#like lemon :) and then my mom gets home and I float the idea of putting a bowl of lemon juice or lemon water in there and she immediately

[beanmaster-pika]

My mom nixed the lemons so now I’m gonna smell like cinnamon for the rest of my life (<- exaggeration)

[collecting-stories]

Cardigan - Rafe Cameron

Request: heyy for the ts anthology, can u do one for cardigan with rafe? love ur writing🤍 

TS Anthology Series | Outer Banks Masterlist

_ . ◦ ⭐︎:*.☾.*:⭐︎◦∙._

The summer you turned thirteen was the same summer your dad showed up again. Driving the same lemon of a car that he’d pulled out of the driveway in when you were six, he looked like he hadn’t aged. Or maybe you just didn’t remember him all that well because his face felt the same but you were different. When you missed your best friend’s birthday, a trip to the gymnastics gym on the mainland and a towering cake with fondant replicas of all her favorite things, she was rightly pissed.  

Thirteen felt monumental, like the movie the two of you had snuck onto your mom’s Verizon bill, and you had both made a pact that you would be there for each other no matter what. That promise included birthdays and, more seriously, dads who showed up after seven years of radio silence because they didn’t want to “miss anything else”. But you didn’t mention your dad because hers was so great and you felt a little like you were floating on an island and no one could understand you enough to reach it. But then you missed her birthday and she swore not to speak to you and that felt more crushing than the dad thing until her brother stepped in. Always the one playing referee in when you fought, Rafe was a few years older and, in your mind, a lot smarter.  

It felt pretty important that an older boy would make the time to talk to you, especially when he had to know that his sister was avoiding you at all costs. He’d just gotten his permit and, like any good brother, showed up in the car he wasn’t supposed to drive with a minor in the passenger seat, to take you around the island for the afternoon.  

“My mom said she thinks we’re gonna move.” You mentioned, less casually than you would’ve hoped. The windows in the truck were rolled down and you had your legs up, feet placed precariously on the window ledge. There was a particularly nasty bruise on your knee from falling off your skateboard three days ago and a few short hairs you’d missed shaving. You were relatively new to both shaving and skateboarding so there were bound to be mistakes, you just wished they were less visible.  

“Off the island?” Rafe asked, concern etched into his tone. You assumed the concern was for his sister, what would Sarah do if you moved? Who would put up with all her antics?

You shook your head, “to the cut.”

“Why?”

“She can’t afford the house on her own anymore and my dad has been lousy with child support.” You repeated back all the things she had said to you. Why she didn’t take him to court like the other kid in your grade with divorced parents was beyond you. Rose told her that it was the only way to ensure he paid what he was supposed to but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to hold him accountable.  

Can’t believe you’re gonna be a pogue.” He said it like it meant something worse than you moving to the mainland.

“It’s not forever. My grandma’s house is there, we’re gonna stay with her until we can get back up on our feet.” You shrugged, “at least my dad’ll stay away then.”

But you dad wasn’t the only one who kept their distance. It felt like the distinction over your mother’s life choices held a greater impact on your friends than they had let on. A year into pogue life and Rafe seemed to disappear almost completely. It had always been an odd kind of friendship in the first place but you’d thought that it could’ve withstood a change in address.  

Sarah kept in touch, unbothered by labels or mailing addresses. She’d been to your grandma’s a hundred times before you moved and she continued to go there to see you after. The two of you played in the backyard, doing tricks on the trampoline until gossiping about kids at school became more important than cartwheels. You’d lay there whispering as if someone might overhear, telling each other stories from the week that you were separated. Rafe always came to pick her up, staying in the car and honking the horn for her but never coming over to see you.  

It felt a little lonely even though you technically retained most of your friends.  

-

In tenth grade you got the role of Eponine in the teen camp production of Les Miserables that the local theatre was putting on. You were technically sharing the role with another girl your age but you couldn’t help being excited nonetheless. The boy playing Marius was in two of your classes, a senior who had lofty city dreams and a nice smile. He flirted almost constantly with you, brushing your hair back, telling you how pretty you were, inviting you out after practice. You told Sarah you were “pretty sure” you were on your way to having your first real boyfriend.  

But maybe the ominous casting of Eponine over your life should’ve been hint enough that things weren’t destined to work out that way. The boy who played Marius had an actual girlfriend, home from vacationing with her family in time to watch her boyfriend on stage, and you were supposed to accept that he was just “connecting to the character” when he was with you. Either way, your On My Own struck a different chord in you and after the show was over you didn’t join the other cast members in the lobby to greet people.  

“So when you get to New York...do I get to leak all those videos of you and Sarah doing your Genie in a Bottle routine?” Rafe asked, pulling a chair next to you at the makeup table. Yours was halfway off but you’d stopped scrubbing at your face to stare at yourself in the mirror. Self-pity was a powerful procrastinator.

“You’re supposed to be in the lobby.” You pointed out, ignoring his comment, “I look like a ghost raccoon that just climbed out of a dumpster.  

“Now there’s an analogy.” He laughed and picked up the cotton pads you had sitting on the counter, soaking one in micellar water and turning your head to face him.  

You bit your bottom lip as you tried to keep your composure. It’d been a while since you and Rafe had been alone and last time he was just your best friend’s cute older brother. Too old for you and way out of your league but you were fifteen now and seventeen didn’t feel so far away.  

But Sarah was your best friend and she would be mortified if she found out that you had even entertained the idea of her brother, let alone had serious thoughts about it.  

“I’m sorry,” you said as he swiped the cotton pad over your cheek.

“What for?”  

“I know we’re all supposed to go out tonight for dinner but I kinda just wanna go home.” You replied.  

“Sarah might’ve let it slip about-”

You groaned, “don’t even say his name.” You weren’t sure if it was embarrassment at having let yourself totally believe he liked you but hearing Rafe bring it up made you feel even worse.

“Hey, you’re so much better than that loser,” He insisted, “I’ll beat the crap outta him though, just say the word.”

-

It was that same year, just as school was ending, that you turned sixteen. A short stay in the cut at your grandma’s house had helped your mom get back on her feet. A new job, better than the one that let her go, afforded a moderately sized house back on Figure Eight and a birthday with all the friends that had left the two of you behind.  

Sixteen felt a little more important than thirteen had, especially because, for two whole weeks, time suspended and you were technically only a year younger than Rafe. You still hadn’t told Sarah that you liked her brother, though she did seem a little suspicious when the crush on your co-star dissipated almost overnight. The boys of the past had no hold over your growing infatuation with Rafe. Maybe it was foolish but you couldn’t help thinking that maybe it wasn’t.  

Especially not when he showed up at your house the same way he had when you were thirteen, though this time he had his actual license and not just a permit. He told you it was birthday drive around the island, that he was in charge of stalling you while Sarah set up a surprise party at your house.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to tell me that it’s a surprise.” You teased, sipping at the iced coffee that Rafe had brought you when he picked you up. You swished the ice around once before sipping again.  

“It’s a party either way.” Rafe replied, shrugging his shoulder.  

“So, we’re just driving around until she texts you?” You asked. Rafe turned into the Island Club, circling the parking lot once and then turning back around.  

“I’m yours until Sarah says otherwise.” He said, the words erupting butterflies in your stomach. You could practically feel yourself heat up thinking about what those words could mean if he wasn’t just your best friend’s brother.  

“Well...then do you wanna go to the beach?” You suggested, “Jaxon showed me this really cool spot on the south side that’s practically hidden.”

“Jaxon?” Rafe sounded judgmental when he said the other boy’s name, whether he meant to or not.  

“Yea, we’ve been on a couple dates. You know him, he took me to prom,” you supplied, thinking of the way Rafe had sulked on the staircase while you and Sarah had gotten your pictures taken on the front lawn of Tanney Hill. The last picture in the bunch, despite his sulkiness, was of you and Rafe. You’d asked and he had obliged, coming down onto the porch to take a picture with you before everyone left for the dance.  

It was your favorite picture, even more than the countless ones of you and Sarah or the few of you and Jaxon. He was just a place holder anyway, someone to take your mind off the thing you couldn’t have. Not that it was working, especially when you were driving around with Rafe at the moment.  

“I remember him.” Rafe replied, “so this special part of the beach?”

“It’s so pretty.” You confirmed, “Sarah and I went there a couple weeks ago but she only ever wants to sunbathe.”  

“Don’t say it like you’re surprised.” He said, pulling his car off to the side of the road when you told him to.  

You were out of the car first, letting the door fall shut behind you as you headed up the wooden ramp to the beach. The drop off at the top was a little steeper here than anywhere else, the beach mostly desolate. You stopped at the top of the walkway, turning back to wait for Rafe. He was standing at the bottom of the ramp staring up at you.  

“Are you coming up or what?” You called.  

“Yeah,” he nodded, walking up the path to you.  

“I know Sarah’s planning a big birthday for me, but I’d much rather have this...” you admitted, “just like, coming out to the beach with you...”  

“Oh yeah?” He asked, grinning down at you.  

“Don’t tell Sarah,” you joked, “she’ll be mad-”

“Why, cause I’m your favorite Cameron?”

Maybe it was being sixteen or maybe it was that you were feeling particularly bold, out here on the beach with just Rafe, no threat of prying eyes to interrupt you. Either way, you had been thinking about telling him for a while now and it felt like the time...even if getting rejected ran the risk of ruining your birthday.  

“I know I’m just Sarah’s best friend but...I really like you Rafe.” You said, “and I know it’s like a million to one that you like me back but I just felt like I would explode if I didn’t tell you.” You waited a beat for him to say something and when he didn’t you kept talking, “Sorry, I know this is so weird-”

“It’s not weird.” Rafe cut you off, “I’m just shocked that you seriously think I only see you as Sarah’s best friend.” His tone was teasing as he brushed a piece of hair behind your ear and cupped your cheek. “You’re so much more than that.”

-

It was Sarah who told you, days before your eighteenth birthday. She’d seen Rafe with someone else when her family took a weekend trip out to Chapel Hill to see a game. There was a girl there, hanging all over her brother. He swore she was just a friend, told Sarah not to tell you, but Sarah wasn’t dumb and she wouldn’t help her brother cover up an indiscretion. So she told you flat out that her brother was cheating on you.  

When Sarah first found out that you and Rafe were dating, she had been as mad as her thirteenth birthday. How could you go behind her back and date her brother? The anger dissipated slowly, over the course of the summer it became clear that were not going to leave her in the dust for Rafe. She wasn’t wholly supportive of the relationship but she was supportive of you and if Rafe was who you wanted to be with than she’d be happy for you.  

But if she had to choose, it would always be you over Rafe.  

“I didn’t want to tell you, I really thought about not saying anything but...you deserve to know.” It was the justification she used as your face fell, all the giddiness from planning your eighteenth birthday fading in the blink of an eye.  

“He cheated?” And it felt like a punch to the gut. “Are you sure?”

“He said she was just a friend but...I don’t hang on my friends like that.” Sarah remarked.  

You fiddled with the phone in your lap, Sarah’s comments turning over in your head. You could refute them, tell her that you’d just talked to him the night before and he told you how excited he was to see you, how much he loved you. He’d used the word love...that had to mean something right? You could call him, ask him straight away if he was actually cheating, but you suspected that he would only lie to you. And if he wasn’t cheating, if he did tell the truth, would you believe him? Sarah was your best friend and once she had planted the seeds of doubt in you, they seemed to flourish there.  

You didn’t say anything else about it to Sarah that night and when Rafe called to talk, like he always did, you pretended that everything was fine. But that could only last for so long. A week before your party, on the same special part of the beach that Rafe had first kissed you, things ended. Rafe had sworn to Sarah that the girl at school was just a friend but he couldn’t lie to you, and he didn’t try to either.  

“It was a mistake,” he insisted, as if it was the type of thing you could brush off.  

“But you still made it.” You replied.  

“I didn’t mean to.” Rafe didn’t have any good reasons for why he had cheated on, only that he had and that, since you now knew, he was apologetic. “I don’t even talk to that girl anymore. She meant nothing to me.”

“Obviously she meant more than we did.”  

Rafe had been it for you for a long time. He seemed so out of your league and you had thought a million times that you would’ve done anything for him. He was the ideal for everything that you wanted and for a while, when you had it, had him, it had felt like a dream. But now you were waking up to reality and it wasn’t a sunset on the beach.  

“I love you.” He said it like it was something you were neglecting to remember.  

“Not enough.”  

[sasuhinasno1fan]

‘Secret Relationship’ - Lukadrien June Day 26

My mind went to Hart of Dixie when I read the prompt so yeah. Lemon was a lot to deal with so I felt like Chloe would be her but they have redemption arcs, don't worry. And hey, she and Zoe get along here, so it's ok. Secret Relationships

He didn’t have to say anything, really. As much as he loved this small town, for some reason, it didn’t love him back. Even though he grew up with summers here, helping his mom in the practise and hanging out with Chloe, when he left for a few years to become a doctor and try and land a residency, everything changed. Chloe was ten times more intense and her overprotectiveness of her half-sister and hatred of her mother made her unbearable, nothing like the girl he remembered. People seemed to think he was a completely different person that the very idea of him being their friend was something to be scared of. Like now, he’d been secret friends with Sabrina, helping her gain more confidence to stand up to Chloe - who he’d hope would eventually talk to him and explain why she was acting the way she was – and she’d been chosen as Memory Matron, basically a person who ran the town’s traditions and tried to preserve a few old historic buildings. Chloe of course wanted it and was obviously upset, but Adrien was proud of Sabrina for taking charge. He’d been hoping it would mean they could hang out in public but she said she couldn’t since most people in the town ‘hated him’. It still hurt to hear and see, after calling this small town his home, and not just because his mother was one of the doctors.

When his parents split and his mom was busy with the divorce, the town practically came together to help raise him until he had to go back to his dad, the unfortunate part of the deal between them. he’d been in Paris for a few years, hoping to get high up before coming to help his mom out. His mom had been sick during then and made those who knew, promise not to tell him and leave before he could get his fellowship. When he got here, his mom was on her deathbed and the sudden announcement that he’d take over her half of the practise was a surprise and a lot of people thought he choose the job over his mom. Chloe’s dad was his partner and certainly didn’t want to share, there was a minor incident involving a parade float that he got blamed for and apparently delivering a baby at an engagement party was in poor taste. Though, he’d blame that last one on Nath’s mom, since she never got along with his own and she was just passing on the dislike to him.

Point was, here Chloe was, with Sabrina keys, the keychain he’d given her earlier dangling from the ring, and the blonde was looking smug, thinking she was going to get what she wanted after all, basically announcing that he and Sabrina were friends and that was against the law.

He loved Chloe and he might be mad at Sabrina for choosing a position over him, but he wasn’t about to let Chloe win. “My keys!” he got up from his table and practically sprinted to the front of the room, snatching them from Chloe’s hand. “I’ve been looking for these everywhere. Thanks for finding them Sabrina.”

Chloe scoffed. She might hate her mom, but her attitude was fitting her more and more each day. “You have keys with your own name on it? Self-obsessed much?”

“No that’s you. these are keys I made for someone else.” He looked across the restaurant, trying to decide who. It’d have to be a date; the whole town had been gossiping about him dating someone. Finally, he made his decision and walked over to the bar, relishing a little in Luka’s confused expression. “I think it’s time we stop hiding things. Here, it’s for the carriage house. Try not to be late this time.” He grabbed his stuff and left, letting out a breath once he was as far from the Liberty’s Hardrock.

He just told the whole town he was dating Luka, his kinda sometimes annoying neighbour, who had a heart of gold that hide beneath all those piercings and hair dye. There was a minor make out when he moved back, since he’d completely changed and Adrien was a little drunk of wine, then when the heatwave hit and he almost went further and then the moment they shared during Christmas. Adrien wasn’t going to lie, when he was a kid, he thought Luka was the coolest and the years had been very good to him. But he hadn’t been ready to date anyone, his last attempt ended up sleeping with someone before their date could even happen. He wanted to put a pause, but now to protect someone, he was.

He just hoped Luka didn’t kill him for leaving him to answer questions everyone was sure to have.

                                                  ________________

Luka knocked on the door to the carriage house an hour later. Adrien was sent back to the last time Luka knocked on the door, with Nino tagging along to try and find Adrien’s mystery man.

“Hi.” Adrien greeted, taking in the ruffled appearance Luka had compared to the more put together one from before. “What happened to you?”

“Courtesy the very curious towns people. Thanks for leaving me there. Still think you should have let Sabrina sink.”

Adrien let the bartender in and headed back to his bedroom. “I’m not that type of person. I helped Sabrina earn that head place and maybe if appearance didn’t matter so much, things would have been different. That and if the town didn’t think I’d choose a fellowship over my ailing mom.”

Luka dropped himself on the bed next to Adrien. “You know all you have to do is ask Marc and he’d release that recording on the gossip cite.”

“And get him fired from being a lawyer’s assistant, no thanks. I’ll prove it to them myself. Now, I think we need to talk secret relationship. You know as well as I do if we break up way too suddenly, Chloe will know we were lying and Sabrina will pay for it.”

Luka shook his head, clearly wanting to say more but clearly knew when to stop poking. “Alright. What do we say?”

“Ok, why did we hide our relationship? When did we start going out?”

“Started after Christmas. And…” Luka let out a hum, trying to think before he snapped his fingers. “You have a tendance to put others before yourself and since the town is weary of you, you didn’t want to get me in trouble. Me being the town rebel doesn’t care and has been looking for an excuse to spill about this ‘secret relationship’ since we got together.”

“Luka.”

“Hey, you wanted to know what the story is, it’s the one that makes the most sense.”

Adrien shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I was supposed to not be dating anyone but thank you for going along with this.”

“You’re lucky your worth it.”

                                                ______________

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you and Luka were dating!”

Adrien listened to Marc talk about what happened last night. he was used to people staring at him but now it was intense. Was him dating someone that big a deal?

“How long has it been going on? Wait, is he the guy everyone’s been whispering about? The one you’ve been so giddy over?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” He happed to see Chloe, her sister and Sabrina passing by. “Hey, I’m gonna go to the corner store and get ice cream.”

Marc looked confused and glanced at his watch. “It’s like 8 am? Don’t you have to be at the office soon?”

“Like Andre wouldn’t revile in me being a bit late. I’ll see you later!”

Minutes later, Adrien was in the corner store, hiding by the freezers waiting for a head of red hair. Finally Sabrina showed up. He pulled her keys he’d gotten from Luka and passed them to her.

“Here. Luka had to keep the keychain.”

“He deserves it more than me.” Sabrina looked sorry for herself and Adrien had been there when she started crying when they couldn’t be friends anymore. “So I guess it isn’t true? You just did it to protect me?”

“Yeah. I want to be friends with Chloe again, but she’s gonna have to learn not to be so selfish. You deserve this spot. You stood up to her and you proved you’ve got what it takes. I just, I need friends who are gonna stick by me. And I guess Luka is one of them, doing this for me.”

“I know it’s fake but I think you two would be good for each other.”

Adrien shrugged. Would they? Since moving back, even though they could poke each other buttons, he always knew he could count of Luka for help or just be there. Any other person would have asked for something in return, but Luka was different.

‘You’re lucky your worth it.’

He usually said that when Adrien would beg him to do something for him. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he like it when Luka said that, made him feel special.

He left the corner store and almost crashed into Luka, who was being followed by Alya and Marinette, friends of there but also people behind the town’s gossip cite. Adrien could only guess why they’d been following him around.

“Hey, I was just heading to the office.”

“Cool, so I’ll see you at the restaurant for lunch?” Luka asked.

Adrien nodded and before he could even say anything else, Luka had his arms around his waist and his lips pressed against his.

They’d shared a kiss before but it was a memory Adrien didn’t look at with the biggest fondness. This however, was much better.

“I’ll see you later.” Luka whispered against his lips before he was gone. Adrien didn’t even hear Alya and Marinette grill him.

If this was a fake secret relationship, why did it feel so real?

[withoneheadlight]

NSFW Anon here and I’ve come back w the most NSFW thing ever right, so like imagine this,,,, Steve and Billy being happy and content,,,, wow

Hey nsfw! anon💗💗💗. here I finally am!

First of all: this is the most amazing, most beautiful of asks🌟. Thinking about then happy and content, thinking about them having a FUTURE together is, the most non-safe thing ever, definitely not safe for the heart, in that way love is always a risk, a leap of faith, it's not safe at all. But I honestly think these two can fall on their feet at the end of the jump. I don’t think is gonna be easy, ofc. It’s not easy people we’re talking about. The jump is gonna last long. Sometimes is gonna feel like a freefall. That rage Billy has inside is going to be hard to deal with. For Steve, for himself. Things like that leave a mark, and being raised like that, learn that you have to bite to survive, that becomes an instinct, so it’s going to hurt, learn to live with that inside. And Steve-- having so ingrained that love is something you have to buy, a rent you have to pay without fail so people stay by your side, well, that ain’t easy either. And there are so, so many other things they’ll have to deal with. To learn. To understand (about themselves. about the other. about all the other people in their lives) so they can keep moving forward. 

But if I’m not gonna be a romantic in here where else could I be? xD So I believe love wins, haha, at the end. Lame as it might sound. I believe that because the more I think about these two the more alike I found them. The more I think they’re like two sides of the same coin, spinning, spinning, and sometimes, unexpectedly, the coin stops on its rim, it doesn’t fall: they realize the other gets them. They realize they’re looking in the eyes of that somebody that is gonna know. when they need it. Its gonna look at their eyes and just know. And that’s not gonna make it easier but-- its the thing that changes it all. 

It’s the thing that rescues them both.

And that’s the idea that fuels all my stories because my stories are, like, always the same? xD, something draws them apart. Something draws them back. And the thing is, I had always imagined them, like, moving together to a tiny, shitty apartment after that, after everything happens, after they’re finally together, and for good, that last time. But then, after the two month+ quarantine I spent at my own tiny apartment, I was lucky enough to move to my parent’s house in the country,  and I had spent almost all that time writing them in a  frenzy, so the moment I got there, with all that green and the trees and the fresh air I thought okok, the apartment is good but they’re gonna buy a house, at some point, they have to buy a house. So I started to write this messy hc that is like, mmm, an epilogue, for a lot of those stories, like a mash-up? future fic-ish-y thing, mixing parts of them all. Like: no matter what happens. Or how it happens. All roads lead to this future. To them coming back to the other like gravity. To them buying an old house with a backyard, and an ugly couch, and a strange-shaped kitchen, with them finding their place inside themselves and together and in the world. And if not their place at least some kind of peace (because, well, it's never that easy either, as we are as ever-changing as life itself is)

But, you know, a good future. Together.

So, here is a small piece of that, a bit messy and a bit tooth-rotting but, I’m writing this is basically to make myself happy so, no regrets xD. Also i hope it makes you a bit happy too, anon, as you have made me with this lovely lovely ask.

…...

The kitchen is Steve's favorite part of the house.

It has this odd shape. Trapezoid. “Fuck, Stevie, so goddamn weird”. Doesn’t make sense in a, on the other hand, perfectly rectangular house (or, well, it does, but they’ll only find out about that later). The cabinets are ceiling-high. The tiles of the wall white and cracked under the repeating pattern of light mint-green-stemmed, yellow-petaled lilies. The whole backdoor is painted on that same shade Billy calls Ripe banana dreams, both so terribly old fashioned and fiercely cute none of them say a word about repainting it. There’s a wooden piece, built into the farthest end of the counter. It looks disgustingly juicy and mercilessly stabbed when they move in, but Billy insists on keeping it, and sanding, and treating, and varnishing it. Manages to get it back up on shape because “Better than anyone, darling you should know what a little touch of class can make”. And for more than two weeks straight the only goal of his life is to learn to cut vegetables at high speed because "I have to live up to this level of professionalism. Impress our most un-impressionable guests"

(And, to Steve’s surprise –and probably hers– when she finally dings to pay them a visit his mom is, in fact, pretty much impressed)

He learns how to make good casserole. Tries his luck with Mexican and Italian. Fails miserably with Japanese. Will never-ever admit it, but he loves it when flour ends up staining every single surface, making the biggest mess around himself when he bakes. Steve knows why it is. It's a shared feeling. Floats up till it reaches the ceiling and bounces back down to them, heavy with the warm smell of cooking pie and cinnamon. Tastes docile and tamed like “Maybe not so much vanilla next time. Whaddaya think, babe?.” Tastes savage and daring, like the overwhelming tang of freshly squeezed lemon lingering on Billy’s tongue when he crowds Steve against the fridge and kisses him, bites a shuddering laugh out of him “How the fuck are you able to even think about putting your mouth near that thing, Hargrove?. That was––ugh. That was disgusting” “Well you know me, whatever it takes to make you squirm” leaving Steve with absolutely no option but lick the sugary dough stain over his cheek to “Cover up that foul flavor” and maybe because he likes to make Billy shudder too. It’s an ever-present feeling. Like the vivid smells of green tomatoes and parsley and mustard sauce. Like the sensation of Billy’s lips against his. The way he loses his breath when Steve kisses the sugary flavour into his mouth.

This place smells like home, tastes like home. Like finally, finally. Home.

It’s Billy’s favorite place, too. But Steve doesn’t think it's just because of that. But also because maybe,

maybe.

He has also noticed that--

There’s this particular, particular moment. It happens around seven on autumns, right when the day starts to fade. It happens between six and six past twenty-eight on winters, and holds the sleepy cheeks of the newborn tulips on Steve’s garden till they fall asleep on springs, sun already sinking behind the horizon by the time both hands of the clock meet over the spiraling infinity of the eight. And it grows bigger and bigger and bigger from there: the golden sunlight seeping through the wide, double-paned window facing the backyard at an oblique angle, making the yellow flowers of the tiles look like they’re re-blooming in gold. 

It's the moment the day turns into a fire. 

It’s their favorite moment in time. And in this particular, particular day of summer, it happens at ten past nine.

Billy is making Spaghetti carbonara. The kitchen is damp with the rich smells coming out of the boiling water. Mushrooms and oregano, black pepper and lime. A song is cooing at them from the radio, the beat of the drums a boneless memory of that one echoing around the quarry that last night at the end of July. Water rippling under the quiet sigh of the breeze. Trees cutting the liquid rays of light in asymmetric halves. 

Billy takes off the apron, lowers down the fire.

Reaches out to Steve, fingers wavering come, come, come.

To me. Come to me. “C’mon, Harrington. Are you afraid of me or what?"

He has this way of looking at Steve that makes the space between them narrow, narrow: the whole unknown world. And aseptic, non-lived-in flat in downtown Florida. This tiny, tiny town. A mysteriously-shaped kitchen–

“¿Can I have this dance?” 

Steve walks to him, takes his hand. 

––Their bodies, pressed flush. 

Inside his chest, Steve’s heart is running. 

“Can I at least have this dance, before we say goodbye?”

Mazzy Star was playing. The corner of Billy’s eye felt wet where his skin brushed against the corner of Steve’s mouth. They danced till the daylight faded, till there were teardrops falling from the night sky (“Billy, I don’t have to–-” “Don’t. Don’t, pretty boy. Don’t say it. I’ll make you stay if you do. And I can’t do that”), they made lovelovelove on the back of Billy’s car.

In this light they fell in love, they fell apart. Ran away. Ran back. 

Steve nudges at Billy’s chest, makes him move backwards till he’s far enough to tug, draw him in between their arms, hands intertwined. Steve curls himself around Billy’s back, nudges at the warm trapped between his curls. He smells like BillyandSteve, like this home, like past, like future. Like us.

Steve whispers in his ear. Three words. Billy’s neck curves towards him. An instinct. Tickled by their warmth. Steve kisses the curve of his ear. Tugs the collar of his shirt aside, bites where shoulder meets neck and up, up.

“Easy, Prom King” Billy teases, grins at him tender and wild. Knows when to use the one that gets Steve every time “Or you’re gonna make me think we’ll become picture perfect from this magical night onwards. A bunch of kids. White fences. You know, the whole shebang” 

Billy crashed the Camaro into a tree in the winter of two thousand and fourteen. Had left the house in a frenzy. Something had happened Max wouldn’t talk about. But she was scared, so she had called. When Steve found him, he was in the middle of the Brookville road, feet following the twin yellow lines, so weary, so impossibly small like this, head hanging, feet stumbling, surrounded by the tall shadows of the pines. Steve stopped the car at his side, engine oozing steam, shaking in the cold mid-May air “Billy” he said. Low. Careful. Careful. Billy’s eyes looked wet in the moon-silver night, pupils blown, deceivingly calm, “What are you doing? You know this is dangerous” And Billy had leaned in, forearms over the rim, had leveled with Steve. Looking wasted, looking tired, but still, he flashed a grin at him, teeth-shark white, not going down if he wasn’t going down swinging. And Steve hadn’t known at the moment, but the blood staining his cheek, the screaming-purple mark around his eye, those weren’t from the crush. “I was sleepwalking, Harrington" he said, voice dry, laugh harsh "Waiting for a stroke of luck"

“What does it make you think that’s not what I’m aiming for?”

When he took Billy to his house Max was already there, had sneaked out, white knuckles peaked with red around the handler of her bike “Neil will kill you if he finds out” Billy didn’t say it, but she read it on his eyes. And Max had called Steve. Called for help. So Steve took care of Billy’s face. Made him stay. Spend the night. Almost the whole next day, didn’t wake up till the hands meet over the spiraling infinity of the eight. Steve left him there. Retraced Billy’s steps down the Brookville road, following the yellow lines. The Camaro wasn’t done yet. Howled like a wounded beast under Steve's hands, but stayed together all the way to Donny’s garage. Steve paid for the repairs. Covered it all up. Two weeks later, Billy showed up at his door. Offered to teach him how to fight “I cannot give you back your money, but I know you don’t need that”

They spent almost the whole summer together. Some days. Most nights.

Wasting time. Fighting. Joking.  Driving. Fooling around.

No ‘what ifs’. No promises. Just,

“Leave the light on if you can’t sleep. If I manage to sneak out of the Old fuck, I’ll pick you up. I won’t stop kissing you until dawn”

Because Steve was gonna leave. Wasn’t going to throw a single glance behind his back. That was the plan.

And he did. He did. But––

He spins Billy out. Tugs him back. When their chests bump, his laugh explodes, bubbles up. Weightless. Happy. Because all that matters to him, to them, it’s between these four irregular walls now.

And God this, this, is Steve’s favorite part. 

–ended up coming back running, following the yellow lines. Hoping Billy was the one letting his light on this time.

Because the sun is gonna keep on shining. They can keep on dancing in here, in their weird, yellow, trapezoidal kitchen, for as long as they want. Hearts touching. Lips brushing. Bodies swaying, spinning, cutting through the golden light. 

[artificialqueens]

Come Home to My Heart, Chapter 8 (Lemyanka) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 ✨| previous chapters

A/N: wow… I can’t believe there are only two chapters left after this one… that’s crazy. This little story is my baby now so I hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading it! <3

-8-

“Ouch!” Scarlett yelled as soon as Priyanka pinched her arm. “What was that for?”

“You’re friends with Lemon on Facebook? What the fuck?”

“Ah, yeah…” She rubbed her arm. “She befriended me a while ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? We live together.”

“I didn’t believe you’d mind and I thought she would add you too. I don’t know, I probably was high as fuck.” Scarlett sipped her Frappuccino.

“You, Kiara, and my mother back-stabbed me. I can’t believe it.”

“If it’s any consolation, she only posts pictures with her friends and when she’s at the dance studio… also, she spends an unhealthy amount of time rambling about The Sims.”

Seemed about right.

“I’m more worried about the pictures I appear as «tagged» on your page.”

“Yeah, you’re like a hot mess there.”

Priyanka and Scarlett went for a beverage that afternoon after stopping by the mechanical workshop to check on Priyanka’s car –it was still uncertain and the mechanic had ordered a few pieces that were supposed to arrive later that week- luckily her parents had lent her the family car for the afternoon.

Priyanka had ordered a strawberry smoothie but almost forgot about it. Her thoughts were somewhere else.

“Priyanka, are you there?” Scarlett called her.

“Yeah, sorry…”

“Girl, you’re like… gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“Uhm…”

Scarlett sat with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face. She had cut her hair recently and the tips of her blonde bob were perfectly symmetric, it was almost in discordance with her rock-star-punk-grunge aesthetic of ripped fishnets, piercings, and leather jackets but Priyanka knew her better, she was just a softie who had cried with The Little Mermaid.

Goddammit. Don’t you see the subtext of female liberation, Priyanka? She had said with tears in her eyes.

“Nothing… only that you’ve been distracted lately. How weird is it that this behavior coincides with the return of certain someone to your life? Odd, isn’t it?”

“Cut the sarcasm… I know what you’re implying. Lemon helped me out the other day only because that’s what any person would’ve done.”

“No, you’re overestimating human kindness. Trust me, spending your entire afternoon with someone to help them with their… how did she call it?”

“Jalopy.”

“I mean, accurate.” Priyanka stuck her tongue out. “What I’m saying is that’s a big gesture and you should take it as a white flag from her.”

“When you’re right, you’re right.”

“So… what are you going to do now?” Scarlett inquired.

“I have no idea… You’re the second person who said something like that. Denali thought she was provoking me the other night in the club –she’s out of her mind- but she also said that I should make the next move.”

“I agree.”

“But what if I make a fool of myself in the process?”

“That wouldn’t be a novelty.”

“Fuck you.”

Scarlett lighted up a cigarette.

Right at that moment, Boa walked out of the café with an Iced Americano in her hand, she spotted both girls sitting outside and approached them.

“Hey, you two! I was going to text you later today.” She greeted both of them.

“Hey, girl.” Scarlett waved.

“Hi, Boa! Nice to see you.” Priyanka hugged her.

“So listen, some of the girls –myself included- are planning a little day at that lake that’s like half an hour from here and since the more the merrier, maybe you’d want to join us.”

“Sounds cool. Do you have a date in mind?”

“We set Thursday but if any of you guys can’t we could change it.”

“No, I think Thursday is fine for all of us. Priyanka?”

Priyanka had her thoughts floating like a cloud.

“When you say «some of the girls»… you mean?”

“Tynomi, Kyne, me…” She began listing.

“Boa we’re looking for a name started with «L», five letters, common yellow fruit used often in the kitchen.” Priyanka elbowed Scarlett.

“Oh! Yeah… We’re trying to convince Lemon to go too. She wasn’t into the whole nature thing but…” She cleared her throat. “If we convinced some more people maybe she’d change her mind.”

“Great so we’ll be there.” Scarlett wrapped her arm around Priyanka. “Text me the details later.”

“Sure, see you on Thursday!”

“Bye…” Priyanka smiled and when the girl walked away, she immediately turned to Scarlett. “What was that?”

“«Thank you, Scarlett, you’re such a good friend» you’re very welcome, Priyanka.” She put out her cigarette. “I did what it had to be done.”

“I see… but what if Lemon doesn’t show up?”

“She will be there and even if she doesn’t we could still have a nice day on the lake or whatever. Jeez, do I need to give you a pep talk whenever we plan something?”

“We’ll need a car, I can’t borrow my parent’s car all week and you came here by bus. Can Juice drive us there?”

“Yeah about that… Juice broke up with me.”

Priyanka frowned. “I thought you guys weren’t dating.”

“We weren’t, that’s why she gave me an ultimatum.”

“And what did you tell her?”

“I said I’d think about it.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“She agrees with you, obviously.” Scarlett leaned back on the chair. “However, I never wanted to break her heart with promises I wasn’t sure I was going to fulfill. I never promised her more than what I gave and it worked for some time.”

“Until it didn’t…”

It wasn’t shocking for Priyanka, she had always known that Juice wanted more but Scarlett –being the stubborn she was- never was going to admit she felt the same way, instead, she acted reluctant whenever the idea of having a serious relationship was brought.

“Scarlett, are you sure this is what you want?”

“Listen, what’s the point of starting a relationship with someone who doesn’t live in the same city.”

“She lives literally half an hour from Toronto.”

“Besides, I don’t want to give my freedom away… I don’t see myself ready to be in a relationship and you can’t say anything, you haven’t dated anyone for more than three days.” Scarlett pointed.

“Well, you got me there but this isn’t about me… don’t you see it? You’re about to lose something real and why? Because you’re scared of admitting you want it too.”

Scarlett looked down. “She deserves better than me…” She whispered.

“You idiot, she doesn’t want better, she wants you and you alone.”

“I feel like you’re insulting me somewhere there but…”

“Scarlett, focus.”

“You’re right, okay? I’m scared, I don’t want to hurt her and I’m terrified I might be too stupid to make a mistake or something… and now I don’t know what to do, I’m not a romantic person, I know nothing about big gestures…”

“Maybe roses? Carriage rides? Singing songs under the starry sky?”

“Gross…” She paused. “maybe roses though.”

“You did set the bar very low so…”

“Oh, shut up.”

“C’mon, I’ll drop you at her house.”

After taking Scarlett back to Juice’s house for what hopefully meant there would be a reconciliation between them –Priyanka had her fingers crossed- in the meantime, she stopped by her brother’s house. She had promised one of her nieces she’d take her to rent some DVDs they would watch after dinner.

It took less than five minutes to lose her at the video store.

“Mel? Mel?!” She started looking around. “Where did you go?”

Priyanka heard her voice coming from one parallel aisle.

“You’re very pretty.”

“Aw, thank you…you’re very pretty too.”

Priyanka also recognized that voice.

“Are you lost?”

She felt undoubtedly relieved when she found her niece chatting with Lemon who had kneeled on the floor to be at the same height.

“What’s your name?” Lemon asked the little girl.

“I’m Melanie.”

“Nice to meet you, Melanie. I’m Lemon, like the fruit.”

“Nice to meet you… Miss Lemon.”

“Did you come here with your mom? With your dad?”

She shook her head. “With my auntie.”

“Ah, I see… What do you say if we look for your auntie?”

“She’s right there.” She pointed at Priyanka behind her.

Lemon turned around and met the brunette’s eyes.

“Oh. It’s you, auntie… I should’ve guessed.”

“The resemblance is uncanny, isn’t it?” Priyanka smiled proudly.

Lemon was wearing a yellow and white striped long dress with buttons in the front, white sneakers, and had her hair tied in a French braid.

“You really convinced your brother to name his daughter like two-fifths of the Spice Girls, didn’t you?”

Priyanka rushed and covered her niece’s ears. “Shhhh… He doesn’t know that yet. It took me seven of the nine months of my sister-in-law’s pregnancy to plant the idea… neither Ginger nor Emma were working, so it was down to Melanie or Victoria.”

Lemon chuckled.

The brunette released the little girl from her grip. “Mel, go pick the movie you like but stay close where I can see you, alright?”

The little girl nodded and skipped with joy toward the kids’ movie section.

Priyanka looked at Lemon. “What are you doing here?”

“Getting my nails done, obviously.” She had a DVD box in her hands.

Priyanka rolled her eyes. “Knowing you, it must be… let me see, either Legally Blonde, Clueless, something with Meg Ryan on it, or… Drop Dead Gorgeous.”

She showed the title on the box. It was Drop Dead Gorgeous, a movie Lemon worshiped for her love for beauty pageants and bizarre humor.

“Rita has never watched it, can you believe it?”

“And you’re looking for new ways to traumatize her.”

“That might be my mission on Earth all along, spread the words of wisdom that come from this film.” She tapped the box with her acrylic nails.

Priyanka peeped over her shoulder to check on her niece who was still deciding between two Disney movies.

“So… are you going to the lake thing Boa’s planning?” The brunette asked as casually as she could.

Lemon shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not that into nature and being eaten by bugs…”

“Oh, so she’s a city girl now.”

“Listen, I spent a good ten years of my life going camping with my dad and hating every second of it. I thought it was finally over when I moved.”

“The girls and I are going… and I’m sure we’re taking some type of booze with us, snacks, a campfire… It will be fun.”

Lemon tilted her head. “I didn’t know you wanted me to go.”

Priyanka felt the heat on her cheeks. “Boa said the more the merrier… plus my car is still at the workshop and Scarlett might have screwed up her relationship with the one person that has a car among us.”

“So you need a ride… that’s it?”

“Yeah… and it’ll be fun being all together again.”

“Sure… okay. I’ll tell Rita and we’ll be there.”

“Really?”

She nodded.

At that moment, Priyanka’s niece returned with a DVD of Brave in her hand.

“Are you dating my auntie Pri?” She asked unscrupulous and unfiltered like any six-year-old.

Priyanka’s mouth dropped to the floor.

“Mel! You can’t ask people… That’s not… You don’t get to…”

“But daddy said that you like girls and that if you were going to date someone it would be a girl… and she’s a girl.”

Logic.

Lemon covered her mouth with her hand, she was blushing underneath.

“Mel just because I’m talking to a girl it doesn’t mean that I’m dating her.”

“But she’s pretty… she’s prettier than you.”

“Oh, I like her.” Lemon giggled.

“Hey! You little brat, who’s the one renting movies with you.”

Traitors.

“Why aren’t you dating her, auntie Pri?” Priyanka covered the girl’s mouth.

She was asking the real questions.

“Okay, I think it’s time to go home. Brave, huh? Good choice.” She looked at Lemon. “See you on Thursday…?”

The blonde smiled. “I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay, great.”

“Goodbye, Priyanka. Bye, Mel.” She waved at them.

The girl barely had the chance to wave back since her aunt dragged her to the line of the checkout counter. She stared at Priyanka with her wide brown eyes.

“What is it?”

“You like her.” Mel said with a mischievous look on her face.

“Shhh… keep it low…” She looked around to check Lemon wasn’t around. “You can’t just say those things, Mel. Exposing people’s feelings isn’t right.”

“So you like her.”

“Jeez, calm down Regina George.”

“Who’s Regina Gorge?”

���It doesn’t matter… The thing is… Lemon and I are… friends? Just that, okay? We’ve known each other since we were your age and I don’t think she likes me that way.”

“Have you asked her?” Her niece inquired.

“Well, no…”

“Why not?”

“Because…” She was scared of the potential answer to that question. “It’s complicated… growing up is complicated.”

“I don’t want to grow up never.” She whined.

“Me neither.”

Priyanka took the DVD to register it and pay for it.

Brave, sure.

On Thursday morning, Priyanka received a call from Scarlett, she explained that things with Juice were smooth sailing and that –since they had left the problems aside- she was going to pick her at home. In the car, there were Juice, Scarlett, Kiara, Denali, and Priyanka whereas Lemon and Rita had relocated in a different car.

The day started on the wrong foot since that change in scheduling but Priyanka had the hope it could only get better from there. She had a full breakfast with her parents and then prepared her things in a backpack, including sunscreen, snacks, a towel, and things only her mom could remember to include –and that she yelled from downstairs to make sure Priyanka would remember.

Priyanka brushed her hair and tied it into a ponytail, then she put her turquoise bikini on –she liked how the color looked against her skin-, grabbed a pair of denim shorts with embroidered flowers and a white cotton tank top. She found a pair of aviator sunglasses on the drawer of her room that were definitely her sister’s –emphasis on the «were»- and with a pair of flip-flops, she was ready.

Boa had said that it was allowed to swim on the lake where the water was shallow and that there was a lifeguard just in case. The weather was in their favor, the day was all warm and sunny even when it started with a couple of clouds, it had cleared up since then. Her mother reminded her to take a light jacket with her because it could get colder during the evening.

Priyanka was about to argue with her when she heard the sound of the horn outside. She put the jacket on her backpack and said goodbye to her mom before opening the entrance door.

To her surprise, there was an egg yolk car parked in front of her house.

Lemon rolled down her window. “Get in loser, we’re going to a lake… for some reason.”

She had a pair of heart-shaped pink sunglasses resting on top of her head and a lollipop on her hand.

“What is this?”

“I told you I was going to pick you up.” She unlocked the passenger’s door.

Priyanka got in the car and buckled up. Her entire body was tingling.

“I thought you were sharing a car with the other girls.”

“Don’t change the plans I’ve already set, I’m a Virgo.”

“Don’t you have a bumper sticker with that written on it?”

“I’m glad someone has finally seen it.”

Priyanka threw her backpack on the backseat and noticed how empty it was.

“Wait, what about Rita? Wasn’t she coming with you?”

Lemon got the car moving.

“No, I pushed her down the stairs yesterday.” She said, dead serious. “I’m just kidding; I went to pick some things from Tynomi’s place, Kiara and she were speaking in French and got along well so she decided to go with them. Because of that, I have the trunk full with two coolers and their bags so –for their own good- I hope they gave me the right address.”

Just then it hit Priyanka it was just the two of them for the next half hour.

Lemon looked lovely with a yellow poplin puff-sleeve crop top with little lemons embroidered around the neckline and a pair of navy paper bag shorts. The strips of a bright yellow swimsuit could be seen underneath her clothes and she was driving with sneakers because driving with flip-flops is hell but overall the look screamed summer in the Italian Riviera with a glass of limoncello.

And well, Priyanka was gay and thirsty.

“Did you hear what I said?” Lemon asked raising an eyebrow when they stopped in a red traffic light.

“Something about music…?” It was a wild guess and she would be lying if she said her fingers weren’t crossed.

“Yes, can you put something on the radio?”

Priyanka scanned the CDs on the glove compartment and finally decided for the always great Good Girl Gone Bad –just because she wanted Shut Up and Drive to play while Lemon was driving- and because it had some iconic bops.

“Are you certain about the route we’re taking?” The brunette asked.

“What do you mean?” Lemon clicked her tongue. “I know how to follow directions. I also have a map… I’m a strong independent woman who needs no instruction on how to get to a stupid lake in the middle of nowhere-”

“Hello, my friend and I are lost; do you know which is the best way to get to the lake?” Priyanka had to pat herself on the back for that level of fake kindness, she even batted her lashes.

Lemon, on the driver’s seat, kept grumbling something in a low voice.

“Yeah, you’re almost there, it’s five minutes from here… you have to take the next entry to the left and then continue straight forward. You’ll be there in the blink of an eye.”

“Thanks, good man. We appreciate it.” She waved at the man at the gas station. Then she turned to Lemon. “You see? It wasn’t that difficult.”

“We were almost there.”

“Yes, except for the fact that we’ve been driving around in circles for the past fifteen minutes. I told you it was the right entry.”

Lemon huffed and puffed like a child.

Priyanka attempted to skip one of the songs but the blonde interfered by pushing her hand aside. Priyanka crossed her arms on her chest and pretended to be offended.

Just like the man had said, in no time they spotted the lake entrance.

Lemon sighed of relief while Priyanka cheered.

“Yay! We made it!”

Once they got closer, they agreed it was all worthy. The beautiful scenery of the lake with crystalline blue water framed by the rows of mountains covered in green and leafy pine trees left them in awe.

A figure waved at them –probably one of the girls- they were gathered in a small semicircle that resembled a beach with dirt and gravel next to a wooden port. There were other people around, families, some kids playing in the water, swimmers, boats, and canoes.

Lemon parked the car in an empty spot among others, some of the girls helped them with the coolers and the bags that were on the truck.

“Good night, ladies.” Scarlett mocked.

“You two finally made it.” Boa grabbed one of the coolers with the other girl’s help.

Priyanka was about to say something about their delay in the same joking tone but she caught a glimpse of Lemon, she was serious, noticeably embarrassed by the situation. So instead, she cackled and played it down.

“Yeah, can you believe I told her the wrong entry on the highway? Lemon almost killed me we were spinning around for like fifteen minutes, right?” She looked at the blonde and subtly winked.

“Ah, yeah…” Lemon’s eyes were big just like a deer caught in headlights, the tips of her ears turned red just like her cheeks. “But we’re here… so… it doesn’t matter.”

“Priyanka you dumbass, we’ve come this way before.” Scarlett nagged her.

“Oh, shut up… I forgot.” She picked her backpack and threw it over her shoulder. Lemon hadn’t moved. “Hey, let’s go. We have all day ahead.”

The blonde nodded and locked the car before following them to the port.

The view was even more breathtaking up close as the sunlight shone onto the waters of the lake, it also glinted on the gold rims of Priyanka’s glasses and bathed her completely in a warm sensation.

They were received with cheers –especially since they have the food on the coolers and it was almost noon-, she saw Kiara applying some suntan oil and chatting with Rita and Starzy over a small wooden harbor, as soon as Scarlett and Boa arrived with the cooler, the blonde started an argument with Ilona over the best way to ensemble a tent –and repeatedly called each other “sis”-, Kyne, Tynomi and Juice ignored them and started setting a grill.

“You didn’t have to lie to cover my blunder.” Lemon whispered.

“I know.” Priyanka stretched her arms. “I figured you’ve suffered enough for one morning. If you’re feeling generous you can get me a drink or something in return.”

Lemon scoffed. “Get it yourself.” She started walking to where Rita, Starzy, and Kiara were but before she was further in distance, she turned around. “Thank you, though.”

Priyanka smiled at her and then went to help the other girls with the food. They entrusted her washing the vegetables at some gazebo nearby with a little kitchen and a sink. Tynomi helped her peeling and cutting once she was done and then they prepared the skewers. Scarlett’s pyromania was helpful to light the fire, although the flame that rose in the air caused quite a fuss.

Right when Priyanka put the last skewer on the trade for Tynomi to take it to the grill, a paper cup with pink lemonade and ice appeared in front of her, Lemon held it steadily.

“Oh, hey there.” Priyanka took a sip, it was sweet and it had something that kicked in. “Thank goodness this has alcohol on it.”

“It’s vodka, careful with the empty stomach, though.”

“Signature cocktail?”

Lemon shrugged. “I guess it falls into the category of colorful and sugary.”

“I don’t know if it’s because it’s hot as fuck but this is actually delicious.”

“Of course it’s delicious, I made it.”

“That’s obvious; you can taste the modesty on it.” Lemon made a childish grimace. “Have you jumped in the water yet?”

“I just soaked my feet for a little.”

“And?”

“Cold like a penguin’s butt.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

Lemon took the cup back and drank a sip, her lip gloss stained the material. She kept biting her bottom lip as if she wanted to say something but she sneaked out to help Boa with something when Priyanka wasn’t looking.

In that part of the lake it was allowed to camp and there were several tents set around the land, there were also a couple of forest rangers roaming around –probably attracted by the fake fire alarm- but the girls had been clever enough to keep the bottles saved in the coolers.  They all ate vegetable skewers and hamburgers sitting in a big circle and drank beer and cranberry vodka in paper cups.

Someone had brought a radio and they all sang Stars Are Blind when it played. After having lunch they stayed there reminiscing and telling stories from school. They were all laughing and cracking jokes it took Priyanka by surprise when the story of her seven minutes in heaven was brought.

“More like seven minutes in hell.” She gagged.

She re-told the story for those who hadn’t heard it and then realized that Lemon was among those people. The blonde hadn’t said a word since she started her narration, in fact, she paid attention to every word that came out of her mouth. She didn’t laugh when Priyanka tried to minimize she kissed a guy she didn’t want to kiss or when she tried to use the humor as a shield as she had done before.

“What an asshole.” She said when the brunette finished the story. She was angry and it showed. She was so mad she had sobered up.

“Yeah… but on the bright side… that helped me realize things. It was enlightening, I dare to say… even when that closet was dark as fuck.”

“Still… I hope he chokes or something.” Lemon was fuming.

Later on, Ilona exposed Scarlett who had claimed to be in detention many times in high school when she was just in the library, studying. Even when she tried to argue, Priyanka caught her friend sitting right next to Juice as she tenderly held her and stroked her hand with her thumb. She assumed things were alright with them now and couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous of what they had.

Vodka, it’s me… I have seen what you did for others…

Lemon told a story about one time she got lost in the subway with their friends and they almost ended in Staten Island –Priyanka refrained from commenting on the fact that Lemon wasn’t good at following indications, indeed- and Denali, the only non-Canadian of their panel discussion mentioned it had happened to her as well.

“I’ll be in New York for a competition in a few months.”

“You should come to visit me.” Lemon smiled brightly.

“That would be fun… Priyanka could come as well.” She stared at the brunette who gaped at her in surprise. “And tell me, do you have any single friend?”

“I’ve got some… yeah. I could make some arrangements.”

“I’d love that.”

“Slut-Nali.”

“Proudly.”

Later during the afternoon, some of the girls were brave enough to try to dive in the shallow waters of the lake, Priyanka among them, and, she regretted the moment her body made contact with the glistening surface but once her body was fully immersed it was like a shot of adrenaline in her body.

She surely looked like she had seen a ghost when she emerged because Lemon laughed loudly at her. The blonde was cozily sunbathing on the shoreline at an unsafe distance for someone mocking the swimmers.

Priyanka moved her arms toward her.

“Don’t you dare… Priyanka, I swear to God if you even try-”

The cold droplets touched her skin before she could finish that sentence.

The blonde squirmed and squealed.

“Bitch…” She shook the water off her body.

“Who’s laughing now?” She moved like a fish in the water.

“You won’t be laughing when you need your towel to get out.” Lemon waved it like a flag.

“Listen, you…” Priyanka started walking out of the water, the other girl was already running.

It was way colder out of the water and it took the brunette a minute to get used to, get her flip flops, and chase after Lemon who still had her towel on her hands. She hid behind Rita and stuck her tongue out, the girl caught in the middle raised her hands in a sign of rendition. They were like a couple of kids. Priyanka was about to say something when Scarlett and Juice came near them.

“Hey, we rented a boat over there and we were wondering if you would like to come with us.” Juice grinned.

“I pass, I’m not going on a boat ride with these two.” Rita pointed at them, Lemon was still looking over her shoulder.

“Pri, Lemon? What about you?”

“Sure… it would be fun, as soon as this bitch gives me my towel back.” Priyanka cast an accusing glance at the blonde.

Lemon threw the towel directly to her face.

“What’s so thrilling about a boat ride?” She asked while Priyanka wrapped herself in the towel.

“You said the same about coming here today and yet you’re having a good time, right?” Lemon shrugged. “C’mon, I’m not going to push you in the water or something.”

“Now I know for a fact that you’ll try to push me into the water.”

“Are you possibly scared?” She taunted.

“I’m not scared of a boat if that’s what you’re saying.”

“It’s settled then, we’ll meet you in five minutes over the pier where the boats are moored.” Scarlett grabbed Juice’s hand and they walked away.

Priyanka put her shorts and sunglasses on; she grabbed her bag and hung it over her shoulder. She checked on Lemon when she was done putting clothes on too.

“Ready?”

The blonde hesitated for a moment. “I guess.”

“Listen, there’s really nothing to be scared of, we’ll get life jackets and everything.”

“That’s not- Never mind.” She shook her head and grabbed her things. “Let’s go.”

Juice and Scarlett were already waiting for them with their life jackets on, they explained to the girls how to put them on.

“You two get in the boat and we’ll untie the knots and push it in the water.” Scarlett indicated.

The boat was made of wood and painted in white with matching paddles, the name Perseverance was written in blue on one of the sides.

Lemon sat first and she helped Priyanka to get in.

“Did you know it’s bad luck to change a boat’s name?” She told Priyanka. “It’s said they always sink if you do.”

“We should double-check this isn’t repainted or something underneath, right?”

“Why? Are you scared?” Lemon mocked.

Priyanka elbowed her.

Juice was done with the knot and she jumped in the water to help Scarlett.

“Okay, one, two… three.” They pushed the boat that swayed a little with the waves before stabilizing.

“Have fun you two!” Juice waved at them.

“Wait…” It took Priyanka a moment before understanding what was going on. “Hey!”

“Oh my God…”

The girls behind were cackling as the boat was carried further by the water stream.

“I think we’ve been set up.”

“There might be a chance, yeah.”

Scarlett mouthed a soft «Sorry» but Priyanka knew she wasn’t regretting anything. This had to be planned beforehand and she had a vague idea what the point was. She stared at Lemon who had picked up one of the paddles and was examining it.

“Do you think we can go back?”

“I doubt that we can row against this current.” She declared after taking a look at how the water kept taking them away from the coast. “Our best chance is to let it drag us down to calmer waters where we can paddle from to the closest coast.”

“You really learned a few scout things when you were camping with your dad, didn’t you?”

“Aren’t you glad I did?” She smirked.

Certainly, Priyanka was glad because at least one of them had a clue of what to do and how to get them out of that situation but, at the same time, it meant that they were going to be stuck for a while in that boat.

As they started moving away from the coast, the silhouettes of his friends became blurry and they were surrounded by the vast scenery of the mountains and the woods. The sun was lukewarm and the little waves rocked the boat like a cradle, it was soothing.

Priyanka laid on the floorboards and looked at the clouds crossing the sky. Lemon watched the water around the boat to eventually join the brunette.

“This is nice,” Priyanka whispered. “I think it’s the longest we’ve been without arguing or bitching.”

Lemon chuckled. Priyanka looked at her and could see every detail of her face, the curve of her lips the little mole over them, the tip of her nose, the length of her lashes, the color of her eyes…

Suddenly she felt shy.

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that I can be an annoying bitch sometimes but you’re the one person that’s always there for me…” Lemon murmured.

Priyanka’s cheeks turned red. “What?”

“That’s the first line of the last e-mail I wrote for you after we… drifted apart.”

“I never received it.”

“I never sent it.” She fidgeted nervously. “I don’t know if it would have made any difference, you seemed pretty determined to me.”

So they were going to talk about it. It was the conversation neither of them had brought up for the longest time but it was there, lingering in the air like a dark cloud of unsolved problems.

“I needed to put some distance between us…” Priyanka felt the unavoidable knot on her throat like whenever someone touched the subject. “I wasn’t being honest with you… I was scared. You had these plans that didn’t include me in your future, I felt like I was being left out while my plans always included you.”

“Priyanka, I had to move forward to survive… Yes, I met new people, I made new friends and I set new goals but you were never out of the picture. It was difficult for me because I don’t know, you were always the one that everyone liked instantly and you made friends in a heartbeat without even trying it. Your friends were our friends because of that but when I was on my own… I feel like I’m more an acquired taste, people tend to like me better when they know me but until then…”

She sighed.

“I had these problems that seemed small in proportion and I didn’t want to become a burden for you, being so far away from each other. I just wanted to share the good parts. You were the only thing in my life that felt like a constant and then… you were gone.”

She looked at Lemon in the eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever apologized for that. And just for the record, small problems, big problems… I should’ve been there for you no matter what. Back in the day, I don’t know… it’s not an excuse but I felt like it was easier to push you away and that you got to live a life without me at some point.”

“Why?” Lemon frowned.

“I don’t know.” Priyanka lied. “I didn’t want to be a burden either.”

“I’m sorry, too. I didn’t know what to expect when I saw you here but, these last couple of days I realized how much I had missed you. I wrote that in the e-mail too, I wish I had sent it.”

Priyanka’s heart skipped a beat.

“Me too.” The brunette spoke clearly. “I’m freaking proud of you and everything you’ve achieved… What I’ve heard because I didn’t befriend your New York friends on Facebook to find out.”

“They were my friends too. I didn’t add them only to stalk you or something like that. And, for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing amazing too… aside from that car of yours.”

“Laugh all you want but I bought that car to go visit you in New York someday.”

Lemon sat straight on the boat. “You were going to drive all the way there in that to visit me? That counts as risking your life, you know?”

“Well… yeah… that was the idea. I wanted to see you.” Priyanka sat down as well.

“Pri…”

“And you only came back for your dad’s wedding… why did you come back now? After so long?”

“My dad’s wedding was… an event. It would’ve been fun to have you there though, there was so much booze.”

“They can always renew their vows.”

Lemon laughed. “Well, and as I told you before, my mom was going on a cruise ship so I wanted to visit everyone here. The fact that it coincided with your visit was mind-blowing for me too.”

“Were you mad?”

“Yes, I was fuming.”

They both started laughing at loud.

“I’m not going to lie I did want to start a fight that day in the dining… and later on the club… and on the cereal aisle…”

Priyanka threw water from the lake at the girl’s face.

“Hey! Don’t!” Lemon shook her head. “I think it got on my eyes wait…”

“Oh no, sorry… I didn’t mean to…”

Priyanka got closer but at that moment the other girl counterattacked with some more water.

“Bitch…”

“You deserved it.” She cleaned some drops. “But I think it really got on my eyes, can you hand me my bag.”

Priyanka’s face was still wet but she did as she asked.

“Shit, my contact lenses are falling.” She looked through her bag until she found the container.

“Do you need help with that?”

“No, just a second…” She removed both contact lenses and saved them back. “Better.”

“I’m over here.” Priyanka mocked.

“Fine… I can’t see beyond my hand.”

“I know that.”

“Could you get me my glasses? They are there, somewhere…”

“Yeah, let me…”

Lemon’s bag had lip gloss, sunscreen, candy… transparent frame glasses.

“Here.” She put them in her hand.

“Don’t make fun of me.” She mumbled. “I never wear these in public…”

“Lemon, I’ve known you for ages I do remember how you look like with glasses on.”

Priyanka took them back and opened the temples before placing them gently on the blonde’s face. She adjusted the nose pads above her nose and removed some hairs out of her face.

“There,” She looked proud of her work. “See, nothing less than stunning.”

Lemon had a beaming smile on her face, she’d never look bad with or without glasses on.

She didn’t realize how close they were until Lemon batted her lashes. She could’ve kissed her right there but instead, she just moved away with her pulse running wild and her face feeling hot and no sunshine to blame for it.

The blonde extended her little finger as a white flag. “Are we good?”

Priyanka sighed with relief. “Best friends forever.” She sealed the pinky promise.

However, the word «friends» tasted bitter on her tongue.

“That’s right.” She was still holding their fingers together. “Priyanka and Lemon, Lemon and Priyanka.”

“You won’t happen to have something to eat in that bag of yours, will you?”

“I think I packed some Oreos this morning.”

“You’re my hero.”

It was almost sunset by the time they got back to the coast and they still had to border the lake to get back where the other girls were. Nonetheless, the setting of the sun was a spectacle they watched in awe as the daytime ended with the sun’s departure.

It was starting to get cold and Priyanka was the only one who had brought a jacket so she lent it to Lemon –it looked a bit oversized but she still looked good on it.

They walked for a little before meeting the rest of the group, luckily the place was fully enlightened and they had made sure they hadn’t gone too far to lose sight of the camping area. The other girls welcomed them back with a big cheer, some of them were already setting a little fire to toast marshmallows and sing songs with a guitar.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” Lemon headed to the public toilet while Priyanka joined the circle around the bonfire.

“So…” Denali sat next to her right away. “How did that go?”

“You knew.” Priyanka crossed her arms on her chest. “I can’t believe it, y’all helped to orchestrate this stunt.”

“…maybe. But it was for a good cause.”

“Which one?”

“Getting you a girlfriend.”

Priyanka rolled her eyes.

“I swear…”

“What happened over there?” Scarlett, Kiara, and Juice surrounded her like a group of teenagers.

“She doesn’t want to spill the details.”

“That’s because nothing happened and you should mind your own business.”

“What do you mean nothing happened? You two were there for like two hours.”

“We did talk about why we first fought and other things but it’s nothing close to what you think so you should drop it. I’m being serious right now.” She cleared her throat. “Lemon and I are friends… that’s it. Don’t try to push it further because it’s not going to happen.”

It was clear at that point that fixing their friendship was more important than risking her feelings; maybe she could tell Lemon one day and they could laugh about it just like they had done earlier but, at that moment, things were very recent and fragile to drop any more information into the mix. Priyanka wanted to have her on her life and she wasn’t going to lose her best friend over some unrequited love she had.

If she had dealt with it most of her life, she surely could do it again.

The girls protested but they sat back in their places. Lemon joined them shortly after, she sat next to Priyanka, the sleeves of her jacket looked like sweater paws on her.

“Hey, do you mind going back with the girls? I was talking to Rita and she’s kind of tired so I’m going home with her.”

“Oh, sure. No problem. Is she alright?”

“Yeah, just tired and maybe sunburn. I don’t want to drive when it’s too late either.”

“Alright. Are you still coming to dinner with my family? My mom said she’ll be waiting for you.”

“Saturday, right? I’ll be there.” She smiled. “I’m really glad we got to talk today, Pri.”

“Me too.”

She hugged her Lemon before she left; the blonde then greeted everyone else.

Priyanka watched in silence as the yellow car left the park.

Her heart shrunk, this was the right thing to do, they were friends again, and yet… she felt empty inside.

[lokisgame]

A Generous Donation [15]

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11] [part 12] [part 13] [part 14]

"You're not fidgeting," Scully said, slipping her arm under his as they walked up the path to her mothers' house. "Your mom isn't that scary." "You're the first one to say that." "First what?" "Boyfriend." She smiled looking up and seeing his grin. "When was the last time you brought a guy to meet the family?" "Don't ask." "Okay, now I really want to know." "Mulder!" They took the three steps to the front door and he drew her closer into his side, grinning wide. "Tell me!" He teased, but she rang the bell and the a second later the doors stood open.

"Charlie!" Scully smiled, stepping inside and hugging her brother. "You're just in time." "I thought we're early," Mulder smiled as they shook hands. "Here, that's on time, if you're on time, you're late." "What if the time isn't set?" "Then whoever's last, is late." "That's mean." "Don't listen to him," Scully laughed and pushed her coat into her brothers' arms. "Emily!" "Hi, Aunt Dana." The girl smiled, kissing Scully's cheek then came and did the same with Mulder. "Grandma sent me to tell you dinner's ready." "Dana, Fox," Maggie came in, wiping hands on her apron, "good, you're here." "Hi mom," Scully hugged her mother then linked her arm through Mulders' again, "this is Mulder, not Fox." "Of course," Maggie laughed and took the flowers he brought. "Thank you for the invitation," Mulder said and taking a step back to Scully's side, he found her hand, waiting for him, fingers lacing together. "Let's agree that from now on, you're not just invited, you're expected." "Mom," Scully sighed, "we just got here." "Who's hungry?" Charlie said, comically cheerful. "I'm hungry," Emily chimed in. "You're always hungry," he laughed. "Will would understand me," she pouted and turned on her heel, clinking buckles and creaking leather. "He'll be back, before you know it." Scully said and followed, pulling Mulder along. "And you'll fight for the best bits." "Once he's back, he can have them all." "He might want that in writing," Charlie chuckled. "Then he will have to go through my lawyer," Emily laughed and walked through to the dining room. Scully followed and paused, clearly surprised by the amount of food on the table. "You didn't say we're redoing Thanksgiving," she said. "It's just a dinner," Maggie replied taking her usual place. "It looks delicious," Mulder said and pulled out a chair for Scully. "Come, sit down and enjoy."

Scully leaned against his side, playing with her wine glass. That was by far the nicest family dinner he attended, though admittedly, his own family gatherings didn't set the bar very high. He felt full and content enough to doze off on the couch, and that was the best feeling he could imagine right now. Charlie took the end of the couch while Emily sat on the floor, trying to lure Stubb from her grandmas' lap. The feather on a stick got nothing but a twitch of whiskers from the ginger cat, who true to his name, missed a piece of his tail, but like his book counterpart, retained his good humour despite the feline misadventure. After rubbing on all shins and collecting all due pats and scratches, he settled in his mistresses hands. "Tell us about your family, Fox." Maggie said from the armchair by the fireplace. "There's not much to tell," Mulder said, "my father worked for the DOD and died in '95, mom stayed on the Vineyard after they divorced and there she died, in the spring of 2000." "I'm so sorry." "It's okay. After my sister disappeared in '73, we sort of started to live on our own anyway." "That's horrible," Maggie said appalled. "It's ancient history. I go out to the island once a year, to visit the graves and make sure the house still stands." "You have a house on Martha's Vineyard?" Scully asked. "Usually I rent it out, saving a week or two for myself in the summer." "I'll remember that," she said, sipping her wine, "it's always nice to get out of town for a while." "Consider yourself invited," he said, drawing her a little into his side, then looking up, "that goes for all of you." "Can I book two weeks right now?" Emily asked opening her arms for the cat, who finally decided he wanted the toy more than a nap. "I'll pay, obviously. "Don't be silly. I'll email you the number for my realtor and let her know she should expect a call. It's always open for family." "Thank you," she said and grinned, picking up the cat to look into his green eyes, "Uncle Mulder." Maggie and Mulder laughed, but Scully levelled a glare at her brother. Charlie shrugged almost imperceptibly and took a sip of scotch, ignoring her frown. "We should all go together, a family vacation," Emily said, looking up at Scully, "Will would love that." "Small steps, Em," Scully said, "we'll see if he's up for it." "Any ideas for Christmas?" Charlie asked. "Haven't thought about it yet, if his results keep improving, they might loosen the quarantine procedures, but is it worth the risk?" "He will have to come out of there, eventually," Mulder said. "Christmas happens every year," she said a little sad, "Will happens once in a lifetime." "We'll think of something," he sighed. "Is everything okay, honey?" Maggie asked. "Sure, I just had a long day, that's all." "You wanna go home?" Mulder said softly, dropping a kiss on her temple, but she shook her head lightly. "Not yet," she said and handed him her glass, "I'll just rest my eyes for a minute." "Okay." The conversation flowed around her, touching Mulder's childhood on the island, the house and his travels. Some stories she heard and some were new, especially ones from his Oxford years. All the while, Mulder stayed as warm and relaxed as ever, as if he always belonged there. And when he and Charlie realised, they both traveled to New York to see Red Sox play against Yankees in September, she realised, he not only belonged, but became one of them.

They came back to her place, somehow feeling that that's the right bed to end the day in. "You want tea?" She asked, when he helped her out of her coat, ever the gentleman. "Will there be rum in it." "No rum, sorry." Mulder followed through the living room, and caught up to her by the sink, where she filled the kettle from the tap. He put his arms around her, pulling her back to his front. "Then we'll have to think of something else to keep us warm," he said against the side of her neck, "beside tea." "I don't recall you having any trouble with that," she teased, leaning against him. "You're my great inspiration," he chuckled, but let go when she moved to set the kettle on the stove. "I need to shower first," she said, turning and pulling his face down for a kiss. "Can you do this?" "So it's me making the tea?" "I really need to pee." That made him laugh. "Go, I'll take care of this," he said, kissing her again. "Thanks."

She left him to roam free around the kitchen, pulling out mugs and her favourite Earl Grey. He found lemon in the fruit basket and sliced it in half, little thing he knew she liked, and while he waited for the water to boil, a picture on the wall caught his eye. It was a simple landscape scene, seaside sunset in orange and purple, but in the foreground, with their backs to the camera, sat Scully, in a sundress and a straw hat, saying something to Will, sitting beside her on the sand. He couldn't be older than five, and God did she look beautiful. The scene radiated love, a sweet and tender moment caught so perfectly, that he almost felt jealous he wasn't there to witness it. There was a date below the picture, July 1996 with initials, CS. The jealous feeling died the minute he saw the inscription, Charlie Scully was a man of many talents. Mulder followed the trail of family portraits captured on various occasions, from birthday parties to Christmases. The kettle whistled when he was looking at a picnic scene, in which Scully fed watermelon to a three year-old Will. His face was pink as was his stained shirt, but their smiles were so vibrant, they made him laugh softly. "What's so funny?" Scully asked from a distance. Mulder turned and saw her come in, wearing a short, silk nightgown under a long, loose kimono. Both very modest, demure even, but the gown had just a touch of lace trim and it was enough to make his knees weak. "Okay, I feel underdressed," he said, as she came closer, barefoot and stunning. "You like it?" She said, puling the midnight blue robe around herself a little. "You might say that." He swallowed hard, watching her take the mugs from the counter on her way, and handing one to him, while glancing at the wall. "Will and watermelon," Mulder said, gathering his wits and gesturing with the mug to the picture. "Oh, that one, we were in California that summer and he really discovered fruit that year, loved it ever since." She took a small sip and looked up. "You want to see more?" "Show me everything." He watched the silk float around her curves and shins, as she pulled albums from shelves and brought them back to the coffee table. She took the first one and folded herself on the couch against his side, filling his space with her warmth. "Before we begin," she said, keeping her hand on the cover, holding the thick volume shut, "please, remember this was early 90's and my hair was…" "Wonderful, I'm sure of it." He finished, taking the album from her hands. First page held a single picture, Scully in a hospital bed, looking up into the camera, holding a little bundle of blankets in her arms. "He was so tiny," she said wistfully, "but there was always something in his eyes, like he knew more than he showed." "That's all you," Mulder said, pulled into this tender scene, "you can make or break someone with one look." "No I don't." "Yeah, you do," he chuckled, turning the page, "but he only got love from you. Look at this." He ran his fingers around a photo, again showing Scully watching Will in her arms, nursing happily, his tiny palm closed around her thumb. "That's love." "He was two months old." "Who took this one?" "Charlie, that's why he's hardly in any picture," she said, leaning on his side, "he's the family photographer." "Here's one." Mulder laughed seeing Scully's brother holding Will in his outstretched arms, little arms flailing and tiny feet squashing his perfect nose. "Why do I find this hilarious?" "Because it is, Will was a fighter, putting him to bed took hours." Scully laughed sipping tea, "only way was to tire him before the bath, warm water calmed him down and he usually fell asleep nursing. Those were the good nights." "And the bad ones?" "Oh, he wouldn't fall asleep for the world, the little night owl. But he wasn't fussy or scared, he just played in his bed, minding his own business." "We would've gotten along nicely." Mulder said, turning the page to more baby and holiday pictures, pausing by a photo of Will holding on to the edge of a coffee table. "Look at him, he's so proud." "End of an era," Scully smiled looking over his shoulder, "after that, I had to have eyes around my head." "He looks like a runner." "He does, but he always loved water best." She pointed to another picture, where they were sitting in a paddling pool laughing, as Will slapped his tiny arms and legs against the surface, sending water splashing everywhere. "A regular sea monster," Mulder chuckled and turned the page to find a photo of Emily, maybe six years old, and Will with his nose and elbows covered in scabs. "What happened here?" "He tried to run," she sighed, smoothing down a corner that got unglued. "He saw Emily walking through the yard and just ran to her." "Poor kid," Mulder crooned. "You'd think so, but he barely cried, he always was a tough cookie." "That's because he grew up watching you," Mulder said not even trying to hide the admiration, "don't underestimate the strength you're projecting, a self-sufficient, capable and independent figure, who also gave him love, care and support he needed. Positively reinforced example." "Sometimes I forget you teach psychology at Harvard," she smiled, kissing his cheek and leaning her head on his shoulder. They browsed through the album, watching Will grow from a wobbling toddler into a small boy. Pictures of first bike rides, country fairs and family trips to Chicago, Washington, D.C., New York. Mulder paused on a picture of Will in a New York Yankees jersey, a classic baseball card shot. "Wow." "What?" Scully said, startled out of her reverie. "I've got the exact same picture," he said laughing under his breath, "I mean, the uniform is a bit different but still, he could be me. I guess all kids look alike at a certain age." "No, that's not it," she said and her tone made him look up from the album and meet her gaze. "Then what is it?" "He's your son," Scully said. For a second he wanted to tease her back, laugh about it, roll his eyes, but though her tone was warm, he saw she was scared. "What?" She shifted a little, staying close while turning to see him. "Remember when I told you how I had Will, after I had a terrible fight with the guy I was with?""He didn't think you can do it," Mulder said. "My friend is a fertility specialist and she agreed to help me with the procedure." "What procedure?" "In Vitro fertilisation," Scully said, holding his gaze, though her cheeks burned and her hands were starting to shake. "I had Will through IVF," then she added quietly, "using donor sperm." Mulder's blood ran cold and he hid his face in his hands. "Oh sh…" "Did you ever?" She asked gently. "I," his voice came muffled, "I did, once. I never told anyone about it." He felt her side pressed against him, arm around his shoulder. "It was supposed to be anonymous." "I contacted the bank and they gave me a few options to chose from." "The blood test before transplant," he said, looking up, "that's how you found out." "Yes," "And you didn't tell me." "I couldn't bring myself to do it," she said quietly, her eyes growing wet, voice breaking, "if anything went wrong, if the transplant didn't work." Tears spilled and she looked away. "I couldn't give you a son, just to take him away." For the first time that night words failed him, but he puled her into his arms, feeling his shirt grow hot as she held on tight. All the conversations with Will were coming back, the pain he felt at the thought this kid might be gone someday, amusement mixed with respect, when he tried to play the matchmaker, wanting to take care of his mother, the relief he felt, when he heard he was getting better, and suddenly, it all made sense. He had a son, a brilliant kid with bright blue eyes and a huge heart. A kid who facing death, cared more about others than himself, honest and kind young man. Could he have done it better? "We have a son." He whispered and felt tears burn down his face. "Why IVF? Couldn’t you just find a guy?" He asked once he found his voice again and once he spoke, she began to relax. "I was crazy back then," she sniffed, snuggling closer, "the thought I'd have to deal with some guy for the rest of my life, someone who might show up one day and ruin what I build for the baby and myself. In my head, it was the worst thing possible." "You could have at least tried," he chuckled, kissing her neck, "maybe we’d meet sooner." "Or we would never end up together. Maybe now, instead of sitting on this couch, I'd be mourning my son, cursing his father, wherever he was." "You wouldn't be together?" "I wasn't ready to share myself with anyone yet, I wanted a child, but that didn't mean I felt that my life lacked." "Unconditional love." "Everyone told me I was crazy, even Charlie." "Really?" "He said, I love you Danes and I'm with you, but this is crazy." "And your mother?" "She thought so too, she thought I should wait, that Daniel wasn't the right man, that someone would show up, who would love me and our child." Scully looked up and cupped his cheek, meeting his eyes with warmth, "she didn't know, I'd have to wait twenty years for him." Mulder leaned closer and caught her lips, feeling them tear-soft and willing. "I still wish you told me sooner." "I couldn't." She sighed, resting her forehead against his, cool fingers scratching at the base of his scull. "If it failed, if Will died because of the transplant, I couldn’t risk watching you go through that." "And if I wasn't a match? Would you leave me one day, without telling me why?" "God no," she pulled him back into a hug, "I love you too much."

[just-a-girl-and-her-books242]

Hey, everyone!! This is my first time sharing my work with others. It’s an original story, so I hope you like it.  Please note that it’s about an abuse victim, so it may be triggering for some readers.

I would also like to thank @elailin for your support and encouragement to share this with the world!

-----------------

I watch the wheels in the recorder as they rotate. 

Is this real or another scene? I need to be careful or he’ll strike me by surprise.

The man sitting across from me sips his coffee as he writes in his folder.  He looks familiar but I can’t place him.

“Why don’t we start from the beginning.” He says with a soft voice like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he talks to loud.   “Please state your name and tell us what happened.”

Inhaling, I wrap my jacket closer to me feeling cold through my bones. 

The beginning… they want me to go to the beginning.  

Clearing my throat, I start, “My name is Delta Pennway, and I have been his prisoner for four years.”

****

Without a doubt, spring is my favorite time of year.  I love the way the air smells of flowers blooming and how the trees sprout.  My favorite sent is the smell of roses, it’s calming… reassuring.  My mom used to say that spring is the season for awakening.  The trees sprout new leaves; The bugs come out of their homes to pollinate the plants, and people begin their journey for the perfect summer body.  We rekindle friendships that went dormant during the cold months, while children play in the park no longer bundled in their layers.   

As a little girl, me and my mom started a tradition where we go to the local pastry shop and pick out way too many sweets, then eat them in the park. I always picked these little pink cupcakes that had cream cheese frosting with slices of glazed strawberries on top.  My mom always chose anything with lemon.  Lemon tarts, or lemon meringue pie with more whipped cream than pie.  Then we spend the day sitting on our little quilt that my mom made from old baby clothes and watch the people in the park.    

Even now, with my mom being gone two years, I still keep to our tradition.  That’s where I met William. He was one of those runners in the park. 

I was eating a slice of my mom’s favorite pie and watching a little toddler play with his puppy.  The little boy could not be older than 3 and shouldn’t be tending to the puppy on his own.  His mom, on the phone a few feet away, wasn’t paying enough attention to them.  The puppy had the attention span of a little butterfly, in fact, it was a little butterfly that he was running after, leaving the boy behind.  But the little boy was determined he would not lose his puppy.  He ran after the dog as fast as his stumbling steps could carry him, and like every little kid, he paid no attention to his surroundings.  His puppy was now on the other side of the park, leading him across the runners’ path.  Like any typical male, William was running but instead of watching where he was going, he was staring at the toddler’s mom who still wasn’t paying attention to her kid. 

Shooting up without thinking, I sprint across the grass.  In hindsight, there were a couple different ways I could have intercepted the toddler—Calling out to get his attention, or maybe running for the kid.  Unfortunately, those ideas never occurred to me.  Instead, I ran straight for the man and tackled him.  He might have sued me for twisting his ankle if I hadn’t shared my pastries with him.   He wasn’t strikingly handsome, but he had a softness about his eyes that drew me in, and I enjoyed his company.

Our relationship progressed typically from there.  It started with the occasional coffee dates, which eventually turned into dinners.  He was the guy that girls could only dream of meeting.  He would often surprise me with flowers and picnics.  He was easy to talk to and listened to anything without judging or getting board.  He was even there for me the day I put my cat, Bugs, down. If I ever needed to cry, he would be there with a box of tissues and a gallon of ice cream. 

But do men like that really exist?   Everyone’s true colors have to come out… eventually.

After six months of dating, William started to get clingy.  Anytime I tried to make plans with friends, William would override them claiming it would be better if we stay in that night, or surprise me with dinner plans that we can’t get out of.  My friends tried talking to me about it frequently, saying that William was too demanding, and it isn’t healthy to spend all my time with one person.  But before they could convince me they were right; William would show up.  Even if they made a surprise visit, it was like William always knew what I was doing and who I was with. 

It didn’t take long before I had ostracized myself from my friends.  They became people that I saw by happenstance at the grocery.  Texts were sporadic and the phone calls nonexistent.   But I had the perfect man, and I thought that was enough.

****

I hear my name being called as if it is trying to reach me through water. 

“Miss Pennway.  Delta.”  

I know that voice.  It belongs to the kind policeman.  But those eyes… I’m still in that room. 

Panic rises through me.  I have to get out. 

“Delta.” The officer’s eyes are before me now.  They’re kind, but I’m still freezing. 

He speaks again in that soothing voice.   “Delta, I know that this is hard for you, but I need you to recount everything that happened.  How did he take you?  What happened in that warehouse?”

I try to focus on his words to tether me to this moment.

You’re fine, Delta.  He’s not here.  You’re finally safe.

I take a sip of the water in front of me and try to focus on the buttons of the officer’s jacket. 

Safe.

****

William’s greatest passion in life is his job as a screenwriter.  He started out as a bank teller while doing screenwriting on the side.  Until six years ago, he wrote a hit film called The Flame on Sunday.  It was some kind of science fiction crap that I never understood and found boring.  But I was the only one who held that opinion.  That year, they awarded him the AACTA, Award for Best Adapted Screenplay, along with being nominated for the International Award for Best Screenplay and an Oscar nomination. 

Despite his love for screenwriting, William never liked to talk about his job. But that doesn’t stop me from being curious.  However, any time I ask how he writes his scripts, or where he gets his inspiration, all things I thought I should know being his girlfriend; William mumbles something about an interview, research, or visualization and changes the subject.  I learn early on not to push the subject.  If I did, it would end in some long argument with me feeling bad.  Will always makes me feel guilty like everything is my fault… and maybe it is.  If I don’t push him, we don’t fight. 

Mid - October, I get a strange text from William asking me to come to a warehouse to help him with work.  He says the girl who normally assists him is out of town and he needs someone he can trust to help him.  Ever the dutiful girlfriend, I rush over without thinking twice.  When I get there, I find William pacing outside.  He has been working hard the last few months on a new story and is furious with his assistant.  I think it odd that he has never mentioned having an assistant but push the thought to the back of my mind. 

William quickly ushers me inside to what he calls the staging room.  It could be the size of a studio apartment.  The walls are plaster with a concrete floor.  This is the room that he uses to visualize the scenes he writes.  All writers have different ways of creating and the screenwriter’s job is to create the blueprint to a film.  But William feels it’s important to visualize the scene before adding it to the script to decide if it’s worth having.  

He is the screenwriter, so who am I to question his methods?  

I start coming frequently to help.  After the first week, it’s clear that Will’s assistant will not be returning and Will convinces me to quit my teller job and come work for him.  At first, I’m heavily against quitting my job, but like always, Will gets his way and I help him full time.  Besides, this is his dream, so why shouldn’t I help him chase it… right?

This is the worst job I’ve ever had, and I had some awful experiences as a store teller.  Will always makes me feel uncomfortable.  When we are working, he becomes a different person.  He becomes cold and detached.   I try not to think on it too much; Maybe he’s just trying to keep things professional.  But his eyes, normally a warm brown color, become bleak. They make me feel like I’m floating, lost in space, cold and alone.  This version of Will is not the one I fell in love with.  This person scares me. 

There are many characters I play; a school teacher, a mom, sometimes even playing a young girl and her best friend.  But there are some parts that not even I am prepared for.

One evening, William walks in with a friend of his I’ve never seen before.  Without so much as an introduction, Will tells me to take my clothes off and sleep with this man.  Shocked is not the correct word to describe what goes through me.  Confusion, rage, disbelief—all better ways to describe the storm inside me.  

How could he possibly be okay with me sleeping with another man?  This has to be some kind of sick joke.  

The look that Will gives me clarifies that this is no joke.  Those dark eyes stare me down, making me shiver.  Finally, snapping into reality and the truth of what he’s asking, I turn and storm out of the room, with a seething Will at my heals.  He spews something about me doing this for him because it’s his passion and if I really love him, I shouldn’t have a problem.  But I’ve had enough of this Will.  I’m tired of never seeing my friends, tired of Will making me feel inadequate, and tired of the person he is while in that room.  Surly if he loves me, he wouldn’t ask this.  I make the only decision he leaves me with; I decide it’s time for me to leave. 

Turning slowly, I tell him I can’t take this anymore and that I’m leaving.  We need to take some time apart, and I tell him he needs to find a new assistant because I can’t be around the man he is in that warehouse.  I didn’t think it possible but Will’s eyes grew colder as the words came out of my mouth.  This time they make me feel as though I’m stranded on Neptune, the coldest planet of our solar system. 

Without saying a word, Will walks back inside.  Turning away, I walk home using the time to think through what just happened.  Even with the hour walk, I am no closer to understanding.  By the time I reach my house, I’m still cold, despite the subtle warmth still in the air, and my mind whirls from what happened.  Hoping to feel better in the morning, I settle into my bed and fall asleep. 

Slowly, the corpse of sleep falls away.  Still feeling cold, I pull the blanket closer to me, noticing for the first time that this blanket is scratchy.  I hate scratchy blankets and refuse to buy them—this can’t be mine.  Opening me eyes to examine further, I realize this is not my room.  The walls, which are a light pink color, are now plaster white.  The bed, normally soft and fluffy, is now two wood pallets with a thin pillow on top.  And sitting in the corner are those eyes—eyes so cold, I feel like a corpse abandoned in the snowy streets. 

“Hello, Delta.”  His voice, which used to be like a warm blanket to my soul, now feels as though it immerses me in an icy bathtub.

“What’s going on?  Where are we, Will?” my voice comes out as a child who thinks a monster lives in the closet.

The rat of a man stands and starts slowly making his way toward me.  “You see, my love, you walked away from me… and we can’t have that right now.”  He stops mere inches from touching the pallets.  “I’ve thought about what you said, and frankly, I need you…” He pauses as if to consider his next words.  “You are here because I need you to be my scene girl.  But you treated me poorly by walking out on me.  I needed you to do that scene so I can finish this script, but you left.  Do you know how that makes me feel?”  

“Look, Will,” I try to whisper out, “I’m sorr—”

“Shh,” Will says as he places his finger on my lips.  “If you’re sorry for your behavior, then you will do as I ask.”

“Will,” I try again to speak this time getting to my feet, forcing Will to take a step back.  “I don’t understand what’s going on.  Just let me go home and we can talk about this after I’ve had time to think.”

Rage blooms across his face.  William grips my arm and throws me toward the door.  Storming across the room, he says, “Do you honestly think that I’m going to let you go home?” Grabbing me by the hair, he forces me to my feet and drags me through the door.  “You will finish the scene.”

As we walk down a hallway, I notice five doors with padlocks on them.  Noticing my staring, Will tells me they are for the other people he will bring in.  I can’t believe that there will be more!

How did you not see this coming, Delta? All the signs are there; convincing me to quit my job, ostracizing me from my friends, and I have no family that will come looking for me.  I’m on my own… alone.

As we pass through another door, he leads me into his staging room with a makeshift bedroom.  The room is sparsely decorated, but what I see shocks me further.  This is my bedroom.  There is a Queen-sized bed covered in my favorite duvet with tiny yellow lilies on it.  The walls are a light pink color, and on the bedside table is a picture of me and my mom at the park the spring before she passed away. 

Will continues to pull me toward the fake bedroom.  Just as we reach it, a man turns the corner.  It’s Will’s friend from last night.  Nausea mixed with panic settles in my stomach.   

I turn to Will to plead one last time, but before I can speak, Will pushes me into the arms of his friend. 

Grabbing his laptop, Will sits in a chair on the edge of the makeshift room.   “Proceed.”

This world quickly becomes my life.  Each day is a new scene sometimes with a new stage.  William puts together different makeshift rooms around the warehouse, and new people slowly become prisoners alongside me.  I don’t try to learn their names anymore.  Few people live long after getting here.   Either they kill themselves, or Will gets sick of them and kills them.  That’s what happened to the assistant before me.  Will claims she wasn’t a good enough actress.  Most of the time, I forget what the others look like ‘cause they aren’t here long.  Whenever I’m around them, I focus more on making sure I’m being good.  William has various ways of punishing us if he thinks we don’t do a scene well enough, and if we don’t improve, he doesn't waste any more time with us.  

Punishments were usually by taking away food and water, but Will also enjoys beating us.  If something breaks during a scene, he strikes.  Usually with his fist, foot, or even a riding crop. Sometimes he’ll grab a prop, like a chair, or one dish, and use that.

After the first year, I started to lose hope of escaping.  There are no windows in my room or in the staging room, so that option is out.  I tried to pry the door open, but there are two padlocks on it.  By the end of the second year, William had to start hand cuffing and blindfolding me when I’m escorted between rooms.  The blindfold isn’t really necessary, but the handcuffs are.  Once, and only once, I tried to strangle him when he came to collect me.  But Will is too strong for my weakened state, and it ended with me being choked till I passed out.  He took away my water for two days as punishment. 

This is my life... void of hope. Empty. 

****

The cold is back.  It’s sweeping through the room as if in search of me.  Will I ever be warm again?

“Miss Pennway, are you okay to continue?”  It’s the voice of the officer again. “Are you cold? I could send for a blanket.” 

I’m back with the officer. 

Safe. You’re safe now, Delta.

“Um, no. Thank you.”

This has been harder than I thought it would be, but now they know he’s a monster. 

“Then if you would, please explain how you escaped.”

Escaped?

“I… Um. Well…” I trail off.

I can’t remember.  How did I get here?  When did I make it out? 

That cold feeling hits me as a wall enclosing around me and making the room smaller. 

I didn’t… I didn’t escape!

The door behind the officer slams open and I’m hit by those cold dark eyes.  This was another scene.    

Will, stalks over to me clapping slowly. “Well done, Delta.  You really made me believe this one.  It was your best work yet.” 

When he reaches me, he puts on my blindfold and handcuffs.  Forcing me to stand, he leads me toward my room. 

“I have a little surprise waiting in your room for doing such great work today.” He says leaning close to my ear. 

My mind is racing.  Why didn’t I notice that the officer looked like one of the others?  I believed him to be truly caring.  I was safe. 

We reach my room and Will takes off the handcuffs and blindfold.  Leaning in, he gives me a kiss on my cheek and without a word, turns and leaves, locking my door. 

Stunned, I stand staring at the door for what must have been hours.  I wanted it to be true… That’s why it was so believable. I want to be free and safe.  I want to feel the sun coming out after a long winter.  I want to smell the flowers as I pass by the flower shops.  I want to taste one of those little strawberry cupcakes from the bakery.  But I didn’t escape.  I’m still his prisoner. 

Turning to my bed I spot the present Will left for me.  It’s a piece of lemon meringue pie and one rose… The mark of a new spring. 

The start of the fifth year. 

 -----------------

If you’ve made it this far, thank you so much!!! I know this is a pretty sad ending. If you would like to see it ended differently or maybe a part two, please comment below. Again, thank you for reading!

[bi-bi-richie]

The Stars and the Moon, He Hung Them Just For You ( 2 / 15)

“Have any friends, Rich?” Eddie asked gently. He was resting his head on his hand that was supporting itself on his elbow.

“No…” Richie admitted trying not to sound ashamed of his answer. Eddie’s features softened, maybe with pity, but Richie wouldn’t know. Nobody ever feels bad for him, he doesn’t even know what that looks like.

“Consider me your first, okay?”

Eddie… wants to be my friend?

Playlist - Ao3

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12

“Where are you from, Richie?” Eddie asks with a polite tone, Richie assumes Eddie is only really being nice because it’s their first day.

“Uh… Maine.” Richie replied, purposely making his response dry of details. Derry wasn’t anything special anyway, slap on his past and it’s an even worse topic of discussion.

“Yeah? I lived in Maine for some time, Derry to be specific. My family moved when I had barely started my first year in high school.”

Oh. Shit, he lived in Derry once? A piece of Richie doesn’t believe it, he’s sure he would’ve met and remembered Eddie, it’s a small town after all. Maybe they had met once, there wasn’t exactly a range of options when it came to putting a kid in school in Derry unless he was homeschooled.

“Oh, yeah I’ve… been to Derry. Didn’t like it very much.” That last part was barely above a whisper. He didn’t really mean to lie about his status in Derry, but his past wasn’t something he even comfortable thinking about anymore. Plus, what kind of first impression is that giving his new coworker? He’d actually like Eddie to think he’s normal.

“As far as I remember, Derry was terrible. Everyone had something they hated, apparently, they hated my family the entire time I lived there.” Eddie’s voice was a little off at the end, something Richie wasn’t sure of, confusion? Sadness? It wasn’t much like the polite tone he had in his voice before.

“Oh… uh, sorry.” Richie added, he wasn’t really sure how to respond, and he was deathly afraid of saying the wrong thing.

“Don’t be, I ended up living in New York for a long time. My family wanted me to attend college there but I kinda wanted a change of pace, I figured California would be… more accepting.”

Eddie’s expression was unreadable again for Richie. He wasn’t exactly sure what to make of that, what it might mean. Richie didn’t ask though, he didn’t even let himself linger on the thought for too long because he’s afraid of giving into what the back of his mind is screaming at him. He’s gotta keep his mind in check, that meant nothing. Being… that was dirty, and Richie couldn’t hope that Eddie was dirty, that’s wrong.

“Have any friends, Rich?” Eddie asked gently. He was resting his head on his hand that was supporting itself on his elbow.

“No…” Richie admitted trying not to sound ashamed of his answer. Eddie’s features softened, maybe with pity, but Richie wouldn’t know. Nobody ever feels bad for him, he doesn’t even know what that looks like.

“Consider me your first, okay?”

Eddie… wants to be my friend? 

He tenses up at the mere idea of it, but looking into Eddie’s eyes, seeing something he’s never seen before, he can’t say no.

“Okay.”

…

“What’s your favorite song, Rich?” Eddie asked. It was the next day, Richie and Eddie’s second shift in a job that Richie was slowly figuring out.

Of course, he wasn’t figuring out just the job.

Turns out, Eddie doesn’t have friends either. He met someone in his apartment complex named Ben, but that’s it. Richie was actually the only person he had spoken to the whole time he lived there, which, to be fair, was only two weeks. Still, Eddie, in Richie’s mind, could be friends with anyone he wants, Richie wonders why he would even consider choosing him. Probably because they’re coworkers, right?

“My favorite song… changes very easily.” Richie says slowly. Honestly, he really wants to avoid the question altogether, he doesn’t want to be judged for his music taste. Last time Richie told anyone his favorite song, he was called a fag, and that was before he came out.

“Yeah? Mine too. What’s your current favorite song?”

Richie scratched the back of his neck, Eddie was really leaving him no option, and there’s no way he could say no to someone at this point. He really had no excuse. Richie wonders if he’d be able to say no if he was a different person, but he doesn’t dwell on it for long, Eddie is waiting.

“I… really like the song Dreaming of You… by Cigarettes After Sex.” He stumbled on that last word, he kinda forgot the band name could be distasteful to some people. But Eddie didn’t notice, his face lit up instead.

“Wait really? My favorite song is Starry Eyes by Cigarettes After Sex!”

Oh. Oh! That’s not what Richie was expecting at all. He was expecting a weird look and awkward silence, that’s what he was used to. He was so shocked, he almost didn’t respond to Eddie.

“R-Really?” Richie squeaked out, “I… nobody really knows who they are.”

Eddie shrugs, his smile still bright and apparent on his face. “Well, sometimes that makes bonding over it a little more special.”

“We’re bonding?” Richie blurted out before he could stop himself. His face went a bright pink when he realized what he said, but once again, Eddie’s giggling directed his attention elsewhere.

“I guess we are.”

They both looked down with shy, content smiles, and fell into a comfortable silence. One of the first comfortable silences Richie had ever been in.

“So, Dreaming of You, huh?” Eddie said, still looking down. “Dreaming of anyone, Rich?”  

Richie didn’t respond right away. He thought for a second, he thought about his experiences with relationships. No crushes to his history, no friends to stick around, nobody to remember. Richie hadn’t been dreaming of anyone, but looking at Eddie, being friends with Eddie, Richie thinks that maybe that will all change.

“I’m kidding, Richie.” Eddie huffs out a laugh when Richie doesn’t respond, “you don’t need to answer.”

Richie sighs and nods his head, but the fear of him actually dreaming of Eddie floats in his mind.

…

Eddie came in the next day with a smile on his face and a skip in his step, it made Richie curious, but he scolded himself in his mind for even looking at Eddie. Eddie quickly got behind the cash register and dug into the backpack he brought every day to work and pulled out a few papers with words Richie couldn’t properly see. Richie wondered if Eddie had something on his mind, in the past few days they had been working together, Eddie always came in happily. But this was extra happy, something Richie hasn’t seen before.

“Hey, Rich,” Eddie said, calling Richie out of his own head.

“Sorry…” Richie mumbled, feeling a little ashamed that he wasn’t paying attention to Eddie. Shit, that was rude, wasn’t it? Come on, good friends don’t ignore their friends. Does he think I was ignoring him? Should I ask him? No wait, don’t do that, that’s stupid-

“Don’t apologize, you were in your own little world there,” Eddie said with a lopsided smile that made Richie feel… confused. He was never allowed to get away with that with people before, they’d call him stupid and rude, he’d be lucky if they only spared a glare in his direction.

“But anyway, I made this list last night for you.” Eddie handed over the papers he had in his bag. Richie took them slowly, not really sure what exactly was going on. When he looked over the words on the lined paper, he realized they were songs.

Blackout Control - Spendtime Palace

Fluorescent Adolescent - Arctic Monkeys

Boys Got to Go - BRONCHO

Honey - III Spector Lemon Boy - Cavetown

Void - The Neighborhood

The list goes on.

Richie looks up at Eddie with shock written all over his face. He’s heard some of these songs before, but knowing that Eddie made something for him, even if it’s just a list, it does something to him. Gives him hope.

“Thank you.” Richie breathes quietly, Eddie barely catches onto what he says. How genuine his words are caught Eddie a little off guard, he sounds like he’s never been given anything in his whole life. Richie doesn’t know, but that detail breaks his heart a little.

“You’re… You’re welcome.” Eddie says, and Richie hopes he knows that one list just made Richie’s whole year. He made Richie’s whole year.

…

“You ever been in a planetarium before?” Eddie asks. He’s looking behind him at the entrance to the planetarium with a bored expression. It’s late on a Friday night, normally the two would’ve gone home by then, like the people who can actually operate the planetarium. Unfortunately, the boss man (Stan) told the two that the museum was gonna be opened later due to some interview bullshit that the mayor would be doing. The actual boss wanted at least one person from every “station” to stay behind and redirect people to the interview in case they’d wander off and get lost. Richie thought it was bullshit, but he didn’t say anything. Eddie almost did, he’s like a firecracker in Richie’s eyes, ready to pop.

“No,” Richie shakes his head. He knows he wants to explain to Eddie that there were none in his hometown, but sharing details made a red light in his mind go off. Plus, he didn’t wanna say too much and bore Eddie.

Eddie nods his head and hums, “yeah me neither, wanna check it out?”

Richie’s jaw dropped and his voice was caught in his throat. Sneak in? Is this guy crazy?

“Awe, come on, Rich!” Eddie slightly whined, “nobody has even come back here! We’d be fine, trust me.”

Richie had never done anything rebellious before as a kid. When he was young, he was always cautious not to do something that would upset his mom, but he was torn between that option and not being called a “little bitch” by his peers. He’s still caught between that now, he doesn’t wanna get in trouble, but he couldn’t stand the thought of Eddie thinking he was a little bitch. He wanted Eddie to like him, he wanted Eddie to treat him like he has this whole time.

“O-Okay…” Richie says weakly, the nerves in his voice apparent, and it didn’t go over Eddie’s head. Eddie looked at him with stern, serious eyes, and then they soften.

“Rich, we don’t have to go in. I’m just bored but if it makes you uncomfortable, we don’t have to go in.”

No! He cries out in his mind, man up Tozier! You can do this.

“It’s… it’s okay. I’ll go,” Richie mumbles, his brows knit together like he’s trying to convince himself of his own words.

Eddie doesn’t move for a straight minute. His eyes study Richie’s expression and body language, not that Richie could tell, but Eddie was concerned. Hesitantly, Eddie nods his head. “Alright, Rich, but I shit you not if you get uncomfortable I’m yanking you out of there.”

Richie doesn’t answer him then. Instead, he thinks about why Eddie is so concerned about how he feels. He’s been wondering it ever since Eddie spoke to him, why would Eddie care so much about Richie? Is this what friends do? Richie knows that he cares about Eddie, and Eddie says they’re friends, so it must be what friends do. But still, Richie doesn’t feel like he deserves it, it’s kinda hard for him to go from everyone hating his guts to someone actually being nice to him.

“Come on, Richie,” Eddie wraps his hand gently around Richie’s wrist, making him flinch. Eddie notices too because he pulls his hand back. “It’ll be okay.”

It’ll be okay. Richie likes that, he’s not sure why, but it made him feel… safe.

“Okay.”

The inside of the planetarium was dark, almost pitch black. If it wasn’t for the flashlight on Eddie’s phone, they wouldn’t be able to see a thing. Eddie led the way inside, Richie trailed behind him trying to resist the urge to grab onto any part of Eddie. He didn’t wanna touch him in a romantic way really, he wanted to touch him because being in such a dark, unfamiliar place was scaring him, and Richie didn’t do so great when he was scared.

As they walked to the controls, Richie nearly slipped on his own shoelace, which freaked him out way more than he’d care to admit. Of course, he just had to let out a cry of fear, and Eddie just had to hear it.

“Shit, Rich you okay?” Eddie asked turning around and shining his flashlight on Richie, who looked like he had seen a ghost. He was trembling and biting his lip, if he said something like “oh no I’m okay,” he’d laugh in his own face, it’s clear he’s probably gonna cry.

Oh no, no, no. I can’t cry!

“Richie, let’s go back, this was stupid, I’m sorry.” Eddie grabbed his wrist again, gentler than the last time and easy to break out of. But Eddie doesn’t realize that his simple touch was enough for Richie to halt some of his worries, it made his trembling stop. Oh shit, but he’s still trying to get us out of here.

“Eddie…” Richie whimpered quietly, “I… I wanna do it. I can do it.”

Eddie turned around and watched his expression like he did before they decided to do this in the first place. Richie tried to ignore his own thoughts of my glasses definitely make my eyes bigger, he’s probably thinking it looks weird, or am I making the wrong expression? Do I still look scared shitless?

“You’re a brave one, huh Rich?” Eddie breathes out with a comforting smile.

“W-What?” Richie squeaks out.

Eddie giggled, “come on, I know where the controls are. We’re gonna see space tonight, Rich.”

Richie nodded, still completely confused by Eddie’s previous statement. Eddie walked over to the controls, still loosely holding Richie’s wrist. Richie followed him, as expected, but with less hesitation. He watches silently as Eddie reads over the labels above the switches, figuring out which one would actually turn on the stars without the sound that goes with it. After a minute or two, Richie stares directly at Eddie’s face, he can barely see it because of the lighting, but Richie’s fascinated. He’s so focused, yet excited about the situation, his tongue is slightly poking out the side of his mouth and one eyebrow is raised in confusion. Richie doesn’t even notice he figures out the switch until the bright light of the stars flashes brighter than the sun.

“Shit!” Eddie cries out with a laugh. Richie feels the same, but he doesn’t vocalize it. He won’t lie though, the shock was thrilling, even if the entire situation was terrifying.

“That was way brighter than I thought it was gonna be,” Eddie says with the laughter still apparent in his voice. Richie wishes he could be that carefree, but he tries not to think about it at that time. Instead, he focuses on the stars displayed above.

“I… I like it,” Richie admits, not entirely sure how to express himself.

“They look nicer here than they do in the city,” Eddie states. Richie thinks it’s ironic how stars displayed on the ceiling look better than they do from the ground outside, and he wishes he could say that, but he doesn’t. He thinks Eddie would laugh though.

The stars are beautiful, he’d admit that. The galaxy displayed above comes in so many different colors, Richie doesn’t think he can name them all. The stars litter across the “sky” like the freckles on his cheeks, he thinks they’re his favorite part. The constellations are outlined and labeled, at that moment, Richie realized just how many he had never seen before. The stars are his favorite, and then he looks down at Eddie, and he isn’t looking at any of the stars.

He’s looking at Richie.

“They, uh, reflect off your glasses,” Eddie says, adding a fake cough at the end. His cheeks are tinted red, it makes Richie wanna blush too.

“Oh,” Richie nods, not sure what to say.

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckles a little, “starry eyes, huh?”

Then Richie smiles, recalling how Eddie told him that was his favorite song. They don’t speak after that, they fall into a comfortable silence and watch the stars.

And little does Richie know, Eddie is still watching him, feeling something beautiful blossom in his chest.

[howlljenkins]

Where We Go From Here

Nick x June centric multi-chapter fic: June and Nick finally make their escape from Gilead with Hannah in tow but things don’t go quite to plan. In the months that follow June is forced to confront the fact that she is no longer the same person she was pre-Gilead. Rated M. 

Chapter 2: Adjustment Period

I am surrounded by white light. I can't feel my body. Do I have a body anymore? Perhaps I am dead. Perhaps this is heaven. A subtle scent tickles my nose. Like lemon disinfectant. Do they use antiseptic in heaven?

My eyes flutter open. I’m in a bed in a hospital room with white walls. Tubes flow in and out of me like tree roots, connected to a machine by my head that beeps softly in time with my heartbeat. A chair is pulled up to the bed and in it--

“Luke.” My throat is raw and his name comes out like a croak.

Read on AO3

His head jerks up. He looks like shit. His glasses are missing and dark shadows float beneath his eyes. For a moment we simply hold each other’s gaze. Then he’s moving, leaning forward, gathering me up in his arms, and we’re both crying. I cling to his shirt, not caring that I’m getting it wet, that my nose is running like freight train, afraid that if I let go he’ll disappear. Finally we break apart. He continues perching on the edge of the bed. Both of us laugh as we wipe away tears.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” I say.

He raises an eyebrow. “Right back ‘atcha. That was some escape.”

I smile and dab my eyes with the back of my hand. “What happened? I mean, I remember most of it, at least until-” I wave my hand toward my torso which, beneath the hospital blanket, is covered in bandages.

“You were shot crossing the border. The bullet lodged between two ribs. Thankfully it missed all of your vital organs but you lost a lot of blood. According to the doctors you’re out of the woods now though. They say you should make a complete recovery.”

I let out a long, shaky breath. “And Hannah?”

His face brightens. “She’s fine. One of the nurses took her down to the cafeteria to get some ice cream. You got her out.” He squeezes my hand. “You did it, June. You’re amazing.”

“I had help,” I say.

“I know. I couldn’t believe it when Nick called me to tell me you’d made it out. I am going to owe that guy for the rest of my life.”

I hesitate. “Nick called you?”

“Yeah. That’s how I found out. At first, I thought it was a joke.” Luke shakes his head as though he’s still having a hard time wrapping his head around things. “Then he put Hannah on the phone.”

“Is he… is he here?”

“Nah, some government people came by and took him.” At the panicked look on my face, Luke adds quickly, “I don’t think he’s in trouble. They said they just needed to ask him some questions. Makes sense. I mean, he must have a ton of valuable intel, working for Waterford that long.”

Someone knocks on the door. “Feeling up for a few more visitors?” Luke asks.

The door creaks open and Moira steps into the room. She’s not alone, either. My breath catches in my throat as my best friend approaches the bed with my daughter perched on her hip. The last time I saw Holly she was eight weeks old. That helpless infant is gone, replaced by a chunky 7 month old with blue eyes and dark, softly curling hair, wearing the slightly cross expression of someone who’s just woken up from a nap.

“I brought someone to see you,” Moira says.

I open my arms and Moira leans down and deposits Holly in my lap. Rocking back and forth, I bury my face in her hair. “Hi, baby,” I murmur. “Hi, sweetheart.” Pulling back, I hold her a bit away from myself. “Let me look at you. God, you’re so big!” I try to take it in all at once. The long lashes. The rolls of fat around her ankles. Whoever dressed her put her in a onesie embroidered with the words I love my mom. I press kisses to her forehead, her eyelids, the tip of her nose. Clutching her to me, I glance up at Moira through watery eyes. “Thank you.”

Moira raises an eyebrow. “Girl, you are lucky your kids are cute cause this one has been waking me up every night for months.”

“You've been taking care of her?”

“Yeah, me and Luke.”

I swallow the thick lump in my throat and nod. “Thank you,” I say again. Because what else is there to say?

“Shut up,” Moira says. “You know you’re family.” She reaches out and tickles Holly below her chubby chin. “So are your babies.” She looks down at me, smiling. “Thanks for not dying on me.”

I smile back at her. “Yeah. You too.”

Eventually my visitors are shooed out by concerned nurses parroting something about too much stimulation. I fall asleep soon after they leave. When I wake up again morning light is falling through the window of my room and Nick has replaced Luke in the chair beside my bed.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” I say.

“How are you feeling?”

“Just peachy,” I say, wincing as I struggle to sit up. “I was worried. Luke said some government people took you away.”

“They just had some questions for me.”

I raise my eyebrows. “That’s it?”

“I’m going to work for the American Consulate. Tell them everything I know I about how Gilead operates. I don’t know how it’ll help but I have to try.”

“It’ll help. Every bit helps.”

He nods. It’s not lost on me that he won’t look me in the eye.

“Holly was here yesterday,” I blurt. “Luke and Moira are going to bring her back to visit this afternoon. You should stay.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Standing, Nick wanders over to the window. The sunlight gilds his edges, turning him golden. “He’s a good man. Luke.”

I had to know this was coming. That if our escape was successful we would have to deal with the complicated nature of our entanglement eventually. Grabbing love wherever you can find it is good advice when you’re living under a totalitarian regime. It’s not so simple in the real world. I can’t have a lover and a husband. I made a vow to Luke. And more than that, I love him. Still, none of this lessens the pain that I know is coming.

“I think we should take some time. Figure things out.” Nick glances at me over his shoulder. Is he waiting for me to argue? When I don’t I can’t tell if it’s regret or relief I see in his eyes. Whatever happens next I know I will never forget this moment. The soft beeping of my heart monitor. The morning light that fills the room like a cathedral.

I shake my head, then nod. "I think so too."

Nick's Adam's Apple bobs as he swallows. He crosses the room, leans down, and presses his lips to my cheek. I turn my face toward him, drinking in his smell. Cigarettes and pine. My hand rises of its own volition, curling into the collar of his shirt, as if I can hold him there forever. But I can’t and we both know it.

He pulls away. My hand falls.

“Goodbye, June.”

I can’t bring myself to say it back.

Then he’s gone.

I don’t realize I’m crying until I taste the salt on my tongue.

~~~~~~

The day I get out of the hospital I am weighed down by balloons and flowers from the nurses. Luke used my time in the hospital to find a new place for him, Hannah, and I. He drives straight there from the hospital. I watch the world go by from behind the car window. A woman walking her dog. A young couple strolling hand in hand on the sidewalk. A man lugging his groceries up the steps of an apartment building. Mundane acts of everyday life that seem strange, almost unnatural, when viewed through Gilead tinted lenses.

The place Luke found for us is in a small apartment complex on a street lined with tall oak trees. Across the street is a park with a slide and swings, and a few blocks over is the school that Hannah will attend once she’s ready to go back.

Our apartment is on the fourth floor with a nice view of the park. When I walk in, leaning on Luke’s arm for support, I am greeted by a banner strung across the doorway that reads Welcome Home, June! in brightly colored letters.

They say that home is where the heart is but what if you heart is in multiple pieces? What if you’re not sure you even have one any more?

“June?” Luke is holding open the door waiting for me to come inside. “You coming?”

I force myself to smile. “Yeah. I’m coming.”

~~~~~~~

A week after I get out of the hospital Moira takes me shopping. It’s kind of unavoidable as I have no clothes. Scratch that. I have one set of clothes: a sweatshirt and sweatpants combo purchased from the hospital gift shop. I used to love shopping. I was there so often all the clerks at Anthropologie knew me by name. Now the myriad choices overwhelm me.

Staring at rack after rack of items, I find myself longing for my red dress and the simplicity of knowing what I was going to put on when I woke up in the morning. Then I realize what I’m thinking and feel like I’m going to puke. To combat the feeling, I buy far more than I need. I specifically choose things that would get a woman killed in Gilead: low cut tops, tight jeans, above the knee dresses, brightly patterned sweaters. When I get home I try on one of the dresses, a purple wrap dress that highlights the curve of my waist. It looks garish and I can’t take it off fast enough. I select a few pairs of jeans and a couple of plain t-shirts and fold them neatly in a drawer in the bureau. The rest of it I shove into the back of the closet.

If Luke notices the pile of unworn clothes he doesn’t say anything. In fact, we don’t talk much at all. We both try but it’s like we no longer speak the same language. I hate Gilead for doing this to us. I hate myself for letting them.

I rarely leave the house. Random things bring it all back. A slammed car door. A siren. The city bells tolling the hour.

After three months I am beginning to go stir crazy. A kindly old woman lives next door. She adores Holly and has offered several times to watch her if I need to go out. Her family lives far away and I think she’s lonely. Finally I take her up on the offer. After dropping Holly off, I rush back in the apartment and pull a suitable outfit from the pile in my closet. Before I can change my mind I march myself down to the American consulate and ask if they have any use for a very out-of-practice editor. Turns out they’re desperate for extra hands. They put me to work editing stories for Radio Free America. Surprisingly, it helps. I can’t live inside my head when I’m busy. I lose myself in the red marked pages, a dead Martha displaced by an erroneously used semicolon. Eden’s body hanging from the wall nothing more than a dangling participle.

It is not lost to me that Nick and I are now working in the same place, that I could run into him at any moment. I go about my days expecting to see him around every corner, but I never do. It’s for the best, I tell myself. It would only complicate things, make trying to readjust even more difficult.

~~~~~~~~

One day I’m in the small staff kitchen at the Consulate making coffee when I bump into a petite, mousy haired woman with an AIN (American Intelligence Network, essentially the CIA in exile) badge fixed to the front of her blouse.

The question falls from my mouth before I can stop it.

“Nick Blaine?” she says, placing the creamer back in the fridge and turning toward me. “Yeah, I know him. He works in another building off-site.”

All the time I walked around expecting to see him and he was never here. I feel like a fool. “Can you give this to him for me?” I scribble my address on a scrap of paper and hand it to her. “Tell him June needs to talk to him. Will you tell him… Just tell him it’s important.”

The woman looks at me curiously, as though waiting for me to identify myself or at least clarify my relationship with Nick. When it becomes clear that neither thing is going to happen she tucks the paper into her pocket. “Sure thing. I’ll give it to him.”

“Thank you.”

A week passes. I start to think he’s never going to show up. That he’s cut us clean out of his life and that's it. Maybe he’s relieved to be free of me. It’s one thing to tell a woman you love her when a guillotine is hanging over both of your necks. It’s another thing entirely when loving her means navigating a minefield of pre-existing relationships.

The day I’ve made my peace with this (not really, but that’s what I tell myself), the doorbell rings as I’m warming up a bottle for Holly. Hoisting her onto my hip, I pad to the door and pull it open fully expecting to see Doreen Bancroft from down the hall come to return Luke’s KitchenAid.

It’s not Doreen Bancroft.

Several seconds tick by as we stare at each other.

His hair is slightly shorter than the last time I saw him that day in the hospital. Instead of the all-black of a Guardian, he wears jeans, work boots, a white t-shirt, and a navy bomber jacket. His hands are stuffed in his pockets as though he doesn’t know what to do with them. I grateful mine are full of Holly because I wouldn’t either.

“Hi,” he says.

I hike Holly up my hip. “Hi.”

Worry is etched into the lines around his eyes. “Alice told me you were looking for me. She seemed to think there was some kind of emergency. Is everything alright?”

I missed you. I don’t know what I’m doing. What should I be doing?

“She must have misunderstood," I say, surprising myself with the smoothness of my voice. I have to credit Gilead with this: it turned me into an effective liar. "Everything’s fine. I just… thought we should catch up.”

Nick raises his chin thoughtfully. He doesn’t believe me, I can tell, but thankfully he doesn’t press it. “Sure.” His eyes shift to Holly and his mouth curls into a smile. “She’s so big.”

“Tell me about it. Look… do you want to go get coffee or something?”

There’s a small coffee house around the corner. It’s a grey, rainy day so we run. The bell on the door tinkles cheerily as we step into the shop. We find a table in the back and a barista brings us a high chair for Holly then comes back a few minutes later with two large mugs of coffee. I wrap my hands around the mug, the hot ceramic warming my chilled fingers.

We make small talk. The weather. Our jobs. What did I think this would be like? I study his face the way a small child studies the contents of a puddle, prodding it for secrets. He gives away nothing. How is he doing really? Does he have nightmares, wake up panicked thinking he's back in Gilead? Does he regret our relationship? Does he miss me like I miss him?

His hand lies inches from mine on the table. The urge to reach out and take it is overwhelming. I busy my hands adding too much sugar to my coffee then instantly regretting it.

I find myself telling him about the pile of unworn clothes in my closet. About how Luke and I don’t speak about Gilead at all, except in a detached, academic way when the occasional news story pops up on the tv. How not talking about it makes it worse.

Nick listens without interruption. He doesn’t try to soothe me, tell me everything’s alright, that everything I am feeling is a normal response to extreme trauma. I stare down at my now-cold, too-sweet coffee. “Do you think we’ll ever feel normal again?”

“I don’t know,” he says softly.

The fact that he doesn't immediately say 'of course' or 'time heals all wounds' is oddly comforting.

I find myself looking around the shop, scrutinizing the other customers. It’s getting toward lunchtime and the coffee shop is filling up with women carrying yoga gear, men in suits talking on their phones, college kids with earbuds stuffed in their ears. Normal people going about their normal lives. Is that what we look like to them? Father, mother, baby. Just a regular family out for lunch on a rainy Tuesday in autumn.

It stops raining just before we leave the shop and we stop at the park across the street from the apartment so Holly can watch the dogs.

“I think we’re going to get her first word any day now,” I say.

“What do you think it will be?”

Holly shrieks with laughter as she watches a small dog chase a larger one around the monkey bars.

I smile. “Luke and I have a bet: he thinks it will be dog. I think it will be no. He’s says I’m a pessimist.”

"I wouldn't say that. A realist maybe."

We stay until it starts to get dark. Nick walks us back to the apartment, rides the elevator with us up to our floor. I gather my courage as we stop in front of the door. “Maybe we could do this again sometime. For Holly,” I add. I immediately feel guilty. I’m a coward, hiding what I want behind our daughter.

What is it that I want, exactly?

He looks at me for a long while. I wait for him to tell me it’s a bad idea, that we’re playing with fire and someone is going to get burned. Then I realize he doesn’t need to; we’re both thinking it already.

“I’d like that,” he says, and despite the guilt and uncertainty swirling inside of me a swell of hope burgeons in my chest.

“I’ll call you,” I say.

He nods. Then he kisses Holly and turns to go.

It’s dark by the time I let myself into the apartment. Luke is still at work and Hannah is at a sleepover. I worry whenever she’s gone overnight. The first time she went to a sleepover she called me at 9 pm sobbing, begging me to come get her. Since then she’s gone to two more and been fine at each of them. Confronting the thing she’s scared of… she’s a lot braver than I am.

I give Holly dinner, read her a story, and put her to bed. Once she’s asleep I wander around the dark apartment, stopping at each of the framed pictures on the walls. Luke managed to get a few of the three of us in the pre-Gilead years from our old social media accounts. There are a couple of newer ones as well. Hannah and I on the swings in the park. Me holding Holly outside our apartment the day I got out of the hospital. Moira, Luke, and I cooking a meal together. Well, Luke is cooking anyway. Moira and I are drinking, our arms around each other.

Between the two sets of photos, four years are missing. It’s like we all ceased to exist four years ago only to pop back into the world a few months ago, an extra baby in tow. It's a strange feeling, to be able to see in such stark way exactly what has been done to us.

When Luke finally gets back I heat up leftovers for him and sit at the table while he eats. He’s almost finished when I say, “I saw Nick today.”

“Oh yeah?” Luke’s voice is carefully casual. He knows everything. That Holly is his not Waterford’s. Even that Nick and I exchanged I love yous. Despite this, he’s never once said a bad word about Nick. If anything he’s heaped praise on the man. Somehow that makes it worse.

“We went for coffee.”

“What’s he up to now?”

I tell him about Nick’s work. How he hopes he can make some good out of all the shit that’s happened. Luke looks at me a long time, as though waiting for something more. When I don’t add anything he stands and puts his plate in the dishwasher. “Well, I’m gonna go get ready for bed. You coming?”

That’s it? part of me wants to ask. That’s all you have to say? Another part of me is grateful he doesn't say anything more.

“In a minute,” I say.

Later I sit in bed watching Luke sleep, the steady rise and fall of his chest. I remember watching Nick in much the same way. A small furrow often appeared between his brows as he slept, as though he were deep in thought. I used to kiss it.

“What were you dreaming about?” I asked him once as we lay tangled together in apartment over the garage.

The corner of his mouth quirked. “You.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really? You looked confused.”

“That’s because you confound me.” He dragged his thumb along the curve of my cheek. “I never know what you’re thinking.”

I remember pulling him on top of me, his hard length pressing against my thigh as I wrapped my hands behind his neck. Wiggling against him, I asked, “Can you tell what I’m thinking right now?”

He buried his face in the crook of my neck. I gasped as he pressed inside, my core still wet from our previous night’s lovemaking. Nick groaned.

“Yeah,” I panted. “Yeah, something like that.”

I flipped us so I was straddling him. His hands grip my waist as I sank down, taking him fully into me once more. Our bodies moved as if they were made to fit together. I loved to watch his face as he came.

Luke snorts in his sleep and I snap back to reality. My face burns. How messed up do I have to be to think about fucking another man as I watch my husband sleep? Sliding out of bed, I go to the bathroom and lock the door intending to splash cold water on my face. Instead my fingers slip beneath the waistband of my shorts. I touch myself, thinking of Nick inside of me.

After I come I slump down on the closed toilet seat and drop my head into my hands. I don’t know who I am anymore. Am I Luke’s wife? Nick’s girlfriend? I am Hannah and Holly’s mother. I was a Handmaid. A daughter. A sinner. A friend. A slut. I am a woman. I am broken and bloodied. I am out of Gilead but I am fighting still, only this time my enemy is myself. Somehow that’s almost worse because now there is no one to blame but me.

I flush the toilet and go back to bed.

[onlylovekpop]

Trouble Maker | Shin Ho Seok | One-Shot

wonho (monstax) + you (reader) word count: 7,309 warnings: um yeah so this is a stepbrother!au but technically the parents aint married yet so its more a future stepbrother shitstorm if that makes it any better for your moral compass lol heads up for a tiny bit of underage drinking but mainly car sex and fingering and oral and some blunt dirty talk but i know some of yall are like me and that definitely floats our boats hehe a/n: chatting with my friend and she told me about her dream jon snow was gonna be her stepbrother and they rage fucked each other because they were so bitter about it and i thought wow what a fantastic idea can i write that and she gave me her blessing lol so here we go thanks darling

It was a grey, stormy day when my father called me down to the kitchen for what he deemed a family meeting. Naturally, my mood was sour. My dad was a strait-laced commander in the military and when he summoned me for a father-daughter discussion, I rarely left happy.

Dragging my feet into the kitchen, I hopped on to one of the stools and folded my arms across the bar. Dad moved in front of me on the other side and prepared two cups of hot tea, dropping a slice of lemon in each.

“When are we moving?” I asked irritably, assuming our years in this country were over with and it was time for the next station.

He glanced up from the tea cups with a smile and said, “Surprise. We are here to stay for good, but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“You’re being kept here permanently?” I questioned, understandably skeptical. South Korea had been our home for the past five years and truth be told, I rather loved the place, but I had been uprooted enough times to never fall too in love with anything.

Dad handed me my cup and I sipped the tea gingerly, careful not to burn my mouth. It ran down my throat hotly and I hummed my approval. I never questioned what Dad put in the concoction, but I always slept like a baby afterward and dreamed pleasant dreams.

I safely assumed it was a peace offering.

Bracing his hands on the counter, my Dad fixated his eyes on me and waited until he had snared my undivided attention. Then, he declared, “I’m getting married.”

If there had been any liquid in my mouth, I would have spit it out. That explained the pause.

“Married?” I exclaimed.

“Yes, now before you freak out…” he started calmly.

“To that divorced lady you’ve been dating for six months?” I shouted, voice cracking.

Dad held up his hands and grew stern when he continued, “Seven months and yes, she was married before. So was I.”

“Mom died,” I was quick to remind. “There’s a big difference.”

Dad exhaled, noting the way my face had tensed at the mere mention of my mother. “Baby girl, you gave me your blessing when I started dating again. I waited until you were ready and out of respect to your mother.”

I leaned back in my chair, lowering my head as tears gathered in my eyes.

Dad stepped around the counter quickly, pulling me into his arms and doing his best to soothe me.

“How could you do this to Mom?” I sobbed into my hands. “Didn’t you love her?”

“Of course, I loved her,” my father chided, borderline angry I had posed such a question. “I loved her with every fiber of my being. But she’s gone and she would have wanted us to move on.”

I recoiled and instantly angled away from my father, closing myself off from him and hiding my face behind my long hair.

He called my name softly, but I didn’t respond. In my eyes, in that moment, the devoted relationship we’d had was over.

And I swore I would never forgive him for giving me a stepmother and a stepbrother.

The next morning, I was dressed to impress. Despite already hating these people I had yet to meet, I wanted to knock their socks off when they looked at me.

Stepping outside in my short sundress, my dad flinched and whined, “Do you have to wear that?”

Referring to how the garment hugged my curves, I snorted, “I’m a woman, Dad. This is what we look like.”

He groaned and opened the car door for me. Little did he know, I had made it my new personal mission in life to make him absolutely miserable.

Maybe I hated him. I despised that he could even speak of my mother the way he did. That she wanted us - she wanted me - to move on. Was he implying she would have wanted me to embrace a new mother?

It made me sick and a bitter taste remained in my mouth for the rest of the day.

“You said she has a son?” I asked, staring out the window as the trees ticked by.

“Yes, he is from a previous relationship before she was married,” my dad informed.

“So she and her husband didn’t have any kids together?”

“No, they didn’t and I believe she said her boy is the same age as you.”

“Wow, a pair of teenagers in the same house. How will we entertain ourselves?” I droned with disdain.

My dad furrowed his brow. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, Daddy,” I crooned. “Nothing at all.”

The car rolled to a stop outside the ritzy-looking country club. I knew my Dad came here often to play golf with his fellow high-ranking military officials. The food was pretty good and the veranda was to die for with its view of the gardens.

My father pulled out a chair for me like the gentleman he was and I sat at the white-clothed table seated on a private overlook. Apparently, we had arrived first.

The two of us sat in silence. Dad constantly looked to me, expecting a conversation to start at some point. Normally, he and I talked about anything and everything. I could make him laugh until his face turned red.

Not anymore. I was content to never speak to him again for as long as I lived.

He blinked slowly, sadly. Maybe it was then that the same realization hit him.

A few minutes later, he called out to someone and my heart raced. I kept my eyes on the gardens and swallowed the lump in my throat. Though I wanted to be an absolute brat, I reminded myself that this boy was probably in the same boat I was emotionally.

With a grumble, I rose from my chair and finally turned around.

My father ushered in a beautiful, small woman trailed by a stocky, handsome boy. I was even more annoyed, hoping he would be an ugly jerk, but as I watched him bow and address my father with respect, I forced away my frown.

My father spoke my name and introduced, “This is Sunghwa and her son, Wonho.”

“Hello,” I greeted the woman who was to be my new stepmother and added, “You’re very pretty.”

“As are you,” she beamed. “Very beautiful.”

I thanked her and turned to her son, mirroring his bow in silence and awkwardly shuffling back to my seat.

I promise I’m not exaggerating when I say Wonho and I didn’t utter a single word during the brunch. My father and his wife-to-be gabbled back and forth like love-struck kids and the sight made it hard for me to keep food down.

My future stepbrother and I ate our meals and wallowed in the silence until my father suggested a walk through the gardens.

“You two go,” I was quick to interject, locking eyes with Wonho. “I want to order some dessert.”

Wonho cocked an eyebrow, but didn’t argue.

The engaged couple was more than happy for some alone time and bid their goodbyes before practically skipping hand-in-hand toward the veranda.

“Did I hear someone mention dessert?” asked the waiter, Minsoo. He and I knew each other very well, considering my father brought me to this place regularly.

Glancing up at him, I gave him a smile and said, “Yes, a big glass of tea laced with lots of vodka, please.”

Wonho gawked at me in disbelief before a tiny smirk crept over his lips.

Meanwhile, Minsoo rolled his eyes and groaned, “You owe me.”

“Pfft, like hell I do,” I retorted. “I got you a date with Hyomin.”

“It was horrible,” he exclaimed under his breath.

I waved him away, running out of tolerance for his whining. “That’s not my fault. Can I get my drink now, please? Trust me when I say I need it.”

He droned, “Coming right up. But you owe me.”

“Fine. I owe you. Get on with it.”

Minsoo scurried toward the kitchen and I slouched backwards into my chair, crossing my legs and angling toward the view of the gardens.

“Aren’t you eighteen?” asked Wonho blithely.

“Yep,” I replied.

“Drinking age here is nineteen,” he told me, nonchalant it seemed for the time being.

“I’ve lived here six years, but thank you for bringing me up to speed,” I snapped, letting my sarcasm reign free. “Tattle if you want.”

Wonho rubbed a finger over his lip pensively and asked with subtle interest, “What will your father do if you get drunk?”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not gonna get drunk off of one glass of tea and vodka.”

Minsoo approached with drink in hand.

My eyes lit up and I gave him an over exaggerated grin as I greeted, “Ooh, speak of the devil.”

Minsoo shuffled nervously and murmured under his breath, “Do you think Hyomin will give me another chance?”

“Jesus, Minsoo, I can only do so much as a wingman.”

My waiter friend cleared out and I downed a mouthful of my drink.

“So, we’re going to be siblings soon. Aren’t you excited?” I asked with feigned glee.

Wonho merely glared momentarily before taunting, “My Mom went on and on about how you’re such a good girl. At least, that’s what your Dad told her.”

I snickered. “Those days are over. I’ve been very well-behaved, but that’s because my mom died and I wanted to be nice to him. Now, I can see he’s obviously not grieving anymore and I’m going to be his worst fucking nightmare.”

Just as I set my drink down, Wonho snatched it and to my surprise, took a big gulp. After a pause, he met my eyes and asked, “How can I help?”

I smiled devilishly.

“But what’s wrong with our parents being happy?” Wonho questioned a moment later, pretending to be presented with the biggest moral dilemma of his life.

“I wanna be happy, too,” I crooned, swirling the straw in my drink between my fingers. “Why can’t we do things that make us happy, too? Like being the teenagers that we are.”

“I’m mad she’s getting remarried,” Wonho groaned, taking the tea as I handed it to him for another gulp. “I won’t act like I’m not.”

I shrugged. “She was married before. What’s another time?”

Wonho’s face tensed with anger as he explained, “She’s from one man to the next and never gives a damn about me.”

Snorting, I teased, “Are you saying your mom’s a slut?”

Wonho snatched the glass of tea and helped himself. “What about you?” he asked.

My brows lifted at the inquiry. “Am I slut?”

He nodded and his gaze was glaringly obvious as it traveled down my body.

“No,” I finally responded. “But I could open up to the idea.”

“That was fast,” Wonho said with a laugh and the sound made me smile.

I downed the rest of my drink and rose from my chair, whispering, “How’s this for fast? I’m going to the bathroom. Wait a minute or two and come find me. If you want, of course.”

He gaped briefly before winking his approval.

Striding away, I found the ladies’ room and pushed the door inward, immediately checking the stalls for privacy. With the coast clear, I approached the sinks and smoothed down my dress with a heavy sigh. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I gazed in wonder at how I had changed so much in the past twenty-four hours. I was hurt and overcome with rage.

I snapped from my thoughts when there was a knock at the door. Cracking it open, there stood Wonho and I grabbed a handful of his shirt, pulling him inside. He was quick to lock the door behind us, but the moment he turned back around to face me, our bodies collided and our lips met.

We both tasted of tea and vodka and I couldn’t have been thirstier. I could feel both of us smiling through the kisses, knowing this was stupid and reckless, but we were both too broken to care.

Wonho backed me clumsily into the granite counter, teasing his tongue over my bottom lip until I gave him entrance to my mouth. My fingers found his biceps, squeezing at the feel of hard, bulging muscles beneath. After tracing my touches over his firm shoulders, marveling the iron feel of his back, I reached behind myself and gripped the counter. Wonho looked for my hands, missing them on his body, and noticed what I was doing. He grabbed my thighs, hauling me with ease to the counter.

The granite was cold and my skirt did little to block the chill, but I was too busy locking my ankles behind his hips to give a proper shit. Gripping his face and running my fingers into his smooth hair, our lips parted and Wonho moved his mouth to the side of my neck, biting gently before kissing and sucking at my skin.

I tipped my head back, humming through my pleasure and closing my eyes. “Do you think our parents will be as angry as we are when they find out their kids had been fucking?” I asked snidely.

Wonho stopped his kisses just long enough to growl, “Worse.”

I chuckled and reached for his shirt, proceeding to undo the top buttons.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and we broke away loudly as someone jiggled the handle, quickly shouting for an attendant to have the facilities opened.

“Shit,” Wonho groaned.

“We’ll have to finish this later,” I panted.

He nodded and swallowed to wet his dry throat. “Where?”

“Are you a good climber?”

“Maybe,” he sang with a playful grin.

“I’ll leave my window open.”

Wonho interjected, “Or I can offer to drive you home.”

I clapped my hands and cheered, “Yeah, that’s better. They’ll be happy to get even more time away from us.”

Leaning forward, we shared a quick kiss before Wonho helped me down from the counter. The knocks grew more insistent and I looked to my new partner in crime for an escape.

“Follow my lead,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around my waist and tucking me closely to his side.

Unlocking the door, a woman’s eyes widened at the sight of us and I could see the accusatory glare slowly taking over her face.

“Do you think you can make it to the car, sis?” Wonho asked sweetly.

I nodded. “Yeah, just please don’t let me fall.”

“I would never,” Wonho coaxed, offering his most innocent smile to the woman as she passed by us toward the stalls.

“Is she alright?” the stranger asked.

“Almost fainted. Splashing water on her face seemed to help.”

“Oh, dear. I hope you feel better.”

“Thank you,” I managed feebly, letting Wonho partially carry me out of the bathroom.

The moment we were in the clear, I turned to him and we burst into laughter.

“That was so fucking close,” he murmured.

“My heart was pounding,” I replied, putting a hand over my chest.

“More so than when you were making out with me?” he asked playfully, lifting his eyebrows up and down.

I pushed his arm and whined, “Hey, keep it down!”

“Alright, alright. Get on with the plan. Call your Dad.”

“What’s the rush?” I teased, pulling out my phone and wiggling it in my hand. “Are you that excited to get me naked?”

“Uh, obviously.”

I chortled and dialed my father. Given that he was frolicking through the gardens with his soon to be trophy wife, I was surprised he picked up at all.

“Yes, darling?”

I put on my best simper and began, “Daddy, I’m not feeling too well. Something I ate isn’t agreeing with me. Or maybe it’s the heat.”

Wonho met my mischievous eyes and borderline snorted.

“I’m on my way,” began my father, as if he were reading from a manual.

“Actually, Wonho offered to drive me home,” I quickly interrupted. “And that way you can stay out with your fiancée longer.”

My father was suspicious when he droned, “That’s generous of him.”

“Yeah, he’s annoying and mopey, but at least he’ll be easy to get rid of when I get home,” I lied, raking my tongue over my lip when Wonho gave me an irritated glare.

“Be nice to him. He’ll be your brother soon.”

“Don’t remind me,” I snarled.

“See you in a couple hours, honey,” he chirped.

“Bye, Daddy.”

“Is it wrong if I like the way you say Daddy?” Wonho teased.

I smacked his chest gently and chided, “Yes, it is.”

“Let’s get going.”

As he drove, one hand lazily on the wheel, I looked Wonho up and down like I was picking out my steak at an expensive restaurant. Reaching over, I grabbed his arm and squeezed the muscles with my fingers. Then, I moved to his chest, tracing my fingertips over his dress shirt.

“You’re shredded under that, aren’t you?” I quipped.

“Yep.”

“I’m gonna bite the shit out of you,” I warned playfully.

He clocked a brief glance at me and threatened, “Then, I’m gonna bruise the shit out of you.”

“Go for the thighs,” I cooed, crossing my legs and inevitably bringing his gaze to my bared skin. “I’ve always wanted to know what I would look like with marked up thighs.”

“What? No dude has ever been rough enough with you?”

“Ugh, I wish. For me, it’s been nothing but gentle missionary.”

Wonho laughed. “Too bad our parents didn’t hook up sooner.”

“I actually agree.”

My eyes traveled southward and my hand inevitably followed. Wonho sucked in a hard breath when I discovered the hard bulge in his pants.

“I didn’t know you got hard while we were making out?” I teased with glee.

Wonho grabbed my wrist with his free hand to stop me from palming him, snapping, “Why do you think I was in such a hurry to get out of there?”

“The mystery is solved,” I exclaimed, then I slid closer and whispered, “How big is it?”

“Big.”

“Oh, yeah?”

He was quick to add, “Legendary.”

I laughed and teased him, “Well, no one has been inside me for over a year. Are you sure you’ll fit?”

He shuddered visibly and squeezed my wrist a little tighter. “You gonna be a good girl and open up for me?”

Now it was my turn to shiver and I looked down as Wonho easily pulled my hand away, bringing it to my own lap. He used his forearm to press against my stomach, pushing me back into my seat. Then, his hand dipped beneath my skirt.

I let out a ragged breath when he pulled my dress higher and higher until it draped over the tops of my thighs.

“We’re so gonna crash,” I whimpered, holding his forearm as his fingers proceeded to run up and down my slit over my underwear.

“I’m watching the road,” Wonho reminded and it dawned on me he hadn’t actually taken his eyes off the highway this entire time.

I gulped and thanked the heavens silently that I had showered and shaved this morning.

“Someone feels wet,” Wonho growled, pushing at my clothed clit with his thick fingers.

“Oh, shit,” I whined, tipping my head back and colliding harshly into the car seat. Gripping his burly arm, I stroked my palm over his silky skin like he was my anchor.

“Tell me if I need to stop,” he ordered firmly under his breath.

I nodded my understanding.

Wonho pushed aside my panties and dipped two fingers toward my entrance. I adjusted my position on the seat to give him access and lowered my head to sink my teeth into his clothed bicep as he pushed his digits into me slightly.

It had been so long since I had been touched and the rush of danger and rage the two of us shared was a combination I had no idea could get such a visceral reaction out of me.

“Fuck, you are a tight, little thing, aren’t you?” Wonho growled, rolling his hand to get his fingers deeper and deeper.

I whimpered, winching my eyes closed. Feeling my walls stretching to accept him had never felt so good.

“Oh, god,” I rasped, moving my hips to the same pace as his hand. “Pull over.”

“Hang in there, sweetheart,” he crooned. “We’re almost home.”

Wonho was trying to sound tougher than me, but I could hear the strain in his voice and I was convinced the strain in his pants was probably much worse. The sound of my arousal coating his fingers, the way it seemed to echo in the car, was all too much. My face felt hot and my heart was beating wildly.

“Wonho,” I panted, propping a hand against the roof of the car and arching my hips as his fingers picked up speed. “I swear to god. Pull the car over so I can ride your fucking cock.”

That did the trick.

Wonho tapped the brakes and pulled off a sharp turn to a dirt path. We had been on a highway surrounded by trees. The country club was outside the city and nestled at the base of the mountains. It wasn’t surprising he found a dirt road to a small fishing spot.

The moment the car was in park, Wonho tore off his seat belt and pounced on me. I welcomed him with open arms, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him to me as our lips met in a loud collision of teeth and tongues.

“The back seat is tinted,” he managed to tell me between kisses while unbuckling my safety belt.

“No one can see in?”

“Nope.”

I braced my hands on his chest and smiled at the bemused look that took over his flushed face. Then, I turned and clambered to the safety of the back seat. He was a fraction of a second behind me and I rolled to my back on the cushions, reaching under my dress and grabbing my panties. Wonho rubbed his hands up my smooth thighs and helped tug the material down until he could pull them from my ankles. I kicked off my shoes and spread my legs, inviting him between them.

To my surprise, Wonho dropped to his stomach and ducked his head under my dress. Just as I was about to ask him what the hell he was doing, I felt his breath on my core.

“Fu…” I started, reaching out to grab the seats with my hands, inevitably scratching the leather when I couldn’t get a solid grip.

Wonho leisurely raked the flat of his tongue up my lower lips before giving my clit a gentle, open-mouth kiss. My chest began heaving for breath and adrenaline raced down my legs. I mentally chastised myself for getting this worked up, but it had been such a long time since someone fucked me up like this.

“Wonho,” I cried out desperately for him as he continued sucking on my clit, moving his head from side to side ever so slowly as he did. Occasionally, he broke away to sink his teeth into the flesh of my inner thigh.

I writhed on the seat, constantly moving underneath him with the way he tortured me. He teased my clit with delicate precision, drawing out every lap of his tongue and every pass of his lips. The sounds he made as his mouth played with my core ricocheted into my ears until they filled with a dull pound.

Arching my back, I closed my eyes and licked my lips, humming with pleasure. Wonho smiled against my folds and looped his muscly arms around my thighs, kneading at my flesh while he reduced me to nothing.

My breaths caught in my throat as he darted his tongue into my entrance and my hips jerked involuntarily against his face when he returned to sucking on my clit.

“Hm?” Wonho finally replied to my shouts of his name.

“I didn’t know,” I stuttered, swallowing to dampen my dry throat from the embarrassing amount of panting I was doing. “You wanted to eat me out.”

“I’m not gonna be that guy that sticks my big dick in a girl that isn’t wet enough to take it,” he told me calmly, kissing my hip bone between his words.

Gulping rather loudly, I stared at the ceiling and asked, “A-am I wet enough for you yet?”

“Yeah, you have been,” Wonho replied in a taunt. “But I am really getting off on watching the way you squirm.”

I reached down and yanked up my dress, finally exposing his head and grabbing a handful of blonde hair. “You little – I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

Just as I had been about to insult him for teasing me, Wonho went back to my clit, tonguing and biting at the bundle of nerves with a vengeance. My thighs instinctively clamped down on both sides of his head as a buffer for the onslaught of pleasure I felt and a howl left my mouth.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Wonho commented, lifting to rest on his elbows.

I mirrored his moves, glancing down at him and feeling suddenly nervous. “Why did you stop?”

He let out a long, conflicted exhale and said, “I’m giving you a chance to change your mind.”

“Why would I do that?” I asked incredulously.

He cocked his head, unconvinced. “Because you’re only doing this to piss off your father.”

“Maybe. Maybe at first, but…” I trailed, glancing away.

“What?”

With a shrug, I admitted timidly, “I had no idea you were as hurt and angry as I was. I thought I was alone.”

Wonho smiled and stroked my thigh, craning down to peck a few affectionate kisses along my knee. When he finished, he asked sheepishly, “You wanna be friends?”

“Friends that rage fuck on a regular basis?” I clarified with a tilt of my head.

He bobbed his head in agreement and sang, “In my professional opinion, it would be a good coping mechanism for both of us.”

I snickered. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Wonho’s face turned serious as he added, “I have a condition, though.”

“Let me hear it.”

“You’re not a slut and I’m not gonna let you turn into one just to get back at your Dad. If we start fucking, you don’t fuck anyone else.”

That surprised me and I chose to hide behind my humor. “Ugh, who am I gonna fuck? I don’t like anyone. I pretty much hate people in general.”

Wonho stroked my thigh again and crooned, “You just met me.”

“Yeah, but we’re about to be living in the same house for a while.”

“True. So?”

For a moment, I paused, then relented, “Alright, I won’t fuck anyone else. What about you?”

“I won’t fuck anyone else either, if that’s what you want.”

I nodded and said, “I’m all about equality.”

“Deal.”

“Okay, let’s get on with this horrible lapse in moral judgment.”

He grinned mischievously. “As you wish.”

I rolled my eyes.

Wonho kneeled between my thighs and fiddled with his belt. I stayed on my back, arms splayed at my sides as I watched him with bated breath. When he finally pulled his length free, I laughed in disbelief.

“You weren’t kidding,” I exclaimed.

“You think I would use the word legendary so loosely?”

I snorted and crooned, “I’ll never doubt you again.”

“Good,” he coaxed, pumping his fist around his member. “Think you’re ready to take this cock then?”

“Fuck, yes.”

I licked my lips as I watched him settle lower. His dick was slightly above average in length, but it was the girth that had my attention. The boy was thick everywhere else. It was no surprise his equipment would follow suit.

Our eyes met as he grabbed my thighs with his arms and spread me farther. His hands slid softly up my legs, grabbing my knees in his firm hands and holding them up in the air.

“Take your shirt off,” I suddenly demanded, feeling sweat gathering behind my neck.

Wonho shook his head and exhaled, “In a sec, trouble maker. I gotta be in you now.”

I couldn’t agree more. My pussy was throbbing ever since the loss of his mouth and at the sight of his girth, my core was pulsing with desire.

Swallowing to wet my dry throat, I grabbed his arms as Wonho propped himself over me. When his hand left my side and moved to guide himself inside of me, I pulled him closer until I could sink my teeth into his shoulder.

“Wonho,” I shouted as he pushed his cock into my entrance and slid forward slowly. It didn’t matter how slow he was, I was stretched to the max and it was phenomenal.

Wonho slid a hand in my hair and gripped me close to his chest as he settled to the hilt in my velvet walls. “Fuck,” he groaned under his breath, rocking his hips slightly to drive forward, gentle as could be.

On my back in his car, I howled his name and set my nails into his clothed shoulders as he thrust his hips back and forth, plunging into me hard over and over.

Wonho rutted his length sharply into me, a resounding smack echoing in the car. My entire body jolted in place from the harshness of his movement and I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

With a whimper, I reached up to toy my fingers through his hair, holding tightly while he gripped my waist. After another thrust of his hips, I mewled at the pressure and locked my ankles behind his back.

Wonho quickly brought his mouth to mine, breaths passing through each other’s lips. Sweat had already begun to bead around his hairline and I took my time staring at his face, especially his eyes and the way his pupils had blown out.

“Does it hurt?” he asked me, rasping.

I shook my head insistently, worried if I didn’t convince him, he might turn gentle. “No,” I told him. “It’s good. You feel so good.”

The edge of his mouth crooked up in a short smile. He stole a quick kiss before returning his attention to where our bodies met and locked together.

“Damn it, gentle missionary,” Wonho suddenly growled.

“Huh?” I questioned, forgetting my words from earlier.

Wonho gripped my waist and turned, trading our places and putting me on top. Having very little experience in the saddle, I stared down at him with wide, anxious eyes. When I didn’t move, Wonho narrowed his gaze and grabbed my ass with both hands, kneading the flesh before giving both cheeks a healthy slap.

“Get riding,” he ordered, voice husky and thick with arousal.

Letting my hips rise and fall, I kept eye contact with him to see how I was doing until it became too much for me. Swirling myself around him and letting his cock stroke against my sweet spot, I easily decided I was a big fan of being on top.

“How is this?” I asked unsurely.

Wonho fussed, “Do what feels good to you, baby. I promise, I will like it.”

I chortled, “Easy to please?”

“In this tight pussy, yes.”

I gleamed and propped my hands on his burly chest, arching my hips and letting my ass bounce up and down, smacking into the tops of his thighs loudly. My fingers clawed at the material of his shirt and I went to work getting it off of him, wanting badly to feel his skin against my fingertips.

Wonho helped tear the dress shirt free of his body and my mouth watered at his chiseled form beneath me. I stroked my palms up and down his firm pecs, teasing my nails over his hard nipples with every pass. As I kept riding him, letting his length slide back and forth within my walls, Wonho felt it was only fair to discard the dress I was wearing.

In a flash, he grabbed the garment and yanked it over my head, leaving me in only my bra. Wonho reached up and cupped my face, tracing a thumb over my bottom lip as I gaped for breath. Then, his fingers caressed down my neck and to the swell of my breasts. He teased the clothed mounds, kneading and squeezing.

For the first time since I began riding him in the backseat of his car, on a down stroke I dropped deeper into his lap, finally letting Wonho sit balls deep in my heat. The fullness ripped a moan out of my mouth and I winched my eyes closed.

“You good, baby?” Wonho teased, abandoning my breasts to get a solid hold on my hips.

“You’re thick,” I whimpered, tentatively bouncing on his lap again. “Like you’re ripping me in half.”

“You sound thrilled,” he snorted.

“I am,” I quipped, grabbing his hands and guiding them to rest on my bare ass.

“Come on, then. You can go deeper.”

He was referring to the way I now avoided sinking down on his cock as I had before. When he was deepest, it made my thighs shake and I had never been stretched that far.

“Make me,” I suddenly blurted, setting my nails into this chest.

Wonho winced and our eyes locked as I came to a stop.

“I thought you were gonna fuck me?” I asked, looking for trouble and undoubtedly finding it. “Is this all you can do?”

Fire appeared in his eyes and my heart raced with delight at to the prospect of a punishment I was about to get.

Wonho frowned and sat up sharply, reaching around and unsnapping my bra. He lifted me off of his lap, withdrawing his length from me and flipping me on to my stomach. I grabbed the edge of the seat, my hair tumbling into my face and blocking my eyes. I panted desperately for breath as I felt him settle over me, pushing my thighs apart to make room for him.

“You want me to fuck you, huh?” Wonho hissed in my ear, grabbing a handful of my hair.

I said nothing.

A hand cracked across my ass and I squeaked as the sound lingered in the car. Distracted by the stinging sensation fading on my skin, I barely felt the fingertips at my entrance followed by his cock being guided inside.

Wonho let out a shaky groan on my neck as he fully pressed himself into me and I sighed with relief to be filled again, having been aching for something to fill the void he’d left. He lifted slightly and began showering my shoulders with wet kisses, the loud sound of them ringing in my ears.

Slowly, he rocked back and forth, easing his length in and out while murmuring how well I took such a big cock. His pace steadily picked up speed until his hips began smacking into my ass with each thrust. I felt his muscular chest on my shoulders and he abandoned his hold on my hair to reach around and grab my throat instead.

“Wonho,” I cried out, turning my head to see him above me.

Wonho kissed my jaw with affection and held my neck securely, whispering in my ear, “I can’t wait to live in that house with you. I can’t wait to sneak into your room every night.”

“Oh god,” I panted, my mouth watering at the thought.

“You won’t go a day without being sore and feeling what I do to you,” he growled, sliding his free hand beneath me and squeezing my breast. “What do you think about that?”

“I love it,” was the only thing I could manage to say, because it was hopelessly true.

Wonho sank his teeth into the base of my shoulder, bruising the skin until I yelped. “I own this pussy now,” he snarled, turning my head to kiss me on the mouth possessively.

I moaned against his lips as his pelvis picked up speed. He was driving his cock into me now and I struggled against his hold on me as the telltale signs of an orgasm came to my attention.

He raked his hands up and down my sides, occasionally reaching under me to grab my breasts and play with my nipples. When he had his fill of that, his hand traveled to my ass, gripping both cheeks tightly and moving me in tandem with his hips, exposing the sight of my filled pussy to him.

“God damn it,” he huffed, pushing every inch of his thick length into my cunt.

“Don’t stop, I beg you,” I whined like a bitch in heat.

I needed this high. I needed him to fuck all this anger out of me. And truth be told, he was doing a marvelous job.

I couldn’t think about how hurt I was when Wonho was bringing me this much pleasure. For a moment, all I could comprehend was our bodies together, how well we fit. Everything else faded into static. I became only aware of Wonho and what he made me feel.

With another swear word or two, Wonho grabbed both of my hands, lacing his fingers through mine, and used his body to pin me to the seat. He drew back until only the tip of his length remained before forcing back in. My pussy squelched around him and Wonho groaned under his breath at the sound.

“Fuck, I am fucking your brains out,” Wonho said, his voice a full octave lower.

I nodded rapidly and panted, “Harder. Harder, baby.”

“I don’t think this pretty cunt can take much more,” Wonho replied, burrowing his face against my neck. “You’re so goddamn tight.”

“Please, I’m this close,” I begged, flexing my legs around his.

“I’m gonna come in you,” Wonho groaned. “Yes or no?”

For a moment, I paused, pretending to be thinking it over just to frustrate him. When he slowed down, I replied, “Yes, yes, yes. Come in me. I need you.”

“You need me?”

Panicking, I yelled, “Yes.”

“You have me,” he hissed as I clamped down on him. “Now, come for me.”

I keened and arched my back, doing everything I could to give him access to my sweet spot. Swear words tumbled out of my mouth while I squeezed his fingers tangled with my own and flexed my thighs against his between mine.

Parting my lips, I expected to moan at the top of my lungs, but no sound came out. My eyes rolled to some other dimension as my body shivered in pulses. Wonho only sped up, his thrusts growing louder as I became even wetter with the orgasm.

“That’s it,” Wonho murmured, voice trembling against my neck. Suddenly, he sank his teeth into my flesh and bit down, earning a cry from me.

He finally came to a stop, rocking me forward rather roughly as he buried himself inside me as deep as he could. I untangled myself from his hands to brace my palms on the car door, focusing on catching my breath as his cock twitched and emptied his load.

“Fucking hell,” Wonho growled, weighing me down with his body as he shuddered on top of me.

Time passed slowly as we lay there. I didn’t utter a word as I waited for what would happen next. Would this be awkward?

Wonho finally lifted from my back and rested on his hands and knees. Draped on the seat, I turned my head and glanced at him from the corner of my eye.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked gently, reaching down and pushing hair out of my face with the tips of his fingers.

I shook my head and swallowed to wet my dry throat, finally answering, “No.”

Wonho stroked his palm down my naked side, making me bite my lip with arousal at how his skin felt against mine. He reached my hip and pushed down to keep me pinned, withdrawing his softening length from my folds at last.

I hissed when I realized how sore I was from taking his cock, but then I mentally reprimanded myself for how much I liked it.

Wonho suddenly told me he was going to flip me over and before I could protest out of exhaustion, his grip was on my waist, turning me over to my back.

“Let me recover, asshole,” I whined playfully.

Wonho snickered and gazed down at me, raking in the sight of my naked body beneath him. Then, he leaned down and seized my lips in a kiss, dancing his tongue in my mouth.

I moaned with satisfaction at the feel of his soft, pillowy lips and fought the urge to beg for another round.

When Wonho broke away, he smiled and caged my head between his thick arms. “I’m not as angry now,” he joked, eyes scrunching with a laugh.

“Me neither, but I may need a fix tonight,” I mumbled shyly, though I couldn’t imagine why I was shy about asking him for more sex. He was the one who had mentioned it.

“Day or night, baby,” he replied sweetly. “I’ll never turn down a chance to be inside you.”

I simpered, feeling a blush form across my cheeks. Sliding my hands underneath me, I pushed up until I could lean back against the car door, taking a long, steadying breath. Wonho still sat between my bare legs and reached down to grab his pants.

“Ready to get dressed?” he asked quietly.

“Uh, no,” I sighed. “Can’t you tell I’m fucked out?”

“Here,” Wonho said with a chuckle, handing me his shirt. “Put this on and I’ll drive you home. You can stay back here.”

“That’s nice of you.”

I took the button-up shirt from his outstretched hand and pulled it around me, about to start fastening the buttons when Wonho jumped on me, kissing his way up my stomach and between my breasts.

I giggled at the ticklish sensation of the quick trails of his tongue. “What are you doing?”

“God, I wanna take you again,” Wonho growled, sucking a bruise against my collarbone.

“You have my permission,” I breathed, tipping my head back and accidentally smacking my skull on the window.

“Damn it, let me get you home. I don’t want anyone to catch us out here,” Wonho spoke up, shaking his head to come back to his senses. I was impressed he had the strength to be the voice of reason. He buttoned up the shirt to cover me and put on his pants and tank top.

In the backseat, I watched the trees pass us as blurs of green. My eyes blinked tiredly and I wondered if asking Wonho to nap and cuddle with me would be too much. Maybe we would only fuck, nothing more.

“Did you mean it when you said you need me? Or was that the sex talking?” asked Wonho suddenly.

With a shrug, I questioned, “Does it matter?”

Wonho glanced at me in the rearview mirror and told me innocently, “No one has ever needed me before. I liked it.”

“Well, I meant it,” I replied with a comforting smile, realizing this big, strong man was probably a very soft marshmallow at heart. “I think we’ll need each other to get through this.”

Wonho whispered sadly, “Yeah, I don’t have anyone else.”

“Neither do I,” I told him, and our eyes met in the mirror as a silent understanding passed between us.

And there it was. We were two lonely, hurting people and ironically, the thing we hated most had brought us together.

For more oneshots, click here for the masterlist.

Author’s Note: This fiction is written and owned by me. I monitor my work diligently and will take measures to protect my writing if it is stolen or plagiarized.

[androgynousblackbox]

Fic request for @left-handed-rick with the prompt: If you wanna write something fucked up and sad. There’s this idea of a play on “The little match girl” but instead it’s a sad Morty in Morty town slowly freezing to death, and using eating simple Rick and morty wafers to feel warm. 

Simple Rick Wafers wasn’t something that you could just find in any corner of Morty Town and not a price that you could pay easily. It wasn’t even meant to be bought by Mortys, because supposedly they just weren’t design to have the same effect on them. That is why it took him so long to find someone who could provide a box and even longer reunite enough money to grab it. He ordered it before just as a luxery, something to try on, and after he was kicked out from his apartment, it was the only good thing left to aspire. The citadel didn’t need Christmas or any other holyday, just because Ricks didn’t want them. But Mortys counted all the day and waited for the right moment, celebrating them between them and the very, very few Rick who gave a fuck. He personally have never met one that did, but some Mortys knew other Mortys who have heard about a Rick like that. According to their own calendars, the one that didn’t follow the ones provided by the Citadel itself, it was the night of Christmas and he planned to gift himself with a good gift. He didn’t remember the last time he felt excited for something after grabbing the box and running through the streets, ignoring the snowflakes that floated in front of his eyes, like any kid that couldn’t wait to get home to open the last number of a dirty magazine. He had seen the commercial. Everyone did. It was like some kind of drug sweet or something, made from pure dreams and good feelings from some poor sap that didn’t knew any better. He came running until the inside of an abandoned factory, jumping over the sleeping figures of other Mortys and cardboard boxes before finally setting inside his own little cardboard house. He always carried his money around with him and didn’t had anything more worth stealing, so at least he could count so he would always find his place exactly like he found it. That is, until someone just destroyed his box just passing through, but that still didn’t happen so he guessed was okay.  At least inside they were relatively safe from the snow. It was still cold, though, but that wasn’t necessarily anything new to them. Morty ready himself and opened the box very carefully, as to not make any sound that could alert the others and ask him for a wafer. Oh, no, of course he wasn’t going to share shit. He had worked very hard for that box, expected so much of it and almost risked his life to obtain it. Something that was just about a innocent pleasure, not those that made him feel sick and ashamed hours later. Nope, this was his and his alone and everyone could fuck off. He unwrapped the first one and put it under his nose. Mmm, yes, that sweet, sweet vanilla scent. He hadn’t smelled anything like that in what felt like years. Did he ever do that? He didn’t remember, actually. He didn’t remember a lot about any kind of life before ending up in the Citadel. Didn’t knew if he had a Rick or a family, although he assumed he did at some point, but for some reason they just didn’t take care of him anymore. His story was just the same as thousands of other Mortys. It could have been worst. Some Mortys only remembered the bad things their Rick did to them or were responsible of. He didn’t feel any envy towards those poor fuckers. His Rick was probably an ass too anyway. No need to question that. He licked the side with just the tip of the tongue and felt the flavor of lemon filling him up. Good. Morty took a big breath and let out slowly, trying to remember that he had to control himself and not devour everything like some pig. Who knew when he was going to ever have something like that again? His hand trembled and he felt himself shake. Fuck, it was cold. Why the fuck they programmed the weather to be like that? What was the point? He took from his bag some extra clothing to cover himself. It was much, but it was a little better. Then took the wafer again. “Okay, little buddy “, he whispered, his breath coming out in white clouds. “Work your magic with me.” He took the first bite and chewed on it like a dog a toy. It was sweet, the best thing he ever had in his life, delicious. But that was it.  There was no feeling of getting high or warmer than before. It was just a wafer. A wafer that was kinda dried and would benefit from a glass of milk he didn’t had. “Oh, man”, he sighed. 

 Of course, he should have expected it. Since when a Morty has good luck? No matter.  It was still food and by god, he was going to enjoy his food. It was Christmas, goddamit! And fuck the milk, who needed that shit anyway! And so he ate, much calmer than before, while the calm and the quiet of the factory serve him as company. 

At some point the weather must have changed because he suddenly didn’t felt cold anymore. On the contraire, it was suddenly to hot to be so covered up. He undressed himself until being left only on his pants, chewing the wafer or at least he imagined he was still doing it. They were good. 

He would have liked them more to eat them at the table in the dinner room while mom bring him a glass of something, giving him a pat on the head before sitting next to him. He could almost picture her blonde hair and the red lipstick that parted on a soft smile. 

And dad… dad without a tablet, his same brown hair and bland clothing, coming from behind and messing his hair while greeting him before taking a sit too. A redhead teenager appeared then. 

“Hey, Morty”, she said and he knew her name was Summer, even though he was sure he never bothered to learn that name. “Enjoying yourself?” 

Before he could answer, he felt a hand rubbing against his shoulder and a voice he recognized instantly talking over his head. 

 “Of course he is, Summer “, said the voice he had heard in television, sometimes in Creepy Morty, sometimes in announcements throughout the city, never that close to him. “The little shit better enjoy the fuck out of those after the fucked up things he had to do to get them. No judging.” 

Morty looked up and found Rick smiling to him. It wasn’t just a Rick. It was his Rick. He knew.

 “How you do, M-Morty?”, said the old man, friendly. 

“What happened?”, asked Morty, feeling a single tear falling from his eye. “Where have you been?” 

“Aww, buddy, don’t give me that look”, Rick took the final chair at the table. “It wasn’t intentional, you know.” 

“People just don’t usually want to die, Morty”, pointed Summer, crossing her arms. “Don’t blame grandpa. He did what he could so at least you could escape. The sickness, remember?” Morty stared at her without blinking. “Oh, fuck, really? Did you erase that too, grandpa?” 

“Hey, excuse me if I don’t want the kid going around having the image of his screaming family falling apart in front of him”, said Rick, shrugging. 

At the mention of that, Morty immediately saw it again and grabbed his head. Oh god, he remembered. The scream, the smell of death, the vomits. Rick grabbing him and injecting him with something before pushing him through a portal, leaving himself behind because there was no enough to make two cures. 

“Oh, great, now you are done it “, said Jerry. “What is a nice family reunion without some trauma?” 

“Sweetie, it’s okay “, said Beth, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Once the thing got to our brains it was all over for us. It was relatively painless and quick.” 

“Talk for yourself”, said Summer. “You didn’t see it from the outside. It was gross.” 

“Well, guess what, changing diapers wasn’t also a pretty nice look but guess who had to do that fo…” 

“Wait!”, said Morty, putting both on the table, making the wafer and glass tremble. “W-what is this? I don’t understand. Am I d-d-dead?” 

“Duh”, Summer rolled her eyes. 

“Summer “, warned his parents before turning to him. 

“Oh, please “, said Rick. “We can cut the bullshit already. He already spoiled the twist so there is no point in act all mysterious and shit.” 

“Regardless “, said Jerry, turning to his son. “Morty, we are sorry that things didn’t turn out as okay as they should have but we are glad to see you again.”

 “That is what you get for trusting into the Citadel “, Rick raised to his feet. “My bad, little guy. I didn’t know what else to do then. I fucked up” 

Morty looked at the wafer and took a bit of one of them. It was still good. He didn’t knew how he could still taste it and didn’t want to question it either. He looked to his grandpa and found him looking down, waiting for his answer. 

“I forgive you “, said and Rick visibly relaxed, smiling. 

“Well, we have to go now”, said Beth, giving him a little pat on the back. Morty follow her to the front door. 

“Where are we going? “, he asked, for the first time realizing he had no idea. 

“You don’t have to worry about that “ Rick put his arm on his shoulder and gave him a little squeeze. “This is nothing more than our next big adventure, Morty. It’s gonna great!” 

The next morning a single Morty reported on the snowdin that occurred in the abandoned factory and a bunch of Rick cops were horrified to find a bunch of his alternative grandsons, unmoving. Forensic would determine later that they must have been sleeping when the ceiling fell off and let the snow reach them. 

[foodandwriting]

Ravioli, Ravioli, I Like Me Some Butternut Squash Ravioli

Blogger: Vima Villalba

          “Ravioli Ravioli Give Me the Formuoli”—a sweet chant in an episode from the legendary children’s television show, Spongebob Squarepants. I began my post this way because ravioli will be the hot topic for today, I love ravioli, and I also enjoy fun rhymes, so no other introduction could have been more fitting.

           I remember when I was in the 3rd or 4th grade, and my mom used to work late into the evenings, I had to rely on canned or microwaveable foods to sustain me, because at that time I didn’t know how to cook. Chef Boyardee was one of my favourite canned foods, and I specifically favoured the raviolis over the other pastas. Of course, when you’re a kid, you think that everything tastes SO GREAT, but now as an adult you realize how naïve you were and move on to better things. While Chef Boyardee’s ravioli will always have a special place in my heart, I have tried and tasted sophisticated and different kinds of raviolis from various restaurants throughout my adolescence and adulthood.

           One of my preferences is the classic Spinach and Ricotta Cheese Ravioli. The creamy, rich texture of the stuffing, in combination with the tartness of the tomato sauce drizzled on top, is a taste that never gets old. It’s also a simple dish to make which makes it more appealing. Personally, I have never made Spinach and Ricotta Cheese Ravioli, but I have made Spinach and Ricotta Cheese Stuffed Jumbo Pasta Shells, layered with the Classico Sweet Basil Marinara sauce and it tasted heavenly. I decided to mention this, because the only difference is the fact that I used Jumbo shells and not wrap it inside the ravioli dough. Other than the experience of eating those dishes, I would assume that they pretty much taste the same.  

           Another great dish that I’ve tried is a squash-filled ravioli—this is what I will be blogging about today. I’ve tried the Ravioli de Zucca from Terroni (the Adelaide location), which is stuffed with butternut squash and parmigiana, and covered with walnuts and gorgonzola sauce. It was a pleasant dish because when I bit into the ravioli, I tasted the sweetness from the squash, as well as the sharp taste of Gorgonzola from the smooth sauce. Another instance where I’ve tried a similar ravioli was at Scaddabush, an Italian restaurant that I truly adore. Their Zucca Ravioli is a dish where the hazelnut butter cream sauce, topped with poor man’s parmesan and fried sage envelop the butternut squash and Grana Padano filled raviolis. I also prefer this one over Ravioli de Zucca because when you take a bite you get both the cushiony and crunchy texture all at once from the filling and poor man’s parmesan. It’s like a party of vegetables and cooked dough in your mouth!

           I thought it would be a great idea to learn how to make this dish at home, so that I could save money and in the near future, experiment with the sauces that go with the stuffing. I was initially wary about using the brown butter sauce instead of something else (mostly because of the fact that the sauce is 90% butter), but this homemade dish tasted better than I thought. I find that the hazelnut and sage really compliment the brown butter sauce. Hence, if for any reason you wanted to omit any ingredient, I would strongly urge you to keep the sage because the sage makes all the difference in the flavour. Since it is fried, there will not be a strong, pungent taste, but rather a subtle flavour. In terms of the mixture, feel free to go all the way with mushing the squash or keeping the filling chunky. Moreover, the original recipe did not include hazelnuts as part of the filling, but I prefer to have the crunch and thought that it would taste better with the finely chopped hazelnuts in the squash mixture. If you choose to follow this idea, just add a bit of hazelnuts, because a majority of the hazelnuts will be needed for the sauce. Most of my thoughts while making this dish will be added with the subtitle ‘commentary’, because I had some trouble while making this dish. For example, I did not have most of the specific materials needed for this recipe, nevertheless, the pasta came out great so my testimony to you is: if you believe, you achieve!

           That’s enough blabbering for now, and I hope you get the chance to try this one out!

          I adopted this recipe from Buzzfeed’s Tasty, and the original recipe (which has simpler instructions) can be found here: https://tasty.co/recipe/easy-butternut-squash-ravioli

 Ingredients

2 small onions or 1 big onion, diced

1 whole butternut squash (small), skinned and chopped into cubes

4 cloves of garlic, minced

1 tablespoon of brown sugar

15 sage leaves (washed)

A little bit over ¼ cup chopped hazelnuts

2 cups flour

4 eggs

Olive oil

5 tablespoons of Butter

1 lemon

Salt & Pepper, to taste

Grated parmesan cheese

Specific Materials

Rolling Pin

Food Processor

Ice cube tray

Directions

Pre-heat the oven to 425°F (220°C)

For the Squash Stuffing

1)    Combine the chopped squash, diced onions, and minced garlic into a baking pan. Drizzle approximately 2 tablespoons of olive oil on top, then add salt and pepper to taste.

Commentary: To be honest, I just drizzled on what I thought was going to be 2 tablespoons of olive oil (LOL).

2)    Toss everything until the onions, garlic, and squash are fully coated with the salt, pepper, and olive oil.

3)    Place in the oven and bake for 30 minutes or until the squash is a nice golden-brown colour.

4)    Once the squash is ready, transfer it into a food processor, and add the brown sugar, a little bit of chopped hazelnuts, and parmesan cheese into the mixture. Pulse it until there are no lumps and the texture is smooth. Set it aside to cool down.

Commentary: Instead of a food processor, I used the magic bullet to blend out the mixture and it actually broke in the process, so I had to manually puree the squash mixture myself. I can confidently say that manually mixing the squash mixture turned out to be a success.

For the Pasta Dough

5)    It is best to make the dough while the squash is in the oven.

6)    Make sure that you clean the food processor because the dough will also be made using the processor.

7)    Mix in the flour, eggs, and 1 tablespoon of olive oil into the processor, pulsing it until the dough twirls around and turns into an enormous ball.

Commentary: It is crucial to follow these instructions because I just “eyed” the amount of olive oil that I added in, which was a very bad idea as the dough didn’t even look like dough at first (SMH). But after I cooled it and added more flour to roll it out, it looked like dough (#Winning)

8)    Take out the dough and wrap it in saran wrap.

9)    Put the wrapped dough into the refrigerator and chill for 30 minutes.

Making the Ravioli

10) Take out the ball of pasta dough from the refrigerator and cut out approximately 2 ounces, rolling it out so that the pasta sheets are thin and wide.

Commentary: You already know that I “eyeballed” 2 ounces of pasta dough.

Commentary: Also, I didn’t know why chefs always sprinkled flour all over their table when they rolled out the pasta, but now I finally understand. The reason is so that the dough doesn’t get stuck onto the table or rolling pin (I am shook).

Commentary: I have a confession to make—I did not have a rolling pin at hand, so I had to use a cylindrical glass water bottle to roll out my dough (*cries). Thus, my ravioli turned out thick as you can see in the photos.

11) Take the ice cube tray and put one pasta sheet over it, while gently pressing down on the holes, but do not break the pasta sheet. Just put enough pressure to create an indent.

12) Place approximately a tablespoon of the butternut squash filling into the holes/indents.

13) Then place another pasta sheet on top of the ice cube tray, covering the butternut squash filling. Press down on the sides of the raviolis so that the filling is sealed.  

14) Flip over the ice cube tray, cut off the excess dough, then separate the raviolis with a pizza cutter

Commentary: Any cutting tool will suffice.

15) Repeat this process until all the stuffing or dough is used up.

16) Boil water and add salt.  

Commentary: The salt prevents the raviolis from sticking together.

17) When the water is boiling, place the raviolis and wait for 2-3 minutes or until they float to the top.

18) Drain the raviolis.

For the Hazelnut Brown Butter Sauce

19) In a pan, put in 3 tablespoons of butter, the rest of the chopped hazelnuts, and the sage leaves.

20) Let it simmer until the butter is browned and until the sage leaves look a bit crispy

21) Turn off the heat and squeeze a whole lemon into the sauce, then add salt and pepper to taste.

22) To thicken the sauce, add 2 tablespoons of butter.

23) Pour the boiled raviolis and toss them around.

The pasta is ready to be served!

[lysitheaioandeuropa]

1-100 cute questions

:~)

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?- more cereal than milk! it has to be crunchy and milk is fucking gross, even though i use almond milk instead

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?- FUCK yeah, especially if it's also sunny outside

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?- grocery receipts are the usual culprit. maybe i should make my own bookmarks!

4: how do you take your coffee/tea?- rn i'm having sugar free white chocolate w half & half and 3 splenda

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?- i'm self conscious of my entire existence my friend

6: do you keep plants?- yes! she gave me and orchid and a bamboo plant a while back, and i have ian my aloe/succulent

7: do you name your plants?- lmfao yes, ian! she named the bamboo melman, and i never named the orchid. zack and sabrina are no longer w us unfortunately

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?- i used to write and draw a lot. i don't get a chance to do it as often now but i rly am trying more. i'll even try my hand at inktober this year but yikes scared bc i can't actually draw

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?- hell yeah bitch if i am in the mood for it

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?- all of the above? lmao. my back is most cozy but sleep paralysis, so a mix of side stomach like its a specific diagonal ass position on my bed lol

11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends?- "coming this soon"

12: what's your favorite planet?- FUCKING JUPITER BRO OMFG MY URL ARE TWO OF MY FAVE MOONS OF JUPITER TEST ME BITCH

13: what's something that made you smile today?- i don't think i've smiled today? maybe something michelle said earlier when we went to lowe's

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?- *takes pics of my current place*might have a little more aesthetic to it just bc location though. and if i live in a bigger city than orlando that means i have more money to REALLY fulfill my aesthetic wishes

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!- Recent work by planetary scientists has indicated that the deep atmospheres of Jupiter and Saturn may contain chunks of diamond floating in a liquid hydrogen-helium fluid. MEANING, it rains diamonds on jupiter

16: what's your favorite pasta dish?- permission crusted chicken, w angel hair in a lemon butter sauce

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?- i was going for a magenta over the summer and was p successful but my mom paid for me to not keep lightening and shit, that wasn't my money so idc lol rn its auburn-ish. i rly do still want a light blond/almost gray though

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.- the time i got incredibly drunk, like, throwing up and dying can't even walk drunk like wow i'm not like that lmao so when that happens it's wild

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?- i have multiple journals and a sketch book. the sketch book is whatever i feel inspired to draw atm and bc thats so rare i just be picking it up and going lmao. i hardly write anymore, these questions kinda keep me going

20: what's your favorite eye color?- light brown is vastly underrated tbh, like yeah green is cool but i have always been a sucker for hazel or just noticeably lighter brown eyes. i remember this one boy in the 8th grade had me swooning w that alone lmao and ofc my gf now its soo nice

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.- i no longer have it, but i had the same jansport since the seventh grade. i used to customize it and sew on letters or iron on, change it up ever so often, and got rid of it senior year of high school

22: are you a morning person?- i really am not, but everyone thinks i am since i'm up at 6am even the days i ain't got shit to do

23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?- PLAY VIDEO GAMES. draw, do these questions, sometimes even brainstorm ideas about books i'll never write

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?- shit every single one of them? well nvm, yeah there is. jordan. that's my ride or die forreal and honestly i think she does know ABSOLUTELY everything there is to know about me. timmy too actually!

25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into?- hmm idk if it counts but this one "abandoned house" in the gables to smoke, and the rooftop of merrick park late at night

26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit?- bro i had these low top black and white converse that i got for christmas one year from this boy that rly liked me lmao i kept them for a hotttt minute, through college i think but had to throw them away when the sole finally gave out

27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor?- just mint is fine

28: sunrise or sunset?- sunset

29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?- just how she remembers and notices absolutely everything. i moved a pin in my room once and after not having been over for a week she asked me where it was as soon as she walked in

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?- yeah last night when i was home alone and i swear i thought i heard knocks on my bedroom door which would be impossible. fuck no i didn't open it

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.- i think socks are cool, they make my feet soft if i put them on immediately after showering & moisturizing. they protect your heels from getting too cracked as well. i don't care for white socks, but am a slut for black no show ones. i sometimes have to buy kids socks bc my feet are so fucking small that no show, still show. i like aesthetic socks! like the ones w cartoons and stuff like that. and knee high socks can be sexy, just maybe not on me?

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.- i don't be w friends like that? OH but this one night we went to see Laidback Luke at Space and then we went to Nikki beach to drink some more and watch the sun rise and we all rly bonded and i learned some shit about my friends i def ain't know before it was rly nice. there was a dog we met there named molly LMFAO

33: what's your fave pastry?- i like lemon and red velvet stuff. guava and cheese pastries are good too i miss them

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?- okay i didn't rly have any stuffed animals as a kid, but that boy i was obsessed with, omar, he gave me a plush lil puppy one year for christmas and omg i cherished it lmao. but then my dog got it and i was so sad :(

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?- FUCK YEAH I DO. i use them often, though not as often as before like i need to get back on track w being organized

36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now?- arctic monkeys, always

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?- clean!!!! i finished cleaning it completely today and wow i feel like a brand new person

38: tell us about your pet peeves!- messes stress me outtttttt, like gross unhygienic messes omfg

39: what color do you wear the most?- black bitch, next

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you?- i have these 1/4 carat diamond earrings that i received as a christmas gift last year from one of my kids and it was just so sweet and i rly love them, they're the only earrings i wear now

41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving?- the zodiac series! and lord of shadows!

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!- no i don't, not yet at least. i would like to find a rly rly nice one, maybe we'll go hunting for one next weekend. there are two rly good boba places i like though!

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?- michelle maybe? and no gaze, we just noticed the starts were nice during that hurricane lmao

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?- july 8, 2017 it was short lived limited to just that day lmao but it was nice

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?- some times? my instincts don't be telling me a lot tbh

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.- "what did the cell say to his sister when she stepped on his foot? Mitosis"

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?- sea food? fucking pickles!! mustard too

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?- roaches, and possibly hell yeah

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?- i do! but i have apple music now so i do not buy music or anything any more

50: what's an odd thing you collect?- tickets. plane tickets, parking tickets, concert tickets, admission tickets, sometimes even receipts, if it has a nice enough memory attached to it i collect it

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?- nothing i can think of at the moment

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far?- salt bae, all the "it" memes, the neo yokio memes, "i had to do it to em," x-files memes

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?- i'm familiar w rocky horror & the heathers, love beattle juice, haven't watched pulp fiction

54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?- myself whenever i look in the mirror

55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point?- i don't rly be doing shit "just to prove a point" thats rly petty

56: what are some things you find endearing in people?- love when their faces light up talking about some shit that gets them hype

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?- i rly don't fucking care for bohemian rhapsody like why is that a thing

58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?- i am vodka aunt

59: what's your favorite myth?- I LOVE ALL GREEK MYTHOLOGY EQUALLY. norse mythology is cool too, as is celtic but i think greek is my fave

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?- poetry is hard to get into bc so much of it doesn't resonate w me or comes off as fake deep tumblr posts (i'm looking @ you milk and honey). howl by allen ginsberg is still my fave

61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received?- i'm always surprised to be getting any gifts at all, i don't think i have ever received anything "stupid." my gf used to love giving me food and candy though but like i'm fat so no. and i don't give gifts without putting any thought into it so i have never given a "stupid" gift either.

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?- no, i drink ice cold water and coffee. sometimes crystal light which isn't rly juice to me i think its just flavored water

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?- nigga YES! i just reorganized my entire bookshelf and my itunes is not as neat bc i'm behind but i also keep that rly meticulously done

64: what color is the sky where you are right now?- blue-ish gray

65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with?- my gf, lmao. thuy!!!! nick and andres too omg!!

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?- not roses, it'd be an assortment of a ton of flowers, lots of pink and green and white

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?- i fucking THRIVE it's nice, scary movie and reading weather

68: what's winter like where you live?- it's FAKE AS HELL. i wish it just a tad cooler, like ten or fifteen degrees

69: what are your favorite board games?- i like scategories and the game of life. candyland!

70: have you ever used a ouija board?- those are caucasian activities no thank you

71: what's your favorite kind of tea?- great tea or tazo passion tea

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it?- HELL YEAH and i'll note it down multiple times like written, typed, phone agenda, etc it's hard and i hate my shit memory

73: what are some of your worst habits?- procrastination is the worst i think

75: tell us about your pets!- i don't have any :( i would count zeus but i'm also deathly allergic to him

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't?- yeah!!!!! smh

77: pink or yellow lemonade?- "why not both?" probably pink more

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?- hate that shit they're so ugly and annoying and gross and hate how they talk like bro

79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?- i never thought my mom cared about me tbh but she threw me a huge graduation/birthday party i cried.

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?- they're a nude/beige, i didn't pick it but i'm also not painting over. its nice though

81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.- this sounds nice in theory but i dont rly have the energy for it rn lol

82: are/were you good in school?- i was but i coasted, had i tried a lot harder and dedicated more time to it i could have been better

83: what's some of your favorite album art?-i can't think of any rly  

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?- i have to add to what i have on my back, and have a few more i would like but am not sure about

85: do you read comics? what are your faves?- i do! i'm actually reading one now on tumblr, its called countdown to countdown and its rather interesting. i like twd comics, and am also reading the OoT manga. i rly love manga too actually, inuyasha was the first one i read that got me into it

86: do you like concept albums? which ones?- BECAUSE THE INTERNET, CHILDISH GAMBINO

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?- i've seen a ton of movies dude. i think spirited away or kiki's delivery service, or princess mononoke. ghibli movies w strong female leads. howl's moving castle too but it does focus more on romance. i should reread the book

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?- i'm not familiar enough w art to tell you! i think art is rly interesting though, and don't particularly care for modern art

89: are you close to your parents?- not rly, but am more so as an adult. i don't tell them my business or anything like that though

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.- seattle just really resonates w me and the more i talk about it the stupider it sounds. but i have been to quite a few cities, DC, atlanta, Tallahassee, miami, san diego, vegas, the list goes on. none of them made me feel the way seattle does. maybe bc i went alone? maybe the time period that i went? some of the memories attached to the city kind of suck now, lol, but still rly important to me

91: where do you plan on traveling this year?- nowhere in particular this year, but i'm def going back to seattle next year guaranteed, maybe doing paradiso

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?- if its my own sauce then no cheese at all, otherwise olive garden def hates me

93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most?- i just wash it and wear it down

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?- today is felisha's bday apparently

95: what are your plans for this weekend?- uh idk, ig see my gf. i'm avoiding a baby shower but idk what we'll do instead

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?- i procrastinate on them a ton lmfao "remind me later" yeah bitch in like a century

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?- INTP, gemini, ravenclaw

98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?- i don't think i ever have gone hiking

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.- i'm sure there are a few but nothing i can think of off the top of my head. reflection by 5h actually lol

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?- FIVE YEARS INTO THE PAST and five years ago is a rly good time to go back to!!! i was 20 and going through suchhhhh a bad break up but i wish i could have gotten up and been a bad bitch sooner lol i love the stuff i experienced that year, went to my first edc and whatnot. 2013 was rough on me but i pushed through it! 2014 i made some bad choices that i would change, 2015 wan alright but i can do it better and i'm not even sure what 2016 was. i would have started teaching sooner had i known it was something i could do i think. i would have worked harder and been more responsible especially financially, though tbh i did pretty well. i'd just do adulthood a lot better and start off a lot stronger. I WOULD REDO THAT LOCKHEED INTERVIEW AND ROCK THE SHIT OUT OF IT.

[notifychill4-blog]

The BEST Homemade Apple Pie Filling

The BEST Homemade Apple Pie Filling is a must have recipe for the holiday season! Perfect for pies, cobblers, strudels, and more! Tastes SO much better than store bought!

Apple recipes are my FAVORITE! Make sure to try these Caramel Apple Cupcakes and Deep Dish Dutch Apple Pie. Don’t forget the Homemade Apple Pie Spice (it’s a money saver this time of year!) 

Apple Pie Filling

Hard to believe that summer is coming to an end – so soon! Summer is the greatest season of all for canning. Fruits and vegetables are available in abundance and my garden is in it’s prime, showing off all that it has to offer. My Nana was an amazing canner (tomatoes were her specialty) and I just love what canning represents – preserving those fruits and vegetables that we may not have access to year-round and cutting out waste.

I’ve shared my plum jam recipe before and my homemade pasta sauce with you as well. Today, I’m excited to share one of my favorite canning recipes for homemade apple pie filling. One of our apple trees is an early bloomer resulting in lots of ripe apples ready to go in early July. By the end of July, the apple season is over – at least for that tree 😉

The tree is always laden with apples, producing much more than we can eat. Homemade apple pie filling is the obvious answer! Making pie filling ahead of time as we approach the fall season ensures that I have what I need on hand throughout the holiday season. Apple pies are something we enjoy A LOT and make in abundance. Having the BEST homemade apple pie filling on hand makes my life so much easier!

Make sure to refer to these helpful tips from Ace Hardware before you get started: If You Can Boil Water, You Can – CAN!

How to Make the BEST Apple Pie Filling

Peel, core, and slice apples. It’s a lot. Use one of these great tools to make this process go by quickly.

Now it’s time to cook the apples. You are going to want to use the largest stock pot that you have available. It’s going to seem like a crazy amount of apples, but bit by bit they cook down and look like this:

The fruit is brought to a boil and then simmers for just 5 minutes. Next it’s time to stir in the spices and lemon juice. To make things easy, I used my homemade apple pie spice. (If you’re not a fan of clove, I give measurements for using just cinnamon and nutmeg as well.)

The apples and juice are then ladled into hot jars (the jars are heating up in the canner while the apples are cooking)…

Once the lids are put on and the bands tightened, off to the canner they go. I am in LOVE with my Ball Electric Water Bath Canner – it’s seriously amazing!

The jars are processed for 30 minutes and then…

That’s it! The jars sit out overnight and then off to the pantry they go! Jars of the apple pie filling make excellent gifts! I used a cupcake liner, some twine, and a label to add a little pizazz. When this filling is made into an apple pie…whoah! My husband and kids both agree that this is the BEST APPLE PIE around!

Tips for the Best Homemade Apple Pie Filling

Use the right tools for the job. I think canning can be overwhelming the first, oh, ONE HUNDRED times you do it. But, if you have the right tools, canning can be fun and oh so rewarding. I’ve included lots of links to the tools I use in this post to help you out. This is also a great recipe to start with because it really is very simple.

Read through the directions TWICE. Pull out all your tools and equipment before you get started. This will make the process more streamlined and easy to follow once you get going.

I use my homemade apple pie spice to season this apple pie filling. Please, feel free to use your own blend of spices to get the flavor you want. Adding more or less of the apple pie spice is also okay.

Using different varieties of apples can produce better flavor. I aim to have at least two varieties when I make the filling.

This recipe is very, very simple and I’ve provided what I hope to be detailed instructions on the canning process (which is easier than you might think!) but if this is your first time canning I highly recommend that you take a look at one or both of these Ball Canning Books:  The All New Ball Book Of Canning And Preserving: Over 350 of the Best Canned, Jammed, Pickled, and Preserved Recipes and/or the Ball Complete Book of Home Preserving.

How To Make Apple Pie Filling

The BEST Homemade Apple Pie Filling

The BEST Homemade Apple Pie Filling! Perfect for pies, cobblers, strudels, and more! Keep on hand for an easy holiday season! Makes a lovely gift too!

Course: Dessert

Cuisine: American

Keyword: dessert

Servings: 12

Calories: 228 kcal

Author: Trish - Mom On Timeout

Ingredients

6 lbs apples peeled cored, sliced (about 18 cups)

1 1/2 cups granulated sugar

6 tbsp lemon juice

3 tbsp Apple Pie Spice or 2 1/2 Tbsp cinnamon + 1 tsp ground nutmeg

Pie Assembly

3 tbsp cornstarch

pinch of salt

Instructions

Fill your canner or stockpot halfway with water. Add cleaned jars to the water, filling the jars with water to make sure they don't float. Heat water almost to a simmer.

The jars need to be hot when they are filled so just keep them in the hot water until they are needed.

Combine apples and sugar in the largest stock pot you have available.

Bring mixture to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally.

Reduce heat to medium and simmer for 5 minutes, uncovered, stirring frequently.

Remove from heat and stir in lemon juice and spices.

Using a funnel, fill the hot jars one a time. The jar and the apples will be hot so be careful.

Measure 1/2 - inch headspace (the space between the food and the top of the jar).

Remove any air bubbles by sliding a spatula between the jar and the apples. A bubble remover also works great.

Use a damp paper towel to clean the rim and threads of each jar.

Place the lid on the jar. Add the band and tighten.

Use a jar lifter to place each jar into the canner.

Water should cover the jars by one to two inches.

Place lid on the canner (or stockpot) and bring water to a full rolling boil.

Once at a full boil, set timer for 30 minutes.

Once the processing is finished, remove the lid and turn off the heat. Let the jars rest for 5 minutes before using a jar lifter to remove jars.

Place jars on a towel and let rest, undisturbed for 12 to 24 hours. Do not touch the lids or bands.

Check lids to make sure that they sealed properly. The center of the lid should not move up and down when pressed and the lid should not come off easily when you try to pull it off with your fingers.

Finally, remove the bands, add labels, and store in a cool, dry place. The apple pie filling is good for up to 1 year.

Pie Assembly

When you are ready to make a pie, drain about 1/3 to 1/2 cup of liquid from the filling into a large bowl. Whisk in corn starch and salt until nice and smooth. Add remaining apple pie filling to the bowl and and stir gently to combine.

Make pie according to directions.

Nutrition Facts

The BEST Homemade Apple Pie Filling

Amount Per Serving

Calories 228

% Daily Value*

Sodium 3mg 0%

Potassium 259mg 7%

Total Carbohydrates 59g 20%

Dietary Fiber 5g 20%

Sugars 48g

Vitamin A 2.4%

Vitamin C 16.6%

Calcium 2.3%

Iron 3%

* Percent Daily Values are based on a 2000 calorie diet.

Originally published August 27, 2016

More of my favorite apple recipes:

Apple Walnut Strudel

Slow Cooker Apple Cider Maple Meatballs

Caramel Apple Oat Bars

Caramel Apple Empanadas

For all caramel recipes, go HERE. For all dessert recipes, go HERE. Sign up to get emails when I post new recipes! For even more great ideas follow me on Facebook – Pinterest – Instagram – Twitter – Bloglovin’.

Have a great day!

Disclosure: Ace Hardware has provided me with the products used within this project. I was compensated for this blog post. All opinions are my own and do not necessarily reflect those of Ace Hardware. Thank you for supporting the brands that make Mom On Timeout possible!

Source: https://www.momontimeout.com/best-homemade-apple-pie-filling/

[imaginetonyandbucky]

The Witch and the Warrior

Author Note: The Killer and the Kid has been my number one most requested “more of this” fic (with over 40 requests between tumblr and A03) since I started working at Imagine Tony & Bucky. Working with the idea, I found I had an awful lot more to say. Therefore, I’m going to continue this series as the mood strikes (unlike Helping Hands, which is updated weekly) I hope you enjoy the second part. I’m in outline phase for part three, The Captain and the Consequences.

T’challa, King of Wakanda, son of T’chaka, grandson of Azzuri, the Black Panther, protector of Wakanda, stood in the wreckage of his home and made arrangements for the care of the injured, the honor of the dead warriors, the incarceration of prisoners, and all those tasks that took place at the end of the battle.

The foreigners, the Americans, the rogue Avengers, were weary, blood splattered. Some of them were injured, but none particularly in danger. The silver-blonde boy that Stark had brought with him had a broken collarbone, painful, but not fatal. His sister, Wanda, hovered at his side, even now unable to look away from her brother’s face, unable to take her hand off his arm.

“Sorry about this, your highness,” the Captain said, coming up beside T’challa, looking over the ruins of the audience hall and the subsequent destruction of the courtyards.

“It was a risk I accepted,” T’challa said, his voice deep and thoughtful, “when I granted you sanctuary. That someone would come for you; Hydra, the United Nations. Eventually, you would be discovered.”

“Stark?”

T’challa rolled his eyes -- he was a trained diplomat, but sometimes people could be so… petty. “I deem it unlikely that Stark would lead such as these deliberately into my people’s lands. If he were looking to force you to return, to imprison you, I do not believe he would have arrived here, without his suit.” Beside which, Stark had known where the renegade Avengers were within ten days of their arrival; he’d been working closely (if secretively) with the Wakandan scientists to amplify and ready his Binarily Augmented Retro Framing device, that they might use it to deprogram Sergeant Barnes. He’d also consulted and provided schematics to replace the Winter Soldier’s metal arm that had been destroyed in Siberia.

In short, Tony Stark was, as he always did, looking out for his teammates, whether they knew it or not, whether they appreciated it or not.

T’challa stroked his chin. It was not his place to enlighten these Americans. Wisdom didn’t come from a place of lecture; it was either learned from experience, or it remained unearned.

“<Sire>.” One of his men approached, bowed his head. He spoke in Xhosa, as had been the general order whenever there was information T’challa might not want to share with his guests. That was a ruse that probably wouldn’t last much longer. The Witch had a natural talent for languages. But she was not looking their way at the present. “<They are missing. There are many dead in that direction.>” He slanted a glance at Rogers.

<”Did you find what happened to our friend?”> T’challa did not want to draw Rogers’ attention.

<”He seems to have been with the soldier when they left the compound. Not willing.”>

“Eish,” T’challa swore, and Rogers turned to look. That word, perhaps, T’challa used a little too often.

“Something wrong?”

“Your friend has woken early and is… not where we left him,” T’challa explained. There was no point in concealing it; Rogers would find out soon enough. “He may have taken the ensorcelled Stark with him.”

“Took Tony? Why?”

“You would, perhaps, know better than I.”

[mobile readers, there’s a readmore cut here.] 

Being dragged back to the Wakanda compound like a runaway toddler was pissing Tony off. The Winter Soldier -- who should not have woken up in that mindset and Tony was wondering in the half of his brain that wasn’t otherwise occupied by being pissed off, what had happened that his brainwashing had reset -- had Tony balanced on his hip, the metal arm wrapped around Tony’s waist. The position was only slightly less undignified than wrapped up like a burrito and hanging over the Winter Soldier’s shoulder. But only barely.

Tony made that fucking arm; it shouldn’t be being put to use to contain him.

“You know I’m perfectly capable of walking, right?”

“You know your legs are at least a foot shorter than they used to be, right?” the Winter Soldier snapped back. “And you’ve already proven to be untrustworthy.”

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from you, Manchurian Candidate,” Tony said, crossing his arms and leaning back as far as he could. He’d tried this maneuver a few times already, and chances were good he was going to end up falling on his head, but it was possible that the Winter Soldier would lose his grip. “In case you forgot, you tried to kill me once already.”

The Winter Soldier’s steps faltered. “You said that before.” The Winter Soldier stopped his ground eating pace through the thick jungle, dropped Tony to the ground and steadied him, twisted himself into a graceful squat, which put him on eye level with the pint-sized Avenger. “I don’t… I don’t remember. Tell me what I did.”

“You lied,” Tony said, eyes widening, less an accusation and more a revelation. “When I asked if you remembered killing my mom. You said you remembered them all, but you lied. Why would you lie about that? You don’t remember anything you do when you’re out of it, do you?”

The Winter Soldier appeared to consider the question, his gray-blue eyes serious. Finally, he said, soft, “Did you need me to? I killed someone you loved.” He licked his lips, his expression shattering. “Would it have given you comfort?”

Tony shrugged, his feelings a mess of shit and anger shoved in a blender.

The Winter Soldier drew one of his weapons and offered to Tony. “Will revenge make it better?”

Tony scoffed. “I’m not going to shoot you in cold blood,” he said, not taking the weapon. He squinted, then, “Holy shit. You want someone to kill you.”

The Winter Soldier shrugged. “I want someone to stop me. I know what I am, even if I don’t know what I’ve done.”

“Jesus,” Tony said. “Well, it’s not going to be me. I don’t take out Hydra’s trash for them.”

The Winter Soldier holstered the gun. “Are we done, then?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just extended the metal hand to Tony and stood up. Warily, as if expecting the fingers to clamp down, or to drag him back up to the Winter Soldier’s side, Tony took the metal fingers. The Winter Soldier clasped his hand lightly, like a parent with a kid crossing the street. At a much more moderate pace, keeping Tony’s short legs in mind, the Winter Soldier continued back toward the compound.

Tony scowled at the fire, low burning and smokeless, that the Winter Soldier had set up. He was probably going to have to give up and let himself be carried the rest of the way back. They’d made shitty progress that day, and the compound was still another eight hours walk away. At least.

Watching the Winter Soldier tickle fish out of the river had been interesting, at least. He stepped into the water, slow and easy, not even causing a ripple, then put his metal hand down. Time passed and the Winter Soldier hardly moved, breathing slow and shallow, then suddenly in a flurry of motion, he lunged, snapped up and tossed a wriggling catfish onto the shore.

“Get it, get it,” the Winter Soldier said, and Tony rushed forward to struggle with a huge, black fish that was almost half as long as he was, dragging it back into the wood. The Winter Soldier had gutted the fish, wrapped it in leaves, and spitted the whole thing over the fire. After making Tony promise to stay there -- and actually trusting him to do so -- the Winter Soldier disappeared into the jungle and returned with his shirt over his shoulder, stuffed full of a red fruit that was about the size of a lemon and tasted like a cross between a grape and and a cranberry.

They ate piping hot, flakey fish off leaves and Tony found himself leaning against the Winter Soldier as it got darker, aware of his tiny stature and propensity for looking like tiger food. In the curve between the Winter Soldier’s metal arm and his ribs, Tony found a warm, safe nest, and didn’t even mind as the Winter Soldier spread the shirt he’d used as a basket, over Tony’s form. “Sleep, kid,” he said, low and soft, “I’ll keep ya safe.”

“Not a kid,” Tony muttered, but snuggled against the Winter Soldier’s side and let his eyes drift shut.

Steve had seen some strange shit, even before he woke up from being in the deep-freeze for seventy years. But Bucky walking into the Wakanda compound hand in hand with a four-year-old Tony Stark just about took the cake.

And then, even more astounding, was the fact that the Wakandan guard descended, guns at the ready, and rather than Bucky going into defense mode -- Steve had watched that several times, Bucky’s response had always been violence, or fleeing -- he’d just stood there. Tony, on the other hand, had snatched up one of the pistols and pointed it directly at the captain’s head. “Don’t you fucking touch him,” he snapped, weirdly adorable and angry at the same time.

“No one will come to harm, Mr. Stark,” T’challa said, moving into the courtyard with haste. He snapped a few words in that clicking language that the Wakandans spoke.

Bucky gave T’challa a quick bow, answering in the same tongue, his mouth moving quickly through an explanation that Steve couldn’t understand at all.

“I did not know you spoke our tongue,” T’challa said, chagrined.

“I didn’t know it, either,” Bucky said. “Where’s the witch?”

Wanda came out, floating on a cloud of her red-mist magic. “What do you want?”

“Fix it,” Bucky said, indicating Tony with a jerk of his chin.

“Why should I?” Wanda stared down at the little boy, her eyes crackling with red fire. “Maybe, this time, he will grow up to be less terrible. He will have time, to think of the choices he has made. Time, like I had, in that prison.”

“Were your choices better?” Bucky asked, calm, quiet. His voice was deadly, his face unforgiving. “Made the right ones, all the time, did you? And when you didn’t, did you make up for your mistakes? Help heal the harm you’d caused?”

Wanda shivered, the red mist dying under her feet and she lowered heavily to the ground. “No,” she answered.

“Then make better ones,” Bucky urged. “Fix this. You’re the only one who can.”

“I… um,” Wanda started, licking at her lips. She stared around helplessly. Her brother, his arm in a sling, came up behind her, touched her shoulder.

“She can’t,” Pietro said.

“Why not?”

Wanda blinked a few times. “I… I don’t know how. I don’t know what I did the first time. I don’t know how to undo it.”

Tony sighed, throwing his hands up in the air, the disgust and despair weighing oddly on his tiny frame. “Figures.”

Bucky heaved a sigh, then dropped to one knee at Tony’s side. “We’ll figure it out, then,” he said, drawing the boy into a hug. Steve’s jaw dropped as Tony threw his arms around Bucky’s chest, seeking comfort from one of the people who should have been his greatest enemy. Bucky put his arms around the boy and stared at Steve.

“Bucky,” Steve said, walking up. Bucky scooped the boy up and half-turned, hand coming up defensively as if Steve was a threat. “What are you doing?”

“Making better choices,” Bucky said, keeping himself between Steve and the boy.

To Be Continued

Story Note: Eish is a Xhosa word, with a kind of “sheesh” connotations, a very mild swear. Xhosa is an African language, commonly referred to as the “click language.” In Captain America: Civil War, the actor who played T’chaka (John Kani) speaks it and taught it to Chadwick Boseman during the filming. 

[lucpix]

well! I’ve published this short story in the fan site column where I also work as a Graphics Manager! (I think they will not mind if I post here too!)

Betelgeuse-Bound

Playing the omnipotent creature was one of Lisa’s pastimes. Finding herself in an absolute period of inner hassles and boredom (her father was on the outside, adjusting the central satellite that will probably establish the final radio signals from the Betelgeuse supernova, saying something, like “We are coming, Gorillas!!!“), she still does not understand very well why has the separation of her parents made her intrinsically inclined to live with her father, instead of living with her mom, at Earth, Gibblon, 7243 Carpenter Street, playing with a bile-coloured hose and – most important of all – classmates whose intelligence were higher than 100 IQ, made of flesh and bones. Up to the present time, the holographic friends that her father had thoroughly designed for her (and obviously to fuel his own satisfaction of constructing things that know how to speak HELLO, HUMAN after pressing a green button located behind the nape of their necks) were not interesting enough. What kind of 11-year-old human from Earth would spend so many hours openly arguing about hybrid genres (with occasional advertisements while they stop to breathe)?

– I…simply… pff… I do not understand… the scientific explanation … pff… that implies the existence of… pffbinary genres …

– Why do not we play Uno while this meteor shower goes on?

– (ACTIVAR MODO ESPAÑOL” BEEP!) Uno sería considerado… pff… el género masculino mientras que… pff… Zero sería, obviamente, representado por la mujer y…

– Let’s start over, Ashley. My name is Lisa and I have administrator rights to set you up so that you are one of my closest friends. What do you usually play?

– SPECIAL OFFERS FOR THE FIRST 15 PEOPLE CONNECTING TO FLOWER-PLAY, THE BEST DISTRIBUTOR OF HANDMADE WOOD VASES FROM THE SECOND HALF OF MILKY WAY. YELLOW, RED OR BLUE. IT IS NECESSARY TO ADDRESS BOLT SIGNALS TO 2@5 CL…

-Switch off “Ashley-How-Do-You-Know-Me-So-Well? Hologram”, please…

Another failed attempt at communication. When available to her, Lisa’s father often says that there is a combination of keywords that would make a human-hologram conversation much more natural and interesting, but finding such words would only be possible if he opened the circuit boards and read the manual that he accidentally forgot in there… and he is too busy saving the galaxy – one more time!

Now, even if for a single moment, it’s just the two of them – Lisa and that tiny blue sparkle – far beyond the strong window made out of neotempered glass. She fairly thinks it’s Earth, but it’s hard to tell as the universe is so… reddish, for some reason! Is it an illusion?

Situations like these make our Lisa think a lot, in a way she has never done before, as if a tragic clown had appeared in her pink room inside the N00DLE-ship and put on her nose a bag of helium gas (and only God knows what else) and made her get those sudden but pleasant daydreams… Perhaps it is just those space pills that ridiculously try to copy the turkey seasonings that her grandmother used to prepare, which her intestine refuses to accept fully…

Looking at the Earth from such a distance makes me reflect on many things I had never thought of before, on the extreme lines of our complete insignificance (but, thinking well, Daddy said that no living being is insignificant …) and how human intelligence has so far compensated for our relatively small size and made it possible for us to rearrange the full extent of that green and blue ball in a way that we could do a multitude of things, such as time traveling, matter generating and… spaceships, as the one I’m in, which makes me see Earth at such a long distance … so that its entire extension gains the inviting and funny shape of a single house… no, an anthill… so fragile that for a moment it is as if it could be completely malleable by my own hands, right now – heh!

Opening her eyes, Lisa was startled to realise that in some way she did not know, she was cutting through the immensity of outer space, floating alone in the purest pitch, unless you considered the spot of terrestrial light now located much closer than before. Ignoring the logic and the fact that she was breathing oxygen despite only wearing her lemon-coloured dress, she floated forward, as if she could reach the surface of the blue planet only a few seconds ahead… and that was what happened!

Perhaps because of lack of time or a moment of neglect, her father had NEVER mentioned to her about the fact that, thanks to the theory of relativity, humans grow in size to a degree of kilometers as they progress toward interstellar treks, and… now… thanks to a simple stumbling on the satellite that was exhibiting cartoons entertaining thousands of Japanese children (the Sun is shining on the far east side), the whole of Tokyo has been destroyed by her knees

Desperate, Lisa quickly unscrews her leg from a place where people would probably be drawing thousands of manga, traveling by train with those announcers saying “Mamonaku”, and cycling on those so-clear streets. She feels a heat in the bones that makes her laugh a little. Is it because of the volcanoes?

She watches a few fragments of matter flying through space and finds that the flock of objects (like ants) are the Japanese themselves, and then has the idea of closing in to examine the victims one by one in order to apologise them for destroy their homes. She calculates that Tokyo had about 5 million people, so she programs her cell phone (even though she does not remember having taken it from her backpack) to reproduce a female voice sounding “I did not mean it!” nine million times at full speed.

-I did not meI did not meI did not meI did not meI did not meI did not meI did not meI did not meI did not meI did not meI did not meI did not me […]

The heat of the sun, now so close to her “little head”, made crazy ideas grow inside her. As if to justify the act, Lisa closes her eyes as she puts her fingers in the oceanic regions of the Earth, where there were certainly far fewer humans than on land, and begins to shake the planet, slowly, as not to hurt anyone in it of that nitrogen layer. Her attempt to be gentle failed miserably, and suddenly a scary mass of humans began to be tossed out of orbit. This makes her increase the number of loopings to her voice audio file to: three billion times!!

– I DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID N […]

Knowing that now the Earth is completely uninhabited and the turmoil made its whole surface washed with the drops of its own ocean, Lisa feels a little hungry, mainly because both her body and her stomach began to grow a little more, so that the planet was the exact size of a lemon bonbon. Without thinking twice or feeling the slightest remorse, she puts all the contents of the spherical matter in her mouth, and for a moment she thinks she is eating some sort of food that had all the flavours of the world on it. And, in a way, that was exactly it. Paradoxically, the warm occasionally becomes cold, the good turns into bad and the bitter sweetened after two bites. Indeed, it resembled a little the roast chicken she ate last week.

After swallowing, she thinks about all the seeds, plants, and microorganisms of various species that were still to exist in the world and she thought she owed something to them. After an improvised calculation, she increases the number of repeats in the playback of her audio file to three hundred billion and buys the premium version of the application for a higher playback speed.

-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII […]

Bored, Lisa decides to reach Venus, which is not far from where she is. But her body did not move anymore. It is kind of stuck in something; upon examining her back, she sees that the Moon still is connected to Earth (now, next to Lisa’s liver) and its gravitational power prevents the girl from advancing into the “air”. It is the most terrifying thing in the world, indeed, it feels like a nightmare. She imitates in vain swimming movements on the pitch black without oxygen to see if she is able to move a few miles, but has no success. She also feels something growing inside her, a very funny inner heat but also quite painful, like the result of a failed Tumo meditation training (as matter of fact, the only thing she remembered before she died of apnea was the wonderful flashes of volcanic lava coming from her ears and a pink spaceship flinging laser beams that tickled her belly but did not make them laugh!)…

“Wake up, baby, it’s time to start your training!”

And it was really a nightmare. Even motionless… Lisa can feel that her dress was drenched with sweat (which now floats in the gravitational field) and her breathing seems very agitated. It is not the first time that such a situation happens, but it is precisely in these moments that she feels entirely comfortable hearing the monotonous noise of the internal engines. The universe looks now even more reddish, seen from the spaceship windows, but it probably is just an illusion caused by the light bulbs. She is ready for another day of survival training and turns to say good morning to her father, who at last seems to have given up his projects to devote his rare attention to his crazy daughter. But to her disbelief, instead, she sees a smiling gorilla with a “Welcome To Betelgeuse” sign. It would be one more of THOSE days…