#(and great seven... posing for photos is awkward. how Cater does this all the time is beyond me)

[krenenbaker]

sooo... finally, here's my Cater cosplay~! ◆

there are a number of things I plan to change about it in the future (ex. tidying up the gold trim and actually sewing it on, changing the buttons on the jacket, making a proper pocket for the pen, etc), but I'm pretty happy with how it ended up turning out!

@v-anrouge, @dove-da-birb, @wordycheeseblob - I seem to remember you asking me to tag you if/when I posted a cosplay... apologies if not (or if I missed anyone who wanted to be tagged!!)

[artificialqueens]

Undone, Chapter 22 (Bitney) - Stephanie/Veronica

A/N: Welcome to Chapter 22 of UNDONE, our slow burn Bitney lesbian AU. Here’s a link to the previous chapters. And here’s some art inspired by the story (by people for whom I would happily give up a kidney!).  

Summary: Things are progressing: Bianca’s divorce, her pregnancy, and her relationship with Courtney. Bonus: a little redemption moment for Willam.

Beta’d by the wonderful @jimvssherlock and guardian angel @missdandee <3

TW: Refereces to emotional abuse, PTSD

***

“Hey!” Courtney looks up from the stove, where she’s got several saucepans simmering.

Bianca should have known - she’d briefly mentioned having a craving for spaghetti and meatballs that afternoon. So of course, here’s her fairy godmother, catering to her every whim. Courtney dumps a colander of cooked spaghetti back into the pot and begins to ladle in the sauce.

Bianca watches her, greeting the dogs and shifting on her aching feet.

“That smells heavenly.”

Courtney giggles a bit, trying not to smile idiotically at the praise, hoping it will live up to Bianca’s seemingly high expectations.

“I’m using pre-made meatballs,” she says, feeling the need to temper those expectations a bit. “Because...you know. Meat juice.”

“Totally fair.”

“But the guy in Whole Foods promised me they’re really good.”

“I’m sure they’ll be great. What can I do to help?”

“Um...I think everything’s pretty much done.” Courtney smiles at her, giving the pasta a vigorous stir. “Just relax.”

Bianca doesn’t argue, sitting down heavily and taking a sip from her water glass. There’s a bowl of caesar salad, a basket of garlic bread, and a tray of roasted broccolini. She definitely doesn’t deserve to be spoiled like this. If she wasn’t ravenous, she’d probably object.

“So…” Courtney begins, dishing out some hearty portions. “How was therapy?”

“Well…she seemed cool. She said to call her Bob, which is weird, but I like her. She laughed at my jokes, so that was nice.”

Courtney glances back at her, eyebrow raised a bit, before turning back to the stove to finish plating.

“Alright…” She carries the plates over to the table and sets them down.

Bianca bites her lip. She’s pretty aware that making her therapist laugh isn’t the goal. But the whole thing just felt so awkward--she couldn’t help herself. She picks up the little dish of grated cheese and douses her spaghetti with it.

“I know I’m probably doing it all wrong.”

“Doing what all wrong?” Courtney asks.

“Therapy.”

“I don’t think that’s possible, B.”

“I saw your face,” Bianca tells her. “Don’t act like you weren’t thinking it.”

“Well...I mean, yes, I think you probably have a different approach than I would. But...that’s your journey,“ she shrugs.

Bianca rolls her eyes.

“Can you not be perfect for like...three seconds?”

“I’ll do my best,” Courtney preens, with fluttering lashes and a sassy wink.

Bianca laughs and takes a huge bite.

“Oh my god,” she says, words muffled by her mouth full of food.

“Is it good?” Courtney asks hopefully, taking a delicate bite from her own plate.

“So good. I could cry. I wish you could taste it.”

“I’m okay with my veggie sausage,” she says, “But I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s fucking delicious,” Bianca manages to say, once she’s swallowed.

Courtney beams at her.

“But think how good it would be if you made the meatballs yourself. Lazy.”

Courtney scrunches up her face. She throws a piece of garlic bread across the table and Bianca ducks, cackling.

***

Asia’s tone is uncharacteristically warm as she goes slowly through the divorce petition with Bianca, making sure for the third time that everything in there is accurate. Bianca nods along, initialing where she’s supposed to, signing where directed, but her mind is elsewhere, spinning in unproductive circles.

After the last signature, Asia takes the sheath of papers from her, saying, “Last chance to change your mind.”

Bianca shakes her head.

“I’m not changing my mind.”

“Are you okay? This part is tough for people, so-”

“Yeah, I’m...I’m glad we’re moving forward, I just...there’s something I should probably have told you sooner.” Bianca bites her lip, the sharp pain keeping her grounded in the moment when all she really wants is to tune it all out.

“Alright.” Asia folds her hands, waiting.

“Um...I’m pregnant.”

Asia nods slowly, the only sign of surprise one slightly raised eyebrow.

“How far along are you?”

“A little over seven weeks.”

“Are you gonna keep it?” Asia asks, face impassive.

“Yes!” Bianca exclaims, following up with a softer, “...yes.”

Asia leans back in her chair, letting out a long sigh, nodding.

“This complicates things. You know that.”

“I do.”

“Alright.” Asia sits up straight, clicks her tongue and makes a note on her pad. Back to business. “We don’t need to change anything in the filing. We can tell them when we’re negotiating. If it’s still relevant.”

Bianca opens her mouth, horrified, a hand going automatically to her abdomen. Asia’s face softens, eyes flicking over to a framed photo of a beautiful little girl for less than a moment, then back to Bianca.

“I’m just saying...shit happens. No use bringing it up until you’re...out of the danger zone.”

Bianca nods, a sick feeling creeping into her stomach. Will she ever be out of the danger zone? She looks out the window, blinking back tears and trying her best to breathe evenly.

“Go home,” Asia tells her. “Try not to think about it. We’ll serve in the morning and I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from his lawyer.”

“Thanks, Asia.”

***

Courtney emerges from the fitting room, twirling in the full-skirted dress that she knows Bianca’s been working on all week.

“Well?” She strikes a pose.

“It’s perfect,” Bianca grins, taking the polaroid. “Come here.”

“Yeah?” Courtney sashays forward slowly, a coy sparkle in her eye.

Bianca waits for her to get close, close enough to see the faint freckles across her nose, to feel the heat radiating off her skin, before she holds up the lint brush.

Glancing down at it, an airy little giggle bubbles up out of Courtney’s chest, releasing some of the tension in the room. Bianca begins to roll the brush over the velvet fabric, lifting up one of Courtney’s arms by the wrist.

“Be gentle,” Courtney teases, and Bianca slows down.

“This good?” Bianca’s voice is a whisper.

Courtney nods, swallowing. She lets Bianca work, pliant as a doll, spinning with the softest nudge. Her heart beats rapidly as the roller runs over her back and shoulders. Bianca puts down the roller, smoothing the fabric with her hands.

“Okay...I think you’re good,” Bianca says softly, eyes catching Courtney’s in the mirror.

“Thanks.” Before she opens the trailer door, she turns back with a big smile on her face and suggests, “Rebel Wilson Del Rio?”

“Get out of here,” Bianca says, her amusement betrayed by the dimples that she fails to suppress.  

As the screen door shuts, Bianca can still hear Courtney’s laughter floating through the air.

***

“Hey Court, do you want to-” Bianca stops, leaning on the door frame, pressing her lips together to keep from laughing.

Courtney is in the middle of the room, airpods in, rocking out to some music that only she can hear. Without the accompanying audio, she looks possessed, gyrating like a madwoman. Bianca manages to catch almost 30 seconds of this bizarre show, dimples getting deeper and deeper, before Courtney spots her, gasping in surprise.

“Oh my god!” Courtney pulls out one of her airpods, breathing hard. There’s a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” Bianca isn’t the least bit sorry. She’s wildly entertained, in fact. “Why the silent disco?”

“I was trying to keep it down...”

“You know, you’re allowed to play music in your own house.”

“I know, but…you were working.” Courtney offers a little shrug, and Bianca can’t help the overwhelming affection that floods through her.

“Thanks. Well...regardless, it was quite a show.”

“Oh yeah?” Courtney poses, hand on her hip, “You liked it?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” she teases, grinning at Courtney’s look of feigned offense.

“Maybe next time you’ll join in.”

“Unlikely.”

“Mm...I’ll take that as a challenge,” Courtney laughs, eyes crinkling.

***

Bianca sits on the sofa in Bob’s office, fingers twisting a tissue in her hand. She doesn’t like the question that’s being posed to her, doesn’t know what to say. Bob repeats it, slightly differently, hoping for a response.

“Why do you think you can’t you say the word?”

“I...I don’t know.”

“How does it make you feel when I say it?” she asks.

“Um...ashamed. Like, how did I let it happen for so long? But also, kind of pissed...I don’t want to be a victim.”

“Well, you’re not a victim. You know, most people-” Bob pauses, adding, “-most women...they don’t leave. They stay. You left. You’re already well on your way towards starting a new life. You’re not a victim. You’re a survivor.”

Bianca nods, not quite believing her. There’s a familiar tingling in her fingers and toes, and she flexes her hands, shifting on the sofa, trying to get more comfortable.

“What’s going through your mind?”

Bianca bites her lip. It’s very unlike her to be at a loss for words, but that’s how she feels more often than not in this setting. There’s so much pressure to understand, to carefully deconstruct her thoughts in a way that she’s not accustomed. Usually, she speaks first and thinks later. That doesn’t work in here.

“I get what you mean...but I did stay. For over twelve years. That’s...we didn’t even get married until almost two years ago, we had no kids, nothing was keeping me. And now…” Her voice breaks. She pauses, gulping down some of her water.

Bob waits patiently, hands folded and head tilted. The picture of empathy. Bianca hates it; nothing makes her feel more broken inside than being looked at like that.

“What the fuck is wrong with me? Why did I stay?” Tears brim in her eyes.

“Why are you so determined to blame yourself?”

“Because I...wasn’t a prisoner. I could have left, anytime-”

“Really?”

“Uh, yeah.” Bianca’s brow furrows in confusion.

“There’s more than one kind of prison, Bianca. Emotional abuse...it’s very tricky. It’s seduction and manipulation and torture all at the same time. The entire goal is to make you feel like you can’t trust your own reality. That you are, in fact, the one in charge, the one doing the manipulating. It is...it’s a waking nightmare.”

Bianca nods again, still feeling that burning shame coursing through her.

“And you woke up. The hardest part is behind you. I promise.”

“I don’t…” Bianca shakes her head. “I don’t believe you.”

“Okay...fair enough. I guess time will tell, huh?”

Bianca laughs through her tears.

“I guess so.”

***

“Dear god…” Bianca looks down at the shopping cart, nearly full to the brim, as she follows Courtney through the aisles of Whole Foods.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just...so much! Why are you letting me buy all this?!”

“You think I’m gonna tell you that you can’t have something?” Courtney laughs.

“There are 5 different kinds of cheese in here!”

“You like cheese,” Courtney reasons, leaning over the back of the cart, placing a loaf of whole grain bread in the bag.

“I know, but you’re supposed to stop me!” Bianca exclaims.

“Yeah? What should I say? ‘I’m sorry, Ms. Del Rio, but we’ve hit the cheese quota today, you’ll have to put that back…’”

“No, just…” Bianca groans. “Remind me that I’m getting fat.”

Courtney folds her arms, a look of disapproval on her face.

“Excuse you-”

“Come on, seriously, I’m not supposed to be gaining this much, this early, I look like-”

Bianca’s cut off by a hand on her shoulder. Courtney’s walked around the cart and now staring her square in the face.

“You’re beautiful.”

“I am not-”

“Are so,” Courtney insists, voice soft and firm. “You’re beautiful, and you’re creating life. Say it. ‘I am beautiful and I am creating life-’”

“No,” Bianca answers, struggling to keep the smile from pulling at her mouth.

Courtney steps closer.

“Say it.” Her voice is practically a growl now.

“I...am beautiful and I am creating life.” Bianca manages to squeeze an eye roll in as well, which Courtney chooses to ignore, lips pursed in a self-satisfied smirk.

“Good girl,” she breathes, giving Bianca a pat on the ass before turning and flouncing back through the bakery, holding up a plastic package, asking sweetly, “Muffins?”

***

ALASKA: Hey, B. Willam told me that you and Jared are splitting up. I hope you’re okay. I think I might be able to help. Call me anytime if you want to discuss. <3

Bianca stares at her phone, unsure of what to do. After all, she hasn’t spoken to Alaska since that fateful night of the barbecue. And what if it’s some kind of trap...Jared standing over her shoulder, just waiting for the return call, or listening in?

She shakes her head. There’s a possibility that Willam would be involved in something devious like that, but not Alaska. Nonetheless, she doesn’t call right away. She stresses about it for a few hours first before finally settling down at her sewing table to dial, heart in her throat.

“Hey, I’m glad you called. How are you?”

Alaska’s voice is so gentle, so filled with warmth, that Bianca feels a twinge of guilt for doubting her intentions.

“Hi. Sorry for the delay, I’m at work, and-”

“No worries! I’m working too, so...I won’t keep you long, I promise. I just wanted to let you know that...Willam told me that Jared’s been saying some kind of troubling things at work, and he’s 100% willing to make a statement about it, or like, talk to your lawyer. If you want.”

“What kind of things?” Bianca can feel her heart speed up, her cheeks getting hot.

“Um…things like ‘this isn’t over’ and ‘I’ll show her’ and…” Alaska sighs, “I guess it doesn’t sound that bad, but like...I dunno, it made Will uncomfortable, and he’s pretty laid back. Maybe it was more like...the demeanor? You can totally talk to him directly if you want, but I thought it would be better if I reached out first. You know...girl to girl.”

“I really appreciate that...but...why? I mean...thank you but, why would he do this? Jared is his boss, his boy, I-” Bianca sniffles.

“Well...yeah, but. I mean, he likes you. And he’s pretty disturbed by some of the things Jared says to him, so…”

“God. I’m such an idiot.” Bianca wipes her eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“When I first met you, I felt sorry for you. I thought that Willam was this giant douchebag, and didn’t understand what you saw in him, and...” Bianca trails off.

“Look, I get it. Willam’s a dumbass sometimes,” Alaska says with a chuckle. “But...he’s a good person. And he just wants to help, if he can. We both do.”

“Thank you, Alaska. Really, I...thank you.”

“Anytime. Take care, B.”

***

“...and so, obviously I’m glad he’s listening, but...I don’t know, it’s a little weird that he’s gone so...radio silent, you know? It makes me a little...anxious. I guess. Especially after what Alaska said.” Bianca hugs the pillow in her lap.

“That’s understandable,” Bob says. “Can I ask you a question?”

“I thought that’s what I was paying you for,” Bianca says, eyebrow arching up.  

Bob laughs. “That was rhetorical, but thanks for keeping me in line.”

“What’s your question?”

“Do you miss him?”

Bianca is a bit taken aback. They’ve spent the last month discussing how horrible her marriage was. She still has to choke back vomit every time she says the word ‘abuse.’ Does she miss him? Is Bob crazy?

“It’s very common,” Bob explained, seeing the confused and slightly horrified look on her face. “A lot of women have trouble adjusting to life outside of that dynamic. They convince themselves that it wasn’t that bad. Many even go back. Does any of that sound...familiar?”

Just outside the window, a pair of fluffy white clouds float lazily in the air. They’re so white and perfect, they look like a cartoon. Bianca watches them, listens to the birds chirping and the not too distant sound of kids splashing in a pool...a lawnmower. She turns back to Bob, shaking her head.

“No. Not...not at all.”

“Okay.” Bob makes a note on her pad, and Bianca grows a little antsy in her seat.

“Is that weird? I feel like...sometimes it feels like it wasn’t even real. Like...how was that over 10 years of my life? Because...I barely remember it now, unless I really concentrate. And even then…”

“It’s not weird. It’s just another way of coping.”

“Right now I’m having a hard time even...picturing his face clearly. I...definitely don’t want to go back. The idea of being in the same room together is…” Bianca swallows.

“But you’re having a child together.”

Bianca closes her eyes. “Yeah. He still...doesn’t know about that.”

“Does that worry you?”

“Um...I don’t...yeah, a little. But I think that he’ll...he might be a decent father. He really wants to be, so…” Bianca dabs at the corner of her eyes. “Asia said that we can ask for a therapeutic mediator, so that we can work out all our bullshit on our own.”

“You’ll have to be in the same room for that.”

“I know.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Nervous. But...I just keep telling myself that all of this is for the baby. So...it’s worth it. I can do it.”

“Of course you can,” Bob nods, giving her an encouraging smile.

“Do you think...will it ever be easy? Will I ever be able to face him without...feeling sick?”

Bob tilts her head, pausing thoughtfully before responding.

“If you really work at it, anything is possible.”

“Wow. Way to not commit to an answer, Bob,” Bianca says, getting a spirited laugh in return.

“That might be a good place to end for today,” she says, gesturing to the clock. “I’ll work on a more committed answer.”

“Yeah, do that.” Bianca’s dimples pierce her cheeks as she rises from the couch.

“See you next week?” Bob gets up from her chair and follows her to the door.

“Yeah,” Bianca says, then adds a soft, “Thanks.”

Bob smiles, reaching for the door, pausing when Bianca misunderstands the action and gives her an awkward fist bump.

“Well, alright then,” Bob says kindly, as Bianca cringes. “See you soon.”

***

“So...what are we looking for?” Courtney asks.

Bianca stands in the middle of Third Street, eyes darting around the bustling shopping center. She’s aware that this is the last place that Courtney would normally go willingly--the bougiest part of Santa Monica, full of tourists and ladies who lunch and harried, put upon retail employees. But she’s determined to find something special for Latrice, something she can give her on the morning of her wedding. She feels like she’s really dropped the ball as far as Maids of Honor go, barely helping with anything at all.

“I...don’t know, exactly. I just want her to know that I…” Bianca’s eyes fill with those cursed hormonal tears.

“Alright. Maybe…we just wander?” Courtney smiles at her and puts a reassuring hand on the small of her back, guiding her towards a jewelry cart up the road. “That cart looks cute, let’s start there.”

It could be the late summer heat, but Bianca feels like her skin is nearly burning where Courtney’s touching her. Especially at the hem of her shirt, where one fingertip is in contact with Bianca’s skin. She tries to stand up straight, muscles flexing against Courtney’s hand, a feeling of indescribable loss when she takes it away. Which is almost immediately followed by euphoric joy moments later when Courtney grasps her hand and lets out a squeal of excitement.

“Omigod, B, look!” she cries, pulling her towards a shoe store window, where a tiny pair of glittery rainbow cowboy boots are on display. “Elle Macpherson Del Rio NEEDS those boots!”

Bianca laughs and follows her to the window, seeing her eyes lit up in the reflection.

“Very cute.”

“Sorry, I know this is like, an immediate deviation from your agenda, but...they are bloody fantastic. Right? Even if you didn’t want a baby it would be worth it to have one, just to get those.”

Bianca continues to chuckle, gripping Courtney’s hand tightly.

“So...I guess we’re hoping for a girl, then?”

“No, not necessarily.” Off Bianca’s raised eyebrow, she adds, “Well, why should girls have all the fun clothes?! Guy Pierce Del Rio can totally wear them too.”

“Hashtag equality?”

“Exactly.” Courtney flashes a dazzling grin and pulls her into the store. “Come on!”

Bianca continues to hold onto Courtney’s hand as she follows her into the store. It occurs to her that standing this way, fingers laced together, people will probably assume that they’re a couple. The thought fills her with nervous, fluttery excitement - the kind that she hasn’t felt for what seems like the longest time.

As Courtney chats casually with the sales clerk about the best size to buy, Bianca steps closer, wrapping her free hand around her arm and leaning a head on her shoulder. It might be slightly childish, but she wants no mistake in anyone’s mind.  

Mine.