#» i can find the whole meaning of life in those sad eyes « — ∟ jenna

[thelilxcfxiry]

So my theatre nerd and sylki obsessed brain has been drawing SO MANY connections between musical theatre songs and sylki so here, nobody asked for this but i dont care, a sylki musical theatre songs post type thing list? Enjoy (and feel free to add stuff if you happen to come up w any I'll be rly interested to see what you all think)

Also anything in square brackets [] is just me being me and adding some thoughts, not the actual lyrics HAHA

You Matter To Me (Waitress)

Dr Pomatter (Loki):

I could find the whole meaning of life in those sad eyes

They've seen things you never quite say, but I hear

Come out of hiding I'm right here beside you

And I'll stay there as long as you'll let me

Because you matter to me [can you just imagine how SWEET because he already said he wants her to be okay its just ONE step away from saying you matter to me cmon]

Simple and plain and not much to ask from somebody

You matter to me

I promise you do, you

You matter too

I promise you do, you'll see

You matter to me

Jenna (Sylvie):

All of this time I've been keeping my mind on the running away

And for the first time, I think I'd consider the stay

You Shine (Carrie)

Tommy (Loki):

If you could see the way that you look to me

I bet that you'd be amazed at the sight

You'd see a heart that's fearless and true

From my point of view, oh you shine

I'm Not That Girl (Wicked)

Elphaba (Sylvie):

Hands touch, eyes meet [ahEm LAMENTIS]

Sudden silence, sudden heat

Hearts leap in a giddy whirl

He could be that boy

But I'm not that girl

Don't dream too far

Don't lose sight of who you are [patpat Sylvie]

Don't remember that rush of joy

He could be that boy

I'm not that girl

Ev'ry so often, we long to steal

To the land of what-might-have-been

But that doesn't soften the ache we feel

When reality sets back in

Don't wish, don't start

Wishing only wounds the heart

I wasn't born for the rose and the pearl

As Long As You're Mine (Wicked)

Fiyero (Loki):

Maybe I'm brainless

Maybe I'm wise

But you've got me seeing

Through different eyes

Somehow I've fallen

Under your spell [she couldn't enchant his mind but she sure enchanted his heart]

And somehow I'm feeling

It's up that I fell

Say there's no future [anTIS]

For us as a pair

And though I may know [and yeah i know they both sing this part in the song but i think it lines up more with loki than sylvie in this case]

I don't care

Just for this moment

As long as you're mine

Come be how you want to [i mean just the thought of him serenading her with any of these songs... He's already dedicated a song to her before 👀]

And see how bright we shine

Borrow the moonlight

Until it is through

And know I'll be here

Holding you

As long as you're mine

Suddenly, Seymour (Little Shop Of Horrors)

Audrey (Sylvie):

Nobody ever treated me kindly

Suddenly, Seymour is standing beside me [just substitute every seymour with loki even the syllables line up HAHA]

He don't give me orders, he don't condescend

Suddenly, Seymour is here to provide me

Sweet understanding, Seymour's my friend

Seymour (Loki):

Tell me this feeling lasts till forever

Tell me the bad times are clean washed away

Audrey (Sylvie):

Please understand that it's still strange and frightening

For losers like I've been it's so hard to say

Our Love Is God (Heathers)

J.D. (overprotective Loki/Sylvie [honestly i think it could go either way for this one]):

They made you cry

But that will end tonight

You are the only thing that's right

About this broken world

Go on and cry

But when the morning comes

We'll burn it down and then

We'll build the world again...

Our love is God

I was alone

I was a frozen lake

But then you melted me awake

See, now I'm crying too

You're not alone

BONUS

Omigod You Guys (Legally Blonde)

Me, looking at anything sylki:

Oh my god, oh my god you guys

If there ever was a perfect couple, this one qualifies

Oh my god you guys!

Oh my god, this is happening

Our own homecoming queen and king

Oh my god you guys!

Elle [Sylvie] and Warner [Loki] were meant to be

They're just like that couple from Titanic! [This only gets better when you know Kate Soph and Tom watched Titanic]

Only no one dies [yes HWR is no one]

Oh my god, oh my god you guys

Let's go home before someone [me] cries

If there ever was a perfect couple, this one qualifies

'Cause we [I] love you guys

[the-weeping-author]

Secrets are forbidden Ch. 3

A/N: so before I start this authors note let me say some of y’all will not like how I wrote hopper so please don’t @ me lol. But finally done with chapter 3 I’m so happy.

Tag list: @ahoy-stevieboy @thehair-ington @linkispink1995 @harringtown @violet-dahlia @gardeniasandwhiskey @lxvesickreality @bluebellbrooke @thenameishayley248 @pappydaddy @simplesammyx @didyouputyournameinthegob @lenassaviorsblog @wolphielautz

Warnings: cussing, parent issues.

Wordcount: 2,592

Parings: Oc hopper x Steve Harrington.

Please enjoy 🙂

I woke up to the sound of the A/C kicking on, I threw my covers off of me. I rubbed the sleep from my face, I got undressed walking into my bathroom. I turned on the cold water, went to find clothes to wear for the first day back at school. I grabbed a pair of my black overalls, I grabbed a white t-shirt walking over to my dresser and I grabbed a bra, underwear. I walked back into the bathroom, turned the hot water all the way up, turned the cold down about halfway.

After my shower I put my clothes on, I grabbed my car keys walking out into the kitchen. I saw my father, I walked to the cabinet, grabbed a coffee mug. I poured myself a cup of coffee, I sat at the kitchen table drinking it while my father sat across from me. It was awkward, I didn’t know what to say. I knew my father didn’t hate me, but he didn’t care to talk to me either. I never knew my father’s issue with me, but I think it had to do with the fact that Sara and I didn’t share the same mother.

I wanted to believe it wasn’t true, but I didn’t have time to sit and ponder on the thought. If I were to bring it up it might make matters worse between us, I didn’t want it to get worse. That’s why I was getting a job, it was sad. Not because I had to work, but because I’d rather have all my time taken up by work, school than spend more than an hour with my father. It was too late to try and get to know me. It was 17 years too late, I didn’t care if he wanted me in his life or not anymore.

After I finished my coffee I put my mug into the sink, I walked out the front door. I got into my car, drove to school. When I got there I got out of my car, walked into the school. Eyes were on me as soon as I opened the main doors, as soon as I entered the building I left the stress of my home life at the front doors. My grades weren’t going to be affected by my crush on Steve, my father, but definitely not by the upside down. I walked to my locker, I twisted my combination perfectly because as soon as I finished the last number it popped off.

Now my lock has a love hate relationship with me, it can wait in line just like the rest of the lovely people who love but hate me. I grabbed a few textbooks out of my locker, out the corner of my eye I saw a dude. Now I knew everyone, but I didn’t know this dude. I could tell just from looking at him he was troubled from the brown boots on his feet to his curly blond hair. I knew just from looking at him once I Wasn’t going to like him, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to get to know the guy.

All it took was for us to lock eyes, he was on his way over to me. I quickly shut my locker, nearly ran into the guy. When he got closer the more I could smell his aftershave, just the aroma made me nauseous. I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear as he approached, I leaned up against my lockers as he halted to a stop right in front of me.

“So you’re the queen of Hawkins huh?”

I looked up at him, confidently nodded my head at him.

“Yep that’s me, and how may I help you?”

He smirked slightly, ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair.

“Names Billy Hargrove, you’re going to give me a tour of Hawkins high.”

I let out a slight amused laugh, I looked right into his eyes.

“In your dreams Blondie.”

I smiled, walked away from him. There was one thing on my mind, that was to find Steve. I mean I was sure since Billy approached me he would approach harrington. If he hadn’t already done it. He’s intentions were clear, that was to put everyone on guard here. Everyone had a target on Steve's back, but I had a feeling Billy was going to knock a few of those guys out of his way. I mean after all this was high school, guys cared about their reputation. Girls were Way different, we didn’t care who was popular. It's why I loved Robin.

Robin didn’t care that I was popular, but she didn’t like crowds so that’s why she only hung out with me at lunch. I always sat with her, only because my “friends” bothered her the whole time. So I decided that we’d only hang out at lunch and after school. It was a regular lunch day, I was sitting in my usual spot. Next thing I knew that Billy guy was sitting next to me, Robin immediately stopped talking. I turned my head a little bit to look at him, smiled.

“Hey There Bobby how can I help you this time?”

He looked at me, the corner of his mouth twitched.

“My name is Billy, But I didn’t have anyone to sit with so I thought I’d sit with you.”

I looked behind Billy, then looked back at him.

“Well according to the group of people looking over here you found somewhere to sit.”

“Huh? I don’t know what your-.”

I put my hand up, he stopped talking immediately.

“Look Benny, why don’t you just save yourself the time. I wasn’t Interested earlier and I’m not now. So save yourself the embarrassment.”

He stood up, grabbed his lunch. I could tell he was seething but It didn’t phase me, I didn’t care he definitely needed to back off. He turned his head as he walked away, stopping not too far from us.

“The name is Billy by the way.”

I turned to Robin, she smirked slightly at the conversation that just happened. She drank some of her milk, the bell rang. I walked to my locker to get some of the things that I needed for the rest of the day.

I grabbed my last book when I turned, numbed right into Steve Harrington.

“Hey Steve.”

He smiled at me, nudged me with his shoulder.

“Hey hopper how are you?”

I shut my locker, looked at him.

“Well besides some guy named Baxter Hargrove coming up to me today I’m good. How about you?”

Steve's eyebrows furrowed, he cracked a smile at me.

“You mean Billy?”

I gasped dramatically, I put my finger on my Chin.

“Oh is that his name I was wondering why he kept popping up every time I turned around?”

Steve let out a laugh, shook his head at me then he looked down at me his smile dropping some at my last statement.

“He came up to you? What did he say?”

I shook my head, let out a laugh.

“He was basically trying to get me to give him a tour of Hawkins, but it definitely wasn’t happening. He probably just wanted to get alone with me so he could lie about some false sexual encounter.”

I barely saw steves faces drop, but I could tell just by mentioning Billy probably lying about something stupid made him upset. Which was weird cause we weren’t a thing, but I guess he was just being protective. For some odd reason, trust me it wasn’t like Steve to be protective Steve and I never had the best anything really. I mean we were always making fun of each other even in elementary school.

I shrugged it off though, I continued with the rest of my day. The last period of school went by like a blink of an eye, it was time for me to return to my Castle in the woods. I walked to my car, I saw Steve standing near my car. I guess Nancy was somewhere else at the time because they were always together, I walked to my car opening my door.

“What’s up Harrington?”

Steve smiled, moved off the side of my car.

“Nothing just wanted to come see if the queen of Hawkins high was going to Tina’s party.”

I let out a laugh, looked at him.

“Steve you know just as well as anyone else I’m going.”

He smiled then looked at me, nodded his head. I looked through my purse for my keys, When I finally found them he responded.

“Alright cool I guess I’ll see you then?”

I threw my purse in my car, looked at him.

“Okay Harrington what’s your damage?”

He cocked a brow at me, shrugged.

“What do you mean?”

I shook my head at him, let out a sarcastic laugh.

“You know exactly what I mean Steve. We totally aren’t friends, now all of a sudden you’re being nice to me and making sure I’m going to a party so like what’s your damage?”

Steve looked at me, put his hands up in defense.

“Jenna I was just trying to be nice, maybe I want us to actually have a friendship instead of being at each other's throats.”

I nodded my head, looked at him.

“Okay Steve but we need to hang out more if I’m going to consider you a friend.. so here’s my number. You can call when you want to hang out. I have to go.”

I smiled at him while I grabbed a bubble gum wrapper along with a pen, I jot down my number. I handed him the wrapper, got into my car, buckled up then drove away from the parking lot.

After I pulled into my driveway I stepped out of my car, over the fishing line that was totally invisible. I sighed when I finally got inside the house, called out.

“El I’m home.”

She came out of her room with a smile on her face, she looked at me.

“How was school?”

I laughed at her, ruffled her hair.

“Well we have some new guy at school named Billy but he’s a dick, but don’t tell Hopper I said that.”

She smiled, crossed her heart then held out her pinky which I gladly accepted. I wrapped my pinky around hers, She told me about her day at the house and I told her about my day. I started dinner, after it was done my dad finally came home. I sat his plate in front of him, I sat Eli’s in front of her then I sat down.

“Hey dad, how was work?”

He poked his food with his fork, then shrugged.

“Eh.”

I looked at him then smiled.

“Anything exciting happen today?”

He shrugged again, took a bite.

“Nope.”

I looked at him, smiled.

“School was good, we got a new guy but he’s totally bogus.”

This time he didn’t reply. I knew he just got in from work, but he could at least indulge in the conversation. I sighed, quickly ate my food then stood up from the table.

“Alright El come see me before you go to bed I have something for you.”

She nodded, continued to eat. After I washed my plate, fork off I walked into my room. I sat on my bed, stared doing homework. About thirty minutes later the phone rang, I heard my dad pick it up, a few minutes later he knocked on my door.

“Jenna telephone.”

I cocked my eyebrow, I closed my folder, and got off my bed. I walked to the phone, I put it up to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Jenna it’s me Steve.”

I smiled slightly, I walked into a more secluded area of the cabin.

“Hey Steve what’s up?”

I heard him take in a breath then exhale.

“Nothing just wanted to hang out so I thought I’d call and see if you wanted to hang out.”

I furrowed my brows together, looked at my clock.

“Steve it’s ten thirty. There’s no way my dad’s going to let me go out.”

Steve went silent for a minute then he decided to speak again.

“You can’t sneak out?”

I sighed, put my palm against my forehead.

“Yeah I’ll get my shoes on, where should I go?”

“Come to my house duh.”

“Okay Steve see you in about fifteen minutes bye.”

After hanging up with Steve I slid on my shoes, grabbed my car keys. I walked out into the living room, my dad was watching tv so I decided to ask him just to let him know where I would be.

“Dad Steve wants me to go over to his house is that okay?”

He didn’t even look away from the tv, I barely heard him answer me.

“Mhm yeah have fun.”

I sighed, shook my head. Most kids my age would kill to have a parent who let them do whatever, but honestly it wasn’t everything expected it to be. He didn’t just let me do whatever I wanted, but he didn’t even acknowledge my presence.

After I got to my car safely I put the key in the ignition, turned it. After it started up I pulled out of the woods, headed to the Harrington house hold. The sky was beautifully lit, the moon was full. It was a beautiful night to be out, but I assume Steve wasn’t one for stargazing. I mean come on he could barely hold a conversation.

The drive to Steve's house was quick, when I got there his porch light was on. I knocked on the door, he opened it smiling at me.

“I’m glad you could make it.”

I nodded my head at him, he opened the door.

“Did you think I wasn’t coming?”

He looked at me, rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well uh I honestly didn’t know.”

I smiled, looked at him.

“Are your parents home?”

He quickly shook his head no, let out a scoff.

“No they aren’t, they’re never here.”

I looked at him, looked around.

“Yeah I can definitely relate to that.”

His brows furrowed, he looked at me walking over to the couch sitting on it.

“What do you mean, isn’t your dad home like all the time?”

I let out a soft sigh, then sat beside him pushing my hair behind my ear.

“He is but he doesn’t really pay me any kind it’s a total drag.”

He pressed his lips together for a quick moment, then he rubbed his hands on his jeans. Since when did Steve Harrington get nervous?

“I’m sorry to hear that Jenna, would you like a beer?”

I probably should have said no, but I decided against that thought.

“Sure Steve I’d love one.”

He stood off the couch, walked towards the kitchen.

“Okay I’ll be right back, oh and Jenna.”

I looked up at him, arched my eyebrow at him.

“Yes Steve?”

“You can always talk to me if you need to.”

I smiled at him, nodded my head at him.

“Same here harrington.”

The rest of the evening was spent laughing, talking about everything really. School, parents, his relationship, and we even went for a swim which quickly escalated into a playful splash fight. I don’t know what changed between Steve and I but something did, I saw myself developing a crush on Steve, but I didn’t know how or when it happened.

A/N: thank you guys and gals so much for reading chapter 3 I hope y’all liked it. Sorry hopper fans but his attitude isn’t gonna change for a few chapters.

[just-like-playing-tag]

Norman x Ray

Asked by Anonymous. Thank you very much for the ask!!!

Prepare yourself because this is going to be long. I l o v e them!!!!!!!!!!!!

Favorite thing about them: How they know and love each other deeply and tenderly; how they admire and respect each other!

Least favorite thing about them: Nothing really, they make one of my favourite ships,,

Favorite line(s):

And:

The unofficial translation as well because "I like talking to you"

Random headcanon(s): Ok I have tons.

Rember that time Shirai said that Ray and Norman like disassembling small machines together in their free time? Well Norman has in fact no interest in the activity itself: he does that just because 1) he gets to spend time with Ray and 2) Ray has fun, and those are the things that make Norman the happiest.

Norman steals Ray's clothes~

Also I love the concept of Norman and Ray alone in Norman's studio, slowly dancing to some jazz music, Ray's face buried into Norman's neck? I don't know, a soft scenario I carry behind since I finished the manga. I just love them so much it hurts ;;;;;;

Unpopular opinion: Uhm. I get that you love the boys but please stop disrespecting Emma. She's an important part of their relationship and characters even when she's not romantically involved with any of them.

Also... How some people depicts their relationship in a very unbalanced way makes me low-key uncomfortable? I mean I like them exactly because I find them so similar and balanced (as in: they complete what the other lacks), but maybe it's just me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I really really love this ship but I really don't get the interest of the fandom in depicting Norman as mean / psycho? I find it really oc tbh

Song i associate with them: Ok listen I love these songs and they make me think about them a lot:

You Matter to Me - Waitress

[With Norman as Dr. Pomatter and Ray as Jenna]

Jenna is so rough and uncensored, she reminds me tons of Ray! And Pomatter's sweet words here fit Norman so much... Owww I love them so much it hurts 😭😭😭

IT'S HARD TO CHOSE ONLY A BRIEF PART THE WHOLE SONG IS SO PERFECT

[Norman / Dr. Pomatter]

I could find the whole meaning of life in those sad eyes

They've seen things you never quite say, but I hear

Come out of hiding, I'm right here beside you

And I'll stay there as long as you'll let me

Because you matter to me

Simple and plain and not much to ask from somebody

You matter to me

I promise you do, you, you matter too

I promise you do, you'll see

You matter to me

[Ray / Jenna]

It's addictive the minute you let yourself think

The things that I say just might matter to someone

All of this time I've been keeping my mind on the running away

And for the first time, I think I'd consider the stay

Ok just imagine Ray saying this to Norman I'm literally crying???? Hello???????

The Other Side - The Greatest Showman

[With Norman as P.T. Barnum and Ray as Phillip Carlyle]

This one when Norman is persuading Ray to join their escape plan

[Norman / P.T. Barnum]

Right here, right now

I put the offer out

I don't want to chase you down

I know you see it

You run with me

And I can cut you free

Out of the drudgery and walls you keep in

[...]

Don't you wanna get away from the same old part you gotta play

'Cause I got what you need

So come with me and take the ride

It'll take you to the other side

'Cause you can do like you do

Or you can do like me

Stay in the cage, or you'll finally take the key

Oh, damn! Suddenly you're free to fly

It'll take you to the other side

[...]

But you would finally live a little, finally laugh a little

Just let me give you the freedom to dream and it'll

Wake you up and cure your aching

Take your walls and start 'em breaking

Now that's a deal that seems worth taking

But I guess I'll leave that up to you~

Jackman's part in this song has the sultry / persuading vibes that fit Norman so much!!! I love it.

Favorite picture of them:

🥺

Send me a character (or a ship) and I’ll list

[siennamain]

Can I just scream into the void about how You Matter To Me is such an A route song???

Jenna’s verses fit A perfectly and Dr. Pomatter’s can fit the Detective too. Also it’s just so soft??

“I could find the whole meaning of life in those sad eyes They've seen things you never quite say, but I hear Come out of hiding, I'm right here beside you And I'll stay there as long as you'll let me”

“It's addictive the minute you let yourself think The things that I say just might matter to someone All of this time I've been keeping my mind on the running away And for the first time, I think I'd consider the stay”

[myhockeyworld87]

Choices - Tyler Seguin/Jamie Benn - Part 5

Word Count: 2086

POV: Starts with Tyler/Ends with Reader

Warnings: Talk to miscarriage, language

Notes: Ok here is the next installment with the choice that you guys picked. You have 48 hours to vote (Friday at 3pm). For all the US readers, I hope you all have a Happy Thanksgiving! Enjoy the Black Friday shopping! Peace, Love and Hugs all!

TYLER’S POV

 As you waited patiently for (Y/N) to answer your questions, your mind began to wander. You could picture it clearly, a tiny little girl. She’d have your soft brunette curls atop her head, but (Y/N)’s eyes and nose; and definitely (Y/N)’s smile. Your little girl would be just over a year-old right now. Part of you realized you missed a lot of firsts, the first time she rolled over, her first steps, her first words; vaguely, you wondered if she could say daddy, if not, it would be something you could teach her. Spoiling her rotten would be high on your list of things to do. She was going to be your little princess, and there was nothing in this world she couldn’t have.

 Then again, it could be a little boy. He’d have your devilish grin; but (Y/N)’s amazingly sweet personality. He’d probably love the dogs; they’d be his best friends. You could already see him, waddling after Gerry outside; the two of them playing in a mud puddle. You couldn’t wait to teach him how to skate, a little hockey stick in his hand, as he toddled around the living room. No matter if it was a boy or a girl you’d love them with all your heart. This was a life that you and (Y/N) created together, and you couldn’t wait to start being a family.

 (Y/N) still had a blank stare in her eyes. Of course you were somewhat upset that she hadn’t told you about the baby; but you weren’t going to blame her. What mattered now, was that you were here, and so were she and the baby; and now you could all be a family. Though you knew Jamie would be hurt, by (Y/N) being with you; he’d eventually move on and find someone else, who he could start a family with.

 All this waiting was getting to you. You had to know more about your child. “(Y/N), where’s the baby? Can we go see them now?”

 Jamie squeezed her hand, which you found odd. (Y/N) opened her mouth, yet no words came out. Finally after a few attempts, she said; “Tyler, I lost the baby.” What did she mean by that? Like she didn’t know where the baby was. You assumed your face must have given you away for the next thing that came out of her mouth was. “I had a miscarriage.”

 The reality of her words hit you like a ton of bricks. All those dreams and images that were in your mind, were just wiped away. It was like being blindsided and slammed into the boards so hard, that you weren’t sure you were going to get up from the hit. Physically you staggered back a bit before saying. “When? How? Why didn’t you tell me?”

 “I did tell you.” Had she, you didn’t remember; but after that night you hadn’t taken a pain pill or had a drink until you spoke to her. “You called me…like what a hundred times? When I finally answered; I told you then.”

 You tried to get your mind to focus on that first conversation with (Y/N). It was somewhat hazy, but you remember her saying ‘I lost it’ several times. “Wait…is that what you were trying to tell me when you said ‘I lost it?’” Tears were streaming down her face now, she must be recalling that day. “I thought you meant lost it when you saw the video and the photo. I never thought that you meant you lost the baby, because I didn’t remember you telling me about it.” God, you had been so obliterated that night. “Jesus…no wonder you hate me.”

 “Tyler, I don’t hate you.”

 This was too much, you couldn’t take it. The high of thinking you had a baby with (Y/N); had just been crushed by the knowledge that you were the one to make (Y/N) lose your baby. “Fuck, I hate myself right now. How can you not?” The pain you were experiencing right now was making it hard to breathe. You had to get out of here. Stumbling out of the room, you ran as soon as you could find the front door; slightly aware of a voice calling your name.

  READER’S POV

 The hurt in Tyler’s eyes, mirrored your own. When you told him that you had a miscarriage; it was like reliving it all over again. It hadn’t happened immediately, it was well after you saw the photos of Tyler. The next afternoon, you’d been an emotional train wreck, crying at the drop of a hat. Part of you didn’t want to believe it was true, but then you’d look at the post again and you couldn’t escape the reality of it. Finally, you’d thrown your phone across the room; angry at the object that brought you such despair. It was in that moment that the pain hit. You doubled over with cramping so bad you fell to the ground. That’s when you saw the blood, it seemed to be everywhere, and you had no idea what to do. Slowly, you crawled over to where your phone had landed and called for an ambulance. Once you were in the emergency room, they brought over the ultra-sound machine and were unable to find the heartbeat. Though you’d been crying the whole time, the flood gates opened when the doctor confirmed you’d lost the baby.

 When the bleeding wouldn’t subside, they took you into surgery for a DNC. The whole thing felt so cold and robotic. This was your baby and they were literally scraping the remains out of you. You remember calling your friend Jenna afterward; you hadn’t told your parents yet and didn’t want them to know after what had happened with Tyler. Jenna had stayed with you the whole time, holding your hand, hugging you and just letting you cry for hours on end. You immediately blamed yourself, even when the doctor told you it wasn’t your fault; for how could it not be when you were so upset, that you’d literally forgotten about your child and now you were paying the consequences.

 Eventually Jenna convinced you to answer Tyler’s phone call and at least let him know what happened to the baby. He’d begged you to forgive him, before you could even say a word. You’d told him to ‘stop,’ that you didn’t want to hear it. Then you repeated over and over again, that you’d lost it. Now that you knew the truth and he never even knew you were pregnant; you can see how he didn’t understand. In your anger, both with yourself and him; you���d told him to go to hell. There was too much grief then to think clearly. Now you knew, that it was neither your fault nor Tyler’s. You’d come to terms that your miscarriage was out of your hands.

 You could see the emotions playing across Tyler’s face. There was joy at first, in the knowledge you two had a baby. Quickly replaced by hurt and sadness, when he found out the baby had died. Lastly there was the guilt, that overwhelming emotion that sent you spiraling out of control, was now taking over him. You didn’t hate him; you’d been long past that. When he staggered out of the room, every instinct in you wanted to follow him; and so you tried, only to be stopped by Jamie’s hand, which you totally forgot you’d been holding. It only registered in your brain when you found yourself calling out Tyler’s name. Absentmindedly you looked at Jamie, no words came out of your mouth; yet you heard him say, “Go, you both need this.” With one last squeeze of your hand, he let you go after Tyler.

 As soon as you were out of the bedroom you ran through the front door, thinking Tyler would be there; he wasn’t. You saw his figure running down the street. “Tyler!” He kept going, all the way to the end of the street, where he took a right. Where the hell was he headed? You ran down the street after him; yelling once more, “Tyler!” Finally, you reached the end of the street, he was close to the quaint bridge you and Jamie would walk across. Lungs burning with your effort to catch him, you tried one last time. “Ty! Stop! Please!” You’re not sure what made him stop, the pleading sound in your voice or the fact that you called him Ty. He turned then and saw you coming; so, you slowed your pace.

 By the time you reached him, your breathing was labored and so was his. “Why did you follow me?”

 “Ty, you shouldn’t be alone right now.” You sucked in a huge gulp of air, while looking at him. The guilt he was going through was written all over him. “It’s not your fault.”

 “How the fuck can you say that? Of course, it’s my fault. If I hadn’t been so fucking stupid that night, we’d have our child here right now.” Tears were rolling down both of your faces. “I caused you to lose our baby! Can’t you see that?”

 He turned away from you and you grabbed his hand to stop him. “Ty, stop! Just stop it right now. This isn’t your fault.” It felt like the tenth time that you said that to him, but it was the truth. “It wasn’t mine either. These things happen. It wasn’t until later that I found out why.”

 “If you hadn’t seen that video or those photos; you’d never have been upset. If I hadn’t taken those pills.” He began to sob. It was like he hadn’t heard a word you said.

 Without thinking you wrapped your arms around him hugging him as tightly as you could. “I know Ty. I know.” You cried with him; for how long, you didn’t know. Finally, you started to tell him what had happened. “I wish things were different. I blamed myself at first; thinking that if I’d put the baby first, instead of myself things would’ve been different. When I was finally able to talk to the doctor without being distraught, he told me what happened.”

 He pulled back from your embrace slightly, though still had his arms around you. “What do you mean? What happened (Y/N)?”

 “When he went in to do the DNC.” He looked at you not understanding the term. It was difficult enough to think about, let alone try and describe to someone; but you took a deep breath and tried. “That’s a surgical procedure they do, to…take the remains of the baby out.” More tears flooded both your eyes. It wasn’t an experience you wanted to relive. “Anyhow.” You let out a deep sigh. “While they were doing the procedure, they noticed my uterus was an abnormal shape. Apparently, that’s what caused me to miscarry. A few months later, I went in and had surgery to fix it; so, hopefully my next pregnancy won’t result the same way.” He was still looking at you, as if he was the reason this all happened. “Tyler, don’t you see. I more than likely I would’ve lost the baby anyhow. It was just bad timing.”

 His hand moved to your face, wiping away the tears that you’d shed. You did the same for him. “I’m so sorry baby. You had to go through this whole thing alone. You shouldn’t have been alone. I should’ve been there.” You leaned your head into the palm of his hand, even through all your anger; you’d still wanted him to be by your side, when it all happened. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” A fat drop of rain hit your face, and soon the sky opened up pouring down on the two of you. It was washing away all your sins of the past; and now the two of you could finally breathe again. It was giving you a fresh start. His eyes locked with yours, and all the love you’d shared came flooding back. He leaned closer to you; lips parted as he had so many times before.

 Time to choose. There aren’t many options here but still this choice could be pivotal.

 A)     Let Tyler kiss you.

B)      Stop Tyler before he kisses you, you’re in love with Jamie.

C)      Tell Tyler you can’t do this at the moment, your emotions are all over the place. You love Jamie, but at the same time you still love Tyler.

[marypsue]

house rule #3

So Darcy Lewis' new roommate might secretly be a supervillain. At least she always takes out the trash.

I timewarped in from 2012 to bring you this silly fic. Canon divergent(...ish? If anything contradicts canon pretend it's an AU) after Thor. I've never kept a timeline straight in my life and I don't intend to start now.

Happy New Year or whatever.

[on AO3]

...

Darcy goes back to school after New Mexico, and her roommate is gone.

Not, like, vanished by the government the way Darcy nearly was (thanks, Jane), probably, because apparently Melissa stopped and had a nice long chat with the landlady about why she was suddenly packing up and moving out mid-school-year. Oh, and took back the damage deposit that Darcy paid half of. Thanks, Melissa.

Darcy pays up for the damage deposit, goes back up to the apartment, puts on some angry music, and drafts an ad for a new roommate. She posts it online, then makes herself some noodles, eats them while watching Jenna Marbles videos on Youtube, and then goes to bed.

The next morning, there’s exactly one email response to her ad sitting in her inbox.

That’s how Darcy meets Lucy Walker.

Lucy’s an exchange student, over from England for a single semester. Her accent is as charmingly Mary Poppins-ish as her extremely convenient arrival. Darcy’s so relieved to have somebody to pick up the other half of the rent that she thinks she doesn’t even care if Lucy’s Single-White-Female-ing her right now. She says as much, and Lucy just gives her a good-naturedly baffled look before changing the subject to utilities.

Lucy’s good with Darcy’s 50/50 arrangement for utilities, isn’t horrified that Darcy doesn’t have cable and expects Lucy to pay for it if she absolutely can’t live without it (though she is horrified that Darcy doesn’t have an electric kettle, and by Darcy’s suggestion that she microwave the water for her tea), and seems satisfied with the smaller bedroom. She signs the lease before she leaves the viewing, and by the end of the week, she’s fully moved in.

The first night that Lucy stays at the apartment, Darcy orders in Thai and makes them both Long Island iced teas. It’s got tea in the name, she figures. The Brit will probably like it. Also maybe get drunk enough to let slip if she’s planning to wear Darcy’s skin like a suit.

But the alcohol barely seems to touch Lucy. If anything, she gets quieter, moodier. This was the opposite of what Darcy was going for, so she turns on some music to bring the mood back up.

“Oh, house rule number one,” she says, as she hits shuffle on her dance-pop playlist. “Stereo’s mine. I control the music. Unless you have, like, really good taste in music, and even then, ask first.”

Lucy smiles at her, slowly, over her novelty tiki mug of extremely powerful booze. “I find it better by far to beg forgiveness than ask permission. How will I know if I have, ‘like, really good taste in music’?”

“Oh, I’ll let you know,” Darcy says. “Here, gimme your iPod, let’s take a look.” She holds out a hand, wiggling her fingers. Lucy shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

“I don’t…have one of those,” she says, warily, and Darcy draws her hand back.

“Yeah? No big. I almost didn’t either, after the government stole it.” She shakes her head. “What bands do you like?”

“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with many American bands,” Lucy says, and Darcy beams.

“Even better! You’re a blank slate.”

“Yes, I certainly am that,” Lucy says, into her tiki mug, her eyebrows rising.

“Okay, cryptic,” Darcy says, and skips to Party Rock Anthem. “Hey, do you need more booze?”

Lucy, it turns out, is in the States studying business, though if the way she talks about her one Shakespeare-focused lit class is anything to go by, her true love is drama. She’s here because her older brother did the exchange program and got so much out of it, though so far she seems pretty unimpressed with the States.

“Well, I mean,” Darcy says. “We are barbarians who microwave our tea.”

Lucy laughs so hard at that that Darcy suspects she’s not as unaffected by the Long Island iced teas as she’d like to pretend.

 …

 Darcy ends up using the electric kettle almost as much as Lucy does. She doesn’t convert from coffee, though. Starbucks still owns her ass. She should really invest in shares.

Lucy makes herself incredibly easy to get along with. Sure, she takes forever in the bathroom every morning – probably making her hair do that thing it does, Darcy’s got no idea how she keeps it in place, she’s starting to suspect witchcraft - but she wakes up at hours that Darcy’s only ever seen from the other side, so it’s not really an issue. Lucy pulls long (and slightly odd) hours in the library, doesn’t bitch about Darcy’s music, always washes her dishes and takes out the trash and replaces the toilet paper roll. She doesn’t throw wild parties or steal Darcy’s jackets or leave clumps of hair in the shower or perishable food out on the counter for hours or invite her boyfriend to basically move in rent-free like some roommates Darcy could name.

But she also…doesn’t seem to have any…friends.

Lucy never brings anybody to the apartment, which is a point in her favour as far as Darcy’s concerned. But she also never talks about meeting anybody at the library or for coffee. She doesn’t have people over, but she also doesn’t go out. She’s not bad-looking - pretty, even, in a pointy kind of way, with those dark Snow White curls and pale skin and big sad-puppy green eyes – but as far as Darcy can tell, there’s no boyfriend in the picture, not even a long-distance one.

And she doesn’t call her family.

At first, Darcy thought it was a time zone thing, but after some of the things Lucy’s said in passing about her dad – well, it sounds like things between her and her family are kind of…strained. Darcy isn’t sure, but she thinks Lucy might actually be adopted. Maybe. Lucy seems to live for cryptic answers to straightforward questions.

Ordinarily, Darcy would consider all of this not her problem. But ordinarily, Darcy would also not be coming home after classes on a Friday to find her practically-perfect-in-every-way new roommate curled up on the couch hugging Darcy’s pug pillow to her chest and staring blankly at the wall. Lucy’s not crying, but her cheeks are suspiciously shiny.

She doesn’t seem to notice Darcy’s come in until Darcy says her name twice, and then she jumps up with a guilty expression, like Darcy’d just walked in and caught her jerkin’ it. Wanking? She is British, after all.

“Don’t mind me,” Lucy says, scrubbing a hand under each of her eyes in turn, an extremely bright and extremely fake smile settling over her face. “I was just heading back to the library – how was your class?”

“Not interesting enough to distract me into changing the subject?” Darcy says. “And don’t try to tell me you’re fine, because you’re obviously not. What gives?”

Lucy’s smile takes a turn for the embarrassed. “I’d really prefer not to discuss it.”

Darcy shrugs, dropping her satchel on the coffee table. “Sure. But – house rule number two. I’m like Dolly Parton. Nobody cries alone in my presence.”

Lucy rubs the sleeve of her dark blazer across her cheek. “Well, no one’s crying here,” she says.

“Yeah,” Darcy says, rolling her eyes as she unwinds her scarf from around her neck. “Anymore.”

“Really,” Lucy says, but her fake smile looks a little less fake. “Please don’t concern yourself. It’s not anything – not anything you can help.”

“Okay,” Darcy says, tossing her scarf over the hook by the door, her hat on top of it. “Wanna eat our feelings and make fun of ANTM highlights?”

Lucy gives her a blink that Darcy’s starting to recognize as her ‘I-don’t-get-that-pop-culture-reference-but-I-don’t-want-to-look-like-I-don’t-get-that-pop-culture-reference’ look.

“America’s Next Top Model?” Darcy says. “Tyra Banks? We were all rooting for you?” Lucy still looks blank, so Darcy grabs her satchel and pulls out her laptop. “Oh, this is happening. Reality television is everything that’s wrong with society today, which is what I love about it.”

She plops down on the couch, propping her feet up on the coffee table and her laptop on her knees. When she looks up, Lucy still hasn’t moved. Darcy pats the seat beside her. “C’mon, you’re not gonna be able to see anything from up there.”

Lucy does her best impression of a spooked horse ready to bolt, staring at the cushion next to Darcy like it’s a coiled viper.

“I should get to the library,” she says, half-heartedly. “Study…”

“No, what you should get is that pint of Cherry Garcia out of the fridge and bring it over here,” Darcy says. “Oh, and two spoons.”

 …

 Bad Reality TV Night quickly becomes an apartment tradition. If by ‘tradition’ you mean ‘whenever we feel like it’, which Darcy does.

They catch up on the highlights of the Bachelor, Jersey Shore, and Survivor, though Lucy also seems to like ANTM best. It’s a good excuse to spend time together that doesn’t involve chores or schoolwork. And Darcy’s never been one for standing on ceremony, but a good icebreaker is a good icebreaker.

Better than a taser, at least.

 …

 “What on earth is that smell?”

Darcy looks up from the choking clouds of smoke billowing out of the oven, waving an arm to try to waft it out of the way. Lucy’s standing in the doorway with her scarf pulled up over her mouth and nose and both of her eyebrows raised in a look that somehow manages to convey a whole range of emotions, from ‘disappointed and only a little surprised’ all the way to ‘looks into the camera like she’s on The Office’.

“Bread,” Darcy says, in the face of all the evidence. And then, with a last mournful glance into the depths of the oven, “Okay, the artist formerly known as bread. But, I put the fire out.”

“The oven was on fire?!” Lucy asks, her expression going straight to ‘alarmed’, and Darcy coughs into her hand.

“Key word was. Oh, and by the way, we need more baking soda.”

“Do I want to know?”

“You use it to smother oven fires? C’mon, even I knew that.”

Lucy pauses, her expression going carefully blank for a moment. “I don’t…bake at all. Never have.”

“What? Like you don’t even stress bake?”

Lucy’s expression stays blank. “It wasn’t something I was ever encouraged to learn.”

Darcy slams the oven door shut on the last few sad poofs of smoke, straightening up. Forget the aftermath of her bread. This is way more important. “You seriously don’t stress bake? What do you do when somebody makes you so mad you just wanna stab them?”

“Usually, I stab them,” Lucy says, in a voice so dry that Darcy honestly can’t tell if she’s joking.

“Okay,” Darcy says, with a shrug. “But you usually get way less arrested if you take it out on some dough instead.”

“Was that what you were trying to do here?” Lucy asks, waving a hand in front of her face like she can just shoo the smoke away. Funny, for a second it almost seems to be actually working, but then she snorks up a lungful and almost doubles over coughing.

“Oh yeah,” Darcy says. “Professor Doucheface was on his A game today, so I needed something to knead.”

Lucy looks slightly stunned, coming down from her coughing fit, but the ghost of a smile makes its way across her face. “I gather that ‘Professor Doucheface’ is not his given name.”

“Oh, it’s his given name all right. I gave it to him. At the beginning of the semester when he circlejerked about Machiavelli with these two fratbros in the front row for twenty minutes.” Darcy rolls her eyes. One of these days she’s going to figure out how to roll them right back so all you can see are the whites. It’s gonna look so badass. “It was all downhill from there.”

Lucy hums a little in the back of her throat. “Machiavelli made some interesting points.”

“Not you too.” Darcy tries to wave some of the smoke towards the open window. It very much does not work. “I keep forgetting you’re a business student. Is your whole degree just learning how to be an evil mastermind?”

Lucy taps a finger against her chin, thoughtfully. “…it rather is, now that I consider it. But I suppose there are worse things one could be.”

“No offense, but, like what.”

Lucy laughs at that, but it doesn’t escape Darcy’s notice that she doesn’t actually have an answer. Which is not actually surprising. Because seriously.

“All right,” Darcy says, peeking inside the oven and coughing when she gets a faceful of smoke. “I’m gonna clean this out, and then – we’re making chocolate chip cookies.”

 …

 Introducing Lucy to stress baking is probably the best idea Darcy’s ever had, ever. After the first couple of oven fires and garbage batches, there are always freshly-baked sweet treats around the apartment, and it constantly smells delicious. Darcy would worry about Lucy’s mental state if all that baking hadn’t led her to master the chocolate-chip-to-cookie ratio in all its ooey gooey goodness. She’s since moved on to cupcakes, and Darcy has high hopes for Lucy’s buttercream technique.

It’s a couple of weeks later that Darcy comes home and finds the kitchen full of racks upon racks of cookies and cupcakes both. She only pauses long enough to stuff a chocolate-chip cookie in her face before she asks, “Okay, is it your own Professor Doucheface, or something else?”

Lucy doesn’t answer right away, and doesn’t take her eyes off her dough.

After what feels like an entire ice age, she says, “I tried. To recreate a pastry that I remembered from home.” She shakes her head, a long, dark curl falling out of her messy braid. “And I couldn’t.”

Darcy chews on that for a moment as she chews on cookie. “You’re homesick?”

Lucy pauses, tucking the stray lock of hair behind one ear and smearing a white streak of flour along one Morticia Addams cheekbone. She flashes a rueful grin in Darcy’s direction, before going back to almost angrily kneading the ball of dough on the countertop in front of her. “You must think it’s silly. It was my choice to leave, after all, and yet here I am, wallowing.”

Darcy shrugs, leaning over to snag another cookie from the cooling rack. They’re still warm, the chocolate all melty and goopy inside. Heaven. “I dunno. Like, you’re halfway across the world all on your own.” She turns her full attention to separating a particularly sticky chocolate chip from her teeth before saying, “Mostly I’m just surprised because your home sounds like it sucks a fat one.”

Lucy gives a sharp, brittle laugh, and shoves the heels of both hands into the dough with surprising viciousness. She doesn’t talk for a long moment after that, just kneading and kneading and kneading until Darcy has to look away or risk getting hypnotized.

“I get it, though,” she says, ignoring the flat, disbelieving glance Lucy shoots in her direction. “I mean, the farthest I’ve ever been from home was New Mexico, and no offense to Jane or Puente Antigua, but that place sucked.” She demolishes the last bite of cookie, and licks the remnants of chocolate chip from her fingers. Hey, waste not, want not, right? “Although that was at least fifty percent the government’s fault. But! The other half was not having anybody to just hang out with. Jane’s great, don’t get me wrong, but can you say obsessive. Okay, and the internet connection made dialup look like the wave of the future, and you couldn’t get Starbucks without driving three hours, and -”

Lucy’s giving her a blank look. Darcy snags another cookie and waves it dismissively, barely managing to catch the top piece when it unexpectedly breaks in half in her hand. “Point is, we gotta get you out and meet some people. And I guess maybe some decent fish and chips.”

Lucy snorts dismissively at that, her hands rolling back into motion. That bread’s gonna be way overworked, but Darcy figures that’s one she’ll let Lucy figure out for herself.

“Also, it probably wouldn’t kill you to call your mom once in a while,” she says, chomping down on her cookie. How many is that now? Better question, does it matter. They’re best right out of the oven anyway. “I know shit’s weird with your dad and everything, but it sounds like your mom wouldn’t mind knowing you haven’t been eaten by a bald eagle or fallen off Mount Rushmore or whatever. And it sounds like your brother cares about you a lot. Even if he is a doofus.”

Lucy’s face cracks in a big, surprised, unamused grin, and she shakes her head, turning away with a soft huff of laughter.

“My brother cares about the person he wishes me to be,” she says at last, giving the dough another vicious shove.

“You don’t have to talk to him. Just let your mom know you’re not dead, she can pass it on.”

Lucy doesn’t look up from the dough. “I’m not certain it’s a good idea for me to try to contact my family.”

“Really? ‘cause I am,” Darcy says. “Are you worried about the long-distance charges? I know tuition’s higher for international students, but I didn’t think it was that bad.”

Lucy glares down the dough. “You have no idea what price I paid to be here.”

“I mean, I have some idea,” Darcy says. “You do give me your half of the rent every month.”

Lucy looks up, and then bursts out laughing.

“I like you, Darcy Lewis,” she says, once she’s got herself back under control. “Do you want to apply your flawlessly straightforward logic to every aspect of my life?”

Darcy shrugs. “Point me at the problem. I guarantee you that in twenty-four hours, either the problem’ll be gone, or you’ll have a way bigger, different problem to worry about instead.”

 …

 Lucy still demurs every time Darcy tries to invite her along any time she’s meeting friends, though. By the third or fourth time she makes up some bullshit excuse, Darcy’s starting to get fed up.

So she invites everybody over to the apartment instead.

Lucy comes back from the library somewhere between pizza and wine. She freezes in the doorway with one arm outstretched, overcoat and houndstooth scarf arrested halfway to the hook on the wall. A brief flicker of panic races across her face before she smooths her expression out, hanging up her coat and shaking out her hair.

“Darcy?” she calls, breaking into a broad smile when she catches Darcy’s eye. “Having a few friends over?”

“Yeah, come grab a glass of wine,” Darcy calls back from the living room. “We could use one more for Cards Against Humanity.”

“Cards against…” Lucy echoes, hovering in the entryway. Obviously she’s not going to take the initiative, so Darcy gets up and makes for the kitchen.

“Do they not have Cards Against Humanity in the UK?” Jared asks from the floor beside the coffee table, as Darcy pours out the dregs of a bottle of red into one of the only clean glasses. After a moment’s thought, she tops it off with white. Hey, that’s all rosé is, right?

“Yeah, and actually, what is the difference between the UK, England, and Britain?” Ayesha asks. “I’ve never been able to get it right.”

“Rude,” Darcy says, making her way back into the living room. Lucy’s still standing in the entryway, but her posture doesn’t look quite so stiff anymore, and her shoulders are creeping down from around her ears. Still, she looks awfully relieved when Darcy hands her the novelty plastic cactus-shaped cup of wine. “Nosy here is Ayesha, that’s Jared, strong and silent in the recliner is Vince, and half-passed-out-on-the-couch-already is Rachel. Guys, say hi to Lucy.”

“The practically perfect in every way?” Rachel asks, lifting her head from the hilarious pillow with a picture of a pug in a bedazzled tiara. Lucy’s cheekbones and the tips of her ears go brightly pink, but her grin is wicked.

“Ooh, Darcy. What have you been saying about me.” She takes a sip of her wine, makes a face at it, and then settles herself down on one of the cushions Darcy’s tossed around the coffee table, carefully arranging her pencil skirt. “How do you play this game, then?”

 …

 They add ‘Cards Against Humanity night’ to the roster of apartment traditions. Nobody really seems to mind that Lucy wins almost every time. Beating her is an interesting challenge. Like Rachel says, she makes them get creative.

 …

 They’re catching up on Big Brother highlights when Lucy asks Darcy, “Would you ever audition for one of these shows?”

Darcy snorts. “Thanks, but no thanks. You?”

Lucy narrows her eyes, smiling thoughtfully at the screen. “I think I could win one. The only thing would be convincing the producers I’d be interesting enough to watch.” She turns that grin on Darcy. “You have an advantage there.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Darcy asks, crossing her arms with a good-natured glare.

Lucy flicks her eyes ceilingward with an expression of affected innocence. “Only that these shows seem to reward distinctive and outsized personalities.”

Darcy mentally translates that into English, then shrugs. “Hey, I’ve been accused of worse. I think.”

Lucy smiles, and says nothing.

“You’d need a gimmick,” Darcy says, watching one of the Big Brother girls hitting another with an inflatable palm tree. “Like…always referring to yourself in the third person, or insisting people call you ‘princess’, or something.”

Lucy’s smile goes a little tight around the edges, but she doesn’t comment.

“No. I don’t think I could stoop to that for any length of time,” she says, at last. “I suppose that’s another plan to cross off the list for once I complete my degree.”

“Do you know what you’re gonna do once you get outta here?” Darcy asks, with a glance over at Lucy. The inflatable palm tree fight got old fast.

Lucy doesn’t take her eyes from the laptop screen. “I thought I did.”

She really knows how to torpedo a mood, Darcy decides.

“Maybe I should audition for a reality show,” she says. “At least you know stuff about running a business. Probably. I mean, I don’t know, you could be failing out.”

Lucy huffs something that’s halfway to a laugh. “I assure you, I’m not failing out.”

“That’s what they all say,” Darcy says, reaching for a handful of popcorn.

Lucy glances in her direction, waiting until Darcy’s got her handful of popcorn before stealing the bowl and settling it into her lap. “What about that – Jane you worked for? Would she hire you back?”

Darcy snorts. Again. “Yeah, sure. If she couldn’t get anybody else.”

Lucy hums in the back of her throat. “Oh, never underestimate the power of being the only option. What were you doing for her, anyway?”

Darcy grimaces. “Making coffee, mostly. She’s an astrophysicist and I…am not.”

“Astrophysics?” Lucy asks, raising an eyebrow, a handful of popcorn apparently forgotten halfway to her mouth. “Now that sounds interesting.”

“Most of it went over my head,” Darcy says. “The wormhole stuff was pretty cool, though.”

Lucy doesn’t say anything, but her face is like a big flashing neon sign saying ‘tell me more’. Darcy’s not sure how much she’s actually allowed to say without a bunch of S.H.I.E.L.D. guys rolling up, smashing through all her windows, and whisking her off to some top-secret torture pit, though, so she just says, “Let’s just say science fiction didn’t get it totally wrong, for once.” She takes a sip of her coffee, staring Lucy down. “So what were you planning to do before whatever, and why aren’t you anymore?”

Lucy shakes her head. “Oh, no. Not if you get to leave me on that kind of a cliffhanger.”

Darcy rolls her eyes. “Okay. Guess we’re just gonna watch Big Brother, then.”

They watch Big Brother.

It’s about seven and a half minutes before Lucy says, slowly, “There is a…family business. My brother is the eldest, we always knew he would inherit, but -” She shakes her head again, tucking a lock of hair back behind her ear. “He’s never had much of a head for business. I had assumed I’d be – taken on in a managerial capacity, but with the state of things between me and my family now…”

“See, I’ve never got that,” Darcy says. “Why not just let the person who’s actually good at the thing do the thing?”

“Our father is, unfortunately, something of a traditionalist,” Lucy says.

Darcy rolls her eyes.

“But perhaps it’s all for the best,” Lucy continues, darting a smile in Darcy’s direction. “I’m finding that this really is the land of opportunity. Even if you occasionally have to make your own.”

It’d be a little unfair to leave her hanging after that – even that much of a confession is a lot, coming from tight-lipped Lucy – so Darcy does end up telling her a little about New Mexico. Leaving out the bits about the Men in Black and the buff space aliens, of course.

Lucy’s a good listener – she makes all the right faces at all the right times, and asks relevant questions without interrupting. Darcy actually ends up telling her a little more than she strictly meant to. Although, to be fair to Lucy, Darcy usually ends up telling everybody a little more about everything than she strictly means to. One of these days, she’s gotta get herself a brain-to-mouth filter.

“It sounds as though you enjoyed yourself,” Lucy says, when Darcy finally runs herself out.

“I guess,” Darcy says. “I mean, it kinda stank at the time – literally, it’s hot in New Mexico and Jane’s trailer had the shittiest shower hookup. But it was also kinda an adventure.” She shrugs. “Except the parts where we all nearly died. Jane really needs to learn not to hijack vans to drive directly at tornados.”

Lucy leans forward, setting the popcorn bowl back on the coffee table. “Is Jane still researching these Einstein-Rosen bridges?”

“Think so. She wants to make her own, eventually, but it didn’t sound like that was gonna happen anytime soon. Sounded like she’d need her own nuclear reactor to get enough oomph behind it.”

Lucy nods consideringly. “Well, if she’s still working in that area, you might reach out and see if she needs an assistant.”

Darcy rolls her eyes. “Yeah, sure. She’s got a couple articles published now. And funding. If she needs an assistant, she’s gonna pick somebody who knows the difference between a quark and a quasar.”

Lucy pouts dramatically at her. “Now, that doesn’t sound like the Darcy I know. Where’s that boundless confidence?”

“Taking a backseat to realism for five minutes? Like I said, I was the only applicant last time.”

“You only need an edge,” Lucy says, like it’s so super easy. “Make yourself stand out from the competition, demonstrate how you are the best candidate. You already have Jane’s confidence, that’s half the battle.” She winks at Darcy before adding, “Of course, you could always simply eliminate the other candidates, but I know your feelings on poison.”

“I’m never totally sure you’re joking when you talk about murder,” Darcy says.

“Because I’m not,” Lucy says, perfectly deadpan. “I am entirely sincere at all times.”

“Whatever. I’m gonna blame the accent.”

“What did you do when you applied the first time?” Lucy asks, going for another handful of popcorn and neatly sidestepping the conversation about her honestly worrying tendency to default to ‘when in doubt, stab them’. No wonder she likes Shakespeare.

“I just emailed Jane with the names and numbers of a bunch of my references,” Darcy says, going for her coffee again. “Like I said. Only applicant.”

The look Lucy gives her is probably the same look she gives to, like, baby animals that trip on their own tails. Like Darcy’s adorable, but only because she’s so pathetic.

“If there’s one thing you learn in business school,” she says, “it’s how to ace a job interview.”

“Excuse you,” Darcy says. “I interview great.”

Lucy says nothing, just looks Darcy up and down and then looks to her left with her eyebrows raised, like there’s a whole lot she could say but she’s politely restraining herself.

“Oh, what,” Darcy says, wiggling back further into the couch and re-crossing her arms. “Don’t give me that discreetly, Britishly rude shit. Spit it.”

A grin slowly sneaks its way across Lucy’s face, and she shakes her head with a laugh. “So forthright. And yet, so perceptive.”

“Well, you were broadcasting…pretty loud and clear,” Darcy points out.

“You’d be amazed what some people fail to pick up on,” Lucy says, half to herself.

“Whatever,” Darcy says. “Lay your wisdom on me, o business major. What’m I doing so obviously wrong?”

Lucy gives her a smile that only turns pitying a little at the end.

“Well, no one could doubt your confidence,” she says. “My only question is how you choose to channel it. I’m sure it’s admirable not to care about the impression one leaves upon others, but when one attempts to take on a new role, that impression is everything.”

Darcy waits, and when no more follows, shrugs.

“You don’t – ah – dress for success,” Lucy says, settling back on the couch with her back against the armrest, so she can look Darcy full in the face as she counts points off on her fingers. “You tend to treat punctuality as though it’s optional. Your forthrightness, while refreshing, could be seen to evidence a lack of tact or forethought – a tendency to charge in without thinking. Which, while a quality many seem to value in their leaders, is not in fact a strategy that frequently yields great success.”

“Unless you’re super buff and hot,” Darcy points out, thinking of Thor.

Lucy rolls her eyes, with a long-suffering sigh. “Yes. As your reality television proves quite handily, a great many rules have their exceptions if you are, as you say, ‘super buff and hot’.”

“Well, I’m already hot,” Darcy says. “So all I gotta do is hit the gym.”

Lucy gives her a flat, disbelieving look. Darcy makes direct eye contact, and flexes one arm, duckfacing before she leans over to kiss her nonexistent bicep.

She’s not sure which of them cracks up first, but she hopes it’s Lucy.

“Is that why you always dress like you’re just stopping in to the office to finish up the Johnson contract?” Darcy asks, when she gets her breath back. “Like, I know suits are required wearing for the business school, but you are allowed to wear, like, jeans or leggings or stuff on Saturdays.”

“I think it’s wise, to require a certain degree of presentation,” Lucy says, primly. “In many cases, the trappings of authority wield as much power as the authority itself. Others’ perception of you, of your legitimacy, is critical to exercising that authority.” She grins, wickedly. “Just ask Macbeth. Or any of the fools demanding your president’s birth video.”

Darcy rolls her eyes. “Please. Don’t remind me.” She very quickly seizes on the flaw in that logic, though. “But you’re not royalty - no, I know you’re not related to Queen Liz, don’t try that one on me again,” she adds, firmly, and Lucy rolls her eyes ceilingward with an innocent expression. “Or a president, or any other kind of leader of a country. You can get away with wearing jeans every once in a while, it’s not like nobody will ever take you seriously again.”

“So says the woman who wears nothing but jeans,” Lucy says, and then, her eyes crinkling up in a smile, “And has never once in her life been taken seriously.”

Darcy throws the pug pillow at her.

Lucy catches it with the ease of long practice, settling it behind her and making a big show of getting comfortable.

“Only a tiny fraction of a job interview – or, really, of any interaction - is its content. Like it or not, others draw conclusions from how you present yourself,” she says. “You want to present yourself in such a way that they draw the conclusions you wish them to draw.”

She looks at Darcy’s face, and sighs. “You need to learn to smize. But with your clothing, your body language, your choice of words. Smile without your mouth, speak without your words.”

Darcy blinks at her.

“Actually,” she says, “when you put it like that…that makes way more sense than just ‘you’re wearing that?’.”

Lucy gives her a broad, triumphant grin.

“Well,” she says. “If all it takes is a translation into Tyra Banks, there may be hope for you yet.”

Darcy looks around for something else to throw, but there’s nothing close to hand. Instead, she bobs her head in Lucy’s direction with a sarcastic glare. Lucy smiles back angelically.

“Don’t you ever get, like, tired of it, though?” Darcy asks, and Lucy’s smile suddenly goes blank behind the eyes. “I mean, always being on your best behaviour. Always overthinking what other people think of you -”

The smile drops off Lucy’s face so fast Darcy thinks it breaks the sound barrier. She could swear the temperature in the room drops ten degrees in ten seconds.

Lucy glares at the laptop for a long, chilly moment before she turns a haughty, challenging look on Darcy. “I do not have the luxury of airing my dirty laundry for the world to see.”

“So you’re just gonna fake it, forever?” Darcy asks, feeling a little sideswiped. This conversation has taken a turn, and she’s not totally sure she likes the direction it’s going now. “That’s stupid.”

“You may try that flawless line of reasoning on my father,” Lucy says coldly.

Darcy shrugs. “I mean, if you’ll pay for my plane ticket. Or, like, call him, ever.”

“You have no idea what it’s been like, the kind of pressure -” Lucy starts, her voice low, her stare intense under lowered brows, but Darcy cuts her off.

“What, you think just because I don’t care what other people think about me, that I don’t notice it? Yeah, I know most people don’t absolutely love it when you just say whatever and never shut up. Total shocker.”

“All the more reason to have a care what face you present to the world.”

Suddenly, Darcy’s irritated, with Lucy, with Lucy’s whole Hamlet act, with the whole stupid world. “Oh, get over yourself. Like I’ve never tried. Do you really think I wouldn’t love to just always know what I’m doing wrong before I do it and be able to turn it off?”

Lucy’s expression softens, subtly, at that. “Believe me when I say I do understand. You’re far from the only one who’s unacceptable to the world the way they are.”

“Who gets to decide what’s ‘acceptable’, anyway? Because I feel like we should find them and like, gag them and toss them in a basement somewhere.” Darcy shakes her head. “I don’t want to pretend I’m something I’m not just to impress some randos. Sooner or later, they always find out I’m, well, me, and then I’ve wasted a bunch of time I could’ve spent watching cat videos. With people who actually like me.”

Darcy’s aware that Lucy’s watching her, very intently, and shrugs again, suddenly embarrassed by how much personal garbage she’s just spewed at a near-stranger. Darcy Lewis’ Lack of Filter strikes again.

“So like…yeah,” she concludes, lamely.

The smile Lucy gives her is a weak imitation of her usual confidence.

“An admirable philosophy, Polonius,” she says, sounding just a little too wistful for the sarcasm to really bite.

“Oh, fuck you,” Darcy sighs, flopping back against the arm of the couch with her arms akimbo, huffing a stray curl out of her face. “Sorry we can’t all be practically perfect in every way.”

There’s a moment of unbelievably glassy silence.

“I’m far from perfect,” Lucy says, quietly, at last.

“Sure,” Darcy says. “I just don’t know it, because I’ve never seen the ‘real’ you. Because you won’t chill out around anybody. And then you’ll get mad and resentful that I don’t get the ‘real’ you and it’ll all end in tears.” She bobs her head back up so she can look Lucy in the face. “Or, you could stop treating your life like it’s a job interview, follow my lead, and dump all your messy, complicated feelings on somebody you’ve known for like a month with no warning.”

Lucy’s face doesn’t change, and Darcy, unable to stop her face from saying words even under the best of circumstances, adds, “Y’know. Like we’re friends.”

The look Lucy gives her is entirely unreadable. Darcy gives it her best effort for maybe ten seconds anyway, then gives up trying.

“Just a suggestion,” she says, as Lucy rises from the couch.

“It’s been a long day,” Lucy says, avoiding eye contact. “And tomorrow will be as well. I’d best turn in.”

“Coward,” Darcy calls after her, as she starts down the hall. “Don’t be afraid of the overshare!”

She considers getting up and grabbing the pug pillow to throw at Lucy again, but decides it seems like too much effort.

 …

 The next morning, Darcy catches Lucy in the kitchen before she leaves for class, which is unusual. Still, Darcy Lewis has never been one to look the proverbial gift horse in its proverbial gift mouth.

“Hey, I’m sorry about last night,” she says, as she pours coffee into her cocoa puffs. “If I was outta line, or stepped over some boundaries…you know.”

Lucy blinks at the bowl of bobbing pale-brown cereal in dark-brown coffee, but says nothing, just passes Darcy the milk so she can add it to her creation.

“I apologise, as well,” she says, at last, with a brief, bright, not-entirely-convincing smile. “Some measure of what you said…touched a nerve.”

“I figured,” Darcy says. “It’s what I do best. Touch nerves, get jobs I’m not qualified for, make killer playlists.”

She meets Lucy’s eyes, and they share a smile.

“I’m not… I don’t share myself the way you do,” Lucy says, at last, turning to the cupboards for a spoon to stir her coffee. “I don’t believe I could, or that I’d wish to. But…”

She pauses to take a long sip of her coffee, the spoon still in it. “This past year, I’ve learned a few things about myself that I…am having difficulty coming to terms with. Things I’m afraid have not provoked a positive response from those I’ve chosen or been obliged to share with. I – it helps, to present myself carefully, to know I have some choice in how others perceive me. To have some measure of control.” Lucy gives the coffee another stir, staring into its spiral. “To be certain they aren’t seeing – certain aspects of myself that I’d prefer not to exist.”

“Wait,” Darcy says, trying to shuffle all of those pieces into order in her mind. “You’re insecure about your appearance?”

Over the top of her coffee mug, Lucy skewers her with a glare.

“Yeah, okay, fair. I guess it was a shitty thing to say anyway.”

Lucy turns her stare down into her coffee. “Perhaps this does make me a coward.”

“What? No way,” Darcy says. “It’s smart. Just, like, as a sometimes thing. Did you miss the part where I said if I could pretend to be a normal person, I would?”

“You shouldn’t,” Lucy says. “If you could, you wouldn’t be Darcy.”

Darcy bites her bottom lip.

“Thanks,” she says. “I think.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Lucy says, smoothly, a mischievous smile starting to play around her lips. “Take it as a compliment.”

Darcy aims a kick in her direction, which misses by a mile, then settles down to eat her cereal experiment.

“Well, this is terrible,” she says, a few bites in.

“I honestly don’t know what you expected,” Lucy says.

 …

 Professor Doucheface isn’t at the front of the class one afternoon not long after that. The smiling woman who’s taken his place explains that he’s taken a leave of absence and will be back when he’s back, which might not be before the end of the semester.

Darcy cracks a bottle of wine as soon as she gets home and hauls Lucy out of her room to do a toast with her. And then do karaoke with her. She’s pretty sure Lucy’s big, smug grin is just her being happy for Darcy, but still. It’s nice to see her smile.

She sucks at karaoke, though. Doesn’t know any of the words.

 …

  When Jane turns up at the apartment, it’s Lucy who answers the door. Darcy’s in her room working very hard, thank you, on a presentation about the Euro crisis using ‘Call Me Maybe’ as a learning aid. So she can’t really be blamed if she doesn’t hear the first time Lucy knocks on her door. Or the second. Or the third.

When Darcy finally ventures forth on a quest for snackage, Jane and Lucy are both sitting in the living room, Jane holding forth about some science-y thing, complete with hand gestures, while Lucy looks fascinated and occasionally nods encouragingly. She’s either the best polite listener in the history of polite listeners, or she’s actually interested in this wormhole stuff.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were into astrophysics,” Darcy says, when Jane pauses for breath, and both Jane and Lucy turn to look at her with identical guilty expressions. Darcy can’t help but laugh. “Oh my god, you guys should see yourselves. You look like my mom’s dog when she shredded the cat’s catnip mouse. The cat loved it, though. She was trippin’ for hours.”

Now they’re both kind of looking blank. Jane shakes it off first. “I do actually need to talk to you, Darcy.”

“Hit me,” Darcy says, collapsing onto the couch beside her.

Jane doesn’t move, but her eyes dart in Lucy’s direction. “Do you want to go grab a coffee or something?”

“Ah,” Lucy says, looking from Jane to Darcy and back again. “I have plenty of studying to do. I’ll be in my room.” She pushes herself up from the armchair, smoothing down her skirt – a super cute A-line that Darcy would never wear but that totally works on somebody as tall and bony as Lucy. “Thank you, Dr. Foster, I found our conversation most…enlightening.”

“Oh, please, call me Jane,” Jane says, standing up herself and sticking out her right hand. Lucy blinks at it for half a second before taking it and giving it a very professional shake, with a brilliant smile. Darcy can’t help but notice that the height difference between them is hilarious. She always forgets how tiny Jane is. “Always a pleasure to meet young people with an actual interest in my field.” The look Jane gives Darcy is a little too fond to be a glare.

“Hey, I have an actual interest in your field,” Darcy argues. “I’m very interested in the easy science credits it bagged me.”

“ ‘Easy’ science credits?” Jane says, in mock disbelief, as Lucy heads down the hallway. “I seem to recall somebody saying she refused to die for six college credits…”

Lucy’s bedroom door shuts with a solid thunk, and Jane waits a couple of minutes before turning back to Darcy. Minutes? Probably seconds. Minutes are always longer than Darcy thinks. Or shorter, depending on the day and whether people are talking. “I know I only met her once, but I thought your roommate was…shorter. And less British.”

“Oh yeah. Melissa. She totally flaked on me while you and I were out playing X-Files in the desert,” Darcy says. “Lucy’s doing an exchange…thing. So what’s up?”

“Do you have something lined up for after graduation?” Jane asks.

“Depends. Do you still want to pay me in college credits?”

Jane rolls her eyes. “No. I actually have a budget now, thanks to S.H.I.E.L.D., but it’s been hell on wheels trying to get somebody cleared to come work for me. They want it to be all ‘need-to-know’. But they need to know!”

“What about Selvig?” Darcy asks. Her stomach chooses this unfortunate moment to remind her why she came out of her room in the first place, and she furiously thinks at it to be cool. She might have an actual job lined up if she plays her cards right, here. One where she can goof off for money and gorgeous men literally rain from the sky. No way she’s letting a little Oreo craving get between her and that.

Jane shakes her head. “There’s some mystery project the director’s apparently been courting him for. Even if he’d want to, he doesn’t have time to run around after me chasing storms.”

“Ooh, mystery project,” Darcy says. “That sounds prestigious. And expensive. D’you think he’s hiring?”

Jane gives her a flat look. “They won’t even tell me what it is. No way they’re letting you within a hundred feet of it.”

Darcy shrugs. “Hey, it was worth a shot. Just wanna know what my options are, in case I decide to play hardball.” She considers it a moment. Not so long ago, Darcy would’ve jumped – well, okay, not jumped, casually agreed to, nobody who’s built like Darcy does much jumping – at the opportunity. But not so long ago, Darcy had not had a business major for a roommate. Lucy’s taught her a thing or two about negotiating and knowing her worth. Pretty much all of which she’s throwing out the window right now, but hey, it’s the thought that counts. “How much can you pay me, anyway?”

Jane names a figure. Darcy chokes on her own spit.

“Do you need me to drop out and start now?” she asks, when she can breathe like a normal person again. “ ‘cause I can drop out and start now.”

Jane huffs a soft laugh. “Finish your degree. I’m sure I’ll burn through the last few S.H.I.E.L.D. lab techs who’re willing to put up with me, and the spot’ll be open for you to step into before you even take off the cap and gown.”

“How sure?” Darcy asks, because, well, she doesn’t want Lucy to have had to break her best job interview tips down into pieces of Tyra’s advice for nothing. “Do I get, like, something to sign? Anything in writing?”

Jane actually laughs this time. “Yes. That’s why I didn’t just call. Well, that and the possibility of wiretaps.” She reaches down by her feet for the brown canvas messenger bag Darcy hadn’t really paid much attention to. “There’s, uh, a formal offer…”

Her smile turns apologetic, and Darcy just has time to feel a wave of the ominouses build over her before Jane pulls out a stack of printer paper an inch and a half thick. “And, uh, a couple of non-disclosure agreements. Oh, and a background check. And another background check, except this one’s off the record, because it’s being done technically illegally by a defected Soviet spy.”

“You’re joking, right,” Darcy says.

Jane gives her a smile that’s half a wince, and a pen.

 …

 By the time Lucy pops back out of her room in search of dinner, Darcy’s wrist aches something fierce, to match the throb behind her eyes from all the tiny, tiny, extremely important print, and she’s pretty sure the index finger on her right hand is never going to be the same again. But none of that matters, because Darcy Lewis Has A Job.

“Right out of school!” she crows, shaking out her hand. “How about that, Mom? Oh, and, there’s science in poli-sci, so, like, it’s even using my major. Using half my major. Does that count?”

Lucy looks at her over the mug of tea she’s just poured herself. “For purposes of proving your parent wrong? Oh, absolutely.”

“What?” Darcy says, and then remembers Lucy’s life across the pond is a soap opera. “Oh, no, my mom just – she was worried. Poli-sci was my…third? Third major in two years. She really wanted me to make my mind up, or at least pick something that would guarantee I wouldn’t be moving back in with her after graduation. She’ll be so super proud.”

Lucy doesn’t say anything, just blows softly across the surface of her tea and kind of stares into the middle distance.

“You know what this calls for?” Darcy says, before the buzz can get any more killed. “Champagne. Lots of champagne.”

Lucy focuses back on her, quirking an eyebrow up with a hint of a smirk. “Job offer or not, you still can’t afford champagne.”

“Nope,” Darcy says, popping the ‘p’. “But I can afford fizzy wine, and I can’t tell the difference.”

 …

 “Gotta ask,” Darcy says, as they stand in the walk-in cooler, staring at the bottles of prosecco, “does your family really suck that much? Because I’m gonna feel like a real asshole for trying to make you phone your mom.”

Lucy doesn’t say anything for a long moment, just studying the glass bottles on the shelf in front of her. Maybe it’s the coat (it’s a nice coat, really thick and heavy, as Darcy learned when she had to pick it up every time it fell off the hooks by the door), or the scarf, or maybe Lucy’s just naturally cold-blooded, but she hasn’t shivered yet. Darcy, on the other hand, wore a spring jacket and is regretting it.

“I wouldn’t say, ‘suck’,” Lucy says, at last, slowly.

“No, you’d say, like, ‘bollocks’ or something,” Darcy says, stuffing her hands in her pockets. Lucy’s face unfreezes, and she darts a bright grin in Darcy’s direction, though there’s still something sad around her eyes.

“I like you, Darcy,” she says. “But unfortunately, not everything is so simple as you like to think.”

Darcy shrugs, without taking her hands out of her pockets. “I dunno. Sometimes people just make things complicated for themselves.”

They spend another quiet moment studying the fizzy wine, before Darcy shakes out her hands with a puff of breath. “Okay, do you actually have an opinion on what we drink, or are you just trying to avoid talking to me? Because if it’s the second one, I’m picking the cheapest bottle and getting out of here. I’m freezing.”

“Oh,” Lucy says, like she forgot they were standing in a refrigerator, and then reaches up and grabs a bottle of prosecco that is pretty clearly not the cheapest bottle on the shelf. “Here. I’ll treat.”

Darcy watches her suspiciously. “I thought you were broke.”

“Not so broke that I’ll drink that barely-alcoholic swill you call fizzy wine, thank you,” Lucy says primly, and Darcy can’t help but laugh.

“Thanks,” she says, once they’re through the checkout and back out on the sidewalk, Lucy pressing the bag holding their prosecco into her hands. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Lucy gives her a smile that’s just a little unsettling. “I should be thanking you, Darcy. You’ve done more for me than you know.”

Darcy squirms internally under the attention. “We’re roommates. We do roommate stuff. Nothing special.”

Lucy bobs her head back and forth, like she doesn’t agree but she won’t come right out and object. “You opened your home to me. You’ve shown me hospitality above and beyond what was required of you. I won’t forget it.”

Darcy shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “Well, don’t mention it. But if I’m ever in London and need a place to crash -”

Lucy’s smile is brilliant. “Oh, I expect that if you’re ever in London, you’ll look me up. I’ll take you out for fish and chips and we can tour the Tower.”

“Haunted murder prison. Sounds like a blast,” Darcy says. “You better take me on that giant Ferris wheel, too. I promise not to barf on anybody this time.”

Lucy blinks at her. “ ‘This time’?”

 …

 Exam season hits them both hard. Darcy spends a lot of time in the coffee shop, loading up on espressos in a desperate bid to keep herself awake after the string of all-nighters she’s pulled. Lucy practically moves into the library. Darcy doesn’t see her except in the apartment doorway, once, when she’s grabbing some books for class, and even then it’s only for long enough to say ‘hi’ and then ‘bye’ again.

Jane calls about a week and a half, maybe two weeks after Darcy signs the unbearable stack of documents. For one horrifying second, Darcy thinks the ex-Soviet spy turned up some dreadful, sordid thing in her family history and she’s not getting the job after all. But Jane doesn’t even mention the job. She barely even says hello. “Have you heard from Erik? I’ve been trying to get in touch, but he’s not answering his phone. Or his emails.”

“You did say he’s working on some top-secret classified mystery thing,” Darcy points out. “If I had to sign that many NDAs, I bet they’re taking no chances on him blabbing.”

“I know, it’s just – it’s not like him,” Jane says, and her worry’s a little bit contagious, even through the phone. “Wouldn’t he have warned somebody if he was going to have to go dark? Warned me?”

“Jane. C’mon,” Darcy says. “He’s a grown man. He can take care of himself.”

“Darcy,” Jane says, shortly. “You were there when he told us about his friend.”

“Yeah, but S.H.I.E.L.D. did that,” Darcy counters. “The people who hired him. Who vanishes their own employees?”

“People like S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Jane says grimly. “Let me know if you hear from him, all right?”

“Well, if he’s not talking to you, the chances of him friending me on Facebook or whatever are pretty low.”

“Darcy,” Jane sighs, “just say, ‘Yes, Jane’.”

“Yes, Jane,” Darcy parrots into the phone.

 …

 It’s been almost another week, almost a week since the last time she saw Lucy. Darcy’s holed up in her favourite campus coffeeshop, nursing her fourth – fifth? – latte of the afternoon, when the TV silently playing old episodes of Friends cuts to a news break.

It’s a short clip, repeating over and over. Some dude who looks more like an extremely glam pop star in a ridiculous costume than anything, and at first, with the sound off, that’s what Darcy thinks it is. Some dude trying to get in on the Gaga-Katy Perry weird costume trend. Looks like he might be singing to a big crowd in an outdoor arena. He’s really givin’ it, if the face he’s making is anything to go by. Probably a high E or something. The blue spotlight they’ve got on him is not flattering.

It’s about time the weird costume trend took off for dudes, if you ask Darcy. If she has to see another candy-shaped bra, she’s gonna throw up in her mouth.

She’s turning back to her textbooks when something makes her look back up. Some nagging feeling in the back of her head, like there’s something she should be remembering. She’s seen a tacky horned helmet like that before. Somewhere.

The dude in the costume doesn’t really look like he’s singing anymore, either. The camera zooms shakily towards his face, and Darcy’s forced to admit that most pop stars don’t glower at their audiences quite so much. It’s a crappy, glitchy feed, and the moment the guy makes eye contact with the camera, it washes out in a haze of electric blue. But it’s still long enough for Darcy to get an eyeful of pale, pretty, and pointy.

She’s seen a face like that somewhere, too. Recently.

“Oh,” Darcy mutters into her latte, and finally settles on, “shit.”

 …

 “Hi, this is Dr. Jane Foster -”

“Jane?” Darcy tries not to yell into the phone. “Listen, I need to know how far you are into getting this bridge thing working -”

“I’m unable to come to the phone right now,” Jane’s voice continues, blithely, “but leave your name and number at the tone and I’ll return your call as soon as I can.”

“Dammit, Jane, are you screening your calls? That’s a new level of paranoia, even for you,” Darcy says, over the beep. “Come on! It’s me! It’s Darcy! Pick up!”

Jane does not pick up. All Darcy gets is a dirty look from everyone within earshot. Including the librarian.

“Is there something I can help you find?” she asks, pointedly. Obviously she’s just trying to embarrass Darcy into shutting up and going away, because she looks a little startled when Darcy hangs up her phone and pockets it, stomping up to the desk like a woman on a mission. Which she is.

“Yeah, actually, there is,” Darcy says, leaning heavily against the counter and making aggressive eye contact with the librarian. “I need everything you’ve got on Norse mythology.”

The librarian looks startled for a moment, before her expression turns professional again. She turns to her computer, taps a few keys on her keyboard, glancing briefly up at Darcy. “Okay, so all our translations of the Eddas are checked out right now, but there are a few interpretive texts available, and some articles -”

“Don’t you have, like, a ‘Norse Mythology for Dummies’?” Darcy asks, and the librarian gives her a look that clearly says she, the librarian, knows Darcy is going to fail whatever class this is for.

“Try the education library,” she says.

 …

 The education library is full of children’s books. Darcy would be insulted, except that she finds the exact book Selvig had brought back to show her and Jane, wedged on a shelf between a fat picture book on Greek mythology and the gold spine of Egyptology. Darcy pauses a moment to let a flood of fond memories pass over her – hey, any book that was shiny gold and had a big plastic gem stuck in the front cover was the coolest ever when you were, like, twelve – before pulling out the book on Norse mythology and finding herself a table. Thankfully, the furniture is all scaled for adult-sized people.

Darcy slams the book open, flipping past the sections on Yggdrasil and the nine realms, pausing briefly on the pages about Thor, before she finally finds what she was looking for. The illustration’s…weasellier-looking than she remembers, the face way pointier, but that is definitely, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the helmet she’d just seen on TV.

Darcy shakes her head, turning her attention to the text that goes with the image. The book’s laid out more like an encyclopedia than a storybook, which is good, because right now Darcy just needs as much information as possible in as little time as possible.

She’s just about finished reading the section when her phone rings. It’s Jane, sounding almost frantic. “Darcy! What’s going on, are you okay?”

“What? Yeah, I’m fine,” Darcy says, and Jane lets out a sigh that’s one part relief, two parts frustration.

“Then what was the panicky phone message about?”

“Panicky? On what planet?”

“Darcy, you were already talking when the recording started, and you just kept yelling at me to pick up. I thought you were being abducted.”

Darcy thinks back to the phone call, and is forced to admit Jane has a point. “I’m okay,” she says. “Aside from the part where I might be sharing an apartment with a homicidal Norse god.”

Jane’s end of the line goes dead silent.

“Jane?” Darcy asks.

“No,” Jane says, and then, like she’s warming up, “No, the bridge still isn’t working, they couldn’t -”

“Jane,” Darcy repeats, interrupting before Jane can really get going. “Checked the news lately?”

She can almost hear Jane deflate through the phone.

“Why wouldn’t he have contacted me?” she says, in this terrible small voice that Darcy feels a wash of secondhand embarrassment just listening to. “If he could get through, why not -”

“Jane,” Darcy says, a third time. “Focus.”

Jane seems to remember she has an audience. She clears her throat, dropping the pitch of her voice. Darcy can picture her, easily, shutting her eyes and shaking her head as she pulls herself together. “What do you mean, sharing an apartment?”

“I mean, how much did you tell Lucy about generating Einstein-Rosen bridges?” Darcy says. “Also, how loud were we talking about Selvig’s big break?”

“Not – I mostly kept to the theory, you know I signed a few non-disclosures of my own – Darcy, what -”

“I’m just asking,” Darcy says, drumming her fingers against the little weaselly illustration. “Because from what I’ve been reading, people tend to just, like, tell Loki stuff if he asks while he’s shapeshifted into a woman.”

There’s another, longer pause.

“No,” Jane says, again.

Darcy nods, before remembering Jane can’t see her. “Kinda think so. I know I should’ve been worried when she turned up so conveniently after Melissa flaked, but I just thought she was gonna skin me and wear my face over her face or something like that.”

Jane pauses again before she speaks, but it doesn’t somehow sound so heavy. “Did I know how graphic your imagination was when I first hired you?”

“Only applicant, remember?” Darcy says. “Look, it all lines up. The family drama, the my brother spent some time here and he believes it did him a world of good, the accent, the way she keeps just disappearing at really weird times for hours or days at a time – I don’t know if I’ve ever actually seen her in a classroom or with a textbook – and she doesn’t know anything about music. Or get cold like a normal person, and there’s something here about…frost giants? Also, one of his nicknames is ‘Sky-Walker’, and apparently, in like Norwegian, that ‘oh’ in his name should be an ‘oo’ -”

“Darcy,” Jane says, firmly. “Breathe.”

“I am totally breathing,” Darcy protests. “Look, after you offered me the job, she bought us a bottle of sparkling wine and thanked me really cryptically and I basically haven’t seen her since. And in that time, Selvig’s dropped off the map, and a supervillain calling himself Loki who could be her fraternal twin pops up and starts chewing German scenery in a helmet that looks exactly like the one in this book.” Darcy sits back in her chair, bouncing off the back. “Also, I told her about this professor who was a total pain in my ass, and like two weeks later he was on leave for ‘undisclosed reasons’ and he still hasn’t come back.”

“This…could all be a coincidence,” Jane says, lamely.

“Oh yeah. Same way that weird homeless guy you kept hitting with your car showing up inside that storm was all a coincidence,” Darcy says. “Oh, my god. I’ve been watching ANTM highlights with a supervillain.”

“Okay, stay calm,” Jane says, in a voice that does absolutely nothing to make Darcy feel any more calm. “Does she know you know?”

“Are you kidding? I didn’t even put it together until, like, twenty minutes ago. God! I ate her chocolate-chip cookies!”

“Is she with you? Do you think you’re in any immediate danger?” Jane asks, being infuriatingly reasonable for somebody who was helpless with heartbreak not five minutes ago.

“No,” Darcy admits. “I don’t think so. Oh, shit!”

“What?” Jane gasps.

Darcy groans. “Left my taser at the apartment.”

 …

 Darcy stays late at the coffee shop, reluctant to go back to the apartment. Sure, she hasn’t seen Lucy in weeks and has no reason to think that’s going to suddenly change. And sure, nothing she’s read makes it sound like the god who might be her roommate can read minds. There’s no way, even if she did run into Lucy, that Lucy would be able to tell that Darcy knows.

Except for the part where she’s the literal god (goddess?) of lies and Darcy’s a mediocre actress at best. Yep. No way she’s gonna notice anything’s different. Or anything.

Fuck. Darcy is so, so screwed.

When the coffee shop closes and kicks her out, Darcy migrates to the library. When the library closes and kicks her out, Darcy complains very loudly that they aren’t staying open 24/7 for exam season. Her one-woman protest has absolutely no effect whatsoever.

Darcy stands on the sidewalk outside the library doors, shivering in the chilly night air, and wonders if one of her friends would let her crash at their place overnight. She considers it for a minute before realizing that just figuring out how to ask would probably end up making things even more complicated than they already are.

Finally, Darcy decides she’s cold enough, tired enough, and grumpy enough to take her chances heading back to the apartment. So what if Lucy’s there? So is her taser.

“Tased a Norse god once,” Darcy mutters, under her breath, as she slouches determinedly towards the bus depot, hoping they haven’t stopped running for the night as well. “Can do it again.”

By the time she gets back to the apartment, Darcy’s so wound up that she jumps involuntarily when she opens the door. But there’s nothing to freak out about. Lucy’s coat isn’t hanging on the hooks by the door, which is a sure sign that she’s still out. Darcy wonders, for half a second, where she is if the library’s closed, and then feels incredibly stupid.

“Supervillainy. Right,” she says, into the empty apartment, tossing her coat in the general direction of the hooks. She double-checks the lock on the apartment door, brushes her teeth and washes her face, and then very carefully locks herself in her bedroom. After a moment’s consideration, she wedges her deskchair under the handle, too.

It takes Darcy a very long time to fall asleep.

 …

 She’s woken at some ungodly hour by a crash that has her leaping up out of bed, half-convinced somebody’s trying to break down her door. It takes Darcy a moment to boot her brain up out of sleep mode and realise it was just the chair falling over.

 …

 It takes another panicked phone call from Jane before Darcy remembers she was supposed to check in when she got home last night. She only just manages to talk Jane down from calling in S.H.I.E.L.D., which might seem a little crazy at first blush, but makes a lot of sense if you think about it. Yeah, okay, so maybe Darcy’s been living with the Big Bad of the week, but she doesn’t actually know that for sure, and it’s not like she has any useful information about any nefarious plans, and said Big Bad hasn’t even been around lately, and – look, it just doesn’t seem like a good idea. Darcy’s keeping an eye on the news, and it looks like they’ve got it under control. They don’t need Jane and Darcy butting in. They’re handling it.

Plus, she really, really doesn’t want her iPod confiscated again.

Darcy’s been walking on eggshells all day, jumping at every little noise, before she finally decides she’s done. She’s over it. Either her roommate is a homicidal extraterrestrial, or she isn’t. Either she’s going to totally murder Darcy and wear her skin like a – okay, she’s overusing that one. Either she’s going to totally murder Darcy and use her skull as a drinking horn or whatever, or she isn’t. And either way, there’s not a whole lot Darcy can do about it. So worrying about it like this is pointless.

What would be less pointless would be finding out 1) whether Lucy really is secretly an evil alien god, and 2) if she is, what to do about it.

 …

 To: lucy

From: darcy

house rule #3: if ur a supervillian u have 2 tell me.

 Read at 5:47 PM

 …

 It isn’t even a full day later that the Chitauri attack New York.

 …

 Darcy gets home from the library late, on purpose, though she doesn’t really expect to find Lucy there after the day’s top news stories. The apartment’s dark when she swings the door open, and gets darker when she slams the door behind her, blocking out the light from the hall.

Darcy slouches into the kitchen without turning on a light, throwing open the fridge instead. After staring blankly into its cold white glow for what feels like half an hour but is most likely less than five minutes, and still not having the secrets of the universe or of what she wants to eat revealed unto her, she shuts the door again and turns toward the hall and her bedroom.

“Darcy.”

Darcy is not too ashamed to admit that she screams like a little girl. She jumps backwards, fumbling for her taser, at the sound of a voice from the pitch-dark mouth of the hall.

The hall light blooms to life, revealing Lucy standing by the lightswitch. Under the circumstances, this is not actually a reassuring sight.

“Holy shit, you scared the pee out of me,” Darcy gasps, and Lucy’s eyes crinkle up at the corners in an apologetic smile. “Don’t lurk dramatically in the shadows like that, you’re gonna give somebody a heart attack.”

“I was waiting for you,” Lucy says, which is also not very reassuring, under the circumstances. Darcy’s questing fingers find her taser tucked into the pocket of her jacket, and close over it. “I wanted to talk.”

“You could’ve just texted me back,” Darcy points out.

“In person,” Lucy says.

“Great,” Darcy’s traitor mouth says. “Great, nothing about that sounds unnecessarily ominous, or anything.”

Lucy huffs a soft laugh, turning her face away from Darcy for a moment. Darcy can’t read her expression through the shadows the hall light casts over her eyes and the curtain of dark hair that falls in front of her face.

“I have the feeling,” she says, her eyes flicking in Darcy’s direction, bright even in shadow, “that you suspect I’m keeping something from you.”

“What?” Darcy laughs, nervously. “Why would you think that?”

“Possibly the fact that you’re right.” Lucy’s voice is wry, her mouth twisted in a smile, but all Darcy can see in her eyes is fear. “Darcy…I’ve lied to you.”

So this is happening. Darcy makes herself breathe at a normal human person rate. All things considered, she feels like she’s doing pretty good keeping her cool here. Like, sure, okay, she was totally chill around Thor, but she also never really got the vibe that he might stab her if she looked at him funny. And, as far as Darcy knows, he never actually has stabbed anybody for looking at him funny. So there’s that.

Lucy takes a deep breath, meeting Darcy’s eyes with an expression half steely resolve, half unspoken regret. “I’m not really a business student.”

“Yeah,” Darcy says, her heart hammering in her throat, fingers curling tighter around the reassuring shape of the taser in her pocket. “I know.”

Lucy’s head snaps up, eyes going wide. “You know? But – I was so careful -”

Darcy makes a face. “Were you, though?”

Lucy – Loki? - looks away again, with a soft huff that’s almost a laugh. “No. I suppose I wasn’t.” There’s that strange wistfulness in her voice again as she says, “I did everything – everything – to try to impress my father, became everything he wanted, and it was never enough. I suppose…deep down, I wanted someone to see through the lie. To know. And not to care. Who – and what – I truly am.”

She turns back to Darcy, her smile wide and white and, for once, purely and genuinely happy.

“I’m a thespian,” she says.

Darcy blinks at her.

“Sorry, run that one by me again,” she says, sticking her pinkie into her ear and giving it a good wiggle.

Lucy’s still grinning ear to ear. “I’ve changed my major. You were right, Darcy. ‘To thine own self be true’. I’ve spent my life living for other people, but I have to live with the choices I make. It’s time I did something for myself.”

“So you’re…going into theatre,” Darcy says, slowly, still trying to catch up.

“Have gone into theatre,” Lucy says. “I changed my major after that night, when we talked. I’m in theatre arts now. I’m going to be an actress.”

“I,” Darcy says, and realizes that, for the first time in a very long time, she, Darcy Lewis, is at a loss for words. “Uh.”

Lucy’s expression doesn’t really change, but her jaw sets in trembling defiance. “You think I’m foolish.”

“What? No, I was just expecting something a little more mythological.”

Lucy frowns at her, Darcy’s perceived rejection apparently forgotten in confusion. “Sorry?”

“Nothing. Forget I said that.” Darcy blinks a few more times, and then manages, “Congratulations, though. You’re the most dramatic person I know, it’s a perfect fit.”

“Well, that’s still a more positive response than my father had when he learned of my intentions to drop business school,” Lucy says, her eyes shining, but some genuine humour in the quirk of her mouth. “Thank you. I don’t know if I’d’ve found the courage without you. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

“Wow,” Darcy says, suddenly feeling extremely guilty about suspecting her of being an alien supervillain. “Uh, thanks.”

Lucy’s smile falters, and she looks down at her feet. “Now, though, I suppose I shall have to break the news to my family. With the semester over, at least they can’t threaten to cut me off again.”

“Well,” Darcy manages, mentally shoving her thoughts off the rail they’d been on and onto a parallel set of tracks. “You already seem happier. If your family really cares about you, they’ll see that and be happy for you too.”

“My theatre final is a one-act stageplay,” Lucy says. “It’s tomorrow night at the campus theatre. I’d like for you to come.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Darcy says.

  …

 The play is…all right. As plays go. It’s all about adults having Serious Conversations, which is so not Darcy’s scene. Give her elaborate costumes and musical numbers any day.

Lucy’s good, though. Especially compared to some of the other actors on the stage. She has a real talent, able to go from weepy to icy on a dime.

Darcy tells her as much after the curtain closes, when she brings a bundle of grocery-store chrysanthemums up to the stage in congratulations. Lucy’s smile practically glows. She’s totally in her element, and Darcy kind of feels like anybody’d be stupid to try to keep her away from the stage.

She goes with Lucy to the airport, when Lucy leaves a few days later. It’s kind of bittersweet, and Darcy can’t totally deny getting a little misty as they swap contact details outside of the lineup for international security.

“You better mail me a London Bridge keychain,” Darcy says, and Lucy laughs.

“Done.” She looks over towards the line winding slowly through the security checkpoint, then glances at the time on her phone, before turning back to Darcy. “Darcy, I need to thank you again.” She musters up a watery smile. “I know I was something of a handful. But you took me as I came, tried to make me feel welcome in an unfamiliar place, drew me out of myself, treated me as a friend… I won’t forget that. I won’t forget you.”

“Hey, I’m not going to forget you either,” Darcy says, with 100% unpasteurized honesty. “You definitely made my last semester interesting.” She pauses to give it 0.2 seconds of thought, and then decides, yeah. “It was fun.”

Lucy’s smile grows wider, more confident. “ ‘Interesting’ is certainly the word. But…yes. It was fun.”

She casts one more glance over at the security lineup, before she says, “You know, you’ll probably laugh. But for a short while there, I was afraid that you might be involved in the attack on New York.”

Darcy manages not to choke on her own spit, but it’s a near miss. “Say what?”

Lucy shrugs. “You’d always make these cryptic comments about aliens and how terribly the government treated you and whatnot, and then hastily change the subject if I pressed you. And you and your Dr. Foster were both so secretive about her work, but I knew it was in regards to wormholes to other galaxies – and that your Dr. Foster apparently regularly broke the law and had little to no regard for human life, if the stories about the van were anything to go by. What was I meant to think when I didn’t see you for a week and then the news was suddenly full of reports of a wormhole opened in New York to let an alien invasion force through?”

Darcy considers this for a moment.

“Also,” Lucy adds, “you put coffee in your cocoa puffs, which is not the act of a sane and rational human being.”

“Okay, that was one time,” Darcy says.

Lucy does that extremely irritating eyebrow thing that means she doesn’t believe that for a minute.

Darcy decides to let it slide. “You actually thought I helped organize an alien invasion? I can’t even organize my iTunes library.”

Lucy shrugs. “Every good mad scientist needs an Igor.”

Darcy shoves her, hard, in the arm, and Lucy bursts into laughter.

They push back and forth for a bit before Lucy looks at her phone again, and grimaces. “I’ve only got an hour. I should go.”

“Right,” Darcy says. “Well, if I’m ever in London…”

Lucy nods. “If you’re ever in London.”

Darcy’s not sure who starts it. All she knows is that all of a sudden she and Lucy are hugging, her face kind of awkwardly mashed against Lucy’s chest. Good grief, she’s tall.

The hug only lasts a second or two, and then Lucy is off, dragging her rolling carry-on behind her, glancing back only once to wave goodbye.

Darcy flashes her the peace sign, and watches her as she goes through a few turns of the slow-moving security line.

Then she feels like it’s getting kind of weird, and wanders off to find a Starbucks.

 …

 …

 some time later

 “Darcy, you don’t – I can’t afford for you to have your own intern! I can barely afford you!”

“It’s okay,” Darcy says, for like the fourteen millionth time. “Ian’s working for experience. Besides, he’s a friend. Friend of a friend.”

Jane sighs, shaking her head.

“So long as I don’t have to pay him,” she says. “And so long as he’s not – I don’t know, secretly a spy or a supervillain in disguise trying to steal or sabotage my research.”

Darcy snorts.

“Please,” she says. “If one of my friends was secretly a supervillain, I would definitely know.”

[writingsoftheunderworld]

AU - yes! Time Travel -no?

C. 2 here ; C. 1 here; AO3 here. Enjoy!

Chapter 3

Bonnie Bennett had begun her day with a slow calming chant of Don’t let him get to you, her thought firmly centred around one Damon Salvatore, a true thorn in her side since he’d first arrived in town not too long ago. She’d woken up slowly, light filtering through her blinds and shrouding the whole room in a husky shade of caramel, the lingering scent of citrus from the candles burnt the night before giving the room an all to homely feeling. She could hear her dad bustling downstairs, most likely getting some coffee for the road. It was fairly early still, but she had free-period the first half of the day and she was skipping the rest - life ending crises a good enough reason even if Mrs Jason still claimed that unless you were actually dead you had to show up for math class. She laid in bed a few more minutes, listening to her dad get dressed and slip out the door. She wondered for not the first time whether it would be better off if she tried to tell him all about this witch vampire mess again, but Grams had wanted him out of it, and he had wanted out of it after her mom left, so for the thousandth time she put it out of her mind. 

She showered, changed and climbed down to get the little mug of coffee her dad always left out for her, dropping more sugar into it than a candy store had on its selves. Elena had once joked that if she didn’t end up making it big she would always work as an oompa-loompa for Willy Wonka for how much sugar she dumped into her coffee each day. Bonnie was still not sure if Elena thought that was just a good joke or if she just hadn’t understood the Chocolate Factory as a child. Caroline just liked to pat her on the shoulder with a wistful look on her face, like she wished she had Bonnie’s devil-may-care attitude about it - which ironically seemed to have not been the case even now as a vampire who ate more than a Quarterback. 

The noise of Jeremy knocking on the door startled her out of her thoughts enough to almost spill the coffee on her shirt. Almost being the key word thankfully, so she dropped the mug into the sink and swung her bag over her head and headed for the garage. They were meant to meet Damon on the edge of the former Salvatore Estate, just off of the main road, by the woods, from where he’d then show her where the former Salem witches had been burned some centuries ago and where the Founders had burned Emily as well. Klaus was a threat hanging over their head constantly at this point. 

On their way Jeremy began telling her about Isobel’s impromptu visit earlier this morning and how poor Aunt Jenna had locked herself in her room following it. Bonnie felt sorry for the woman, she definitely didn’t deserve to be lied to like that, but Bonnie also felt that telling her the whole truth would’ve been equally unfair. The least Alaric could’ve done was say that his wife was missing rather than dead, but that was none of her business at the end of the day. They talked some more as they waited, they’d arrived a bit early after all, and Bonnie realised once again just how different Jeremy now was, and how nice it was to see him so invested in her. She wasn’t sure yet if she actually liked him like that, but she definitely could imagine how sweet and thoughtful he’d be as a boyfriend. And she needed someone frankly. Seeing Elena with her two Salvatore’s bending over backwards to rescue her from any and every inconvenience and now Caroline complaining about having been kissed by both Matt and Tyler made her frustrated. Less so for the fighting over her situation, that sounded exhausting, but rather for the constant work she had to put into herself to even be noticed. Maybe she should move for college, she had a feeling Virginia might be part of the problem here as well, though she did find it hilarious how both Matt and Tyler had initially dated her before either moved on to Elena or Caroline. Then it just made her sad. Was it something about her that pushed them away?

She remembered with sudden clarity asking that to her Grams and the hour long lecture following her words, of how she was a strong woman, how boys wouldn’t be able to handle someone like her until later, how she should still enjoy herself and not be tied down to a boyfriend from middle school onward because then you saw what could happen - exhibit a through z Elena’s many rants about Matt. She’d listened but not believed her Grams. She still wasn’t sure if she believed her Grams but she did know she wanted someone for her own now, hell, she needed someone with all the stress and violence her life had suddenly turned to. And Jeremy was safe, and cute, and had puppy dog eyes for her and vived for her attention. Was part of her thinking she was settling? Maybe. Did she care? Not really. And speaking of not caring, where the hell was Damon at? He was already late by 15 minutes. Don’t let him get to you. Her inner voice chimed again.

“Jere, how about we just head to the Boarding House? Clearly someone is looking to be set on fire.” Jeremy laughed and nodded. He clearly thought Bonnie was joking, but oh boy couldn’t he be more wrong. Bonnie was 1000% setting Damon on fire if he didn’t come up with a good enough excuse. 

_._._._._._._

Rose waited and watched. Jeremy Gilbert was off to the side, looking completely eager and completely in over his head as Bonnie and Damon were arguing about the best course of action following her short introduction into what she knew. And if they thought that was all she could tell them, then obviously they were still underestimating her which frankly was a bit condescending seeing as she was at least 2 years older than the Bonnie currently glaring at Damon. But she’d guessed that would be the reaction she was going to get when she made her choice to be as dramatic as possible. Mom used to say she got it from dad, but seeing the two younger versions of them interacting now she could safely say she got it from both. God knows those eye rolls and ridiculous insults were exaggerated as hell. How did these two people become her slow dancing in the kitchen on a random Thursday evening parents?

“Excuse me?” she tried, weakly, but still she gave it a shot. Jeremy looked over to her then at the still arguing duo then back at her with a look that seemed to say this is just an ordinary Monday for them. “EX-cuse ME!” she tried again, this time much louder but nothing. She sighed. Lost cause.

“If you would’ve let me pick you up like I said initially, you wouldn’t be here wanting to blow my head up now Judgy!”

“If you’d know how to use a phone like a normal person, I wouldn’t have waited needlessly for you for hours Damon!”

“Oh please, it was barely 5 minutes.” he scoffed and Jeremy piped up with a it was fifteen technically that Damon just elected to ignore it seemed. Sometime he did remind Rose of her dad. 

“It doesn’t matter! We’re dealing with Klaus! A 5 seconds text shouldn’t be something I need to tell you to do!” Aaannd sometimes she reminded Rose of her mom. Great, now she had anxiety again. And lord knows her mom won’t just raise her voice to yell at her for ending up here like this Bonnie was doing, no no, her mom would have a level voice that somehow would hurt far more. She needed a distraction. She also needed to figure out what was about to happen around this time. Like she remember her dad mentioning that Alaric had gotten possessed at some point and that he and mom had danced at a school 60s event - which she had to ask who actually came up with that stuff, because while Lizzie definitely loved a nice theme party, she still went with like a hava night, or a rock theme or an Austrian ball or something more generic but more fun, not a decades dance. Digressing though, Rose knew these facts, but she didn’t know anything immediate. She needed more information. More inside information.

“Guys, could you take a break and answer a few questions for me first?” she tried one more time. To no avail. So hard times ask for hard measures or something like that and stubborn younger versions of her parents call for her parents usual solve to stubborn daughter fighting with her friends voice so she did her best to channel her mom’s level tone and her dad’s intimidating presence and for someone not actually related to them she though she did a good job seeing as Bonnie and Damon turned in unison to glare at her before being reminded of where they were and what was going on here. She was actually pretty proud of herself for that feat.

“So as I was trying to say, can you give me run-down of what’s been happening here?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, weren’t you the one who knew everything?” Damon commented snidely and Rose almost high-fived Bonnie when both her and Rose said in unison.

“Oh, you know what sorry means?” Bonnie off to the side.

“Oh, so you agree I was right?” Rose with a grin.

Damon  seemed to take a moment to grit his teeth and bite back his words before shaking his head, giving a smirk and walking right past Rose to pour himself a glass of bourbon and spread out onto the couch in seeming nonchalance. Rose would almost commend his acting here, if he didn’t also irritate her with it. Who knew dad used to be such a child… well, more so than in her universe...time?

“Damon, she didn’t say she knows everything and don’t be a dick. She’s the only one willing to help us here.” Bonnie on the other hand, Rose was beginning to appreciate more and more. Maybe she was more Mom’s pet in the past than Dad’s pet as she was used to.

“Thank you, Bonnie. And no, I don’t know everything I just know a lot, but I still need to have the full picture and all the players to tell which is the best plan of attack here. As I said, you can’t kill Klaus, but you also don’t want him to become a hybrid right? That means we need to take every variable in consideration.” she argued and saw both Bonnie and Damon share a look before seemingly agreeing with her point of view. And boy was the Klaus of her universe going to laugh himself stupid when/if she made it back and told him his lessons in planning schemes - her dad’s turn of phrase not hers of Klaus’ - had been what had helped her most here. Oh irony, you cruel, opportunistic bitch. 

“Bonnie was meant to take on over 100 dead witches’ energy today, it’s why we were waiting for Damon, he knew where they’d died.” came the first important nugget of information from the most - or least? - expected person, Jeremy Gilbert himself. Rose smiled at him in gratitude, glad at least one person was listening. 

“Ok, that’s still going to be useful so maybe you should do that anyway and meanwhile I’ll see what Katherine's hiding?” Rose suggested and she didn’t even need to think before knowing that Damon was going to disagree with her - her dad still made that face whenever she and her friends planned something he thought was too dangerous or risky. Bonnie however seemed more receptive. 

“No way! Do you even know what that bitch is capable of?” as she said, predictable.

“Damon, I think she might be right. You know Katherine is planning something, no way is she helping from the goodness of her heart and she won’t say anything to any of us.” Ah, how she loved her mom’s pragmatism at times - except when she was 14 and wanted a pony, then she much rather preferred her dad’s personal brand of impulsiveness that not only got her the pony she’s wanted since 5 but also made a stable off a little way further from the house.

“And she is still keeping Katherine knocked out.” Jeremy was quickly becoming Rose’s favourite person, no joke. He was full of wonderful insight and 100% helping her barely formed ideas come to fruition. She smiled proudly and nodded to the still unconscious vampire on the floor. She elected to ignore outright looking at the woman for now, too weirded out by the 1 to 1 replica of Elena to feel comfortable with it. Doppelgangers were too much for her. It was like evil clones, her dad had explained when he tried to make her understand how the whole doppelganger thing even worked - something about the universe or some chick named Tessa or another, she hadn’t been paying too close attention by that point. Their lives were very convoluted in her opinion. 

Damon seemed to consider this possibility then, taking another large sip of bourbon and looking directly at Rose as he did so, before slamming the glass onto the end table by the foot of the couch and jumping to his feet. 

“Alright, fine, then Bon-Bon, you me and little Gilbert need to head off. Rosie-Posie, you get the Queen of Hell. Good luck to you, you’re going to need it. The bitch hasn’t told the truth a day in her life.” 

Rose nodded, smiled and waved them off as they all got out and left to do what they’d planned to do. She couldn’t wait for that honestly, it would at least get Bonnie’s magic up closer to the levels Rose knew from her mom. But the Rosie-Posie was going to kill her the longer she stayed here. It was going to make her slip and call Damon dad and it would all implode into itself, because if she was weak to one thing, it was being her dad’s Rosie-Posie and while she was fully aware this wasn’t actually her dad, her heart didn’t care. All was left now was for her mom to brush her hair out of her eyes and she might just snap. She’d missed her parents far before she got herself stranded in a different universe - despite it having been barely a few hours - since she hadn’t been home in at least 2 months. Sure she’d seen them nearly every night, more mom than dad since dad tried to pretend he still was immune to missing his girls, but it wasn’t the same as hearing her dad from a few feet away, well within hug reach or feel her mom’s warm hand through her hair. Fuck, and now she was crying. This day couldn’t be going worse. Her eyes strayed to Katherine and she groaned. Oh, it could definitely get worse. It could get so much worse.

[lydiaphantom]

Fanfiction: As You Wish

Fandom: Teen Wolf / Marvel: Infinite war

Warning: Bad words

Paring: Theo Raeken x Liam Dunbar

Additional Tags: Angst, MCU / Teen Wolf crossover, Good Theo Raeken

Be careful with what you wish, Liam. Your wish can come true.

(Sorry! Bad grammar!)

The war between hunters and supernatural wasn’t over. Liam doubted that something like that could be ended for real. After all, everything started because of the fear, people were afraid of something that they barely had an idea of, Anuk-Ite did a great job by triggering this fear. And even if now it’s gone, some people still were afraid, and that is only a matter of time before someone like Gerard would lead them.

Liam wasn’t ready for the next threat, not mentally. He was tired both emotionally and physically. The constant nightmares about everything that happened, especially about Brett and Lori, only made him more anxious and jumpy, the lack of sleep was playing a dangerous game with his mind and IED. Liam Dunbar literally was a walking time bomb and no one knew when would he explores.

Salvation came to him unexpectedly. More specifically Liam accidentally runs into Theo one day, when the young werewolf tried to deal with his anger. He was in the middle of the Beacon Hills preserve when he spotted a familiar dark blue truck, hidden between trees and shrubs. Liam didn’t hesitate before he knocked at the window.

That was how Theo Raeken of all people ended up living with Liam’s family. Of course, it wasn’t so easy, and at first Theo rejected the offer but then when Liam’s mother, Jenna, found out that Theo was living in his truck and her son didn’t do anything about it to make this situation better, she went to the chimera by herself and practically dragged him to the Dunbar-Geyer’s house.

At first, Liam was happy to have Theo next to him. They played video games and watched a lot of movies on Netflix together with Liam’s family. The young werewolf quickly gets used to it. Especially when he admitted that Theo actually was his anchor and was pretty much the only one who was able to calm Liam down in a matter of a second. Liam was okay with that. But when he noticed that he started falling for certain chimera, it was the beginning of Liam’s ‘freaking out’ moments. He even started regularly snapping at Theo. Liam couldn’t allow his feelings to take over his mind. He just can’t. What pack would think? They weren’t Theo’s biggest fans, so if they found out that Liam has feelings for the guy, who tried to kill their Alpha, they most likely to think that he lost his freaking mind and will send him to Eachen House for the thoughts like this or they will think that Theo manipulated him again and will send him if not to Hell, then away from the Beacon Hills. And Liam wasn’t happy with any of those alternatives. 

Deep down he knew that he probably overthink this whole situation but Liam was tired and his mind was fogged with fear and worthless worries he barely could think straight. Liam did see how much Theo had changed, he saw as the older boy took Gabe’s pain and then left without another world. Liam wasn’t stupid, he noticed how much Theo did change, how much the former killer was trying to be better.

And yet it didn’t stop Liam from hating and despising the warm feeling that he gets every time he saw the chimera. This, and his IED wasn’t helping, so with those feelings involved, he started to be more aggressive toward Theo. 

The pack now was at Liam’s house, together they all were having a great time while speaking, discussing and joking like they always do.

Even Theo was laughing, recently the pack members finally had started including him in pack meeting and Theo was truly grateful for this. After all this shit that he had done to everyone in the room, he never allowed himself even dream about the possibility that the pack will start to trust him again. That was beyond his expectations. Liam remembered Theo told him that once when he had one of his endless nightmares. They became even closer after that, Liam could swear he heard as Theo called him his friend when he was discussing something with Jenna, he didn’t mean to listen that just happened and Liam never mention this to the other boy. Then his feelings got involved so Liam started to be cold with him again and Theo had no idea what he had done to piss Liam off so much.

Raeken stand next to Mason and Corey while he was telling some story from his work. Liam was standing near to him too, trying to focus on the story the other boy was telling and not on how much the chimera was looking good with his hair swiped back a little and how hot it was when he unconsciously run his hand through them. Liam really should change the way he was thinking before this situation becomes awkward. Heck, why this should be so difficult, Liam didn’t ask for those feelings but look at him now. Trying so hard to hide them, he even closed his eyes trying to focus on something else and not on the voice telling him that he is in love with a certain chimera. Liam was so busy trying to calm himself down he didn’t even notice that his breath became heavier.

“iam, Liam,” the beta heard someone’s worried voice, but it sounded so distend he wasn’t sure whom it belongs to. “Hey, Little Wolf, come on, everything is fine. Just breath, breath with me.”

Theo. This voice belongs to him.

Liam couldn’t bear that anymore.

Theo was in the middle of the sentence when Liam snapped for the third time for this day.

“Will you ever shut up?!” he shouted anger took the best of him this time. Liam barely could hear anything besides his heart, which now was beating too fast even for a werewolf, but still, he noticed that the room went silent. He saw as Theo tensed and closed his mouth immediately, his eyes wide, he clearly was confused by this reaction. Liam definitely should apologize now. “You like, speak all the time like anyone could be interested in what you are saying,” yeah, that definitely didn’t sound like an apology.

“Liam, what happened?” Theo asked slowly looking around like someone could tell him what was wrong. Liam scoffed but followed his gaze and noticed that everyone was staring at him now.

‘Fuck, oh fuck, they know, now they know everything and will kick me out,’ Liam thought.

“Little Wolf?” Theo asked again.

“Shut up, just shut up this all is your fault, shut up!” Liam snapped and there was no coming back now.

If Liam wasn’t so much focused on his anger and for a second would take a quick look around him he would be able to say that Theo was clearly shocked by this outburst but even more aghast by the fist that followed right after this. Liam saw as the chimera fell on the floor clearly feeling a sharp pain as his nose was broken. Again. What he also did notice was the fact that three pair of hands were holding him tightly so he won’t attack Theo one more time. Briefly, Liam glanced up only to notice that it was Scott, Mason and surprisingly Malia who were holding him. That also was the moment when Liam remarked that he actually never stopped screaming.

“That your fault do you hear me, that all on you. I hate you, hate you so much. What do you even thinking about yourself, huh, Theo? Acting like everything is fine like we all can fucking forget what you did last year! Well, guess what?! We will never forget! I will never forget! I won’t forget what a monster you were, what a monster you are!” Liam screamed and all Theo could do was listen.

“Liam-“

“No! you don’t get to say anything. I don’t wanna hear another beautiful lie leaving your mouth. I’m done with you!”

“Please-“

“I regret the day I pulled you from Hell! After all, that is where you belong! I wish you could just disappear from my life!” Liam also regrets the words he said the moment they left his mouth. Immediately the anger died out and was replaced with all-consuming guilt. He was stupid enough to take a look on Theo and the scene broke his heart as he saw the single crystal clear tear that was running down chimera’s face. Liam took a deep breath and nearly chocked because of the sticky scent. Sadness. Regret. Pain. He barely could detect the scent. Not that it really mattered. No one was holding him now but all eyes were on him, yet all he can look at was Theo’s hazel green eyes which were full of pain. The pain Liam caused and now had no idea how he could fix all this.

Liam actually opened his mouth to say something, anything, but he couldn’t find the strength to make a noise. And then something caught his attention. Theo’s right hand started turning into dust. The chimera rose his slowly disappearing hand. There was no fear in his eyes nor denying. Just acceptance.

That broke something in Liam.

‘I wish you could just disappear from my life!’ Liam heard his own voice in his head on repeat and that was driving him crazy.

“Theo-” Liam started but this time the chimera interrupted him.

“As you wish, Liam,” he only said and with that completely turned into dust.

Theo Raeken was gone. One moment he was there and next he wasn’t. And the last thing Liam said to him was that he hates him. Theo just died, as Liam assured himself, with the thought that he doesn’t belong here. That the only person he considered as a friend actually can’t stand his guts. This was too much.

For some seconds the room was completely silent.

And then Liam fell on his knees and screamed.

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

Hey, that was something new for me to write. Please let me know what you think!

Your opinion is important!

[heereandthere]

~A Massive Thank You to @bemorechillmusical~

As I’m sure all of you know, today marks a bittersweet ending to a glorious journey: “Be More Chill” has officially finished its 5-month Broadway run. I’m really sad to see it ride off into the sunset so soon, but I’m also really proud of everyone who has made this show what it is today and helped so many people get out of very bad places. This show means so much to so many people, and though it’s disappointing to see it being taken away, it’s remarkable that everyone made it this far.

Thank you, “Be More Chill”, for introducing me to theatre and helping me find a place where I really belong, for guiding me to an outlet for the stresses of the world. This show helped me discover that the root of my issues was having no way to project by introducing me to the world of drama because “it seemed fun”, which led to some of my fondest memories. I now volunteer frequently at my local theatre, and, since I was also helped in figuring out what path I want to choose in life, I have wild dreams of making my Broadway debut.

Thank you, “Be More Chill”, for being there for me when I felt the most lost. When I first found this show is when a lot of emotional issues began to worsen for me, and I remember very fondly how BMC became, much like theatre, an outlet for all of those problems. I was having difficulties with my friends that I didn’t understand or could articulate properly, which made Michael’s story, in particular catch my eye; “Michael in the Bathroom” always helped me with a healthy cry, and flashing back to songs like “Two-Player Game” always put a smile on my face when I needed it.

Thank you, “Be More Chill”, for changing my life with only one performance and making a birthday I was secretly dreading one of the best ones possible. This was the very first Broadway show I had ever seen and, thanks to my amazing family, I was able to see it on the day I encountered a very big birthday that would change the course of my life. I was terrified of this day and, honestly, there was a part of me that just wanted to hole up in my house for the weekend and let it come and go. But, I wound up doing the exact opposite, and for those two hours I spent watching Jeremy’s story play out, I was convinced that things were going to be perfectly fine. The fears I had about fighting for my spot on Broadway and the troubles that would come with it dissipated, and I felt completely comfortable in my skin for the first time in I didn’t know how long. Being at the Lyceum made everything feel perfectly alright, and, in the words of the wise Evan Hansen, it gave me a reason to believe I’ll be okay.

Thank you, Will Roland and Jeremy Heere, for teaching me that, no matter how much I may dislike myself or how bad my anxieties get, there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel and the best person for me to be is myself. There will always be voices in my head telling me ridiculous things, but there’s only one me, and I need to embrace this me and enjoy life while I still can.

Thank you, George Salazar and Michael Mell, for making me smile when I needed it most while also showing me that it doesn’t matter whether or not the world is watching. You taught me that self-love does not equal narcissism and is pivotal to living your best life, and that the condescending looks from your peers don’t matter as long as you’re being your best self.

Thank you, Stephanie Hsu and Christine Canigula, for teaching me that a little weird in this world is a good thing. It’s okay to be quirky, especially when things seem the worst, and oftentimes being odd is the best way to be. Times are confusing and scary and I may feel pensive about letting my inhibitions go, but sometimes letting loose and making some of the most obscure noises known by humankind is what can do you best.

Thank you, Katlyn Carlson and Chloe Valentine, for teaching me that confidence is possible, even when it feels like you have to fake it. Other people being self-confident and happy is not a comment on me and my progress, and even if it may take me a bit longer to reach that station in life, if I can break away from that negative mindset, I’ll be able to achieve a pure confidence in myself one day.

Thank you, Lauren Marcus and Brooke Lohst, for teaching me that I’m strong and deserve better than to be walked all over. I don’t have to take toxic behavior on the chin and wear it, because my mental health and feelings are just as crucial to care for as anyone else’s. I am no one else’s toy, and no one has any right to use me and expect me to stay when they hurt me.

Thank you, Tiffany Mann and Jenna Rolan, for teaching me that my voice matters, too. I shouldn’t let people take advantage of me for one exclusive thing, no matter what it is, and that friendship is a two-way street of effort. I’m important despite what the behavior of other people may lead me to believe, and I’m allowed to leave relationships if they’re toxic to me. I’m allowed to speak out against what I don’t believe in.

Thank you, Gerard Canonico and Rich Goranski, for teaching me that I do have a say in who I want to be. No matter what mold society tries to place me in, it is possible for me to break that and fight to be my own person, with all of my quirks and peculiarities in the mix. If people don’t like who I really am, it may hurt, but that’s okay because as long as I’m living my best life, it doesn’t matter.

Thank you, Britton Smith and Jake Dillinger, for teaching me that vulnerability isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I don’t have to suppress my thoughts and feelings for other people, and it’s okay to open up about what’s bothering me. I’m never alone, no matter how barren my life feels, and it’s worth it in the long run to confide in someone, anyone. It’s okay.

Thank you, Jason Tam and the squip, for teaching me that my inner voices are intimidating and controlling, but don’t define who I am, as long as I put up a fight. I don’t always have to listen to what my brain tells me because, even if it is an extension of me, there are times when it’s wrong and irrational, and so if I assert myself and keep my true self in mind, it’s possible to deny my mind the luxury of hurting me.

Thank you, Jason Sweettooth Williams and Mr. Heere (and, of course, Mr. Reyes and the Scary Stockboy), for teaching me that sometimes you have to defy what your emotions tell you and stand up for your loved ones. It may feel like my problems control me, but it’s always okay and even encouraged to stand up and fight back, especially in the name of those you care about. Recovery is possible.

Thank you, Cameron Bond, Troy Iwata, Morgan Siobhan Green, Anthony Chatmon III, Joel Waggoner, and Talia Suskauer for working so incredibly hard on this show and in memorizing all of your roles, prepared to go on at a moment’s notice. You’ve fought for this just as hard as anyone else, and you deserve all of the respect and credit in the world for the times you’ve stepped up and absolutely killed it on both the Signature and Lyceum stages.

Thank you, Ned Vizzini, for creating a book that would come to inspire so many in such a great way, and for giving us the courage to stand up and be ourselves through the whole ordeal that is adolescence. This musical and this community wouldn’t exist without you and your work, and you laid the groundwork for what all of this would become. None of us would be here if it weren’t for your creation.

Thank you, Joe Iconis, Joe Tracz, Stephen Brackett, Chase Brock, Beowulf Boritt, Bobby Frederick Tilly, Tyler Micoleau, Ryan Rumery, Alex Bosco Koch, Dave Bova, Charlie Rosen, Emily Marshall, Michael Aarons, J. David Brimmer, Amanda Michaels, and every other intern, backstage worker, and stage managers for creating a show that has made me laugh, cry, and felt like I’m where I need to be, for creating a show that has helped me find a community of amazing people, both locally and online, and helped me feel like I was a little less alone. I know there are thousands of people just like me who say these same things, but I have no idea where I would be if it weren’t for this show, and I feel like I’m a better person for having found it.

Congratulations on an amazing comeback and a fantastic Broadway run, and I wish every single person who ever worked on this show the very best. It’s been an honor watching you get where you are today. I look forward to seeing you guys making theatre headlines once more very soon.

~Sincerely, Me

[spaceorphan18]

Did you see Naya and Heather in Kevin's and Jenna's podcast? Naya said that one of her more difficult scenes was Santana's rant to Kurt in season 6, that it was very mean, it blurred the lines and made Chris upset.

I didn’t listen to it, but I did hear about it!  And yeah, I was thinking about this last night.  

Just some loose thoughts - 

0. This speech isn’t very well written to begin with.  It’s redundant, completely not relevant to what Santana would actually be mad about, and I’m actually wondering if they even cut some of it out of it - because it’s weirdly edited.  I am, admittedly, amused by the Quinn Fabray line, draping over pianos, and the three dance moves, (none of which are the meanest parts of the rant, and the most Kurt-ish of the lines) but the rest of the rant itself is garbage.  

0.B - they kept needling Kurt (and therefore Chris) over his love of old people in season 6.  I’m not sure why this was constantly so funny to the writers.  It isn’t really funny at the first joke.  

1. I’ve never found any of Santana’s (or Sue’s for that matter) elongated rants very funny.  This one isn’t funny, either.  But I don’t think this is the worst one - she’s had meaner and crueler ones -- particularly aimed at Rachel, Finn, and even Rory.  (The one at Finn in Mash Off is my least favorite, but that’s a whole different discussion.) 

2. That said - I do not understand why this particular one went viral. I don’t think there was anything particularly special that made this rant any better or worse than any other rant on the show - save that it was lumped together.   People seem to latch on to overly mean things and I think, in general and I think that’s kind of sad.  

2.B Possibly alienating opinion but - my one issue with the whole push back from the angry Kurt fans was that it felt incredibly hypocritical of them to be this upset over the whole thing when they themselves had been flinging worse things at other people (namely Blaine/Darren) and that no one seemed to be that upset when people like Rory or Brody or even Will got pelted when those lines were blurred as well.  

2.C Mean-spirited things are mean, and I wish all of it had been called out on at length, and not just when flung at favorite characters. 

3. I don’t really believe it’s out of character for Santana to rant.  I do think it’s harsh to point it at Kurt, especially when Santana and Kurt have been rather cordial and tolerant of each other.  It also seems more like a vehicle for the writers to vent their own issues and criticisms (or air criticisms they’ve found online) and hiding it behind a character quirk.   

3.B Which is a thing that Glee did a lot, though they often used Sue more often to do so.  It’s a form of lampshading (a way for writers to acknowledge something without actually doing anything about it - usually as a way to get in a sexist or racist joke, etc), and I find it either lazy or way to be intentionally mean spirited. 

4. Glee could be a mean show.  Like digging into people for no other reason than the could.  Which is why I’ve never been overly fond of the writers.  I got the sense that they a) enjoyed mean spirited humor and b) would often write out mean things when they feel like they’ve been hurt by criticism of the show. 

4.B Glee was sometimes was the internet trolls come to life.  Santana’s speech was, really, just that.  

5. Glee had this weird duality where it was both progressive and regressive at the same time.  I think the duel nature stems from them wanting to push things forward that meant something to the writers -- GLEE CLUB FAMILY, GAY RIGHTS, while being stuck with the mentality of a show stuck in the 80s. 

6. I do agree with Naya’s assessment that the speech blurred the lines of reality and fantasy.  Glee has always done this.  And in season 6, they were constantly doing this - though, again, usually overtly with Sue.  

7. I can only imagine it being an awful thing for Naya to have to do.  Because it’s one thing if you can throw barbs with another actors who can take it, handle it, be comfortable trading insults in such a manner.  It’s another thing to have to throw unveiled criticisms at a good friend (and yes I think Naya and Chris are good friends) when you know that person is possibly sensitive to such criticisms and/or having a difficult time with the presented material.  I completely understand Naya would comment that this would be uncomfortably, awkward, and difficult to do.  

8. I am sad that Chris was upset by the whole thing.  I can only imagine that after having a life time of people hurling shit like this at him his whole life, to be really successful and still have to be forced to face personal insults like this is insensitive at best and cruel at worst. 

9. This is why I just can’t jump on the bandwagon of Ryan and Co being geniuses at their craft.  They claim to be anti-bullying, for example, go out of their way to do story lines around it, and then they play the mean girls themselves when they want to needle someone or someones whom they feel needs a verbal take town. Just not my cup of tea.  

10. All that said, while I’m sorry Naya was put in that position, and while I think it’s unfortunate that Chris had to go through that (again), I’m not as enraged as this post may make it seem.  It sounds like Ryan and Co’s mean spirited nature got way out of hand on this one, which makes me roll my eyes and shake my head.  But at the end of the day, while I’m sure this is another notch on the - Chris won’t be working with RM again - board; I’m sure Chris is over it, is in a pretty happy place with his millions of self-made dollars, lovely boyfriend, and happy puppies.  So there’s no real need to get angry or upset over it on Chris’s behalf.  

That’s my two cents. 

[bellaelisabeth95]

Finding Us Chapter 2

Paige was relieved that she and Emily had talked about the kiss she had shared with Nate. It still made Paige’s skin crawl to think about it, but she thought it really said something that Emily had owned up to it. As far as she knew, Paige hadn’t seen it, and there was no reason to confess. But she had, and maybe it was just what Paige wanted to believe, but she thought the reason she had suggested before made sense. She knew Emily had always loved Maya, and she always would. That was okay. It hadn’t even been that long, and sometimes Paige wondered if she had gotten into a relationship too fast. But then there were the times that Emily told her she had never thought she would smile again. So maybe this was exactly what she needed.   For real, though, Nate needed to drop off the face of the earth. He was annoying, constantly popping up everywhere (maybe she had been right to be jealous at Jenna’s party), and she wasn’t sure why he was still hanging around. She wouldn’t say this to Emily, but she thought he cared a little much to be Maya’s cousin. Sure, she loved her cousins, but if one of them was murdered she wouldn’t go latch on to an ex. She thought maybe he could be lying about who he was, but why?   He didn’t matter, though. Emily wanted to be with her. She didn’t have to worry about him. Considering how anxious she had been meeting up with Emily this morning, she felt very relaxed now.   She said good bye to Emily and went to chain up her bike in front of the school. When she looked up, she was startled to see Spencer staring at her. Not in a friendly manner, either. There was some blonde woman with her whom Paige didn’t think she recognized. She looked too old to be a student.   Why was Spencer staring at her? So far she hadn’t had much interaction with Emily’s friends, but she and Spencer didn’t have the best history. She knew Spencer hated her from back when they used to play field hockey together. And true, maybe she did have…… aggressive tendencies, although she thought those had gotten much better. Spencer didn’t know enough about her to be staring her down like that.   She stood up, debating whether or not she should go say something to her. Spencer turned away, making the decision for her. She didn’t want to be late for homeroom, and she certainly didn’t want to be getting into fights with Emily’s friends. So, deciding to just ignore it, she headed inside.

*****

  “I have a Nate problem,” Emily told Spencer when she found her standing outside of the locker room, looking uptight as usual. “I think I may have led him on.”   “Forget about Nate. Has Paige mentioned Ali to you?”   “What? No.”   “I was talking to Cece and-.”   “Of course,” Emily replied with a sneer. “Cece.”   “Em, they didn’t know each other in passing. They were in a war,” Spencer replied, and Emily gritted her teeth. She should have known Spencer wasn’t going to be supportive of this. She was too opinionated. She would literally throw away her relationships before admitting she was wrong.   “This figures. Suddenly Cece swoops in, and-.”   “This has nothing to do with Cece. Ali was in a feud with someone we both know has a bit of a dark side.”   “What is that supposed to mean?” Emily asked, trying to keep her anger in check.   “Let’s not forget this girl once tried to drown you,” Spencer replied. “I don’t think that was a love dunk.”   “There were other issues going on in her life back then!”   “Yeah, like being sneaky!” Spencer exclaimed. “I’m not calling her a snake, but-.”   “I’m late for practice,” Emily snapped, and she brushed past her without another word. She was practically fuming, throwing her bag angrily onto the bench. She was so caught up in what Spencer had said that she didn’t even realize Paige was already there.   “Em? What’s wrong?”   “Oh. Paige,” she replied, her anger fading. “I’m sorry.”   “What happened?” she asked, her brown eyes filled with worry. Emily suddenly wanted to cry. She knew more about Paige’s struggles than anyone, and she hated the people judging her without knowing her. That included her own friends.   “Nothing. Just a fight with Spencer,” she replied. A strange look crossed Paige’s face.   “I don’t think she likes me.”   “Why would you say that?” Emily asked. Was it possible she had overheard?   “We don’t have a good history, Em. Before I caught her staring at me like I was carrying smallpox or something.” Paige looked at her. “What was the fight about? You can tell me.”   Emily looked away. Paige sighed.   “I thought as much. Em, I don’t-.”   “No. Fuck her,” Emily replied bitterly. “She’s been so unsupportive lately. You’d think she’d want me to be happy.”   “Yes, you would,” Paige agreed. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to come between you and your friends.”   “You’re not,” Emily replied, hugging her. She was becoming addicted to the feeling of Paige in her arms. “I’m not going to that dumb trunk show. Come to my house after school and we’ll get takeout.”   Paige smiled, nodding. After one more kiss they headed to the pool. Emily definitely needed to work off some of her anger.   After practice, they were ambushed by Hanna as they were leaving the school.   “Hey! You’re coming tonight, right?” she asked.   “No,” Emily replied as Paige looked away awkwardly. Hanna looked shocked.   “Em! Why?”   “Because Spencer’s a bitch,” she replied. “Besides, Paige and I have plans.”   “But-.”   “I’ll call you tomorrow, Hanna,” Emily replied. Hanna shrugged.   “Well, okay. But you and Spencer need to make up.”   Emily wasn’t in the mood for that. She was looking forward to her night with Paige, and she was surprised by the suggestion she made when she got back from getting their food.   “You need to go to the trunk show tonight,” she told Emily. “And I need to go with you.”   “What? Why?”   “Because. If we stay holed up here, I’m the problem they think I am. Which is someone who wants to take you away from them.”   “I don’t care what they think.”   “I do,” Paige replied. “And I think you do, too.”   Emily sighed. She was right. She could play angry all she wanted, but her friends were important to her. Plus, she was a little curious about Paige’s history with Ali. Before, when she had asked, Paige had gotten very defensive. Emily didn’t think that was suspicious. Ali had been terrible to almost everyone, and the story was probably embarrassing. That surely didn’t qualify her as a suspect.   “Okay,” she agreed. “You’re a good sport, Paige.”   “I want your friends to like me. We all know I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I want a chance to show them I’m better.”

  “I think you’re great.”

  “I know, and that’s sweet. But you love your friends and I couldn’t bear the thought of you losing them on my account. Come on. Let’s go.”

  Emily reluctantly agreed. Although she thought it was sweet how much Paige cared. Maybe this would win over her friends. Paige could be charming when she wanted to be.

  When they arrived, Spencer and Hanna were already there. Paige offered Spencer a friendly hello, as Emily muttered hers. Spencer looked shocked that she had brought Paige.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Emily told her smugly. “I brought a guest.”

  Spencer didn’t answer. Cece recovered first.

  “The more the merrier. Emily, I have the perfect dress for you to try on.”

  She was worried about leaving Paige alone with them while she put the dress on. She hoped they would be able to be civil. Or maybe Spencer would apologize.

  She was surprised when Paige showed up with something else for her to wear.

  “Trying to sneak a peek?” She teased. Paige blushed.

  “Hanna said for you to try this on,” she replied. Emily frowned.

  “They wanted me to wear this,” she replied as she and Paige went back out front.

  “Em…… you look stunning.”

  “Thank you, Paige,” she replied, smiling at the way Paige’s tongue was hanging out of her mouth. The smile faded when she saw Spencer and Hanna turn around, looking guilty. She realized immediately what they were doing. Looking through Paige’s bag.

  Furious, she strode over to them, snatching it away.

  “Paige, we’re leaving.”

  “Emily-.”

  “No, don’t be so forgiving,” she replied. Tears of anger threatened to start spilling down her cheeks. “I’m changing and then we’re leaving.”

  Paige followed her back to the dressing room, rightfully not wanting to be alone with them. Emily was so mad she couldn’t even think straight. More than mad, though. She was hurt. She couldn’t believe her friends were treating her new girlfriend like this, especially after what had happened with Maya. Hadn’t they insisted they just wanted her to be happy? Well, it didn’t seem like it. Spencer was letting whatever petty reason she had for not liking Paige get in the way of supporting her friend.

  “Are you okay?” Paige asked meekly. Her eyes were sad.

  “I’m so sorry,” Emily replies, hugging her tightly.

  “I’m okay,” Paige replied bravely. Emily smiled, touching her cheek, and in that moment she realized something important. She was in love with Paige. A few months ago she never would have thought loving someone or being happy would be possible. But it was, and she was doing it.

  Emily wondered when would be the right time to tell her. But for now, she just wanted to get home.

  They went to Emily’s house since no one was home for the night. She wondered if Paige would be open to staying. Or……. if she would be ready for something Emily had in mind.

  It was a nice early fall night, so they made tea and sat together on the porch. Emily looked at Paige, who looked deep in thought.

  “I’m sorry,” she offered again.

  “Don’t be. I made you go.”

  “This whole thing with Cece started-.”

  “It started with Alison,” Paige replied. Emily looked at her in surprise. Was she going to open up?   She hadn’t been expecting anything Paige told her, tears sparkling in her eyes the whole time. Emily didn’t know why she was surprised. Alison had been a horrible person. She had tormented everyone else, so why not Paige? Emily just couldn’t bear to hear the pain in her voice. See the tears pouring down her cheeks. Paige telling her that she was completely alone would haunt her forever, she decided as she wrapped her arms around her crying girlfriend. Tears were sliding down her own cheeks. She was heartbroken, and in the moment, she didn’t just hate Ali. She was pretty sure she hated Spencer for dredging this up again.   Emily didn’t know how long they sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms. It was cold, and the wind had started picking up, but neither of them made any move to go inside. Emily wanted to hold Paige in her arms forever. To make sure she never felt any kind of hurt again. How did she make that a reality?   “Thank you for telling me,” she finally said. Paige sniffed, wiping her eyes.   “I didn’t mean to break down like that.”   “Paige. I’m glad you told me. I am so, so sorry for everything Spencer did. Hanna too, but I’m sure it was all Spencer’s idea.”   “Well……. I don’t blame Spencer for not liking me.”   “No, don’t excuse her. She’s holding onto some old grudge.”   “That story isn’t as exciting,” Paige replied. Emily was glad to see her smile. “She was mad I…… roughed Alison up a little once in soccer practice. I guess I do have some anger problems. I like to think they’ve gotten better since……”   “Since you came out?” Emily asked. She smiled.   “Exactly.”   “That makes sense. I remember what it was like. Keeping that secret. It made me angry, too.”   “I’m just saying…… as much as I want your friends to like me, and I’m hurt by what happened, they’re coming from a place of love. They don’t trust me, and I understand. They only want to be sure you don’t get hurt.”   Emily knew she was right. As annoyed as she was, and while Spencer did have a personal issue with Paige, Emily knew she was just concerned about her safety.   “You’re amazing, Paige. You’re amazing and I love you.”   Paige’s eyes widened in surprise. Emily was expecting her to look away, and she didn’t disappoint.   “You do?”   “I do. So much.”   “I love you, too,” she whispered, looking up. They kissed passionately, holding one another again.   Emily was scared, she realized as they kissed. She was scared that she had allowed herself to fall in love again. She knew that she couldn’t let herself lose Paige.   “Do you want more tea?” Emily asked when they pulled apart. Paige smiled, and Emily was glad to see the sadness on her face was gone.   “No, I’m good. I’m going to wash my face,” she replied, and Emily nodded. Paige disappeared inside, and that was when Emily noticed Jenna standing there. She jumped, starled.   “Jenna?”   “I need to talk to you about your friend,” she started, and Emily frowned. Jenna stared at the two mugs on the porch. “Oh. I didn’t realize you weren’t alone.”   Emily stood up, alarmed by her behavior. Was she trying to warn her about Paige, too? Why was everyone being so dumb about this whole thing? She had sort of known Paige all through high school, and their little fued back during junior year was the only time Emily had seen her bad side. What did they all know that she didn’t?   “Just be careful who you spend time with,” Jenna told her, and Emily stared as her hurried off to a car, where a taxi driver was loading her things into the trunk. It looked like she was leaving town. She didn’t have time to pry, though. Paige had come back onto the porch and was looking at her. The last thing Emily wanted was for Paige to think someone else was telling Emily not to trust her.   Emily went back to the porch, giving one more glance at Jenna’s car. Then the two of them went inside.   “What was that about?” Paige asked.   “Jenna’s leaving town for a while. She was saying goodbye,” she replied. Paige nodded.   “Oh.”   “Paige?”   “Yes?”   Emily took a deep breath. But she knew she was ready for what she was about to ask.   “Will you stay tonight?” she asked. Paige’s eyes widened. Emily waited with baited breath for her answer. Finally, she nodded.   “Yes.”

[becumsh]

YOUR FAVORITE NIECE FOR THE HEADCANON THINGY :D

*laughs diabolically* my time has finally come. Thank you so much, sO MUCH.

Headcanon A: what I think realistically 

She has a slightly dysfunctional relationship with Richelieu which with other relationship might be considered as toxic, but it’s Richelieu family we are talking about. Mind games and manipulating is like their way of ‘hello, how was your day, by the way, if you leave for Carmelites I’m most likely going to die‘ showing affection and feeling the feels. The woman never re-married even though Richelieu’s been needling her for decades, I mean, it takes ovaries of steel and some character to make Richelieu give up. ‘Uncle, I will not leave for Carmelites if you leave me the fuck alone with all that ‘marry Gaston’ shit, ta’.

JUST TO PUT IT OUT THERE, I headcanon her as aromantic asexual, just so we get it out of the way. And I’m serious about it.

She’s probably the cleverest woman in the Court. She’s probably the most cleverest human, period, in the Court.

She’s the only person Richelieu ever truly listens to. She knows it and only uses it to her advantage when absolutely necessary. And Richelieu hates to upset her, which she ALSO knows, but rarely uses against him.

The head bitch in charge. The Rihanna and Beyoncé of 17th century France. Except, like, religious, and pious, and all.

Anne of Austria probably has a low-key crush on her, even though she’s *shudder* of Richelieu’s blood *toilet emoji*

It’s virtually impossible to hate her. Marie de Medici, the nemesis, the arch enemy of Richelieu couldn’t hate her until her dying days, can you believe???

she’s smol mum friend

The most Wholesome™️ person in France.

Headcanon B: what I think is fucking hilarious 

Even though Marie-Madelaine is NICE, in the truest sense of the word, she’s the snarkiest. She’s very polite, but she’ll troll you and snark you, and you won’t even know what hit you.

Richelieu and Marie-Madelaine judge inane nobility at Court together. I just can picture them, like that, sitting in the chairs next to one another and exchange snide remarks about those inane noble people. ‘Oh, her dress…’ ‘I know, right… Have you seen what that Duke has done?’ ‘A true embarrassment…’ ‘I’ve never seen anyone embarrass himself more than he did that morning…’ ‘We, my dear, are surrounded by idiots.’ ‘and honestly, mood.’ I can’t, just Richelieu and his niece JUDGING everyone, a) it’s probably very likely canon b) it’s very funny.

OH EM GEE, she’s literally a female version of Kevin Cozner from B99!! She is!!!

Headcanon C: what is heart-crushing and awful but fun to inflict on friends

I literally cannot fathom anything more angsty than actual history.

She believed until the very last moment that Richelieu is going to pull through. She was all like ‘The Carmelite nun had a vision that you are going to be fine!’

And then he felt like his end is near, so he held her hand and asked her to leave, because ‘My dear niece, I feel very bad, I think I’m going to die right about now, I can’t watch you being in pain, so please leave because I don’t want you to watch me die’ - END ME, I JUST, FUCK.

DON’T GET ME STARTED ON RICHELIEU’S TOMBSTONE, THIS IS LITERALLY ENOUGH TO GET MY TEARS FLOWING.

Also, it’s very sad to say, but Duchesse d’Aiguillon was never happy, and it really saddens me. She never got to marry the man she once loved, she was surrounded by Richelieu’s enemies, after his death she kept battling them or her relatives because of Richelieu’s will, and she never got to leave for the Carmelites even though that’s what she wanted the most. The woman just couldn’t get a break.

You know, I don’t actually need to write headcanons, I can just open up her biography and copy-paste it here because honestly? Headcanons pale in comparison to all that fucking angst that really happened.

………..she doesn’t like cats all that much?

Headcanon D: what would never work with canon but the canon is shit so I believe it anyway

*cracks her fingers* okay, you thought this answer is long, prepare for some real stuff, for some real long post because honestly, I can write an entire paper on this.

Concept: BBC Musketeers are not pussies and they are closer to history than to books (they, in real life, are neither). And while I’m at it, Dumas rectified Richelieu in the sequel and wrote an apology book that he never finished (i’m still pissed), and people STILL THINK that Richelieu is evil, when even Dumas himself realised that he was an idiot.

Marie-Madelaine actually makes an appearance, and it’s not some lame guest-starring for one episode, hella no, she’s a recurring character with some JUICY moments. I’m literally crying right now over the POTENTIAL

She’s played either by Jenna Coleman, Felicity Jones or idk, Romola Garai may be.

So, like in history, she’s a lady-in-waiting to Queen Anne, but in fact she’s obviously Richelieu’s spy (duh). But despite the fact that she’s Richelieu’s niece, Queen Anne is favourable of her and trusts her because Duchesse d’Aiguillon is nice. And beware of the nice ones because Duchesse d’Aiguillon is the only clever one in the Court. Basically everyone underestimates her because they all think of her as of a nice pious religious woman totally incapable of scheming which gives her an ample opportunity to observe and spy on everyone. She’s very unassuming and everyone thinks Richelieu stuck the Duchess in her position so she can marry someone rich, but we all know the truth.

Cue evening chats with Richelieu, discussing their day and the idiocy of the nobility. Also I want some quality family moments between them, both in Palais Cardinal and in public.

She’s probably quite friendly with Milady and has serious talks about how Richelieu treats his favourite assassin, but it’s mostly in vain, but she’s getting there, baby steps.

Treville and Richelieu, mid-rant shouting session, cut to the niece in the background, low-key rolling her eyes.

Ninon de Larroque’s secret women club SUCKS compared to Duchesse d’Aiguillon’s book club, Richelieu probably wanted to burn her because her club is an abomination lbr, also we’d get Pierre Corneille.

Let’s be real, the whole Queen’s assassination idiocy would have never happened if the Duchesse was in the show. She’d probably nick some letters from Anne to her brother, thus bringing her downfall or whatever, you know, doing it the cool way, not the BBC lame way.

The evening of the day when s1e10 happened? ‘The Queen is with the musketeers’ child.’ ‘Yeah, I know.’

S2, ooooooh, Richelieu faking his death/Spanish prison style/whatever of your choice, Rochefort targeting her in order to lure him out? Or, even better, musketeers doing something to her because they find out she knows about the parentage of the Dauphin? I can write an entire another post on that. Treville and the Duchesse bonding at the Court because they are the only two sane people there???

S3 never happened. Or it’d be La Rochelle and Buckingham business, SOMETHING INTERESTING.

Literally everything I wrote is useless and boils down to LET THE DUCHESSE ON THE MUSKETEERS BBC, STOP EMBARRASSING YOURSELF.

[katymacsupernatural]

Marshmallow World

Dean Winchester x Reader

900 Words

Story Summary: Coming home after running errands, a surprise awaits you in the kitchen.

This is written for @gone-to-fight-the-fairies and her Winter Wonderland Challenge. My song was Marshmallow World, and my prompt was baking. 

With your arms full of groceries, Christmas presents and decorations, you struggled to open the heavy steel door leading in to the bunker. “Dean!” You called out, hoping he would hear and come to your rescue

Almost losing the bag full of ornaments, you tried once again. “Dean, I need your help!!” Seconds ticked by, and still he didn’t come. Sighing, you continued the rest of the way down the stairs, dropping most of the bags onto the map table, relieved to lighten your burden. Down on the main level, you could hear muffled music playing, the lights in the kitchen on.

A little frustrated that Dean hadn’t come to help you, you made your way to the kitchen, stopping in the hallway when you could finally hear the music blaring.

“It’s a marshmallow world in the winter,

When the snow comes to cover  the ground.

It’s time for play, it’s a whipped cream day

I wait for it the whole year round.”

Surprised to not only hear Christmas songs coming from the kitchen, but also Dean Martin, you peered around the corner, trying to figure out exactly what was going on. Dean’s back was to you, shuffling around at the counter. Flour was everywhere, covering every available surface. Including his spiky hair. Cookies were cooling on the table, one batch burnt but the rest looking even better than the ones you made. A pie was cooling on the top of the oven, and you were flabbergasted. You knew Dean cooked, and cooked well. Often times you would find him in the kitchen, making his famous hamburgers or soup for dinner. But you had never known him to bake, and bake well. Especially with Christmas music playing. Dean had slowly come around to celebrating Christmas, but always grumbled about the music.

Deciding to make your presence known, you came around the corner. “What’s going on in here?”

The egg that Dean had been planning on cracking slipped from his fingers as he flipped around. Landing on the ground it shattered, but he didn’t even glance down. “Y/N, I can…” He stuttered, his eyes wide.

It was actually how cute he looked, caught red handed baking for Christmas. “Dean, if I had known you could bake, I would have locked you in the kitchen a long time ago.”

“I’ve never tried it before.” He admitted, relaxing slightly since you weren’t actually making fun of him. “I know how much Christmas means to you, and I thought I could get some of this done for you.”

Striding forward, you took his flour covered cheeks in your hand, kissing his plump lips soundly. “Dean, you are so freaking sweet.”

Pulling away, you noticed he was blushing. “Don’t you dare say that around anyone!” He exclaimed, but you could see he was still kind of proud at your words. Dean might be known as a tough, badass hunter to everyone else, but to you he was nothing more than a gruff teddy bear. “I don’t want people knowing…”

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” You whispered, moving over to the table to steal a cookie. “But Dean, Christmas music?” By this time, the song Marshmallow World was almost over, and Dean just shrugged his shoulder.

“It seemed like the thing to do.” He answered as you took a bite of the sugar cookie. It was soft and sweet, better than many in the stores.

“Can I help?” You asked him, ready to use all the cookie decorations you had just bought at the store.

Smiling widely, he nodded. “Hell yeah! You can start decorating the cookies while I finish up with this pie.”

With the radio playing in the background, you went and retrieved the bags from the map table, bringing them back, smiling as Dean continued to hum along to the songs. Laying all of the frosting and decorations out in front of you, you picked up a cookie cut out in the shape of a tree, getting to work.

It was only minutes later before Dean was by your side, his shoulder brushing yours as he picked up a star. “This is nice.” He mumbled a little bit later. “I never realized how much I missed moments like these. Spending time with those you love, without the thoughts of hunting, or saving people always on your mind. Your only worry about the pie in the oven, and if this star should be yellow or blue.”

“That’s why it’s so important to do these things.” You answered, reaching over and squeezing his hands. “Our lives are full of horror and sadness. We need to celebrate each little moments, and holidays to remind ourselves that hunting doesn’t define us. It’s what we do, but it doesn’t have to be who we are.”

“You’re so smart.” He answered. “Hunting has been my only way of life for so long, it’s going to take some time to realize there’s other ways as well. But little steps, like learning to bake, and decorating cookies beside the woman I love.”

“Well, later we can finish decorating the bunker, and then snuggle in front of the fire.” You suggested.

“And eat these cookies?” He asked, and you nodded.

“Of course! We aren’t letting these babies go to waste.” You answered, reaching for a reindeer.

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acreativelydifferentlove @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278 @anokhi07 @aubreystilinski @bebravekeeponfighting @colette2537 @deanwinchesters-impala67 @haelyn @ikeneasul11 @its-not-a-tulpa @mysteriously-lost @lenaabs @love-charmer-sketch @ruprecht0420 @sizzlingbearpolice @sleep-silent-angel @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @thesaneone @queen--glitch

Forever Tags(Closed):@16wiishes @amanda-teaches @andreaaalove @angelsandwinchesters @anxuanpham @artisticpoet @atc74 @babydanixox @bambinovak @bea789 @be-amaziing @beltz2016 @benjerry707 @bish-its-me @bohowitch @boxywrites @bradygabrielle-blog @brooke-supernatural16 

 @brunettechick @buffytheangelslayer @camelotandastronauts @cantsleepian @cascar24 @castielhasthetardis @captainaudreystark @captainemwinchester @captainradicalpassion @chelsea072498 @clairese1980 @createdbybadappreciation  @criesateverything @crystal923  @darthdeziewok

 @delessapeace-blog @destiel-addict-forever @disneychic8 @dixonsvixon2017 @docharleythegeekqueen @dontslurp @dslocum89 @duckieburns @easelweasel  @edward-lover18 @emmazach @emoryhemsworth @emmysthougts @ericaprice2008 @evyiione @essie1876 @extreme-supernatural-lover @faegal04  @freddy-fuckboy-tammy 

@gabriels-trix @generalgoldfishldrm @ginamsmith @gloria1097  @goldenolaf25 @growningupgeek @haleyhay96 @hetsgrinch @hollandisstilinski @hunterpuff @iliketowrite02 @imboredsueme @impatient-witch @inlovewithbja @iriyelle  @ithinkimadorable-67 @iwriteaboutdean 

@jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @jayankles @jenna-luke @jensen-gal @juatanotherbandgirl @just-another-busy-fangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @katelynbkool @keelzy2 @likesiriusly @linki-locks11 @li-ssu @littleblue5mcdork @livingasafangirl @loricwizardbluetoastedcake @love-untiltheresnoloveleft @lowlyapprentice  @mariahoedt 

@marvelandwinchesters927 @maui137 @mellowlandrunaway @mogaruke @moosesamdeancasbees @mrsbatesmotel53 @mrssamfuckingwinchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @myplaceofthingsilove @my-squirrel-and-moose @nanie5 @naviwhite  @nerdybookwormsinger @ohgodjensen @oneshoeshort

 @padackles2010 @pancake-pages @percussiongirl2017 @pilaxia @pizzarollpatrol @plaid-lover-bay25 @jayankles @procratsinator @quiverhope @randomthings077 @ria132love @riversong-sam @rosegoldquintis @roxyspearing @sai-kida134 @samisimportant @sammysgirl1997 @sandlee44

 @sanity-is-overratedxp @saoirsewhittle @sgarrett49 @sgtbxckybxrnes @shamelesslydean @simplycheyenneautumn @spnbaby67 @spnbaby-67  @spn-dscc @starstruck-sugg @summer-binging-spn @superbadassnatural @supernatural-jackles   @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @tatortot2701 

@thebikiniinspector @the--blackdahlia @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @thoughtsoftheantagonist  @tokentransboy @trashforwinchesters @tunadean @upon-a-girl  @vvinch3st3r @walkslikesummeractslikerain @waywardmoeyy @winchester-writes @wonderange @zombiewerewolfqueen

[thatgirlintheaudience]

So last week I saw Waitress on tour! (Yes, they are using the Betsy Wolfe Playbill.) 

I just want to say, Desi Oakley is perfection in this role. After seeing Jessie Mueller, I had lots of doubts about different Jennas, but Desi is an angel. And you can tell in the interviews that she just adores this role. She was great!

If anyone’s interested in the pie flavors, they were apple pie and salted chocolate caramel. ;)

God, I love “What’s Inside.” There is such a strong back beat in that song I never realized. Like, wow, and the lyrics..(get ready for me to praise Sara Bareilles ten million times.) 

“Opening Up” is so fun and energetic. Love. 

“The Negative.” LOVE IT. I really love the conversation happening between Jenna, Dawn, and Becky. It really shows their friendship and their characters.  

When Earl comes to the diner, and asks Jenna for her money, Jenna gives Earl the money, and looks over at Joe, shielding her body so he won’t see. I thought that was interesting.

WOW WOW WOW WOW “WHAT BAKING CAN DO”. I know “She Used to be Mine” is like the hit of the show and don’t get me wrong it is an amazing song, but WBCD  gets so overlooked. It is amazing and Desi sings it, well, amazingly. The way she sings, “I’ll show them all how goddamn happy I am!” “Am’ is the key word here. She does it so different from Jessie and I love it!!! Here’s a video of her singing it; the part I’m talking about happens around 2:55. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zbLvs94SeSo). And just such a powerful song, especially with Jenna’s mom and dad fighting in the back. 

I love “Pomatter Pie” and if you haven’t had the Mermaid Marshmallow pie, you must make it. It’s “biblically good.” 

“When He Sees Me” is an adorable, relatable song and I love it. But what is it with Sara Bareilles and doors? Let’s examine: 

“I’ll bake me a door to help me get through” and “Every door we ever made, we never once walked out” are lyrics in “What Baking Can Do” and the lyrics in “When He Sees Me” are: “What if he opens up a door and I can’t close it?” I’m just saying... I love it though. 

When Dawn is going on her fist date with Ogie, Jenna and Becky give her a “makeover” and Jenna bakes her a pie. Dawn says, “Jenna, you are the queen of goodness and kindness.” That made me feel emotions. 

“It Only Takes a Taste” or AKA “What is DR.POMATTER’S BACKSTORY???”

Ugh, “You Will Still Be Mine.” I get it, Earl’s the bad guy, but every actor that plays him is just so good. I loved Nick Cordero and I thought Nick Bailey was great as well. Also, the minute Earl made his entrance, the crowd was dead silent. I remember on Broadway, when Earl found the money Jenna was hiding, the crowd was like shook. Just dead silent. And I mean, I think it’s amazing when an actor can demand that reaction through his/her character. 

“A Soft Place to Land.” Um, yeah, magical song. AND JUST BEAUTIFUL LYRICS. “Dreams are elusive, the kind we’ve gotten used to.”

“Bad Idea”  was sooo good. Yet again, those lyrics. “It’s the only thing I’ve ever done, what if I never see myself ever be anything more than what I’ve already become?”

ACT 2 

CHARITY ANGEL DAWSON. VOCALS. I am so happy for her. I saw her as Nurse Norma in New York and am so happy she is now playing Becky! But anyway, she killed “I Didn’t Plan It.” 

In one scene, Jenna goes to see Dr. Pomatter and Nurse Norma tells her that he went to a funeral back home with his wife. Jenna brought a pie, and Nurse Norma goes, “What’s the pie called?’’ and Jenna said in the saddest voice, “The pursuit of happiness pie.” I think my hear cracked a little. Like, she just thought she was finally gonna be genuinely happy with Dr. Pomatter and then to find out he’s with his wife over seeing you at your doctor’s appointment. Gut wrenching. 

Before, “You Matter to Me” Jenna asks Dr.Pomatter if he’s happy and he says, “I’m not used to happy, but you, you make me feel at peace, calm.” God, I loved that. Okay, “YOU MATTER TO ME.” DO I EVEN CONTINUE? Okay, I’ll say it again, the lyric, “I could find the whole meaning of life in those sad eyes” should win all the Grammys and Tonys in the world! I mean, it’s just such a special song and moment. Ugh!!!

“Dear Baby” so sad, so emotional. Goddamn. 

“She Used to be Mine” shivers on my face, emotions all over. You know how it goes. 

“Contraction Ballet” and Lulu’s Birth was so well done. Jenna stands on the bed and her mom comes and blows the flour and everything is just going fast. It’s so cool. Shout out to Diane Paulus!

Before Lulu’s birth, Jenna has a conversation with Cal (he was so funny, by the way!) about happiness. And Cal says he’s “happy enough.” And when Jenna has Lulu, she says “We’re not gonna be happy enough, little girl, we’re gonna be really happy.” It kind of made me cry. 

And then the last pie, Jenna gives Dr. P is Thanks for Taking Me to the Moon pie, and he says in the saddest voice ever “Another lifetime...” God, it was really sad. 

Also there was a few boos for Earl at curtain call, so just a reminder not to boo actors. :)

Anyway, this show is so amazing, and is really important in these times. Try to see it either on tour or in NYC! 

Sugar, butter, flour. 

[x-compendiums-of-castiel-x]

Just A Crush

Chapter 9: Desperate Need Of Truth

Castielxreader

Word Count: 5,380

Summary: When people talk and others listen, we find out things we never knew before... Also Cas is curious, do you have feelings for him?

When you went downstairs, you followed the soft hum that came from the kitchen. Your mother always hummed while she cooked; breakfast, lunch, and dinner, a tune would escape from her. You didn’t realize how much you’ve missed it until now. As you entered, she had her back to you as she washed off some vegetables in the sink. Your parents grew a small garden out in the backyard; vegetables ranging from tomatoes, squash, peppers, and even corn, so she must have just picked some.

“Hey,” you greet as you approached her. She couldn’t help but turn back and smile, looking behind you to see if Cas was with you. You noticed and it reminded you of what recently happened.

“What do you both like to eat?” her tone was genuine. Pursing your lips, you couldn’t help but shrug.

“Anything really,” you admit. While Cas had been human, there hadn’t really been anything he absolutely didn’t like; he was open to try anything. There were a few things he wasn’t too fond of, but he didn’t hate it.

“I need you to be more specific,” her motherly tone seeping through, “What’s his favorite meal?” Her shoulder shrugged towards the door you had come through, assuming you had left Cas in the other room.

“Peanut butter and Jelly sandwiches,” you explain, not really thinking anything of it. Your mother cocked her head towards you, a questionable look featuring across her face.

“I’m being serious. I want him to feel at home here, what better way than to fix him his favorite meal? I need your help.”

“I’m being serious too, he loves pb&j. I don’t get it, but he does…. I mean… I get it, because they are good, but honestly he would be satisfied just surviving on those for the rest of his life… and he would if I didn’t ask him to try other things,” you gave.

“You’re telling me, if I just made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches he would be okay with that?” she couldn’t help but give a skeptical look towards you.

“He would be more okay with that,” you confirm. She smiled and shook her head as she turned back to the vegetables she was washing.

“Did he eat them a lot as a child?” the question slipped from her lips without hesitation, not seeing anything wrong with asking. Though you knew the answer but you couldn’t tell her. You couldn’t say that Cas didn’t eat as a child, because he hadn’t actually been a human child before. Angels don’t eat or rather they ‘don’t need sustenance’.

“I don’t think so,” you said. She nodded before turning the water off, moving over to dry the veggies with a towel.

“How many brothers does he have?” Her questions were to be expected, but you weren’t sure how to answer them.

“Uh… quite a few,” you shift, turning to the refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of water.

“Any sisters?” she pressed.

“Yeah… he has sisters,” you explain, not letting the truth slip completely. Angels didn’t have genders, their vessels did.

“You don’t like to talk about them?” lifting her head, she met your gaze.

“Cas doesn’t…. some of his siblings have passed on and the others don’t care for him much. They aren’t good to him,” you didn’t want to lie, so a variation of the truth couldn’t hurt.

“Oh,” is all she could muster up to say. You knew she felt bad, especially since she knew he didn’t have a mother and his father wasn't there for him.

“What about his father?” There it was. If she only knew God was your pretend 'father-in-law'. Did it even work like that? Who knows, you were just going to go with it.

“His name is… Chuck… he wasn’t really there for them, not all the time. Cas was close with his brother Gabriel, and Balthazar too in a way, but even their bonds weren’t that great.”

“Does he still see them?” little did you know how painful this question would be until she had asked it. Gabriel liked to play games, to an extent where it could be absolutely annoying. But he was a good guy… all he wanted was to escape from it all. Balthazar too towards the end, he didn’t want to have any part of it. One thing you couldn’t do, was tell her that Cas had killed him, nor that Lucifer killed Gabriel; those confessions were better left unsaid.

“They aren’t here anymore.” You couldn’t help but sulk a little, especially for Gabriel. You missed the trickster...

“What about his mother?” you were glad she waited until Cas wasn't around to ask you these questions, she was a little more considerate than your sister. Not that Jenna would have known.

“He never knew her,” surely that would be a better answer than his mother didn’t exist. How well would that have gone over? 'Cas’ mother is nonexistent. His father created him because his father is God. Maybe next time we're down, we'll invite him to join us so you and father can meet the Creator, himself… Oh, and he prefers to go by Chuck… just a little reminder. Lol, shits and giggles, you’re so funny (y/n).’ Rolling your eyes at yourself, you walk over to the counter where your mother was standing.

“He’s done pretty well though, regardless of where he came from. He rose above it all… and chose his own free will. He can be different at times or seem a little off, but it's because of how he grew up…. His situation as a whole is… indescribable really. He’s trying though and he’s doing really well one on one,” you explain knowingly. She smiled as she finished drying the last tomato.

“He really cares for you, you know,” she finally glances up after a few moments of silence, you couldn’t help but freeze up.

“Mom,” you let out a struggled laugh. If she only knew this whole thing between you and him wasn’t real. Sure, you felt deeply for him but you didn’t expect someone like him to love you back.

“He does,” she claimed, “I see it in the way he is with you.” All you could do was fake a smile for her, so she wouldn’t know that something was up. You only wished he did. Sure, as a friend maybe, but not in the romantic way you were hoping for.

“You two will be the next ones to get married,” smiling, she made her way over to the table; displaying the vegetables in the bowl that was placed in the center.

“Well… if he asks I wouldn’t be one to say no,” you fake another laugh, which luckily goes by unnoticed. If he asked, you’d be out of your mind to say no, but why would he even ask? You weren’t really together, that was clear, but angels didn’t marry. It was also clear that Cas was no longer an angel, but you were pretty sure marriage wasn’t even important to him. Some of the things angels deal with makes marriage seem like… like it's just a worthless piece of paper in comparison; like it's just something humans do to pass the time.

“Good, you deserve to be happy sweetheart.” Making her way over to the refrigerator, she pulled out the jelly and then moved towards the pantry to get the peanut butter. Although it seemed like you had just ate, it was past lunch time. You decided to collect the plates for her, grabbing four because your father would undoubtedly like one too. She made the sandwiches without asking any more questions, it wasn't until you were fixing to call for Cas, that she spoke up.

“I’m going to have beautiful grandchildren.” It were as if she were speaking to herself, but it got you thinking. Jenna and Jim would give her beautiful grandchildren. They would make a wonderful family; Jim and Jenna would be amazing parents and you would be a great aunt… that is, when you would be around.

“Cas!” you called, trying to escape the thoughts in your mind. It made you sad to know you were going to miss moments when your sister had a baby. Honestly, when you and Cas were to leave, even that would be difficult. You missed it here; your family, your old room, your old life. But you kept reminding yourself that you wouldn’t have met Cas if things hadn’t happened the way they had. You loved the boys and saving the world when it needed to be saved. But now that you were thinking about it, Cas had been right. What if you were to die? Your family wouldn’t know the truth and you couldn’t exactly ask the boys or even Cas to come explain the truth to them. It wouldn’t be right or fair to anyone. You needed to tell them the truth. Even though you were trying to save them, what if some demon came along and tried to use them against you. Not only that, but what if some monster moved into town tomorrow? How would they be able to protect themselves if they didn’t know what to look out for?

“Does Cas want children?” she pondered. Cas hadn’t made it down the stairs yet, so it was nothing he could hear but it pulled you back.

“Uh…I don’t… I don’t know. He’s never said anything,” your cheeks flared up. In order to have kids, you had to have sex and just thinking about sex with Cas… it made you flustered. Your mother didn’t notice your blush, she just took in the thought of your words.

“What’s for lunch?” at that time, your father walked in with a soft smile.

“Pb&J’s,” you inform, eyes moving over towards Cas as he walked through the entrance, “your favorite.” Despite your previous encounter, Cas gave you a warming smile as he came to stand next to you; slipping his hand into yours. Your father watched him cautiously, he wasn't sure about Cas. Not because of something he had done, but because you had already been hurt before. Your father didn’t ever want that to happen again so he wasn't going to be too careful. He sat down at the table and you motioned for Cas to do the same as you helped your mother fill drinks. This time at the table, you and your mother sat on either side of your father and Cas sat between you and your mother, facing your father.

“How’s work going?” you ask simply, starting up a conversation. Your father finished his bite and chased it down with a gulp of water before answering.

“It’s going well. Stocks are down, but I think we're going to see an increase pretty soon,” he gave. Nodding your head towards him, you stole a quick glance at Cas; your mother noticing the way you watched him so shyly.

“I hope you like it,” your mother spoke up, talking to Cas. Lifting his head he noticed she was talking to him and he nodded with a smile.

“She said these were your favorite,” she continued. Turning his gaze over to you, you couldn’t help but smile back; Cas had that effect on you.

“They are delightful. Thank you,” Cas looked back towards your mother, smile still beaming upon his features.

“You’re welcome,” her reply was heartfelt. She really, really liked Cas; especially for you. A few minutes went by without anyone saying anything, the four of you focusing on your meal.

“Cas, do you want to have children?” your mother’s question was out of the blue and it was a million times worse when she asked now than it had been earlier when it was just you and her. Not only did she out right ask Cas, but your father was in the room too. Your eyes flew over to Cas, to reel in his emotions over the matter. He stopped chewing and his eyes slowly lifted up to meet your mother's; his smile from earlier now diminished and his features were plain with a red tint upon his cheeks. Watching her for a few seconds, he looked over to you as if he were asking for help. You couldn’t blame him, could you? I mean, his fake ‘girlfriend’s' mother was asking him about his future possibilities with kids. Again Cas was human but angels didn’t reproduce, nephilim weren’t allowed. So angel Cas hadn’t even considered it especially with the life you all live, and Cas hadn’t been human long. You seriously doubted marriage and reproducing were at the top of his current to-do list. You tried to speak up, to say something to help him out but you couldn’t even make a sound. Cas’ blue eyes slipped from yours and they met with your fathers for a moment before he settled back to your mom.

“If (Y/n) would like to have them. I want her to be happy,” he replied almost as if he were serious. It was difficult for you to tell and spot the difference; Cas was getting good at this little charade.

“Hopefully you would marry her first,” your father elaborated. He was old school that way. Nowadays, people don’t always wait for marriage but he wanted you and Jenna to be. Jim even came and asked him for his blessing before proposing to Jenna.

“Dad,” you exhale, putting your sandwich down on your plate cautiously.

“What? If he’s planning to have children with you then he needs to commit with you first. Not just because it’s what you want, but because it's what he wants,” he stood his ground. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for Cas. This was one of the moments you couldn’t say anything without risking the charade you two were playing.

“Honey,” your mother spoke up this time, pulling his attention to her. She sent him the look and your father tried a different approach.

“I just don’t want something to happen. Castiel, this is my little girl. I hope you can see that I only want what's best for her as she’s already had trouble in her past. You make her happy, I can see that; but are you happy?” You expected Cas to hesitate before he replied, but he surprised you with his quick response.

“I love her. She makes me happy and I’m happy to be here with her; learning things I had no idea about...,” Cas explained and for a second your heart stopped beating. His confession were as if it were real, and you wanted it to be desperately. But this game you were playing, it was messing with your mind. Cas wouldn’t be saying these things if you were at the bunker. Cas’ gaze fell from your father and he focused on his plate; not moving, he just sat still. Somehow, you drew yourself together and placed your hand on his knee carefully, as if to play along. You turned to your father and you missed the look Cas sent you.

“See? We’re happy,” you claim, sending your father a soft smile. Maybe now he wouldn’t worry as much and he would take it easy on Cas for the rest of the stay. Though, your father didn’t say anything, perhaps it was the way Cas was acting at the moment; he seemed to be lost in thought. Probably thinking over what he had said and if it was the right thing to say. You sat up straighter and without realizing, your hand moved from your ‘boyfriend's’  knee to his upper thigh; Cas definitely noticed, his face heating at your contact with him. It didn’t even process, your mind was just trying to focus on choosing another topic of conversation.

“Jenna and Jim are coming back over tonight. We’re going to have s'mores out back around the fire pit,” your mother announced.

“Yes, I need to go gather wood for that,” your father explained as he stood from the table. He had finished his sandwich and put his plate in the sink before slipping out the back door.

“I’m sorry for that,” she apologized, placing her hand on Cas’ shoulder as she collected both of your empty plates.

“It’s alright,” Cas spoke, but he sounded off; even for himself, “Can I go back to your room and look at your poems?” He looked to you as if he was almost sad about something.

“Yeah Cas, you’re more than welcome to,” you nod, giving him a smile and only receiving a slight tug from his cheek that lifted his lip for a second. After excusing himself, he disappeared back upstairs and you couldn’t help but watch from where he had left. Wondering if he was okay because your father had been a little much.

“See, he loves you,” your mother sent you a knowing smile before she cleaned off the rest of the dishes. After they were rinsed, she came and sat back down at the table with you. You managed to change topics and the two of you started talking about what all had happened here while you were gone. You hadn’t realized, but the two of you had talked for a couple of hours. Somewhere in the conversation, your father had come back inside and went back to his study to work. Cas had stayed up in your room, reading every single poem you had up there and taking in the vastness of your artworks; he loved them all, simply because you had made them and at the time, you were expressing yourself.

A ring from the doorbell brought you and your mother from your deep conversation. She rose from her seat and sought after the door. After looking at the time, you knew it had to be Jim and Jenna; the day had flew by. Standing from your chair, you heard Jenna’s laughter as you pushed it in. Within seconds, the three of them joined you in the kitchen.

“Hey!” Jenna’s excitement about seeing you was still evident; almost as if she hadn’t even seen you the night before.

“Hey little sister,” you hug her tightly as a smile surfaced. After pulling away, you hugged Jim like you had before and noticed a heartfelt smile upon his lips. You were happy he would be joining the family, even though you were barely apart of it anymore.

“Where’s Cas?” Jenna asked, noticing his absence.

“Upstairs probably hiding from dad,” rolling your eyes playfully, the both you giggled.

“Oh no, what did he say to him?”

“He was just being Dad,” you chuckle, “no but, Cas is upstairs reading my poems.” Jenna straightened up, knowing full well you hadn’t been up there in years. When you left, she used to go sit up there sometimes; recalling old memories and thinking about how fun you were before you became involved with Erin.

“I’ll go get him,” you noticed her expression but parted with a forced smile. You hadn’t realized how much you had hurt them so many years ago until now. Not only did you lose yourself, but your parents lost a daughter and Jenna lost her sister. As you climbed up the stairs, you had to shake the thoughts from your head, its not like you could go back and change things. You could only improve things from here. The door was open and you found Cas laying on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

“Cas?” you called out for him, wondering what on earth he could possibly be doing and how long he had been like that. Perhaps you should have come to check on him sooner. He turned his head to you instantly and a hum escaped from his lips.

“What are you doing?” you couldn’t help but ask as you leaned against the door frame. He turned his head back to your ceiling.

“Thinking,” he admitted softly. Was this about earlier? About what your father had said? You weren’t sure, but you entered the room and sat down on the floor beside him. It took a few moments, but you decided to lay beside him and look up too. The years have flown by since you’ve slept in here and you forgot you had put up glow in the dark stars that covered your ceiling.

“I’m sorry about my father. He can be… too much at times…,” you said, turning your head towards him now. He had closed his eyes, and you weren’t quite sure what was going on with him.

“And my mother too. I had no idea she was going to ask you that,” you explain. His eyes opened and eventually he turned to look at you once more.

“They are good parents,” he admitted genuinely. Giving him a small smile, you could tell something else was bothering him. He sat up from the floor, sitting for a moment before completely standing. You laid there watching him until you pulled yourself up to do the same. He was now transfixed on the floor, his hands down by his sides.

“What’s wrong Cas?” your voice was low, he was really starting to worry you.

“It’s nothing,” his answer was hesitant and it only fueled your worry.

“It’s not nothing,… clearly something is wrong. Talk to me,” you pressed. He moved his gaze towards you instantly, his eyes speaking a thousand words but you couldn’t hear what they were crying out for.

“We’re lying to them…,” he began, “ I understand I told you I would ‘roll with it’, but… your father wants the best for you, your mother too; they are good people.

“What are you saying? You don’t want to do this?” Crossing your arms, you drew your brows in confusion. You couldn’t help but get defensive.

“No, I didn’t say that…,” he began, but you interrupted him.

“Well what do you want from me? Do you not think I know that they deserve the truth? It’s been circling my mind ever since we discussed it yesterday Cas. I know that the way I’ve handled things have been complete crap, okay? I know that by trying to keep them save, I’ve only put them in more danger; thankfully nothing has happened to them…. I’m going to tell them the truth, I promise…I just can’t tell them right now.

“The truth about everything?” He gave you a knowing look, as if you knew what he should be talking about.

“What do you mean ‘everything’? Of course I will,” you declared. Cas stance fell, he looked weak almost before he spoke up again.

“Even about us?”

“What about us?” What was he talking about?

“You and I… we’re not…,” he explained softly.

“I know. Okay, I know that we’re a lie too. I’ve been living a lie for years and lying has just become a part of me. If you want them to know the truth about us, then there’s no point in pretending we're together anymore, is there? Do you want to leave Cas? Is that what’s wrong?” you weren’t mad, if anything you were severely heartbroken and he could notice that much.

“No, I don’t want that (y/n). I don’t want Dean to come, I don’t want to leave, I want to stay with you,” he answered, moving closer to you.

“But you don’t want to lie anymore? So what are we supposed to do? Go down there and just tell everyone that we're just friends?"

"I came here to be your ‘boyfriend’,” he used his air quotes, “and that’s what I’ll be. But what about next time? What about when you come back to visit? Are you still going to pretend that…that we’re together? Or is this just for the wedding?” He threw you off guard for a moment. You hadn’t thought about it this thoroughly before. What were your plans for the future? Your family could see how happy you were with him now, but what if down the line Cas got into a real relationship? It wouldn’t be fair to call him yours, fake or not, when he belonged to someone else. At least, you knew if he were yours, you wouldn’t want to be sharing him with anyone else.

“I don’t know,” you barely managed, tears were threatening your eyes, but you looked away so he wouldn’t see.

“Your family doesn’t like Erin. That’s understandable, but I would never hurt you like that. I just want to know what you're planning on telling them once we leave. Are we going to continue pretending or are you going to say that we aren’t together anymore? They can noticeably see a difference in you while you’re pretending with me, but what would you tell them? That you broke up with me? They would never believe that (y/n), especially your father. He would think that I hurt you like Erin did. I don’t want that to happen."

“So you want to be my ‘boyfriend’ now and next time just tell them the truth? That we aren’t and never have been together, that we were faking it?"

“I just want to make it clear that I would never hurt you. But what happens if you meet someone else and you bring them home with you next time? I would love to come with you again, but if you have a real boyfriend… you wouldn’t even have to make a decision, it would be him."

“You would want to come back?

“Yes. I enjoy spending time with you but if you found someone else...,” he cleared.

“Then that settles it,” you explain, leaving him even more confused than before.

“I would come back, unless you were to get another boyfriend?”

“Cas… I don’t want…,” you paused. You didn’t want anyone else as a boyfriend, you would take Cas being your pretend boyfriend any day over having to spend your life with someone else; though you couldn’t really just tell him that, you didn’t have it in you. If you did, you would have told him nine years ago when he first stole your heart.

“I’m not getting a real boyfriend, I don’t want that. But if you like coming, then I don’t see why it would be a problem if you came with me again next time.” He watched you before nodding his head in agreement.

“I would like that,” he gave, his saddened demeanor from earlier changed.

“As for the whole marriage and children thing,” you cracked a smile, “ let's not worry about that right now, okay? We’ll deal with that later.” A smile began to form on his features as he nodded again.

“And just to clear things up, I would never compare you to Erin to them. You’re not him and you’re not ever going to be blamed for something he did, okay. I’m not sure if that’s what you were upset about, but are you okay?” You were concerned but hopeful. Today was supposed to be a good day, and you were damned if it turned out to be a complete shit show like the last few days had been. Cas nodded and you smiled to see if he would reciprocate.

“Okay, you’re good, I’m good and we're still going to do this?” you couldn’t be too sure, you needed to hear him say it.

“I want to, if you do,” he said. Shaking your head agreeing to him, you couldn’t help but smile again as he smiled first this time.

“Okay,” you looked away from him for a second, “Cas, have you ever had a s’more.” Looking back up, you saw that he had tilted his head at your question.

“You’re going to love them,” you tell him, holding your hand out for him to take. He obliged, and followed you downstairs. Everyone was already outside, gathered by the fire pit. It was still a little early for s’mores but you met them outside anyway. Before you knew it, your sister whisked you away from Cas, pulling you over to sit between her and your mother. She wanted to catch up and also talk to you about her wedding details some more. Cas sat across from you on the other side of the fire by your father and Jim. They sat quietly as you girls talked for a while and every now and then, you would send him a friendly smile that he would return. After a while, your father received a phone call and his work pulled him back into the house. Usually, he stopped working around 5 but their office had to stay late tonight to get ‘some numbers in’ as he had said before going back inside. Your sister kept talking and talking, which you didn’t mind at all. You had missed this so it was good to catch up in person.

“It’s a great feeling isn’t it?” Jim announced, pulling Cas away from staring at you.

“What?” Cas tilted his head in question.

“Loving someone who loves you back, unconditionally,” Jim sat back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and then crossing his arms against his chest. Castiel watched him for a second before turning to look back at you. This was only an act, you and him.

“You really don’t know yet do you?” Jim chuckled softly, not loud enough to catch your attention, while shaking his head.

“(Y/n) doesn’t call a lot when she’s gone. When she does though, she’s on the phone for hours; especially with Jenna. You’re all she’s ever talked about for the last nine years; since the moment she saw you. Hell, I knew what you looked like before I even met you; her describing you over and over to J so she could get an idea. I know how she feels though. I have that feeling with Jenna; I’m in love with her. Honestly, I couldn’t tell you why I waited so long to go after her,” Jim told, seeing if Cas would catch on. After you telling Cas that you had told them things so this ‘relationship’ would be believable, he didn’t know what was actually real anymore.

“Look…, she’s never going to tell you the truth willingly. (Y/n)’s afraid you’ll reject her and shut her out. I know because I was her before I told Jenna; I was terrified Jenna wouldn’t want anything to do with me anymore. She shuts you out because it's her own way of protecting herself; instead of giving you the opportunity to hurt her, she has pushed you away and stayed distant so you wouldn’t even have the chance.” Cas listened to the words that Jim shared. It explained a lot really, but was it true? Not that he thought Jim would lie to him, but you had created a complete mess with all of the lies.

“She told me last night, when we were washing dishes, about your little ‘agreement’ you have going on right now. You know, the fake boyfriend act…. I know you don’t know me, but believe me when I tell you that she’s in love with you, man. She has been since the very first time she met you.” The look Cas was giving Jim, was understandable. The poor guy was completely confused and lost for words at this truth. Had you really been lying to him too… this whole time? Cas sat there for a couple of minutes after, a clear look of concern etched upon his features.

“Excuse me,” Cas stood and began walking back to the house, almost as if he were in a hurry. You all noticed and you sent Jim a questionable gaze, but he only shrugged his shoulders. Your sister kept talking so you didn’t really have a chance to go after him. Cas moved up the stairs rather quickly, he couldn’t make it to your room fast enough. Once inside, he closed the door behind him and leaned against it. How could he not have realized how you felt for him? This whole time? Pulling the phone from his pocket, he dialed and held it up to his ear.

“Hey Cas,” Dean answered. Cas wasn’t wasting time, he asked straight and to the point.

“Does she have feelings for me?”

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[zalrb]

It’s Finally Written! {TVD 1x22 Review}

1.  I find it kind funny that Caroline essentially becomes Carol Lockwood. I’m saying this because Carol is organizing the various floats/participants in the Miss Mystic parade and it reminds me of Caroline in 4x07 and pretty much any event after that.

2. “I’m here to eat cotton candy and steal your girl.” “Don’t start with me, Damon.” “Oh you started it with you ‘I’m insecure, leave Elena alone’ speech.” Damon, honey, you are the picture of insecurity when your time comes to be with Elena.

3. “You’re worried that now that Katherine is out of the picture, I’m going to turn all of my attention to Elena” basically what happens Damon because or obsession just needed somewhere to go. You guys watch Supernatural? You know what Dean and Sam expel a demon from someone and the black smoke goes searching for a new vessel? That’s Damon’s obsession.

4. Anna and Jeremy’s conversation is actually cringe-worthy mostly because of the acting but Jeremy, her mother is dead and you are not comforting at all. Maybe its a Gilbert thing.

5. Anna telling Jeremy to turn because he can shut off his emotions as a vampire is ridiculous because her emotions aren’t shut off, that’s how she can love Jeremy, if Jeremy shut off his emotions who is to say hat he would want to be with her, he would have no emotion! It’s so illogical.

6. “My whole life I never liked this man” ,--- Elena about John when Stefan tells her he could be his father. Remember that anon who tried to tell me that Elena hated John because he tried to kill Damon? LOL 

7. I like how Caroline tells Matt to hide his cast because it’s not era appropriate but there is a yellow school bus in the backdrop.

8. Elena isn’t even trying to make a case for herself with  Jeremy is the thing, she’s just like Jer, please” say something else, Elena.

9. Elena, Stefan, Tyler, Matt, Caroline and Jeremy are all in this parade in some capacity but Bonnie is on the sidelines? OK.

10. “I like you better like this. The period look, it didn’t suit you” because it reminded you too much of Katherine, Damon? But DE fans say Stefan is the one who had a problem separating the two of them?

11. “Don’t make me regret being your friend.” I mean, he raped your best friend and tried to kill your other one, Elena, you should’ve regretted this friendship from the jump. 

12. I remember when Damon mocked Jeremy and his teen angst I thought it was hilarious the first time I watched it because Jeremy was being so extra but it’s actually in terrible taste because Jeremy’s pain is all Damon's fault, seriously, the dude is trash. And I hate Bamon now but I remember I shipped them before because Damon’s appreciation for what he thought Bonnie did was genuine and there was respect there but with Elena, it was more like a conquest. And him roughing up Jeremy “for” Elena is ridiculous.

13. And Stefan being Stefan is honest and humble and sincere and you see that he’s getting through to Jeremy even if he’s still upset.

14. “Oh there’s only room for one do-gooder, I get it.” Damon, you threatened to turn Jeremy unconscious so when Stefan says “get over yourself” it’s the most appropriate response.

15. Liz, what do you actually do as a sheriff?

16. How would Liz override the mayor?

17. Honestly, what reason would Damon have to be at the MF parade until nightfall? Like does he not have anything better to do with his time? Skulker.

18. Also this is a terribly coordinated plan for the tomb vampires, I thought that once the fireworks started then everyone would be getting merked, not that when the fireworks started, they move to get in position to kill the people they wanted to murder.

19. OK. So here’s my thing. These vampires are in a crowded place in a small town and no one is seeing these people getting round up by the cops and injected with a substance? No one is going to question it? 

20. It makes no sense to me that John would stake Anna as a personal fuck you but not stake Damon when he and Isobel agreed to keep Elena safe from Damon and Stefan and Damon had actually tried to kill him.

21. I also find it interesting that when Damon is supposed to show some form of growth it isn’t related to Elena at all. He thanks Bonnie because he knows she hates vampires and him specifically but helped them anyway and when he wants to help Anna it’s because Stefan explains it him what selflessness is.

22. Elena being indignant that John tried to kill Damon doesn’t make sense unless she’s indignant that all of the vampires are being set on fire.

23. And Elena being indignant about Bonnie is also like ... Elena, look at who you run with though? Damon legit tried to kill her and he was responsible for her grandmother’s death if you can be like”oh Damon rapes and kills and manipulates people because he’s sad over Katherine” then you have to understand why Bonnie lied about the device. Compassion doesn’t just work for Damon, writers.

24. Hey Damon, remember when Stefan risked his life to save yours and then you try to kiss Elena? Stay classy.

25. Jeremy is all, I know you think you took away my suffering but I still feel empty and alone,OK, but you felt that way even when Vicki was alive though so I need the show to understand the difference between Jeremy’s pain about Vicki and his general teenage emo angst.

26. Jeremy, those don’t even look like enough pills to overdose on.

27. Kat’s eyes are beautifully big.

28. Damon, don’t play yourself, Bonnie legit said that she couldn’t let Stefan or Damon die because Elena loves Stefan that implies that because Stefan loves Damon and Elena loves Stefan, Damon’s well being is in Elena’s best interest.

29. Lol Ian is eating Nina’s face.

30. So Jenna glaring at Damon after catching him kiss who she thinks is Elena and then closing the door is not enough for me. Jenna was legit flirting with Damon at the bar like 6 episodes ago because they’re age appropriate for each other, if that man was kissing my underage niece, we would have some fucking words.

31. And then Katherine’s entrance. I don’t know why she couldn’t just snap John’s neck but whatever.

Thanks for reading!