#went to a thanksgiving hometown game once

[general-george-washington]

I like when all American shows depict the Sport of choice as baseball. I was on a baseball team as a kid, I get it

[thoughts-of-alaina]

It's been 9 years since my grandpa died and ten years since I last celebrated his birthday when he was alive. I hate Cinco de Mayo. Not because of the holiday but because it reminds me it's my grandpa's birthday every year. I cannot forget it's May 5. I am reminded every year. I miss him. I may have been young when he passed but it still hurt to see him go.

He passed away on Nov 27, 2014, on Thanksgiving day. Thanksgiving was his favorite holiday. He loved watching the Cowboys play on Thanksgiving and sipping on an ice-cold Dr. Pepper.

One of my favorite memories of my grandpa is when he took my brother and I to my family's hometown. We went to visit my great aunt Martha.

I only meet her once but she is such a loving person and it'll be a sad day when she passes. It'll likely be soon because of her dementia...

When my grandpa took us he still had his work truck. My brother and I loved that truck. It was massive to us when we were kids. It was hard for my mom to sell it. I lost my Princess Peach game in that truck during the road trip. It was such a good game.

I have such fond memories of that trip. Between the nice ranch, my Great Aunt Martha lived in with her old grandfather clock and her dozens of stray barnyard cats.

My baby brother was named after him. I feel bad he'll never have those experiences with our grandpa. He will only ever have our grandma. It's just the 5 of us now in my family. I'm not close to my uncles or cousins. I wouldn't even invite them to my wedding because of how distant we are.

I sometimes wish I had a big family. I love the family I have but... It would be nice to have more.

[bts-ficrecs]

Hi! Can you recommend a few Jungkook marriage fics please! Open to all genres. Thanks! ❤️

(header cr: guwoljk)

y’know this ask made me realize how rare married fics -- that aren’t drabbles -- are lol. outside of arranged marriage aus 😂

but no worries. i did find a good amount for you anon! thanks for this lovely request :”)

If anyone has any other husband!Jk fics that I didn’t include on this list, let me know!! (cause I need it too😂)

Sorry if this clogs your feed. idk why whenever I answer an ask, my “read more” is always stuck in the actual ask where i cannot edit it out at all

KEY: (☆) = arranged marriage / ( F ) = fluff / ( A ) = angst / ( S ) = smut

 

 

The Brat by obiwrites (F)

 » Summary: It was now you and him against the world. There was just one thing…

 

Bunny Bigot by obiwrites (F)

 » Summary: “Hey babe,” you call, startling the boy hunched down in a corner, “is there a reason you’re hiding in our closet?”

 » Sequel: Baby Bun & The Little Gardener

 

Child's Play by obiwrites (F)

 » Summary: Jungkook's always had a ... unique approach to parenting

 

Concealed Weapon by @gimmesumsuga (M)

 » Summary: Jungkook turns out not to be quite who you thought he was, and your reaction takes you both by surprise.

 

Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs by obiwrites (F)

 » Summary: The plot of cloudy with a chance... but with Jungkook

 » Sequel: Part 2

 

Desiderium by @jeonggukingdom (M)

 » Summary: “We’ve been at it like rabbits, how are you still so horny?”

 

Home is Where You Are by @sweetbunnykook  (F A)

 » Summary: Madness and love grows from the same root in the Jeon family.

 

I Can’t Help Myself, I Don’t Want Anyone Else by obiwrites (F)

 » Summary: A follow up piece to Just The Girl. A glimpse at the wedding, life after marriage and then some!

 » More spinoffs: Life is Good (pregnant!OC) & The Kids Are Alright (1st day of school)

 

It’s Enough by @dark-muse-iris (A)

 » Summary: Preparing dinner reminds you of all the struggles you’ve experienced in your marriage. Your husband Jungkook, ever your anchor, tries to cheer you up with gentle words.

 

Late Night Cravings by erifish14 (F)

 » Summary: Imagine having a child with Jungkook

 

Meet the Jeon-Son’s by obiwrites (F A)

 » Summary: The little girl studies your face for a long time, like she’s trying to put together the pieces of a puzzle that haven’t for a long time.

 

Stress Relief by @hobidreams (S)

 » Summary: “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” “Kissing my wife?”

 

Sweater Weather by @bangtanstanst (F)

 » Summary: When Jungkook comes back from a run and you have the audacity to laugh at his admittedly bad decision to go outside in the rain, he makes sure to take his revenge.

 

The Next by @kpopfanfictrash (F)

 » Summary: No matter the fact that this is your fourth child, nor that every other pregnancy was fine – sitting in this seat, awaiting the news is always incredibly nerve-wracking. This is the moment you determine if your baby is healthy, or not.

 

Things You Said At 1 AM by @foreverpark (F M)

 » Summary: More often than not, you spend around one to two hours in bed, watching the clock tick with the dialogue of a feel-good movie or drama keeping you company, waiting for your husband to come back from his never-ending dance practices.

 

 

After All Night by @btsracket​ (M)

» Summary: “Your mom has the baby so let’s make good use of the time.”

 

All in My Head by @fatrainbowmermaidunicorn (☆ F A)

 » Summary: Jeon Jungkook’s wife. Something you have always wanted to be. Something you have always dream of. But it's something you know won't ever come true. Until today.

 

Always and Forever by @joonglows (F)

 » Summary: From childhood friends to boyfriend and girlfriend, it’s time for an upgrade. Now, you are living a happily ever after with your dear husband, Jungkook, with three loving kids and one on it’s way.

 

Black Card by @minsprings (F A S)

 » Summary: A long night at another one of your obligatory high society functions has you desperate to relieve some stress with your husband Jungkook, who’s been apparently hiding a kink from you for some time.

 » Status: complete two-shot

 

Desperate Housewife by @kimnjss (M)

 » Summary: Bored with your husband gone all the time, you decide to take up a new hobby… Jungkook can only seem to focus on one thing when it comes to your new pastime.

 

Fierce and Delicate by @mintseesaw (F A)

 » Summary: Jungkook and y/n had been brought in two different worlds. Jungkook living an unfortunate life and y/n being controlled by her parents all her life. Despite the imperfect relationship, they completed each other like a puzzle there is. Jungkook has one promise he intends to keep: to always make you happy. In the process of fulfilling your wish he had once declined you of, he kept a secret from you. And unintentionally, he has done more damages than expected…Every action, and every decision… could be blamed by the flawed past.

 » Sequel: Felicity (F A S)

 

From What Stars Have We Fallen to Meet Each Other Here by muhammie (☆ F A)

 » Summary: Yoongi and Jungkook learn how to love in a marriage they never wanted to be in.

 » Note: yes, this is mxm

 

Holiday Blunder by obiwrites (F A)

 » Summary: The one where it’s the worst Thanksgiving in the world but your husband makes it mildly better.

 

Lumière by @taehyung-me-down (series) (☆ F A S)

 » Status: ongoing series

 » Summary: Fate has a way of bringing together two souls meant to be, but to a princess like you, soulmates are out of the question. As the sole heir of the throne, it is your duty to create a strong allegiance, one that will protect your reign. Your marriage with a prince from a neighboring kingdom was sealed from the moment you entered this world, two destinies intertwining. All you yearn for is a love that will ignite your soul. One that will have your head spinning in the clouds and your heart drowning in desire. Soulmates will meet, regardless of time, location, or circumstances, but it’s up to you. There’s one thing you must do. Seek the light, and find the love of a lifetime.

 

Mafia Arranged Marriage by @leahsockhead01 (☆ F A)

 » Summary: You knew your parents had secrets but, you never realized they went as deep as the mafia. Your father was apparently a secret Consigliere. A “close friend” to the leader of Seoul’s mafia crime group. In order to officially blend your family into the mafia, you had been elected to marry the leader’s son. Upon meeting your betrothed, you run. Then something happens… to bring you back.

 

Money, Power, Respect by @minnpd (A S)

 » Summary: You catch his eye the moment you walk through the door, low-cut dress doing its job like you knew it would.

 

Of Caresses And Promises by @ditttiii (F A S)

 » Summary: You love your husband and you know that he loves you just as much, if not more. But sometimes, you can’t help but feel like he could do better—better than you.

 

Put Your Head on My Shoulder by koorara (F A S)

 » Summary: You were worried to bring Jungkook along to your hometown and grandma has never met Jungkook, and yes, she is lovely but what if she suddenly doesn’t approve of him? That would break his heart.

 

Second Chances by @parkhabits (F A S)

 » Summary: Work. One of the most important things to him. It kept him company at night, it was all he thought about, all he put his attention to. His work had become the mistress within your marriage. Years after you left him you’re back with only one goal in mind. Get him to sign the damn divorce papers. Yet you should’ve known that your husband wouldn’t let you go that easily.

 

Smitten by @megahwn (☆ F S)

 » Summary: You live in a world where loving another is criminal. Partners are chosen by your elders to produce the best offspring and to help the economy thrive. Living in this world, you feel broken. You feel broken because you have accidentally fallen for your new husband, Jeon Jungkook.

 

Taking Chances by @neonlights92 (☆ F A S)

 » Status: complete series

 » Summary: “Jeon Jungkook is an asshole.”

 

The Pitter-Patter of the Heart by koorara (F)

 » Status: ongoing series

 » Summary: Pieces of newlywed domestic moments with Jungkook, your husband. The young Film and Literature lecturer and his wife, you, who works as a journalist of a web magazine. Both of you managing the career, the time for each other and the new house. Not to forget the cat that has been with you for years.

 » Drabble: Valentine (S)

 

The Husband She Didn't Want by MyTime2Shine (☆ A S)

 » Status: ongoing series

 » Summary: Kim Mi Cha life was a miserable one since her mother had died at a young age. By 22 she was taking care of her alcoholic father who was often abusive to her. Her only respite would be when he'd leave her to go gamble as his addiction was getting out of control. She dreamed and believed in true love despite her upbringing. Her spoiled brat of a neighbor across the way from her was Jeon Jungkook. // Jeon Jungkook's life was happy and privileged one. He lived the life of a rich and only child to both of his parents who gave him whatever he wanted. Age at 23 Jungkook had become CEO Jeon Jungkook when his parents were killed in a car accident. He thought love was for the weak. His neighbor across the way from him was the shy and timid Kim Mi Cha. // Kim Mi Cha's father ends up at a poker game with CEO Jungkook and Jungkook ends up winning the game but the prize was Kim Mi Cha?

 

The Lie Untold by @54daysormore (☆ F A S)

 » Status: complete series

 » Summary: In a world where everyone has their secrets, Jung-Kook, young and naïve, wants nothing more than his marriage to a stranger to be open and honest.  His new bride, young yet experienced, knows how many lies people tell every day, but hopes her new husband never sees through her own.

 

Untitled by @lamourche (F A)

 » Summary: “I lost our baby”

 

Your First Time by @nitaescence (F S)

 » Summary: Your child performs for the first time in the school's end of year show.

[jeontaehui]

#TAEHEE PLAYLIST 

hypnotized by aviva 

“look into my eyes, find it so appealing.”

people feel most drawn to her when she’s on stage. she doesn’t stand out just because she’s the only girl in the group, but she carries herself on stage so well you’d be hypnotized, really. from her rap and vocals, to the way she dances, she’s got you hooked one way or another. what the audience really appreciates about her is the way she’s playful on stage; she has some mischievous glint in her eyes one second, but immediately turns all cute and smiley when she wants to. 

22 by taylor swift

“everything will be alright. you keep me next to you.”

taehee may not exactly be the life of the party, but if you want a laugh or just a good time in general, she’s the one to turn to! this girl is literally a bundle of soft energy and will do anything honestly, to make a person smile or be comfortable wherever they are. a lot of nctzens consider her one of their ‘safe space idols’ because they really feel her sincerity into wanting to make people feel loved or included. 

hot girl bummer by blackbear

“but we go dumb, yeah, we go stupid. and you want me to change? fuck you!”

you could call this the ‘joanie’ side of taehee. it sounds absolutely soft when mark says this but joanie is more laidback, chill, no-filter; you name it! the perfect example of this was when 127 were in the states promoting 'superhuman’ (read: dodgers game, global citizen festival, and all the events that happened around thanksgiving), everyone went Crazy over her.

teach me how to dougie by cali swag district

“all i need is a beat that’s super bumpin’ and for you, you, you to back it up and dougie!”

at first glance, most would think taehee is the normal one in nct  — that is where they’re wrong. yes, the boys consider her as one of the intelligent and strategical members among them, but in chenle’s words, she “has her moments”. she would have the most bizarre reactions at times, and would occasionally bust into crazed dance moves unprovoked (the fans find this absolutely endearing). she once went viral for banging her head on the table quite harshly after doing aegyo (180210 vlive). 

coming home by dirty money

“i’m coming home, i’m coming home. tell the world i’m coming home.”

taehee sang this song a lot during her trainee days, especially the times when she missed her hometown so much. she’s been away from home for years. she’d spend the holidays with doyoung and his family since she didn’t have much of the means to go home. if a genie appeared right before her eyes and asked her for her first wish, she’d want to go back to australia.

[sylvie-writes]

Black Friday Shopping

Summary: Thanksgiving Dinner and Black Friday Shopping with Andy ft. your family.

Disclaimer: funny enough, I’ve wrote this back in September. 

Warnings: none. like one swear word.

As always, plz pardon any mistakes, the stories are always “proofread” but I tend to make many mistakes regardless.

Part of my Fall Writing!

Yesterday was Thanksgiving, one spent eating loads of Turkey, stuffing, green bean casserole, mac’n cheese, you name it!

Every year, you and Andy made it a tradition to go to your parents house for Thanksgiving. A time when all your aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents would flock to the (y/l/n) Household.

There wasn’t a time that Thanksgiving wasn’t looked forward to.

Your cousins brought the jokes, their parents bringing food, and your grandparents bringing the story.

It was always nice to see those distant relatives, especially now that you all had grown up, going out into the world, and started families.

Looking back, you can remember a time when you were a young girl, playing games with cousins. Now, here you all are, taking on the responsibilities that once were your parents.

Once thing you had done yesterday, was map out all the good black friday deals with your aunt.

She had all the flyers through which every family member passed around, plotting their destinations.

After all, you can’t go Black Friday Shopping without planning. 

You weren’t the kind to just shop around, no, you used Black Friday to get all the Christmas gifts. (Then again, who doesn’t?)

Unfortunately, Thanksgiving came to an end, although the fun didn’t stop there.

Since all the family was still in town for Thanksgiving weekend, you and Andy did the same, staying at your parents’ house. 

The two of you were snuggled into the full bed you had from childhood. 

That bed seemed a lot bigger when you were a kid.

But now, you had a personal furnace resting beside you. 

“Andy, honey, are you awake?”

“hmm?”

Taking the covers with him, Andy rolled over onto his back, slowly smiling as you were leaned over him, a grin on your own face.

“Well, good morning to you too Mrs. Barber.”

You wiped the mischievous smirk off his lips with a kiss.

“Just wanted to remind you that we are all meeting for breakfast in an hour and a half.”

Andy nodded and you slid out of bed. Walking to the dresser, you opened your’s and Andy’s suitcase, pulling out jeans and a grey sweater. 

First you got your shower, Andy then coming in to get his.

About an hour later, the two of you walked downstairs to be met with your parents holding mugs of coffee for you both.

Your parents love Andy like their own son. 

And for the many years you’ve been married, Andy too thinks of them as his own.

Honestly, you feel bad that your husband has no family or parents, so it really warms your heart to see him bonding with yours. 

The four of you enjoyed a few cups of coffee, just to kill some time before going to meet the rest of the family. 

Everyone had their own plans for the day, so you and Andy trailed behind in your own car.

Needless to say, breakfast was quite entertaining.

From your nieces and nephews, to many childhood memories, many laughs were shared around the table. 

Once breakfast was over, everyone bid goodbye and went their separate ways, tomorrow you’d see them all once again.

Luckily, you still knew your hometown like the back of your hand. It was really nice to leave the small town of Newton. 

You and Andy decided to hit up a nearby outlet mall, just for kicks and giggles. 

The two of you didn’t really have a plan per se. Sure, you had a few items you wished to pick up, but it wasn’t dire. You were just here to spend time with Andy. 

Every year, it was a constant battle to get Andy to spill the beans about what he wanted. He never told you and boy, was that irritating.

“Andrew Stephen Barber if you don’t tell me, for the love of God, I will divorce your ass.”

Andy knew you were joking, but he also knew that you were determined to get it out of him.

“Fine. I’ll tell you, only if you tell me what you want, ya hypocrite!”

In playful annoyance, you let out a sigh and agreed. 

To seal the deal, you put out your hand in a good ole fashion, “shake on it.”

Your husband shook your hand, but before you could pull it away, he pressed his lips to your knuckles. 

This time, your quip was silenced and Andy wore a smirk of victory on his lips.

So finally, the argument settled, the two of you exited the car. 

As you walked towards the outlet mall, Andy’s hand rested on the small of your back, a sweet gesture that you secretly loved. 

The first stop was a jewelry store, which carried Citizen Watches.

Andy had finally given in. He explained to you that his watch had broken and there was no fixing. 

At this you were delighted, not because the watch broke, but because you finally found a gift.

So, you paraded Andy around the store till he unwillingly picked once. You had to push him a bit. Curse his humbleness.

You gleefully walked out of the store, the watch peacefully resting in a neatly wrapped box, ready to be tucked away till December 25th.

This was gonna be the year you had gotten Andy the perfect gift...

“Everything is taken care of, I guess we should head to dinner then!”

Your poor attempt at deflecting Andy’s attention didn’t work, as he turned to look at you quizzically.

“Not yet Missy. I am going to get that purse you wanted.”

“Me a purse? I never said that…”

Andy, not phased at your feigned innocence, started to lightly tickle your waist with the hand that once rested on your back.

“Andy, stop! I’m gonna laugh and we are in the middle of foot traffic!”

“Nope. Not till you tell me which purse you wanted and be exact this time!”

“Fine! Fine! Follow me before I get any more weird looks.”

Your husband started laughing, slightly jogging to catch up with you, as you had power walked away from the embarrassment. 

The two of you were never ones to buy extravagant things, unless necessary.

As you see, Andy only let you buy him a watch because the one he’s had for ten years broke, and vice versa with your purse.

Upon walking into the purse store, the strong smell of leather flooded your senses, the variety of styles and colors blurring your vision.

It only took ten minutes for you to find the purse, and it made Andy uncontrollably happy to see your childlike giddiness.

As you walked out of the store, Andy’s watch bag dangled on your wrist, your own gift resting in the clutch of the man’s hand. Of course, your two free hands were interlocked while you both walked to the final destination. A nice little dinner at one of the food court restaurants. 

This year you and Andy had both finally succeeded in the gift giving department, definitely making for an interesting competition next year. 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #435

from yesterday, don’t feel like updating the answers. :^)

When you get married what do you think you’ll put most of your focus and money into? Uhhh. I really don't know... I mean maybe doing all I can do avoid debt? That's what my parents mostly argued about, and I know financial strain can really affect a couple. I never want that burden. Who in your life causes you the most stress or negative feelings? My damn self. Have you ever had a teacher that also taught your parents? No; my parents didn't grow up here. Wait! I THINK Mom had one of my college professors? I don't recall for sure, and I definitely don't remember who it was. Are you the type of person who seeks out revenge? Nah. Are there any songs that inspire you? Certainly, such as "Life Won't Wait" by Ozzy Osbourne, "Get Up" by Shinedown, and more. How do you feel about celebrities getting involved in politics? Do you think that the celebrity world and the political world should be kept apart? Not at all; everyone has the right to share their opinion and should not feel like it's necessary to censor it. Let them be people with morals and beliefs, too. I'm totally fine with them CHOOSING to be quiet about controversial subjects, but they're more than welcome to share their thoughts on any topic. What is one pro of living where you do, and what is one con? What is a pro and a con of living where you wished you lived? I guess the only real pro (and this is horrible to be the first thought) is that we're under the radar; like, not really a target for terrorism or anything, lol. I'd get kinda nervous if I lived in, like, Washington D.C. or something. We have A LOT of cons: there is NOTHING to do, we're essentially a hub for crime, the scenery is boring and bland as fuck... I could go on for a long time. I'd love to live in many areas in North America, but I'll go with Alaska, since that would absolute RULE. A strong pro would definitely be the cold climate and the sights, but it would definitely be a con to me when that relentless dark era lasts for months on end. I need the sun (from inside anyway, ha ha) sometimes, because it being dark for what, half a year?, would really damage my happiness. What is your favorite episode of your favorite TV show? Referring to Meerkat Manor, it's actually the one where Mozart dies, I think, even though it destroyed my heart. I just think the writer portrayed it as so beautifully tragic, and the clips shown were so pretty. Does having others watch you do things make you uncomfortable? What sorts of things make you extremely uncomfortable if you are watched while doing them? Are there any things that give you confidence to do if you have an audience? ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY. Do NOT watch me on the computer (especially when writing), I literally will not draw if someone's watching (inevitably besides in Art classes, I think Sara is legit the only person who's watched me draw a bit), I really don't like people watching me edit photography, I'm nooot a fan of others seeing me exercise (though I kinda have to suck that up with having a personal trainer), etc. etc. Just don't watch me do anything, lol. I don't know what actually boosts my confidence if I'm being observed. Does someone in your house speak a different language on a regular basis? No. Do you follow or care about any big sports events? Not at all. Are there any activities people normally do together that you prefer doing alone? Hm. I dunno. If you are going somewhere where you’ll have to wait for a while (i.e. a doctor’s office), do you bring something to occupy yourself? My phone, yeah. How long is your favorite song? I checked, and it's almost six minutes. Do you think you’d ever want to be “internet famous”? I'll admit I've somewhat thought about it, only because my career choices are running so dry, and I'd be able to do it alone. However, I've got noooo idea what I'd actually do, and I also don't think I could handle ridicule or anything like that for any reason. Having a spotlight on me would stress me out. Who was the main cook of your Thanksgiving meal last year? My older sister. What moment in your life have you been most scared? Probably this one occasion where Dad had to pick my sister and me up from school one day and make the 30-minute drive home. Well. He was clearly in a hellish mood because he was flying. He ran stop signs and red lights, passed people illegally... I was in the passenger's seat and absolutely convinced we were going to crash. I can barely believe we didn't. Who was the last person you slow danced with? -_- Do you prefer headphones or earbuds? Earbuds. I like how they block out external sound better, and they don't hurt my ears like headphones do. What person/people do you trust the most? My mom. Who in your life do you care about more than yourself? My parents, sisters, my nieces and nephew, Sara... A lot of people, if I'm being honest. I don't value my life as much as I should. Which wild animal would you most like to have as a pet? I am DESPERATE to rescue an opossum one day. :''''( What teacher did all the high school boys/girls have a crush on? I have no idea. Have you ever felt seriously violated? No. Do you watch American Horror Story? I adore(d) the first season; it was mine and Jason's "show." We watched most of season two as well, but I lost interest in the later half of it. I haven't really watched it since, save for the pilot episode of some season I forgot. Does your hometown have any urban legends/scary stories? Not to my knowledge. What’s the scariest nightmare you remember having? Something involving my dad that I won't speak about. Pancakes or French toast? Oh my god, French toast. That sounds delicious rn. Are there any apps you’re addicted to? Not addicted, nah. Did you have a favorite stuffed animal as a child? Yes; it was a bunny holding a multicolor polka-dotted blanket. Do you still collect stuffed animals? Hell yeah. Have you ever had eggs cooked over a campfire? No. What colors of mascara have you worn on your lashes? Just black. What font do you usually use? I mean, it depends on what I'm doing. Is it supposed to appear professional? Aesthetically pleasing? It varies too much to answer this with one font. What about font colors? Usually just black, but again, it depends on what I'm writing. Are you good at making graphics or designing layouts? Ha, no. Do you put gel or mousse in your hair? No. Sleep with just one pillow? No, I use two. I am VERY uncomfortable with just one. Ever woke up crying? Yeah, from nightmares. Do you like big dogs or small dogs better? It depends on the breed and their energy level. I don't really prefer one over the other as a general judgment. Are you going to graduate high school on time? I did. Been to the zoo lately? No, but I'd love to go. :/ Now that I'd consider myself at least a pretty decent photographer, I'd love to see what shots I could take. I LOVE photographing animals with how unpredictable they are. It's like playing the lottery; you really don't know what you're going to get, but you have the chance for seriously priceless moments. Even if we could afford the trip, though, I know I wouldn't last long whatsoever with my legs being as weak as gelatine. I know especially that there's a notable incline in the path, and I'd never make it up it. I really, really look forward to the day where I can really start feeling a difference in my body thanks to the gym. Have you ever been to Mississippi? No. What did you do for your last birthday? We went to The Cheesecake Factory. Do you like to cook? No. What is the worst thing that has happened to you in your entire life? If I'm looking at the big picture and what truly damaged my pleasure in life the most, it'd be developing depression and such intense anxiety. I've given up so much and changed so negatively because of it. Do you know when your next family reunion will be? We've never had one. My family is too spread out. What is your favorite thing to do with your significant other? I'm single, but even in a relationship, I love playing video games together. I've got multiple memories of just having a great time doing that. Where is “home” for you? Wherever Mom is. Is there an animal that creeps you out? Whale sharks, maggots and other bug larvae, centipedes, many beetles, and some other bugs. What is the name of the last band you discovered? Uhhh.. good question. I admittedly don't listen to new music a lot. I tend to stick to the stuff I know. Do you prefer group projects, or would you prefer to work alone? I would rather kick my ankle against a Razer scooter than do a group project. Have you ever been to Hooters? No. Do you have a brother? What’s his name? Yeah, Robert, but everyone calls him "Bobby." Have you ever thought that your life was so bad you wanted to give up? About a billion times. I still do sometimes. Do you have a ceiling fan located in your bedroom? Yes. Have you ever been in a lighthouse? No, but I was supposed to visit one in the fourth grade. The water was way too aggressive that day, though, so we had a change of plans and went to a closer island. Hell, it might have been the better option, because it had horses. I remember collecting seashells, too, and just watching the power of the ocean hammer at the shores. It was really pretty. Have you ever been bitten by an animal? Only playfully, like by a cat. Well wait, I think my old baby iguana may have bitten me once (he sure tried to, ha ha), but I don't remember for sure. Did it rain today? Yes. It rains pretty much every afternoon here in the late summer. What was the name of the last dog you pet? Zeke, my sister's German shepherd. He's adorable. Has your luggage ever been lost at the airport? Did you get it back? No. Do you have certain friends that you hug every time you see them? I pretty much always hug my friends when I see them. I'm a big hugger. Have you ever witnessed a tornado? No, thank the fucking Lord. Who is your favorite person to talk to when you’re down? Sara. What are you listening to right now? "Blood For Blood" by Powerwolf. Can you get over people easy? Hell no. I do NOT handle loss well AT ALL. And not just romantically. What was the last thing you carried to your room? A drink. Do you drink water that comes from your sink? Only once it's been filtered. Have you ever prank called the police? That is fucking awful. No. What’s your LEAST favorite smiley? XD looks so stupid to me I'm sorry lmao xD reigns supreme. Do you like Italian food? Yeah, more than I used to. Have you ever put red lipstick on just to make lip marks on something? No. Do you watch Shane Dawson on YouTube? Isn't his career pretty much toast now? I DID used to love his videos, though. I still occasionally watch his fiance, though, and he pops up sometimes. Regardless of everything, I still think he's funny as fuck. Would you ever spend a day to see what it’s like to be homeless? NOOOOOOO NO NO NO NO. I am TERRIFIED of living on the streets someday. I want NO idea what it's like. Is the house you’re currently living in over 50 years old? I highly doubt that. Have you ever had a yard sale? Many. What is your favorite color? Baby pink. Did you have a good day or a bad day? Today was extreeeemely dull and felt like it lasted eons. Do you know anyone that has/had cancer? I sadly know maaaaany. Have you ever read somebody else’s diary? No, that is incredibly rude. Do you enjoy going to school? I hated it from start to end. Like I have good memories, but overall, I hated school. Were you a big jump roper back in the day? OHHHH YES. I almost learned how to double-dutch, even. I could jump with two ropes, but not jump in with two. Are you a local celebrity? Definitely not. Do you eat candy daily? No. I'm already fat dude, I don't need candy. I avoid candy as best as I can. Do you get nervous with public speaking? Like you would not believe. How old were you when you got your driver's license (if you have it)? I'm 25 and still don't have it. Has someone of the opposite sex ever told you they loved you? Yes. What memory are you most afraid of losing? Meh, I don't know. A lot of what I consider my "favorite" memories I'd honestly be better off losing, probably. Who accompanied you to your first concert? My mom, younger sister, and Jason. Would you rather have tickets to see your favorite band in concert, or $100 to go shopping? TAKE ME TO THE OZZY CONCERT. What do you usually eat for breakfast? It really varies. I'd say cereal most often, probably? Do you wish you were more outgoing? Yeah. Do you know anyone who wears a hearing aid? I don't think so?

[hope-for-olicity]

Leaves of Change 9/31

Felicity Smoak returns to her small hometown of Silver Lake just in time for the Harvest Fest, she came home to get grounding and figure out what she wants to do next the last thing she expected was that she’d want to stay.

Happy Belated Birthday to my dear friend @stephswims! This one is for you! Thanks so much to @mel-loves-all for the truly stunning edit. Also full disclosure, I’m Canadian so Thanksgiving will be October.

Each chapter will follow a Fictober prompt, I can’t guarantee that I’ll post daily like last year but I will post regularly. I hope you enjoy. This and all other chapters of the story are also available on AO3.

9. “There is a certain taste to it.”

Felicity had come to the cafe early at her friend’s request. The coffee shop wasn’t even opened when Felicity arrived, she’d tapped on the door to get Caitlin to let her in.

Caitlin opened the door, greeting Felicity with a “spill girl. I need to know all,” before looking at Felicity’s outfit, sighing loudly, “those AREN’T the same clothes you had on yesterday. Where did that oversized coat come from? Are you wearing Oliver’s coat?”

Felicity smiled. “Caffeinate me and you will learn all.”

Caitlin quickly poured a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Felicity could not stop herself from sighing with joy at her first sip of coffee.

Caitlin drummed her fingers on the counter waiting for Felicity to tell her all about her date with Oliver Queen. “Well?”

“There is a certain taste to it.” Felicity sighed.

“Felicity! I know how you feel about coffee, particularly my coffee but I want the details on Oliver, you know your date?!”

“I was talking about my date.” Felicity blushed. “There is a certain taste to the most delightful kiss EVER. And if you tell him I said that I will kill you. Remember, I know where you sleep.”

“So the kissing was good?! I knew it! He looks like a good kisser and when we were in high school….but that was a long time ago and he seems to have become a one-woman man. You are the first woman he’s courted in quite some time.”  

“Courted? Caitlin, it was a date - doesn’t courting mean multiple dates, like more than one?”

“You mean you don’t think it will happen again? How did things end last night? What happened besides the kissing?” Caitlin was bubbling over with excitement.

“Well, my head is still spinning from the kissing. There was also a really cool band and the food was good. Plus, it was nice just to sit by the fire. Cozy, you know? And this,” Felicity looked down at the coat she was wearing, “is Oliver’s coat.”

“Aww, Felicity Smoak you are making my heart melt. When do you see him again?”

“I don’t know...truthfully, I keep doubting if I should be doing this at all. I’m leaving. But then he kissed me…” Felicity sighed.

“And you like him.” Caitlin prompted.

Felicity nodded. “I do and I was starting to doubt if I would like someone again. Like maybe I was broken in that regard. So liking him at least confirms I can. So that’s good…” Felicity looked away realizing she had revealed more of herself than intended.

Caitlin from behind the counter to give her friend a big hug. “It hurts me to think you thought that of yourself. I’m glad you figured out it wasn’t true. Oliver is one lucky guy.”

~~~~~

Oliver spent the morning with his mother and sister. They did a once a month brunch at his mother’s and the women in his life were showing a great deal of interest regarding his relationship with Felicity. So far, he managed to keep his answers minimal.

“Well, you are just going to have to find a way to keep her here. I know her mother would love it and she’s had her experience in the big city, it’s time to settle down.” Moria took a sip of her coffee.

“Woah, did you really just say that? It’s 2019 Mom! Felicity does not need to settle down. If she wants to focus on her career that it is her choice and I support her fully. I don’t expect her to give up her life to be with me, nor should I.” Oliver felt steam coming out of his ears. He knew he might be overreacting a little, but no, Felicity deserved whatever future she wanted. “Besides, she may never want to settle down as you call it.” Oliver stood thinking he should just get out of here.

“Okay, let’s all take a step back.” Thea, ever the peacemaker stepped in.  She turned to her mother. “Oliver is right, whether Felicity settles down or not is completely her choice.” She then turned to her brother, “your defence of her only makes me hope she stays more! I get it, you don’t want to pressure her. But the fact that you want to put her needs before your own, shows just how much you care. Mom may have phrased it poorly but she just hopes things work out with the two of you. Team Olicity all the way!”

“Thea, it was one kiss! Let’s not overreact. This could be a…” Oliver motioned with his hands.

“Fling?” Thea finished for him.

Oliver nodded.

“Maybe for her but THIS is not a fling for you. Oliver, I know you. I’ve seen you with your flings, remember. Felicity Smoak is not a fling for you. You have heart eyes!!”

“Okay, I appreciate your support,” Oliver looked at his mother and sister, “but I need you to back off. Felicity and I went on one sort of date. The last thing I want to do is scare her off before she agrees to a second. If you leave me alone, I promise I will update you on anything I think you need to know.” Oliver felt like he was being reasonable. “Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Thea nodded, “but..”

Oliver cut her off, “no buts, she two should simply agree.”

“Agreed.” Moria nodded. “Oliver, I really am happy for you. Let me know if you want me to help in any way.”

“Thank you but it won’t be necessary. Now I need to go home and do some work.” Oliver began walking to do the door.

“Go Jets!” Thea yelled out behind him. They all knew there would be some football watching as well.

~~~~~

Felicity arrived home from her chat with Caitlin to face her mother. She could see her mother also wanted an update by the way she bounced to greet her when she walked in the door.

“I promise to fill you in, I’m just starving.”

“Good, I just popped a pizza into the oven. I figured we could eat it while we watched the game.” Donna smiled as she took Felicity’s coat. “Oliver’s?”

“Yes, I don’t have a warm coat here.” Felicity walked away from her mother before facing any more questions.

The timer went off as Felicity entered the kitchen/living area of her mother’s place. 

“I’ll get that hun, you just get us set up with pillows and blankets. I have high hopes for our Jets today.”

Felicity chuckled. “You always have high hopes, Mom. But today might be our day.”  Watching football games with her Mom was something she missed when she moved away. By living in New York she was able to send home lots of Jets gear.  They usually texted during the games when she lived away but now, they were watching them together.

Felicity set up their comfy area. “I’ll grab us some Diet Cokes and we are ready for kick-off.”

They had just settled in, the Jets won the coin toss and deferred to the second half. They were kicking off the ball when her mother turned to her. “So, were the kisses good enough to stay?”

“Mom! It was one night!”

“I know but you can’t blame a mother for hoping.”

What Felicity didn’t say was even without the kisses she couldn’t deny that she starting to look for a reason to stay.

Thanks so much for reading! Tagging a few people. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged.

@memcjo @stephswims @it-was-a-red-heeler @cruzrogue @mel-loves-all @tdgal1 @vaelisamaza @onceuponarrow @msbeccieboo @lucyyh @julieofrandomfandoms @morganashimi83

[timelock97]

Game Changer

Chapter Two: A New Game, A New Discovery

Word Count: 3155 

Warnings:  Language

_________________________________________

The summer before the new semester was long, and I missed Leon a lot. Leon was busy in Galar, trying to figure out why I wasn't even able to come in the first place, as well as keeping himself in shape for the season. On the other hand, I spent the summer working my tail feathers off, and on the occasion spent some much needed time with friends.

My group of friends from high school had always stayed close, even though we went to different schools. We spent countless hours talking about new games and shows that were out, but also throwing in stories from the year: failed flirting attempts, horrible teachers, funny all-nighters, you name it. However, one of the hot topics we talked about, or at least three out of four talked about, were the new Pokemon games. Ginny, Aaron, and I had spent a majority of the summer speculating the new game and they attempted to fill me in on what I had missed from the past few games.

"Wait, how much have you actually missed," Aaron had asked as he steered the boat to head back to the house to pick up Max to continue our lazy wandering and conversing.

I stretch my arms over the back of my seat, Ginny giggling as I make a face in thought, "Uh, the last game I played I had Piplup as my starter-"

"So generation four." Ginny concludes, making Aaron laugh.

"I'm really behind." I giggle, leaning back against the seat, soaking in the sun.

"Oh yeah, definitely behind. I think a crash course is needed."

"I think you'll enjoy it more going in blind." Ginny giggles, moving to sit next to me. "Besides, it'll be fun either way to see what you think."

"The game cannot get here fast enough!" I cheer excitedly, ready to explore the newest region on my new console.

~

Leon sighs into the receiver. "Sorry it didn't work out for this summer, love."

I shift my phone between my ear and my shoulder as I gather my school supplies from the backseat, I had one more week before school started back up and I was already feeling restless. "Quit apologizing, Lee. It's not your fault there is some weird process for me to get approved to come to Galar. You wouldn't have known. Besides, they were happy I was able to come back and work for the summer." They being an old diner that can't seem to hold servers. I was used to the workload and the usual people that came in, which meant better tips. "How was your season?"

"Good as always, Raihan gave me a run for my money, but still ended up on top. Hop is just happy to have me home."

"Well they are probably even happier knowing you don't need to come back here." I walk over to the front door and shove my key in the lock and slip inside.

"Yeah, the Chairman has been having me running ragged; doing errands and practicing."

"Hopefully nothing too hard," I smile as I set my bag down on the floor.

"Nothing I can't handle." His voice is teasing, and it makes me miss him more. I don't say anything as I unpack my stuff, just hum into the phone. "Are you excited for school?"

I laugh, shaking my head, "More like already ready for break. You are coming for Thanksgiving, right?"

"Already have it on my calendar." He hums, making me smile. "You're going to do amazing this year, you know that? You always amaze me with how much you know."

A blush warms my cheeks, damn do I miss this boy. "And you are gonna do amazing things in Galar. Just remember to take some time for yourself too, okay?"

I hear his sigh as I sit on a kitchen chair. "I'll try my love. I will try." There is a long pause, and for a second I think he hung up until, "I really miss you."

"I miss you too, Lee. November, and then you will be here."

"Doesn't make the waiting any easier."

"I know, but keeping yourself busy will ease it a little." I turn toward my stuff before sighing. "As much as I want to stay on the phone with you, handsome, I really need to study for that test I have next week."

He chuckles, his voice soft. "I know, I'll call you tomorrow. That okay?"

"Sounds perfect." I smile, "I love you, Leon."

"I love you too, my love."

~

I practically throw my stuff onto the ground as I enter the house, new game already in hand. Aiden, my little brother, follows in behind me complaining about school and how some of his friends were being annoying. My mom lifts her head from what she is completing on her laptop, giving us a lopsided smile. "You look excited, and you look like you need to go take a nap."

Aiden groans again before placing his face into her shoulder to complain in muttered tones as I move about the room to get my things together.

"I am headed to Ginny's, I don't expect to be home until about nine or ten-"

"Don't forget you have a dog, (Y/N)-"

"I will be home by nine then, and no worries I know," I giggle, rubbing Buster's head, the little Australian Shepard pup is bouncing at my feet as I slip my shoes and coat back on. "Sorry, bud. Go ask Aid, he will probably love to take you outside to run."

Aiden happily agrees as I wave one last time to my mom before slipping back outside. The drive is quick thanks to Ginny only living outside the neighborhood. I pull into her driveway and park in my usual spot, practically running to the door.

I hear her dog bark as I make it onto the porch, "Are you excited?!" Ginny's voice calls from behind her front door. She opens it quickly, pushing her dog aside as I enter.

"You know it!" I call back, stepping inside, my hand falling onto her chocolate labs head to keep him from slipping out the door. "Afternoon, Theo." I coo as I scratch under his chin before turning toward my best friend and pulling her into a hug. "How far are you?"

"Not too far, I've just been exploring." Ginny smiles as she motions me to follow her. The two of us clamber down the stairs, talking quietly about school and her job. Once settled on the couch she grabs her switch from where it sits on the floor plugged in.

I finally get to take a break, no school, no classmates, no responsibilities besides playing the game.I pop out the game already inside the console and replace it with the new game. "Here we go, here we go, here we go!" I sing, making Ginny laugh.

I turned up the volume and let the game start. As it starts through the main intro I decided to read along aloud, simply to get a laugh out of my best friend, making comments all the way. Until I come across the name of the region,"Galar?"

"Yeah, that's the region this game." Ginny states nonchalantly, eyes never leaving her switch.

I nod, eyes reading along. I let out a squeal, "Look at the elephant!"

"I know! I don't know what it is, but I want it!" Ginny giggles back.

"My name is Rose, and it is a pleasure to be here."

"Rose?" I whisper, no it's just a coincidence on the name and place, it's not the place Leon had been describing the past four years

"Now turn your gaze to the Galar region's greatest Pokemon Trainer, your undefeated champion..."

"It's time for Champion Leon's exhibition match!"

My eyes watch as the screen lights up, as it brings the game's champion into view and my breath hitches, making Ginny look up at me.

"What's wrong?"

I shake my head and stare wordlessly as the battle begins, Charizard dynamaxes and the shield logo appears on the screen. It quickly switching over to the protagonist, showing off "Wooloo?"

"Isn't wooloo adorable?" Ginny smiles, but she can see the confusion on my face. "You good?"

"Yeah, yeah, I think." I mutter as I get into the game. As the game continues, my heart gets a little tighter. Hop arriving at the protagonist's house, telling her to meet him at his, taking the main character to meet his brother at the train station. "God, Hop is a little shit," I giggle, Ginny agreeing with me with a laugh. "Like how long have I been living next to him and I haven't met his brother once? Aren't we like the best of friends?" Finally I have to stop, saving after choosing Scorbunny and setting my switch down into my lap. "Ginny?"

"Yeah?" She doesn't even look up.

I go to the screen shots on my switch and pull up a picture of Lee, my Lee, on my phone. "Please tell me I'm imagining things."

Ginny sets down her switch before shifting closer to me. She takes the phone from my hand before looking back at my switch. I watch as her eyes widen before she shakes her head. "Okay, this just has to be a coincidence." She raises her head to look at me, "They just look really similar-"

"That's what I thought, except Lee's boss is Chairman Rose, he lives in Galar which is an island off of the United Kingdom, his little brother's name is Hop-"

"(Y/N)." Ginny lets out a nervous giggle, but I continue.

"Ginny, he has even described animals for me to draw and one of them I just saw on screen." I can feel a headache coming on, and my anxiety is starting to settle in. "He has described his whole home and hometown to me and my character just ran through it." I place my head in my hands, putting pressure on the places that are aching.

She looks between the photos, she knows exactly what I am talking about. She has heard all about what Lee has told me, and seen the pictures in my sketchbook. She takes a breath, "Look, you can't prove anything right now. If he knows that this is a huge coincidence, he would tell you."

"I don't know, Ginny..."

"You have to have faith in him, you know how he is. He will tell you-"

"If he even knows." I whisper, lifting my head.

She nods, "And if he doesn't, then you will just have to bring it up. Everything will work out." She nudges my side, "C'mon, let's turn on YouTube for a bit then we can try and get back to the game."

~

I sit in my room that evening, I didn't go much further in the game even though I wanted to. My eyes linger on my cell phone, text messages open to Leon's messages.

_________________________________________

Lee Lee

I'll be at work til late, but I just want to tell you goodnight and that I love you.

Hope your day was good, gorgeous

_________________________________________

He could just be someone who works for the games and didn't tell me? But then why did he need a business degree, especially here? I rub my forehead as my dog crawls over to me and places his head on my lap, a sign that I should really be headed to bed. But my mind is reeling, and sleep probably wasn't going to happen for another few hours. Tonight would be a night I would lose sleep over.

I wake the next morning by Buster pressing his cold nose into my cheek. I sigh as I rub a hand through his fur before sitting up in bed and seeing Leon had texted me.

_________________________________________

Lee Lee

Good morning, my love.

I hope you didn't stay up too late playing your game 😉

I'll call you later today after I see Hop back home

(He has been asking when you are coming to visit)

I love you!

_________________________________________

My fingers move across the screen in habit, telling him good morning as well, but adding that I had a lot of homework this weekend and would need to be working and that I'd call him later in the week. I slipped in to enjoy spending time with his family and to tell Hop that I was excited to meet him when I finally made it out there.

I rolled out of bed and followed the pup out into the kitchen before letting him out into the backyard to do his business. I sigh as I lean in the doorway, watching him prance about the backyard happily. I let out a low whistle, "Buster, c'mon baby it's cold."

Buster comes barreling over, happily bouncing about my feet as I walk back into the house. Time to get to studying.

After a few hours, my mom pops her head into the office to see me hard at work on a presentation that was due that Monday. "Hey, honey?"

I put up a hand to tell her one minute before I finish the sentence I was working on. I gently push away from the desk to look at her. "Sup?"

She shakes her head, laughing, "You good?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" I ask, standing to walk past her and get a drink from the fridge.

She's quiet as she follows me slightly. "You and Lee okay?" She sees me visibly stiffen, "Did you two have a fight?"

I sigh, setting the juice container on the counter, "No, we didn't have a fight; I think it's the long distance getting to me. I mean, he keeps in contact and we skype, but it's not the same as being in person you know?"

She nods, "I can understand that." She shifts to the side and watches me for a minute while I pour my juice. "Did he tell you when he was going to fly out?"

"No, he just said before Thanksgiving." I sigh, replacing the juice in the fridge and chugging down the amount in my glass. "I can text him and ask though."

My mom shakes her head, "No, it's okay. Ask him later, you don't have to do it now."

I look over at her, and a part of me tells me that she is hiding something, but I shake it off and rinse the glass out before returning to the office. Just have to finish this presentation.

Thanksgiving could not come any faster. Between practicals, exams, and paper presentations my classmates and I had finally hit our wall. My hands were basically hovering over the keyboard as I skimmed over the material. God, I needed a break.

The sound of the back door opening catches my attention, ears perking up over the music playing from my laptop. After a minute, I hear my mom talking to my dad making me nod as I go back to my typing. Buster barking excitedly doesn't fade as I make the last bullet point to my study guide before I jump back over what I needed to look at for the practical for Tuesday, and the chapters due for Monday.

The door opening causes me to pause my typing to rub my forehead. "What?" I ask, it comes out more harsh then I expect, but between school and Leon suddenly being MIA, my nerves are a little shot. Whomever walked in makes no sound, and before I can ask what they want again a pair of hands clasp around my shoulders and massage the muscles there. A soft groan of satisfaction leaves my lips as I tilt my head to the side, their hands moving with me to massage at the base of my neck.

"You know, if you laid on the bed I could reach a lot more." My head whips around to meet golden honey eyes. Leon laughs before cupping my cheek, "Don't turn too fast love, you'll get whiplash."

I manage to let out a soft "move" before I spin around and stand from the chair, throwing my arms around his neck just as he leans down to pull me in and lifting me so that I was just that much closer. Emotions erupt as a small sob leaves my lips, arms tightening around his neck as I bury my face into his neck.

"I got you, love, I got you." Leon coos, shushing me as he sits on the couch, his hand cupping the back of my head to keep me close.

The two of us sit silently, Lee rocking me softly until my sobs turn into sniffles. I eventually move so my face is away from his neck, forehead pressing against his while I catch my breath. "Sorry, the past two weeks have been shit."

"Should'a brought you a hot cocoa then huh?" He teases, making me laugh as I press a soft kiss to his lips, his curling into a smile as he attempts to hold me there, only to let out a small groan when I pull away.

"I don't think you want me kissing you until I have washed my face." I tease, motioning to my blotchy, snotty face as I untangle myself from him and stand. Lee doesn't let me get very far, following me into the bathroom so I can do just that. Once that is done, Lee doesn't waste time grabbing my face between his hands and kissing me deeply. I sigh against his mouth until someone clears their throat. We pull apart to see Aiden standing in the doorway.

"Can you not make out in the bathroom? Thanks." He groans before walking away.

Leon chuckles behind me, "You know, I think he and Hop would get along pretty well."

I nod before turning and kissing Leon's cheek again. He smiles at me, hand cupping my cheek again before he presses his forehead to mine, my body relaxing at the contact. But my mind goes back to that game, and Leon's face flickering and talking with the characters. "Hey, Lee?"

His eyes flicker up to mine, "Yes, baby?"

My mouth opens and closes again, words not wanting to come out. I have to talk to him about it.

"(Y/N), what's wrong?" He whispers bringing his other hand to my other cheek.

Later, we'll talk later. I shake my head, "Lost it, sorry. Brain's kinda fried." I force out a giggle.

I can tell he sees right through the excuse, but he nods anyways. "Okay," he whispers before kissing the tip of my nose making me laugh. "C'mon, let's not stand in the bathroom. I'll help you finish studying then we can relax, that work?"

I nod, "Sounds perfect." Lee pulls away and grabs my hand before walking out of the bathroom with me in tow. Just enjoy the quiet before the storm hits.

_________________________________________

A/N: Goooooood day! IDK what time it is for everyone but I’ve decided that Monday’s and Thursday’s I will be posting new chapters to this story! I am really excited for you all to see what is to come! Let me know if you wanna be tagged for the next installment of Game Changer! ~CG

Masterlist

[shes-soparticular]

Darling, So it Goes

You take Shawn home for an American Thanksgiving. Your childhood bedroom gets more than it bargained for.

Warning(s): Heavy Smut.

A/N: A little fluff, a little smut. SlightlyOlder!Reader.

Words: 4440

It took months of begging, but you finally succumbed to your mother’s plea to make a trip home for Thanksgiving. You hadn’t been back to your hometown since your move to Toronto at the beginning of the year and you had to admit the nostalgia of an old-fashioned American holiday had gotten the best of you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see your family, it was your apprehension about bringing your boyfriend home. They’d met Shawn before, sure, but always on your terms and while on their best behavior. You knew the atmosphere wouldn’t be quite the same once everyone was wine drunk around the dinner table, delving into political arguments and dredging up stories of your youthful fuckups. Not to mention, you’d never really brought anyone home before despite being well into your mid-twenties. There was no telling what kind of awkward, prying questions your mom might ask, what offensive jokes your dad would inflict, or the droning on of your older brother and dead stares from your sister-in-law. You chastised yourself internally for thinking of your family so negatively, but you just really, REALLY needed this holiday to go off without a hitch. Mostly for your own sanity. You knew deep down you had nothing to worry about – Shawn’s Canadian manners would dazzle everyone and he’d be a good sport about their neurotic behavior. But you still held your breath all the way through the pumpkin pie, until you could finally sneak off to your childhood bedroom with Shawn in tow.

You’d tried your hardest to book a hotel room for the weekend but after receiving the catholic guilt trip of the century from your mother, you begrudgingly agreed to stay with them. As you flipped on the light, you instantly felt regret churning in your stomach along with the turkey. The bright lavender walls, the stuffed animals arranged meticulously on your canopy bed, the numerous photos of every awkward stage you ever went through tacked to the walls. Jesus, the plastic glow in the dark stars were even still stuck to the ceiling after twenty plus years. Without needing to look at him, you already knew Shawn had the biggest smirk on his face. He was going to eat this up.

“So…this is…words escape me.” He brushes past you to pick up a Care Bear off your bed, taunting you with it. ShareBear looked so strange in Shawn’s tattooed grip, an odd juxtaposition of two things that brought you the most comfort. Granted, ShareBear really didn’t succeed at keeping you warm late at night.

“Give me that,” You say with a huff, reaching out to wrangle the bear away from him, tossing it unceremoniously on the floor. Throwing yourself on to your bed, you grimace at the squeaking of the springs. This was certainly mid-western “roughing it” at its most cliché. At some point you had become accustomed to the plush beds and obscenely high thread counts of high-end hotels. You’d become so spoiled that just the sight of your pill-y Beauty and the Beast sheets and bleach stained bath towels made you cringe. It also crossed your mind that you DEFINITELY weren’t sleeping in Disney sheets in high school and that your mother specifically chose those as a very rude, but very creative cockblocking measure. While you got to work kicking all of your stuffed animals off the bed, Shawn wandered about your room on his own. Quietly studying the photos of your middle school birthday parties, the saved movie stubs and concert tickets still stuck to your mirror, the participation trophies from JV volleyball. Suddenly, you felt a little vulnerable. When Shawn was in high school, he was already playing stadium tours with the likes of Taylor Swift. In your high school days, you were mostly consumed with binge watching Gossip Girl and eating raw cookie dough with your girlfriends. You had an exceedingly mediocre high school career and it felt glaringly evident as you saw your bedroom through Shawn’s eyes. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

“Knowing you, it’s not what I was expecting. You were so…innocent.” He turns so that you can see his bemused expression. “I mean who is this girl? I don’t think I know her.”

“Open the closet. Back right corner. Cardboard box marked “books”.” You point him in the right direction, already grinning to yourself knowing what he’ll find there. Shawn quickly unearths the box, carrying it to your bed to dump out the contents. As you expected, a half empty bottle of Sailor Jerry’s rolls out, along with several ancient, unsmoked joints, and a few other odds and ends you’d stashed away. While you reach for one of the joints, his fingers snatch something else out of the pile.

“Is this a cherry flavored condom? You hate cherry.” If he looked bemused before, he looks downright delighted now.

“Hence it being in the pile, my love. Who in the world wants a dick to taste like cough medicine?” You hop off the bed, a joint and matchbook in hand, headed for your window. “All of the strawberry ones, on the other hand, are long gone.”

His eyebrows raise comically high and you can only imagine what he’s picturing in that moment. You know you shouldn’t be leading him to believe you were some unapologetic slut in high school, considering that’s fairly far from the truth, but messing with his head is your all-time favorite hobby. Considering there’s nothing else to do with the rest of the night, he won’t be getting a break from your mind games. Lighting up the joint, you take a long, satisfying drag, blowing the smoke out into the black night sky. You pass it to him while he continues to absent mindedly tour your room like it’s an ancient antiquities gallery at the Met.

“Who’s this loser?” You glance over to see Shawn holding a polaroid of you and a short-lived high school boyfriend. A guy you’re pretty sure still works the concession stand at the local movie theater and never stopped scamming on underage chicks.

“Ohhhh, Chad, what a blast from the past.” You snatch the photo from his hand, giving it a faux adoring look. “He fingerbanged me in a McDonald’s parking lot, it was the worst.”

“You’re telling me you were a freak even back then, eh?” His smirk is growing by the second, pulling open your underwear drawer to peruse all of the embarrassing cotton panties plastered with Victoria’s Secret Pink logos and phrases. The way the joint is dangling from his lips causes a familiar stir between your legs, but you quickly remind yourself that your parents room is right across the hall.

“It was prom. Everyone gets romantic on prom night.” You shrug your shoulders with an eyeroll, plucking the joint from his lips. Looking him in the eyes while you inhale, you rise on to your tip toes and pull his face towards yours to bridge the absurd height difference. Holding the smoke in your mouth momentarily, you press your lips to his softly, letting the smoke drift from your tongue to his. Shawn groans into your mouth, deepening the kiss and casually backing you towards your double bed. But the night is young and you wriggle out of his grasp before your back can hit those Beauty and the Beast sheets. “A guy pays for your limo, you throw him a fingerbang.”

“I’ve been in several limos with you and there have been zero parking lot fingerbangs.” He looks genuinely disappointed, as if you haven’t straight up fucked him in one of said limos. However, his expression changes as he holds up a pair of green panties with the words “Irish Boys Only” written across the ass. “Oh really? I beg to differ.” Balling them up in his hands, he tosses them overhand into the small waste basket across the room. “That’s where those belong.”

“Hey! I could have worn those to Niall’s next show.” You’re already laughing before you can finish the sentence, knowing you’re playing with fire by making such a statement. Shawn pretends not to hear you, but conveniently steps over to the waste basket to ash the spent joint over the discarded panties. Throwing you a heated glance in the process, eyes narrowed but still bright. He turns his attention back to your closet, thumbing through all of the old clothes that still hadn’t made it to Goodwill. When his fingers stop on a mass of pale pink tulle, you pray he’ll keep moving right along. Instead, he hands the joint back to you once more and reaches in to liberate the dress from the depths of your closet. You swear that monstrosity hasn’t seen the light of day since that McDonald’s parking lot.

“Oh god, I DARE you to put this on.” A deep chuckle escapes him, thanks in part to the weed, and he reaches out to grab your hip. “I can’t explain it, but I need to see you in this dress. It just. I can’t. Look at this thing!” No, you don’t know what you were thinking when you bought that dress. The strapless, fitted bodice has far, far too many rhinestones and the tulle skirt is obnoxiously large. It almost has a “Cinderella dressed by a Drag Queen” vibe and your cheeks go a little red just looking at it. Normally you’d refuse, but you’re just high enough, just content enough, that you’re willing to put on that hideous dress just to let your boyfriend have a laugh. He made it through an American Thanksgiving with your family, so if this is the least you can do to make his night, it’s worth it.

“Fine.” You throw him a pout as a last-ditch effort, but he stands firm. As the slightest bit of vengeance, you take your time peeling off your sweater and shimmying out of your jeans. “You’re going to have to help me with this demon, you know.” You reach out to unzip the back of the dress and then stand up straight in just your bra and panties, arms held up in the air, motioning for him to lower the dress on top of you. He obliges, despite a bit of difficulty, and your arms and head eventually clear the mess of tulle. You pull the bodice in place, adjusting your breasts into the right placement and then turn around. “Zip me up, please.” His fingertips are tentative against the zipper, his thumb brushing over the exposed skin at the small of your back and sending shivers up your spine. It seems to take an achingly long time, but he finally drags the zipper all the way up, hands dropping to your waist to slowly turn you around.

              “Let me see you, baby.” You’re not sure exactly how or why, but the energy in the room has markedly changed. It’s like by osmosis this dress delivered all of the nervous, tentative feelings you associated with being a teenage girl. Despite the yards of fabric, you felt naked under his gaze. His deep brown eyes traveled the length of you, his lips parted ever so slightly. Clearly, you’re not the only one being oddly affected by this dress. “You look…damn, I don’t know. This is making me weirdly soft?” He runs a hand through his hair, blowing out a deep breath as if you’re standing in front of him clad in dirty French lingerie rather than a Quinceañera reject. “Come here.” His strong hands pull you against him, moving up your sides and lifting your arms to bring them up over his shoulders. “Dance with me?”

              You’re about to comment on the fact that there’s no music and maybe move to grab your phone and find a song, but before you can give it a moment’s thought, his hands are back on your waist, his forehead pressed against yours. Ever so softly, he starts humming the familiar tune of Can’t Help Falling in Love, knowing full well what that song does to you. Your body just about melts into him as he starts singing the words into your ear, the two of you swaying in the middle of your lavender walled bedroom. All at once your heart feels as though it’s going to burst out of your chest, your rib cage incapable of suppressing the unnatural amount of love you have for this man. You must have been a saint in a past life, there’s no other way of explaining how you could be so fucking lucky. It’s nearly impossible for you to let him finish the song, your lips making a trail across his jaw before you finally rest your head in the crook of his neck. You would have never pictured this moment, would have never considered doing anything with that dress other than burning it, but here you are. And you swear you’ve never been more in love.

              As he finishes the song, you can’t decide whether you’re desperate to hear more of that beautiful voice or desperate to have his lips on yours. Instead, you leave it up to him to decide and aren’t entirely shocked when his lips meet yours. His kiss is balanced between tenderness and urgency, deeply reminiscent of the first kiss you two shared what feels like a lifetime ago. That’s what’s so surreal about standing in this bedroom, in this dress, talking about a time before Shawn. At the risk of sounding melodramatic, it’s hard for you to feel connected to a time in your life before he was a part of it. You certainly weren’t the type of woman to judge your entire existence by a man, but you could at least admit to yourself (and to the entire world, if they really wanted to know) that you weren’t fully yourself until you had him by your side. The way he’s cradling you in his arms now, you know the feeling is mutual. Barely breaking the kiss, he sighs against your lips, “You really do look gorgeous in this dress.” Your cheeks blush a deep red, as if you’re hearing this from your middle school crush rather than a man that’s seen every inch of your body a few thousand times. “And you know what else?”

You finally pull away to look up into his eyes, that signature curl falling forward onto his forehead. “Hmmm?”

He raises his hands to tuck your hair behind your ears, thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “You deserved to have been made love to that night.” You don’t break your gaze, but you’re pretty fucking surprised your knees haven’t totally given out. It’s hard to believe that these words, these delicate touches, are coming from the same man that made you listen to him burp the alphabet the day before and sometimes insisted on doggy style so he could watch the Maple Leafs highlights. You almost don’t notice one hand dropping from your face to linger on the zipper to your dress. “May I?”

              You’re absolutely speechless, so a nod must suffice. He unzips the dress almost as slowly as he’d zipped it up not long before, taking his time, making you wait. As soon as the dress has fallen into a pink pool at your feet, he picks you up in one fell swoop, laying you gently on the bed that had been covered in stuffed animals not long before. He’s not far behind, hovering over you carefully, the springs of your bed whining in protest at the combined weight of your bodies. You ignore the sound and pull his face to yours anyways, alternating between slow, lingering kisses and the needier, hungrier variety. Oddly, as though you really have regressed to being teenaged again, you could absolutely settle for just an all-night makeout session. There’s something so intoxicating about the taste of his mouth and the feeling of his solid chest pressing against yours, you just never want that feeling to end. Of course, the fire between your legs vehemently disagrees with that sentiment, aching to be touched and filled in every possible way. As always, he manages to read your body (i.e. the way your hips keep arching into his seeking friction) and he responds in kind. His lips start making their descent down your throat, grazing across your collarbone, only stopping briefly at the top of the cups of your bra to rid you of the offending garment. Just as he’s about to take a nipple into his mouth, you stop him. “Your shirt. Can you take it off?” You’re itching for skin to skin contact, the pleading tone evident in your voice. Sitting up briefly, he pulls the henley over his head, your eyes immediately glued to his abs as they appear before you. Instinctively, your right hand slips down your stomach to touch yourself at the sight of him, but he catches your hand at the last possible second.

“Let me take care of you, honey,” He chuckles, knowing all too well how impatient you get. Kissing the back of your hand, he pins it above your head, resuming his pathway down your body. The warmth of his tongue encases your nipple, followed by the grazing of his teeth. It elicits a moan out of you, loud enough that you can barely hear his hushed voice. “Babe, you can’t be loud.” There’s a severity in his voice but you can see the smile pulling at the corner of his lips. He lives to drive you wild, and even if he doesn’t want to clue your family in on what he’s doing to you, he can’t help but be satisfied with drawing those noises out of you. Seemingly in direct opposition to his warning, his fingers find their way under your panties, pulling them aside and running up and down your already slick folds and teasing your clit. It’s nearly impossible for you to keep your mouth shut, but somehow you manage, keeping it to a quiet gasp as his first finger enters you. You’re already wondering how the hell you’re going to stay quiet as his finger curls upwards inside of you, when you feel his tongue begin to trace your clit, adding insult to injury. Gritting your teeth, you swear you can feel him smiling against your pussy, already smug with how you’re coming undone before he’s really gotten started. You’re about to protest when he removes his finger, but he quickly replaces it with two, pumping them into you slowly, stretching you in preparation of what’s to come. His mouth continues its assault on your clit, alternating between gentle licks and sucking until your eyes roll back in your head. You’ve never talked about it, but you’re fairly certain he has a habit of tracing his name on your clit. His full name. Over and over. It isn’t long before you can feel your orgasm building, your throat almost burning as you try to stifle your moans. He holds your hips to the bed, his biceps bulging with the effort to keep your bucking at bay. While he may be able to squat 300lbs, he’s almost no match for your hips when his tongue is ravaging your clit that way. When it’s clear you can’t hold on any longer, he presses his fingers against that sacred place inside of you and ruthlessly sucks your clit, hard, until you come so hard your legs spasm and you have to bury your face into your pillow to stop from screaming out. Deviously, he flattens his tongue with one last lick as you start to come back down, causing a shudder to run through your entire body. Chest heaving, you glance down at him, shaking your head. “You’re such an asshole.” But the enormous, satisfied grin on your face contradicts your admonishment. “Get up here.” You crook your finger in a come-hither motion, already pulling at his arms to coax him back up your body. Ready to roll him over so that you can return the favor, he stops and pins your hands behind your head once more.

“You know how much I love that smart mouth of yours, but right now? I’m dying to be inside you.” Part of you wants to argue, wants the opportunity to showcase your own oral talents, but you can’t exactly deny that you’re equally as anxious to have him buried deep in your core. So instead, you nod a little too enthusiastically and frantically reach for his jeans. It’s a bit difficult to get rid of them, considering he’s already grinding into you and not allowing you much room to work with, but somehow you’re able to free him from all clothing. He manages to kick off his jeans and Calvins on to the pile of your discarded stuffed animals, quickly pulling your panties down to join them. Once again, you shamefully feel like a horny teenager, unable to keep your hormones in check. Surprisingly, he manages the restraint to slow down for a moment, one hand coming up to rest under your head. He gives you a long look, as though he’s trying to memorize your face in that moment, the placement of every freckle, the shape of your swollen lips, the dazed, post-orgasm look in your eyes. Pressing his forehead against yours, your lips barely brush. “I’m so in love with you. In case you didn’t know.” As you lift your chin to kiss him, you feel the slow, satisfying burn of him entering you. You have to swallow a moan as he inches his way inside, stopping only when he’d bottomed out. He stills for a moment, allowing you to adjust, before setting a slow and steady pace.

Raising your legs to wrap around him, you let one hand tangle in his hair while whispering sweet words of admiration and encouragement in his ear. “God, you make me feel so good. So, so, so good.” These words urge him to increase his pace ever so slightly, but your childhood bed immediately objects, squeaking with all of its might. He freezes on top of you, using every ounce of strength not to return right back to his thrusts. “It’s okay, it’s okay. We just have to go slow.” He takes a deep breath and nods in agreement, returning to his former pace, trying to be as slow and deliberate as he can to appease your mattress. Several minutes pass as you grind into one another carefully, the friction still immensely gratifying. Regardless, you need more, you need to feel him pounding into you the way only he can. “Fuck this. Carpet?”

“Oh god, thank you,” He sighs in relief, picking you up without pulling out of you. Placing you carefully on the carpeted floor, he instantly plunges into you with the speed you’re both craving. Not expecting this, you cry out his name without thinking. This time he doesn’t stop his movements, but he does bring up a hand to cover your mouth. “If you do that, it defeats the purpose of us being on the floor.” Nevertheless, he thrusts directly into your g spot, knowing full well you’re not going to be able to keep your composure when he does that. Rather than letting out another cry, you stop yourself by sinking your teeth right into the swallow tattoo on the hand covering your mouth. Not hard enough to draw blood or leave a lasting mark, just enough to teach him a lesson. However, the joke is on you as the bite only spurs him on, his hips driving into yours with renewed energy.

Incidentally, you’ve reached a point of such reckless abandon that you don’t care who hears you. You couldn’t care less whether your screams woke up the entire family, or the entire neighborhood for that matter. Your parents could have easily let you stay in a hotel as you’d begged to. So truthfully, they were getting what they bargained for. What did they expect from their adult daughter and her fucking underwear model boyfriend? There was no way a noisy mattress and Beauty and the Beast sheets were ever going to stop you two from finding an opportunity to bang. Chanting Shawn’s name, quietly at first but growing louder, you dig your nails into his back hoping that will somehow stop you from full on shouting. You can tell by the way the veins in his biceps are pulsing and the set of his jaw that he’s not going to be able to hold out much longer. Needing release for both of you, he brings his thumb to your clit, massaging it in quick circles until he feels the telltale sign of your orgasm as your walls contract violently around him. That’s more than enough to bring his release, as your name falls from his lips with one long moan as he fills you. Weak, he lets himself collapse on top of you, still twitching inside of you as your sweaty chests heave together, desperate for air. Once you’ve both had a chance to breathe, you pull him in for a long, appreciative kiss. “I’m so in love with you too, in case you didn’t know.” He smiles against your lips, returning the kiss until you both hear someone shutting the bathroom door down the hallway.

“I’m not going to be invited back after this, am I?” He laughs quietly, reluctantly moving off of you and breaking your connection. Carefully, he pulls you up off the floor, taking a minute to inspect the rug burns on your back. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry, does it hurt?” As he gingerly runs his fingers down your reddened back, you try to hide a wince.

“It was worth it, trust me.” You reassure him with one more loving kiss before taking his hand to pull him back into bed with you. “And yes, you’ll be invited back. They know we’re a package deal now. They can’t deny that you make me very, very happy.” Curling up together in those old, scratchy sheets and looking upwards to the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling, you can’t help but feel overwhelmingly thankful. Completely exhausted, you snuggle into his chest, letting out one last yawn as you prepare for sleep to overtake you.

“Babe?” You assumed he’d already fallen asleep, but you manage to let out a hum to let him know you’re still listening. “I think I love American Thanksgiving.” You can’t help but giggle softly into his chest, giving him a soft love bite.

“Oh yeah? Just wait until Fourth of July…”

tagging @fourtristattoos for boyfriend!week

[ghostbustermelanieking]

a mountain in colorado (part 3 of 3)

part one, part two

post ghouli au. jackson van de kamp, emily sim, samantha mulder, melissa scully. part of my series that i write as i rewatch the x files.

Summary: While Jackson Van de Kamp is on the run, he encounters a series of assumed-dead relatives he didn’t know he had.

---

So this is what Jackson does now. He lives among these inexplicable long-lost relatives, and he tries not to question it. They aren't new parents, he tells himself. They definitely aren't that. And the other parts, the extended members of his family have basically rejected him, and he won't dare try again after what happened with his grandmother. So it must be okay. He's safe here, and his parents can't resent him for being safe, can they? And he still hasn't called Samantha or Melissa Aunt.

It's in the little shit. Samantha kind of gives him warning looks when he goes for the booze, so he holds back, but they watch Netflix on the couch a lot of nights. They like the same old sitcoms that never touch the areas that they don't want to hear about, tests and hospitals and dead parents. Samantha plays basketball, it turns out, and they play one on one on the blacktop sometimes because what the hell else is he going to do. (The first time they play, she beats him by a wide margin. He taunts, “You're pretty good for a woman in her fifties,” and she looks astonished for a second before making a face and telling him to shut the hell up.) He plays a lot of board games with Melissa and Emily, he and Emily hike the mountains sometimes. He and Emily are the most likely to hang out, goof off and do dumb kid stuff even though she is in her twenties, like the siblinghood they never had. Strange little companionable situations and plenty of isolation seem to make this situation that he's actually willing to stay in.

Emily makes him go with her to get groceries at one point, shows him the tiny-ass town that they are closest to. It's cute, reminds him of his hometown in Wyoming. Nothing like Norfolk.

The clerk at the grocery store recognizes her, and has plenty of questions about who he is. “He's my little brother,” Emily says, tousling his hair as he tries to duck away. (He's actually taller than her, it looks fucking ridiculous for her to do that.) “I thought it was about time he helped me out with the groceries,” she adds smugly, as if he'd been ducking responsibilities all this time instead of literally having only been around two weeks.

“Oh, you two look just alike!” says the clerk, and Jackson wants to call him a liar, but they do look alike, just a little. In the face; their profiles are similar. They both have some freckles, although Emily has more. He sees it, but it makes him uncomfortable, and he can't believe this random fucking stranger sees it. He ducks his head and studiously ignores the guy.

He helps carry the groceries, and Emily makes him drive back to camp, tossing him the keys with the excuse of, “I'm tired.” (He's secretly relieved; his sister drives like a maniac. He probably isn't much better, but riding with Emily feels like an adventure, or something meant for thrill-seekers. Especially with all those mountain curves.) He takes the keys and drives back, trying not to dwell on what the clerk said. But it sticks with him anyway. They look alike. He has a big sister. It's easy to forget sometimes, hut he actually has a sister.

(Emily may be the one family member he doesn't feel guilty about. It feels less wrong to have a sister because he's never had a sister before, she can't be misconstrued as a replacement. Because she was an experiment, too. Because he knew her before his parents died. Because he's always kind of wanted a sister.)

Emily plays music too loud the whole way back to camp and tells him to at least go the speed limit. It's December, and it's probably unreasonable to ride around with all the windows down, but Jackson lets them down anyway.

---

It strikes him, sometimes, how far he is from his original goal. He wanted to cross the country, find little ways to forget everything that had happened, maybe send Bri and Sarah a postcard or two. Avoid Scully and Mulder and the facets from that part of his life as much as he could, either for the safety of his birth parents and himself, or out of a need not to betray his parents. Maybe figure out how to save the fucking world, if he can save the fucking world. (Somehow, he seriously doubts it.) But the longer he stays at this abandoned summer camp, the further he feels himself straying away from his plans, his old life. He barely thinks about Bri and Sarah anymore, and considering how that went down, that's probably a good thing. He's done enough to ruin their lives; the best he can do is to stay away. But he doesn't think about his old life in Norfolk much. And he still thinks about his parents, a lot—in his nightmares, in those random guilty moments that hit him at just the right angle to completely gut him, in those moments where he's enjoying himself and he brings up a moment from his past, a funny story or something on pure instinct. And then he remembers: it's not the same. It will never be the same again.

No one ever comments on that, because he knows that all three of the women here can relate to that. It seems to be a different kind of painful for them, especially Emily—she’s brought up a few memories she has of her adoptive parents, although they're less because she was so young, and almost all of them make her cry. Samantha seems the same sort of distanced from her old life as Emily, since it's been over forty years. Sometimes, she'll bring up an argument she had with her brother, or some prank she played, or something like that, but she almost always stops herself whenever Jackson's around, casting those same nervous looks at him that he's more or less gotten used to. He'd rather Samantha treat the subject delicately, he guesses, even though it's beginning to drive him crazy.

Melissa, though. Melissa brings up her family more often. She usually seems happier than Samantha and Emily both when she does, and the stories usually involve her sister whenever Jackson is around. Jackson's birth mother.

He tries his best to ignore it. He really does. Melissa is pretty cool, and she's a good cook (“I used to be a terrible cook, just to piss off my mom,” she tells him once, “but I've been bored out here for almost twenty years, I had to get good at something. I feel like I've betrayed my values, but I couldn't eat Samantha's cooking for another fucking day.”), and she's usually really welcoming to him. She lets him crash on her couch, and doesn't complain when he and Emily stay up too late watching movies and cracking up and making a mess with the popcorn, and doesn't complain when he eats all her food, or when he really does find a weed stash and breaks it out. She's nice. But it gets on his nerves. He doesn't know how to make it clear that he can't be close to Scully, and call her Mom, and give her hugs, like he knows Melissa wants. He's a fuck-up, and he meant it when he said he wished he knew Scully better, but he doesn't know how to do it. When he was a little kid, he would've loved to hear these stories. Now, they just make him mad. Make him think about what could have been.

It all comes to a head, of course. Like it always does.

Jackson comes over to Melissa's house one day looking for Emily, and she tells him that Emily's driven into town for the evening. Somehow, this turns into Melissa and Jackson playing Scrabble alone. He's kind of nervous at the prospect of hanging out with her alone, without Emily as a buffer, but he goes with it because there are cookies in a container on the counter, and he'd feel like the biggest asshole in the world if he said no. (That's how you know they're family, he thinks. Because you're afraid to say no and hurt their feelings.)

He doesn't really care. He's always been pretty good at Scrabble. The first half of the game goes pretty smoothly, with Jackson collecting as many triple word scores as he can, and Melissa telling him stories about her college years that are so ridiculous it makes him crack up. He knew he got his proclivity for troublemaking and getting high from somewhere. “You were pretty badass, back in the day,” he tells her, and she shrugs and says, “What can I say, Dana was always the good one.”

The second half of the game goes downhill from there.

Jackson tries to steer the conversation back into safer waters by trying to interject stories of trouble he and his friends have gotten into, but Melissa can match it with just as many stories about Scully. She used to drag Dana to parties, and Dana was absolutely ridiculous when she got drunk. Dana was a good student, straight A student for all the time she spent in school. Dana used to sneak out every week when she was fourteen and smoke cigarettes, and Melissa still doesn't know how she didn't get caught. Melissa and Dana used to smoke on the roof at Thanksgiving when things would get too awkward with family. Dana was always great at Scrabble, Melissa thinks she used to read the dictionary when she got bored. Dana used to babysit the neighbor's kids, and she was always just great at it, she always loved kids.

That's the proverbial last straw. That's when Jackson can't take it anymore.

“Stop,” he says quietly, poking at a Q tile with the tip of his finger.

“What was that, Jack?” Melissa asks.

“I said stop,” he snaps, standing up so fast that his knee hits the bottom of the table and the Scrabble tiles rattle. Melissa looks surprised, but she doesn't say a word.

“I don't want to hear stories about her,” he says, feeling vicious but not knowing how to stop. “She's not my mom. I have a mom. It's not her.”

Melissa doesn't look hurt, incredibly. She says, “You're right.”

Jackson freezes; he's not used to hearing that. He says, “What?”

“I said you're right,” says Melissa, softly. “I was being selfish. I guess I just… I want you to know her as someone more than… the woman who gave you up.”

She's being so nice about it, so reasonable, and Jackson isn't used to people responding this way to his irrational fucking freak-outs. She's probably been telling these stories for years, to Emily, making promises about a mother she'll never meet. “You haven't seen her in almost twenty years,” he hisses, really vicious this time. “You don't know her anymore.”

And Melissa does look hurt by that, and Jackson feels like the biggest asshole on the planet, but he doesn't know what else to do. He doesn't know what else to do. He turns on his heel and storms out of the room, his heartbeat so loud he can hear it in his ears.

He makes it all the way to his bedroom before he bursts into harsh, angry sobs that he muffles in the collar of his sweatshirt, shivering and shaking and rocking on the hard wooden floor.

---

When he was a kid, he used to think whatever controlled his powers was like another person. Someone who picked what he could do, or what it was he saw whenever he saw clairvoyant shit. He hardly thinks that's the case anymore, but if it is, he'd like to formally tell this outside power to go fuck itself.

He falls asleep on the floor and right into a dream about the absolute last subject he'd want to see right now. He'd love to see, like, something with his parents in it. Some good memory to hold onto. But it's Ginger, and she looks younger than she is now (but definitely older than she was in those visions he got of Melissa's faked death), and it looks like she's giving birth. She's in a dark room on some rickety bed, definitely not a hospital. She's surrounded by people, unfamiliar people who Jackson can immediately tell are not friendly, and a dark-haired woman is bent over her, encouraging her, soothing her. She cries out with the pain of the labor, and Jackson can feel her desperation, her fear. She pleads, “This is my baby! Please don't let them take it!” and Jackson wants to cry out himself. Wants to say, I'm not yours, but he was. Wants to ask, Why did you let me go if I was yours? Why did you let them take me if you didn't want them to? He wants to cry. He can hear the tears in her voice.

The woman is telling Scully to push, and she howls with the effort of it, and Jackson wants to look away but he can't. Ginger shouts with pain and distress, fear, tears wet on her face, and suddenly, new cries fill the room. His cries, tiny and angry and shrill, and Ginger laughs in gaspy panic when she hears it, tears welling in her eyes. Jackson fills another emotion filling him, thick and fierce and unmistakable, one he always wanted his birth mom to feel for him, one he now desperately wants to ignore.

He used to be upset that he didn't have any pictures from the day he was born. He used to wish his mom was his birth mom and his real mom.

“It's a boy!” the dark-haired woman says cheerfully, holding up the baby—him.

“Lemme see him,” Dana says, slurring her words, reaching out almost blindly. “I wanna see him… Give me my baby, Monica.”

The woman is focused on cutting the cord, tending to him, making sure he is alright. Jackson can feel the eyes of the cultists or whatever on them, trying to make a decision. The baby version of him wails and wails. “Give him to me!” Scully shouts, fierce and nearly feral with protectiveness.

The woman hunches over him protectively as she moves around the bed, lays him on his mother's chest. She bursts into sobs at the contact, covering him with her hands, one on his back and the other cupping his head. The two of them cry together, and she puts her head down by his and whispers something that should probably be indecipherable in the chaos of the room. But Jackson hears it. He hears every word.

She says, “It's okay. It's going to be okay, baby. I've got you. I've got you. I love you so much.”

Jackson wakes up on the floor quivering with cold. It's full-on winter, and he's freezing, and his back is killing him. His face is wet again. He presses his hands to his face and rolls over on his stomach. He's shaking, quivering from head to toe.

The truth is that he wasn't lying at that gas station. He wants to know her better. Ginger, Dana Scully, his birth mother. He wants her to want him, to love him. He's wanted it since he was a little kid. But he can't let himself want it, because she gave him up, and his parents are dead, and Jesus Christ, things are supposed to be easier than this.

He's shaking and crying, and he screws his eyes shut, and he can hear her voice again: I've got you. I love you. That's the first thing she ever said to him. And she gave him up. She fucking gave him up. But she said she wanted him. She said she was sorry she didn't get a chance to know him. She said it was the hardest thing she's ever done. He doesn't know what to do.

He's seen her all his life. When he was a kid, when he was scared or sad. He thinks he always knew who she was. He's resented her and he's wondered about her and he's longed to know whether or not she loved him. And now he is here.

He picks himself up off the floor and curls up on the bed, because the floor is fucking awful. He wipes his eyes, his cheeks, and presses his face into his palms. Screws his eyes shut and wishes, just once, to see something happy from his life when he falls asleep.

---

Jackson finds cans of beer in Samantha's refrigerator. He takes two and climbs up to the loft tucked under the ceiling. He sits on the floor with the back against the wall and pops one of them open like a soda. The bitter taste reminds him of Norfolk, sea-salt air and gritty dirt on the soles of his shoes. He closes his eyes and pretends that he is home.

He opens them minutes later at the creaking of the ladder. Samantha appears over the edge of the floor a second later, wincing a little as she steps into the loft. “Want some company?” she asks, and he shrugs. She sits beside him against the wall, picking up the other beer and cracking it open.

“That was mine,” Jackson says, not really caring.

“You know, Fox and I used to share a loft like this,” Samantha says in lieu of a response, taking a sip. “At our vacation house in Quonochontaug, Rhode Island.”

Jackson snorts. “Vacation home, huh,” he says. “You guys were rich?”

“Rich with blood money, yeah,” Samantha replies, her voice bitter. “It wasn't exactly an idyllic lifestyle, kid.”

He drains his can with one gulp. He says, “I don't think any of us exactly had an idyllic lifestyle.”

“That's true,” says Samantha.

They sit in silence. Samantha drinks her beer, Jackson picks at his beer label with his fingernails. He's tempted to ask if Melissa and Emily are pissed at him, but he doesn't. Samantha speaks on that subject first. She says, “Missy and Emily told me what happened…”

“I don't get it,” Jackson says before she can finish. Rips the blue label all the way off and chucks the can at the wall. It makes a loud clanking sound as it hits the floor, lying dormant. “You guys have been hiding out here for years because it'd be too dangerous for your families if you told them you were alive. Melissa told me she's wanted to go home, but she couldn't. So… how come I can leave? How come you said I could leave at any time?”

She seems nearly stunned by silence before answering. Nearly confused. “You're… different, Jackson,” she says uncertainly. “We're not going to force you to stay…”

“But it's totally okay for me to go find Mulder and Scully, for some reason,” he snaps, knocking his foot against the floor. “That's totally fine. No fucking problem.”

“I've never…”

“Yeah, and why haven't you ever? Why aren't you just begging me to run home to my mommy and daddy, and give them a big old hug, and make your long lost brother so happy?”

“Because I can't even take that advice,” Samantha snaps, and it's enough to shut him the hell up. His shoulders hit the wall hard in defeat.

Samantha sighs, pressing her hands over her eyes. “I've been here since 1997, Jackson. Twenty years. In that time, my mom has died, I learned that my dad was dead, and a series of absolute horrible things have happened to my brother. And I didn't go home after any of those times, even after my mother died—who I was a lot closer to than my father, and who I resented a lot less, since she didn't technically choose to give me up to these conspirators over my brother like my father did.”

Astonishment washes over Jackson; he had no idea. He probably should've, considering all he's seen, but he really had no idea.

Samantha sighs, gritting her teeth grimly. “Right around the time Mom died, someone apparently fooled Fox into thinking that I died a long time ago, and it just felt… right. It's horrible, but I thought I could… I dunno, give him some peace if he finally thought I was dead. I knew how long he'd been looking.” Her voice cracks, quivering. “I… I thought maybe it was the right thing to do. I thought it'd be better that way.”

Shaken, stunned, Jackson blinks in shock. Thinking about what he saw in that living room forty-some years ago. Those scared fucking kids. “How the hell… how did you know all this?” he stammers.

Samantha rubs at her eyes. “The woman who brought me here kept me informed,” she says thickly.

He nods knowingly, remembering what Melissa told him. “Diana something, right? Melissa told me she brought you both here.”

“She did,” Samantha says softly. “I was the first one. She was working with the Consortium in Europe, and she… she found out where I was being held after an incident in the spring of ‘97.” She rubs at her eyes again, her forehead, as if she's crying. “I left something out before, when I said I hadn't seen Fox since I was twelve. I met him once after that. This guy who was… trying to manipulate him… Something about your mom being sick or something, I don't know… But he wanted me to tell Fox that he was my father, and that I thought our mom was dead, and refuse to see him or go see her. To tell him I had a family of my own. And I… I went along with it because I was scared. At the time, I was thirty-two, and I'd been in those facilities for twenty-four years. I was absolutely terrified. So I went along with it, even though it killed me. I wanted to tell him what was happening, to see if he could help me, but I was so scared about what would happen. So I… I walked right out and right back to the people who’d kept me captive since I was a kid.” She buries her face in her hands again. “Diana Fowley found me after that,” she says into her hands.

Jackson's mouth is hanging open a little bit. “Who… who is Diana Fowley?”

“She said she was Fox's ex-boyfriend. I guess she was working against him, too, and she felt guilty for what she was doing to him.” She grimaces with disgust. “I was supposed to be moved to another facility after I met with Fox, and she intercepted it. Got me out, brought me here. She told me it was because she owed my brother, and that he'd been looking for me as long as she knew him. And she told me I couldn't have any contact with him. Not with him, or my mom, or anyone from my old life. She said it was too dangerous. She said that we'd all die if I did.”

“And that's… that's why you never wanted to go back,” Jackson says softly.

Samantha shrugs, sniffling just a little. “It spooked me. That night I saw my brother was overwhelming. He was so… so relieved to see me. And I wanted to go with him, see my mom, tell him what they'd done to me and see if he could get me out… But it was hard. I had no idea how to respond. And I… I think I've been scared all this time about what would happen if I went home.”

“What happened, though?” Jackson asks, because that's the question he really wants answered. How did they get here, what happened to his birth parents, how does Samantha know all of this. “You clearly have some idea of what happened to your brother… And you know who my birth mom is, because of Melissa… So what happened?”

She shrugs. “Diana kept in touch. She kept me informed, kept visiting. I wanted to know that my family was okay, after she scared me so bad… And then she brought Melissa here a couple years later. Missy knew Fox, at least a little, and told me about his partnership with your mom… Diana kept us both informed for a really long time. She was watching your parents, although they thought she was dead, and Missy and I both wanted to know that our families were okay, so that was our agreement. She told us when Fox thought I was dead, and she told us when Fox was abducted, and she told us when, uh…” She takes a sharp breath. “... when Fox was presumed dead. And then when they figured out he was alive. And she told us when they had you.”

Jackson can suddenly see the dream he had last night: his birth mother crying out in pain, demanding to see him. How protective she was. He can't quite put together the chain of events, but Jesus Christ, it makes sense that she was so panicked. There'd been a point where it was assumed that his birth father was dead?

“Diana cut off contact in 2002, right around the same time your parents went on the run,” Samantha says, sounding a little more composed now. She sniffs again, runs a finger tip under her eye.

“After they gave me up for adoption,” says Jackson, feeling like the air has been knocked out of him. This is all harder to hear than he ever would've imagined.

Samantha turns towards him, her eyes soft. “Yeah,” she says softly. “After that.”

He swallows, his head hitting the wall gently. “Melissa said you got a new contact then,” he mumbles. “That you thought about contacting my parents after they went on the run.”

“We did,” Samantha says roughly. “But I thought it might be just as dangerous as contacting them when they were on the grid. I… I zeroed in my focus on making this place somewhere where people could hide out. I looked for kids that had been in the situation I grew up in, and that's how I found Emily. And I tried to keep an eye on you, make sure you were safe.” She sighs, finger-combing hair away from her face, thumbing a tear away. “And here we are. I never tried to contact my brother. And now it seems more or less useless, after all these years of hiding, never telling him I was alive… I can't tell you to go home, Jackson. I won't put pressure on you, for one, because I know you don't know your birth parents. Missy knows that, too; I think she just wanted you to know that her sister didn't give you up because she didn't want you. But I can't tell you to go and find my brother because I won't go find him either.”

She goes quiet next to him, fingers knotted in her lap. The beer can is sideways on the floor, puddle at the opening. Jackson sighs, staring out of the huge window across from them. His mouth tastes bitter, his stomach sore. “Samantha, I'm starting to think your family is cursed or something,” he says finally, because that feels like the most appropriate thing to say right now. The situation was well and fucked before he ever came on the scene.

Samantha laughs. “Oh, kid,” she says exhaustedly. “I've known that for years.”

---

Jackson steals three cans of soda and makes two sandwiches, and hikes up into the hills to the waterfall. He's hoping for some time alone, some introspective shit, but he finds Emily there, her hair tossed back in a messy braid, her shoes gathered by the bank and her bare feet dangling in the water. She offers him a small smile when he sits down beside her. “Hey, Jack.”

“Hey, Em.” He peels off his own shoes and kicks at the water. Places like this make him miss the ocean. They sit in silence, watching the river.

“Is Melissa pissed?” he asks finally, head tipped up towards the sun.

Emily shakes her head. “She's not pissed. You could stand to work on your tact… but she's not pissed.”

Jackson nods. He's known about the tact thing for years. “Has she… done that to you?” he adds, wriggling his toes in the river mud. “Told you stories about Scully? How great she is? How much she… loves kids or whatever?”

“Sure she has,” Emily says. “Dana is her sister, and Missy really misses her. She told me a lot of stories about her mom and brothers too.” She shrugs. “The difference is that I wanted to hear them.”

He isn't surprised. Emily was cheated out of something that he grew up with: two parents who loved him and cared for him. She spent years being experimented on; she was so eager for someone to save her that she cried in that hospital when Samantha and Melissa showed up. He remembers her hugging them like she knew them. But still, he says, “Didn't that make you sad?”

“It did,” says Emily honestly. “I've had a lot of that kind of pain, Jackson. I used to daydream about what it would be like if my parents had never died when I was three. Or if Dana had gotten to adopt me. Or if they'd never taken me away from her in the first place. Or if Dana had never been abducted and they hadn't made me without her consent. I've considered a lot of stuff like that. I think that… all this time, I've really just wanted a family. Throughout all this. And hearing Missy's stories was the closest I could get. But I do have a family. I have Missy and Samantha.”

“But you always wondered about her,” Jackson supplies. He doesn't need to clarify who she is.

“Of course I did.” She turns to look at him, her eyes bright blue and exactly like Melissa's. Exactly like Ginger's. “Didn't you?”

He doesn't need to answer that. He turns back to the river, the waterfall. The sound of water on water is so loud that everything they say could almost be lost in the noise. But he hears it. He'll remember. He can't lose things that easy.

Finally, he says, “Do you think I should go find them?”

Part of him expects a yes. The rest of him has no fucking idea what to expect. He knows that Emily has been supportive of him doing pretty much whatever he wants. He doesn't know if she'd encourage him to go when she can't.

Emily says, “For years, I've been told by Samantha that I couldn't ever meet my birth mother. That it was too dangerous for me and her both. And for years, I've always thought it would happen one way or another. But now I'm twenty-three years old, and I don't know what the hell to do with myself. I have aunts, and I have a brother, and I'm safe, and I think that's something.” She punches his arm lightly before getting to her feet. “I'm not going to tell you what to do, Jack,” she says, wiping dirty hands on her jeans. “None of us are. But we're here, and we want you to be safe. The rest of it is up to you.”

---

Things go back to normal. Or as normal as they can be in a situation like this.

The weather grows colder as Christmas grows closer. It's pretty easy to forget the holiday—the others don't really mention it—and Jackson is more than ready to forget it. He doesn't want any reminders of the loss of his parents. From what Emily's told him, this time of year is equally painful for her, her parents died at Christmastime.

The four of them end up hanging out together a lot. Mostly at Melissa's, but occasionally at Samantha's. Watching movies or playing cards. Jackson has no idea how to cook, but he'll help sometimes with throwing snacks together; Samantha and Emily are pretty good at guilting him into helping. He helps Emily with the grocery shopping, too. Samantha finally gets tired of washing the same jeans, t-shirt, and sweatshirt, and drags him into town to buy some new clothes. There's always coffee, and heat, and he feels fairly safe most of the time. It's something of an idyllic existence, compared to weeks on the road, hungry and dirty and grieving.

One night, Jackson is woken up by the flashing of headlights through his window. His initial reaction is panic; he huddles up against the window, his face against the cold glass, and contemplates how the hell he's going to fight these people off. He's pretty capable of defending himself, as evidenced by what happened at the hospital in Norfolk, but he has no idea what kind of threat this is, no idea what Samantha has set up for protective measures, no idea if Samantha is even awake… But he knows he can't let these people get to them, if they've come to hurt them.

The door to Melissa's cabin opens, he can see it from the window. Melissa comes out the door and walks towards the car, and Jackson takes a sharp, panicked breath, his nose pressing against the window. The glass dogs right up. He did not expect Melissa to be the one to fight people off. Does she know what's happening? Is she prepared to defend herself? Does he have time, the ability, to defend her? He tenses, almost leaning into the window, ready to act. His palms pressed to the cold glass.

A woman gets out of the car and walks towards Melissa, and neither of them seem to react like they're enemies. The woman doesn't look malicious, and Melissa doesn't look scared. But still, Jackson doesn't completely relax until Melissa and the woman are embracing. Until the woman is visible standing in the headlights of the car, and Jackson recognizes her: the woman who helped Scully deliver him. Monica, the informant, he assumes.

He lets his forehead fall against the cold window, scoffs through his teeth. Will these weird goddamn coincidences ever stop.

Melissa and the woman, Monica, are heading towards the house now. Jackson hears the door open outside and scrambles to his feet. He's outside of his room before he can contemplate what the hell he's doing, standing awkwardly in the doorway. Samantha's at the door greeting Monica, saying, “It's good to see you, we were getting a little worried,” and then Melissa scoffs, “A little?” and Jackson's feeling a little awkward, like the way he feels walking into a room full of relatives at holidays without a single thing to talk about. He doesn't know why he came out, and he's getting ready to go back in when they notice him. “Oh, hey, Jack,” Melissa says warmly, and the welcome in her voice makes him instinctively uncomfortable. He feels like he shouldn't be here.

The woman—Monica—turns to him, and a cascade of emotions come over her face. “William, oh my god,” she says, and Jackson tenses immediately. He hasn't been called that since the hospital. “You've really grown up,” she continues thickly.

He remembers her from her dream, handing him to Scully. “Uh, hi,” he says awkwardly.

Monica clears her throat awkwardly, waves it off. “I'm sorry, it's just… I knew you when you were little. I knew your parents.”

Birth parents, Jackson wants to add, but doesn't. “Oh, yeah, I know,” he says, immediately wishing he'd stayed in his room. He waves a hand at the kitchen. “I'm gonna… grab some water.”

“Help yourself,” Samantha says with a small smile.

He pads into the kitchen and grabs a glass, fills it with ice cubes. Closer to the door, he can hear them talking, can hear scraps of words—“Spender…” and “Spartan Virus…” and “When is it coming?” He tries to ignore it. He doesn't want to know. He pours water from the pitcher in the fridge, grabs the pint of ice cream in the freezer just because.

The women are crowded at a table, talking quietly, but they all notice him walking back through. Jackson can tell. Monica and Melissa offer him small smiles. Samantha raises her eyebrows pointedly at the ice cream, which Jackson shrugs off. “It's good to see you again, Jackson,” Monica says, and Jackson notes the use of his real name. “If you have any questions, I'd be glad to answer them for you.”

“Oh—” His shoulders tense up as if protectively. He has questions, and he doesn't want to ask them. “Thank you.”

Monica nods. He nods back, the glass of water chilling one hand and the ice cream chilling another, and keeps going. Part of him wants to hear what they're talking about, but the rest of him wants nothing to do with it.

Just before he enters his room, he hears Melissa say, “So have you told Mulder and Dana—”

He lets the door slam too hard behind him.

---

They're lying on the bed, the three of them. Mulder and Scully and him, as a baby. And they're calling him William. Scully's wearing this robe, and she's cuddled up to Mulder's side, one hand clutching at his t-shirt and the other on the baby's back. He's is lying on Mulder's chest, and Mulder looks dopily happy. The two of them, they look so happy. It's practically a family portrait.

And there he is. The baby photos he never had. You must've been such a cute baby, his mom said earlier before wincing, like she hadn't meant to say it. He always used to wonder. And there he is, white blanket and blue onesie. His eyes are blue. His eyes used to be blue, like Emily's. They used to be blue and now they are brown. He used to look like his sister.

They look so happy. Mulder leans down and kisses the top of Scully's head. She presses her cheek against his shoulder, rubs a hand up and down the baby's back. She whispers, This is all I wanted. She says, When I asked you to be the father… this is what I wanted. She sniffles, buries her head against his t-shirt.

His birth father wraps an arm around his birth mother's shoulders. This is what I wanted, too, he says, and he has tears in his eyes. This is it, he says, and he kisses the top of the baby's head, too.

When Jackson wakes up, he is thinking of his parents. The picture on his grandmother's mantle of the day they adopted him, where he's much bigger than that. They're holding him between them, his dad holding his mom and him and his mom bouncing him on her knee. They both look so happy. That's what he always noticed when he was a kid: Mom and Dad both looked so happy.

They looked the same way Mulder and Scully did in that dream. Exactly the same.

Jackson wants to be upset, hurt, resentful. The way he's felt after all the other dreams. He wants to feel a greater longing for his parents, his real parents. He wants to feel as far away as possible from the little kid who daydreamed about the red-headed woman he saw in visions.

But he can't. He doesn't know how he feels, but it's not resentment, somehow.

He thinks he could feel the love in that scene, everything his birth parents were feeling. He thinks he can feel it now. He thinks they really love him.

---

They have dinner one night, some night close to Christmas. Emily and Jackson cook, and it's close enough to a disaster, but not quite. They're both giggly, which might have something to do with the wine Samantha broke out, and Jackson can't believe how much fun it is. He never expected to have this much fun here.

Towards the end of the meal, Melissa is in the midst of a story about teaching Samantha to drive when she'd first came here, and Emily is cracking up, and Jackson asks the question he's been wondering about for a while. “Okay, I know how you guys got here,” he says, waving his hand with the wine glass in it. “But like… how did you end up here? How did you end up hanging out with the sibling of the person your sibling ended up with? How did that happen?”

Melissa laughs, a little tipsy. Samantha shrugs widely, scraping her fork over her plate. “Coincidences, I guess,” she says, smiling a little.

“Or fate,” Melissa offers, completely serious.

“We have a bounty of coincidences and fate here,” Emily points out. “How we all ended up here, and all end up related to each other. How we all ended up as washed-up Syndicate experiments.”

“I don't think that one was a coincidence, exactly,” Samantha says.

“How we're all orphans,” says Jackson. Not even thinking about it. Another dumbass tidbit from Jackson, the jackass who always puts his foot in his mouth. But it's true, he thinks. It's true. They all know what it's like to lose their parents. He feels a little better, being with people who know what it's like to lose their parents.

Emily nods unsteadily, wrapping an arm around his shoulders in what he thinks is a hug. But Melissa is shaking her head. “I'm not,” she says. “My dad passed… back in ‘94, but my mom is still alive.”

Oh, shit. Shit. Jackson can feel himself wincing, because she didn't know? She didn't know? Goddamnit, he is the biggest fucking idiot.

He doesn't know what kind of face he is making, but it's the wrong one. Melissa goes pale. Emily's eyes shift from his face to hers uncertainly, as she takes her arm away from his shoulder. Samantha looks stricken. “My-my mom…?” Melissa asks, her voice wavering.

“I… I thought you knew,” Jackson says, his voice cracking. He's seen his birth mother's tears, her frantic grief, he's seen the funeral, and he thought that Melissa knew.

Melissa's face crumples. She stumbles to her feet and is rushing out of the room, both hands over her mouth, going so fast that she almost runs into the wall. “Missy!” Emily shouts, and she's running after her, her feet pounding the ground. The front door slams, twice.

Jackson buries his face in his hands, horrified. Nauseous. “I thought she knew,” he chokes out. “I really thought…”

“I know. I know.” Samantha's suddenly beside him, her arm around him like Melissa's was a minute ago. Jackson can't find the strength to shake it off. He's seeing his mom and dad, bloody and limp in the kitchen, hearing his mother's scream, and oh my god. He can't fucking believe he did that.

“I… I never knew, either,” Samantha says, and there's an extraordinary amount of guilt in her voice, regret. “I never knew. If I'd known, I would've…” She takes a rough breath, squeezes Jackson's shoulder and lets go. “Jesus Christ, poor Missy.”

Jackson rubs a hard hand over his mouth, lets it drop to the table. “I'm such a fucking idiot,” he says.

“You didn't know,” Samantha repeats. She shakes her head hard, her jaw clenched. “I would've let her go home if I'd known. I really had no idea.”

Jackson is unable to say anything else. He lets his face drop into his palms. The two of them sit there in a sort of stunned silence, like they don't know what to do next.

---

Samantha comes into his room the next morning. He's lying on the bed, flipping through a book in an effort to clear his mind, when she comes in and says quietly, “Emily wants us to come over.” So he goes.

When they get to Emily and Melissa's, Melissa has a suitcase open in the living room. She's stuffing stuff into it, and she doesn't look up when they come in. “Don't try and talk me out of it, Sam,” she says, her voice hard, her eyes wet. “I'm going home. I'm going to see my sister. I'm going to see my family.”

“I know,” Samantha says, her voice soft. “I'm not going to try to stop you.”

Melissa freezes, a book hanging from her fingers. From the kitchen, Emily says, “You're not?” in a shocked voice.

Samantha shakes her head. “Of course not, Missy,” she says gently. “Of course not.”

Melissa lets the book drop to the floor and turns to them, teary-eyed and gratefully, wobbily smiling. She embraces Samantha hard, her face buried in her shoulder. “Thank you,” she mumbles, and Samantha shakes her head hard, dismissive of her thanks, hugs her back genuinely and tightly.

Jackson's heart is thudding, so hard he can feel it in his ribs. Melissa is going to see Scully, and maybe she will tell her where he is, but he doesn't want to dwell on that. He needs to apologize. He feels almost sick to his stomach. He says, “Melissa… I am so sorry…”

Melissa lets go of Samantha and embraces him next. “Oh, it's okay, Jackson,” she murmurs, her voice thick with grief. “I'm… I'm really glad you told me. I just wish I'd… known sooner.”

Guilt clogs his throat, guilt from this encounter and the last one, and he's doing it before he can consider it: he's wrapping his arms around his aunt and hugging her back.

“Missy?” Emily asks in a small voice, almost childlike. She's approaching tentatively, uncertainly. “Um… can I… would you mind if I…?”

She nods as she lets go of Jackson, wiping at her eyes. “Of course, Em. I was always going to take you with me,” she says, her voice trembling, and Emily smiles in an apprehensive, eager kind of way. And then Melissa turns back to Samantha in a rapid, jerky motion. “You should come, too,” she says, almost insistently.

Samantha's shaking her head already. “Oh, no, Missy, I can't…”

“Yes, you can,” says Emily immediately, reaching out to touch Samantha's shoulder. “Samantha, I know that it's hard for you… to imagine seeing your brother again…”

“I can't do it,” Samantha says, her voice choked. “All these years, I've been alive, let him think I was dead… He's been looking for me for over forty years, and I can't… I can't face him. He's going to hate me.”

“He's not going to hate you,” Melissa says, and she still sounds like she's crying, but her voice is so steady. “I've told you what Dana told me all those years ago, Samantha, about Fox looking for you… You're his little sister, and you're alive. He never thought he'd see you again. He is not going to hate you.” Samantha shakes her head again, stubbornly, and Melissa touches her other shoulder, whispers, “Samantha, I would never hate my little sister. He is not going to hate you. Please come with us.”

Samantha's chin trembles. She shakes her head again, weaker this time. “I… I can't… leave Jackson here alone. What if they…”

“I'll come with you,” Jackson says.

They turn to him in surprise, and he's honestly floored himself. He had no idea that he was going to say that. He can't believe he did. But now that it's out there, he can't take it back. And he almost thinks he doesn't want to.

Emily grins at him, in that same nervous way. Melissa offers him a small, shaky smile, too, but she's focused on Samantha. Jackson inhales, exhales, meets Samantha's eyes as she looks up. “If it's dangerous…” she tries.

“If it's dangerous, we'll deal with it,” Emily says. “They are FBI agents, you know.”

Samantha breathes out slowly, her shoulders sagging. Takes a few deep breaths before she nods.

“Okay?” Melissa asks, and Samantha nods again. Melissa embraces her again, letting a choked sob out against her shoulder. Samantha rubs her back comfortingly, looking near tears herself. They hug each other tightly, supporting each other, holding each other up.

Emily is standing beside Jackson; she squeezes his arm as if excited or fearful. Jackson knows that she's been thinking about this for a long time. And if he's being honest with himself, so has he.

“We're really doing this?” she whispers, and he nods. He can't quite believe it, but they are.

---

In an hour, they've packed the car. Melissa and Samantha remain right on the verge of weepy and giggly and nearly hysterical, supporting each other as they climb into the front seat. Melissa's nervously twisting a soggy tissue on her fist, has nearly torn it to bits. Jackson climbs in the back beside his sister, feeling like a little kid. Thinking of that vision he had, once, of Emily in the car with Samantha and Melissa as they drove away from Wyoming with all the windows down. It really is too cold to do that now, but Emily grins conspiratorially at him. Apprehension and anticipation crackles in the car like a live wire; they have a long trip ahead. He has no idea how they'll be able to make it cross country without losing their minds.

“Do we know where the house is?” Melissa is asking, and Samantha is saying, “Farrs Corner, I think… we could call Monica…”

“It is in Farrs Corner,” Jackson says, and they all turn to look at him. He gulps, adds, “I can help you find it,” because he can.

Melissa and Emily exhale as if relieved, as if nervous. “Okay,” Samantha says, as if it's a decision. And she starts the car.

Jackson feels like he is retracing his steps, headed back cross country to every painful thing he left behind. Except he is not going to Norfolk. As Samantha guides the car onto the dirt road, around the curves, Jackson rests his head on the window and thinks, I just want to know that I'm making the right decision. That's all.  

Jackson watches trees and countryside flit by. In the back of his mind, he can see Mulder and Scully in their house, asleep on the couch. Leaning into each other the way they did in his last dream about him. In front of him, the road. The possibilities. How Mulder and Scully will react when they realize that they're all okay. Everything feels like a blur again, like it's going too fast. But he thinks he's okay with it that way.

He thinks that there's no real way to know whether or not this is the right decision. But he thinks that, somehow, this feels right.

[callunavulgari]

Year-In-Life | 2018

Or that annual New Year’s meme about yours truly.

1. What did you do in 2018 that you’d never done before? Got a big girl job! Got insurance! Made my very own eye doctor appointment! Got an apartment all on my own with my boyfriend! And this all happened since October! Basically I haven’t had time to do more than sleep in like two months!!!!!

But like. I’m making good money now, I can actually do things like go to the freaking doctor when I’m sick and not completely bankrupt myself if I get hit by a truck or something. Oh, and my new job has PTO! How rad is that, I can get paid for taking vacations now? The only downside is my eyes are not taking the staring at a computer screen all day very well and ache ALL the time now. But hey! Things are looking up other than my eyes being stabbed out of my skull?!

2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year? Ugh I never remember what resolutions I actually made though! I mean, I know one of them was get a better job, which I did. I started smoking again for like two months and then quit again in November because holy shit I don’t need that in my life. I... briefly lost weight and then gained it all back because I stopped caring.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? Couple high school people, I think. One of my best friend’s from middle school had her second kid. Another friend from middle school is expecting a third next year. But nobody particularly close, no. 4. Did anyone close to you die? I don’t think so.

5. What countries did you visit? Alternatively, what is your favorite place that you did go this year? Ugh, no countries. Nick got to go to Germany for his job training but I had to stay here because y’know, money, and also, money. Didn’t have the big girl job at the time and he went to Germany the week before we were due to go to North Carolina and I’m sorry, but I can’t freaking afford two weeks off of work. Couldn’t? Eh, still probably can’t unless I work crazy overtime to obtain more PTO. 

That said, I had lots of fun on our annual trip down to North Carolina. Once again I got to read a lot of books in the pool, chill on the beach, and play dumb drinking games with people five years younger than me. We also had an added date night, which I think I’m going to require every year.

6. What would you like to have in 2019 that you lacked in 2018? Oh hey, I basically got everything that I wanted from last year. More steady job with insurance, apartment, not doing the college thing yet, but I’m going to have to think long and hard about how I want to proceed from here. This job opened up a LOT of opportunities for me, and I may pursue some of those instead of college. I just have to decide if that’s what I want.

Only thing that I didn’t get was, y’know, the ring thing. So here’s to hoping for next year? 

Also, ideally, we’re looking to buy a house sometime in either 2020 or 2021, so here’s to hoping we save up enough to make that happen.

7. What date from 2018 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? October 15th is when I started my new job. November 9th was when we moved out. Not many big events this year other than those. 8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Got new job! Got apartment! Read a metric crapton of books! Bought a nice couch that is all ours!

9. What was your biggest failure? Honestly? I’m not really sure. This year was kind of a good one. I’ve been very patient with Nick’s mom whenever we go on our weekly outing to one of the bars in our hometown and haven’t dropkicked her into the street whenever she gets too drunk. 10. Did you suffer illness or injury? Since moving out of the old house last month my weird allergy thing has improved wildly. We’re still using the sensitive skin detergent and I’m using very mildly scented soaps, but all in all the itching is so much less. I got really sick and missed Thanksgiving because I got some kind of stomach flu, and I think I had another stomach issue a few months back, but it’s been mostly mild. 11. What was the best thing you bought? I got new glasses at a vastly discounted rate because my vision insurance is apparently really good? We also bought a huge new sectional that is bigger, comfier, and LESS EXPENSIVE than all of the other couches we were looking at. I got Nick a sit/stand desk for Christmas and got upgraded to his old one by proxy. Got new books and a new painting for our living room. We also bought a new TV, because my old one was fucked and since we were moving out we didn’t have Seth’s to watch. 12. Whose behavior merited celebration? Mine. I was so good this year. 13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed? Eh. Nick’s mom drives me nuts, my mom drives me nuts, the roommates aren’t as bad now because we aren’t there, but it got a little spotty near the end there.

14. Where did most of your money go? Mostly things like bills, car payments, groceries, plane ticket to South Carolina to see my family, Christmas presents. While I got a reasonably good big girl job Nick got a reasonably good computer engineering job which means even if he is just a starting salary it’s still about 30k more than I make. Which just, blows my mind to say? Because I’m not making less than 15k a year now?  15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? I’m sorry that you have to hear it again, but new job! New apartment! New books and new things and hopefully a new chapter of our life. I’ve been trying to not get too psyched about things just in case the bottom drops out, but for now I’m letting myself enjoy this.

16. What song will always remind you of 2018? Paradise Valley. The Sailor Song. Daddy. Smallest Light. Lots of things off the Stranger Things soundtrack. 17. Compared to this time last year, are you: i. happier or sadder? Happier? Yeah, happier. ii. thinner or fatter? Little more, maybe? Again, lost a bunch but gained it back. iii. richer or poorer? Richer. With both of us having good jobs it’s so much easier to save. I dumped a little more than I should have into Christmas presents, but I’m still okay.  18. What do you wish you’d done more of? Write. I’ve been really bad about it, but I’m hoping that this year I’ll find my stride. 

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? Still pretty chill this year. Maybe gotten my head out of my ass and tried to get a good job earlier, but I can’t regret it too much. 20. How will you be spending Christmas? Spent Christmas Eve listening to Nick’s mom bitch about things and eating food that kind of turned my stomach. Spent Christmas Day at his mom’s in the morning and then his grandparents’ all afternoon. Only managed to squeeze a tiny amount of time for ourselves this year, but we had breakfast together and opened our presents. Hopefully next year we get Christmas Eve to ourselves again. 21. How will you be spending New Year’s Eve? So, last year we spent New Year’s cooking curry (him) and pirozki (me) and watching Planet Earth. I’m hoping to do something similar this year, but we might end up at his mom’s place getting trashed since we’re both off the next day. We’ll see. 22. Did you fall in love in 2018? Maybe a little more. 23. Best month for you this year? October? November? August? April-ish? Honestly most of my months this year were pretty okay. Like, I’m so sorry for all of you that had shitty years, but mine was so much better than basically anything from the past goddamn decade.

24. What was your favorite TV program? Of just 2018? Didn’t watch too much this year? Watched the second season of Westworld, Voltron, the Sense8 series finale, Killing Eve, Castlevania, The Haunting of Hill House, Bride of the Ancient Magus, Lost In Space... But honestly, most of them were good but not fantastic. I really liked the Sense8 finale and Hill House. Oooh, also, She-Ra. And Little Witch Academia! Those were good ones. 25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? Eh.

26. What was the best book you read? Spinning Silver was so good, guys. The Goblin Emperor, A Tale For the Time Being, the Queen’s Thief series, the Kingkiller Chronicle, and the Nightrunner series were highlights too. It was a real good year for books, okay. 27. What was your greatest musical discovery? Paradise Valley. Holy shit that song is the best. 28. What did you want and got? I got a lot of stuff I wanted this year. The job, the apartment, books, games. Nick got me a fucking switch for Christmas and this really pretty teardrop necklace made of green glass that’s just fucking gorgeous. And I got the glasses, the stupid tv, the better couch... ugh, we spent so much money this year, but I mean, it’s kind of about time that we had the money to splurge a little?

29. What did you want but didn’t get? A... ring? I mean, we’ve talked about it and we’ve both been moving steadily in this direction, but it didn’t happen this year. I foolishly made a bet with one of his brother’s friends while I was drunk. He thought that he’d propose before December of 2020, I thought he’d propose before the end of 2019, so now even if I’m right I’m wrong and I know he is going to give me shit about it.

Also. I think I might actively want kids now? Like, not in a nebulous eventually kind of way, but I think I might want to start trying? I don’t know. More on that next year. 30. What was your favorite film of this year? The Greatest Showman was really great. Other than that though, I didn’t watch that many. 31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? 29 went a lot like 28 and 27. Had lunch with Nick at the Lantern, and then lazed around until we went out to Old Bag of Nails with a few of our friends. It was nice. Nick got me knitting supplies because I mentioned a million years ago that I kind of wanted to learn so I could do something while listening to audiobooks.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? Hah! A better president and a ring is the only thing that I didn’t get from my wishes last year. 33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2018? Honestly until I started having to dress for an office job my personal fashion concept was PJs all the time except for when I had to go wait tables for a few hours. Now that I have the office job I’ve been wearing lots of sweaters, scarves, and skirts with tall boots when it’s not too cold for them. My bet is next year I’m going to give up and buy scrubs like everybody else in the nursing department. 34. What kept you sane? Reading was really, really great this year. - STILL leaving this answer 35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? Eh. Amber Heard was recently very pretty on my tumblr dashboard? 36. What political issue stirred you the most? FUCK DONALD TRUMP IN THE EAR 2015678. —– Ayyyyy, this was my response from last year, and apparently also the year before and the one before! Hello past me’s, don’t worry, it’s still getting worse. 37. Who did you miss? Nick, while he was in Germany and when I was in South Carolina. It was dumb. I wanted to smooch his forehead gently. 38. Who was the best new person you met? I have lots of new coworkers, but Bryan is my favorite. He’s pretty cool and I could see myself being good friends with him if he doesn’t fuck off to a different state. 

39. Talk about a new friend that you made this year: *Sherlock voice* I don’t have friends. ---- I’m just going to leave this here. 

40. Post a picture from the beginning of the year:

Took this one in... early March, but it’s technically the earliest photo I took of myself that wasn’t technically from December of 2017. I really miss the dark hair.

41. Post a picture from the end of the year:

This was taken a couple days ago when I got new glasses. I am 100% not naked, I’m wearing a tanktop.

42. A memorable meal discovered this year? Uh. I don’t know if I actually tried any new recipes this year? Most things that I cooked were repeat favorites from last year and Nick hasn’t cooked too terribly much either. The new jobs thing has been nice, but also we have SO MUCH LESS TIME.

43. What was your favorite memory this year? I don’t know. There have been a few of them. I had a night that was kind of shitty and empty, and ended up reading that Cornstalk Fiddle fic that I’ve talked about and it turned into one of my favorite memories. The vacation and moving was pretty nice.

44. What are you excited for next year? Still wanna try for that trip that’s just me and Nick, but I’ve got my little brother’s graduation to go to in May and the North Carolina trip in August, which basically wipes out my PTO for the year, but we’ll see. Maybe we can take a weekend trip somewhere nice.

Oh. Also, I’m freaking excited for KINGDOM HEARTS 3?!

45. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2018: Things can get better? Your life isn’t over if you don’t make it to college? Just. Things get better. We’ll go with that one. 46. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year: I’m singin’ in the rain Just singin’ in the rain What a glorious feeling I’m happy again

First Fandom of 2018: January seemed to be an ecclectic mixture of Star Wars, Harry Potter, Captive Prince, The Exorcist, and Teen Wolf before I settled into Stranger Things at the end of the month. Favorite Main Character of 2018: Ahhhh. Fuck, I don’t know. Ryan Dalias or Doug Eiffel, probably. Favorite Villain of 2018: Damien, from the Bright Sessions. He’s not... exactly a big bad, but he certainly isn’t good. Also, Billy Hargrove. Favorite M/F Couple of 2018: I actually read a lot of Jaime/Brienne this year because astolat started writing it and it was just really solidly good. Oh, Miryem and the Staryk Lord was also A++ Favorite F/F Couple of 2018: I did not read or write any, but let me tell you, I felt Isabelle Lovelace and Renee Minkowski on a fucking galactic scale. Favorite M/M Couple of 2018: Mark/Damien and Billy/Steve absolutely dominated all of my other fandoms this year. But also, Ryan/Akmazian hurts my entire heart. Fandom That You Never Expected To Get Into: The Bright Sessions? I did not expect to actually have feelings about these characters. Fandom That Made An Unexpected Comeback: Read some Harry Potter and Thor fic sporadically throughout the year. And Pacific Rim 2 hit my like a freight train. Fandom That Inspired The Most Crack: Uh. Stranger Things, I guess? Last Fandom of 2018: I mean, technically I’ve been reading more Harringrove because of the holiday exchange, but I’m still pretty hung up on Wolf 359 and the Bright Sessions. Unfortunately, neither of them really have fic? Favorite Fandom of 2018: I liked all of them, but Stranger Things and The Bright Sessions was so much of my year I’m gonna have to go with those two.

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

Navin Week Day 1: Thanksgiving

Pairing: Gavin Reed x Nic Blake

Summary: Nic goes on a trip down memory lane and brings Gavin with her

Word count: 2.2k+

From the moment they met, Gavin knew Nic didn’t get along with her family. He never met her parents, and didn’t push to unless she wanted him to. And from the start she made it clear that she was not in any way ashamed of him, but of her parents. When Nic moved to Detroit she only brought with her the memories she wanted, leaving behind practically her whole life. Sometimes Gavin felt guilty about this, and Nic would remind him she did it of her own free will. She hasn’t looked back since, so when she came to Gavin one afternoon and told him she wanted to visit her hometown for Thanksgiving, Gavin was taken by surprise. He loved his wife, he really did, but sometimes her ideas were questionable at best. But upon seeing the pleading look in her eyes, he agreed without question.

He took a week off from work since they’d be in Virginia Beach for a week. Nic seemed excited, she talked nearly nonstop on the flight about all of her old stomping grounds that she was going to take him to. The hotel they were staying at was right by the beach which Nic did purposely. By the time they landed she was practically vibrating in her seat. A taxi ride to the car rental office and they headed to unpack. It was much warmer than Gavin expected—he was only used to weather in Detroit. While it was still chilly, there was no snow which only slightly surprised him. By early November Detroit was normally covered in a thin layer of white but there was just a bitter cold that wrapped the city of Virginia.

Gavin noticed Nic’s driving was much better than it was in Detroit. He figured it had something to do with that she grew up on these streets and knew how native Virginians drove. The hotel was nice, Nic having booked them a room with a balcony that overlooked the beach (“We call it the Oceanfront, the Beach is the city. You’ll get used to the slang.” She explained as some point). It was only eleven in the morning so Nic eagerly requested that she drive him all the way to her favorite childhood bakery in the next city, Norfolk. It was at least an hour drive to said bakery, and upon arrival Nic was bouncing on her heels as she dragged him to the mud green, rusty exterior bakery with large words on the sign saying “The French Bakery”. His wife quickly explained how she had been going there since she was small and that she knew the owners almost personally. This reigned true as she opened the door, a small bell ringing and an older middle eastern gentleman coming from the back to greet the customers only to break out in a grin and calling Nic by an old name long forgotten. She smiled and once they reached the counter, she leaned over and hugged him as he exclaimed that it had been too long since her last visit. She introduced Gavin who was greeted just as warmly, however he felt out of place. Nic ordered two pastrami sandwiches along with a long list of desserts that Gavin knew would give them both stomach aches that night. In his opinion they spent too much money but the grin on his wife’s face made it worth it. As they drove back to their hotel, both eating their lunch and making a mess of the front seats, Nic went on to tell him how she was surprised to find the bakery still open and how she expected it be out of business. Gavin listened intensely, devouring his meal and coming to the conclusion that the expense was well spent.

They spent the afternoon unpacking and eating the desserts bought, and both went to bed with stomach aches. Nic said it was worth it.

The next morning Gavin woke up early and ordered room service, wanting to get an early start that day. Nic woke up at half past seven, and that was late in Nic’s opinion. She woke up to pancakes with blueberry syrup and a cup of coffee, and Gavin half soaked wearing nothing but a towel as he stepped out of the shower.

That day she took him to the golf course with a long winded story of how that exact golf course is where she had her seventh birthday party and she hadn’t played a game of golf since. Her inexperience showed as she lost the game, a score of 130 to Gavin’s 80. He still questioned how she managed to get such a high score on an 18 hole course. After the game they got lunch at one of the many restaurants that rested on the strip that was the Oceanfront. Many shops were closed, Nic telling him that they normally closed for the winter since there weren’t any tourists. Virginia was a tourist heavy spot during the summer, something Nic loathed in her youth. After lunch, Gavin was dragged to the many stores that stayed open. Some of them had useless souvenirs, others had neat collectibles or stones that seemed to interest Nic. She left Virginia at nineteen and coming back home after nearly a decade gave her a large wave of nostalgia. She wanted to show Gavin everything she enjoyed, although they only had a week which wasn’t enough time in her opinion.

That night, she dragged Gavin to her favorite barbecue restaurant. It was the best barbecue Gavin had in a while and he was disappointed that it’s so far away. He joked a bit that they’d have to fly down to Virginia again if he ever gets in the mood for barbecue. That night was the first time Gavin has also seen Nic so relaxed. She really seemed to be enjoying this trip on memory lane, focusing on all of the positives.

They went to bed that night in a pile of limbs as they cuddled, Gavin suggesting they come back again for her birthday.

The next few days were blurs as Nic dragged him to several different places, all of which held special places in her memory. At one point, Nic brought him to her old high school to visit her favorite World History teacher who happened to still be teaching at that school. They talked to the class, a mix of freshmen, sophomores, and juniors, with a lone senior. Some of students seemed to be fascinated with Nic, asking mostly questions about college and studying advice since she had been in their exact spot. She was disappointed when it was time to leave, but she managed to catch her old English teacher as well last minute as they were leaving campus. He told her about the Holiday Thrift Shop the school held every year about Thanksgiving. Nic insisted to Gavin they go before leaving for Detroit. They did go, buying some trinkets such as healing rings that Nic insisted on using for her wrists.

The second to last of their trip was Thanksgiving Day, and Nic has something special planned for them. She drove them out for two hours, not bothering to tell Gavin where they were headed. The moment Gavin notices the sign with the word “cemetery” in it, he had a good feeling what was going on. They parked in the loop, walked through the crunchy, frost covered grass down rows and rows of gravestones. They finally arrived at the gravestone with two familiar names and dates. Those names and dates were tattooed on Nic’s forearm.

With hands stuffed in her pockets, Nic spoke quietly. “Hey grandma, hey grandpa.” She smiled softly, and Gavin saw tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “I know it’s been a long time… too long, honestly. But I didn’t forget about you. I didn’t forget about where I came from. I just needed a chance to find me.” She shrugged, giving a teary smile to the grave. “I found her. I had to lose a lot of family on the journey but… I think it was worth it. Besides, they wouldn’t like who I am now anyways. I know you two would though. Yeah, you were always proud of me no matter what.” Nic looked over at Gavin and held out her hand to him. He took it, tangling their fingers together as he rubbed his thumb over her wedding ring. “I want y’all to meet someone.” Gavin almost laughed. Her accent had gotten stronger since being there. “This is my husband, Gavin. He’s really good to me, and I love him a lot. I know if given the chance, y’all would have loved him too.”

He cleared his throat, not wanting to intrude in the moment but feeling the need to speak. “I promise I’ll take care of her.” He brought her hand up and kissed it. “Always.”

On the way back from the cemetery, Nic stopped by a small family owned diner. She ate there every time she would visit her grandparents’ grave and got to know the family that owned it. It originally owned by a lovely old woman named Ruth, and her husband. They have children, and two of their daughters worked in the diner alongside their parents. After the passing of Ruth and her husband, their oldest daughter took over the diner along with her sister, now both sisters and their children ran it. To say the diner was family friendly was an understatement. Nic insisted that Gavin get the clam chowder, her favorite soup of all time. He enjoyed it a lot more than he expected.

That evening, they went to the gift shop on the boardwalk and got some fudge. Nic got it every time she went to the Oceanfront and stated that it was the last thing she ate before leaving Virginia. She got half a pound of her favorite dark chocolate caramel sea salt fudge. Gavin got a pound which gave him the option to pick four different flavors. He picked peanut butter, red velvet, chocolate pecan, and white chocolate. The fudge ended up being their dinner, once again giving the couple stomach aches to nurse for the night.

Their last day was more intimate. They spent a good portion of it in the hotel room, watching tv on the crappy hotel television and listening to the waves. Come afternoon, Nic went out to the beach to have a walk. She was barefoot and in shorts, walking in the shallow part of the ocean where the water barely reached her ankles. Gavin joined her after a few moments, not wanting her to experience this alone. Hand in hand, they walked the length of the beach and back in comfortable silence. The waves and the cawing of crows and hooting of pigeons filled their silence. They watched the sunset, night blanketing the earth and making the air too chilly for their liking. They went back inside the hotel, opting to take a nice warm shower to combat the cool air.

Gavin sat on the bed, flipping through channels with the remote in an effort to fight off the boredom gnawing at his mind as he waited for her to get out. God, he thought, she always takes the longest showers. When Nic finally did, pajamas on and hair still soaked despite ten minutes of drying it, she sat down in front of Gavin, smiling softly. He shut off the tv.

“Thank you for doing this,” she said, taking one of his hands in hers and playing with his scarred, calloused fingers.

“It’s no problem,” he replied. “I had a lot of fun.” There was a pause. “If you ever want to do this again, just let me know. I’ll take off and we can fly down, whether just for a day or a week, or a month…”

Nic snorted. “I cannot stay for a whole month. I would go insane. Virginia gets pretty boring after a while.”

“With the places you took me, hardly seems like there’s a dull moment.”

She pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Yeah well, I took you to the fun places.” Her smile dropped as fell into deep thought.

Gavin knew that look. “Uh oh. What’s wrong?”

“Just…” she sighed, going back to playing with his fingers, “thinking.”

“About what?”

“I’m not gonna lie, when I planned this trip… I wanted you to meet my parents.”

“Nico–”

“I decided against it on the flight here. I realized, I should focus on the things that make me happy, like you and fudge and buying stupid souvenirs that we are never going to look at again.” She laughed, and Gavin laughed with her. “The positive memories are what made me come back, the negative ones should stay in the past.”

“I know you tell me how happy I make you, and I don’t doubt you about it, but…” Gavin tried to think of the right words. He never was a words guy. Hell, Abby helped him with his vows. But Nic didn’t marry him for his words. He continued, “But this is the happiest I’ve seen you in a long time. Your smile? I haven’t seen that one since our wedding day. So, once I saw that smile that you only break out for the purest moments, I knew this would be good for you.”

Nic tackles him onto the bed, her chin resting on his chest. “You’re so sappy.”

“Only for you.”

“I know.” She grinned. “I love you.”

“I love you too, nerd.”

[idreamofhazeleyes]

Ties in Blood Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“Ms. Fisher,” the professor called out as Aaliyah’s ringer started up.

“Sorry, Mr. Greenwood.” Aaliyah rushed to her feet and out the classroom door as she struggled with the cell. Bracing herself against the wall, she flipped the phone open and pressed it against her ear without checking who was calling. “Hello?”

“Aaliyah? It’s Dean.”

She blinked a few times as her mind worked up a response. “I’m in the middle class. The professor’s not one to be lenient on having phones interrupt the class.” There was a pause long enough to have her think she said the wrong thing. “Dean, what’s up? I’m sure it’s not like hunters call an average college student out of the blue like this.”

“Your voicemail.” Two words and the message Aaliyah left a month ago flooded back. “You said something about missing people.”

Aaliyah glanced down as she scuffed the ball of her shoe against the tile floor. “One for sure. My dad went missing a few years ago, and the locals gave up after a few months of searching. I swear it was something … else. My brother had been at college … I think. He hasn’t called in a year, so he might be busy…”

“Aaliyah,” Dean cut in.

“Sorry. It’s okay if you can’t …” She started to pull the phone away from her ear.

“Where was the last place your father was seen?”

“You’d look for him? Really?” Aaliyah held onto that little glimmer of hope she had held onto for years.

“Now, I can’t promise he’d be found alive,” Dean told her. “Where was he last?”

Aaliyah glanced around the hallway in her attempt of thinking back the past few years. “Work; pretty sure. Or on his way home. He was never one for extra stuff due to long work hours.” She trailed off as a recent memory of her watching her father walk into the house after a long work shift and straight to his bedroom. “Hey, we’re getting a break for Thanksgiving. I could come back …”

“No.” It sounded harsh coming from Dean. “Stay there and … study or something.”

“This is my father we’re talking about, Dean,” Aaliyah half yelled. “And my brother. I want to help.” She listened to his breathing on the other end and wondered if he would relent.

“If you can be in your hometown Thanksgiving Day, you can help,” Dean put up. “Gotta go.”

A light thump on the other end and Aaliyah pulled her phone from her head. Easing it closed, she startled when the classroom door opened and her class streamed from the room. Waiting until most of the students had left the room, Sara ducked in and up where her belongings were still sprawled out.

“Ms. Fisher,” Mr. Smith spoke up. “If you have your phone on in the next class…”

“It won’t happen again, sir,” Aaliyah cut in as she put her things in her bag. “Promise.” She shouldered her bag as she moved to leave the room. Her mind raced with all the things she needed to do to make it back home in two days.

***

Aaliyah adjusted her shower items in the suitcase and stepped back. A voice in the back of her mind was telling her that something was missing. A few pairs of jeans, check. A variety of shirts from tees to passable for a nice dinner out, check. Tennis shoes were by the dorm door. A couple pairs of shoes to match the two nice outfits were in the suitcase. She wasn’t expecting to be invited some place that would require the nice stuff packed away, yet there was that sense of wanting to be prepared for that occasion.

“Taking a trip somewhere?” Amanda asked, closing the dorm door behind her.

“Sorta. I may have gotten some help trying to find my father.” Aaliyah turned from her bed and joined Amanda at hers. “Then maybe my brother.”

“You honestly think you’re gonna find them both alive after all this time?” Amanda put her text books away.

“The cops didn’t find anything after my father disappeared. Sure, the car was on the side of the road, but no body. Nothing like that.” Aaliyah ran a finger along Amanda’s dresser and stopped at a picture that showed the two of them at a home football game. “I … They’re family, Amanda. Call it crazy, but there’s some part of me that wants to know what happened to them.”

Amanda turned from her stack of books and met Aaliyah’s eyes. “Then I’ll go with you.”

“You don’t have to. ‘Sides, you’ve got a better chance of graduating and getting a nursing job than I am.”

“When are you supposed to be meeting this help of yours?” Amanda half dove into her side of the closet and pulled out her suitcase.

“Two days. What are you doing? Put that back, you’re not…”

“Letting you go alone.”

Aaliyah watched Amanda pull out denim jeans, tee shirts, and a few jackets that looked like they’ve seen better days. Next went in an outfit or two that would pass for nice. “Don’t throw away your life because I’m going on a wild goose chase.”

“I’m not.” Amanda tossed in a few pairs of shoes then zipped the suitcase. “Besides, you need a vehicle to get wherever you’re going in two days.”

Aaliyah shifted as Amanda started for the door. There was something about Amanda that screamed skeletons in the closet. Aaliyah had asked about her roommate when they first met, but Amanda deflected with something else. Something told Aaliyah as she rushed to put her shoes on and grabbed her own suitcase that she may learn more than she wanted about her roommate.

***

Aaliyah scanned the shelves that held a variety of snack foods. Five hours out from the university she convinced Amanda to pull off and to a gas station. The little voice in the back of Aaliyah’s mind had told her that Amanda agreed only because they needed to fill the tank. Unable to decide on what snacks to get, Aaliyah grabbed the few she had been eyeing and started for the counter. The door chimed sounded as a man staggered in and made his way over to the coolers. Aaliyah’s inner voice screamed to drop the snacks and all but run out to the car where Amanda was waiting and leave. Forcing herself toward the counter, Aaliyah set the snacks down and started to fish out what money she had as the clerk started ringing her selections.

The light tapping of the man’s shoes came up a few steps behind Aaliyah as the clerk finished ringing up her choices. He was back far enough not to crowd, but the feeling he was too close had more of Aaliyah’s alarms go off. Handing over the money, she anchored her feet to the floor. The clerk accepted the money and dealt with the register. Behind Aaliyah was a small sniff. She turned her head just enough to see the other customer leaning over her shoulder sniffing at it.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “It’s a bad habit I’ve been trying to break.”

Aaliyah shifted her shoulders as she accepted her change and the bag of snacks. She stepped away from the counter and half expected the other customer to step up. When something grabbed her arm, Aaliyah jerked away. When the grip got tighter, she looked up to the other customer and screamed. What looked back were not normal eyes, but all black. The bag of snacks fell from her free hand as she swung it around to hit the man.

“Not so fast,” the customer … No, Aaliyah’s mind told her. It’s whatever causing the black eyes. “You’re going to …”

A loud blast echoed in the building. Aaliyah’s body froze in place at the sound. Her mind worked her body out of the state as the body of the other customer started to slump to the floor. Aaliyah freed her hand and stumbled back away from the body, kicking the snack bag as she did. She stopped once she hit a display rack and the shooter ambled in over to where the body had dropped. A handful of seconds passed before Aaliyah’s mind recognized the new person as Amanda.

“What’s your deal, demon?” Amanda demanded as she grabbed the man’s shirt at the collar and pulled him up to her.

“There’s been a hit put on that one,” the man pointed at Aaliyah. “What demon do you know wouldn’t take the chance?”

“What hit?” Amanda shook the man. “What hit!” She pulled her free hand back in a fist.

“Go ahead and hit,” the demon taunted. “It’ll hurt him more.”

Aaliyah tilted her head. Her adrenaline from fighting off the man had ebbed away just to be replaced by sheer confusion. She eased herself away from the display rack and over to where Amanda and the man were sprawled on the floor. His eyes jumped from Amanda to Aaliyah as she took one step too close.

“Word to the wise,” the demon spoke. “Do not go digging up what should have been left buried.” A cloud of black smoke bellowed out from the man, startling Aaliyah back.

“Wha…What was that?” she managed to ask after regaining her voice.

Amanda eased to her feet, something in the hand that had been a fist. “A demon, low level probably.” She gathered up the snacks and the bag before heading for the door.

Aaliyah blinked a few times as her gaze fell on the dead man. Her mind kickstarted her into moving after Amanda. “Low level demon? What do you know of demons? They don’t exist.”

“Oh, and that werewolf that scarred you up didn’t exist?” Amanda countered as she opened the car’s driver door and slid in.

Aaliyah stopped when Amanda countered with the werewolf. The wounds were definitely real and the scars on her side pulled when she twisted in such a way. Aaliyah got into the car as it started up and struggled with the seatbelt. “But … Demons. Like Exorcist type shit?”

“Rarer than what just happened back at the station.” Amanda merged out onto the street and for the highway. “That was my … second time coming across a demon.”

“Second time? Wait, how did you know how to deal with it?” Aaliyah shifted around in her seat to look at Amanda. “Things aren’t adding up here.”

“I’ll tell you when it’s safe.”

“When it’s safe? That thing is still out there.” Aaliyah reached for her door handle as she unbuckled. “Stop the car, let me out.”

“Aaliyah, please.”

Aaliyah stopped in her struggle and looked over to Amanda. In the low light she thought Amanda had the expression she was mentally debating on telling Aaliyah the one thing she didn’t want to.

“You want to know how I knew to handle the demon?” Amanda asked after a few silence moments. “And why I didn’t get involved with your fight with the werewolf?” She took a deep breath and released it slowly. “My family are hunters.”

“A lot of families are hunters,” Aaliyah countered.

Amanda shook her head. “Not out hunting animals. More hunters of the supernatural.”

Aaliyah chuckled. “Yeah, the supernatural. Okay, and my mother was a fairy and my father was a genie.”

“I knew telling you was a bad idea. This whole trip was a bad idea from the start.” Amanda pulled over to the side of the highway. “I don’t want to see you get hurt again, Aaliyah. You were – are – the one person that didn’t judge me on my family or what we’ve done. I felt like a new person.”

Aaliyah bit back the comment that threatened to emerge. Amanda hadn’t been really forthcoming with her life before college when they met, so Aaliyah couldn’t judge her roommate on family. “I’m sorry for dragging …”

Amanda tossed up a finger, silencing Aaliyah before she could finish. “You didn’t drag me on this, I wanted to come. I …” The finger went down. “I just thought that I could do this without getting drawn back into hunting.”

Aaliyah looked down to her hands, unsure of what to say to comfort Amanda. Aaliyah had started off with the hope of finding what happened to her father and brother for some sort of closure and here Amanda was trying to run from her past. “You don’t have to do this.”

“What sort of friend would I be if I let you go off on your own without any sort of help.” Amanda turned to look at Aaliyah. “Besides, I kinda want to see the guy who brought you to the dorm again.”

Aaliyah half swore she saw a smile on Amanda’s face and smiled. Maybe this trip would be better for the both of them. 

[justsomebucky]

Thankful

Summary: AU. Reader is used to living on her own terms, so when she’s suddenly jammed back in with her family for Thanksgiving, things get a little crazy. Will a stranger she met at the bar be the perfect one to help her through the holiday?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Word Count: 4,931

Warnings: language, drinking, creeper at a bar being a creeper, the creeper hits on reader so if that makes you uncomfortable avoid, fighting, fake dating, fluff, awkwardness, family arguments, things get steamy, no smut

A/N: This is a re-post of a fic I attempted for a holiday challenge back in 2016. It was posted in three parts on a different blog, but I smushed them together here. Sorry for the bad writing lol.

Thanksgiving Day was a mess.

It was just like last year, and the year before, and the year before…

Every year your parents asked you to come home, and every year you tried to say no (and ended up giving in). That’s why this year you were back in your hometown once again.

Nothing was out of the ordinary so far, but you were tense and waiting for something to go wrong. Your little sister was nagging you about anything and everything she could. Your mother was asking about your work, while your father wanted to know if you were seeing anyone, and if you were, why weren’t they willing to come home and have a nice chat with him?

So, yeah…Thanksgiving Day was a mess.

It’s not that you didn’t love your family. You loved them a lot, but you were so used to doing your own thing, that life in the same house felt too cramped now.

“Mom, Y/N isn’t listening to me!”

“Listen to your sister, dear,” your mom called from the kitchen, where her and your father were cooking. You were in the living room playing cards with your sister and trying your hardest to not punch her.

Your eyes flitted up to hers over your hand of cards. “What?”

“What?” she parroted back gleefully.

“I asked you first.” You could feel the beginning of a headache starting.

“I asked you first.”

Instead of raising your voice to tell your little sister to shut her face like you really wanted to do, you merely smiled at her. “Go fish.”

”You’re a fish!”

“Sweetie, be nice!”

“But she’s stupid!”

“All right.” You put your cards back into the center pile and stood up. “I’m sorry, guys, I tried. I need to get out of here.”

Your sister gasped like you’d just told her the world was ending. “But we weren’t finished with the game!”

“I’m finished. I will be home in a bit.” You threw on a hoodie and grabbed your purse and keys.

“It’ll only be about another hour, sweetie,” your mom told you as you walked through the room.

“You could at least stay and help your mother and me,” your father chided.

That was the last thing you heard before you shut the door behind you.

You knew it was rude and that you should be contributing, but if you didn’t get out of there soon you were gonna lose it, and you really didn’t want to end up in jail on a holiday.

It was the only bar open in at least ten miles, and it was shady as hell.

There was thick cigar smoke billowing through the air. A pool table sat in the corner, where two leather-clad muscle bros were pushing each other back and forth, arguing over who would buy the next round of beer.

The good news? You weren’t the only woman.

The bad news? You might as well have been, the way everyone turned to leer at you when you walked in. You were wearing jeans and a Yankees t-shirt under the zipped hoodie you had on, so it’s not like you were enticing them outright.

You took a deep breath and made your way over to a barstool away from other people.

“What’re you havin’?” A pretty young girl came over to you with a smile, her hands on her hips expectantly.

“Hey Wanda, I was here first!” You couldn’t see who had said it, but he didn’t sound happy.

She whirled around. “Give me a minute, asshole! Fresh blood here!” Wanda turned back to you, her sweet smile back on her face. “Decide yet?”

“I’ll have a Jack and Coke,” you said boldly. That wasn’t your normal drink of choice, but it seemed fitting for the dive bar atmosphere.

“Comin’ right up,” she said, winking at you. “Don’t worry, these boys don’t bite.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, glancing around you. “Hopefully not.”

The other patrons of the bar didn’t really surprise you. There was a middle-aged woman with a low-cut top sitting next to a heavy-set bearded man who was definitely enjoying the view. To their right, two frat boys who probably didn’t go home for break were doing shots.

In the corner opposite of you, there was a man with long brown hair tucked under a baseball cap, which was pulled low over his eyes. He was leaning against the bar top and staring down at the whiskey in front of him.

As if he heard your thoughts, he looked up at you, and you glanced away quickly. His eyes were bright blue with a hint of grey, like a storm approaching the ocean. They were beautiful even in the dim light.

Wanda came back with your drink, and you thanked her with a smile. You took a generous sip, knowing that it couldn’t fix your issues but it might calm you down.

Your family was making you pretty damn anxious, after all.

A hand on your shoulder made your back stiffen. You could smell him before you saw him, a combination of cigar and body odor. When you turned your head to look, you cringed.  

“Hey, darlin’.” One of the big biker dudes from the pool table fight had meandered over to you and was now trying to hit on you. Why, oh why had you come here alone? What were you thinking?

“Not interested,” you replied automatically. Maybe you should invest in a fake engagement ring to make sure people knew you were taken. You weren’t, but they didn’t need to know that.

“You don’t even know me,” he drawled in your ear. “Come on, give me a chance.”

A wave of fear went through you. He was bigger than you, and the exit was behind him. “Please leave me alone, I didn’t come here to hook up.”

“No, but you might come here anyways, catch my drift?” His hand moved down your shoulder and you felt him try to tug on the zipper of your hoodie. “What’s underneath here?”

Now you were really freaked out. You jerked away from him. “Listen-“

“She said she wasn’t interested!” One good punch sent the man flying into the dart board on the wall. It came crashing down right on the guy’s face.

You turned to see the man with the baseball cap as he glared at the fallen creeper. He looked over at Wanda apologetically. “Sorry for the disruption.”

“No worries, Bucky. That guy’s a jackass anyhow.” Wanda frowned. “Better get her out of here before he comes to, though.”

Your eyes volleyed between the two in confusion. “Why?”

“Because he’s gonna try harder next time,” Bucky replied, motioning for you to get up. “I can make sure you get home okay.”

“I have my car here,” you told him. “I can’t leave it.”

He ran a hand down his face. “All right. But I’m following you home.”

Your mouth opened and closed a few times to try to find the right words to protest. This guy? Coming home with you?

“Stranger danger,” was all you could manage to say.

To your surprise, Bucky started chuckling. He had perfect white teeth, and these little crinkles around his eyes that made him even more handsome when he smiled.  

“My name’s Bucky Barnes.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. See? Now we’re not strangers, and I promise I’ll lose your address,” he said. “So come on, before idiot here decides that he’s going to wake up and knock the both of us out.”

The thought of that guy even looking at you again was enough motivation to trust Bucky.

“Fine.” You stood up, tossing some bills down on the bar for Wanda. “Let’s go.”

When you pulled your car back into the driveway and cut the engine, you saw Bucky park his motorcycle along the curb. You got out and shut the car door quietly, then walked down to where he sat waiting.

“Thank you for punching that creeper,” you told him. “And thank you for making sure I made it home okay.”

“It’s not a problem,” Bucky replied. “My mom taught me to be a gentleman, and that guy was definitely crossing all sorts of lines.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Why, if you live here, were you all the way out there in a dive bar…by yourself…on Thanksgiving?”

You bit your lip. “My family drives me crazy. I normally live in the city by myself, and it’s just hard being back here, all smushed together in one house again.”

His eyes narrow a little. “So you put yourself in danger because you’re sick of spending quality time with your family?”

Now that he said it like that, you felt like an asshole. “Look, I know it must sound stupid to you, but they are always asking about my life and-”

Your voice trailed off when a brilliant idea struck. There was one surefire way to get your parents off your back.

“And?” Bucky stared at you in confusion. “You were saying?”

“How old are you?”

“Why?”

“Just curious.”

When he told you his age, you could hardly believe your luck. “And you’re single?”

“Yup. Why?”

“Why were you alone in a bar like that on Thanksgiving?”

He shrugged, looking down the road then back to you. His gaze wandered over your features for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “No family. I don’t usually go to seedy bars, but it was the only one open.”

You could understand that. It’s basically why you ended up there.

“No friends?”

Bucky smiled ruefully. “My best friend, Steve, invited me over, but…he’s got a wife, a couple kids, and some in-laws to worry about. I didn’t want to add to the list.”

Alone, single, considerate…this could work.

“Want to come in and give my family a little shock?”

“Uh…” He paused, scratching his head under the ball cap. “What?”

Your mouth quirked up. “You’ll get free food if you come in here and pretend to be my boyfriend for one night. What do you say?”

“You want to use me to make your family crazy? Didn’t you say they were already crazy?” Bucky eyed you incredulously. “They won’t have me arrested, right? Your dad isn’t gonna punch me?”

You burst out laughing. “Bucky, you knocked out a guy who was at least 250 pounds. I think you’ll be fine.”

His eyes looked past you to the door. “Looks like we’re busted anyways.”

“Y/N? What’s going on?” your mother’s worried voice carried over the yard to your ears.

“Nothing, Mom,” you replied quickly. “It’s just-“

Time to go for it. You motioned for Bucky to get off the motorcycle and he did, moving to stand beside you. He gave a little grunt when your fingers laced with his.

“My boyfriend’s finally here!”

If you could have captured your mother’s expression in a photo when you introduced Bucky as your boyfriend, you’d have sent it as your Christmas card.

Her shock and your father’s reaction were going to get you through this Thanksgiving.

You led Bucky by the hand straight up the front walk to where your mother stood. Your little sister was peeking around her, trying to get a good look at this stranger you’d just brought home.

“Mom, this is-”

“James Barnes, ma’am, but everyone calls me Bucky,” he interrupted. Suddenly your fake boyfriend was a smooth gentleman, taking your mother’s hand in his and giving it a peck. “And who is that princess behind you?”

Your sister giggled, hiding her face. “I’m not a princess!”

“You are to me,” he said with a smile. “Ma’am, if it’s all right with you, Y/N here has invited me to dinner because I had no plans of my own. I don’t mean to intrude.”

“No, please come in,” your mother said, forcing a smile. “You’re welcome to join us, it’s just that Y/N never told us about you.”

“Well I hope I can rectify that.” Bucky looked at you and you shrugged. You had no idea how far this was going to go, you just wanted someone to save you from your family.

“Who is that, dear?” your father’s voice boomed from the dining room.

“It’s Y/N, and she’s brought her boyfriend this time!”

“Boyfriend?”

This time Bucky turned to you with what could only be considered true fear in his eyes. You gave him a wink to let him know it was okay.

The two of you followed your mom and sister into the dining room, where a Thanksgiving feast was now laid out for the taking.

“Here, Bucky dear, sit here, and I’ll set another place.”

His face was calm, you had to give him credit for that. Your mom had put him right beside your father, who was sitting at the head of the table with a large carving knife as he prepared to slice the turkey. You took your place next to Bucky and sat down.

“So, son, tell me about yourself and why you’re putting your hands all over my daughter,” your dad said, tapping the knife against the turkey.

Bucky’s mouth opened and closed twice before you decided to step in.  

You were sure that was a scare tactic, which was interesting because he’d never done that to guys you brought home before.

“Dad! Can we please not embarrass him on his first time here?”

Bucky finally reacted, offering you a small smile. “It’s fine, Doll.” He turned back to your father. “Well, sir, I can honestly say that Y/N is one of the most…intriguing people I’ve ever met. She’s pretty no-nonsense about life, which is refreshing.”

“And what about you?” he asked Bucky, scrutinizing him.

“Bucky is smart and capable,” you blurted out. You weren’t even sure where that came from, but all the sudden you really wanted your dad to like him.

Both men turned their eyes to you.

You took that as a sign to continue. “He’s strong, and he’s got a great sense of right and wrong. He’d stand up for me and protect me if it came down to it.” You weren’t lying, since that had actually already happened back at the bar.

Your father studied your face for a second before a big grin broke out. “Well, then, Borky, I guess you’re all right for my little girl.”

“It’s, uh, Bucky, sir.”

“That’s what I said!”

Dinner was a crazy success. It was crazy because you and Bucky had actually pulled off this ruse fairly easily. You found him to be utterly charming. About halfway through the dinner, he started smiling at you for no reason, and each time he did, your heart would flutter a little.

It’s all pretend, you had to remind yourself, as you helped your mom with the dishes. Bucky had wandered into the family room to watch some football game on TV with your father. Your little sister was sitting next to him, giggling at him and grinning a lot.

It seemed your whole family was already smitten with Bucky Barnes.

It’s too bad that come tomorrow, he’ll be gone, you thought mournfully.

“Something got you down, Y/N?”

You looked up at your mom with a sad smile. “No, just tired.”

“Ah, well, why don’t you go up and get ready for bed. We’re almost done here anyways.”

“Thank you.” You gave her a grateful look, turning to go up the stairs.

“Oh and Y/N, since you and Bucky aren’t engaged, he has to sleep on the couch!”

You stopped halfway up the stairs. “Uh, we didn’t talk about him staying here tonight, Mom.”

“Nonsense,” she said, waving her hands in the air. “Bucky, come here a moment!”

“Yes, Mrs. Y/L/N?” Bucky appeared at the bottom of the stairs, glancing up at you in question before turning back to your mother.

“Y/N is going to go to bed, and she seems to be under the impression that you aren’t staying tonight. It’s so late, I can’t imagine you heading out on your own now, especially on a motorcycle. I’ll make the couch up for you.”

“Oh no, ma’am, that really won’t be necessary, I-“

“Good then, that’s settled.” She ended the conversation with a sharp clap.

Bucky looked back at you helplessly, and you mouthed I’m sorry.

It was well after one in the morning and your whole family was asleep by now, so you tiptoed downstairs to tell Bucky he didn’t really have to stay if he didn’t want to.

After your shower earlier, you had changed into comfy pajamas (ones that had tiny cats all over them) and wandered back downstairs to find Bucky playing cards with the rest of your family. They were teaching your little sister how to play Texas Hold ‘Em, and she had apparently done really well.

You had sat beside Bucky with a smirk, watching as he and your father faced off for the final hand. His cards were decent; he had three of a kind. But like the gentleman he is, when your father laid down his hand with two pairs, Bucky folded, and your father gleefully took the pot.

He told you after that he didn’t want your father to dislike him, which struck you as kind of strange since he barely knew you, but you’d been too tired to question it.

Just when you really wanted to get some rest, your brain decided to work overtime, throwing ideas at you that you’d never considered before. Maybe he liked you and that’s why he wanted to stick around. Maybe he wanted to impress your father so he can come back. Maybe…

So there you were, treading as lightly as possible downstairs to the couch, where Bucky was laying under a quilt with his arm thrown over his eyes.

“Bucky,” you called out. “Are you sleeping?”

You saw his mouth curl into a grin. “If I was, your loud mouth would surely have woken me up anyways.”

“Ha-ha.”

He brought his arm down and opened his eyes to look at you. “What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?”

“Not really,” you admitted. “I’m a little anxious, so I came to check on you. You don’t really have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“Won’t that look a little weird come morning?” The corner of his mouth quirked up again. “I’m fine here. I appreciate the company, to be honest. I’d have just been home by myself tonight.”

“Okay.”

After a few beats of comfortable silence, he sat up and lifted his blanket, silently inviting you to sit beside him.

Your stomach did the fluttery thing this time instead of your heart. Nerves around a stranger, you decided, as you moved to sit beside him, tucking the blanket over your legs.

“Thanks for inviting me, even if it was all to trick your family,” Bucky murmured, his eyes roaming your face.

“You’re welcome,” you replied quietly. “It’s been…interesting.”

“Yes, it has,” he agreed. He ran a hand through his long hair, smoothing it back from his face, and you couldn’t help but stare at his strong jawline.

There was that damn flutter again.

Bucky’s brow lifted a little. “What’s on your mind, Doll?”

Now, this could go one of two ways.

You could lie and say stress from work or whatever. Or, you could let him know the truth.

“You,” you whispered, choosing the latter.

His eyes widened in surprise. “Me?”

You nodded, your gaze dropping to his lips for a moment. You wondered if they’d be soft, and you needed to find out.

This was crazy, but you were always game for a little unconventionality.

You leaned over and pressed your lips to his gently.

Bucky didn’t react at first. In fact, it took so long you’d almost pulled away out of sheer mortification, before you felt his gentle touch on your neck as he began to kiss you back.

Yes, his lips were definitely soft.

You shifted closer until you were straddling his lap, never letting the kiss break. His hands moved down to your hips to hold you steady.  

The kisses between you became needier, more desperate, and your hands touched his hair, his neck, his chest, anything you could grab a hold of. His hands slipped down to your backside and gave a gentle squeeze, causing you to whimper into his mouth.

“Ah,” he panted, pulling back to rest his forehead against yours. “We can’t- what if someone catches us, your parents-“

You sat there on his lap for a moment, trying to catch your breath and come up with a plan. You were good at plans, right? Surely you could handle this.

When you moved off his lap, he protested with a groan. “Y/N, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”

“Don’t just sit there,” you said over your shoulder as you made your way back up the stairs. “Come on, already!”

Bucky’s eyes widened as he got your meaning. He moved fast and suddenly he was behind you, urging you to go faster while you tried not to giggle too loud.

The second your bedroom door closed, Bucky pinned you against it and placed searing open-mouthed kisses along your neck.

“I don’t usually do this,” he murmured against your skin.

“Could have fooled me,” you replied, arching your body against his to feel more – more him, more friction, anything. He nipped at your skin in response. “You seem to have all the right moves down.”

“We don’t even know each other.” This time he pulled back to look at you, his blue-grey eyes stormy with hesitation. “I don’t think I can do this with your parents down the hall.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What are you, an inexperienced teenager?”

He ran a hand down his face. “No, I just…”

“Is it me?” you asked softly, looking away. “I know I’m probably not as hot as you’re used to-“

“Stop,” he said sharply, his hand lifting your chin gently so you’d look at him. “You’re beautiful. You’re sexy and gorgeous, and god, I want you, I just-“

“Just what?” you whispered, afraid of the answer.

This was the part where the men realized you had feelings and bailed on you. It had happened time and time again; that’s why your family had been so surprised to see you with a boyfriend. You’d sworn them off over the summer after you discovered your last boyfriend, Drew, had not one, but two side chicks.

Yeah, you were used to this rejection.

Bucky’s eyes softened. The way he was looking at you…it kind of gave you some hope.

“I don’t want to ruin this,” he said finally. “It’s been so long since I felt anything for a woman, and I know we just met…but I just…” He paused, then shook his head. “This is fast. I don’t want to rush things and ruin it.”

Your eyes searched his for any hint of lie. “Bucky, if you need an out, you can just tell me, you know that right? I don’t want you to think I brought you here for this.”

He shook his head. “It’s not an out. For fuck’s sake, why can’t I just…” He moved away from you, running a frustrated hand through his long hair. “It’s been so long, I don’t even know how to talk to a woman anymore.”

You reached up and placed a hand on his shoulder, frowning when he flinched. “It’s okay, Bucky, I promise.”

“No,” he disagreed, looking up at you then, eyes intense. “It isn’t. I’m so out of touch that I made a beautiful woman think herself undesirable. God, Y/N, if you could feel what you do to me, how you made me feel after one evening, you’d never question yourself again.”

“We don’t even know each other,” you echoed his words from earlier.

“I want to change that.” He grabbed your hand from his shoulder and grasped tightly. “I’m not a one night stand kind of guy. I want you – want this – but I need to do it the right way. Is that okay?”

You nearly laughed out loud, but didn’t want to make him think you were laughing at him. “You certainly have a way with words, Bucky Barnes.”

His mouth quirked up a little, his eyes showing a new tiredness. “So, does that mean you are willing to give us a real shot? Let me take you on a date, maybe woo you a little?”

You reached out a hand and gently caressed his cheekbone before brushing the hair back from his face. “I think I’d like that, actually. I’d like that a lot.”

Bucky breathed a sigh of relief. “I should go back down to the couch before anyone gets suspicious.”

The parting kiss he gave you was one for the record books, in your opinion. Your toes literally curled against the carpeted floor as he pressed his mouth to yours tenderly. He held you as if you were something precious.

For a man you’d just met, he was already treating you like you were something worth holding on to.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he breathed against your lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Bucky. See you tomorrow.”

The next morning, you made sure that you were showered and dressed early, with your hair and makeup done. You felt a little silly since Bucky had seen you without all of it already (hell, he’d seen you in your cat pajamas), but you didn’t want to risk him changing his mind in the morning light.

You practically ran down the stairs, only to find the quilt neatly folded, not a trace of Bucky to be found. A quick peek out the window told you his motorcycle was gone, too.

Your heart sank. Had he really gone, even after all his sweet words last night?

None of this made any sense. This wasn’t normal…who gets this attached to someone overnight? It was just meant to be a one-time thing. He was just a means to survive Thanksgiving with your family.

You were naïve if you thought that somehow this man would turn into anything more than that. You didn’t even know him. He had no reason to stick around, and you had no right to expect anything from him…

Why were you always such a goddamn romantic?

You wiped furiously at the traitorous tears that stung your eyes. If he could see you now, he’d probably laugh. Your ex-boyfriend Drew would probably have given him a high-five for this.

That’s it, you were swearing off rom-coms for good. No more romantic movies, no more unobtainable goals, no more longing for love. You were done.

Screw it.

With a deep breath, you turned and marched into the hallway, grabbing your jacket, bag and keys. It was time to go back home; you couldn’t stand another second around this house.

“Mom, Dad, I’m going back to the city now,” you yelled, hoping that they would hear you and just yell back so you wouldn’t have to say goodbye again.

You hated goodbyes.

Then again, no one responded to you. There wasn’t a sound in the house.

You frowned, turning to glance around. “Mom? Dad?”

“You were going to leave without saying goodbye? I thought we had something going here.”

You whirled around and came face-to-face with Bucky. “I- I thought you left already? Your motorcycle…?”

The corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. “Your dad made me park it in the garage. He said the neighbors were eyeing it. Frankly, I think he just wanted to have a look at it himself.” Bucky took a few steps closer to you. “You really thought that I would ever leave without telling you?”

“I’m used to being left,” you admitted softly, glancing away. You didn’t want him to see any trace of how upset you’d gotten.

“Doll, I know we don’t know each other very well, but I’m a man of my word.”

When you met his gaze again, he took a few steps closer until he was standing right in front of you.

He shook his head once. “I’m not running…are you?”

“No,” you whispered, completely captivated by the tender look in his eyes.

“Good.”

His smile was so bright, so genuine, that you grabbed him into a tight hug, burying your face in his neck.

“I’m sorry,” you said in a muffled voice. “I’m not usually like this.”

Bucky laughed, his arms encircling you. “That makes two of us, Doll.”

You lifted your face up to look at him, and were rewarded with a chaste kiss.

“There you two are, we’ve been waiting out front for you! Let’s go, before your father eats his steering wheel! Never get between him and his breakfast.” Your mom stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips expectantly.

Almost sheepishly, you unwound yourself from his arms. “What are you talking about?”

Bucky kissed your temple. “Your mom invited me to come to breakfast with your family. Apparently there’s a diner they want to show me in town.”

“Best breakfast in the area,” your mom declared, clapping her hands. “Now let’s move. I don’t want to explain to the Honda repair shop why there are chunks missing from the car.”

You smiled warmly at Bucky. “Having breakfast with my family now, eh?”

He grinned back at you. “Gotta make a good impression somehow, Doll.” He reached for your hand and intertwined your fingers, then pulled you along to follow your mom to the car.

“I don’t wanna seem anything less than thankful for you, after all.”

Happy Thanksgiving to all my American readers! May you survive the holidays with your sanity in tact and your bellies full.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #473

“please don’t make any sudden moves  /  you don’t know the half of the abuse”

Who are the 3 people you love the most? My mom, Sara, and Girt. Last person you slept in the same bed with? Sara. When is the last time you took a picture of yourself? It's been quite a long time. When was your first kiss? March of 2012. Have you recently been sick? No. Don't jinx it, especially these days. What song are you listening to? A slowed down version of "Heathens" by twenty one pilots. I REALLY like it. Do you drink soda often? Every day. :x Would you ever move somewhere like Hawaii? NOOOOOOO. I would NEVER survive living in the tropics. Have you ever had to call 911? Why? Twice for my mom. Once we thought she was having a heart attack, and the second time she had such bad abdominal pain that she was almost entirely immobilized. It was that day we found out about the cancer. Do you get out a lot? God no. Name 3 things you really like about yourself (not physical). I have a lot of empathy, I love and care a lot about animals, and I care a lot about what other people feel and always wanna make people feel better. Name 3 things you hate about yourself (not physical). My anxiety is #1, then there's how lazy I can be, and how I jump to conclusions. Would you ever consider having an abortion? If I was raped, it was ectopic (that barely even counts as one, though...), or it greatly endangered my life, yes. In which state/country were you born? North Carolina, U.S.A. Have you ever had to be put on medicine for a mental disorder? Yeah, quite a lot... I've gone through probably around three dozen different psych meds since middle school. White chocolate or milk chocolate? Milk. I can eat white chocolate in small doses, but it's generally too sweet for me. Have you ever been to an amusement park out of state? Yeah, Disney World in Florida. Would you consider yourself a crafty person? No. I'm much better at putting stuff on paper than creating stuff with my hands. What would you say is your favorite color of all time? Baby pink! Have you ever been responsible for someone’s death? Y E E S H no. Do you ever spend the night with your significant other? Not yet. We're still iffy about sleeping in the same spot though because of my sleep apnea nightmares. My new mask seems to be working great, though; I haven't had a nightmare in like a week (and keep in mind they're usually every single night), I'm just WAY too scared to lash out at him in my sleep. I need a longer period of proof it's functioning well. Do you know a lot about serial killers? No. Have the police ever been looking for you? Yes, actually. One time when my sisters, a friend, and I were at the beach, we went walking by the shore at night, after we thought we told our parents we were going. Apparently, we didn't, or they didn't hear us, because my mom was an absolute collapsing wreck and called the police to search for us. We got back to the hotel so confused, and I'll never forget how Mom was crying. Where do you get most of your accessories from? I wanna say Hot Topic? Do you cuss more than anyone else you know? Yes, actually. Have there ever been any serial killers around your hometown? Idk. Did your parents live in a different country before you were born? No. What’s something you’ve experienced that very few others have? I'd say going to a psych hospital five or six times isn't exactly common. I am so fucking glad those days are over. Do you know anyone who’s related to a current or former world leader? Not to my knowledge, no. Do you do your own taxes, or do you hire a professional? I don't have taxes. Do you have a home security system? No, but damn do I want one. What’s something you don’t think people take seriously enough? Our environmental crises, like global warming, deforestation, fossil fuels... basically just anything that involves us murdering the environment. People just don't fucking care because it's not "personal" enough, I guess. Or a fast-acting downfall. It's slow, insidious, and because of that, people think it's no biggie because it won't affect them in their lifetime and shit like that. Have you ever gotten sick from someone else’s cooking? Yes. My stomach is very, very sensitive to food it hasn't had before, especially if it's a complex recipe with lots of ingredients. What was the last kind of cheese you ate? American, on a turkey sandwich I made the other day. Have you ever abused any substance? Just Pepto Bismol. When I was in middle school, I was absolutely convinced every single day that I was going to throw up (no, I didn't actually feel sick every day; it was anxiety and just concocted in my head), so I would go to the bathroom at some point every day in school to take a pill. The habit only stopped when we ran out one day and Mom didn't get a new bottle immediately. I had to face the school day without it and, obviously, was just fine. What was the last fun thing you did? Caught up on some Tarantula Collective videos, probs. Have you ever dated someone who had a child from a previous relationship? No. Is there any drama currently going on with your family? Nah. What was the last fruit or vegetable you chopped/sliced up? An apple. When you take a nap, do you nap in bed or on the couch? In my bed. Have you ever been called a whore? No. Pretty far from one. What kind of phone do you have? It's a Tracfone. I'm ready to get a new, better one. Do you like hot chocolate? Love itttt. Do you know anyone with an STD? Yes. Are you afraid of deep water? Not as much as most people, it seems. Do you get dizzy easily? I naturally have alarmingly low blood pressure, only made worse by medication, so trust me, I sure as hell do. Have you ever been thrown up on? LKAJSDLKFJAKLWJEKLWJERLK NO Have you ever thrown up on someone? Maybe as a baby? How many times have you thrown up from being so drunk? Zero. Does the sound of fireworks scare you? No, not if I know it's coming. Otherwise I'll probably jump a bit, fearing it being a gunshot. What’s your favorite firework? I don't know how to identify fireworks, ha ha. But generally just the really big, colorful ones. Have you ever been beat up? No. Have you ever seen a jellyfish? Only in aquariums. Do you cry when you get angry? Yes. I cry to cope with a ton of emotions. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? Plan on it. What do you think people really think about you? That I'm an awkward, reclusive, leeching lowlife without goals I'll actually chase. God, that's painful to think about, what people see from the outside. What’s your favorite part about Thanksgiving? Nothing. I don't like Thanksgiving. I have to spend it every single year with horribly conservative, bigoted fucks. I hate Thanksgiving food, too. How many best friends do you have? One. What kind of car is your favorite? I don't know. Sleek, elegant ones. Do you prefer pens or pencils? Pencils. When did you go to sleep last night? Not 'til like... around 4 in the morning. Do you know anyone who’s had a stillbirth? I'm sure I do. I know MANY people who have had miscarriages. Are there any redheads in your family? I don't believe so, no. Which YouTuber do you feel like you relate to the most? Ummm maybe Morgan Adams, except I'm not funny lmao. What theme do you want for your wedding? Gothic. What theme would you choose for a baby’s nursery? Purely hypothetically, I'd probably choose pastel colors and baby animals for a daughter, and then little cute dinosaurs for a boy. Does your first crush know that he/she was your first crush? No. Do you know your first crush’s middle name? No. Who do you wish you could go on another date with? I'm happy only going on dates with my current boyfriend. Which family member did you get your height from? My mom. We're pretty much the same. Do you feel stupid regularly? ALWAYS. What style of wedding dress do you want? Most likely a ball gown one with a sweetheart top. Definitely subject to change, though; I honestly just love wedding dresses and would want to actually see how I look in varying styles, except mermaid. Mermaid gowns look AWFUL on 99% of people imo. Who was the last friend of yours to have a baby, and what’s the baby’s name? My high school band friend Marcus, his wife had their first baby just the other day. I'm blanking on her name right now. Who is the cutest baby you’ve seen on social media recently? Bindi Irwin's daughter Grace is like illegally cute. What is your opinion on Arby’s? I hate that shit. What is your favorite doughnut? Just an original glazed from Krispy Kreme fuckin does it for me man. But I just love donuts in general. Do you have a hot tub? If so, where is it located? We poor, hunny. What is your favorite party game? I don't really have one, given I don't exactly go to parties. Do you or your parents rake your yard? It doesn't need to be raked. My dad used to occasionally when my parents were still together. Have you won anything recently? No. How often do you make Excel tables? What for? Never. What was the last baby animal you saw in the wild? Umm I want to say I saw a young squirrel dash out of the road semi-recently? Do you like drag queens? If so, got any favourites? Drag queens are, well, fucking queens. I love them. Trixie Mattel is high on the list. How about drag kings? You know... somehow it never struck me that this term existed???? I'm dumb. But anyway, I think it's still awesome. I don't know any (I think?) though. Would it bother you, if your partner had cut contact with their parents? If he had good reason to, it wouldn't bother me. His father is no longer living, but I could not even imagine him cutting contact with his mother since he helps the woman so much and cares a shitload for her. As someone who relates to what I know of her and what she's gone through, I'd definitely be concerned if he cut ties with her. It'd almost feel like an insult to me, too, if that makes sense? Like I'd be scared I was next. Have you ever wondered whether you were adopted? As a kid, yes. I sometimes thought my mom didn't love me as much as my sisters, so I had an episode where I wondered. Have you ever grown a berry bush? No.

[tfcrp]

THIS IS YOUR GAME

Name: Meredith Cotes Age: Nineteen Class Year: Sophomore Position: Vixen Hometown: Weston, Massachusetts

THIS IS YOUR MOMENT

TW: death, drug mention, sexual harassment

Her father was a businessman, a mogul, the kind that they wrote profiles on in magazines, peeking behind the curtain at his private life, his beautiful home, his perfect family. But even outside of the public eye, their life was idyllic: Meredith’s parents loved each other, and they loved her. Her parents had the kind of hobbies that only money could buy, hobbies that took them to the bottom of the ocean and the tops of mountains—and then even higher, as they took to the skies. Meredith kept her feet on solid ground, preferring the rigid structure and discipline of ballet to her parents’ constant quest for adrenaline, her childhood all ballet-pink and en pointe.

And it was her parents’ own sense of daring that undid them, Meredith losing both her parents in one fell swoop to a plane crash in which her father had been at the controls. She was fifteen and orphaned, uncertain of what would become of her until her parents’ lawyers sat her down and told there was an uncle of hers coming to take care of her—an uncle she had never met, because he had been estranged from her parents, and Meredith quickly came to understand why. Her parents had filled their home with life, with laughter, with love, made it something that always felt warm and welcoming and bright. Under her uncle, it became something else. He was rude, and the friends he invited into Meredith’s parents’ home were even ruder, filling it with raised voices and crude language and cigarette smoke, turning her childhood home into something that seemed dingy, seedy, a shadow of what it once was.

It felt like she had stepped into an alternate universe, with everything the darker inverse of its previous self. In her home she felt hunted, afraid to leave her bedroom because of the way the drunken eyes of her uncle’s friends would follow her, the lewd commentary that her uncle never stopped and sometimes encouraged, the wandering hands she had to dodge. On nights like that she would hide, alone in her bedroom with nothing but the chair jammed under her doorknob and the sinking feeling that, however bad things already were, they could still get much worse.

And then there was the money. As a minor, her uncle had sole discretion over the money her parents had left behind, charged with using it in her care until she came of age. She watched it drain away: a flashy sports car, a six-figure watch, the purest cocaine that money could buy, high-stakes card games in the dining room where her family had once had Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. It wasn’t the spending that saddened and enraged her. It wasn’t even about the money at all. It was about what it represented: her parents’ legacy, and the love they had for her, the future they wanted to provide her—all that she had left of them.

Her despair felt bottomless, but she resolved to not let it paralyze her, to turn it into something more inflexible, something stronger: she was not going to passively sit by and count down the days until she turned eighteen, until she was free—no, her uncle was a brute, her uncle was a criminal, and she wanted him out of her home and out of her life, where he couldn’t poison everything that was still good in it. And so, with the help of her parents’ lawyers, they built a case, a dossier of evidence that encompassed everything from embezzlement to illegal gambling to drug possession, everything they could put together to put him away for a long time.

Meredith wanted to be vindicated, imagined with deep satisfaction the day she would sit in a courtroom and recount her uncle’s crimes, make him look her in the face as he realized there was no getting out of the web of his own making—but it didn’t quite work out that way. The end result was what she wanted—her uncle plead guilty and went to prison, and she would live alone as an emancipated minor until she turned eighteen—but it was all back-room dealings that never saw a trial. There was a part of her that had grown bloodthirsty that wasn’t satisfied, but she bit her tongue and forced it to be enough—she was free, and that was what really mattered.

SEIZE IT WITH EVERYTHING YOU’VE GOT

Her life was her own again, and so was her future—a prospect that felt more frightening than liberating, that made her miss her parents more than ever, because they weren’t around to guide her, to help her answer the questions of what she should do, or what would come next. College seemed small when compared to putting her uncle in prison, but it was impossible to visit campuses alone, look at all the other prospective students walking arm-in-arm with their parents, and not feel that ache. In the end, that’s perhaps what drew her to Palmetto: it’s where her mother attended undergrad, before meeting her father in graduate school.  

Ballet was something that had fallen by the wayside after her parents’ death, and something she thought about going back to: something rigorous, something disciplined, something that may have fit the newly formed steel spine inside of her. But instead she found herself pulled in an entirely different direction, her attention captured by the defiance of the Foxes, the roaring of a game-night crowd, and the bright orange uniforms and waving pom-poms of the Vixens. It felt so outside of what her life had become in the past few years, something unrestrained and vibrant, something full of life, and she was hungry for it—and so she followed that hunger to a spot on the Vixen squad for her sophomore year, hoping that by making herself a part of it all, she could find a way to take some of its vibrancy for herself.

MEREDITH COTES is portrayed by COURTNEY EATON and is OPEN