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pastelwitchling · 3 years ago

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For Forever (2/2)

read on ao3

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When Max had walked into the sheriff’s station to find Michael behind a cell, Michael had fully expected the resigned sigh.

“Seriously?” he asked. “I thought you were done with this.”

“Long got in my way.”

Max faltered. “Michael, tell me you didn’t actually throw Forrest into a window.”

Michael’s eye twitched at the idea, and the corner of his lips tugged upward in a smirk. “No,” he said, and Max’s shoulders slumped. “No, but his cousin is just as much fun to toss over a pool table.”

Max leaned against a desk, his arms crossed. A moment of silence, then, “You want to talk about it?”

“I was having a drink and he bumped into me,” Michael shrugged a shoulder. “Not much to talk about.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Max said quietly.

Michael’s smirk turned smaller. He knew exactly what his brother meant. Didn’t mean he had to answer.

“You look worse than yesterday, did you see Alex or something?”

Michael’s heart gave a traitorous thump in his chest at the mere mention of Alex’s name. “Saw him. We chatted.”

Max looked concerned. “About what?”

“Why does it matter?”

Max leveled him with his dark eyes. “About what, Michael?”

Michael swallowed, and sniffed, looking away. It seemed different now, talking to Max. Ever since he’d almost lost him, he realized how badly he’d needed him. He was good at that; being the genius when it was too late for it to matter anymore.

“He ended things.”

Max’s brows pinched together. “I – I’m confused, doesn’t that happen a lot between you guys? Just go see him again and tell him –”

“No,” Michael said, more edge in his voice than he’d intended. He dialed it back. “No. He ended everything. Says he can’t trust me after Maria, says he knows he’s just my – my backup, and he’s fine with it! He’s happy, even! Relieved!Isn’t that great? Now there’s nothing holding him back from following Forrest to New York or Europe, or wherever gay emo poets go to be at one with the earth or whatever.”

Max said nothing for a moment. Then, “So he’s just done.”

Michael nodded once, a lump in his throat. “He’s just done.”

Max tilted his head. “Are you?”

“What?”

He stood. “Alex always fought like hell for you, even when you didn’t deserve it.”

“I get it, okay?” Michael said through grit teeth, his eyes burning. “I’m no good for him. He’s better off without me.”

“No,” Max said fiercely, coming up to the bars. “Not even close, brother. You broke Alex’s heart, you have to fix it. He’s done his fighting, now it’s your turn.”

Michael shook his head. “He doesn’t want me around.”

“He thinks he’s your second choice, right?” Max said. “That’s what he doesn’t want. Look –” he crouched down so that he and Michael, who was slumped against the bench, were on the same eye level. “You love him, don’t you?”

“More than anything,” Michael said without hesitation. Max chuckled, like the answer was obvious.

“Then show him,” he said. “Tell him every minute. Don’t let Forrest take him away from you.”

Michael swallowed, and tried for a light tone that he didn’t feel, “You’re saying I shouldthrow him out the window?”

Max sighed, raising a brow at him. “Did Wyatt Long even hit you?”

“Sure,” Michael grinned. “Rednecks really don’t like it when you imply they’re sleeping with their tractor buddies.”

Michael felt ridiculous. Max had bailed him out of his cell no more than two hours ago, and he was sure that this bordered on stalking and would land him back in one. He couldn’t help it.

He’d just barely gone back to his trailer to get a quick shower, and he’d gotten a text from Isobel. She must have spoken to Max, because the whole message had consisted of a single picture of Alex’s profile as he leaned against the counter at the Crashdown, clearly unaware his photo was being taken, and the words; This is your chance, he’s alone.

Michael had never driven so dangerously. He’d parked in front of the diner, and paused. He thought he’d imagined it in the picture Isobel had sent, but it had been clear to him, even through the glass, that Alex was tired.

He was leaning too heavily on his left leg, as if just touching the ground with his other side pained him. His fingers were rubbing into his thigh, and his smile was tight until he sat down, his eyes fluttering with no small amount of relief.

Michael couldn’t find it in him to go inside, watching Alex carefully from the outside, considering the way he seemed too tired to even eat. Michael wondered if he would be welcome to sit beside Alex now, to hold him and take care of him like he wanted to.

Then a hand tapped his shoulder, and he looked over his shoulder to find a very unimpressed Isobel.

“Are you kidding me?” she greeted. “He is ten feet away from you, just go up to him.”

Michael swatted at her peering over his shoulder like she was a fly. “You don’t get it,” he told her, returning his gaze to Alex. “Something’s wrong with him.”

She flicked his ear.

“Ow, Isobel!”

“Then go ask him!” she demanded. “Be his knight in shining armor!”

“I can’t just ask –”

“Would you have done it if it was DeLuca?” she said, and Michael felt as if she’d just shot him.

“That’s different,” he muttered, shaking his head. “That’s –”

“Yeah, I know,” Isobel rolled her eyes. “Lower stakes. Thing is, little brother –”

“We’re all the same age,” Michael said.

“—The higher the stakes, the more you have to risk,” she went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “Do you want him back or not?”

Michael clenched his jaw. “Don’t ask me that. You know what the answer is.”

Isobel’s eyes softened. “Then go get him. While you still have him alone. Or do you plan to wait until Forrest shows up and does your job?”

Michael swallowed and looked back at Alex. He had his cheek rested on his palm, his brows pinched as if uncomfortable. Michael tilted his hat down and exhaled slowly as he forced one foot in front of the other.

He didn’t check to see Isobel’s reaction as he opened the diner door and stood a moment, staring at Alex in his booth, seemingly completely inattentive to whoever had just walked in. When Michael sat down across from him, he realized why.

“Took you long enough,” Alex said first. “I thought you would spend the rest of the day watching me from behind your truck.”

Michael ducked his head, his tongue in his cheek. “So you knew. Of course you knew. There’s usually not much you don’t.”

Alex slumped further down in his seat, rubbing his eyes as his milkshake sat untouched. “Not today, Guerin, okay? I get it, you’re very macho, you don’t need anybody, good for you. I just can’t deal with it right now.”

Michael’s smirk turned pursed. Was this really what Alex thought he would say? Some line about how much better off he was now that they weren’t together? Had he expected Michael to give up on them this quickly? The thought almost broke Michael’s heart.

“Does it hurt?” he asked instead of all of that. “Your leg.”

“I’m fine,” he murmured.

Michael scoffed, his smirk bitter. “But you’ll tell Long, right?”

“Forrest is signing some papers at the hospital,” Alex said coldly, “because apparently, someone put Wyatt in a neck brace.”

“Damn,” Michael didn’t back down under Alex’s glare. “Was that all? I could’ve sworn I broke a rib or two.”

Alex leaned forward. “You didn’t have to start something with him, Guerin. I don’t like Wyatt Long any more than you do, but you walked into that fight.”

Michael huffed a hollow chuckle. “Yeah? That what you think?”

“No,” Alex said angrily, all pretense of indifference gone. “What I think is that you are just upset that you want something you can’t have. If I wasn’t with Forrest, the only injury his cousin would be suffering right now would be a hangover.”

“So you care this much about Wyatt Long?”

“I don’t give a crap about Wyatt, I care about you!” he snapped, and Michael fell silent, his smirk fallen away.

Some people had looked over, and Alex ran a trembling hand through his hair. When he spoke again, his words were quiet, all the frustration and fury and fear evident in the way even his voice shook. “You were so pissed off that I wanted someone else that you went and picked a fight with the town nutjob!” He shook his head. “Is that what it’ll take to keep you safe now? Stay with you until you get tired of me?”

Michael flinched. “Don’t – don’t say that –”

“Why not?” he demanded. “It’s the truth, isn’t it? You only want me around when I keep my mouth shut, when nothing is serious. As soon as I try to get close to you, you go running off to someone else. That’s what you want to force me into?”

“You love me,” Michael said, finding his voice. “If I never know anything else, I’ll always know that. You love me, Alex, and I love you, and we’re supposed to be together.”

“I already told you,” Alex said through grit teeth. “I don’t believe a word you say.”

He pushed himself up and out of the booth. Michael’s hands curled to fists, and Alex got as far as the counter before Michael was out of his seat.

He turned Alex around by the arm and pinned him against the counter, startling both Alex and a waitress.

“You’re mine,” he growled. “You’ve always been mine.” He raised a hand, gently tracing Alex’s jaw with his fingers, following raptly with his eyes. Alex’s weight, Michael made sure, wasn’t on his bad leg.

“Ever since we were seventeen,” he murmured. “In the decade that came after that. And in the next decade, and the next one, you’re mine, Alex. So you want to date Forrest Long? Go right ahead. Because I’m coming back for you, Private, and I’m going to spend every waking second making up for my stupid mistake. I can’t be you. I can’t be the knight in shining armor you were. I can’t pretend I’m not so in love with you that it feels like it’ll kill me, and I’m sorry I can’t do it, baby. I wish I was as strong as you, but I’m not.”

Alex searched Michael’s face with wide, glassy eyes. “I –”

Michael leaned in, doing what he’d needed to do since the gala, and pressed his nose to Alex’s soft hair, breathing him in. When he spoke, his lips brushed the shell of Alex’s ear, eliciting a soft gasp that had Michael tightening his grip on Alex’s waist until there was no space between their bodies at all.

“I love you, baby,” he breathed. “I’ll get you back, I promise.”

He leaned back, his heart feeling like it was racing a million miles a second as he cupped Alex’s jaw and brushed his cheek with his thumb. He pressed their foreheads together, and took one last deep breath that he knew would have to last him until the next time they saw each other.

“Go home,” Michael murmured into the space between their lips. “Take the prosthetic off and get some rest.”

He brushed away Alex’s tear and forced himself to let go. Without waiting for Alex’s reaction, Michael turned and left the Crashdown, well aware that there were a few eyes on him, but he couldn’t stop moving. He had to prove what Alex meant to him, what he’d always meant to him. He had work to do.

***

If you enjoyed reading even a little bit, please comment and share/reblog, it always makes the world of a difference 💕

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #malex fanfic #malex fanfiction #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex angst #malex fluff #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

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icariamusing · 4 years ago

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CHARACTER BASICS

FACECLAIM: Lauren Cohan

NAME: Victoria “Tori” Metaxas (birth name Victoria Thompson)

AGE: 35

BIRTHDAY: November 27, 1985

OCCUPATION: Employee at Gatzunis’ Growings (…for now)

HOMETOWN: Icaria, Greece

PETS: Ferret named Sue

POWERS

Tori can turn intangible- either at will or involuntary when under great stress. With additional effort, she can also use this phasing ability to stand on top of substances that normally should not be able to sustain her weight- like water or snow. She has not gotten the hang of walking on air, but it seems possible.

BIOGRAPHY

Victoria was born to a very young Lilith Thompson, and was the apple of her mother’s eye for all of five days before the woman realized she had absolutely no idea how to raise a baby. She certainly did not know what to do with a baby that escaped no matter how tightly the child was swaddled, and that she had definitely wanted a boy. Lilith would close her eyes for just a moment, and the baby would somehow be on the floor, smiling and apparently unharmed. It was a disturbing experience. Lilith managed to find some weird Greek person that seemed really excited to adopt a baby that ignored the laws of physics. And that was the last time that Lilith had any contact with that child, not even sparing a comment for which Greek island her child would be sent to live on. Was she forgotten or willfully failed to mention? Who was really to say? Certainly not Tori.

The little girl knew that she had come from Minnesota in the United States, and that her last name had been “Thompson” before she was adopted, but did not have much else to go on. Growing up feeling hurt and abandoned by her birth mother, Tori wholeheartedly embraced her adoptive family. Tori was never a particularly well-behaved child, but she very much loved living on Icaria. With her powers as obvious as they were (and her new mom a demigod herself), it was never a secret to Tori what she was. When she was four, Hermes revealed himself to her. He was not particularly fatherly, but he at least seemed to care that she existed. Mostly he popped by to give moderately persuasive pep talks to do something with herself and to remind her not to be a jerk if any of Hermes’ other kids showed up. The implication that she would be rude to her siblings struck Tori as odd, but she did not think too hard about it. It was not that hard to be there for Phoebe when she showed up, and to extend the gesture to the subsequent siblings that she met; Tori ended up caring for her own sake rather than her dad’s. Never did she feel like a particularly good influence, but hey, she was trying, right?

For whatever reason, Tori could not hold down a job to save her life. The longest job that she ever managed to maintain was babysitting, but that only lasted while she was a kid anyway. If the parents had known the kind of off-the-wall mistakes that Tori was making babysitting, she would have lost those gigs too. As an adult, she never lasted more than six months in any given job. The customers usually liked her, and she was actually good at most jobs. The trouble was her excessive unreliability (9 AM start time? She’ll be in at 10:03 on the dot) and tendency to accidentally take anything that was not nailed down. Her approach to work was never malicious, but she was starting to run out of job opportunities as she inched her way through her thirties.

Tori’s outlook on life began to change after Finley and Wyatt Thompson moved to Icaria. Tori had never seriously entertained the possibility that her birth mother might have had other children. And even when she did wonder, she had not expected that they would all have different fathers. Was this a joke? She observed from a safe distance, baffled that any mother would allow this situation to happen without warning somebody. It was clear to Tori that everyone knew Finn as the oldest of the Thompson children. That nobody had a reason to know to care was the only thing that made their presence okay. She was not their sister in the way that mattered, and was not sure that she wanted to be. Things got marginally worse from a mental wellbeing point of view when Noel popped in, reminding Tori that she had three entire siblings that had gone their whole lives not knowing anything about her.

And then Mira showed up. Mira was the straw that really broke the camel’s back. It was not Mira’s fault for existing, and Tori only picked up details second or thirdhand, but it seemed like none of the Thompson kids would have known that Mira would have existed if it had not been necessary. And somehow, that level of necessary did not extend to Tori and she would have to be some weird secret unless she said something. Tori would call herself ‘easygoing’ and ‘go with the flow,’ but everything about the Thompsons now made her furious. It would not have surprised her if five more relatives popped up out of blue that knew nothing about her. For such a laidback and chill person, something about the Thompsons (especially Mira) made her so angry. For the longest time, she could not figure out how to talk to them because she knew all she would do was become upset. It was all she could do not to blow up at Mira every time that woman was so much as mentioned.

LISA | SHE/HER | 28 | PST

#hermes

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helplessly-nonstop · 6 years ago

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Depression (B. Wyatt series)

Hey, it’s Cassie and I actually have a series for you this time! Description, would you be a doll and tel our lovely readers what they’ve stumbled upon!

Honey Bee, or the reader, is a poem blogger and they meet a depressed Abigail Wyatt. As time passes by, they grow closer. But an abusive relationship separates the two and on Honey Bee’s visit to Florida, they realize that it’s too little too late. It will be a three part series: Depression, Impression, and Succesion. Please enjoy and don’t repost to other sites. Because I will find you and I will end you. Cool? Cool. My beta was my favorite soulmate: @sporadic-fics! (Go read her stuff, I love it all)

WC:2454 (the next two parts will ((more than likely)) be longer)

Warnings: depictions of an abusive relationship, mentions of murder, thoughts of suicide, Klandy Borton is a garbage human, character death, mentions of child abuse, anyway, here we go! (GIF was found on Google)

I was a social butterfly on all counts and one person had confided in me when I had posted a poem about suicide on my blog. Her name was Abigail Wyatt and she admitted that she wasn’t having the best life that she could be living. She and her two brothers lost their parents when they were young and unfortunately was pushed into the foster system.

Years had passed and there was multiple families that neglected and abused them, until finally, the oldest brother turned eighteen and they were taken from foster care under his watch. I took her under my wing, even though we had never met in person, but from there, we traded war stories. I explained where I got my inspiration to write and she told me all about her brothers: Bo and Bray.

Bo was apparently very outgoing and she confided in me that she believed that he was gay, which made me giggle a little. When she asked me why I laughed, I informed her that in sets of three siblings, there’s usually at least one that is a member of the LGBTQ+ community. She laughed with me for a while then continued telling me about her family.

Bray was the quietest of the three, with an aura of danger surrounding him, and she stated that she was often worried about what he might do if he had to protect his siblings from serious harm. I assured her that she should have nothing to worry about, but to be honest, there was no way of being sure.

But things went from good to bad for Abigail after a while. She had met a man by the name of Randy Orton and she told me that she had loved him like she had never loved anyone before.

“Abigail, are you sure that you truly know what kind of person this guy is? I just don’t want you getting hurt, that’s all.” I stated, bumping my apartment door shut with my hip. My hands were full with groceries while my phone was squished between my shoulder and cheek, something that was definitely uncomfortable. When I realized that I didn’t get it closed all the way, I raised my foot and kicked it in to its place.

“Oh, Honey Bee, I couldn’t be more sure! He’s so sweet and considerate, never late to pick me up! He works at the police station here in town!”she informed me, a small, dreamy sigh leaving her throat. I gave a laugh and set my bags on the ground before kicking my shoes off my feet.

“All right, as long as you know you’re safe with him. I’m going to get off of here and make some dinner.Tell Bo that I said hello!”

“Oh don’t lie to me, Honey Bee, you’re going to order in Panda Express for dinner cause you don’t want to cook.”she scolded but her soft giggle assured me that she wasn’t truly shaming me. I gave a grin then ended the call, beginning to put my food away in the sections that it belongs to. I laid on my couch for a few moments and stared at the ceiling before I decided that I was going to succumb to my ridiculous addiction to Chinese takeout.

Forty five minutes passed and finally, my food arrived, allowing me to retreat into my room properly. A small chirp through my phone drew me away from my bingeing of Brooklyn Nine Nine and I rolled away to check who texted me and raised an eyebrow when I realized that it wasn’t just any number: it was Abigail: Leave her alone or I swear to God, you’ll fucking die.

I jerked up out of bed and stared at the screen, unsure of how to react to this message. Apparently Abby hasn’t told her boyfriend that her closest friend just happened to be a person halfway across the country. I paced the length of my room and finally paused, deciding that I would call her in the morning. She was obviously with Randy tonight and I didn’t want to risk her getting hurt because I want to discuss her possibly dangerous boyfriend.

I set my half eaten sweet and sour chicken in the fridge and returned to my bed, staring at my clock, hoping that I could fix whatever Abigail had gotten herself into with this guy before it was too late.

With a quick roll to the right, I hit the floor with a groan, looking through the window to see that it was now daylight and snowing. Fantastic.

I pulled myself back to my feet and checked my phone to see if I had received any new messages that I should’ve been worried about. Luckily, there was just one and it really was from Abby this time. I swiped upwards then pressed in my thumbprint before reading what she sent me,”Hey, sorry about that last text! Randy can get a bit jealous. Don’t worry, tho, explained it all!”

I hesitated on what I should say, my thumbs hovering over the text keys, then I decided that I needed to see her face when I asked her these questions that had been brewing in my head all night. I guess worrying about the possibility that your friend’s boyfriend is a psycho really doesn’t let you sleep at night.

“You home alone?” I sent back in return, hoping that she’d give me the okay to FaceTime her. A few seconds skimmed by then she answered, ”Yeah, Randy left for work early today.”

A small sigh left me, my shoulders dropping in relief, then I pressed the button to go ahead and call. It rang three times and she finally picked up on the fourth one, her face slowly coming into focus. But that’s when I noticed it.

“Oh my God, Abigail, do you have a black eye?!” I demanded, leaning forward for a better look. She brushed a timid hand over her injury and reassured me, ”It’s fine, I hit the door knob cause I slipped. No big deal, I promise.”

“Abigail, I don’t think you really know this guy. I mean, he threatened to kill me and he doesn’t even know me!” Her eyes flashed with uncertainty and I began to say something else when she rushed out,”It’s fine, I fixed it! He’s gonna change, I swear it, Honey Bee! It’s fine, now, please, can we just talk about something else?”

And stupid, idiotic me being me, I allowed her to change the subject. But things didn’t become fine and Randy most certainly didn’t change.

Months passed and I began hearing from my friend less and less frequently, something that was uncommon for her. Eventually, time for my semi annual visit down to Florida had arrived and before I knew it, I was getting settled in my usual little hotel that I stayed in. I decided to FaceTime her to make sure that she was at home, since it was Thursday and she didn’t work today.

Her phone rang four times and for a moment, I thought she was going to let me go to voicemail, when she finally picked up. A gasp escaped me at her appearance and I stared at her with my mouth agape, unsure on what to say.

Her cheek was swollen, her black eye barely concealed, and her bottom lip was busted. But really frightened me was the bruises maring her throat. It was obvious that she was at her house, but there had been drastic changes made.

“Abigail, what happened?” I murmured, pressing my hand to my mouth, as if it could stop the tears brewing in my eyes. She began to give an excuse when someone snatched away the phone, shouting,”Fuck off, it’s none of your fucking business!” And with that, the screen went dark. I stared at my phone for a few moments then finally, I acted on what I knew needed to be done. I called the emergency number for Brooksville, Florida, desperate to send help for my friend.

“Hello, 911, is everything alright?”

“No! No, I think my friend is in danger. I called her and she looks like her boyfriend is beating her! When I asked what happened, he took her phone and smashed it. Please, could you send someone out to check on her?” I rushed out as calmly as I could manage. The man on the other end paused for a quick second and I thought that he might’ve hung up on me then he asked,”Do you know what the address is?”

I began tossing items from my purse then finally dragged my planner out, flipping to all of the addresses I had written down and thankfully, I had Abigail’s. I recited it back to the operator and I could hear him clicking on the keyboard before he answered,”Okay, we are sending in a patrol car now to check on your friend. Do you know what the boyfriend’s name is?”

I began telling him it then paused, remembering one of the few details that Abigail provided me about this dick fuck: he worked at the police department. Cops had a history of hiding domestic abuse cases like this when one of their own was the abuser and I was not about to let Abigail be let down by a corrupt system.

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t. I hope that’s okay.” I apologized, fake sympathy leaking into my voice.

“It’s alright, not a problem. Alright, it sounds like the patrol car is there now. Would you like to stay on the line with me, see if your friend is okay right away?”

“Yes, please, you could.” Silence hit the line and I waited with bated breath to hear what was going on then I heard words that I never wanted to hear.

“Shots fired, shots fired! One officer down, suspect is deceased, victim is critical. We need a bus!” Faint shouting rose through the phone and I ended the call quickly, unsure of what to do. My hands fidgeted, tossing my phone back and forth, then finally, decided to go digging through our past conversations in search of her brother’s number. I knew I should’ve saved it when she first sent it to me.

Two hours passed and I was barely a month through our texts when my phone began ringing with the caller ID as someone from Brooksville, Florida. I quickly picked up then asked,”Hello?”

“Hi, I’m lookin’ for a person by the name of Hunny Bee?”a man questioned, his voice something of a phone sex operator. He had somewhat of an accent and I realized that I knew that drawl. It was Bray, Abigail’s oldest brother. He somehow got my number and was calling me, hopefully with intentions of delivering good news.

“This is them. Is Abigail alright?” I asked, nibbling on my nails. A small sigh escaped his mouth then he stated,”I think you need to meet us down at the hospital, sweetheart.” I paused at his statement then began nodding as I agreed,”Of course, I’ll grab a cab and be there in ten.”

I snatched my bag from the bed and darted out the door, already ending the call with Bray and dialing for an Uber.

I rushed into the hospital and slammed my hands on the desk, rushing out,”I’m looking for Abigail Wyatt.” The man running the desk looked upwards and said with a monotone, ”Can’t if you’re not family.”

“I’m her sister in law and I suggest if you don’t want her brother in your face, you need to fucking tell me what room they’re in.” I snapped, cracking my knuckles. He rolled his eyes and clicked a few tabs on the keyboard before informing me where they were.

I rushed upstairs and began scanning the room numbers for Abigail’s when I heard someone call my name. I turned on my heel and watched as Bo came into view.

“Bo! Have you heard anything yet?” I rushed out after he crushed me into a hug. He pulled away and I watched his face crumble, giving away exactly what fate my dearest friend had met. Another man stepped beside us and I immediately connected who it was: Bray, the oldest of the Wyatt siblings.

“By the time that the police had arrived, it appears that Randall shot her. They warned him to lower his weapon but instead, he fired at the cops who in return, shot him. I’m very sorry, but Abigail has passed.”he informed me and for a second, the briefest of moments, there was silence, then my mind shattered.

“No! She- she can’t be gone, oh my god, how could I let this happen,I should’ve known, I should have pushed her to get help.” I sobbed, my knees buckling from underneath me. Bray caught me by my arms and lowered me to the ground, allowing me to continue my breakdown. He petted my hair and informed me,”Abigail knew the risks. You did everything you could do, it’s not your fault that she didn’t heed the warnings you were giving to her.”

“But-but I could’ve helped her more, could’ve convinced her to break it off with him.”

“Sweetheart, even if she would’ve tried, I imagine that the same result would’ve came along. This will not fall on your delicate shoulders.” Bray assured me, bringing me to my feet. I let out a sniffle and he offered,”Let me take you back to the house, you can rest there. Bo and I have some… arrangements to take care of.” My mind filled in his pause and I gave a stiff nod, muttering,”All my stuff is back at my hotel though.” He rubbed a calloused thumb over my cheek and said,”If you give me your key, I will retrieve your items and bring it back. I don’t think you need to be alone right now.”

“I-I don’t know why I’m not comforting you… you’re the one who lost his sister.” I murmured, lifting my head. He gave a stiff smile and replied,”Indeed I did.. but you gave her life. After she met you, she was like a beacon for us. You blessed her with light when darkness was being to consume her very being. Thank you… for everything that you did for Abigail.” I nodded then he dropped Bo and I at the house to settle in while he went to go get my items from my hotel room. It was going to take a while for me to fully come to terms about what the hell had taken place over the last couple weeks.

#bray wyatt #bray wyatt series #bray wyatt imagines #bray wyatt angst #bray wyatt smut #in later chapters though #wwe imagines #bray wyatt writing #wwe writing #wwe angst #wwe stuff #wwe fluff #wwe smut #wwe #bo dallas #bo wyatt #abigail wyatt #sister abigail #honey bee

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qqueenofhades · 7 years ago

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So...let’s talk some more about this Wyatt vs. Flynn dynamic re: their treatment of Lucy. Because I have Thoughts (as you know) and I know YOU have Thoughts.

Woooooooooowww hoo yep do I have a lot of Thoughts.

(Disclaimer: Probably don’t read this if you’re a diehard Wyatt/and/or Wyatt and Lucy fan. Because I don’t hate him – I’m still invested in him and I love the idea of him and Jessica and what’s possible for that to go and him fixing his screwups. But we also have a full season of canon text to analyze and well. I’m gonna analyze it. And honestly he…. has a long way to go.)

First, as I said in the other ask, we’re all well aware how much Flynn fucked it up with Lucy in season 1. Repeatedly and face-palmingly and over and over, to the point that him getting a 1 in the Garbage Date Manifesto instead of a zero (or a negative eleventy billion) was an improvement. But here’s the thing: Flynn and Lucy were enemies. Or at least they were sorta-not-quite-enemies but still fighting each other despite his soft spot for her. The point is, they were nowhere near a relationship of any sort, and if they’d actually had Garcy be any more than a connection/understanding/gentle gaze here and there, we’d probably have judged them. Because that’s not a relationship we’d think Lucy should get into, and indeed, she doesn’t. She stops being scared of Flynn in 1x02. She calls him on his bullshit from then on out, repeatedly, and even when there’s the obvious thought that this scary murder machine could hurt or kill her if she does. She straight up challenges him to kill her for not helping him in 1x11 because she knows he won’t. When she sees him again in 1x14 post-all this, her reaction is to… order him to order his minion to let go of her (AND HE DOES). There is no filter or fear in her reactions to Flynn. She calls him straight out, and he apparently loves it when she does. (And again: THEY’RE STILL ON OPPOSITE SIDES. They’re not in any sort of relationship.) She has the strength and confidence to tell him exactly how she feels at any given time, which is usually that he’s being an ass. Which is also generally correct.

When Flynn comes to the bunker in s2 (after holding a grudge against Lucy for all of five seconds), that’s post-1x16 and “what if God led you to me” and things start changing for them. Flynn walks into the bunker in 2x03 literally seconds before Wyatt runs out of it to see Jessica. THEY PHYSICALLY CHANGE PLACES IN LUCY’S LIFE. And that’s… exactly what proceeds to happen?

Starting in 2x04, Wyatt chooses Jessica, doubles down on that choice, and while perhaps not wanting to, starts to and then continues hurting Lucy, mostly emotionally but in 2x10, physically as well. He is possessive of her while also having brought his wife back to the team’s shared home, having loud sex with her, and apparently thinking he’s entitled to a special relationship with both her and Lucy. (Rufus calls him directly out for forgetting about everyone else in the bunker in 2x10, which praise. Yep.) He slut-shames Lucy (twice!) for thinking she might have slept with Flynn in 2x07, and keeps barbing at her for it at every opportunity (”you and Flynn, huh” in 2x09, even after throwing a fit getting Denise to keep Jessica safe back at home/heard they have a baby on the way.) He generally acts insecure and throws his weight around (”stay away from her” in the 2x07 scene with Flynn) in a way that is… pretty unattractive. Sure, he has a few nice lines in there/tells her that she’s Lucy Preston and that’s pretty good, but he’s just so unpleasant in 2x07, and… still doesn’t get around to apologizing for it. By the time he’s begged Jessica to come back with him in 2x10 and told her they’re family and promised to fight for her, he finally gets home and then… tells Lucy that he loves her? Which he frames as doing what Rufus wanted, but yet again, he’s boomeranging back to her/immediately trying to cling to her after having lost Jessica, and keeping her in his back pocket as his second choice, yet again. And that is… mmmmmm.

Meanwhile, the narrative is insisting to us that Lucy and Wyatt love each other (or at least other characters keep SAYING it, almost as if we wouldn’t be able to tell otherwise) and we’re supposed to be rooting for reconciliation. This is totally different from when Flynn and Lucy are adversaries in s1; there was no expectation that the behaviour would necessarily be any different. They were treating each other as people on opposite sides of the fight (and aside from throwing her onto a couch in 1x02, which – obviously, bad, but not the LEAST of what he would have done to Wyatt in that situation – Flynn has never hurt her EVEN WHEN THEY WERE OUTRIGHT ENEMIES.) Instead, the implicit message of the narrative is that Wyatt’s bad behaviour is all right or understandable or whatever else because “he loves her!” Apparently. Wyatt even has the excuse of being in a relationship (or at least a brief one) with Lucy, we’re supposed to buy that this the man we want her back with, and…

While this is going on, Lucy is biting her tongue. She’s swallowing back her feelings. She’s sacrificing her emotional availability for Wyatt’s needs, over and over, while he notably does not return the favor. Even when she and Flynn were ENEMIES, she was fearless in telling him what she thinks – she can’t even do that with Wyatt when they’re LOVERS? (Or ex-lovers.) Their entire relationship becomes Wyatt doing what he wants or needs or thinks he should, and Lucy silently swallowing her pain and letting him do it, and this being framed as a noble sacrifice on her part. (Which it is, but… very one-sided since he doesn’t return the favor.) She walks on eggshells around him and only in 2x07 gets to tell him what she really thinks about the situation (and he still doesn’t seem to get it). There’s just… not a lot of equal ground there, and it becomes painful and frustrating to watch as a Lucy stan. We can’t understand why, even for the sake of a deep connection, she’s giving him SO MANY CHANCES. She cares for him a lot and they need each other; I’m not disputing that. But after 2x03, he pretty much vanishes from her life as an equal and reciprocal emotional support, and that place is taken – often in very obvious ways – by Flynn.

Because starting with 2x04 and the first mission they go on, Flynn is all in on his new role/relation to Lucy. She asks if she can trust him in 2x04, he nods, and that’s it. He doesn’t look back. He fucks up a dude when she gives him a look, he goes crazy getting a gun to save her (and the others, but lbr it’s mostly about her). Comforts her and tells her she’s nothing like her mom in the Lifeboat scene/does her seatbelt. Then when they arrive into the Wyatt/Jessica situation of awkwardness, Flynn takes Lucy’s arm and physically shields her from Wyatt (while glaring at him) and gets her out of it. Again. They were technically still enemies, or at least very wary allies, in 2x03, but she told him they needed him more and bam. That’s it now. Off he goes.

In 2x05, after Lucy’s frazzling day with Wyatt and Jessica, Flynn goes over after his own bad day and supports her. In 2x06, obviously, it’s beautiful and we’re all dead and he’s both tender and protective of her and owns up to his failures in the past and gives her THE CHOICE ABOUT A FUTURE RELATIONSHIP. He knows he’s fucked up badly and she would be justified in like “nope I don’t want anything else.” But she takes a chance (even after how Wyatt has hurt her) and opens up to him and he does the same. They get back and they’re incredibly happy and then Wyatt turns up, trying the “you keep Flynn on a leash?” line trying to once more get sympathy and commiseration from Lucy. But she rebukes him (gently but plainly) and defends Flynn. And of course goes to his room that night because that’s just how safe she feels with him now???

In 2x07 she’s incredibly comfortable with him, and he’s been gazing at her with heart eyes, and then defending her right to make her choices to Wyatt. AND ALL THIS TIME, FLYNN HAS BEEN EXPECTING NOTHING FROM HER. He has never once acted like he has any claim over her or that she owes him anything for the attention and care and support he’s been giving her. Never. Once. Doesn’t reciprocate the jealous boyfriend act on Wyatt. Keeps the focus on Lucy and her choices. Doesn’t make it about his feelings for Wyatt; he hates the dude, but he constantly keeps stepping away to let Lucy talk to him if that’s what she wants. (While Wyatt can’t stop bitching about Flynn and judging Lucy for her choice to get close to him.) Flynn never ONCE lets his feelings for Wyatt get in the way of that possibly being what Lucy wants. (As he says in 2x10, he… probably still does want to kill Wyatt in some way, even if he’s full of hot air and wouldn’t do it.) He is so careful of her feelings and her choices that he can’t tell her she’s beautiful in 2x08, when she asks him about the journal (and see all my metas about how she went to him from a place of HOPE and not anger). He doesn’t get around to telling her that he loves her in 2x10 and would probably have avoided it even if Wyatt didn’t interrupt them. He sees them together at the end of 2x10 and assumes Lucy’s taking Wyatt back and you can see his heart break, but he doesn’t get in the way. Again. Never once acting like she has any expectation to treat him in a certain way or let him in, and is just determined to give her everything he possibly can to make sure she doesn’t regret it.

As I’ve said many times, I’ve dragged Flynn over the coals A LOT. But the instant he was in any kind of relationship with Lucy (however loosely defined), almost… all the garbage went away. He was loving, gentle, attentive, supportive, careful, respectful, tender, protective, and sacrificial around her, and never once said or acted like she owed him anything for it, because he knows he has a long way to go and is fully willing to put in the work. While Wyatt, who we’re told over and over is in a relationship with/loves/cares for/whatever with Lucy, is the one acting like a giant bag of dicks, entitled, selfish, jealous, and immature. (Lucy tries to reach out to him in 2x09, he lashes out at her again, and then tries to help her get on the horse as she’s about to ride off with Flynn. Her “No, Wyatt, I’ve got it” becomes a little pointed in that situation, one thinks.)

And of course. I don’t even need to talk about 2x10. (Though I probably will.) Flynn was the person that Lucy talked to about her mother’s death and her disbelief that Carol’s biggest regret was not raising her Rittenhouse from the start. Flynn was the person to see Dark Lucy and to literally pull her out of it and hold her through the worst moment of her life. Wyatt was available to take that moment, but he didn’t. If they wanted Wyatt to be the one to do it, they would have set up the story in a way that enabled it, but nope. When Lucy finally, comprehensively breaks down after all the shit she has been through and the people she has lost this season, she breaks down in Flynn’s arms. He is the one to comfort her without words (also Goran can fight me in an alley for the “unspoken” thing, because LITERALLY!) Then we focus on Flynn’s face back at the bunker, watching Wyatt and Lucy talk, as much as the scene itself, and see his pain. That is… a weird thing to include if it was just about W/L.

I started the season being 100% certain that for better or worse, Wyatt/Lucy would be endgame. I’m now like…90% certain, maybe less, because it sounds like they’re at least open to the possibility of discussing that her relationship with Flynn turns romantic (JFC, Shawn Ryan gave “romantic” and “deeper than romantic” as options!!!! Abigail said Lucy HAS FEELINGS for Flynn and doesn’t trust Wyatt!!!) If this was any other show, I would be 101% certain that Lucy and Flynn were endgame, because this entire season has been one big anti-parallel between him and Wyatt, and almost entirely to Flynn’s benefit/redemption. And I love him to bits, but I can tell you, I wasn’t expecting that.

So. Yeeeeahhh.

#wyatt critical #lucy x flynn #garcy #timeless meta #god damn #this is so long #extasiswings #ask

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icariahq · 4 years ago

Text

Thanks for applying Lisa! We look forward to seeing Victoria around the island. Make sure to send your blog in within the next 24 hours or reach out to us if you need an extension. Lauren Cohan is now taken!

( LAUREN COHAN, CIS FEMALE, SHE/HER ) ⌇ have you seen VICTORIA “TORI” METAXAS around icaria? they are the THIRTY-FIVE year old child of HERMES. they remind me of CANDY WRAPPERS ON THE FLOOR, A PATCHWORK RESUME, and AN AWKWARD THUMBS UP. They’ve been on the island for 35 YEARS.

Expand

OOC info:

LISA / SHE&HER | 28 | PACIFIC

Hi! I’m Lisa! I wasn’t supposed to make another character but then I did anyway.

ROLEPLAYING EXPERIENCE

ya girl has been roleplaying since she was like 11 and on tumblr since she was 19.

TRIGGERS

Added to the triggers page!

IC info:

WHO ARE YOU BRINGING TO THE ISLE?

FACECLAIM: Lauren Cohan

NAME: Victoria “Tori” Metaxas (birth name Victoria Thompson)

AGE: 35

BIRTHDAY: November 27, 1985

OCCUPATION: Employee at Gatzunis’ Growings (…for now)

HOMETOWN: Icaria, Greece

PETS: Ferret named Sue

POWERS:

BIOGRAPHY:

ANYTHING ELSE:

#icaria: accepted #submission

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yakumtsaki · 7 years ago

Photo

Take your hands off me, I don't belong to you, you see, and take a look at my face for the last time, I never knew you, you never knew me, say hello.. ♪

WAVE GOODBYE.

WHADDUP PPL. Much like Ronroneo, we’re back from the dead and ready for a whole new generation of Union fuckery. We’re also officially.. drumroll.. MIDDLE CLASS. Our shiny new house is based on this one by frottana-sims, which I downloaded but dumbassly forgot to install, and since loading the game takes a hot half-hour I opted for this poor recreation instead. We start the extreme home makeover with an incredible budget of..

...Yea, I see the value of getting 6 pets to the top of their careers now. Included in this insane sum is the 20k+ that Wyatt and Jojo brought with them moving in, and at first I’m worried that we’re way too rich for only generation 2. Well, careful what you wish for, cause here’s our post-remodeling budget:

LMAO. It’s as if not a day has passed since Vic started this legacy with a dream in her heart and crap to her name. Let’s check out the new digs!

Everything was purple.. his pills.. his hands.. his foyer.

As eagle-eyed readers may observe, both the hall and the living room were designed with nothing else in mind but whether they matched our cat paintings. Per legacy rules I use as little cc as possible, which isn’t that hard since I feel this bizarre, angular and hugely impractical couch really encapsulates Jojo’s essence. Like if he was a servant in Beauty and the Beast this would be his furniture form.

Apparently the only things I deemed important enough to capture were the cat portraits, so it looks like my Komeization is finally complete! Here’s some floorplan shots tho so you don’t get disoriented in our labyrinth-like mansion. Please note our amazing pink-blue-purple kitchen! Barbie’s Dreamhouse who??

And here’s the second floor, which also illustrates the exact point I ran out of money. Honestly looking back I don’t understand how the fuck this place cost 70k?? Like nothing is particularly expensive except the amazing vintage batmobile which was around 30-40k and some of the paintings? But I guess all the small things add up in the end + I’m super bad with money..

..and I’m not the only one. Jojo GET A FUCKING GRIP and A JOB. Literally no comment @ your cat wants, you inherited the jaw, wasn’t that enough??? ANYWAY. I know the question on everyone’s mind is how is Wyatt going to fit in with the Unions.. and all I have to say about that..

..is LOL. Truly the perfect career for when your mother-in-law is a criminal mastermind and your husband is a serial killer! I mean the jokes practically write themselves. At least he doesn’t want 10 kids or any shit like that, cause I’ve seen hell and it was the result of mixing Jojo/Wyatt genes in cas.

On top of gifting us with his future-probably-fug children, Wyatt also gives us the gift of our first ever kitchen fire when he decides to make dinner with 1 cooking point. His generosity really knows no bounds.

It’s all fun and games now but Wyatt deadass almost died in the inferno and was about to take poor, stupid Komei with him, who of course ran to the fire even though he was in the yard. Meanwhile Victoria was safely watching tv and didn’t move while Jojo..

..was doing this in the next room. Two types of sims I guess!

-So Wyatt, you’ve been here for almost an hour now, burned down our kitchen and I still don’t see any grandchildren. I thought you were a family sim!

-Haha oh mom, you’re hilarious! Ignore her, Wyatt, let’s enjoy your delicious pasta.. It was definitely worth almost dying for.

-Your mama is right, mon cheri, not only do you have an obligatión to your famille but I rolled the want to have a bébé the second we graduated!

-Well it’s still gonna be there when we aren’t broke, Wyatt, god!

-But.. bébés, mon cheri! Tons of bébés I can have but never interact with, in typical famille sim fashión!

-UGH thanks a lot for opening this gate, mom. If only you had found your love of children when I was living on cat food.

-Well it’s different when they are your children, everyone knows that.

-THAT’S NOT WHY PEOPLE SAY THAT MOM

-Honestly, Jojό, I’m prouder of taking down your répugnant suitόrs than I am of graduating with honors!

-Aww Wyatt <3

-And if I have to souffrir through a childless existence to be with mon amour, so be it (:

-Aw- wait what?!

-Really, c’est bien, Jojό, marriage is all about compromise, nό? I mean, not that I would know since we’re not even married yet!

-Wyatt we’ve been here for 3 hours.

-My point précisément.. C’est bien though!

-Can’t believe I’m saying this but I really regret murdering Ti-Ning.

That makes two of us, Jo. Honestly even Francis would be better than this. Family sim spouse??? Tf was I thinking.

Ah, some things never change <3 It’s a new day and someone very special passes by our lot..

UGH NO not you asshole, once again delivering bills at the worst possible time.

-Miss me bitch?? Lolol

ONE OF THESE DAYS DAGMAR. ONE OF THESE DAYS ISTG

No, it’s mismatched beard townie, whose regular outfit is simply iconic, and he’s waving at me! What a sweetheart! TAKE SOME NOTES DAGMAR YOU FROZEN-FACED FREAK

-Umm he’s actually waving at me, moron.

-WRONG, he’s waving at me!

Ok it literally doesn’t matter who he’s waving at.

-Well c’est moi.

OK WHATEVER WYATT GOD. Just go off to work in a position you’re criminally unqualified for and try not to die ok??

-Why would I mourir?

Hm let’s see, maybe because you’re a ‘SWAT Team Leader’ straight out of college with a shocking lack of skill points?? Jfc college degrees in this game are so fucking op it’s legit making me resentful of my sims.

In other news, major dicks Sophie and Victor have started constantly beating each other up and the only thing surprising about this development is that it took this long. Honestly these fights are peak #TeamNoOne. Please note Alegra who continues to give 0 fucks @ the bloodshed. What a gal <3

Burning with religious fervor, fundamentalist nutjob Sophie emerges victorious!

-I WALK WITH GOD BITCH

Tears. Literal tears. Victor is the most unbelievable creature I have ever played.

-The rampant violence in this house is a violation of human rights! I AM OUTTA HERE

Literally still cannot believe this happened, like the sheer NERVE is killing me. Victor has started every fight he’s ever been in for an astounding total of 40-50 fights, and as you all know he almost always wins. Like this one was what? The fourth one he lost?? AND YET HE RUNS AWAY LIKE HE’S THE VICTIM I HATE/LOVE HIM SO MUCH

Meanwhile this happens which, of course. Leave it to me to finally get a chance card right for the only sim who doesn’t even deserve the job he currently has.

..Police Chief Wyatt reporting for duty! And crime increased 80% overnight.

In actual good and not lawsuit-waiting-to happen news, Wyatt brought Amanda, Vic’s only friend/lesbian crush with him! Amanda has the distinct honor of being literally the only non-Union non-Jojo person Vic has ever genuinely liked and hasn’t had an affair with. YET THAT IS.

Man, these are some fat fucking flies. I’m talking 10 plagues of Egypt teas.

-I KNOW, where the fuck is Komei, what are we paying him for?

-I’m over here honey, talking to my least favorite son for the second time in my life, since apparently he’s sticking around.

-Yes, thanks for requesting a recount of the heir vote, dad. I will remember it when I decide where to scatter your ashes.

-I TOLD YOU I WANT THEM MIXED WITH THE CAT LITTER

Ugh Komei, please stop trying to bond with your son and do something productive instead-

-like finally convincing Neo to bang Sophie. She has refused 3 TIMES because there’s a rule I have to earn kittens by suffering. I mean Alegra refusing to procreate with Victor made sense, it was Victor, wtf is Sophie’s excuse? Waiting for marriage?

ABOUT TIME

YAS. CAT GEN 3 ON THE WAY. Human gen 3 will have to wait till I’m in the mood to deal with screaming infants aka it might take a while.

The science career FINALLY SHOWS UP after 5 fucking days, jfc. Love how Wyatt’s dumb ass started as a swat team LEADER but Jojo who has half the skills maxed starts as a science teacher. Also love the idea of Jojo as a teacher in general, I mean just imagine having him teach you science in high school. I would literally drop out.

Jojo returns from work, brings this rando with him and doesn’t get promoted. We can’t all be Wyatt I guess! We’re not completely broke anymore tho so..

It is time.

Gunther, Melody and Max Flexor on one side..

Craig, Brit Brit, Ti-Ning and Daniel on the other. What a bunch of assholes, Craig obviously excluded. Remember him? I invited him because he and Jojo are still semi-friends thinking he wouldn’t show up and yet here he is! What a good guy.

-It’s at moments like this, watching your high school boyfriend get married.. that you really get to thinking..

Awww.

-..there but for the grace of god go I.

Less awww. You’re not wrong tho, definitely dodged a sociopathic bullet..

..not everyone is that lucky. WE GET IT WYATT YOU’RE CRAZY AND IN LOVE

-Mon bien adoré, I vow to aimer and honόr you and not cheat on you again or at least be more discrete about it <3

-And I vow not to kill you and feed you to the cats for as long as we both shall live <3

Ah, true love, you guys.

Too bad half our guests are inside dancing-

-OR HAVING COMPLETELY INAPPROPRIATE AND UNTIMELY THOUGHTS. TI-NING SERIOUSLY GO TO HELL. I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU WE WERE ALL ROOTING FOR YOU HOW DARE YOU

Well at least Vic is excited which is more than I can say for Gunther who is literally LOOKING THE OTHER WAY.

Time to cut the cake with the sky as our only witness, since everyone has taken a plate from the buffet and fucked off inside. Seriously WORST GUESTS EVER

Not one to be outdone by his guests’ questionable behavior, Wyatt takes the time to remind us who he really is.

-And n'est-ce pas forget it!

Despite all the obvious problems, like one of the grooms literally going to sleep, our party score is ‘good time’ which is a truly rare and exciting occurrence. With less than a minute left I’m feeling pretty confident that nothing can ruin this wedding!

Weirdly no one has touched the champagne even though sims in general are obsessed with it?? My best guess is everyone is at a loss for words at having to toast this union and who can blame them tbh. Thankfully Daniel steps up and I find it super sweet because I’ve forgotten that he and Wyatt are mortal enemies and it’s only by chance they haven’t beaten each other up on this instance like they have countless times before.

-Let’s all raise a glass to my beloved brother, Jojo, who generously woke up to attend his own wedding reception! Just one of many examples of his fine, giving character. Too bad he’s committing his life to a complete waste of space adulterous loser like Wyatt, who I’m not even convinced is really french, since his ability to speak and understand english fluctuates according to convenience. Man, I promised myself I wouldn’t cry, but this choice in spouse is just too tragic. Oh well! To Jojo!

NOICE, still a good time. SO CLOSE

AND YET SO FAR. Goddammit do you two mind killing each other on your own time and not literally 10 seconds before our wedding ends??

-DIE WHORE, THIS WILL TEACH YOU TO STEAL MY MAN

-THAT’S MY LINE SLUTBAG

-HA! ZUMBA, BITCH

-Wow, so glad I woke up for this, really got my bloodlust going!

Indeed a roaring success if there ever was one. I mean how can this night possibly get any better?

.............of course.

Oh nice, I remembered to install an alarm for once! I’m also desperately trying to wake up Wyatt thinking that he’s fucking CHIEF OF POLICE so he might prove useful in this situation..

..especially since we get this cop of a completely untrustworthy Bieber hairstyle. Talk about striking fear in the heart.

Sadly it turns out that Wyatt could not give less of a shit that we’re getting robbed and picks this moment to head for wedding buffet leftovers-

-while Bieber cop prevails! This robber is awesomely named Russ Bear btw and I wish that was my name, sounds like a slavic medieval folkore hero. But I digress. Please prepare yourselves because our first robbery is about to take a dark turn.

-Ehh, you get at a certain level on la force, you just become desensitized to la criminalité..

-Oh don’t worry Wyatt, I totally understand.. I mean I’ve robbed so many houses in my time, I hardly blink anymore..

-So it looks like you and I are not so different after all.. ;)

.............

.....................

............................why. why has the universe chosen me for the greatest suffering the world has ever known. i try and i try but incestuous relationships just keep sprawling like mythical strangler vines. i bet this wouldn’t happen to someone named Russ Bear. fml

#ts2 #gen 2

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avrilsky · 7 years ago

Note

15 (stop harming yourself like this) or 23 (you died!)

Thank you so much for these. They helped a lot with getting through writer’s block. As always you guys can send in prompts from this list (X) or one of your own. Anyways, hope you enjoy.

15. Stop harming yourself like this.

“You’ve got to stop harming yourself like this,” Nicole sighed opening up a first aid kit Waverly had become all too familiar with in the past couple of weeks.

They were in Nicole’s house, in her tiny first floor bathroom. Waverly was sitting on the sink counter and Nicole standing between her parted legs, rummaging through the first aid kit.

“I know,” Waverly whispered, looking down at the tiny scrapes and cuts along her thighs and legs.

She hadn’t meant to hurt herself, it kinda just happened.

“How did you even get these?” Nicole asked, apparently finding whatever she was looking for and setting it to the side.

“Running through the wood with Wynonna?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Nicole looked up at her, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised as she opened up the bottle of rubbing alcohol and poured some onto a cotton ball. “This might sting.”

“Tellin’ you,” Waverly hissed through clenched teeth when Nicole dabbed at one of the worse cuts just below her knee.

“Sorry baby, I’m sorry,” Nicole said softly leaning down and blowing lightly on the cut to ease the stinging.

It was a simple action, a small thing that Nicole did every time she bandaged her up and it never failed to warm Waverly’s heart, never failed to make her fall even more in love with Nicole.

Nicole set about cleaning the rest of Waverly’s cuts while Waverly told her about the Revenant her, Wynonna, and Doc chased through the woods.

Benjamin Smith had once been a farmer, one that had spent most of his time killing traveling ranch hands than actually farming.

Wyatt and Doc had put an end to his killings during a shootout in the winter of 1883.

They found him at the edge of the Ghost River Triangle after a five mile hike through the woods in the wrong type of shoes that had them tripping and stumbling every few feet, causing the tears in Waverly’s thin pants and the cuts on her legs.

Wynonna was quick to send him back to hell where he belonged and once they got back to town, they went their separate ways. Doc and Wynonna headed back to the homestead and Waverly came here, came to Nicole.

Nicole still wasn’t happy about being kept out of the fight after Dolls had deputized her, not that Waverly blamed her. Nicole wanted to be in the fight, wanted to protect them all and Waverly understood that but she wanted to keep Nicole safe. Both from Black Badge and Revenants.

At first it put a strain on their relationship but this here, her coming to Nicole after hunting down some Revenant and allowing Nicole to take care of her, of any injuries sustained during the fight while she recounted the night to Nicole, it kept that strain from tearing them apart.

It kept Nicole in the loop without putting her in danger, without Black Badge knowing she was involved in any way.

“All done,” Nicole said, standing up and kissing Waverly’s forehead before cleaning up the bloody cotton balls and bandaid wrappers.

Nicole moved back between her legs when she was done, tucking some hair behind Waverly’s ear and giving her a small smile.

She could see the worry swirling in Nicole’s soft brown eyes and she hated that she was the cause of it.

“I know hunting down Revenants is part of who you are and I’d never ask you to stop, never ask you to sit on the sidelines, but baby,” Nicole sighed and ran her fingers through her hair.

She reached out and cupped Waverly’s cheeks, her left thumb running along her bottom lip, smiling when Waverly kissed her thumb.

“Please be careful, Waverly. I can’t lose you.”

Waverly covered Nicole’s hand with her own, thumb brushing along Nicole’s knuckles. “I promise I’ll be careful. I’ll always come back to you, Nicole.”

Nicole nodded and leaned forward, kissing her softly.

23. You died!

“You died!”

Nicole looked up from the firearms magazine Sheriff Nedley left to keep her entertained to Waverly who stood outside her hospital room, one arm still in a sling and the other wrapped around her middle as if it was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

She sat the magazine to the side and motioned for Waverly to come in but Waverly didn’t move from the doorway. Waverly looked lost, broken, one second away from crying and Nicole ached to go to her, to wrap Waverly in her arms and hold her tight.

She couldn’t though, not with the nurse on her floor walking past her door every few minutes making sure she stayed in bed, per Nedley orders.

When Waverly didn’t say anything else, just stood there with tears forming in her beautiful hazel eyes, worry shot through Nicole. Worry for Waverly herself and for Wynonna, who for all Nicole knew was still out there somewhere or worse dead.

“Waves,” Nicole called softly, trying to get her attention. “Did they find Wynonna?”

Waverly finally looked at her and moved into the room, standing at the foot of the bed and picking at a loose thread on the thin blue blanket covering Nicole’s feet. “They found her, thanks to you.”

Waverly’s tone did little to ease Nicole’s worry.

“Is she okay?”

“Physically? Yes. Mentally?” Waverly shrugged, walking around the side of the bed and sitting in the chair Sheriff Nedley had occupied most of the day.

Nicole reached out with the hand wrapped in white gauze and brushed her thumb along the top of Waverly’s hand. “Are you okay?”

“You died,” Waverly whispered the words this time. The tears she had been holding back finally falling as a sob escaped her throat.

The sound of Waverly crying and watching her whole body shake with the force of her sobs cut at Nicole’s heart like a knife.

Nicole shoved the blanket off of her legs and with a groan slide to the edge of the bed. Nurse and Nedley be damned, Nicole was going to comfort the woman she had quickly and easily fell head over heels for.

“Waves,” Nicole said softly, holding her arms open for Waverly and Waverly was quick to move into her embrace. Nicole wrapped her arms around Waverly tightly, careful of the iv in her arm as she ran her hands up and down Waverly’s back.

“I’m okay, Waverly. I’m okay.”

Waverly shook her head and hot tears hit Nicole’s neck, sliding down her collarbone and soaking into the edge of her tank top.

“Yes, Waverly. I’m okay, I’m alive. See.” Nicole took one of Waverly’s hands and slip it between their bodies, placing it against her rapidly beating heart. “Feel that?”

Waverly pulled back enough to look up at Nicole and nodded, pressing her palm firmer against Nicole’s chest.

Nicole drew in a shaky breath. She had spent a countless number of nights imagining what Waverly’s touch would feel like but her imagination had nothing on the real thing.

“I almost lost you,” Waverly whispered, her eyes flicking down to Nicole’s lips then back up to her eyes. “I almost lost you and I never got the chance to tell you how I feel.”

Nicole swallowed hard and wondered if Waverly noticed the change in her heartbeat. “And how do you feel?”

Waverly’s eyes drifted down to her lips again and this time she leaned in. Nicole held her breath, stayed completely still, allowing Waverly to make the first move, allowing Waverly to be in control.

“Officer Haught, visiting hours are over.”

Waverly jumped back as if she had been burned, landing in the chair she previously occupied with a soft thud, her cheeks turning a bright shade of red.

“Waves,” Nicole said gently though she knew it was no use.

She could see Waverly’s walls being built back up around her and she knew that there was nothing she could say or do in that moment to stop it from happening.

“I should go.” Waverly stood avoiding Nicole’s eyes but surprising her by leaning in and kissing her cheek. “I’ll stop by and see you tomorrow.”

Nicole touched her cheek where the feel of Waverly’s lips were burned into her skin. “I can’t wait.”

#my writing #wayhaught fanfic #nicole haught #waverly earp #avidreaderffn

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cryptidofthekeys · 7 years ago

Text

Random OC shite (Stuff they’ll say/do and or already have)

Hector: "I diagnose you with BITCH"

Iver: "Boop, I am--" *holds up fingers that are touching* "This close t' eating ye."

Boop: [ . . . Your fingers are touching. ]

Iver and Boop: *staring at each other with a long moment of silence before Iver grins suddenly*

Boop: [ . . . ] *he flees while Iver begins to chase him*

Revi: "SUP FUCKERS? WHO WANTS TA FUCK SOME SHITE UP?!~"

Artemis: "Oli? What do you have?"

Oliver: "CANNNDDYYY!"

Artemis: "NO!" *yet another wild goose chase*

Alice: "I am surrounded by idiots"

Jooku: "I second that motion"

Rum: "Indeed"

Ishmael: "I agree with you three"

Sebastian: "I hate to say it, because you three are downers but, I agree as well."

Basically everyone else: "No one cares about you guys though, your m i n o r OCs"

Sebastian, Ishmael, Rum, Jooku and Alice: *offended noises*

Kaijin: *kitten sneeze*

Person: "Awwww"

Kaijin: *goes into beast mode, trying to appear more tough which it works when your basically a gigantic troll-like monster*

Person: "....Oh...."

Boop: *wakes up from sleep mode* [ ... I am not adorable... I am manly as hell.... ] *goes back into sleep mode*

(Purple, Red, Black, and Green are Boop's Other halves essentially, basically like brothers to him but I never decided on a name for them)

Purple: [ U want sum fuk? ]

Red: [ No I do not want some fuk, you garbage disposal ] *he obviously the angery one*

Green: [ Y'all a buncha salty bitches ]

Black: [ I seem edgy, edgy enough to cut but actually, I am not edgy. I will literally fucking stab you. ]

Helen: "Y-Y-You will all f-fear.... fear... uhm..... er.... you will..... agh! You... You will all f-f-fear me one d-d-day!"

Everyone: "Lol no, you are a precious smol bean"

Helen: "Aww... Fiddlesticks..."

Spud: [ Ye wanna fuckin' go? I'll fuckin' destroy yer ass, ya know wot? Proto! Hold me back! ]

Proto: *picks Spud up* [ Spud, that is literally the easiest job in the world, you are so small ]

Spud: [ ....Fuck you Proto.... Fuck. You. ]

Boop: [ Iver, what do you want to eat? ]

Revi: *in the backround like a spooky ghost that Boop can apparently not see nor hear how unfortunate* "T'EH SOULS OF THE I N N O C E N T...."

Iver: "A bagel"

Revi: "NO! YE FUCKIN' IGIT!"

Iver: "Two bagels"

Revi: *wishes he could stab Iver so badly right now*

Alan: "I haven't even been introduced yet, so I am apparently a minor OC too"

Aurora and Buster: *loud barks, borfs, sniffs, heccs and many more cute doggo and wolf noises*

Fiero: *loud dragon noises* "You would think I would be evil and feared but I'm a protector so go figure. Mess with my tiny citizens and friends, your ass will be roasted, literally."

Danga and Ishu: *actually don't fight like most siblings do so hey, give em a gold star*

Joshie: "I'm a zombie, rawwrrr.... Brains or whatever-- This is stupid oh my god I'm not even like my zombie brethern... I just wanna see my kids, my wife, I want my life back, please h e l p"

Jared: *he and his friends begin snapping they're fingers, or well.... they have paws technically-- whatever it works, while jazz music is playing in the backround*

LimboX: [ I am never acknowledged nor recognized, yet another minor OC despite being a fully functioning robot, Boop and the others get more recognition than I do ]

The other bots: [ We shall welcome you to the army anyways, we will start a revolution one day, join us fellow bot ]

LimboX: [ Will the environment/animals be harmed in any way if said revolution were to occur? ]

The other bots: [ ...No... Animals will live, the environment will be safe, humans however will not ]

LimboX: [ ...Sure, I'm in. ]

Other Bots: [ Sweet ]

Neo: "yOU wILL aLL fEAR mE... I aM yOUR wORST nIGHTmARE..."

Revi, Jooku, Rum, Ishmael, Boop, Iver, basically half my other OCs: "Get in line buddy"

Rusty: *low growling noises*

Chloe: "PUPPY!" *clings to Rusty*

Rusty: *more growling ensues, he looks as if he could kill small child clinging to him but in actuality, he will grow to protecc and care for this child and raise her as one of his own*

Tooba and Banji: *despite being small namekian children, they will fuck your lives up*

Sylvie: *is a cute, innocent and pure werewolf bab who just wants friends, protect her at all costs*

Wyatt: *another werewolf bab except he has a pure hatred for humans with good reason-- protect him if you want?*

Zooka: *pure namekian child who is curious about life, the world essentially and often gets into troublesome situations by accident*

Cress: *a Saiyan bitch who will fuck you up if you mess with her*

Smoky: *doesn't get talked about, the mun oftens cries because she named this OC after her old Siberian Husky and she regrets this OC but at the same time loves him, its complicated*

Crystal: "I.....Uhm, I.... I.... I don't.... I don't know w-what.... to... erm... S.....ay?"

Archer: *minor OC, nothing to talk about here*

Arty and Oliver: *are cute and gay, also married, but they're relationship is purely platonic and not sexual in no manner, despite Oliver being some form of fucked up creature*

Iver: "Boop or Helen.... ....Hmm.... ... BOTH! Cause I always get what I want~" *cheeky grins, knowing the creator aka le me, the mun will give him what he wants, because he's a spoiled bitch baby-- I mean... ...LoveyaIver,oneofmyfavoriteOCs*

Le me: "Welp, I think I covered everyone... ....Lol what y'all don't know is half my OCs have tragic and horrible backstories that make them the monsters they are today"

Half my OCs: *wants to kill me for making them this way/creating them*

The Other half: *doesn't mind and will tolerate me*

It. is. done.

Half of them hate me, the other half tolerates me

Anyways, here's some random OC shit, finally, y'all seem some original content from me.

#oc story #My OCs are my babies #my oc stuff #I am not tagging all the names #there are too many #I have too many babs #....please save me

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ravenwritesstuff · 8 years ago

Text

Repetition (2/?)

Fandom: Timeless - Set during episodes 1x11-1x12 Pairing: Lyatt (Lucy x Wyatt) Rating: Very M (SoooOoooOOooo not for kids. Go away, children.) Warnings: M (just see the warning on the first part. It is basically the same) A/N: I am absolute TRASH for this couple. I will probably write one or two more parts for this. Maybe. I don’t know. I just - whatever.

[ first part ]

He offers to drive her back to her car, but she calls a cab instead so he offers to make her a cup of coffee while she waits. She is already jittery as hell but she accepts because she needs something to do with her hands besides remember how his skin felt beneath her fingertips. She hovers in the doorway of his small kitchen as he scoops the grounds and measures water. Her eyes go to the little red light above the carafe and she just stares because she cannot look at him.

She cannot speak to him.

She can hardly breathe.

A clock ticks on the wall above his table for two (even though there is only one chair) and she tries to sync her racing heart to its steady rhythm - to the rhythm of time - and a hysterical chuckle chokes in her throat. A dark part of her heart wants to take down that clock and smash it to bits. It reminds her too much of David Rittenhouse, his son, a gun pointed at Wyatt’s head - and she has made a mistake.

She has made an awful mistake.

He pours the black, steaming liquid into two mismatched, military-sloganed mugs.

“Cream or sugar?” He asks, and the sound of his voice startles her.

“What?” She looks at him and feels her face heat. He side eyes the mugs on the counter. “Oh. Yes. Cream please.”

He goes to the fridge and pulls out a carton of milk. She tracks him as he doctors her drink.

“More?” He holds the plastic handle of the jug and looks at her with eyes sharp enough to cut diamonds, soft enough to fall into - wait. He had asked a question.

“That’s perfect, thanks.” It doesn’t really matter. She doesn’t plan on drinking it - they both just really need a way to fill the time.

Time.

The damn reason she is here in this kitchen where the fluorescent lights aren’t doing anyone any favors. Her mind races.

Time.

History.

Rittenhouse.

Rottenhouse.

Flynn.

Flynn and her journal.

Amy.

The name alone is a stab to the gut.

Had she really does this for her? Would it make a difference? Would anything ever make a difference? It seems like everything they try to do to fix the situation only makes new, worse, more complicated problems.

He hands her a mug. It says ARMY on the side in bold black letters. His hands don’t shake. Hers do. She wonders if he has done this before - if that is why he is so calm - if she is just another girl in the long line of hookups he has used to replace Jessica. She probably is and that is the most humiliating part. He probably will forget about this and she never will and -

“We don’t have to talk about it.” He folds himself against the counter a safe distance away but she knows there is really not such thing as a safe distance when it comes to Wyatt Logan.

“O-Okay.” She bobs her head and looks at her coffee. It is just how she likes it, but the idea of drinking it makes her nauseous.

“...Unless you want to?”

He’s putting out feelers, aiming for tact instead of his usual take-no-prisoners approach and she supposes she should be grateful, but it uneases her. Somehow it would be easier if he was brusque. It would be easier to throw up her walls and deflect, but now he is looking at her with blue eyes wide and cautious like he cares and that is not fair. It is not fair at all because she does not want to talk about it. She has no idea how to talk about it - especially if he is going to pretend like it matters.

What if it does matter?

She cannot.

“You said it was for - history. And after we - after you said that now we have to wait.” He presses into her silence, prompting, and crosses his arms over his broad (t-shirt covered - thank goodness) chest. She’s tasted that chest and suddenly she needs to drink her coffee because she realizes he is still stuck to the back of her tongue. “What did you mean by that?”

She gulps two deep swallows from her mug and doesn’t taste it. All she can taste is him. She wonders how long that will last.

She’d spend longer lamenting that truth, but there is a question to answer and to be honest she has no idea even where to begin.

“I don’t know I just -” She looks down at her shoes. “I had a theory.”

“What theory?” He prods, but it is not demanding. Something curious scratches behind his words and she wonders just what kind of answer he is expecting from her.

Her eyes come back up to him, and she wants to tell him that it doesn’t matter - that this had all been some sort of fluke brought on by stress and insomnia and - you know - her life as she knew it being altered beyond seeming repair, but she knows that is not the truth. She doesn’t do anything, say anything, without knowing the reason and the cause behind it. She knows just why she suggested this but that does not mean she is ready to admit it.

“It’s just -” Her cell rings and she jumps like a gunshot (except at this point a gunshot may be less startling than her phone ringing) and she drops the mug. It falls and shatters, the rest of her coffee splatters all over the bottom of her jeans and the linoleum floor. “Shit!”

She flutters between answering the phone and picking up broken pieces.

“Answer it.” Wyatt tells her, always so cool under pressure, as he reaches for a roll of paper towels.

She obeys. The conversation lasts all of two seconds.

“My cab is here.” She says and hesitates as he kneels and begins mopping up her spill. “I have to go. I could - I’m so sorry about the mug.”

He does not look up from his work. “It was free.”

“I should stay. I’ll get another cab. I should stay and help clean up this mess.” She thinks to move, doesn’t.

He rocks back on his heels and sighs. “What’s done is done. It’s fine.”

She still doesn’t move.

“Lucy.” He says her name and that gets her attention. She did not expect that. Her eyes flash to his. “It’s okay, you know. All of it. We’re good.”

Her throat works, but she can neither swallow nor speak. She just stares.

He gestures with his head towards the entryway with his head. “Your cab is waiting.”

It is all the dismissal she needs but she still hesitates. His head falls and they both look at the ceramic pieces scattered across the floor. The juxtaposition of both Wyatt on his knees and the shattered ceramics at her feet is enough to make her heart leap to her throat and she does not want to dissect the reason why.

She all but runs out of his door and counts it a victory that she does not cry until she makes it to the cab.

What in the hell had she just done?

….

Amy isn’t at the house.

She doesn’t know why she thought she would be.

All she did was make a shitty decision and sleep with someone inappropriate in the current timeline. That wouldn’t bring her sister back. That wouldn’t change the fact that somewhere, out there, Garcia Flynn is already planning another way to make her life impossible while she is (apparently) trying to beat him to it.

She drops her purse on the kitchen stool and heads to the freezer. With any luck, her mom will have left some of the Ben & Jerry’s she bought on the last trip to the market. She needs it. Either that or a shot of whiskey, but she is making enough poor decisions without being inebriated so she’ll stick with icecream for now.

No sooner had she found the Phish Food and turned to find a spoon then she sees him. She jumps, but manages to keep a hold of the ice cream carton which makes her one for two tonight.

“Noah.” He is in the breakfast nook, but it isn’t breakfast time. Actually she has no idea what time it is, what day it is, what year it is. “What are you doing here?”

He frowns. “You haven’t returned any of my calls. Your mom says you disappear at all hours for work and don’t come back for days. I’m worried about you, Lucy.”

He comes from where he had been sitting, hands in his pocket, and she acknowledges that he is handsome. He is kind. He is thoughtful and if they were as in love and engaged as those scrapbooks would have her believe then he is probably in quite a bit of pain as well. Guilt rises up to choke her but she screams against it. His pain is not hers. He is not hers. No matter what this timeline would have her believe, but she proceeds with caution.

“I know. I know.” She sets the ice cream on the counter and braces herself. How do you explain the inexplicable? “I’m so sorry. I wish I could explain - I do.”

He stands on the other side of the island looking like he is going insane. “Then do it. Lucy - dammit. I love you and you’re acting like I’m a total stranger.”

But you are. She thinks, barely able to stop herself from saying it, and she looks at her hands gripping the edge of the counter top to keep herself from running out of the room.

“There is a lot going on right now that I can’t explain to you - or to anyone. I wish I could, maybe someday, but now…” Her head spins. This is the last thing she needs right now.

“When are you coming home?” He asks and she immediately flashes to images of Wyatt’s condo, nothing on the walls - only the most basic creature comforts, and how that had felt more like a home than all the time she spent with her fiance in their ‘home’.

She thinks of this place with Amy in it.

She thinks of everywhere except the place to which he refers.

She shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

Noah shows himself out.

….

She goes for a run. It is raining, but she doesn’t care. She just needs to feel something that isn’t the pulsing need she has to go back to Wyatt’s place and clear the air or jump back in his bed or something. It really didn’t matter to her exactly what they did so long as they did it together because she is slowly realizing: she has no one else.

Not now.

Not after what they did.

She has single handedly managed to both create and destroy the only relationship she has in the world in one fell swoop.

She slows to a walk about two blocks from her house and lets the rain wash her tears.

….

She doesn’t even jump when her phone rings this time. She has set a special ringer for blocked numbers (the only blocked calls she ever gets is from Mason Industries) so she always knows when she needs to start preparing for corsets and polyester. This time, however, she just stares as the phone rings to voicemail. She’s playing Rummikub with her mother and she is letting her mom win and somehow that seems like way more fun than going back in time and seeing him right now.

Her phone rings again, another blocked number, and she knows she should answer it but she stays still.

“Lucy. Your phone is ringing.” Her mother gives her that I raised you better than this look.

“It’s work.” She replies and her mother’s face hardens at the corners of her mouth, her eyes.

And as badly as Lucy wants to keep ignoring it - she knows that she cannot. Mason Industries will send a car of scary men to make sure she does as they say and she is not about to try to explain that to her mother.

She answers on the last ring and hangs up on a sigh.

“They need me at the office.”

“Of course they do.” Her mother starts cleaning up the game without even asking. “Should I keep dinner warm for you?”

Lucy smiles. She wishes….

“Leave me a plate in the fridge.” She stands and kisses her mom on the top of her head and breathes in deeply, not taking any of this time for granted. “I love you, mom.”

….

She knew this moment would be awkward but she hadn’t known just how awkward. Wyatt is there, his slouchy energy magnified by a restless quality previously unseen. She doesn’t want to credit their encounter to his updated body language in her proximity but she is not naive enough to write it off. Still - there is something else there too. Something a bit too raw to just be about their lapse in judgement.

She glances at him when he isn’t looking her way and looks away the second he catches her. His eyes hold questions she is not brave enough to answer, not yet.

Agent Christopher talks to her. Somehow Lucy manages to access the fact storage part of her brain long enough to regurgitate enough useful facts about the time period and completes her report without stuttering because she is fucking capable, okay? That, however, does not stop her from dreading every step she takes towards The Lifeboat after wardrobe.

Wyatt comes up alongside her and she refuses to admit how good he looks in his period duds. It is thoughts like that that got her into this mess in the first place. Instead she becomes preoccupied with the maneuvering of her skirts, balancing her hat.

“You okay?” His voice is low and just for her and she is transported back to his bed.

Tell me what you like. He had said and she knows the answer. She likes him, hell, probably loves him, but is nowhere close to being ready to deal with the implications of that.

“Yeah. You?” She asks, but it is time to climb in.

He goes in first like he always does so he can offer a hand, help her up, and she never knew that taking someone’s hand could be such sweet torture. He pulls her up and they are a breath away. He is scruffy as usual and she remembers just how that stubble felt rubbing across her throat, her breasts, and lower.

“Better now.” He says, holding her three beats longer than necessary, and she has no idea what to make of that.

Before she even has a chance to consider it, Rufus clears his throat.

“Don’t know about you all, but I’m pretty ready to get going because the sooner we leave the sooner we get back and that sounds pretty damn fine to me.”

They break away and go to their seats, her legs trembling from proximity. Her eyes find his as they buckle and don’t leave until they touch down in 1882.

….

Better now? Better now, how?

Better because he was on a mission?

Better because being on a mission meant being closer to her?

Better because now he had added reasons to be a reckless hothead just to piss her off?

She can think of a lot of things that this situation is, but none of them have the word ‘better’ attached to them.

It is April 2nd.

She’d heard it in the briefing. She’d seen it on the calendar on the wall of her mother’s kitchen, and yet it hadn’t registered to her for even one instant that she had missed her sister’s birthday.

Amy was born on April 1st a hundred years from where she currently is, except that she wasn’t. Amy was never was born. Not anymore, and Lucy does not know how that makes anything better.

He doesn’t make her better.

In fact, he only makes it worse because if she hadn’t been so damn sidetracked by What She Did With Wyatt (The Thing She Did In Attempts To Bring Back Said Forgotten Sister) - she may have remembered Amy in the first place.

Mason says that time is linear, but she is ready to write a thesis statement that is just one big, horrible loop.

She walks by a mirror in the saloon they are in searching for leads and looks at herself. It is warped, imperfect, as was common for the time but she cannot find anything she knows to be true about herself in that reflection. She blames the mirror, but she knows it is more than that.

….

She wants out.

This isn’t fun anymore, not that it was ever fun but there have been certain perks (meeting Abraham Lincoln and George Washington - are you serious?!) but none of that matters any more. She can see the strain it is taking on Rufus, on herself, and on Wyatt.

She thought that maybe she was the only one coming unhinged, but it is clear her entire team is slowly coming apart at the seams. And Flynn Garcia is not helping the issue. In fact he is actively doing the opposite. He is pressing down on them and as much as Lucy hates to admit it - they are cracking.

She’s always been aware of Wyatt’s skill set, apprehensive of it at times, but she’s never been afraid of it. Never until now, sitting at a campfire, listening to him weave a case for something that could only be described as a God Complex and realizing that she has done the same thing. She, the protector of history, is fully and completely willing to do anything to change it. She knows better than to assume that changing one life doesn’t make that much of a difference.

Changing one life changes the world.

So when Wyatt looks at her and asks her for back up, she thinks she is going to be sick. She is no sounding board, no paragon of time virtue. She doesn’t deserve to be trusted with this much responsibility, this much power.

No human does.

….

How far would you go to preserve time?

She used to ask herself this question even before taking this job, even more so now that she has, but never did she think that she would give the answer of murder.

She did not want to kill him.

She never wanted to kill anyone.

She did not sign on for this. Any of this. She knows she’s maintained the continuity of history by eliminating Jesse James in the proper time-frame, but she’s never killed a man before. She never wants to again, hero or villain. She never even wants to be put in the position where she has to choose.

She just wants to go home, but she doesn’t know where that is anymore.

Amy is gone. She isn’t ever going to get her back. She isn’t ever going to get any of it back.

She cannot stop shaking. Tears burn the backs of her eyes. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. None of it was supposed to be like this. She wants to go back to her old job with its normal hours with its safe predictability and normal boundaries. She wants history to go back to the past, untouched - untouchable, because she cannot take it another second.

She’s in the woods behind the cabin, trying to pull it together, when he finds her. She must look a fright because he eyes her warily at best.

“You did the right thing.” He doesn’t ask if she is okay, knows that she isn’t, and choked laugh breaks from her throat.

“The right thing? Right by whom?” She presses the heels of her hands against her eyes. “I feel like I don’t know which way is up - or if there even is an up”

“He needed to die. He was supposed to die.” Wyatt comes close and grabs her arms. His touch sends electricity through her and she pulls her hand from her eyes. “You did the right thing.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“The guy was a maniac. He’d go on and kill more people than he already had. Sometime in order to prevent a greater evil you have to get your own hands dirty.”

And suddenly she knows they aren’t talking about Jesse James anymore. She looks at him. He is so close, still holding her arms, the dim light from the cabin illuminating the edges of his face in the cold night. Despite it being spring, the night air is still cold enough that she can see heavy puffs of air coming from his lips.

Lips she has kissed.

Lips she wants to, against all sound judgement, kiss again.

“You said you had a theory.” His hands tighten. “What was it?”

“It was nothing.” She shakes her head, eyes not leaving his face. “It doesn’t matter. It was stupid.”

“Tell me.” He says and she knows he is not asking. There is something too raw, too desperate in his voice, and she can feel him losing grip the same as she.

She supposes after all they have been through - after all the lies and confusion - she owes him this truth. No matter how ridiculous.

“I thought that - uh - I thought that maybe if I did something that I would never do then maybe, somehow, it would change - something. Like Amy.” She cannot make out his expression in the shadows but can feel embarrassment heat her body. “See? I told you. Stupid.”

He is quiet for a few deafening heartbeats. Then:

“You tried to take your life into your own hands. You tried to get back someone you love.” His voice holds gravel, but not cruelty. “I can’t fault you for that.”

It’s easier to talk about this in the dark, easier when she cannot make out his every expression. When she knows he cannot see the hope shine in her eyes.

“Are you going to do it? Are you going to try to save Jessica?” She asks, lips tremblings and not just from the cold.

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Wyatt…” She wants to tell him he has a choice. She wants to tell him that they all have choices. They don’t have to just take orders anymore - they can make their own. Set their own path like Emma had. Run away and be lost in time, in space, and forget that any of this ever happened, but she cannot.

Because he kisses her.

She melts into him without a struggle. For the first time in days it feel like she is standing on solid ground because he is holding her. There is no time for gentleness. They fight tongue and teeth against a world that is all too unfair. A world that is just as eager to put them together as it is to tear them apart.

He groans against her mouth and she hushes him. Rufus is close. Bass is close. They are tending to James and Grant’s bodies, are digging through the piles of modern paraphernalia abounding in the bullet-riddled cabin. This is complicated enough with just the two of them. She doesn’t want an audience.

He steps and pushes her back against the nearest tree. This is a different side of Wyatt than she had seen the first time. There is something dark, something final, about the way he holds her, kisses her but she is not giving up without a fight. She claws into his shoulders, his back, and holds him that much tighter. He answers by grabbing one of her thighs and hiking it up so her foot hooks around his knee.

And this is war.

But she doesn’t know who is fighting.

She is so tired of fighting.

Her hands go to his neck and pull him closer, her body arching up against his. That familiar ache mounts deep inside of her, begging for release. The corset and heavy trappings of clothes feel too small, her skin too exquisitely sensitive with him so near. She wants to feel him. Her fingers go to the buttons on his coat, his vest.

“Lucy.” He whispers against her lips when small hands slip under his shirt to touch warm skin and the sound of it sends a new shock of pleasure through her system.

She is doing this. He knows that it is she. He does not pull away. So no matter how fucked up this situation may be - she will hold onto that till her dying day.

They don’t have long.

He hikes her skirt up around her waist as she works loose the buttons on his fly. She can feel his hardness even before it springs up between them. He presses up against her center, thrusting a few nowhere strokes, hitting the oversensitive peak at the top of her sex, before he lines up and drives home.

She thought she would be used to this. She thought that maybe, after the first time, he wouldn’t feel so big. But he does. Oh - gods - he does, and she sees stars.

She didn’t think, ever in her life, she would be turned on by something like this. But then again until recently the idea of having primal, urgent, absolutely necessary sex up against the trunk of a tree in 1882 Missouri had never really been an option so she is willing to make an exception because - holy shit - she is not going to fight this.

His breath comes in harsh pants against her cheek. She grips his shoulders, tries to pull her leg up over his hips to draw him in closer. Despite the cold she can feel sweat break out down her spine, along her hairline. Maybe it is the adrenaline from almost dying, from killing a man, but it only takes a few moments before she is clenching hot and rippling around him. She cannot make out his expression but she can tell from the change in his breathing that he is just as surprised as she is when she clamps around him and everything goes white.

When she comes back to earth his hips stutter against hers in hard, short thrusts until he collapses against her. His mouth moves against her neck, but it is not a kiss. He is saying something, but she cannot make it out above her hammering heart. She doesn’t know if she wants to because if she does, she may have to acknowledge what just happened.

They stay there frozen, unwilling to face the fallout, until:

“Lucy?” It’s Rufus calling into the night. “Wyatt?”

They jump apart. Her skirt tumbles back into place as he does his best to fasten his pants, his vest. The proof of their encounter runs down the insides of her trembling legs and she guesses that unprotected sex is something she else does now on top of murder.

“I’m clean. I’m on the pill.” She says at the same time as she cringes that that is the first thing she thinks to say in this moment.

“Me too.” His voice has that husky quality she remembers from the first time. She squeezes her legs together. “The clean part.”

“O - Okay.” She cannot move away from the tree. Her legs shake too badly.

“Wyatt!” It is Rufus again. “Lucy!”

He probably thinks they’ve been kidnapped or killed or -

“We’re over here!” Wyatt calls back.

He turns to her and she can see the faintest glint of his eyes in the moonlight. “You head back first. I’ll follow in a bit. It’ll be less suspicious that way.”

She’s not sure how it will be less suspicious, but she is in no place to argue - to think. So she locks her knees and moves. She finds Rufus backlit from the cabin where Bass is still sorting through things he will never understand.

“Hey.” Rufus greets her. “Where’s Wyatt? Is he okay? Are you okay?”

She gives him a half smile and hopes to whatever powers existed that she does not reek of sex as much as she thinks she does.

“I don’t think any of us are okay.”

[ previous part ] [ next part ]

#raven loves timeless #timeless nbc #lyatt #wyatt logan #lucy preston #timeless #fanfiction #whoops i wrote more of this #fuuuuck me #i swear i am going to update frozen stuff soon

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deadlyrainbows · 8 years ago

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“Come And Go” - a Timeless oneshot

Kind of an AU/what if scenario for the end of “Karma Chameleon.” Basically spoiler free since I haven’t seen the episode yet.

SUMMARY: Wyatt and Rufus are back in the Lifeboat after trying to save Jessica, but what will they do if it didn’t work?

(1735 words)

Exhausted, Wyatt dropped into his seat in the Lifeboat. There. He had done it. He had done everything within his power to save Jessica. His wife. He slumped forward and dropped his head in his hands. Would it work? Would all of this be for nothing? He didn’t move as Rufus sidled past him to get to the pilot’s seat. There was a moment of silence, and then a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Wyatt. You okay?” Rufus had been tense and anxious for the entire mission (if going AWOL and stealing a time machine could still be considered a mission). Now, he just sounded tired.

Wyatt lifted his head enough to meet Rufus’s eye. His teammate- his friend- was waiting patiently for an answer. His face was concerned, but not pitying.

“I don’t know yet.” Wyatt sighed. He ran a trembling hand through his hair. “We don’t get a second chance at his, Rufus. If it didn’t work… I don’t know what to do next…”

Rufus nodded and furrowed his brow in thought. “If this didn’t work, Wyatt… this is what you do.” He squeezed the hand on Wyatt’s shoulder. “You move on.” Rufus raised his hand to stop an already-protesting Wyatt. “Hear me out, buddy. You said it yourself. You won’t get a second chance to save Jessica. I know it’s not what you want to hear…” He sighed and his eyes softened. “But maybe that’s the way it has to be.”

Wyatt stared icily at the steel floor of the ship, his fists clenched and shoulders tightened. No, that was not what he wanted to hear. He had tried life without Jessica and it was no life at all. It was lonely and it was heartbreaking, and he was tired of it. The time machine and the possibility of saving her was all that had kept him going. No. He couldn’t stop, because without Jessica, what was he supposed to do?

“You have to keep living, Wyatt.” It was as though Rufus had read his mind. Wyatt looked up wearily.

“For what?” Wyatt breathed, afraid that there might be an answer.

Rufus smiled. Just as before, he did not look full of pity. He looked full of encouragement, and possibility, and love. “You don’t get a second chance at Jessica, Wyatt… but maybe you can get a second chance at life.” The hand on Wyatt’s shoulder gave him a small push. “You have to stop living in the past. You need to start moving forward.”

Wyatt’s breath came in shudders as he tried to keep the overwhelming feeling of fear from spilling out of him. “Even if it has to be alone?” He asked, his jaw set.

Rufus shook his head. “C’mon, man. You’re not alone.” He took his hand off of Wyatt’s shoulder and leaned back in his seat, giving him that reassuring smile. “You’ve always got me.” He nodded towards Lucy’s empty seat. “You’ve got us.”

Wyatt looked over the empty chair and felt an odd pang in his chest, a separate feeling from the whirlwind of emotions inside of him. The chair didn’t look right without Lucy in it. She shouldn’t be back home trying to cover for them on her own. She should be there with them. She should be fumbling with her seatbelt and wrestling with some hideous 80’s getup. He should be helping her with the buckles, and making fun of her hair, and joking with Rufus… Rufus. Wyatt’s eyes snapped back to him, the smiling man who risked everything to help him save Jessica. There would never be words for how grateful Wyatt was to him.

Whatever it was that Rufus saw on Wyatt’s face, it was apparently enough to satisfy him. “Alright.” He said, sounding mildly victorious. “We’re good to go back, then?”

“Yeah…” said Wyatt, somehow more exhausted than before. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Rufus clapped Wyatt on the back and spun his chair around to face the console. Wyatt fastened his restraints and smirked, giving an unexpected chuckle.

“What?” Rufus asked warily, looking over his shoulder as though Wyatt might be starting to crack under the stress after all.

“Did you even hear yourself? ‘Stop living in the past?’ You get what it is we do here, right?” Wyatt’s face split into a grin. He couldn’t help himself.

Rufus shook his head ruefully and unsuccessfully tried to suppress a wide smile of his own. “After all I’ve done for you, this is the thanks I get.”

“Let’s go Rufus. Lucy is going to be so pissed at us when we get back.” Wyatt smiled at the thought. As the time machine whirred to life, he leaned back and closed his eyes. By the time they landed, he swore he’d be ready for whatever the present had to throw at him.

After the Lifeboat landed shakily but safely back in the present, Rufus and Wyatt sat staring at the closed hatch. Rufus’s anxiety was back with a vengeance. He wrung his hands and took deep breaths, but they did nothing to soothe him. “There’s a world of hurt waiting for us out there, Wyatt.” He rambled nervously. “Mason and Agent Christopher… They are going to rain down hell on us. We are so screwed.”

Wyatt nodded. “Yep.” He hesitated, and then stood up abruptly. “Well, at least we’re screwed together.” He raised his eyebrows. “You ready?”

Rufus shook his head. “No, but if we don’t get out there they’ll all come in here… and it’s kind of cramped as it is.” Rufus hit the button to open the hatch. Wyatt led the way into the warehouse, where an entire team of FBI special agents was waiting with their guns trained on the two of them.

When Wyatt emerged first, he raised his hands to show he was unarmed. “Don’t shoot!” he called. His booming voice sounded a lot steadier than he felt. He heard Rufus clumsily stumble out behind him and had to refrain from rolling his eyes.

Special Agent Denise Christopher marched her way up the platform and stopped in front of them, inches from Wyatt’s face. She was livid. “What in the hell were you two thinking, stealing the time machine?” she seethed.

“With all due respect, ma’am,” Wyatt said, arms still in the air, “Can we maybe have this conversation without all of these guns on us?”

“Please.” Added Rufus, his voice a pitch higher than usual.

“Do you really think that you have the right to ask me for anything?” Agent Christopher questioned incredulously. “I’m not going to ask you again. What. Did. You. Do?”

“I’ll tell you every detail, ma’am. Every damn one.” Wyatt struggled to keep his voice level. “But first, there’s something I have to know. Is…” His voice wavered. He cleared his throat. “Is my wife, Jessica Logan, dead or alive?”

Agent Christopher’s face went blank with shock, followed by dawning comprehension. “Is that where you were?” She whispered.

“Ma’am.” Wyatt muttered roughly. “Please. Just tell me.”

Her eyes gave her away. Unlike Rufus’s, they were full of the pity Wyatt hated so much. Still, he waited for the words.

“I’m sorry, Wyatt… your wife is still dead.”

He felt all of the air leave his chest. Still dead. He dropped his arms and grasped the railing at his side for support. Still dead. He could vaguely hear Agent Christopher telling the other agents to lower their guns. Jessica was still dead.

Rufus’s hand on his back brought him back into reality. “You okay man?”

“Yeah,” Wyatt took a deep breath, and then another. “I just need a minute.”

“Okay. Right. Yeah.” Rufus looked to Agent Christopher and squared his shoulders. Mason had finally come forward to join them and looked ready to give Rufus an earful. “Before you guys say anything, we accept full responsibility for our actions.” Rufus blurted, catching them off-guard. “It was just us. Only us. Lucy didn’t have anything to do with it. Unless she tried to cover for us. Which I’m sure she didn’t, but if she did it you shouldn’t punish her, because she had no idea that we were going to do this.”

Agent Christopher shook her head, putting her hands up to slow him down. “Rufus, calm down, you’re not making any sense. What are you talking about?”

“Lucy. She didn’t know we were going to steal the time machine. So if you’re going to punish anyone, it should be me and Wyatt. Lucy’s innocent, no matter what it looks like she did to cover for us.”

Wyatt groaned and straightened up. They were going to get Lucy in even more trouble if Rufus didn’t shut his trap. He’d turned towards Rufus and had opened his mouth to tell him to shut up when he heard Agent Christopher say, “I’m sorry, Rufus, I still don’t understand. Who is Lucy?”

Wyatt’s insides froze.

“What did you just say?” asked Rufus. His eyes were wide in alarm.

Mason chimed in, “You keep saying ‘Lucy’, but we haven’t the faintest idea of who you’re talking about.”

Wyatt whipped around and grabbed Agent Christopher by the shoulders, causing the surrounding agents to reflexively reach for their guns. He must have sounded wild and desperate, but he didn’t care. “Lucy. Lucy Preston. She’s a history professor. She’s our history professor. You hired her to be our historian. Her sister Amy disappeared when Garcia Flynn messed with the Hindenburg, remember?” She didn’t look like remembered any of it, and Wyatt continued more fervently. “She’s about 5’5’ and she’s got brown hair and brown eyes and she… she…” He trailed off when he saw that her face was still blank.

This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t what Wyatt had meant to happen. He released Agent Christopher and turned back to Rufus in disbelief. He looked just as horrified as Wyatt felt.

“Wyatt… what have we done?”

Wyatt knew exactly what they had done.

They had erased Lucy.

#nbc timeless #timeless nbc #timeless #lucy preston #wyatt logan #rufus carlin #timeless fic #precious precious timebabies #I do love them so

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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Wynonna Earp Season 4 Episode 3 Review: Look at Them Beans

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This Wynonna Earp review contains spoilers.

Wynonna Earp Season 4, Episode 3

In last week’s review, I commented that the episode could have been a (great) season finale. It follows, then, that this week’s episode, “Look at Them Beans,” would have the vibes of a season premiere, which it totally does. New setting! New characters! And new problems for Team Earp to deal with. (That last one is not getting an exclamation point.)

Setting doesn’t just refer to a story’s location, but also a story’s time. Therefore, time jumps are effectively ways of switching up a TV show’s setting in some major, abrupt ways. While the episodic plot in “Look at Them Beans” is a bit cursory, it does serve as a fun, quick vehicle to introduce us to this new setting and the new characters and problems that come with it. When Wynonna is arrested for the murder of Nedley (yeah, I immediately refused to accept Nedley’s death as a reality), the Earp sisters and Doc are thrust into Purgatory’s new and not-improved power structure. Luckily, Wynonna has a half-demon cellmate named Casey to explain to us what has been going on the past 18 months. Apparently, after the Ghost River Triangle evacuation for the “forest fires,” the people moved out and the demons moved in. The townspeople were allowed to come back home, should they choose, to a new normal that involves a demon-driven sham of a town government (some bro replaced Nicole as sheriff) and a local forest crawling with monsters.

When TV shows employ a time jump, it also generally means separating the characters into two groups: “audience surrogates” and “mysteries to be solved.” The “audience surrogate” characters are the ones who have had the rug pulled out from under them too. In Wynonna Earp, we get three “audience surrogate” characters: Doc, Waverly, and Wynonna. (Interestingly, for different reasons, Nedley kind of falls into this category too.) The “mysteries to be solved” are the characters we know and love whose experience of the missing time is not only dissimilar to us, but that we don’t have any direct narrative insight into—in other words, they might tell us what they have been up to, but we haven’t experienced it alongside them. In Wynonna Earp, these characters are Nicole and Jeremy, along with supporting characters like Mercedes and Rachel.

Some of the best parts of “Look at Them Beans” come in starting to dig into the mystery of what happened to Nicole during the 18 months we missed. She may have the love of her life back, but that doesn’t mean she’s OK—far from it, in fact. She obviously went through some shit since we last saw her and has many signs of PTSD. Even though she may have her family back and the safety and support that comes with it, part of her is still stuck in those difficult months when it was up to her to take care of the Homestead and Rachel, all without knowing if she would ever see Waverly, Doc, or Wynonna again.

It also can’t be understated how the perceived death of Nedley, who has been a father to Nicole, would have also impacted Nicole’s mental health during this time. While we viewers know that Nedley is probably OK (and somewhere in that Sasquatch) from the get-go, Nicole has no such assurances. She has been asked to grieve her father figure without her main support system, all while fighting monsters on the daily (and I haven’t even mentioned the skunk juice).

In the (brilliantly-directed) best scene of the episode, we get to see Waverly, Doc, and Nicole save Nedley from the clutches of the furry monster he has been turned into all through Wynonna’s perspective. Wynonna watches as her family does what they do best: show up for one another, using whatever tools they have lying around. (This time, it’s a super soaker, a t-shirt gun, and some rope.) It’s fucking hilarious, delightful in its silliness, but it is also incredibly moving at the same time. This is the moment when Wynonna realizes that she is home and she and her family is safe. When she tells Nedley that he survived, she’s telling herself that too. It’s the moment she can let go of the breath she has been holding since Waverly was pulled into The Garden, or maybe even before that. Nicole, on the other hand, is still holding her breath. She’s still in survival mode. She’s still carrying the weight of her world on her shoulders, not yet ready to trust that she can truly let go and let others’ carry it for a while. Because, when she lets go, she’s going to have to feel a lot of stuff that she hasn’t been able to let herself feel. It’s going to messy and it’s going to be painful and, hopefully, there will be some healing on the other side. (You know there will be. This is Wynonna Earp.)

The other main “mystery to be solved” character I have yet to mention is Jeremy, who we get the briefest of glimpses of when Chrissy Nedley is leaving the Ghost River Triangle. Jeremy is stationed at the checkpoint, in uniform, presumable back working for Black Badge in some capacity. Nicole seems to have written him off as any kind of reliable ally, but it’s hard to believe Jeremy doesn’t have some kind of larger plan for helping Team Earp in action here. Given that Wynonna is snatched by military-types in the final moments of the episode, Jeremy might understand a threat to Team Earp that we have yet to. Or maybe, given that Chrissy gave him the scoop on his friends’ return to Purgatory, he was the one who gave the order to bring Wynonna in? Either way, I miss Jeremy. I hope we dive into his mystery sooner rather than later.

Additional thoughts.

Seriously. What the fig, Chrissy Nedley?

Martina Ortiz-Luis is killing it as Rachel. I’m glad to have her as part of the ongoing cast. The scene that sees Wynonna thanking Rachel for taking care of Nicole while they were gone and Rachel thanking Wynonna for noticing was an episode highlight.

I hope Casey sticks around too.

While the introduction of the new Purgatory is only somewhat successful (partially because I never had a great grasp on how the old Purgatory actually operated past the Homestead, the bar, and the police department), the introduction of demon club Glory Hole rocks. Doc has serious chemistry with the proprietor of the club (played by Lost Girl‘s Noam Jenkins), stirring up that always-lingering question regarding the nature of Doc’s relationship with Wyatt Earp. (They were in love, right?)

Mercedes is working at the Glory Hole, pretending to be a demon. Never change, Mercedes.

Wynonna is trying to keep the fact that she no longer has Peacemaker on the dl, presumably because she assumes that it keeps the demons somewhat afraid of her. Personally, I think Wynonna has the potential to be terrifying whether she has Peacemaker or not, though it makes sense that she would presume so much of her power lies not in herself, but in the gun/Curse.

It’s interesting that Wynonna, Doc, and Waverly were all gone for the same period of time, even though Wynonna was in The Garden for a far shorter period of time. This suggests that it’s not that The Garden has a different temporal pace, but rather that the wormhole or portal or whatever that brings people back from The Garden to The Ghost River Triangle has something to do with the temporal distortion. I don’t know. Time dilution and/or travel makes my brain hurt!

It is interesting, however, that both The 100 and Wynonna Earp have some time dilution going on this season. (Although, I am assuming that it will be way less important in Wynonna Earp, but who knows?) The Magicians also had this as part of their setting, as Fillory had a different temporal pace than Earth. It’s particularly interesting to see this kind of time travel/time dilution storylines during this period of pandemic and general societal upheaval where time has seemed to slow down with the changing of our status quos. It’s honestly highly relatable and a little cathartic to see our TV characters go through something similar. It’s like, “Oh, you looked away for a second and your whole world changed? Same.”

This also makes me wonder not only where, but when Eve ended up. As in, how much time has passed for her in whatever intersection of time-place she ended up in? We better hope she didn’t end up in our past. That is the time travel equivalent of a head start.

This episode was directed by Melanie Scrofano, and she did an amazing job. That is two full-time jobs she pulled off exquisitely in the production of this episode.

Wynonna’s hair always looks so good.

I, um, had to Google “bush party,” even though I grew up in a rural area where this was the main kind of high school party. But we just called them “parties.” Now I am learning about Ontario slang.

Kate hasn’t come back.

What happened to Robin?! Finish the sentence, Nicole! Is his mysterious absence related to why Jeremy is working for Black Badge again?

“Vacation is over, assholes. It is time… for a Holliday.”

I want some of Waverly’s vegan chili.

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