. And that’ll include you.” Lindsay held no sympathy to the assassin man. If he didn’t want to hurt someone, he wouldn’t, job or no. “My crew don’t take too kindly to members being kidnapped for ransom.”

“Just tell me the names of Rimmy Tim and Vagabond, and you will not be hurt any more than you are, Miss Rose.” The man ordered, stepping forward and grabbing a large chunk of her hair, making her cry out as he pulled, causing the split skin on the back of her head to reopen.

“I’d never rat out my friends.” She replied with gritted teeth, her eyes narrowed into slits from pain and anger.

They stared at each other for a full minute in silence, a contest of wills, when they heard the distant sounds of gunfire. Immediately the man let go of Lindsay, real emotion showing on his face. He was scared.

Lindsay grinned, laughing loudly. She could practically hear her lovers coming for her. “I told you assholes. I fucking told you.” She bared her teeth again at the man. “Never mess with the Fakes.”

They heard running before the upstart punk burst through the door, his eyes wild. He went right up to Lindsay and punched her painfully hard across the cheek, making her bite her tongue again. “You fucking bitch! How did they find us?!”

She laughed in response, blood bubbling down her lips. “We’re the Fake AH Crew, bitch.”

The upstart growled, turning to the other man. “Untie her and follow me. We have to move her before they find us.”

The sounds of gunfire were getting steadily closer, and Lindsay couldn’t help but find the entire thing fucking hilarious. She laughed as the man untied her from the bolted chair, laughed as they took her out of the room and she saw the rest of the base, which was equally as drab and boring and clichédly villain’s lair as the torture chamber.

She continued to laugh until the upstart turned back and gut-punched her, and her entire being froze with sudden fear for the still-developing baby inside her.

“Shut the fuck up.” The upstart snapped, turning back to continue walking when he dropped with a spray of blood.

Standing at the entrance of a corridor stood wonderful, beautiful, gorgeous Meg, her face dark and thunderously pissed off. Lindsay began to think she saw the punch and had the same fear as she had. She pointed her rose gold gun at the other man with a sneer.

“Let her go and die, or die.” Her tone was laced with hate. “I’d rather not let my beautiful girlfriend get sprayed by filthy blood like yours.”

The man hesitated for a second before he stepped away from Lindsay, his gun dropping to the floor as his hands went up without complaint. He had a calm expression on his face, as if he accepted his fate.

Staying out of the line of sight, Lindsay found her legs shaking as she quickly crossed over, barely wincing at the sound of Meg’s gun shooting before she wrapped her arms tightly around her girlfriend, laughing a little more genuinely than before, and both pretended they couldn’t feel the damp cheeks on the other. Just because kidnappings weren’t a rare occurrence didn’t mean they no longer felt fear for/as the victim.

They stayed for a moment wrapped around each other before Meg let go first, tapping her ear to connect with the others. “I got her. Heading out now.” She looked to Lindsay briefly with a question on her face that she understood easily. Lindsay nodded and her girlfriend ordered no survivors.

No one angered the Fakes and lived long to tell the tale.

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

It had been exactly as the Vagabond had said, the idiots forgot to cover them arriving and taking down the cameras along the way to their hideout, though it took much longer than Gavin would have liked.

All the same, when he found where the van had stopped at, it was an easy thing to track through poorly defended camera streams. He told Geoff and Michael first, and then stayed behind to be their eagle eye.

He didn’t like staying behind when it was Lindsay they were getting back, and he was a good shot – better when he was pissed off for some reason – but he understood the others would need help finding their way around the base.

Gavin watched as the Fakes burst into the base, keeping an eye out for any idiot who had the bright idea to flank his friends and lovers, and while he wasn’t there, he felt a surge of glee at each asshole the others shot down.

He was the first to hear Meg after she got to Lindsay, and then seconds later saw the footage of the two walking close together – whether Lindsay was hurt badly or just needed help walking, Gavin couldn’t tell – towards the nearest exit he told Meg to go to. He saw Michael roar and launch himself at the enemies. No survivors. Michael and the Vagabond were going to fulfill that order with glee, Gavin could easily see that.

Gavin wanted to head off and wait for Meg and Lindsay to return to the penthouse, knowing Michael was going to take a while, but had to keep an eye on the other Fakes so none were overwhelmed. Just in case. He told them where the enemies hid, or where they were trying to flee. If he had a more normal conscience, the sight of his friends murdering fleeing gang members would have sat uncomfortably with him, but he relished in it. They hurt Lindsay. They were not going to be given mercy. The Fakes weren’t the top dogs in Los Santos for being nice ormerciful all the time.

The entire massacre took about half an hour in total, and by that time, Meg and Lindsay had returned, with Caleb looking over her injuries. Gavin was just ending the communications and heading out of his ‘Room’ towards the infirmary when he heard Lindsay ask about the likelihood of punch to the stomach killing a baby.

“It would vary on the assault, and if it was a recurring assault. You’ll have to see another doctor and see if they can check on the baby’s health to make sure it’s going to be okay.” Caleb replied. “But if that baby gets anything from you, it’ll be your luck.”

Gavin entered the infirmary soon after Caleb spoke, causing the three to look at him. The girls relaxed instantly and Meg went to kiss him on the cheek.

“What’s this about baby killing?” Gavin asked.

“The upstarts tried to rough me up a bit, including punching me in the stomach.” Lindsay’s hand rubbed her stomach slowly. “I wanna make sure it’s going to be okay.”

“Shit… It’ll be fine. Like Caleb said, you’ve got the strangest luck in the world, and that baby is going to get it too. I’m sure of it, love.” He assured, heading over to her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her softly.

The three stayed in Caleb’s infirmary until the rest arrived, splashed in dried blood and small bits of other stuff. Ryan looked like he was just in a Viking attack with how red his mask looked, but other than various superficial wounds, no one had been badly hurt. Michael went straight to Lindsay and kissed her deeply, and Gavin could tell their girls were happy to see him again.

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

As with any rescue mission, there was a long recovering period the victim and the closer loved ones went through before getting back to normal. This time was a little more stressful because of the fetus’s life was at stake for a good week before it was confirmed nothing was wrong, and the baby was still on track to be a healthy pregnancy.

After that scare was over, recovering from the kidnapping was spent with her partners near constantly. Gavin stayed with her when they went to the shelter, with even Meg accompanying them at times to see the two entertain the cats or help around the front desk.

At home, the other three were almost choking Lindsay with affection, but it was nice. There were more soft kisses, more laying across her lap like a pillow, more playing with her hair. They had to be careful with her hair though, because of the stitches from the split skin at the back of her head. It would take another few weeks before the scarring would be the only reminder of this particular kidnapping.

About a month and a half after the kidnapping and rescue, the four were getting ready for Date Night again. Lindsay chose the day so she wouldn’t be busy with kitties, and the others planned around the day. The guys wore button down shirts, and Meg wore jeans and a deep V-neck blouse. Lindsay herself wore a dress and leggings again, as jeans wouldn’t be comfortable while pregnant.

“Oh, you look lovely, babe.” Meg said when Lindsay got out of the bathroom in her dress, twirling her finger to ask her to spin the dress, kissing her sweetly on the lips. “You ready?”

“Yeah, are the guys ready?”

“We’ve been ready for a fucking hour!” They heard Michael shout from the entryway with staged anger. “Hurry up before we leave your slow asses behind and go dancing by ourselves.”

“We’re coming, we’re coming. Jeez, assholes.” Lindsay shouted back with a smile, laughing when Meg quietly made a ‘that’s what she said’ joke as they headed towards the boys.

Each of the four had a certain quality about them that made them dangerous to enemies. Michael and Meg were killers, deadly shots and explosions were they’re favourite methods. Gavin was incredibly smart and the best hacker in Los Santos. But Lindsay’s strength was different.

Lindsay was the luckiest person in the weirdest way possible. She could be shooting at an angle and hit a target dead centre by accident, and then trip over her own feet the next second. She was lucky enough to not be with one person, but three of the most ruthless and beautiful people she ever had the pleasure of knowing, and in only three months, they were all going to be raising the luckiest child in the world.

As they headed out of their apartment, Lindsay wrapped her arms around Gavin and Michael’s waists and held them close to her, Meg walking ahead of them with the gentle evening breeze blowing her hair behind her as she moved.

It was nice, returning to normalcy and having Date Nights again, and Lindsay could never regret how her life got to this very moment in time.

#Ragehappy #Mavinseg #canadiantardis #meganna2525 #rhss17

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elizabethhamilton1780 · 7 years

Text

Because She Can

Part 2/2 (First part: https://elizabethhamilton1780.tumblr.com/post/165673592596/because-she-can)

A/N: So sorry this took a week longer than expected! But it’s here! Thank you all so much for the love, this has been my pipe dream fic for a long time so I’m so grateful that people enjoyed it as much as I did.

She ran. She spins on her heels and runs for the back patio door. She throws it open, dashing barefoot down the back wooden porch. She doesn’t care that it’s thundering, that the rain is pouring down. She doesn’t care that she’s only wearing a sleeveless summer dress, her cardigan discarded inside. She doesn’t care that literally everybody in that huge childhood home of hers is calling her name. She sees through the corner of her eye Alexander nearly fall down the porch in his attempt to catch up with her.

She doesn’t stop, though. She keeps running. She runs and runs and runs, the rain soaking her to her bones. She runs through the pastures she used to play in as a childhood, the large oak trees she would hide in with her sisters. A loud clap of thunder startles her, but she continues running. She isn’t sure if anything could stop her from running now.

She runs until she gets to the top of a hill on the edge of their property, the thick clouds blocking the beautiful view of the Hudson she usually gets. Panting, she hunches over to try and will the cramp that has developed in her side away, the cool rain dripping down her body. She stands up, tilting her head up towards the sky, her eyes closed. She resists the urge to scream as she had done many times in her teenage hood. She wasn’t a child anymore. She had to be strong.

“Are you fucking crazy?!” Alexander snaps, yelling to be heard over the roaring rain. His chest was heaving- from either the news that he undoubtedly figured out by now, or the unexpected run he must have taken. Eliza wasn’t sure.

She glances towards the other side of the hill- wondering if she could manage to escape him again. The moment she took a step, he lunged forward, grabbing her wrist. She still refused to look at him, struggling to twist her arm from his grip. “Fucking stop it. Look at me, do you realize how insane this is-! Look at me!” He snapped, managing to grab a hold of her other wrist.

All at once, the fight left her body. Once he could tell she wasn’t going to run, he loosened his grip on her wrists, but doesn’t let go. The pair stares at each other, both struggling to catch their breath.

“Please tell me she made that up. That this is some fucked up game of hers to scare me away. Tell me there’s no way I did that to you- that there’s no way you did that to me.” Alexander finally says, pleads, really, the hurt in his eyes almost tangible.

Eliza swallows, grateful for the rain. He didn’t have to see her tears. “The doctor said it was the stress. I didn’t… I didn’t catch on until I was ten weeks along. That couldn’t have helped. I was. Everything was so hectic with the election, I barely saw you, I had just taken over at Windham… I found out the day you left for Virginia. I was terrified. We had all these plans that were supposed to happen before we were going to even think about having a family. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to add any more stress to your plate.” Eliza watches as Alexander squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head. “Then… The day before the story leaked, I started bleeding. I had just gotten home from the doctors when they raided our apartment.”

Alexander suddenly dropped her arms, turning away. Eliza couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like he was mumbling “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” over and over again.

Eliza swallowed roughly, wrapping her arms around her own small frame. He faces her again and she took that as her cue to continue. She half yelled, the rain roaring so loudly. “It was, a relief, almost? The raid. I was almost happy with everything that happened. It was a distraction from all the initial pain, made me realize that life… that I had to keep going. Then you flew me out to D.C and I panicked even more because not only was your job and reputation on the line, but. You would have felt like it was your fault, and I didn’t want that. I didn’t want you to hurt any more than you already were-”

He laughs bitterly, covering his face with his hands as he hunched forward. “How the fuck do you think I feel now?!” He yells when he straightens up.

Eliza’s lower lip wobbled as she tried to contain the sob that was crawling out from her chest. “Please don’t yell at me right now.”

“Oh really?! You don’t want me to yell at you right now?! Well I’m sorry, let’s just ignore all of this and continue on like you haven’t been lying your ass off to me these past few years! Jesus Christ, Eliza. Fucking… Grow the fuck up.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Eliza cries, gathering enough strength to step closer to him.

“It means that I’ve been fucking… Oh my god, I’ve been beating myself up and hating myself for being an idiot and fucking things up with you. I’ve been feeling all of these things and blaming myself for our marriage falling apart and you’ve been hiding my dead child from me for all these years?! But that’s okay, right?!” Alexander yells. Eliza stared at him, unsure what to say. He let out another laugh. A cold, bitter laugh that didn’t sound anything like him. “You’re so fucking good at playing the victim! Fucking running away from me like that. You even had me fooled! Oh, poor Eliza, with the husband too busy to be around her-!”

“You knew I didn’t believe that! You knew how proud of you I was!” Eliza interrupts, her eyebrows knitted together, her frail frame trembling from the cold and her slim arms wrapped around her middle.

“Poor Eliza with the unfaithful husband! Hey, I wonder what everyone would think if they knew you fucking left me to go on a vacation for three months!”

“It was a trip that my sisters and I had been planning for years! I wasn’t going to throw that all away because you didn’t want to be lonely! I thought I could trust you!” She cries incredulously. “I can’t believe you’re blaming me for what happened that summer!”

“I fucking begged you to stay, Eliza!” He yells louder then ever before, shocking Eliza. “I knew it, I just fucking felt something and I begged you to stay and bought you a fucking ring I couldn’t afford and you still left me!”

Stunned, Eliza sat there silently, tears rolling down her cheeks, mixing with the rain. “It’s not my responsibility to make sure you behave-” she struggles to keep her ground, even though she felt her walls crumbling around her. Was it really her fault?

“But no one knows that. And I didn’t even know that we were going to have a child. I didn’t even know I lost the one family member I had.” Alexander says much more quietly, his shoulders slumping. He looked so defeated.

“Alexander I’m so-” Eliza started to say, her voice cracking.

He held up a hand to stop her apologies, shaking his head and starting to retreat from the hill.

“Wait! Where are you going?!” She cries after him, sliding briefly in her effort to get to him.

“Away. Away from you, away from this godawful house and away from your godawful mother.” He says bitterly, not even bothering to stop and face her.

“Alexander, please-!” Eliza was not above, begging, panic rising in her chest.

“No!” Alexander snaps, spinning around to glare at her, his eyes already red rimmed from the crying. “I’m fucking done, Elizabeth. I’m done with you.” Eliza stopped in her tracks, feeling like the air had been stomped out of her lungs. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go mourn the loss of a baby I didn’t even know I had.”

She bent down into a crouch on her knees, gasping for air. She watched him angrily retreat until he disappeared into the heavy foliage they had ran through. She sat there, shivering and numb for she doesn’t even know how long. Eventually, she started to wander back, her body stiff. She’d done nothing but cry for well over an hour but still felt a sob crawling it’s way up her throat as she climbed the back steps of her childhood home.

Before she could even process what was happening, Peggy had the door thrown open and her older sister wrapped up in one of her famous hugs. “I’m sorry, Liz. I’m so sorry.” She said quietly, her warm cheeks pressed against Eliza’s neck. Another sob rocked Eliza’s body and she hugged Peggy back tightly, Angelica joining soon after.

Eliza’s trembling eventually gets so bad that they’re forced to go back inside, even though that’s the last place she wants to be. She wordlessly heads up the stairs and down the long corridor to the left, her room at the end of the hall.

The room was painted a light blue, various pieces of her child and teenage hood scattered around the room. Photos of her and her sisters, her and her college friends. There was even one of her and Alexander ice skating on one of their first ever official dates. All cried out, she rips the photo down from the wall and puts it face down on the counter of her dresser.

She gathers her things, noticing with a pause that Alexander’s things were still there. His clothes, but not his work bag. It made sense. She realizes with dismay and a small flicker of hope that she’ll have to see him when she gets back to the city, to return his things. She could plead her case then.

After a moment of hesitating, she grabbed Alexander’s soft tee shirts he had brought (probably for her, he never slept with a shirt on and had a thing about her wearing his clothes) and headed into the adjoining bathroom. She takes a long, hot shower, taking time to lather herself in soap and scrub with a wash cloth until her skin was raw. She changes into her pajamas, a pair of leggings and Alex’s shirt, running a brush through her long tangled locks of hair before padding down the stairs.

“I feel awful.” Peggy was whispering to someone in a hushed voice. “I was the one who brought him down here.”

“What?” Angelica asked. “Why would you do that?”

“Wanted to make him feel welcome, asked if he wanted dessert. Lord knows how well that went.” She sighed, Eliza watching as she picks up a mug, probably drinking some herbal tea.

“Hey.” Angelica greeted Eliza, spotting her in the entranceway of the kitchen. “Feeling any better?” Peggy elbowed her, rolling her eyes.

“I’m warmer now.” Eliza says simply, shrugging. “But now all I want is some of that pie and then to go to bed. Is there any left?”

“Should be. We didn’t get to eat it. Here, I can cut it up,” Peggy moves to stand up.

“I got it.” Eliza says sharply, not feeling at all like being coddled at the moment, regretting it immediately as Peggy sinks back down to her seat. She sighs, crossing the room to hug her from behind, mumbling into her shoulder, “I’m sorry.” Peggy pats her hand so she knows she’s forgiven. They all share a slice of pie before Eliza retreats, feeling their burning gazes on her back. She’s going to have to get used to all those pity looks again, she supposes.

She turns on her bedside lamp, climbing under the covers on her bed and trying to get herself comfortable. She’s been spoiled, the past couple weeks. She’s displeased to discover that she has gotten used to having Alexander sleep beside her, missing his body warmth and even his snoring. Crying’s exhausting, though, so after a while, she manages to fall into a deep sleep.

- - -

She’s awoken by kisses on her jaw and neck, the stubble of his chin feeling like sandpaper on her soft skin. She feels tears form readily in her eyes, inhaling a shaky breath.

“Eliza,” he breathes, burying his face in her neck. “My love, my life. I’ll never be done with you. I’m so sorry,” she feels his tears before she hears his half sob. She reluctantly shifts her body so she was laying on her back, facing him more. She cups one of his cheeks, beckoning him forward for a short kiss, one that was wet because of the combination of their tears.

“I’m sorry too.” She breathes against his lips, her eyes still shut. She shushes him when he starts to say something else. “Let’s talk tomorrow. Just hold me tonight, alright?”

Alexander nodded frantically, short jerky nods. “I’ll hold you forever. I love you so much.”

Eliza smiled faintly, her heavy eyes falling shut, rolling back onto her side. She listens as he muddles around the room, hears the sound of his bag being unzipped, followed by the familiar clang of his belt buckle against the hardwood floor. He sneaks under the covers, tangling their legs together and wrapping his arms around her middle. He presses a kiss to the sensitive skin behind her ear, their bodies being so close together that they share the same pillow.

“Promise me you’ll never leave me.” He mumbled against her neck as his hands frantically wandered Eliza’s backside, her body pressing his against the door of their shitty apartment. She didn’t say anything at first, enjoying his kisses and groping, letting out a large gasp when he bit into her neck. “Baby, promise me you’ll never leave me.” He said again, his hands moving to cup her breasts.

“I’ll never leave you.” Eliza vowed, tugging his face from her neck to her lips. He bit and sucked lightly at her lower lip, groaning when she pushed him away for air.

“Then don’t go. Stay with me.” He pleaded, his hands fiddling for the zipper on the back of her dress.

“No.” She said simply, gasping then laughing after her flipped them so he was pressing her against the door, shoving off the thin straps of her dress.

“You promised.” He said in an accusatory tone, groaning at the sight of her braless chest, getting momentarily distracted.

“I promised I would never leave you. And I’m not. I’ll be gone for three months,” She smirked a little when he let out a whine that was muffled by the skin between her breasts. “Which is a very short amount of time when you take the rest of our lives into consideration.”

“It’s Peggy’s semester abroad. I still don’t understand why you have to go.” His hands slid into the back of her panties, squeezing lightly at her ass while she unbuttoned his shirt.

“We’ve been planning on this since Angie’s senior year of high school. We promised each other that we were going to live in Europe together no matter what we had going on in our lives, including boyfriends and jobs.” She reiterated to him perhaps the thousandth time in the past few weeks. “Now shut up and let’s enjoy our last night together. For a while.” She added the last bit at the look of panic on his face.

Alexander glared at her momentarily before picking her up, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, leaving their discarded clothing around the entrance of their apartment.

Afterward, they lay side by side, the only sound filling the room was their heavy breathing as they came down from the high.

“Wow.” Eliza said eventually, rolling onto her side so she was facing Alexander. She raked her fingers lightly through the hair on his chest. “I know I’m on birth control but I swear I might be pregnant after that.” She teased him, leaning in to give him another kiss. Before she could give him a real one, he rolled off their crickety old bed. She frowned a bit, sitting up all the way. “Bad joke? Okay, I’m sorry.”

She watched him pull on his discarded pair of boxers and saunter over to their dresser, bend down on his haunches to rifle through the bottom drawer. “Babe. What are you doing?” She pried, grabbing the rumpled sheets and wrapping them loosely around her as she stood up. “Seriously.” She nudged her toe at his lower back when he didn’t answer. “What are you looking for?”

He seemingly found what he was looking for, slamming the drawer shut and spinning around to face her, one hand held behind his back.

“Going to tell me what that is?” Eliza raised an eyebrow. Her swollen lips formed a pretty pink O as he sunk down to one knee. “Alexander.”

Her breath hitched when he opened the tiny black velvet box, revealing a beautiful gold diamond ring that she knew he could not yet afford. “I love you so much.” He said simply. “I love you more then I’ve ever loved anyone, including my late mother and I didn’t even think that was possible.” She let out a wet laugh as her heart beat fast in her chest. “Marry me, Elizabeth Schuyler. Please? Stay with me and we can get married. Please.”

Eliza sighed shakily, a sob wanting to crawl it’s way up her throat. “Alex, you. I love you so much, you silly man.” She sunk to her knees in front of him, the hope in his eyes made her want to throw up and say yes, though not necessarily in that order. “Of course I’ll marry you,” she said just as she closed the box. “Just not yet. Not until I’m back.”

The hope in his eyes vanishes and he deflates, falling back to sit on his ass. “Fine.” He said cooly, tossing the box back into the messy drawer before he stood up and slammed it shut with his foot.

“Are you seriously mad at me right now?” Eliza asked incredulously, her eyes following him as he moved to the clean pile of laundry she had folded earlier, tossing on his old Columbia shirt over his head. “Did you really think that was going to change anything?”

“Yes!” He finally snapped, turning to look at her as he angrily pulled on a pair of jeans. “Yes, I did. Excuse me for thinking my girlfriend of over five years would want to marry me!”

Eliza groaned, squeezing her eyes shut momentarily, not ready for this argument. “Of course I want to marry you, Alex. Of course I do! And we can, once I get back. We can get married the moment we get back. I can meet you in Vegas, for fuck’s sake. I am just as dedicated to us as you are, and me living with my sisters doesn’t change that!”

“It completely changes it! You’re choosing them over me, you realize?!” Eliza actually laughed at his ridiculousness. “I’m serious, Eliza! I need you, I can’t deal with everything without you to come home to. I need you and you’re just ignoring that fact!”

“Alexander, you’re being… Baby, look at me.” She crossed the room, cupping his cheeks and ignored his attempt to shrug her off. “This isn’t the end for us. I’ll be back in three months, and we’ll have the rest of our lives together. I need you to understand that I need to do this. For me. And there’s Skype, we can call every night, I’ll send you pictures, pictures of anything you want…”

He takes her wrists into his hands, prying her off. “I don’t know that I can wait for you to vacation in Europe for three months to figure out if you love me or not.” He says, his tone completely calm, a terrifying thing for Eliza.

He grabs his jacket hanging on the post of their bed and stalks out of the room. Eliza gathers the sheets better around herself and follows him. “Where are you going?! It’s late! Alex, please, I know I love you, that isn’t what this is about-!” She’s cut off by the defining slam of the door. She sinks down to her knees in the doorway of their bedroom, sighing.

Her flight left the next afternoon around four. She was certain he’d be back by then, that they’d have enough time to kiss and make up before he drove with her to the airport.

She was wrong.

Peggy and Angelica sat on the chairs next to their gate entrance, Eliza pacing. When Peggy opened her mouth to speak, Eliza held up her finger. “He’ll be here. I just know it.”

“Liz, the plane leaves with or without us.” She sighed.

“I know Alex, alright? You’re going to have sixteen long ass apology voicemails by the time we land. Everything’s going to work out whether he gets his sorry ass here in time or not.” Angelica interjected, a bit more sensitive to the topic then Peggy.

Eliza felt tears form in her eyes. “I don’t want that to be the last I see of him for three months. He was so upset.” Her sisters had nothing to say to that, avoiding eye contact.

“Last boarding call for British Airways flight to Heathrow.” The attendant at the desk called, looking pointedly at the three sisters.

Eliza swallowed, slowly leaning down to grab her carry on bag. He really wasn’t coming.

Angelica waited for Eliza to enter first, probably to make sure her younger sister actually went through with it.

“WAIT! ELIZA, WAIT!” Everyone in the area turns their attention towards the source of the sound, the strangers probably seeing a crazed Latino man causing a ruckus, but Eliza seeing the love of her life. Her entire face lit up, her hand moving to cover her huge smile.

“Oh, god.” Angelica groaned, taking in the sight of what a sweaty mess Alexander was. “This is not happening right now.”

Peggy grinned, her head popping out from behind Eliza. “Twenty bucks, Ang.”

Eliza glared at her sisters, moving to step back out of the gate, the attendant stopping her. She opened her mouth to say something, then caught sight of Alexander’s pathetic state and sighed. “Two minutes.”

Eliza nodded gratefully, stepping passed her and into Alexander’s awaiting arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have proposed like that. That was crazy, I’m sorry.” He said into her ear, her face buried into his neck. “You deserve so much more then that, you deserve a bouquet of a dozen roses and a cheesy romantic date and an even cheesier romantic speech. I’m going to give you all that and more, baby. But for now… I want you to go and do whatever makes you happy, alright? This is your dream and your dreams are my dreams. As long as you come back to me, as long as I’m somewhere in that plan of yours. I love you so much.”

Eliza sniffled, pulling away to pull him in for a long kiss. “Alexander, you are the fucking only plan I have.” She watches as he smiles faintly before kissing her forehead. Embracing tightly, they swayed from side to side, both dreading the moment they’d have to let go. Eventually, when the flight attendant cleared her throat, Alexander pulled away the slightest bit so they could see each other’s face. “I love you.” She said before she wiped the tears away from her face roughly with the back of her hand.

He tipped her chin to press one last chaste kiss to her lips.“Alright. Go, before I change my mind and take you hostage.” He reluctantly loosened his grip around her waist.“Have fun. Please, don’t date any hot English boys.” He added as an afterthought.

Eliza gave him a half smile, raising an eyebrow like ‘really’ look before she walked back to where her sisters are waiting.

“Bye, Ham.” Peggy waved. “That was cheesy as fuck.” She cackled when he gave her the finger, turning on her heels and made her way through the gate.

Eliza started walking, turning around for one last glance at the heartbroken looking Alexander just as the attendant shut the door.

Eliza woke up when the sun shining on her face became too much. She sighed and rolled over onto her other side, seeing Alexander’s warm brown eyes staring at her. “Hi.” She says, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re beautiful.” He says instead of a greeting, running his fingers through her tangled locks of hair.

Eliza snorts, rolling onto her back. “Right. I spent half the day sobbing yesterday, I’m pretty sure I look anything but beautiful.”

Alexander winces and she sees it out of the corner of her eyes. “I keep hurting you.” He says in a defeated tone.

“I hurt you too.” Eliza says in turn, rolling over to face him again, their heads still on the same pillow. “You had every right to say everything you did yesterday.”

Alexander shakes his head. “No, I didn’t. Absolutely none of this is your fault- I fucked up. I’m sorry I even said any of that to you. We were in a relationship, a co dependent one. I relied on you too much, and. I had- have, probably, some… Abandonment, issues I need to work through.” Eliza stays quiet, silently agreeing, but not wanting to hurt his feelings. He coughs, then continued. “I spoke with George. On the phone. First time in months, actually. I was lucky he was free.” He swallowed, taking one of Eliza’s hands and threading their fingers together, pressing a kiss to each of the tips.

“Oh? And what did he say?”

“That as a man, I really don’t have a lot of say with the baby until he or she is born.” He smiles faintly. “He- They. They were apart of you still, at that point. And you had every right to wait until you were ready to tell me.” He hesitates, pressing another kiss to the back of her hand. “I’m not sure if me knowing… If it would have changed anything. I still would have done it, I still would have confessed to everything. And it’s shitty, and I’m disgusted with myself. And I think that’s why I lashed out, because… because I know that everything your mother said was true, even if I didn’t know. I still would have done it. I was looking for someone to blame and… It was easy to blame you in that moment.”

Eliza considers his words for a moment, watching him play with her fingers. “I still should have told you.” She says quietly. “They were yours too.”

“You were trying to protect me. It’s… sweet, in a way.” He lets go of her hand and pulls her against his chest. “I’m just so sad that you had to go through this alone. I’m now even more sad that I put you through all that shit with the Reynolds. I’m sad that I didn’t make you feel safe enough to tell me. I’m sad that I made you think that you and our family were not my first priority. And I have no one to blame but myself for any of that.”

Eliza shushes him, pulling him down for a long kiss despite both their morning breath. “I love you.”

“Do you think you could forgive me? Add that to the long list?” Alexander asks worriedly, threading his fingers through the hair on the back of Eliza’s head, frowning.

“You’re already forgiven. For everything.” Eliza sighed, letting her eyes flutter shut.

“What?” When she didn’t say anything, he cupped her cheek. “Eliza, look at me.”

She let her tire eyes open once more, meeting his. “You’re forgiven, Alexander.” She repeats. “I’m so tired of letting everything hold us back. I just… I’ve accepted that it’s not going to ever be like it was before. But I still think it can be beautiful, just. A different kind of beautiful. I want to stop overthinking and make up for lost time. Do you think we could do that?”

Alexander nodded, for once speechless with gratitude. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now let me sleep, I’m tired. And quit watching me, creep. Makes me feel weird.” She rolls over again, listening to him chuckle as she adjusts, pulling his arms tight around her.

They pack their things and leave as soon as Eliza’s awake and ready.

She’s grateful for no one in her family protesting, even though it was very clear that Catherine wanted to say something.

“I’ll call.” Eliza says to her parents, giving both of them a quick kiss. She finds Angelica and Alexander hugging on the porch, a welcome surprise. Peggy was sidelined, grinning when she spots Eliza.

“I can still kick your ass. Don’t forget that.” She hears Angelica say, tapping his chest lightly as they pull away.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Alex chuckles.

Once back at home, they move back in together. Alexander moves into Eliza’s place, not even putting up any sort of fight. (Eliza managed a mere half a night in his bachelor pad before the overwhelming lack of organization became too much) Eliza knew it was more of a commute for him, but never heard him complain once.

She enjoyed the domesticity of it all. She enjoyed how they fell back into their pattern. She even enjoyed crawling into bed with a usually grumpy Alexander, hearing him complain about work- usually Aaron Burr, having to soothe him (“Yes, you were right honey.” or “How dare he say that”) or finding other (usually physical) means to calm him down.

“I told Washington about us.” He says conversationally over dinner one day, stabbing with his fork at a piece of broccoli Eliza had snuck onto his plate.

“I thought you told him when we were in Albany.” Eliza frowned a bit, looking up from her own plate.

“No, I only told him that I found out that you…” He winced, still unable to say the word.

“Miscarried.” Eliza supplied.

“Yes, that.” Alexander sighs, taking a longer sip of his wine then strictly necessary. “Anyways, he invited me to this… Party, thing.” He finishes lamely. “And assumed that I wouldn’t need a plus one and I said that I would.”

Eliza smiles wryly, raising one of her eyebrows. “Is that your way of telling me that I’m going to D.C. with you next week?”

“It’s my way of inviting you.” Alexander chuckles nervously. “You’d need to take Thursday and Friday off of work, if you did want to come.”

“I think I can manage that. I’d need to go dress shopping, don’t think I have anything suitable to wear to an evening at the White House.” Eliza hummed, taking a bite of her food.

“No you don’t. That dress you wore Saturday was lovely.” He interjects with a grin. The dress he was referring to was a bit too revealing to wear to such a formal event, or any event, really. It was a bit too low cut for Eliza’s taste, but the look of Alexander’s face when she pulled it out of it’s retirement from her closet was well worth the judgement she may have gotten.

“Babe, you’d rather die then let me wear that thing in public.” Eliza rolls her eyes, fighting back a smile herself. “Stop pretending.”

“I let you wear it out to dinner!” Alexander protested, attempting to entangle their feet under the table. He pouted when she kicked lightly at his shin.

“No, we made it about half a block from our building before you insisted I wear your jacket.” Eliza corrects with a small smile, pushing away her plate of leftover food.

“It was cold. I was being a gentleman.”

“Whatever you say, honey.” Eliza allows, though she knew perfectly well she would have been able to withstand the cooler weather with the shawl she had brought. “Either way, I wouldn’t feel comfortable wearing that for the first time I become reacquainted with the Washingtons in years.”

“Fine.” Alexander sighs exaggeratedly, then allows his facade to fade. “You’re really coming with me, though?” His tone was skeptic.

Eliza smiles a bit. “If you really want me there, of course I will.”

“I do.” He interjects quickly, “I want you with me always. I just… The last time we were in the capitol…”

“I know.” She says, offering her hand over the table, palm upwards. Instead of taking it like she expected, he starts to trace patterns over her palm, making her smile. “I think it would be a good thing to make better memories there… Don’t you?”

“You’re perfect.” Alexander says again, making Eliza roll her eyes. “I mean it. I don’t deserve you and you’re perfect. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, idiot.” Eliza says, unable to keep the fond smile off her face. She was anything but perfect and she knew that. Though, perhaps, she could allow Alexander think that for just a tad longer.

- - -

Eliza was… nervous, to say the least. She hasn’t been back to Washington DC since the fatal press conference, or been to any events with any sort of level of politics. She hated the institution, really, saw everyone in that business as power hungry men willing to destroy anything and anyone as long as it gained them power.

She hadn’t seen the Washingtons since then either, where she had essentially spat on George’s face and had wrongly blamed him for everything when she hadn’t been able to accept the fact that it was Alexander’s doing.

They flew in on a Wednesday night, Alexander having some business to take care of during the day Thursday. So, Eliza essentially had the entire day to worry herself into a panic.

She’d loved Martha dearly, and had ignored all of her calls. She’d ignored the flowers they sent on her birthday, the expensive gifts of various perfumes or jewelry and the seemingly endless amount of invitations to their lavish presidential events. She’d ignored each one of their attempts to reach out, really. They stopped trying after about a year, but Eliza had carried the guilt for the past few years.

She stares at her reflection in the full length hotel mirror, the navy blue silk hugging the top half of her body, relaxing and flaring out just below her waist. The dress had a sweetheart neckline with thin straps over her shoulders. Her dark hair was pulled into a loose twist on the back of her head, no jewelry besides the dangle sapphire earrings she had borrowed from Angelica.

“Hey, I just called down for the car, should be ready in a few minutes- woah.” Eliza turns to face him at the last second, blushing and grinning when he made a show of clutching his heart. He looks so handsome in his traditional tux, black tie a tad crooked and his shorter hair looking done up for the first time in a while. “You look amazing.” He took her hand and pulled her close enough for a kiss, pouting when it was shorter then he wanted it to be.

“Lipstick.” Eliza says unapologetically, smiling at him. “You look a lot more handsome in a tux then I remember, baby.” She fussed to straighten his tie, feeling his hands settle on the small of her back.

“Thanks, I think?” His face twists into a comically confused expression. Eliza laughs and pecks his lip again, maneuvering out of his grip to grab her small clutch purse and phone. “Ready?” He asks, holding out his hand. She nodded after taking a deep breath, allowing him to entwine their fingers. “You’re nervous for nothing, you know. They love you. George defended you when I was being an idiot about your…” he trailed off.

Eliza squeezes his hand as they make the short walk towards the hotel elevators. “Miscarriage, my love. Miscarriage. You have to be able to say the word before you can accept it.”

“Don’t have to accept it because it’s never going to happen again.” He says mock cheerfully, pressing the button. Eliza sighs at his comment, but didn’t reply, because god, she hoped he was right.

It was surreal, walking into this event. The entire place was lit up, a string quartet playing quietly in the background, waiters in white tuxes walking around with trays of champagne and appetizers. It was like a scene out of a movie. Alexander chuckles when she whispers that in his ear, her hand holding tightly onto his arm.

It didn’t take very long for work to find Alex, or more specifically, Aaron Burr with his dazzling, stoic wife Theodosia. Just enough small talk to be polite was exchanged before Alexander started prattling on about an upcoming case their firm was being tackled with. Burr’s faced paled considerably and Eliza had figured that maybe the case wasn’t as old news as Alexander seemed to act like it was. “Alexander, can you go get me a drink?” She interrupts sweetly, her free hand moving to grip the lapel of his jacket.

His eyes seem to melt into puddles the moment his gaze switches from Burr to herself. It makes her smile, but also feel a bit guilty to have taken advantage of his newly found border line annoying doting behavior. “Of course, baby. I’ll be right back.” He presses a kiss to her cheek, nodding towards Aaron and his wife, disappearing into the crowd.

“He’s lucky to have you, Eliza.” Aaron says after a bit of an awkward pause, taking one of his wife’s hand. “It’s honestly… refreshing to see him so happy again. We were all beginning to worry for him.”

Eliza smiles at him, mentally wondering if any of his colleagues really felt something for her over achieving, workaholic boyfriend’s wellbeing. “I think I’m the lucky one, really. But thank you.”

“Enjoy your evening.” He nods before offering his wife his arm. Eliza watches the slightly odd but admittedly elegant couple disappear into the crowd, the opposite direction of Alexander.

“Here we are, Betsey.” Alex appears a few seconds afterwards. She smiles wryly at the sound of her old nickname that had recently surfaced once again, taking the glass of champagne. Hopefully he won’t notice when she doesn’t take a sip.

He takes a sip of his own glass, humming. “Here, I think they’re supposed to enter here. If we go over there, we can buy more time.” He takes her hand and tugs her around the crowd to get to the other side of the room. He leads her into the corner of the room, sidelined from all the laughing, passive aggressive politicians and their wives.

She feels a bit better, in her secluded corner of the party, her best friend by her side, tucked under his arm. He took it upon himself to fill her in on the scandalous gossip that has surfaced for various of people around the room. He was just finishing up a story about Thomas Jefferson- one of Angelica’s old flings from college- and his much younger wife when the President and First Lady’s presence was announced.

The knot in her stomach tightens. She must look as panicked as she felt, because Alexander squeezes her a bit more against his side. She offers him a grateful smile, knowing how ridiculous she was being. She felt as though she was meeting Alexander’s parents for the first time, or something similar. She knew her boyfriend wouldn’t appreciate her comparison (he’d always had been weird about her jokes like that, and had apparently gotten into a few arguments with his at the time boss over the nickname ‘son’) but didn’t know how else to describe it.

They hung back for well over an hour, person after person approaching the esteemed couple. When there was finally a lull, Alexander turns to her. “Ready?”

Eliza nods once, unable to speak. She lightly elbows his side when he chuckles, secretly glad for the steadying hand he has on the small of her back. She watches as Martha’s eyes light up at the sight of them, her black skin looking beautiful against the bright red dress she chose for the evening. She watched as she elbowed her uncomfortable looking husband to get his attention.

“Mr. President, Mrs-” Alexander starts to say, getting cut off by one of Martha’s signature motherly hugs perhaps a bit inappropriate for the setting. He chuckles, hugging her back. “Hi, mom.” He says teasingly, a bit more understanding about the parent jokes towards Martha for some reason Eliza couldn’t understand.

Martha beams at Eliza, making the latter woman smile despite her nerves, accepting the gentler hug she gets in return. “Darling Liza. You look so beautiful and well, my dear.” The older woman says, practically grinning from ear to ear. “It’s so good to see you.” Eliza feels her heart twinge, missing the bond she once had with her. While their husbands were both on the campaign trail, Martha had invited Eliza over to their home for dinner at least once a week, and had grown very close. She felt as though Martha was a second mother to her, the pain of losing that relationship as well suddenly feeling fresh.

“It’s so good to see you too, Mrs. Washington. You look amazing, this job suits you as well as I predicted it would.” Eliza grins when the First Lady throws her head back and laughs, suddenly feeling much more confident.

“Ah, so you remember those conversations too?” Martha’s still beaming as she hugs Eliza once more. “Please, dear. Call me Martha. We’re too good of friends to call each other anything but first names, yes?”

“Of course.” Eliza smiles gratefully at the double meaning behind the older woman’s words, squeezing Alexander’s hand after he entwines their fingers again.

“Son.” George Washington speaks for the first time, his voice gruff and intimidating as Eliza remembers it being. He offered one of his hands out towards Alex, who shakes it firmly.

“Mr. President. Thank you so much for your invitation tonight, it’s been lovely.” Alex says, though his tone was dripping with sarcasm, probably for the son comment.

The president smiles crookedly at him, the first one Eliza’s seen all night. Her heart nearly stops beating when he looks at her. “Miss Schuyler,” he says, holding his hand out. The handshake they share is much more gentler then the previous one he shared with Alex. For some reason, it brings tears to Eliza’s eyes when he pats the back of her much smaller hand that was still engulfed in his. He was a man of few words, but this said plenty to her. She was forgiven.

The relief she felt was indescribable. She ignores her boyfriend’s very smug expression, but allows him to tuck her into his side again. “She’s been stressing over this party all week- ow!” he pouts when Eliza elbows him particularly hard.

The Washingtons chuckle at the younger couple, Martha still smiling brightly. “You had no reason to, dear. You have no idea how happy it makes me to see you two together again. You look happier then you were before, and I didn’t believe that was possible when I first met you.” Eliza blushes slightly, Alexander kissing her flushed cheek with a smile. “Of course, I was a little disappointed when Hamilton turned down George’s offer for the cabinet position, but we were so happy to hear why.”

Eliza’s smile dimmed slightly. “What position are you talking about?”

Martha’s beaming smile dims considerably too, Eliza batting away Alexander’s arm from where he was motioning at his throat to cut it out, his dark eyes wide.

“No, really. What position? I didn’t know you were offered any position.” Eliza insists, turning to address Alexander directly now, slight frown set on her face.

Alexander coughs once, clearly looking uncomfortable. “Oliver Wolcott is resigning at the end of the President��s term. Assuming he gets elected again, which is highly likely, the President kindly offered me the opportunity to take over his position as Secretary of the Treasury.” Eliza stares at him in disbelief.

“I’m so sorry,” Martha interjects, a guilty look on her face while the look on her husband’s was just plain discomfort. “I assumed that you’d spoken with her about it, Ham.”

“Don’t apologize, Martha.” Eliza cuts in before Alexander could. “It was perfectly rational for you to assume he would tell me something about a decision important as that one. Because that’s what people in adult relationships do. They tell each other things.” She addresses her boyfriend towards the end, irrationally hurt by being excluded in this decision.

“Betsey, I-” Alexander attempts to interject.

“No. We’ll finish this discussion later.” Eliza says shortly, turning back towards the President and First Lady. “It was wonderful to see you again. Thank you so much for your invitation. We won’t take up anymore of your time.” She embraces Martha again, shaking the President’s hand. After Alex says his goodbyes, Eliza’s the one to lead this time, tugging on Alexander’s hand. She heads straight for the exit, even if the party was only halfway done.

“Honey, I was hoping to catch a dance with you-” Alexander started to say once they were outside, away from prying ears.

“Not really in the dancing mood.” Eliza says pointedly, folding her arms across her chest as they wait for the valet to pull up their rental car. She doesn’t protest when Alex slings his jacket over her thin shoulders, ignoring the look of relief on his face.

“Eliza, I was going to tell you. It wasn’t even an official offer, and we had just-” he tries to explain again.

“We’ll talk about this when we get back to the room.” She interrupts him, staring ahead and not at him. “After we stop at a drug store.”

“What? Why a drug store?” Alex’s eyebrows furrow, still watching his girlfriend anxiously.

“We need to pick up a pregnancy test.”

- - -

Alexander had refused to leave her side at first, until she snapped at him that she didn’t want him to watch her pee.

She’d been on birth control, but she’d forgotten to take it for a few days. The days, of course, where they decided to celebrate their moving in together by having sex on literally every flat surface of the apartment.

They were now sitting in an anxious silence, Eliza sitting on the rim of the bathtub, Alexander leaning against the door facing her, the test waiting to be read in the sink. There was a timer going on Eliza’s phone, the tense couple watching each other silently.

“Wish I was there with you when you did this the first time.” He says to break the silence, tilting his head to the side to look at her. “You seem like an expert at this now.”

Eliza closed her eyes and smiled faintly, shaking her head. “Babe, you literally pee on a stick. It’s not hard to become an expert at it.”

“Still.” He sighs stubbornly, raking his sock clad feet against the tile of the bathroom floor.

“I do too.” She admits, looking down at her own feet, her toes freshly painted to match the color of the her dress. “It was really scary.”

She listens to him cross the room, seeing him kneel in front of her out of the corners of her eyes. He drapes his arms over her lap, leaning his chin on them until she looks at him. “Is it less scary now?”

“Yes.” She admits, watching him smile. One of her hand curls lightly around his jaw, cupping his scruffy cheek. “We’re older now. More financially prepared. But the fears are the same.”

“What do you mean?” He frowns, taking her hand from his cheek to hold it in both of his calloused ones.

She stays quiet for a moment, debating on what to say. “Hamilton, I want you to take that job.” She watched him groan and bury his face in their entangled hands. “I can’t believe I have to say this to you, but when the fucking President of the United States offers you a position in his cabinet, you say yes.”

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you.” He lifts his head to look at her. “I knew you’d make me take it.”

“Alex, this has been your dream since your junior year of college. You have to take it.”

“You’re my dream, Elizabeth Schuyler.” Alex shakes his head when she lets out a wet laugh. “I mean it. We’re in a really good place right now, and I don’t want an even more stressful job to ruin that.”

Eliza shakes her head. “Even if you didn’t take this job, we’d find another rough patch. That’s what life is, Alex. You can’t avoid conflict forever.”

“We may be having a baby.” He gestures with his head towards the sink. “You really want me to be in DC for your pregnancy?”

Eliza stares at him blankly. “You do realize that I’d be moving with you, right?”

“What?” The look of shock on his face is priceless. Like that was an option that never crossed his mind.

“Alex, I’m going to move with you.” Eliza says, biting back exhausted laughter. “You really think I’d stay in New York if you were here?”

Alexander hesitates, looking a tad embarrassed. “I don’t… You hate it here. You hate DC.”

“I think I’d hate New York without you there too.” She admits, running her fingers through Alexander’s slightly gelled hair.

“You hate politicians. We made fun of an entire room of them all night. You really want me to become one of those monsters?”

She smiles faintly. “You aren’t like them, baby. I don’t think I could ever hate you- I tried for two years, remember?”

“You hate politics.” Alex tries again, voice raising slightly. “I’m not letting you give anything else up for me ever again.”

“Alexander that’s what a fucking relationship is.” Eliza snaps. She regrets it immediately as she sees the forlorn look on her boyfriend’s face. “Look, I just. We can’t look at it as giving something up. We look at it as… a compromise. A way to lift each other up. Relationships are about compromising, right? Not one of us giving up more then the other. Finding a path that works partway for both of us and making our way through said path with whatever obstacle is thrown at us. We’re both going to have to give things up to make each other happy. This isn’t a one sided relationship, I’m not going to let that happen. You’ll resent me eventually if I do.”

He watches her for a moment. Eliza can just see his thoughts gathering. “What about the orphanage?”

“I can probably do more good here then in New York.” She says thoughtfully. “There’s always recently tarnished reputations, and politicians looking for ways to clean up. Think of the money we’ll get for those children.” Her tone gets a bit dreamy towards the end and they both chuckle.

“The kids, though.” He says again, frowning. “They mean so much to you. Would you be okay with not seeing them?”

Eliza hesitates, her heart aching slightly. A small smile takes up her face. “We might have a little one of our own soon. I think that’d be a good way to fill the void. And if not, Lottie will send me pictures. There’s FaceTime. We’d visit… I’d be okay.”

He cups her cheeks, making her look at him dead in the eye. “You’re truly okay with this?”

“Your dreams are my dreams.” She echoes his words from forever ago, their goodbye at the airport. Before everything went to shit.

Alexander sighed, resting their foreheads together. “I love you so much. I don’t think there’s words eloquent enough to describe how much I love you. You’re everything to me. I don’t deserve you, I never have. Even before I fucked everything up-”

Eliza shushes him, leaning forward to press their lips together in a soft kiss, a promise of some kind. The timer goes off and they break apart. “Ready?” She asks, nudging him off her knees to stand up, helping him to his feet. He nods and she takes two steps towards the sink, shaking her head. “No. I can’t look. You do it.”

She turns to face the shower, watching Alexander’s reflection. He pauses too, turning to face her. “I mean. You peed on this, should I really be the one-”

“Alexander-”

“Okay, okay.” He faces the sink again, lifting the test gingerly. She hears him sigh, a relieved sound. “Negative.”

“What?” She spins to face him.

“It’s negative, honey. You aren’t pregnant.” He takes a step forward to show her the test, handing it over. He watches her stare at the test, gauging her reaction. “I mean. This is a good thing, right?” He frowns, watching her eyes fill with tears.

“Yeah.” Her voice cracks and Alexander pulls her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her. She sniffles, burying her face into his shoulder. “I’m sorry. This is stupid, I. If we’re moving, we shouldn’t have to worry about a baby, I just…” she trails off, unable to admit the words.

“You want one.” Alexander finishes for her, pulling back slightly to look in her eyes. “I do too.”

“You do?” she sniffles.

“Of course I do.” He smiles sadly. “I’ve wanted once since I found out we lost one.” She swallows the lump in her throat, burying her face into him again. “If we both want one…?”

“What?” She doesn’t pull away. “You want to start trying?”

“No, I mean. I don’t think now’s the right time. I think we still have a lot to figure out, but. Maybe we could leave it up to fate?” He rubs her back, kissing her temple.

“What do you mean?”

He hums, pulling away again to see her face again. “I mean, instead of trying… What if we just.. stop trying not to have one? You could get off the pill. It takes most couples months of trying, maybe that’ll be enough time for us to get everything settled so we could be pregnant. That way, we’re still doing something, but being responsible too.” He smiles at her. “Sound okay?”

Eliza nods and buries her face into his neck again. “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Betsey. So much.” They sit in a comfortable silence, just holding each other.

“Maybe that gives us enough time to be married before we have a kid, too.” She says shyly, her face still hidden.

“Think I might be able to help with that part, at least.” Alex grins, pulling away to lead her into the other room, sitting her down on the bed. Eliza covers her mouth with her hand when he pulls a blue velvet box from his pocket. “Oh, come on. You can’t be that surprised.” His tone was full of mirth as he sunk to his knee in front of her.

“I never thought you’d ask me in DC.” She sniffles, covering her face with both hands for a moment before looking at him again.

“This is the place where I fucked everything up. It’s going to be the place where I make things right again.” He says simply, opening the box to reveal a beautiful, simple diamond ring. She was pleased to see he didn’t go overboard. The largest diamond was still a smaller one, surrounded by a cluster of even more small diamonds. The band was gold, and twisted around the band. It was delicate and beautiful and so very Eliza. “Your sisters may have helped me pick it out.” He admitted with a grin.

She lets out another small sob, thinking of her two best friends in on this beautiful surprise, shaking hand covering her mouth once more. Alexander laughs, though he’s getting a bit choked up too.

“Eliza… My Betsey. My love, my everything.” He pauses, getting too choked up to continue. Eliza laughs wetly, making him do the same. “I had this beautiful speech all planned out, but…” he shakes his head, and Eliza can see his hands shaking slightly. Is he actually nervous? He takes a deep breath before he continues on. “But I can’t think of it. You, I. That’s what you do to me, Liza. That’s what you’ve done to me since I was a twenty two year old law student. It’s been twelve years now and you still take my breath away. You… fuck, you still make me nervous. I still get butterflies when I see you waiting outside a restaurant for a quick lunch date. You make me feel things. You make me feel things more then I’ve ever felt in my life- and that’s with all the emotions. We don’t do things halfway, do we? If we’re fighting, we’re screaming at the top of our lungs. If we’re happy, we’re breaking open the most expensive bottle of wine we have and we’re celebrating like there’s no consequences. You drive me crazy, baby. You make me so frustrated that I want to tear my hair out half the time but the next moment you make me want to love you a thousand times more then I did before- a feat that I don’t ever think is possible. But that’s the amazing thing about us, baby. Isn’t it? We love each other more and more every day, because we know what it’s like to be without each other. I’ve seen what my life is like without you, Eliza. And I have no desire or intention of ever living like that again. Even when we broke up, I knew that you’d never just be my past. I’ve always known that you were always my past, present and future. I love you so much more then I ever thought was possible, and I’ve loved you like that since the day I met you.”

Eliza sniffles, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. “Hurry up and ask me so I can kiss you, idiot.” She says, no malice in her tone.

Alexander smiles, rolling his eyes that are full of tears. “Elizabeth Schuyler, would you please do me the unprecedented honor of becoming my wife again?”

“Yes.” Eliza says simply, unable to manage anything else. She holds out her left hand, noticing that she was trembling too, her breath hitching when he slides the ring onto her finger. She doesn’t take even a brief pause to admire the ring, grabbing him by his dress shirt and tugging him forward for a long kiss.

They make love like they hadn’t been together for months, even though they had just done so the night before. It’s so sweet that Eliza finds herself tearing up up quite a few times, Alexander kissing away her tears as he rocks into her.

“A perfect fit.” He says softly, a while afterwards, admiring the sweet ring on her dainty finger. Her hand was spread out along his, as Eliza was admiring the difference between the sizes of their hands. “It’s beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.” She hums, pressing a kiss to his chest before letting her eyes fall shut. She goes to sleep feeling more content then she has in what feels like a very long time, curled up in her fiancé’s capable arms.

- - -

“Hey, Ang, I forgot to ask you to grab more packing tape, is there any possible way you brought- Mom?” Eliza stops in her tracks, frowning. She was dressed in leggings and an old ratty flannel, her face bare of any makeup, hair tied up in a twist bun tied together by a pencil. She looked exactly like a woman who has been packing her entire life up into boxes and attempting to plan a small wedding should look like. She didn’t look anything at all like what she wanted to when she finally did see her mother after what happened the last time they spoke. “What’re you doing here?”

Catherine smiles a bit sadly, shrugging off her tan peacoat to reveal herself to be wearing a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, an attire Eliza hasn’t seen her mother wear in years. “I’ve come to help. I brought plenty of packing tape, and I have more boxes in the back of my car.”

Eliza smiles after a while, grateful. “Thank you.”

“Where should I start?” She sets her hands on her hips, looking around the crowded living room without blanching, something which Eliza appreciates. It’s something she’s always admired about her mother- she’s never been afraid of anything.

“Those books over there, please.” Eliza watches her mother get to work out of the corner of her eye, her now mostly silver blonde hair pulled up into a loose bun. They work in silence for a while, Eliza being unable to decipher if it was a comfortable silence or not.

She was going through the box that Alexander had attempted to pack last night, trying to be helpful. All the photo frames but one weren’t wrapped, and it made her roll her eyes. He wasn’t lazy, so why did he only wrap one- oh.

Eliza had never been more terrified.

She was finally in her new home, her new huge home, one bigger then Miss Windham’s but with fewer people. She had her own room, separated from her sisters. It was a nice room, she knew. One with a big window that had a really pretty view.

She also knew the Schuylers were really really nice and told her to call them mom and dad whenever she was ready.

What if she wasn’t ever ready? Would they give her up like her other mom and dad did? Would she be separated from Angie and Peggy forever?

There was a sudden soft knock at her door. She turned around from the window to look and see who it was. It was Mrs. Schuyler, looking as beautiful as ever, her smile being even more kind than she remembered, a file in her hand. “Can I sit with you?”

Eliza nodded numbly, hugging her knees to her chest. Mrs. Schuyler sat next to her on the window sill after setting the file onto the bed- Eliza’s bed? She looked out the window along with her.

“How come you aren’t unpacking, sweet girl?”

Eliza’s lower lip wobbled, and she hid her face in her knees before she started to cry.

“Oh, honey. Come here, sweet girl. Tell me what’s wrong?” Mrs. Schuyler wrapped one of her arms around Eliza’s shaking form. The little girl didn’t like how she instantly felt better, because what was she going to do when they sent her back?

“I-I’m not unpacking because… because you’ll send me back. And I don’t want to go back!” Eliza’s small body wracked with her sobs, and she hid her face in Mrs. Schuyler’s sweater.

“Honey, why on earth would we ever send you back?” Mrs Schuyler tried to reason. “Your father- Mr. Schuyler and I wanted you and your sisters to come live with us so badly that we adopted you. We’d never send you back, Eliza. We love you and your sisters more then anything already.”

“T-thats what my old mommy and daddy said too. But they sent me away.” Eliza sniffled, her face still hidden. “They took me away from my real mom but then sent me away all alone.”

Mrs Schuyler hummed thoughtfully, rubbing the little girl’s back soothingly. Eliza now imagines she was thinking, how do you explain to a child the difference between a foster home and an orphanage? How do you explain to a little girl that her foster parents, who she believes to be her mom and dad, were abusive? How can you explain that to a child?

“Do you know what your last name is, sweetheart?” She finally asked.

“E-Elizabeth.”

“Hm, yes. Very good. Only I meant your last name, sweet girl.” She said patiently.

“I don’t know.” Eliza frowned, thinking about it. “Do I not have one?” A fresh wave of tears formed in her eyes at the thought.

“You do now. It’s Schuyler. You’re Elizabeth Schuyler, and you’ll be a Schuyler for the rest of your life. Even if you find a nice boy to marry, and you take his name-” she chuckled when Eliza made the most disgusted face she could manage, “you’ll still be a Schuyler. Do you understand what that means?” She smiled kindly when Eliza shook her head. “It means that you’re always going to be my daughter, and I’m always going to be your mom.”

“You’re really my mom now?” Eliza asked skeptically, eyebrows furrowed.

Mrs. Schuyler nodded, standing up and grabbing the file. She sat crosslegged in front of Eliza, lifting the six year old on her lap. Once she was settled, she opened the file. “Now, I heard you telling Mr. Schuyler that you are learning how to read and spell things. Is that true?” Eliza nodded enthusiastically, excited about her new skill, making the woman laugh. “Can you spell your name?”

“E L I Z A.” Eliza recited proudly, beaming.

“Good job! Could you tell me what that says?” she pointed to a set of words on a certificate of some sort, written in fancy letters. Eliza recognized an E, an L, an I, and a- oh!

“It’s my name!”

“Very good! And that,” she points to another bundle of letters. “What does that say? Can you sound it out?”

“Cat. Cat ther. Cat ther ine. Catherine. Catherine?” Eliza mispronounced the name, but the point settled in her brain. “Oh. It’s your name. And that’s Mr. Schuylers. Philip.”

“You’re such a smart reader, Miss Eliza.” Mrs Schuyler pressed a kiss to her still damp from tears cheek, beaming. “But do you know what this means?” The little girl shook her head. “This is a paper that means you’re officially my daughter, and that I’m your mother. Forever.”

Eliza touched the paper gingerly, amazed that a piece of paper could mean that much.

“How about this, we can find a frame for it, and hang it in your room? That way whenever you’re sad, or scared, you always know that I’m your mom. Does that sound okay?” Eliza hugged her tightly instead of answering, and Mrs Schuyler’s answering hug was just as tight.

She helped her unpack her few things, and they hung the certificate on the wall next to her bed. A few weeks later, a photo of Eliza and her mother taken on that very day would be hung next to it. It remained there for the twelve years she lived in that room, and followed her through college, Europe, marriage and divorce.

Mrs. Schuyler didn’t lie to that little girl. Eliza’s mother never lied to her.

Eliza gingerly touches the dirty glass, mentally reminding herself to clean it when they arrived at their new home in only three days time- a townhouse in DC.

“I’m sorry,” both women blurt out at the same time. They both laugh afterwards, setting whatever was in their hands down.

“No, honey. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Catherine shakes her head, moving across the room to sit on the arm of the couch- the one piece of furniture she was leaving here, the rest of the room bare, hesitantly tucking a lock of Eliza’s hair behind her ear. “Your father and I raised you to be an independent, strong, woman, to be unapologetic for who you are- and that includes who you love. You’ve become exactly that, Eliza. And I was upset, admittedly, because I don’t want you to get hurt again. But I was also unbelievably proud.” Eliza laughs while her mother beams. “You’re already twice the woman I ever was at your age.”

Eliza stares at her. “Are you kidding me? Mom, you’re like, Angelica on steroids. You’re the most badass woman- no, person, that I know. I’ve never been even close to reaching your level.”

Catherine smiles, shaking her head. “Want to know a secret? I was- and am, constantly terrified. Especially when you girls were growing up. I loved you all so much from the moment I first laid eyes on you guys. And I was terrified I was going to mess you up. Your father and I had absolutely no fucking clue what we were doing for the majority of the time.” Eliza chuckles at her mother swearing. “And I love our pretty Ang, more then anyone, but. I have a feeling she’s always felt the same way. She’d never show it, but she’s most likely terrified. Terrified of marrying that man of hers, terrified of opening her own practice, terrified of her best friend moving away to start a life without her… but you’d never guess, would you?” Eliza stays quiet, feeling a twinge of guilt. “Now, don’t go overthinking again, sweetheart. You need to go and live your life. Angie will be fine, Peggy will watch over her. I guess I’m just telling you this to say… out of all of us Schuyler women, I think we’re all agreed that you’re the strongest.”

“What?”

“Honey, do you not realize what you’ve done? You’ve gone back to that orphanage, back to the place that you had literal nightmares of going back to, and you’ve saved it. You’ve made it better. You followed your heart even with your father and I begging you not to. You trust yourself, and you trust your heart. That’s a skill most of us take years mastering. I mean, look what you’ve done with your Hamilton.”

Eliza smiles wryly. “Some would see that as a weakness- I thought even you did, at first. Crawling back to your ex. Isn’t that like, anti feminist?”

“Elizabeth Schuyler, we both know that’s not what you did.” Her mother shakes her head. “You took a risk probably bigger then one I’ve ever done in my entire life- one that takes much more strength then anyone knows, but comes second nature to you. You forgave him. With your lovingly protective idiotic mother screaming at you to do the opposite, you took the leap, and you forgave him. There’s an unbelievable amount of grace and dignity in that decision, sweetheart. You’re an amazing woman, and I can only hope I can become half of what you are in whatever number of years I have left.”

Eliza swallows roughly and lunges forward to hug her mother tightly. “I love you, mom.”

“I love you too, my sweet Eliza.” Catherine takes a deep breath, ignoring how her voice had cracked. “Okay. Enough blubbering. Now, let me see that ring.”

- - -

Their wedding was small, Angelica noticed. It was minuscule in comparison to their first one.

The only people in attendance were Eliza’s parents and sisters, and Alexander’s college friends (Hercules FaceTimed Laf), Aaron and Theodosia Burr, Martha and George Washington (plus all their security).

The bride looked beautiful in her simple white tool dress, the lace belt hugging her waist, the loose material hiding her sweet secret of her growing belly.

The ceremony was all very emotional, not one dry eye in their small audience (no matter how hard Peggy insisted that she did not cry dammit).

After a small dinner reception with a few toasts, the once more newly wedded couple were left alone in their new home, and their new bliss. They weren’t heard from for a week straight. When they finally were communicating again, it was all short phone conversations of no substantial evidence on how the hell things were going. That lasted for a few weeks.

Angelica was growing incredibly anxious. It wasn’t like Eliza to do this to her. She nearly flew out to DC three times in one week, her own fiancé being the one thing holding her back. Just when she was absolutely convinced she couldn’t take it anymore, a sonogram image was sent in the Schuyler sisters group chat.

Baby Ham coming soon. Due date’s in September! xx EH

Um. What? We’re just hearing about it NOW?! PS

I fucking hate you for keeping this from us! PS

Tell the hubby congrats. Love you both so much. PS

Sorryyy! We wanted to be for sure that I was out of the danger zone before telling anyone. Love you too, Peg. Ang? What do you think? I know you’re reading, my Angie senses are tingling. EH

You two are so weird. PS

I’m so happy for you, Betsey. I love you so much. AS

In less then a minute, she received a lone text from her sister.

I think it’s a girl. Wanna know her name? EH

Ooh, fun game. Let me guess. Rachel? That was Ham’s mom’s name, yeah? I bet it’s that or Catherine. AS

Both beautiful names, but nope. EH

She’s named after some other amazing woman who has been my role model since I can remember. One that I love more then anything. EH

But it’s not mom? Martha? AS

She’s going to be called Angelica. EH

- - -

Angelica Hamilton was born into the wee hours of September 27th.

It was easily one of the hardest and best days of Eliza’s life. She cried, which made Alexander cry. She thought that she’d only ever remember the pain, but from the moment her sweet baby was placed in her arms, she knew that that moment was the only thing that mattered. Not the pain, not the tears, not the yelling.

Everything herself and her husband went through, she decided, was leading up to this moment. Their relationship somehow morphed them into the beings they had to be before becoming parents to their little miracle. All the heartache they both had to endure was well worth it. It was for Eliza, at least. Everything was worth the look on Alexander’s face when their tiny daughter was placed in his arms the first time. She wouldn’t change a thing about her life, or the steps it took to get there.

She missed her first baby. She was always going to miss him (she was convinced he would have been a boy) but she still had plenty of love in her heart for their second baby, even with the hole that losing the first one left.

She tells Alexander that, one night. The first night they’re home. Little Angelica is laying between them, Eliza exhausted, tucked under an equally exhausted Alexander’s arm. They both have no desire to sleep, however. They just want to sit and watch their tiny piece of love breathe.

Alexander hums in reply to her comment, pressing a kiss to Eliza’s temple. “This little girl is never going to want for anything, especially love. Is she?”

“No. Never.” Eliza turns his head to kiss his lips. “And neither are you.”

He smiles softly, nosing at her cheek. “Go to sleep, mama. She’ll be up to eat soon.”

Eliza nodded, cuddling into his chest. “Let’s have another when I wake up.” She doesn’t hear his reply, but can feel his shoulders shake from his laughter.

She’s not worried anymore.

Life throws unexpected curveballs at everyone. Her family’s going to be no different. She knows they’ll have problems. That her and Alexander are going to fight, that their perfect baby is going to grow up into a teenager one day and probably go through a period where she can’t stand either of her parents. For some reason, she know’s that whatever happens, she’s going to be alright.

She’ll have her husband, her sisters, her parents and her two babies in her heart always. She’s going to keep them there for as long as she wants, for forever. Because she can.

#my fic #because she can #hamliza #alexander x eliza #hamiltion fic #eliza schuyler #eliza hamilton #alexander hamilton

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easilyaddictedin123 · 7 years

Text

Clashing of Wilds and Blood

Alright people this thing is long. LONG. And will you look at that? Looks like its gonna have multiple chapters oh boy.

PT2 : https://easilyaddictedin123.tumblr.com/post/162902440496/clashing-of-wilds-and-blood

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You had come to visit your half-sister, a rare and delightful privilege to escape under the thumb of the King Aelle, they day had been simple and calm. Judith was settled into the corner as you reached over to put Alfred in check upon the board. The ‘clack’ echoed in the room of stone as you settled back in the chair with a smirk, Judith chuckled slightly at the sight. You were younger than your half-sister, a passing baroness that had taken the king to her bed was your lineage and Aelle had been forced to keep you on condition of her death, a new pawn to use in his political gain, marriage wasn’t suitable for your bastard birth at least for the moment. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he would find some use for you and your wild nature. Refusing this and that, sneaking away to do as you pleased.

Here though? Here was free, as free as you could muster at least. Ecbert cared little if you roamed the stone halls with feet bare, nor worried of hands that slipped knives and coin from various hips of the guards, the sharp tongue trading insults and wit. You could toss h/c locks over your shoulder loose without care, walk in the streets with the sun beating off your skin. It was amusing and in ways perhaps he encouraged it still thinking of you as Judith’s wide e/c eyed curious baby sister. Alfred’s groan brought you from musings as he slumped into the seat even further.

“You cheated, i don’t know how but you cheated.” Judith laughed as you began to reset the board.

“Pay more attention and you might win this time.” You chuckle was stopped short by yells and the distinct clang of metal, the soldiers, “Judith, Alfred, stay here.”

“Why do you get to g-” Judith silenced her son as you slipped from the room to look into the courtyard, Aethelwulf seemed to be parading around a man in worn clothes almost as if he’d been the one to pry the nails from Jesus’ hands and free him.

The man’s beard was wiry and long, no hair graced his head showing tattoos, scars and age settled into the deep lines of his face. He looked unarmed, and tired. Behind them thrown over a horse was someone. Short black hair, broad shoulders, narrow hips and tossed unceremoniously over a horse. He was crippled. You couldn’t hear what was being shouted at the guards but he was roughly dragged down and off through the mud with the man.

Aethelwulf looked up to see you bluntly observing the scene. His scowl deepened at your condescending smile, he’d never like you. Mostly because of your complete disregard for anything he said to you and refusal to obey any rules he attempted to press. You raised a hand in a menial wave just to incite his anger further in attempt to sour any triumph he might have felt. He stormed off after them while you slipped back into the room where an eager Alfred and questioning Judith.

“Aethelwulf is pompous as always but he’s parading around two men like they’re jewels.” Alfred chuckled at the tone of your voice but Judith frowned, “Oh, mind your face sister dearest, I’ll find out who they are for you.”

“You mean you’ll find out who they are for you.” The woman teased gently although you could tell she was just as curious and wary of who her husband had brought into the dungeons of the castle.

“I’ll go too!” Alfred offered excitedly watching in growing suspense as you crossed your arms and jutted your hip to the side, “ I can be quiet, even you said I’m getting better! Besides I’m the one that King Ecbert likes more. I can get away with it!”

“Alfred, that’s why y/n is going first.” -he looked distraught at his mother- “You may be your grandfather’s favorite but that means he’s all the more protective of you.”

“She’s a point.” You smiled gently, ruffling his brown hair, “Besides I’ll bring you to see who they are next, I promise. I wouldn’t want soot and dirt to soil those cheeks of yours by pressing against a dingy wall now would I?”

He pushed your hands off his face with a grin, “Fine. But you promised.”

You pulled your hair back and straightened out the dress, tugging on the belt to make it flair more dramatically to your curves and stood straight. In the case that you couldn’t ‘persuade’ the guards with sultry looks and soft words you held a small coin purse with silver in it as you made your way down the halls. Servants moved by, some nodding in a greeting, others with curious looks as to why you were heading to the kitchens but to be seen going there would be a better story as to why you were absent from Judith.

“And where do you think you’re off to, m’lady?” The voice caused you to freeze, it was on old one from childhood that had scolded and schooled you.

“Damn you old hag.” -you muttered under your breath before turning- “Off to the kitchens, Maude.”

“It’s a sin to lie, Y/N, besides we both know better.” The woman was old, you could swear that she was around when God was a little boy, with long grey hair ,that had remnants of black from her youth, pulled up tightly into a bun and judgmental green eyes that could stare into the soul of Satan and terrify him.

Maude had been one of the ‘possessions’ your mother had left you as an infant on King Aelle’s door, the woman was irritable, deceptively strong, sarcastic, and was never going to die. Not that you prayed for that, God’s sake no, but there were days when you wished she’d just look the other way. The crone seemed to always be at least three steps ahead of whatever you were thinking or what you were going to do, if you actually accomplished something successfully and smoothly it was because she hadn’t caught you. Or pretended to not have caught you. . .

“I’m not lying, I am going to the kitchen.” She quirked up an eyebrow while once full lips tugged ever so slightly downwards.

“That so is it?” You mentally shuddered, she knew and she would open her mouth and you’d be sent back to Judith with your proverbial tail tucked between your legs, “I suggest you get some of the fresh bread. It’s still warm and other mouths might enjoy it, eh?”

A smile spread across your lips as she tilted a head, perhaps she was curious about the men too or maybe she was in a good mood? Whatever the reason you weren’t going to question it as you slipped away into the kitchens, the best place to learn what was going on. Everyone gossiped in the kitchens and no one minded you as King Aelle’s bastard child was still a bastard after all it was the perfect place to grab up something for Aethelwulf’s dubbed prisoners and see if anyone knew who they were.

The smell of sweets, pies, roast, vegetables and bread wafted through the air making the sense of a home flood your being. It was alive with chatter, firewood crackling, dished banging, and tools cutting or preparing for tonight’s dinner. The gossip was far and wide from someone being pregnant, another losing their cow, a dragon spotted flying east and witchcraft being practiced with chicken blood. Useless.

“Lily!” The woman turned at your voice and smiled, already cutting off a hunk of warm bread for you to snatch up, “I’ve a question to ask.”, of course asking with a full mouth was rude but the bread was heated and had a hint of cinnamon to it.

“Oh I’m sure, tryin to rat out who’s who today m’lady?” Of course Lily knew, she knew everything, “They say the Lordships caught a King of the North.”

“You mean The King of the North, Ragnar Lothbrok?” You swallowed the bread harshly as she watch your e/c eyes widen in excitement, “Where is he at, who is the cripple, do you think I can get there?”

“Aye, they’re holding ‘im in the bottom dungeon. Don know ‘bout the cripple though, don’t think Lor’ Aethelwulf is all too worried wit him. Somethin not right bout ‘im, I think, he looked ready to kill when they brough ‘im in he did. Some bread for your huntin today?” She had already taken another large piece -too large for just you- in a cloth along with a closed cup of water.

You leaned over the table kissing one red cheek and dashed out with your prize. It would be easy to get into the dungeon this way so you weren’t seen by too many people, slip out of the back door of the kitchen, pick up your dress so the mud didn’t dirty it too much from walking behind the stabled, throw a rock to frighten the horses. One of the guards walked away from the door and you slipped out, making your hips sway more than they did you caught the remaining man’s attention. A lecherous thing with eyes locked on the way you moved.

“I’ve come to see what the fuss is all about.” Being blunt with him didn’t worry you.

“Dungeons no’ place for a lady.” He breathed out watching you bite your lower lip, eyes looking up from beneath long lashes.

“Who claimed I was a lady?” You kept one hand out of his sight that held your ‘treats’ the other tugged on the belt of his armor pulling him to you, “Even women of the night wear dresses good sir, would you like to find out which one I am?”

The guard swallowed uncertainly as you drew him closer, a smirk rising on your lips. One thing you’d learned from women of all kinds, men bow to them even if they didn’t want to admit it. The guard was a pawn in your chess game, he was yours to use. And you were going to. You had to roll up onto the tips of your toes to keep his seemingly hazed eyes on you instead of the reality of his situation for the moment.

He leaned down enough for your lips to almost brushed his, “Of course you’d have to let me in, and be brave enough to go against King Ecbert.” He wasn’t listening instead a gloved hand squeezed your hip the metal gauntlet gripping harsh enough to make you wince, “After all, you did just leave marks on his beloved and defenseless daughter in law.”

That brought the guard back with a jerk and hiss, “I did no such thing.”

“That so? Shall I lift up my dress in a few hours to show how hard those gauntlets can be? To add salt to injury shall I run crying to my father-in-law at how you were talking nonsense? A noble woman like myself being trusted over a simple guard. Who would win his word, do you think?” You smiled, pleased with your work and how simple it had been, “Of course this could be looked over if you let me in.”

“Witch.” He spat out but opened the door nonetheless while you had to stop yourself from practically skipping in.

Murky water pooled on some of the stone steps making your feet echo occasionally in sloshes, you dare not touch the walls to steady yourself knowing that the green you could see in the low light dancing off the walls was not moss.

The deeper and deeper you’d trekked the colder it became, unwelcomed not that most dungeons were but the air was dank with death as some of the prisoners died in their cells of that you had no doubt. The maids told stories about the desperate calls of the tortured rising in the air with their haunting wails. You had to take a breath to steel yourself, you had wanted this and you were going to get it. Coming off the last step of the spiraling stone you saw him.

The cage was rusted and dangled a few feet above ground, the man was beaten, bloody, and nothing like you imagined the legend yet exactly what you imagined all at once. Ragnar Lothbrok was a man, you knew that, he would bleed if he was cut. Yet; there always was something about him that was ethereal, he was the pride of the Northmen, their banner, their calling horn, their legend. Now he was caged like an animal and you felt a surge of pity gnawing at your chest.

“I know you’re there.” His voice was rugged, cracked as if he hadn’t had anything to drink yet.

“I know, I wanted to see the great King Ragnar Lothbrok.” You stepped closer for him to see all of you.

He snorted and gestured to himself, “Everything you expected?”

“Yes and no.” He tilted his head at the answer while you tore off a piece of bread and took out some water, “I imagined a grand army storming over the hills but it’s just you. Even then you must be a great warrior for Aethelwulf to cage you like this.”

“You’ve a different way of looking at things.” He took the food and water you offered, calloused hands not taking advantage of you though he had a small inkling.

“It’s found me in trouble more than once.” He chuckled at that, “Who was the cripple they brought with you?”

Ragnar looked at you, instead of insulting you’d been oddly kind and looked transfixed almost by his existence, “My son.”

“I thought Northmen didn’t suffer crippled babes.” You offered more drink to the man, he could tell you weren’t a servant, you were too well dressed, too clean, you hands hadn’t known a day of hard work.

“Sometimes an exception is made, lady…”

“Y/N, just Y/N no need for the lady bit.” You smiled at the warm chuckle and light in his previously dimmed eyes.

They were blue like a clear sky, the one that wasn’t swollen at least, and he seemed kind in a way. He knew you were a lady of standing and hadn’t made move to hurt you, there was something in that simple action. You spoke plainly to each other with questions pouring from your mouth in abundance. Ragnar answered them, you reminded him of a young child thirsty for any part of the world you could get. Perhaps you were, trapped behind walls of stone and rules never knowing the freedom that he could see bursting at your every word.

He asked questions too, about the castle, about Ecbert and Aethelwulf, even about yourself and small adventures that you were shy to admit. He laughed a bit at the antics you had created, the wild chaos that you seemed to revel in. The small freedoms. You might have made a good Viking if given the chance, instead of being wasted away by Aelle. The restrictions like harsh waves beating against a defiant rock, soon you’d be chipped away enough to know nothing but what the King demanded of you.

“I’d ask a favor, Y/N.” You nodded, not noticing between the two you’d finished the sweet bread and water, “I would like to know of my son.”

“I’ll try, I’m not sure where they’re keeping him but it can’t be that hard. Besides it’s the least I can do for you letting me talk and question you.” Ragnar debated on telling you that he enjoyed the curiosity that he’d seen in Athelstan that was reflected in yourself.

“It would be more than enough thanks.” You nodded and jumped at the sound of armor making it’s way down the stairs, you picked up the cup and cloth to hide behind a device used to hold the prisoners still and refused to make a sound at the scent of blood wafting over you.

The voice was sharp, Aethelwulf no doubt coming to torture the King more than he needed to. With him and the soldiers backs turned you crept back up the stairs and out, the guard you’d entrapped scowled at your passing. You took the way back into the castle and nearly running in excitement to Judith’s room. Stepping in interrupted your half-sister’s stitching and Alfred’s chess game with himself, your face was beaming and you practically glowed with excitement to answer all their questions and regale them with what you’d learn and seen. Alfred seemed just as transfixed as you had been learning about their gods. You’d learn of how women were equal, all fought, all worked, all loved, their goddesses were strong and free. The simple way he’d said it had called to something pure and wanting, they were free. Their women were allowed to be wild and reckless. They were allowed to fight or farm and even rule.

“But what about the cripple?” You bit your lip looking at Judith.

“I’m not sure, I don’t even know where they would have taken him. No one in the kitchen’s knows and the guards won’t tell me if I asked.” You began to tap your nails against your hip in thought.

“I could.” Alfred spoke up with a mischievous grin, “I could say I saw them and wanted to know of the cripple. They’d tell me because they have to.”

A smirk broke your face while you turned to him, “You little hellion, alright, if we can find out then we both go to see him.”

The look Judith gave you blandly stated that he would but you would leave it up to her to tell him. Alfred excitedly ran out to question despite your ‘slight’ protest about him being so blunt.

“You are a horrible influence, you know that Y/N?” Judith sighed as you grinned at her.

“Oh come on, he needs to live just a little. Being under Aethelwulf’s thumb and being a bastard atop of that. He needs my bad influence to blame his faults on. I’d rather take the hit than him.” Your voice was quiet as she placed a hand on your shoulder, being brazen and true to the storm in your blood had given you bruises before.

Never scars. No. They’d leave too much of a mark but bruises you could bare, bruises to keep the ones you love from never having to be harmed. It was a fair price in your eyes. The door pushed open with a smiling Alfred who bounded over, much like you imagined a puppy would, looking pleased with himself.

“They’re not keeping him in one of the lower dungeons. He’s in a cell in the east wing instead.” You pinched his cheek at the answer. “I’m make a bad apple out of you yet, Alfred just you wait and see.” You smiled and went to walk out as Alfred was stopped by Judith.

You didn’t stay for the argument to come instead walked boldly to the east wing cells. They weren’t heavily guarded in the first place atop him being incapable of walking would leave him without many. The east wing cells were connected with the oubliettes below but by a winding maze of columns and halls that you had no desire nor time to navigate.

“Princess Y/N.” The tone was questioning as you walked to the door Ragnar’s son was obviously being kept in.

“I’m just passing by, making friends with the guards as always.” You pulled out two silver for each of them, “I hear the inn is having a special on spiced mead.”

“Talked to you as you were passing by to the kitchens, we did, m’lady.” They opened the door and you smirked.

The cell was still a cell. The rank smell didn’t drift up through the stone floors, but little light shone from the window. The room was empty of any comfort, a board for a bed and on the bed a man. His eyes was a startling blue, unlike his father’s these shone brightly, filled with wariness and vibrant fury at you visage.

“Do you speak my language?” He sat up, shifting his legs that were bound together tilting his head, perhaps debating something but not having spoken, “Is that a no? Shame I was going to tell you about your father.”

“What about him.” His voice was thick with accent talking before scowling with the realization of the trap you’d sat upon your grin and how he’d walked into it.

“Ah, so you do.” He snarled and even without his legs on use you couldn’t help the shiver running down your spine, not sure if it was a good or bad sensation, “He’s alright, as much as he can be. Aethelwulf is a sick man but your father’s strong.”

“What would you know of it?” The question was spat out like poison from a wound.

“I know quite a bit, King Ragnar was telling me about your gods. They’re...fascinating.” He raised an eyebrow at that, “It’s just...they give so many rights, so much freedom to do as you please. It’s strange.”

“Your God is strange.” You sighed at that not to sure that you could talk to him like his father, “Tell me of your God and I’ll show tell you our better ones.”

You grinned, it seemed a fair trade.

~~~

Ivar had been dragged away from his father, mud caked up on his legs, roughly tossed inside the room. He wanted to scream, to kill, to fight, but then the Christians would be threatened and he’d have no idea what would happen next. He trusted his father, he needed to wait. The room was bare of anything, save for a plank to be used as a bed and a small table with a chair that looked ready and able to cave in on itself.

He was antsy as he growled crawling over to the slab that would be his bed. He could do nothing. There was sunlight so he knew it was still day, but there was no way to ease the chaos bounding through his mind. The rampant berating over how he should be better, how he cursed his legs, how he hated this. He wasn’t sure how long he imprisoned himself in his own mind until the door creaked open.

Ivar was prepared for guards, torture, but not for what walked in. She was his age, in a red form fitting dress, her hair was tangled loose around her, lips upturned in a grin at the sight of him. An alluring woman, he didn’t like her already.

“Do you speak my language?” He wanted to scoff, despite the curiosity of the voice and who it was coming from, despite it he played the idiot, “Is that a no? Shame I was going to tell you about your father.

He’d spoken before actually thinking about it, questioning and watching a satisfied look cross her face, she had laid a plain trap and like a child he stumbled into it. He disliked her with an extreme tidal wave of emotion. She told him of his father’s fairing and looked even hopeful at the mention of his Gods. She was infuriating and untrustworthy and he swore a she had a bewitchment in those e/c eyes. Like hooks to the soul to drag people to their deaths in the depths.

They spoke of small things, simple. She was in amazement of how his people worked. How they all carried themselves, how they all were tied to each other. It was a harsh knock at the door that sent her jumping from the floor she’d settled herself on in front of him.

“That’s my cue.” She sighed brushing off her dress, “A warning, i’m going to come back tomorrow.”

Ivar waved her off with the same disinterest he did a slave, she still smiled, “My name’s Y/N, we’re bound to talk a lot so you should know.”

He mused over the idea of not telling her, letting her guess and come back with a new idea for who he was. She was imaginative and quick witted, anything she’d make would most likely insult him but there was amusement in that thought.

“I might tell you my name, but not today.” Y/N looked furious for a moment then puzzled and at last determined.

“I’ll give you one then. Be warned.” and she slipped out of the room that seemed somehow more cold than it had been.

Ivar scowled at the door, he did not enjoy her company, he did not want to see the way she would light up at a new discovery, he did not want to be puzzled at how a woman like her hadn’t given his useless legs any regard. He did not want to see her again. A small voice from somewhere in his mind silenced the storming and thunderous rage for a moment with a simple word.

‘Liar.’

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