#thanksgiving day 2018

[tomhardymyking]

Today is 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐚𝐲 🙏🏻!

Here in Spain it's not celebrated, and I don't know if it is in the United Kingdom 🤔 Forgive my ignorance 😅

This post will be to thank 𝗧𝗼𝗺 once again for his existence, for the way he is, and for his work (which is all wonderful) 🥰💖

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¡Hoy es el 𝐃𝐢𝐚 𝐝𝐞 𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐨�� 𝐝𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐬 🙏🏻!

Aquí en España no se celebra, y no sé si en Reino Unido sí 🤔 Perdonad mi ignorancia 😅

Esta publicación será para agradecer a 𝗧𝗼𝗺 una vez más por su existencia, por cómo es, y por sus trabajos (que son maravillosos todos) 🥰💖

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[strictlyfavorites]

Happy Thanksgiving!

2018 Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade The Rockettes

Swimsuit model Emily Ratajkowksi spent Thanksgiving the way she knows best - in paradise wearing a cheetah-print bikini from her new bikini collection.

[something-tofightfor]

Smutsgiving 2023: Cranberry Sauce / Ezra

Pairing: Ezra x Female Reader (Root Pearl pairing)

Word Count: 2,107

Warning: M.

Author's Note: Who's surprised that Ezra's is the longest so far? Certainly not me. This one is a little ... different than the others, but it still fits.

Takes place in the Root Pearl universe, but is well after where the current storyline left off.

Smmary: Having a get together with Ezra's friends and former bandmates brings things to a boil.

You were nervous, even though you knew that you didn’t need to be. 

The three of you were on your way to a holiday gathering with Ezra and Cee, carefully wrapped dishes in the back of the car and a bottle of wine cradled between Ezra’s knees in the passenger seat.

“There won’t be too many people you do not know here today.” He reached over, squeezing your thigh. “I can feel how tense you are.” 

“It’s not the number of people, it’s … who's gonna be there.” Sighing, you turned down the side street. “Well, one specific person anyway.” 

“She won’t bother you.” Cee spoke up, leaning forward and poking her head between the seats. “And if she does, she’s going to have to say something to me too.” 

“Not necessary, Cee.” You mumbled the words but couldn’t hide your smile at her declaration, your gaze rising to the rearview mirror to meet hers. “But thank you.” 

“Any time.” She settled back, grinning. “And I mean it. What she did before the benefit was fucking awful, I don’t know why Luke’s family even invited her.” You didn’t either, but kept quiet. It wasn’t your place to speak up about Inumon, or her continued involvement with other people. And Ezra doesn’t want anything to do with her so that’s all that matters. 

His hand stayed on your leg until you parked. Even then he was reluctant to remove it, letting it linger there until you whispered his name, settling yours atop it and squeezing. 

But as the three of you headed for the front door, Cee leading the way and you and Ezra following close behind, he leaned over, speaking directly into your ear. “No matter what she says, remember who I am here with … and who I will be leaving with.” 

It didn’t need to be said, and part of you knew that Ezra probably wasn’t a fan of your unease and the resulting need to reassure you. But the fact that he was going out of his way to do it spoke volumes - and helped you to relax. 

Luke’s wife Tamzin welcomed you into the house with open arms, the woman hugging you tightly and following up with similar gestures for Ezra and Cee before she invited you to come and get what you brought settled in the kitchen - and on the tables. 

You agreed, leaning over to kiss Ezra on the cheek before following her, the man’s brown eyes locked on your face as you pulled away. 

Inumon wasn’t in the kitchen when you stepped into it, which was a relief. 

For the next twenty minutes, you and Tamzin made small talk as you transferred dishes and put them on the tables, checked things on the stove and in the oven, and positioned bottles of ale and wine for easy access. 

Once everything was done except for putting down names to denote seating, you went into the main room, a bottle of ale in hand. Your eyes zeroed in on Ezra, the man deep in conversation with one of the members of The Fringe and his wife, and then on Cee, the girl laughing with Luke’s son. But you also saw Inumon, sitting on the smaller couch across from Ezra and talking with someone you didn’t recognize, though she never looked away from the man while she spoke. Of course. Of course she’s in here. 

“I saved you a seat.” Ezra’s voice interrupted your thoughts, and when you made eye contact, you saw that he looked amused, one brow raised. “It’s next to mine, but I’m sure you won’t mind.” 

“Not at all.” you headed straight for him, lowering yourself onto the cushion and leaning forward to set the bottle down. “It’s my favorite place to be, actually.” His smile widened, and even though you saw Inumon’s eye roll, you paid no attention to her. 

But as luck would have it, she was seated across from you and Ezra at the table, the woman sliding into her seat before you did and looking up expectantly as you pulled your chair back. “We didn’t get a chance to say hello before.” You knew it was just her accent, but it felt like she was mocking you, one eyebrow arched and her lips set into a smirk between sentences as he toyed with the stem of her wine glass. “You -”

“Hey, Inumon.” Cee spoke up first, the girl walking directly behind her chair from the other room. “Long time, no…. Whoops.” You caught it - and you knew that Ezra had, too; the way Cee altered her path so that her footsteps carried her directly into contact with the back of the dark-haired woman’s chair. The impact jostled both of them, but only Inumon was bothered, the motion causing her hand to jerk, the contents of her full drink sloshing over the edge of the glass and onto the table - and her lap. “I’m so sorry. I hope it didn’t spill too much.” 

She barely contained her laughter when she continued to her seat, and you took great pleasure in watching Ezra press his lips together, eyebrows disappearing into the unruly mop of hair on his head as they shot up. Oh, Cee. Thank you. 

As Inumon mopped up her plate - and her bare forearm, Ezra and Cee settled in - Cee next to you on one side and Ezra on the other - conveniently placed at the end of the table so that he had ample room for the permanent prosthetic that he was still getting used to.

You made a mental note to thank Tamzin later, but then turned your attention to the head of the table, where one of the members of the Fringe had stood to make a toast. 

He covered many things, but when the speech got to the portion in remembrance of Damon and Luke, the room got even quieter. Without thinking you reached for Ezra and Cee’s hands, squeezing them in reassurance. You didn’t know who gripped you tighter - but it didn’t matter, because only moments later, the toast ended and the other guests began moving to pass around plates and serving dishes.

For a few minutes, the room was filled only with the sounds of people eating and conversing, and you let yourself relax as you enjoyed the meal, too. But the comfort was too good to last.

When Inumon spoke up, saying your name, you barely managed to keep from gritting your teeth. “You brought that canned cranberry, right?” 

“Yes.” Meeting her eyes, you nodded. “Mostly for myself because I’m used to having it, but I figured that maybe someone else would like it, too.” 

“Why?” She cocked her head to the side, staring at you. “Who would want something that’s not as good as the real thing.” What? You blinked, opening your mouth to reply, but she continued. “The original is always better.” Her eyes moved to Ezra and then back to you as she spoke. “Don’t you think so, Ezra? There’s no substitution for the best, for what people want. Things can’t just be replaced.” 

“What is best often happens to be subjective, Inumon.” He lifted a bite of food to his mouth, taking a deep breath and then sighing as he chewed. “For some people, it -”

“For example, you.” She leaned in, lowering her voice. When your attention flicked briefly to her friend, the other woman at least had the grace to look uncomfortable, her eyes darting around the table to ensure that no one was paying attention. But she’s not telling Inumon to stop. She’s not … “You can’t be replaced. You can’t take a backseat to a new guitar player and expect people to like it. What was the point of the transplant if you’re not going to use -”

“Enough.” Flattening your hands on the table, you ducked your head and leaned in, eyes locked on Inumon’s face and the snarl barely hidden from your voice. “Ezra is not a fucking side dish, Inumon. No one is trying to replace him or… or upgrade him, and my bringing Kevva-damned cranberry sauce in a can has nothing to do with anything.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing. You didn’t know him before. When he was….” She paused, squaring her shoulders and looking back at Ezra. “Himself. He never would have allowed anyone to -” 

“Inumon, don't you -” Cee started to speak but was interrupted when Ezra reached behind you and settled a hand on her shoulder, his head shaking. She stopped speaking at the his touch, but it wouldn’t be so easy for you. 

“He’s still himself, you racasmilia, and he always will be.” You scoffed. “You didn’t have any issue with him or his choices when you released those pictures, did you?” She opened her mouth, but you continued, keeping your voice as low as you could without making it impossible for her to hear you. “And I’m not missing anything, Inumon. Because I wouldn’t care if he never picked up a guitar or a microphone ever again. There’s more to him than his fucking musical career.” 

Mumbling the words “excuse me” to Ezra and Cee, you pushed away from the table and headed into the kitchen, ignoring the watchful eyes of the others in the room, though you saw sympathy in Tamzin’s expression. But you invited her so this is your fault, too. 

The door swung shut behind you, and once alone you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. I cannot believe her. How dare she … But when you released the breath, you realized that it wasn’t about you and your feelings - it was about Ezra, and the way that the woman’s words and assumptions were likely making him feel. 

It had been months of careful progress with him - throughout his physical therapy and the learning process that came with using his temporary prosthetic. The permanent one had been a whole new adventure and even though he was more confident than he had been immediately after surgery, there were still times he doubted himself. And this can’t help, it… 

Gasping when you felt someone wrap their arms around you from behind, you froze, only relaxing when you smelled Ezra’s cologne, your hands moving to cover his forearms. “I’m sorry, Ezra. I shouldn’t have -”

“Turn around.” It was only two words but you complied immediately, spinning to face him, ready to continue your apology. 

He didn’t let you, the man surging forward and colliding with you, his motion carrying you a few steps backward before you caught your balance, arms winding around his neck. “Ezra, wh -”

“No one has ever stood up for me that way and meant it. You have my unending gratitude.” He spun you so that your back was to the door and then urged you toward it, his hands sliding to your hips to guide you. “So few people see me as more than -”

“I do.” You whispered the words, stroking your thumb over his cheek. “And I’ve been looking for a reason to go off on that -”

He kissed you hard then, moving even closer and caging you in against the door, palms pressed against the painted wood. You let him, closing your eyes and sinking into it, lips parted - and Ezra took full advantage, his tongue sliding between them and meeting yours at the same time his hips jerked forward, a quiet moan escaping from deep in his throat.

You knew that sound - and knew it well, and even though it took every ounce of self control you possessed, you pushed him away, gasping for breath. “Ezra, we’re in someone else’s kitchen, and there are fifteen -”

“You think I care?” He leaned in again, nipping at your lower lip. “Because I certainly do not. And right now, the only thing I’m thinking about is you and how much I want to -” 

You didn’t care either.

But in the interest of the people there that weren’t Inumon, you groaned and put one hand on the center of his chest, mumbling his name. He’s making this so damn hard. “If Cee wasn’t out there, I’d consider it.” 

That made him laugh, Ezra briefly pressing his forehead to yours before he stepped away, sighing. “Understood.” He lifted his right hand one more time, cupping your cheek without hesitation and pulled you in for a gentler kiss, letting it linger. “And I meant it before. Thank you.” 

“Any time, Ezra.” You squeezed his hip and then slipped out from beneath his arm, reaching for the doorknob. “Now let’s go back out there and finish dinner. The sooner we eat, the sooner we can go back to your place.” 

—  

[lionblaze03-2]

Yknow guys. I have my moments but honestly I’m really glad to be alive and get to experience this beautiful world... like the birds outside my window or my beloved beast bella (there is an animal!!! In my house!!! And she LOVES me!!!) and getting to see my best friend and watching tv and movies together and engaging with media and taking long car rides. Life is so beautiful and I’m so glad I never forget it too long. Every little thing that makes you feel joy is a reason to be on this earth, so cherish every last one, because you deserve it. You deserve to feel how beautiful the world can be. Even if it sucks dick sometimes. Sometimes everything sucks and then you see a cardinal out the window competing with another for a female and everything’s okay again. Theres joy in every day, so please go out there and feel it as hard as you can, embrace everything that makes you happy. Live. We deserve it.

[reasoningdaily]

My former U.S. Track and Field teammate Tori Bowie, who was found dead in her home in Florida on May 2, of complications related to childbirth at 8 months pregnant, was a beautiful runner. She was effortless. At the Rio Olympics, I ran the second leg of the 4 x 100 relay. Tori was the anchor. When she got the baton, I remember thinking, “it’s over.” She just accelerated. When she crossed the finish line, I couldn’t wait to run over to her to celebrate. It was her first, and only, Olympic gold medal.

She also picked up a silver (in the 100-m) and bronze (200-m) in Brazil. The next year, at the 2017 World Championships in London, Tori won the 100-m title, earning the title of “world’s fastest woman.” Tori started out as a long jumper. So seeing her thrive as a sprinter was a huge deal. She was just such a bright light, and people were getting to see that.

Tori grew up in Mississippi and had this huge Southern accent. She didn’t take herself too seriously. You felt this sense of ease when you were around her. I last saw her in early 2021, in San Diego, where she was training. She gave me the biggest hug; something about her spirit was just very, very sweet. I felt her sweetness come over me that day.

Tori was 32 when she died. According to the autopsy, possible complications contributing to Bowie’s death included respiratory distress and eclampsia—seizures brought on by preeclampsia, a high blood pressure disorder that can occur during pregnancy. I developed preeclampsia during my pregnancy with my daughter Camryn, who was born in November 2018. The doctors sent me to the hospital, where I would deliver Camryn during an emergency C-section, at 32 weeks. I was unsure if I was going to make it. If I was ever going to hold my precious daughter.

Like so many Black women, I was unaware of the risks I faced while pregnant. According to the CDC, in 2021 the maternal mortality rate for Black women was 2.6 times the rate for white women. About five days before I gave birth to Camryn, I was having Thanksgiving dinner with my family. I mentioned that my feet were swollen. As we went around the table, the women shared their experiences during pregnancy. My cousin said she also had swollen feet. My mom didn’t. Not once did someone say, ‘oh, well, that’s one of the indicators of preeclampsia.’ None of us knew. When I became pregnant, my doctor didn’t sit me down and tell me, ‘these are things that you should look for in your pregnancy, because you are at a greater risk to experience these complications.’

That needs to change, now, especially in light of Tori’s tragic passing. Awareness is huge. Serena Williams had near-death complications during her pregnancy. Beyoncé developed preeclampsia. I hate that it takes Tori’s situation to put this back on the map and to get people to pay attention to it. But oftentimes, we need that wake-up call.

The medical community must do its part. There are so many stories of women dying who haven’t been heard. Doctors really need to hear the pain of Black women.

Luckily, there’s hope on several fronts. Congress has introduced the Momnibus Act, a package of 13 bills crafted to eliminate racial disparities in maternal health and improve outcomes across the board. California passed Momnibus legislation back in 2021. These laws make critical investments in areas like housing, nutrition, and transportation for underserved communities. Further, several pharmaceutical companies are making advances on early detection and treatment of preeclampsia.

Three gold medalists from that 4 x 100 relay team in Rio set out to become mothers. All three of us—all Black women—had serious complications. Tianna Madison has shared that she went into labor at 26 weeks and entered the hospital “with my medical advance directive AND my will.” Tori passed away. We’re dealing with a Black Maternal Health crisis. Here you have three Olympic champions, and we’re still at risk.

I would love to have another child. That’s something that I know for sure. But will I be here to raise that child? That’s a very real concern. And that’s a terrifying thing. This is America, in 2023, and Black women are dying while giving birth. It’s absurd.

I’m hopeful that things can get better. I’m hopeful that Tori, who stood on the podium at Rio, gold around her neck and sweetness in her soul, won’t die in vain.

—as told to Sean Gregory

[personinthepalace]

#LEGALLY BLONDE SWEEP PLEASEE via @hasbleedtodeathunderourknife

Discuss in the tags whether you like the musical or the movie more

[enigmaticxbee]

Tropes & More - Fic Recs

All the tropey-goodness!

Body-Swap:

Underneath Your Skin by crescentmoon222 - Dreamland AU, NSFW

What if Feels Like for a Girl by @mldrgrl - Dreamland AU, NSFW

Dreamland III by @admiralty-xfd - Dreamland sequel

Flea Market Economy by Punk

I’ll Show You Mine If You Show Me Yours by Tv_Saved_The_Teenage_Girl

Masters of Time by @sisterspooky1013 - time travel to 1960s Masters of Sex, NSFW

Times Colliding by onlytheinevitable- time travel 1998/2018 body swap, NSFW, WIP

Cubed by Louise Marin - Scully wakes up as an alternate version of herself, NSFW.

Parallel by @sisterspooky1013 - Scully wakes up as an alternate version of herself, NSFW.

Fake-Dating:

Never by Allison Kinney - Undercover, NSFW

Diversion by @sisterspooky1013 - Stakeout, NSFW

Just Another Dinner Party by @somekindofseizure - Undercover at a swingers party during Arcadia

Amish Country by Lolabeegood - Undercover with the Amish, NSFW

We’re Married Now by @skinfull - Undercover in a cult, NSFW

Hallowed by onlytheinevitable - Undercover in a cult, NSFW

More Than a Feeling by @sisterspooky1013 - Undercover at a carnival, NSFW

Undercover Swing by 2momsmakearight - Undercover at a sex party, NSFW

It’s Just Pretend by @storybycorey - Undercover in a motel, fake sex turning into real sex, NSFW

The Marriage Spectacular by @cecilysass - Lost FBI agents. Stormy weather. A marriage retreat in a mountainside inn with one room available.

The Newlywed Game by onlytheinevitable - While going out for dinner, Scully runs into an ex and Mulder valliantly pretends to be her husband. However, that little lie traps them into having to play the Newlywed Game in front of a bunch of strangers and they have to navigate admitting feelings they haven't even admitted to themselves.

Baseball Metaphors by @leiascully - Scully runs into an ex and they pretend to be dating, NSFW

Just Go With It by @skinfull - Mulder runs into old high school classmates and they pretend to be married, NSFW

The Annapolis Grant by @slippinmickeys - AU, Scully pays Mulder to play the role of her boyfriend, NSFW

Wedding/FBI Ball Date:

Plus One by @alienqueequeg - Mulder convinces Scully to let him be her plus one at an old friend's wedding, NSFW

Hardball by Missy Pennington - Scully gets a sexy red dress to wear to the FBI ball when she finds out Phoebe Green will be attending

Five Ballrooms by @admiralty-xfd - Five Christmas parties. Five separate POVs.

The Twelve Tropes of Christmas by @mangokiwitropicalswirl - Christmas ball and all the tropes

Holidays:

far away and to the west by @audries - Thanksgiving with the Gunmen

at the close of the day by @audries - Thanksgiving on the road

Fairies, Skip Hence by @slippinmickeys - Christmas at the Scullys, NSFW

Shades of Winter by @piecesofscully - Christmas at the Scullys, NSFW

Marshmallow World by @agoodwoman - Christmas 1998, set Season 6, our beloved agents are working under AD Kersh. Mulder and Scully get into the holiday spirit. NSFW

Regular People by @chimerical1975 - Thwarted Christmas plans, impulsive decisions, and unexpected visitors make two extraordinary FBI agents into regular people. NSFW

Chicken Dinner by @cecilysass - Dinner at Mrs. Scully’s. Mulder overhears Maggie speaking to her friends about her daughter’s relationship with her partner. What he hears floors him.

Gingersnap by @cecilysass - Holiday baking, NSFW

if the fates allow by @all-these-ghosts - Christmas with Mulder and Scully, 1993-2016

Birthdays by @syntax6 - seasons 1 through 7

One Bed (see Faking Dating above too):

Let’s Play a Game by @danasculllie - Motel room Truth or Dare, NSFW

Truth or Dare by Adrienne - Mulder and Scully have a wicked game of Truth or Dare while sharing that hotel room in Rain King. NSFW

Twenty-Questions and a Winter Storm by @danascully77 - NSFW

Designated Mulder by onlytheinevitable - Mulder had always wanted to see what Scully would be like drunk, but he didn't anticipate it would finally happen on the one night they had to share a bed. NSFW

Sexy Snowed-In by @peacenik0 - Mulder and Scully are snowed-in together, will they find a way to escape their boredom? NSFW

Hot and Sticky by Megan Reilly - One hotel room, two FBI Agents...and it's a hell of a hot night besides. NSFW

One room. One bed. by spooky66 - NSFW

Free Merlot at the Cool View Motor Court by @sarie-fairy - post The Rain King, NSFW

Turn that damned thing off by @sunflowerseedsandscience - The Rain King missing scene.

Time Enough At Last by bayloriffic - The Rain King missing scene.

Conversation in the Dark by Cass - The Rain King missing scene.

Stop Me by Gina Rain - post The Rain King, NSFW

Unbidden by @phillippadgettwrites - NSFW

Bunkmates by @leiascully - There's only one hotel room, and it's got a special surprise.

Expense Report by 13th_blackbird - The Bureau conducts an audit, and Scully considers the costs.

Scully/Other:

Universal Invariants by @syntax6 - set over the course of a canon-parallel version of season 1 and early season 2 where Scully’s boyfriend Ethan who was cut from the pilot sticks around. NSFW

Early On by @sunflowerseedsandscience - Mulder and Scully are drawn to each other from the start but Scully is still with Ethan. NSFW

Homicidal Tendencies by Swikstr - Casefile crossover that pairs Scully with the detective from Homicide: Life on the Street. NSFW

You He Did Not Fail by extraordinarily_ordinary - After Scully leaves the X-Files for a position in LA a case brings them back together. Starts Scully/Other but ultimately MSR. NSFW

Original Sin by @syntax6 - post FTF Scully moves to Utah. Scully/Other but great MSR. NSFW

Arizona Highways by Fialka - Visions of Melissa lead Our Heroes on a case confirming the existence of a series of Emilys. But does Melissa really have a message, or is it all in Scully’s head? Scully/Other but ultimately MSR. NSFW

No Regrets by MystPhile - During Arcadia Scully reconnects with Detective John Kresge. Ultimately MSR but not until the very end. NSFW

Promises to Keep by Prufrock’s Love - post Requiem Scully/Skinner, I really struggled with this one, but still an interesting read. NSFW

Heart’s Desire by @malibusunset - post Two Fathers/One Son Scully reconnects with an old boyfriend during a case. My favorite Scully/Other fic - ends in MSR, but it’s probably the only fic where I’ve thought that Mulder might be the wrong choice. NSFW

La Lacuna by @aloysiavirgata - Scully explores her feelings after Milagro while investigating a murder. Scully/Other but ultimately MSR. NSFW

Mulder/Other:

The Waters of Babylon by @aloysiavirgata - As they prepare to become Rob and Laura Petrie, Mulder thinks back on his life and the paths not taken.

Seventeen by @scapegrace74-blog - Explores how Mulder's sexual relationships shaped (and mis-shaped) him as a man. Each chapter represents a different partner. Mulder/Other, ultimately MSR, NSFW

Triptych by @iconicscullyoutfits - married to Diana AU, ultimately MSR

To Love Somebody by Tess and Jacquie LaVa - In the midst of attempting to have a normal romance, Mulder's escalating feelings for Scully, and her deteriorating health due to her advancing cancer, make it impossible for him to commit... Mulder/Other but ultimately MSR. NSFW

The Guts by @wtfmulder - How would Scully react if Mulder dropped an open condom wrapper in front of her? MSR but dealing with Diana.

Dr. Scully's School for Exceptional Boys by Prufrock’s Love - post series, Mulder/Other and MSR, NSFW

One for the Road by @phillippadgettwrites - post breakup, Mulder has a girlfriend but mostly MSR, NSFW

Pregnancy/Baby/Family:

The Family G-Man by Neoxphile and FelineFemme - A double tragedy strikes Mulder the week before Christmas of 2003. What if he could go back and change things, save the son one lost and give the other the family she wanted? Could it keep them safe? NSFW

Five Years and a Lifetime by @monikafilefan @slippinmickeys - One night stand AU. Five years later, Scully and Mulder work at the same pediatric hospital, and Scully's four year old daughter bears a striking resemblance to the picture of a dark haired girl that sits on Mulder's desk... NSFW

In the Best Interest of the Child by @mldrgrl - AU When tragedy strikes, Mulder is forced to take guardianship of his young niece, but the matter is complicated by the arrival of a sister-in-law he's never met.

The Way Things Are by Sukie Tawdry - One night and their whole lives were changed forever. Season 1 AU. NSFW

Right Hand Return by humphreywrites - Scully is returned from her abduction with a baby, no memories of anything prior to her captivity and some PTSD.

All That Is Dark and Bright by @malibusunset - Emily lives AU. NSFW

Five Years and One Night by Shalimar - Scully leaves the X-Files post-Emily but gets drawn back in when Mulder discovers Emily wasn’t the only child created. NSFW

Intimacy Deux by Mojo - The one in five billion happens. NSFW

40 Weeks by @malibusunset - What if the IVF attempt in Per Manum had been successful? NSFW

A Boy and His Fox by 6hoursgirl - What happens when two FBI agents have a platonic relationship based on trust and mutual respect...and an exchange of genetic material. NSFW

The 13th Sign and 7 Days in May by Prufrock’s Love - Post-Deadalive. Mulder saw no reason for life, death, sex, Armageddon, or emotional dysfunction to stand in the way of true love.

Hurricane Season by rah and beduini - Post-Existence week at the beach with the Scully family and baby Wim. NSFW

Terra Firma series by @malibusunset - Post-Existence domestic family drama, a classic comfort read for me. NSFW

Misc:

Partners With Benefits by onlytheinevitable - Friends with benefits, NSFW

Truncated by Lysandra31 - Scully and Mulder find themselves in a tight spot. Spooning ensues.

You Send Me by @spooky-nerd - Portals keep popping up around Mulder. It's rather inconvenient until he realizes it's possible the universe is trying to tell him something.

[38sr]

How did you get where you are now? Job wise I mean? Were you a college student before doing this or did you go looking for jobs in the art industry straight away?

Oh, well it's been quite a journey for me in terms of how I got to where I am right now but here's the full timeline (?):

August 1996 - BIRTH

April 2007 - I watch Brave Story at Tribeca Film Festival, life is changed and I decide to purse animation

June 2014 - Graduate high school and accepted into Montserrat College of Art for Animation & Interactive Media

Summer of 2016 - Studied abroad in Japan attending Niigata School of Art & Design

Summer of 2017 - First animation job as an animation intern for Sesame Street (yes that Sesame Street)

December 2017 - Graduated from college (yes I graduated early due to having college credits in high school), did not have a job lined up

2018 to 2019 - Living back in NY with my parents, working on indie animation productions, creating emotes and animated intros for content creators, applying and getting rejected from many job listings, received and fail multiple storyboard tests, developing my own projects and story ideas after years of not being able to for school work

July 2019 - Fly to California for the first time, made the decision to move in order to further pursue a career in animation, at this time the Nickelodeon Artist Program were accepting submissions so I busted out boards for a personal project in 3 days and submitted it (please do not be like me, take your time haha)

September 2019 - I receive a call from Nickelodeon and I go through a series of interviews for 2 months straight

Thanksgiving 2019 - I receive news I was selected as a trainee for the Nickelodeon Artist Program

January 2020 - Move to California and begin work as a trainee at Nickelodeon (specifically for Rugrats reboot)

March 2020 - The pandemic

July 2020 - I leave Nickelodeon and move onto Titmouse as a storyboard revisionist for Star Trek Lower Decks

November 2020 - My Supervising Director for Lower Decks recommends me to the first Critical Role show Legend of Vox Machina

December 2020 - I do freelance boards for Vox Machina and get hired as a full time revisionist for season 2

January 2021 - I receive a interview request for a job on WondLa at SkyDance due to one of the directors finding my work online, I heavily consider the job

May 2021 - My Adventures of Superman is announced, I draw a piece of fanart that goes viral

July 2021 - Vox Machina season 2 wraps, I receive an offer to return to Lower Decks season 3 as well to work on X-Men 97 (I said yes to Lower Decks)

August 2021 - Spiderman Freshmen Year (now known as Your Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman) asks if I be interested to do boards, I decline not knowing what it was for

September 2021 - Showrunner for Spiderman contacts me personally for interview, my Superman fanart from May 2021 finds it way in front of the eyes of one of the creators for MAWS, still currently doing revisions for Lower Decks S3

October 2021 - Accept job offer as board artist for Spiderman, freelancing on MAWS as a character designer (first time doing this job), turn down SkyDance job offer

December 2021 - Wrapped on Lower Decks S3

January 2022 - Launch as board artist for Spiderman at Marvel Studios, still been developing my own personal projects at this point

February 2022 - Studio Shaft offers layout and genga work for Madoka Magia Record after seeing animation work of my personal projects, I accept

April 2022 - My episode of Madoka Magia Record airs, Studio Pierrot sends offer for work on Boruto

May 2022 - After my first episode on Boruto I am offered to work on Bleach Thousand Year Blood War, I accept and continue to on Bleach as of this post (3 seasons in total), Studio Mir offers me animation work for XMen 97 (I accept but only work on the first episode)

Summer of 2022 - Working on Spiderman, animating on animes, I think at some point this is when I was offered to do animation work for Castlevania Nocturne

November 2022 - Complete season 1 of Spiderman, Marvel/Disney lays me off for *reasons*, I receive an email about potential work on an unannounced show at Nickelodeon, I'm unemployed at this point

January 2023 - Collecting unemployment, freelancing on animes, trying to survive in general, also approached by Colosso to create my own course

February 2023 - Land a short gig on Big City Greens movie over at Disney TVA, Studio Mir once again offer me work but this time for second animated Witcher film

March 2023 - Land an interview as a character designer for that unannounced Nick show, didn't get the job

May 2023 - Wrap up on Big City Greens and Witcher, fly to Japan to relax (I failed)

July 2023 - Land a layout artist position at A24 (no it's not for Hazbin Hotel), Studio Mappa offer me work on Jujutsu Kaisen Shibuya Arc

September 2023 - Land another interview with Nickelodeon (this time for storyboard artist), freelancing on layouts and animation for Castlevania Nocturne S2, A24 job is stressing me out way too much so I decide to leave, MAWS hits me up for retakes on season 2

October 2023 - Wrap up at A24, I land the board artist job at Nick, I am also drowning in Jujutsu Kaisen production meltdown, complete my online course for Colosso, wrap up on MAWS S2

November 2023 - I start at Nick as a board artist, Colosso course release, I am still dying by the hands of Studio Mappa

January 2024 till now - Still boarding over at Nick and still animating on animes (I am VERY selective now about it though after JJK), I am also in therapy now Yeah so that's like, a real rough timeline over everything from school till now (and even then I am missing a lot of work details like video games and development projects due to NDAs). But pretty much what carried me was putting myself and my art out there on social media along with building relationships with people in the studios (outside of just my production) and that's how I've been able to maintain a steady work flow even when I was unemployed. Also not being afraid to develop my own ideas and share them since most of the times that gives the leadership a pretty good idea what sensibilities I have (and they just happen to match). I hope that answered your question!

[hugheses]

Jack Hughes' Draft Diaries for NHL.com

September 20, 2018 - Forward projected to be No. 1 pick discusses All-American Prospect Game

October 11, 2018 - Forward projected to be No. 1 pick preparing for first game against brother, Quinn

November 15, 2018 - Center projected to be No. 1 pick discusses recent tournament, plans for Thanksgiving Day

December 13, 2018 - Center projected to be No. 1 pick preparing for start of select camp for World Junior Championship

January 17, 2019 - Center projected to be No. 1 pick reflects on World Junior Championship performance, discusses injury

February 14, 2019 - Projected No. 1 pick discusses return to lineup, thoughts on stretch run

March 14, 2019 - Projected No. 1 pick discusses brother Quinn signing NHL contract, goals for remainder of season

April 11, 2019 - Projected No. 1 pick discusses Draft Lottery, World Under-18 tournament, brother Quinn making NHL debut

May 9, 2019 - Projected No. 1 pick discusses excitement for World Championship, disappointment with end of U-18 tournament

June 1, 2019 - Projected No. 1 pick discusses meeting with teams, not testing at NHL Scouting Combine

June 21, 2019 - No. 1 pick grateful, excited after selected by Devils

[maybe-moonchild]

11/25/2018

WC: 1.5k

𓈒⟡₊⋆∘

“So did you return it or not?” Katie sighed from where she was lounging on the couch, flipping to the next page of her magazine with an air of indifference. Her dark hair fell perfectly around her shoulders in a blowout that only a salon could achieve. 

“Nope.”

Katie sounded flatly disappointed, “Oh great, so now you have a pair of ugly pants.” You picked your head up from where it was shoved into the cushions so you could glare at her.

Flash made a face, still not quite understanding the problem. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, back up. If the pants are ugly, why are you keeping them?”

“Because,” you groaned, flopping over onto your back. You narrowly avoided crushing Katie’s magazine before she plucked it out of the way. “Like I said, they were parked right outside the mailbox and I was going to be late if I didn’t leave at that exact moment.” 

Flash’s brows furrowed even more and he was quiet for a beat as he tried to figure out what the issue was. 

He’d been paying attention to the story you’d been relaying once you arrived; he just lacked the overwhelming perception that your other friend managed to have. If Katie could always seek and find lines to read between when they were invisible to the human eye, Flash could barely read. 

Well, it just took him a little longer with a little help. 

The two of them were your people, making up the other two wheels on your tricycle. The three of you complimented each other in all the right ways, thorny where the others were soft and sweet where the others were sour. 

Which was why it was no surprise that you and Katie found yourselves hosting a wine night at the apartment you shared prior to Flash’s return to South Dakota. 

“Like they were blocking the mailbox?”

At his continued confusion, Katie snapped her magazine shut, sitting up straight so she could deter the attention to herself. It wasn’t in the vain way that she liked to pretend it was. Instead, she did it to give you a moment to take a breath or you’d start to get snappy. 

You always got snappy when this topic came up. 

“No Flash.” Even though she was speaking to him, it was obvious that it was directed at you. “Gwen’s car was parked right next to the mailboxes which meant she would’ve had to walk right in front of it to put said package in the mailbox.”

A handful of popcorn hit you in the face when you opened your mouth to interject. Kernels fell down into your shirt, distracting you so you could fish them out while she continued. 

“Which is why she has opted to throw money in the garbage for a pair of pants that look like they were cut out of a gap catalog.” Her head turned in your direction, delivering you a smug smile which you returned with a glare. “Because for someone who claims not to care about Peter Parker, you certainly do plenty of backflips to avoid him.”

You chucked a pillow at her but she ducked out of the way. 

“Oh, this again?” Flash sighed, propping his cheek in his hand in boredom of the topic. “I thought maybe something actually happened.”

That makes you do a double take at him, his hands and eyebrows raising in surrender. 

“Something did happen. Peter and Gwen were sitting in her car on my street.” 

How you’d peeked out your window prior to heading to the mailbox, only to find Gwen Stacy’s car parked right outside the Parker residence with Peter sitting in the front seat. You only watched for a few moments in the hope that they would leave but- why was he laughing so much? Nothing could seriously be funny enough that he had to keep throwing his head back with his stupid, lopsided smile-

They did not leave. In fact, they seemed more than content to chat and laugh and joke. Gwen wouldn’t even still be in town if the stupid storm plaguing the skies of the UK hadn’t delayed her flight an extra few days over Thanksgiving Break. 

It wasn’t like you actually had anything against her; quite the opposite actually, considering she was one of the most lovely people to walk the planet. 

Which just made you feel guilty at the odd, prickling resentment that prickled along your skin anytime you thought about her. 

So you decided that, instead of going out, crossing the street and walking right in front of their windshield to toss your package in the mailbox, you decided to keep the ugly pants. 

Neither of them said anything, making you question your own sanity. 

“So I couldn't put the package in the mailbox. So, yes, something certainly did happen.”

Your brows pinched together, like you were offended at the idea that it was nothing- was he not just listening? Did he not just hear about how Peter and Gwen had been flaunting themselves (inside the privacy of her car without the knowledge that you were home) like they owned the stupid spot on the road right in front of his house…

Okay so… maybe there was a hint of truth to what your friends were saying.

“It did!” You stand up abruptly to pad into the kitchen, just so you can hide the way your face screws up at the implication. Absent-mindedly searching through the cabinets for snacks gives you the time to pout without being teased.

“So? It’s winter break. They were probably just hanging out while she’s back in town before she goes back to Oxford.” With another sigh, Katie flopped back on the couch. Her tone is light in the hopes to distract you from the topic and move on to things like where the three of you should go for your last spring break or how Ned Leeds offered to carry her books around campus, again.

Flash shut his laptop and slid it away, tucking it safely in the middle of the floor where it would likely be drunkenly stepped on. This was clearly going to acquire everyone’s full attention. 

As you padded back to the living room shared by you and Katie, bottle of wine in hand, you were ready to drown in your non-existent sorrows.

“Or they were probably banging one out…” Flash snorts. That’s enough to send the remaining heads in the room whipping in his direction.

“Flash!” Katie scolded sharply and he threw his hands up in response. It’s your voice, equally loud and sharp, that makes both of your friends wince with how appalled you sound. 

“Banging?”

The wide eyed look you wore made you appear like a child discovering that Santa wasn’t real. 

Katie shot Flash a dirty look before running a hand down her face which made him cringe, shooting you an apologetic look for his bluntness. She attempted to console you with a stiff pat on your shoulder. 

“No. Not banging.” She was trying to shut that idea down before you spiraled down a rabbit hole.  Still, not even she could help but cringing herself. “... Probably not.”

“That hardly sounds reassuring!” You slumped down onto the couch, trying to sink into the cushions with a pout. 

Flash and Katie exchanged another look, expressions flat and emitting a sigh that screamed ‘here we go again’.

It’s Katie that tried to comfort you first, even if this conversation had happened a million times before and always ended the same way. 

“Here’s a thought,” she said tentatively, scooting a little closer to where you were the personification of grumbling in the corner of the couch. “Why do you care so much?”

You scowled, “I don’t.”

Flash just let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah right! Every Time you see that Gwen's liked one of his aunts' facebook posts, it ruins your whole week- OW!” He rubbed at the spot on his shin that Katie had kicked in an attempt to get him to shut up. 

“What he means,” she interjected, drawing out the words in an attempt to draw your attention back to her, “is that you do tend to… get grumpy… when Parker comes up-”

The implication made your jaw hang open almost comically. 

“I do not!”

“Do too,” your friends deadpanned at the same time. 

Clearly this had become somewhat of a routine to them since they did not pay your pouting any mind. Katie smoothed her shirt and stood, picking up the sparkling five-buck-chuck and inspecting the label like one would inspect a thousand dollar bottle of hundred year old champagne. 

“Face it babe,” She sighed, passing the bottle to Flash, who made quick work at peeling off the foil to uncork it, still sprawled out on the carpet. “Peter Parker might have been out of your life the past seven years, but he has never left your head.”

“That’s not true,” you grumble, but the sound is covered by the pop of the cork and a cheer from your friends. Their attempt to move the conversation along to something more upbeat works, shifting the atmosphere to something lighter as Katie fills three wine glasses.  

It’s like you hadn’t even denied it all.

[jordi-gali]

The Little Cloud balloon, by the art duo FriendsWithYou https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/31/arts/design/macys-thanksgiving-day-parade.html

[foundtherightwords]

As the Sun Will Rise - Chapter 13

Pairing: Grunauer (Overlord) x OFC, Beauty & the Beast retelling

Summary: After losing most of his unit in a disastrous D-Day mission, Derwin Grunauer returns to his hometown near Miami, body riddled with scars and heart heavy with guilt, only to find his neighbors shunning him due to his German name. He retreats into his family mansion and remains there, unwilling to rejoin the living, until the day Alba Reyes turns up at his door with a basket full of warm bread. As the daughter of a Cuban immigrant, Alba knows something of being an outsider, and when she offers to work for Derwin as his housekeeper, it is not only to pay off her father's debt to the Grunauers, but also because she feels some connection to the reclusive young man. When that connection develops into something more, they must overcome both the town's prejudice and their own doubts to find happiness.

Chapter warnings: none

Chapter word count: 3.2k

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

Chapter 13

Derwin noticed something had changed between him and Alba since the trip to the beach. Alba was still friendly with him, but there was now an edge to her friendliness. It wasn't exactly an unpleasant edge; not the nervous, terrible waiting of a storm, more like the breathless anticipation of the dawn after staying up all night. Still, it puzzled him and almost made him miss the earlier days of their acquaintance. Before, when she smiled at him or touched him—a casual pat on the hand over the dining table or a squeeze of his shoulder when she glanced at his work on the typewriter—it had been with easy affection, undemanding, almost unthinking. Now, her smile didn't quite reach her eyes, which remained watchful, searching him for something only she knew, and if they happened to brush against each other in the hallway, she would shrink away, grin awkwardly, and run off.

A few days after the trip, a package arrived for Derwin—though in truth, he ordered it for Alba. It was a book, The Everglades: River of Grass. He'd seen the title on a list of upcoming releases, and, thinking of Alba, had placed the order immediately. She may have turned down his offer to buy the dress for her, but he was sure she wouldn't refuse a book. True enough, her eyes lit up when he presented the book to her, and she leaned forward as if to hug him, only to pull back at the last moment and say stiffly, "I'm sure I'll enjoy it. Thank you," before walking away, clutching the book close to her chest.

Derwin longed to chase after her, to ask her what happened—he remembered nothing particularly noteworthy had occurred between them on the trip, except for that moment she mentioned his freckles—but something on Alba's face echoed the same shyness and uncertainty he was feeling inside, and it held him back.

It was almost Thanksgiving. Alba had told him, apologetically, that she would love for him to join her family, but they had been invited to celebrate with some friends from Cuba and she didn't want to impose upon the host by inviting another guest. "It's OK," he'd said. "Don't worry about me." The truth was that he felt secretly relieved to have a few days to himself, so he could gather his thoughts and not have them constantly occupied by Alba. With this strange tension between them, he didn't think he could face a whole day with her under the scrutiny of Mr. Reyes.

That morning, they greeted each other over coffee as usual, before Derwin retreated into the study to continue working on his translation and Alba went into the garden. She was very proud of how well it was growing, and her excitement was so contagious that Derwin found himself watching the rows of vegetables and herbs with interest, waiting for the day they could taste the fruits, quite literally, of Alba's labor. The young cucumbers were thick around the vines, the tomatoes were showing the first blush of ripening, and the pods of green beans and runner beans swung from the poles, ready to be harvested.

Derwin was just sitting down at his typewriter when a sharp cry went up in the garden. "No!" It was Alba, and she sounded in pain. He bolted up and rushed to the back door. "No, no, no..." Alba was still wailing, her voice full of tears.

"Alba?" Derwin shouted. "What's wrong? What's the matter?"

There was no answer. Derwin tore through the backyard and all but ran to the garden. Otto came to meet him, tail drooping sadly.

A scene of destruction met Derwin's eyes. The garden, Alba's beloved garden, which she had so lovingly planted and cared for, had been ravaged. Beans were ripped from their poles, lettuce and herbs were strewn on the ground, cucumber and tomato plants cruelly chopped up, their young fruits scattered everywhere. In the middle of the carnage was a piece of cardboard mounted on a stick, bearing the same chicken scratch Derwin had become used to—the word KILLER and a swastika in red paint. Alba was sitting on the ground, her face buried in her hands, shoulders heaving with sobs.

The sight of her distress scared him more than the destruction of the garden, and he threw himself on the ground next to her. "Alba?" he said, trying to pry her hands away so he could look at her. "Are you OK? Are you hurt?" She just shook her head and continued to weep. "Herzchen, please, talk to me." The term of endearment slipped out inadvertently, but thankfully, Alba was too upset to notice.

"I'm OK," she sniffed, finally dropping her hands. "But look at this! How could they have done this? Did you hear anything last night?"

Derwin thought back. "I did hear Otto barking a lot around... three or four in the morning, I think," he said. "But I didn't dare let him out. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. If you let him out, they may have hurt him." Alba rubbed Otto's head and wiped an ineffectual hand across her nose. "They know exactly what they're doing," she continued, her grief slowly turning to anger. "They waited until the garden was thriving and ready to be harvested to strike. This isn't just vandalism. They want to hurt you. What a bunch of... of... cabrónes!"

Derwin didn't know what cabrónes meant, but from the way she said it, he had a pretty good guess.

"But I'm not the one getting hurt, you are," he said regretfully. "I'm so sorry. All your hard work—"

She sat back with a sigh. "You're hurt, too. You don't get to eat these now. And I was so looking forward to cooking them for you."

Her lips trembled, the tears threatening to come back. Derwin looked around, trying to think of something to say, something to cheer her up.

"Look, maybe it's not so bad," he said. "The cucumbers and tomatoes are a bit young, but they're not ruined. We can still eat them. And look, the beans aren't cut. They're just ripped from the poles. The roots are still intact. We can replant them, right?"

His words made Alba look at the garden again. Derwin realized that, in her shock, she hadn't examined it closely enough and had given everything up for loss. Now she lifted each plant as carefully and tenderly as a mother touching the forehead of her sick child, and her drooped shoulders slowly lifted.

"You're right!" she exclaimed. "They were probably afraid of getting discovered, so they just slashed at things willy-nilly... They didn't even touch the herbs! I can replant the beans and the lettuce... And we can gather up the cucumbers and green tomatoes..." She looked up at him with a small smile. "I hope you like pickles."

"I love pickles." Derwin's heart lifted at the sight of her smile. "Hey, maybe we ought to thank these hoodlums," he joked, encouraged by that smile. "They saved us from having to do the harvest ourselves."

"I wouldn't go as far as that," Alba said, but she chuckled, her face brighter. Then she sniffed again. Derwin searched his pockets for a handkerchief, only to come up empty. Useless. Without thinking, he reached out, cupped her tear-stained cheek in his palm, and wiped at it with his thumb. She turned to press her cheek into his palm, and he let his hand linger on her face for a moment.

"How green your eyes are today," he whispered.

Alba stared at him, her mouth slightly open. If he just edged his thumb a little closer, he could brush it across those lips and feel how soft they were...

"Are they?" she said. "It must be because I've been crying. They just look greener because of the redness around them, and because the tears affect the light refracting off the iris."

"Oh." He dropped his hand, embarrassed. How stupid of him, to talk about her eyes at a time like this, when she'd just seen months of hard work destroyed. "That's—um—interesting."

For a moment, they sat facing each other, not knowing where to look, what to do, what to say. Then Derwin cleared his throat. "I'll find a basket and gather these up," he said, indicating the tomatoes and cucumbers on the ground, before pulling himself to his feet and limping back to the house.

***

Alba watched Derwin hurry into the house, his gait unsteady without the cane. As he vanished from sight, she sighed and started going through the wilted plants, trying to see which one was still salvageable. But her mind wasn't on it. What was wrong with her?! Why couldn't she have kept her mouth shut for once? She wished she could ask Claudia or Beatriz about this. Claudia had told her to go get him, but then again, Claudia had only been with one guy her entire life. Alba wouldn't consider her an expert. Beatriz would know what to do. Beatriz would not babble about light refraction when the man she liked was touching her face and complimenting her eyes.

Did she really like him? Yes. She could admit that to herself now. And she was certain he liked her as well. After the beach trip, she had tried to put a little distance between them, both to examine her own feelings and to test his. The yearning, diffident looks he gave her, like those of a kicked puppy who didn't know what it'd done wrong and still craved affection, could mean nothing else. Alba may not be the most sensitive and observant when it came to matters of the heart, but even she could see that.

But she was also certain that Derwin would never make a move—for all his newfound confidence, he was still so shy around her, so reticent, afraid of his own shadow. All the boys Alba had gone out with—a few in high school, and later, briefly, a GI who was in town for training; she'd been far too busy for more—had pursued her. Now she found herself in the position of the pursuer, and she had no idea what to do.

And there was the little problem of her family's debt. She didn't like to think about it, didn't like how transactional it felt, didn't like the mercenary taint it gave to her connection with Derwin. What they had was so much more special. And most of all, she didn't like to think what would happen once the debt was paid. Although she had started looking into colleges, she knew for sure that Papi would insist on her coming back to the bakery. What could she say then, to both Papi and Derwin? What excuse would she have to keep seeing Derwin?

"What am I going to do, Otto?" she asked the dog in Spanish. "If I told him how I feel, what would he think of me? Would he think that I'm terribly forward? But if I don't say something, we're just going to keep dancing around each other until we go crazy." Hearing her rueful tone, Otto gave a sympathetic woof and affectionately butted his head against her shoulder. She laughed and rubbed his ears. "Oh, why am I asking you for advice anyway? You don't even have a girlfriend."

"What are you saying to him?" asked Derwin. She hadn't heard him coming up behind her.

"Nothing," she said quickly, aware that she was turning red and cursing herself for it. "I was just asking if he likes pickles."

"I thought you were calling him crazy or something. I heard you said loco. That means crazy, right?"

Perfecto. If Derwin had started to pick up Spanish, she was going to have to be more careful about what she said to Otto.

"Yeah, I was cursing out the bastards that did this," she said, turning away to hide her flush. Thankfully, Derwin didn't ask any more questions. He busied himself with picking up the vegetables, dusting them off, and putting them into the basket, while Alba righted the bean poles and covered up the roots, praying that they still lived.

She spent the rest of the day making pickles of the young cucumbers and green tomatoes, saving some of the ripest ones for salad. Neither spoke of what happened between them in the garden, though sometimes Alba would catch Derwin gazing at her, before quickly looking away again.

That night, in their bedroom, while Beatriz was putting her hair in curlers, Alba lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Beatriz was humming "Almost like Being in Love" under her breath, and the timeliness of the song made Alba want to laugh and scream at the same time.

"Bea, can I ask you something?" she said in English. The walls were thin; she didn't want Papi to overhear them, so English would be safer.

"Sure."

"Say... you like someone."

"What's this?" Beatriz paused her rolling and turned to Alba, eyes opened wide. "Alba Reyes Alvarado, asking me for boy advice? Am I dreaming?!"

"Shut up and let me finish, will you?" Alba said, and Beatriz returned to her curlers, nodding encouragingly. "So you like someone," Alba continued. "And you're pretty sure he likes you back. But he won't do anything about it. What would you do?"

The curlers were forgotten again. "Who's the imbécil?" Beatriz asked. "Who is he to ignore my sister? Let me talk to him. I'll make him see some sense."

"Calm down," said Alba, though she was grateful to Beatriz for her support. "You'd frighten him away with your kind of 'talk'. He's a good guy, really. Just very, very shy."

"Well, whatever you do, never, ever make the first move," said Beatriz, happy to be the one dishing out advice this time. It wasn't often that Alba let her forget which one of them was the elder. "Boys will think you're easy and you'll get a reputation, and you'll never get another date."

"But how do I get him to make the first move then?"

"You just have to show him that you're interested. Compliment him. Talk to him about what he's interested in. Make his favorite food. And, if you can, maybe cry a little. If he gets to comfort you, that's when he usually asks you out." Beatriz said this last sentence with the air of one imparting great wisdom. "I don't use that very often, but I've found it very effective."

Alba had to laugh at her sister's flirting techniques. Then, remembering her own predicament, she said with a sigh, "I've done all that already."

"Aren't you going to tell me who he is?" Beatriz asked. When Alba said nothing, she looked into the mirror thoughtfully. "I bet I can guess who he is. God knows we don't meet a lot of people, stuck at the bakery all day. Can't be Frank."

Oh no. If Beatriz guessed, she would never keep her mouth shut. "You know Frank's been sweet on you for years," Alba said, trying to distract her sister.

"I know." Beatriz sounded almost wistful, and Alba hoped that her sister had seen Frank's true worth at last. "You said you've done all that for him... Wait a minute!" Beatriz stared at Alba. "It can't be... can it?"

"What?" Alba said, feigning innocence.

"Gruesome Grunauer?!"

"Don't call him that!"

"Oh, I should have known!" Beatriz crowed. "You've always defended him, even when we were kids. Of course you'd fall in love with him!"

"I am not in love with him!" protested Alba. Not yet, a voice said in her mind. She firmly hushed it up.

"That's why you're practically running out the door every morning. You love him!" Beatriz sounded positively giddy with delight now. Was she trying to tell the entire neighborhood? She would probably start chanting Alba and Grunauer sitting under a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G next.

"Stop it!" Alba hissed. "I knew it was a bad idea to ask you. Forget I said anything." She turned to face the wall.

"OK, OK, I'm sorry." Beatriz finished with her curlers and came over to sit on Alba's bed. "I won't tease. And honestly? He seems nice. Even Marty Jr. loves him."

"He is," agreed Alba, slightly appeased.

"But Papi won't like it, you know."

Alba sighed. Their father may tolerate Derwin as their landlord, but when it came to his daughters, he believed no one was good enough for them, certainly not a wounded vet with no job. "You think I don't know that?" she said. "So you must promise never to breathe a word of this to anyone, OK?"

"I promise." Beatriz squeezed Alba's shoulder. "And don't worry, you just have to be patient with him. Any man who walked for miles on a bad leg just to ask a girl to come back to him is worth waiting for."

Alba turned back to her sister, startled. She hadn't even considered it. She thought any feelings Derwin had for her had only started developing after they began spending more time together, not before. But now that Beatriz had mentioned it, she remembered the night of the storm, and even more instances before that... Could it be true? Beatriz winked at her and jumped back into her own bed with a grin.

But even as Alba's mind told her to take Beatriz's advice and be patient, her heart refused to do so. In her dream that night, she was back in the garden with Derwin, only instead of turning away and walking back into the house, he kept his hand on her cheek, drew her to him, and kissed her.

She melted into his arms. Her hands sought his body, her lips sought his mouth to return the kiss. But here her imagination failed her. The details were frustratingly vague. In her dream, neither of them said anything. He may have whispered her name, but she couldn't hear it over the buzzing of her pulse in her ears. She couldn't tell what his mouth felt like or where his hands were placed. There was only the knowing that he was kissing her and the beating of her pulse, setting her blood on fire.

And then she woke. The fire remained as a dull throbbing in her breast and between her legs. The bedclothes pressed down on her, heavy and unbearably hot. She tossed them off and went into the bathroom to throw some cold water on her flushed cheeks.

As she stared at her reflection in the dimly lit mirror, Alba realized Derwin had also done most of the things Beatriz had told her to do. He'd complimented her. He'd talked to her about her interests and even given her a book about it. The only thing left was that he had yet to cry in her presence. Could it be that he was trying to let her know that he was interested, without having to make the first move himself? How confusing human courtship rituals are! If only they could go about it like birds. Derwin could sing to her and build her a nest, and if she liked it, she would move in. That would be much simpler.

Chapter 14

The next chapter is going to be a bit earlier than usual (Friday instead of Saturday) because I have a fic I need to post on Saturday for Hellcheer Week, so keep an eye out!

Taglist: @kitkat80, @hahahafucku

[darkshrimpemotions]

I'm sitting here trying to process that it's done.

My novel. The one I started writing in 2018, before I was abruptly laid off just before Thanksgiving.

The one I've been trying unsuccessfully to finish since then, never able to get over the hump with it, never able to make the story in my head match the words coming out onto the page.

It's DONE.

A rough first draft, of course. Much editing to do.

But. And I cannot stress this enough.

I FINISHED A NOVEL. 66,060 words. A NOVEL. MINE.

I'm going to need 3-5 business days to process this.

[writingonleaves]

will you take a moment? promise me this (that you'll stand by me forever) - the blue au

universe: the blue au (clementine sandoval x hughes brothers x nico hischier)

warnings: swearing, mentions of death, more sadness than i intended originally, mentions of covid during one particular part, so so much fluff!!

title + based on: "long live" by taylor swift, "i'll always remember you" by hannah montana, "ribs" by lorde, "vienna" by billy joel, "home" by edward sharpe & the magnetic zeros and "a letter to my younger self" by ambar lucid. title from "long live"

word count: 14k

author's note: graduation / draft moments that technically take place before the first installment. though you should read the first part for context if you haven't yet! romance who? we ride and die with found family. i def made myself cry a few times writing this. happy american thanksgiving to all those who celebrate. hold your family and loved ones close. hope you all enjoy and please let me know what you think <3

2018 - dallas, texas 

i wish you love, i wish you luck

for you, the world just opens up

- “i’ll always remember you” by hannah montana

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Dallas. The time is currently 12:26 p.m. and the current temperature outside is a very toasty 91 degrees Fahrenheit.”

Clementine tunes out after that. 91 degrees? She’s gonna die when she gets out of the airport. 

As soon as she exits the plane, she follows the signs to the baggage claim, waiting for her luggage that isn’t only for this next week, but is for the entire summer as well before she returns to UCLA in the fall. After the draft, she’s heading back to Massachusetts to work in a clinic for the summer. 

Fuck, she just had her last final three days ago. She feels like it never stops. Sometimes she wishes it would. 

But she shakes her head to herself, watching as her bag comes closer. None of that now. She’s about to celebrate one of her favorite people making their dream come true. She smiles to herself as she wheels her suitcase and adjusts the straps of her backpack, not quite running but pretty close to it as she walks through the arrivals terminal of Dallas Fort Worth International Airport. 

“Clementine!” She whips her head over to see Ellen’s unmistakable blonde hair and wide smile, waving enthusiastically. Next to her is Maeve, her own mother with a more subdued smile, her carry-on suitcase beside her. They had scheduled their flights so that they’d land around the same time. To Clementine’s absolute delight, she sees Jack and Luke right before Luke comes flying at her. 

“Oof,” she groans as Luke hugs her tightly, burying his head into her shoulder. “God. You need to stop growing.”

“Never,” he mutters into her neck before letting go with a bright smile. “Hi Clemmy!”

She grins back. “Hi Lukey. I’ve missed you.”

“My turn!” She laughs as Jack shoves his brother aside and sways her around. He messed up her hair before pulling away. “I’m so pumped you’re here.”

“Me too, Jackson.” Both moms finally get to where they are and she hugs Ellen before hugging her own mother. “When did you land?”

“About an hour ago.”

Clementine cringes. “Yeah, we were delayed back at LAX. Sorry.”

Ellen waves her apology away as they start heading out of the airport, Jack grabbing her suitcase and Luke grabbing Maeve’s. “No worries. We’re just excited you both are here.”

“El, we wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Maeve says. And her mom’s right, Clementine thinks. Quinn’s getting drafted into the NHL. She can’t remember a time when this wasn’t his dream. 

“How have you been? How’s college?” Jack asks. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you in forever.”

“We literally all FaceTimed last week,” Luke says while avoiding Jack’s slap. 

“It’s not the same,” Jack whines. Clementine rolls her eyes at his tone, but he kinda has a point. FaceTimes and texts are never the same as their in-person debriefs, which have become fewer and more in-depth since all four of them are in different-ish places now (though Jack and Luke technically still live under the same roof and Quinn isn’t that far). 

Clementine feels a pang in her heart, knowing that the amount of debriefs will only get fewer and fewer as the years go on. 

“College is good,” she automatically squints against the sun the second they get outside. “Same old, same old. Didn’t fail any classes somehow, which is always a win.”

Ellen snorts. “Honey, you’re literally the smartest girl I know. I don’t think failing is in your vocabulary.”

“No, literally.” Luke adds. 

“Aw, not true. Thank you, but not true. And this weekend isn’t about me.” Clementine whips out her arm in front of Jack’s front so that he doesn’t get run over by a car. “I didn’t expect to see you two until dinner.”

Jack shrugs. “We were gonna tag along with Dad, but we already did to some of his stuff yesterday and it was so boring.”

Clementine snorts. “Well, he’s technically kind of working this weekend, no?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think it would be that boring,” Jack says. 

“You two better get used to it then,” she swings an arm around both Jack and Luke’s shoulders. “Especially you, Jacky. This is gonna be you next year.”

Jack groans, but Clementine knows he secretly loves it. “Ugh. Don’t remind me. You’re gonna be here, right?”

“Where?”

“Next year. At the draft.”

“What? Of course I will.” How dare he think differently? “And whenever Luke’s is. You guys are silly for thinking otherwise.”

“But what if you’re too busy saving lives?”

“It doesn't matter where I am. I’ll be there,” Clementine promises, as they all climb into the car. 

“Clem’s right, boys.” Maeve says, turning around from the passenger seat as Ellen starts the engine. “You can’t get rid of us that easily.” Luke responds by putting his chin on Maeve’s shoulder as she reaches up to tap his cheek fondly. “Have you all gotten the chance to see Quinn much?”

“Here and there,” Ellen says. “Media and last minute meetings with teams have been keeping him busy though.”

Clementine has naturally always known more about the hockey world than the average person purely from her circumstances, but within the last month or so — mostly when she’s been procrastinating on studying for final exams — she’s been poking around online to see people’s pre-draft predictions. Obviously, she knows they’re just speculations, but she wanted to get an idea of what the general world has been thinking of Quinn. She thinks he’s the best at everything, but she’s aware she’s incredibly biased. 

She hasn’t really talked to Quinn, or the other two, about it, knowing that it’s all they’ve been thinking or hearing about and there’s no use adding onto the noise. But Clementine wants to be prepared. From her research, people have Quinn going to places from Arizona to Vancouver to Ottawa. She’s seen Detroit a good amount. One or two said New York or Chicago. 

But at the end of the day, truly, it doesn't matter. For her at least. He’s getting drafted into the National Hockey League and Clementine brought two waterproof mascaras to prepare. 

“God, El.” Maeve puts a hand on her best friend’s shoulder. “You must be so proud.”

“It’s definitely a big week,” Ellen says. Jack puts his head on Clementine’s shoulder because she somehow ended up in the middle seat. But she doesn’t shove him off like she usually would. 

Every time she sees these boys — this family — again, she feels more grateful to have them.

“Thanks for picking us up,” Clementine says. “You really didn’t have to.”

“Oh, it was nothing.” Ellen says. “Now tell us about college, honey. Only one more year to go! Well, of undergrad at least.”

��..

Later that night, they’re about to go inside a nice restaurant for dinner when Clementine squeals, launching herself at Quinn. She feels his laughter as she squeezes tight and she holds on longer than normal. 

“Hey Clem,” he says. 

She pulls back and smiles, before hugging him again. “Hi Q.”

“It’s so good to see you,” he says, as Clementine lets go to let him hug Maeve, who sways him. Clementine thinks she sees her mother’s eyes water. 

Clementine turns to beam at Jim. “Hi Jimmy!”

“Hey sunshine,” he says with a laugh, hugging her and kissing her on the cheek. “Glad you and your mom made it.”

“Of course.” They all file into the restaurant and take their seats. She sits inbetween Quinn and Ellen with Jack directly across from her. She narrows her eyes when he kicks her foot and purposefully avoids her eye contact. 

She turns to Quinn with a wide smile. “Look at you. You’re such a star.”

Quinn laughs nervously. “What are you talking about?”

“We’re here. In Dallas. To watch you get drafted. This is a big deal!”

“Are you gonna cry?” Luke teases. 

Clementine snorts. “Of course I am. Stupid question, Lukey. I’m gonna be crying all weekend.” She wraps an arm around Quinn and leans in for a side hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to come to see you play at Michigan this year. I’ll try my best next season.”

“What?” Quinn asks, genuinely confused. “It’s okay. I-I didn’t expect you to. You’re busy at school.”

She shrugs, thanking the waitress for pouring out her glass of water before turning back to Quinn. “I want to, though. Jack and Luke and even Trevor keep texting me that I need to come to one.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Quinn says. And Clementine knows he means it too, the sweet boy. “I’m serious. You already stream the games and that’s completely unnecessary.”

“Sorry I want to support my best friend slash brother.”

Quinn pouts, “Well now I feel like an asshole.”

Clementine just smirks as everyone looks over the menu.

Dinner is simply wonderful. The food is yummy but the company is even better, as she finds herself laughing loudly at all of Ellen’s classic stories and Maeve bouncing off of her old friend seamlessly. Clementine just giggles under her breath as she watches Jim sit there in amusement and sometimes exasperation, ordering a second beer before their main courses even come. The boys are the boys, lively as ever and filled with love. The feeling of anticipation and excitement in the air has Clementine just putting her chin on her hand, observing the love around her. 

Her father would’ve loved this. 

As if he knows that she’s about to go too deep in her thoughts, Luke pulls on her ponytail. She shoots him a look as she’s swallowing her bite of gnocchi. “What?”

He beams. “Nothing.”

She rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless. Luke will always be her baby, but it’s moments like this when she realizes that he’s growing up so fast. As Quinn laughs at something his dad said and she watches Luke’s eyes drift towards him, she bites her lip. Soon enough, it’ll be Luke in his oldest brother’s shoes seeing what team will draft him. 

She blinks as a hand waves in front of her. “Earth to Clee,” Jack says. 

“What’s up?”

Jack gives her a hopeful look. “Can I try some of your pasta?”

“Cut me a piece of your steak and then we’ll talk.”

…..

The next few days, Clementine and her mom explore Dallas. Ellen, Jack and Luke join them when they can, Jim comes on the rare time that he doesn’t have meetings and Quinn is just too busy to join at all. Clementine’s surprised Ellen, Jack and Luke are even tagging along with them. But she welcomes it. 

Until Jack is nudging her way too close to the edge of the sidewalk and she stumbles. Luke just laughs and both Ellen and Maeve don’t see it because they’re walking up ahead. Assholes. 

The day of the draft comes quickly, and her and her mom are staying in the same hotel the Hughes family is. They get ready right after lunch, as Maeve and Clementine take charge of being the communication liaison for the rest of the Hughes family who’s here on this special day to let Ellen and Jim handle what they need to. Ever since the day Ellen introduced Maeve to her family, Maeve’s become one of them. Clementine smiles as she watches Geegs, Ellen’s mom, and her mom hug, opening her own arms happily when it’s her turn. 

“Hi Sweetie.”

“Hi Geegs,” she lets the older woman place her hands on her cheeks. 

“You look more like your father the older you get. Beautiful.”

Clementine swallows as she reaches up to squeeze her pseudo-grandma’s wrists, before turning to greet the various other family members. Most of them she knows, some she doesn’t. Many she hasn’t seen since she went to college. 

She volunteers to wait downstairs for everyone to come while her mom makes a few trips to and from the hotel room where Ellen, Jim, Quinn, Jack and Luke are. Once she’s 99% sure everyone is at the hotel, she makes the trip up to the room herself. In the elevator mirror, she glances at her outfit. A blush pink wrap dress with white heeled sandals. She’s decided to keep her hair down, a hair elastic around her wrist that will no doubt be used the second she steps outside into the Dallas heat. Earrings that Ellen gave her for her 18th birthday are dangling from her ears.

And of course, the three friendship bracelets tied around her left wrist. They don’t match any part of her outfit, but it doesn’t matter. She rubs over them with her right thumb as the elevator door opens. 

When she knocks on the door, it’s swung open immediately by one of their many cousins. Emily, who can’t be more than five years old, immediately wraps her arms around Clementine’s legs.

Clementine laughs, maneuvering carefully so that she can shut the door behind her before bending down to fully hug the girl. “Hi Em.”

“Hi Clee!”

“How are you?” Clementine stands back up. “You look so pretty.”

“Thank you,” Emily reaches out to tug at Clementine’s hand and she obliges. “Everyone’s been looking for you.”

“Really?” Clementine asks skeptically as she follows the young girl down the short hallway.

“Well, maybe just me.” They come to a stop and there’s a big call of her name echoed throughout the room. Clementine smiles bashfully. The Hughes extended family has always been nice to her, but this isn’t her day. She eyes the camera out of the corner of her eye and blinks.

Sometimes she forgets that the three boys she calls her brothers have outside attention on them. Which is dumb, because duh. But she forgets they’re not just… Quinny, Jacky and Lukey. 

Though today, out of all days, nothing will let her forget. She thinks she’s okay with that. 

The sound of Luke calling out her name puts her a bit more at ease. “I was starting to think you got lost.” She rolls her eyes, ignoring him as she gets pulled into hugs. 

She eventually stops in front of her mother, who just raises an eyebrow and lowers her voice. “You have the cufflinks?”

She nods, blindly reaching into her purse and feeling around for her small gift for Quinn. “Yeah. I’ll give it to him when he starts getting dressed.”

Jim, who overhears the exchange between mother and daughter, eyes them suspiciously. “Cufflinks? Mae, you already got him-”

“Not from me,” Maeve sings with a mischievous smile. “Technically, this one is all Clem.” Jim rolls his eyes as Clementine smiles innocently, before she gets pulled into a conversation with Lara, one of the aunts. 

She notices immediately when Quinn is ducking into the attached bedroom to change and quickly scurries in his direction. She stops in the doorway, watching as Quinn starts unzipping the garment bag that’s holding the suit that Maeve gifted him for this very day. “You have a second?” Clementine says. 

Quinn turns around quickly with a small smile. “Of course.” Clementine walks in and reaches into the outside pocket, taking out the small black pouch. Immediately, Quinn is shaking his head. “Clem, no.”

“You don’t even know what it is!”

“I don’t have to. Clem, the fact that you’re here and I’m wearing a suit your mom made me. That’s enough. That’s more than enough.”

Clementine pouts, “It’s never enough. Open it.” With a skeptical look, he carefully takes the pouch for her hands and opens it. He gently lays the cufflinks out on the palm of his hand. They’re silver, a Q and an H written out in cursive on each. “It’s nothing too crazy, but-”

“It’s perfect,” Quinn breathes out. He closes his fest and looks up, pulling Clementine into a very tight hug. “Thank you so much.”

She can feel herself starting to tear up. Dammit. “I’m so…god, I don’t know.”

He pulls away and laughs. “You’re already crying?”

“I’m trying not to,” she whines, watching as he puts the cufflinks back into the pouch and places them on a nearby table. She clears her throat. “I’ll let you get ready.”

She smiles at him one last time before turning around to walk out of the room. “Clem?” He says.��

She whips her head back around. “Yeah?”

“I love you.” 

She swallows and puts a hand up. “Don’t,” she says, trying to keep her voice steady. He laughs and she laughs with him. “I love you too, Quinny. So much.”

He nods and she leaves the room and enters the other bedroom. Immediately, she’s met with Jack. He takes one look at her watery eyes and cackles. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Jack’s eyes widen as he clasps his watch around his wrist. “Little ears!”

“You’re a big boy. You can handle it.” She sits down on the edge of the bed across from him, eyeing his formal attire. Only his blazer is missing. She softens. “You look great.”

Jack beams. “Thanks, Clee! You do too.”

“You think?” She says playfully, smoothing down her dress. 

“Yes,” he says genuinely, causing her to look at him. “You look beautiful.”

She just smiles, making grabby hands at him. Jack obliges, collapsing into her for a tight hug that has a tear falling down Clementine’s face. A few other ones slip out as Luke walks in and immediately wraps himself around the two. 

The ride to the arena is quick, Maeve in charge of driving her daughter, Aunt Lara, Uncle Rich and Emily. Once they’re parked, Maeve sees a text from Ellen saying that that the Hughes family who were riding on the bus also just got there and asks if she and Clementine can meet them for a second before they all go their separate ways — the Hughes family to their spots and the others to the designed family and friends area on the other side of the arena. Maeve furrows her eyebrows, muttering about what her old friend could possibly want, but obliges.

Clementine hears the crowd before she sees them, knowing that Quinn is somewhere in the thrall. Before Clementine and Maeve can be confused about where they go, they see Ellen waving them over. 

“What’s up? Did you forget something?” Maeve asks. 

Ellen shakes her head with a smile. Suspicious. “No. Come on. They just opened the doors.”

“What?” Maeve and Clementine ask in unison as they follow Ellen. 

“Surprise! You two are sitting with us.”

“El-”

“Nope,” Ellen glares at Maeve. “No arguments. Quinn wanted you both with him when his name gets called, and it’s his day, so what he says goes.”

Clementine snorts. Dirty move pulling that. But she knows Ellen knows exactly what she’s doing. 

“Are you sure?” Clementine asks softly. 

Ellen pulls her into a side hug as they walk into the building together. “Of course, honey. You’re family. You know that.”

The only three people who are actually in their seats when the three of them go up to their row are Jack, Luke and Geegs, who all just smile and direct them both to their designated seats — Clementine inbetween Jack and Geegs while Maeve is inbetween Ellen and Jim. Maeve sits on the other side of Geegs, the seat momentarily open and Ellen immediately leaves because she’s getting signaled to do media.

Thank god that she doesn’t have to do that, Clementine thinks. She thinks she’d rather die. 

Clementina takes her seat and narrows her eyes playfully at Jack and Luke. “You little secret keepers.”

Luke laughs as Jack smirks. “Good to see you again.”

“Yeah,” she breathes out, looking around and taking in her surroundings for the first time. “This is bananas.”

“Pretty cool, isn’t it?” Luke says. And yeah, it is cool. And wonderful. But also scary? And Clementine’s not the one being drafted. 

Clementine sees Quinn and the Tkachuk brothers coming up to where they are. She’s only met Brady and Matthew a handful of times, but everytime has been as lovely as the last. Brady is immediately occupied by Jack and Luke so Clementine turns to Matthew, standing up and giving him a quick hug. 

“Hey Clementine. Long time no see,” Matthew says into her ear. 

Clementine chuckles. “Hi Matty. It’s good to see you.”

“You look beautiful. Most stunning woman in the room.”

She rolls her eyes. Fucking charmer. “The flirting didn’t work when we were 17. It’s not gonna work when we’re 20.”

Matthew pouts playfully. “At least I tried.” He smiles genuinely. “You excited? It’s a big day.”

“Yeah. It’s quite something.” They both look at Quinn and Brady and she nudges Matthew. “Big day for you guys too. I bet your parents are excited.”

“Yeah, they are. I’m sure you’ll see them later. Last I heard you were in college?”

“I am. Just finished my junior year at UCLA. One more to go.”

Matthew whistles. “Damn. You still wanna be a doctor?”

“That’s the plan.”

He shakes his head with a smirk. “Smartest Hughes by far.” She just shoves his shoulder playfully.

“Clem!” Brady interrupts them by corralling her into a hug, causing Matthew to almost fall. 

Clementine giggles. “Hey Brady. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Brady beams. Clementine finds him absolutely endearing. 

“Whatever team calls your name is lucky to have you.” Brady just keeps smiling and it’s so damn infectious.

Ellen and Jim return and Brady and Matthew take that as a signal that they should head back to their seats. Clementine smiles as the boys all exchange hugs — Quinn and Brady’s lasting longer than all the others — and settles back into her seat. Geegs offers her a bottle of water and Clementine thanks her with a grin. 

“I’m nervous,” she mutters to Geegs, so the boys can’t hear and make fun of her. 

“Me too, sweetie.” She says, patting her leg in such a grandmotherly way that makes Clementine miss her own. She catches Clementine looking down the row at Jack, Luke and Quinn, in that order and takes her hand to squeeze it. “They’re always gonna need you, you know?”

She whips her head back, Geegs with a light smile on her face. “What do you mean?” Clementine asks. 

“It doesn’t matter what team all three of them will eventually get drafted to, they’re always gonna need their big sister.” 

Immediately, Clementine shakes her head, trying not to fucking cry at an event that has nothing to do with her. “They’ve been doing just fine on their own.”

“Sweetie.” Geegs just says, looking at her with that look. 

And Clementine realizes the last time she saw that look, three years ago, a day before she was on a flight to LA, her father dying nine months prior but it feeling like yesterday. She had broken down in her childhood bedroom in Toronto, where everyone was downstairs about to have a farewell dinner to send her off. Geegs had seen her first before getting Maeve and Ellen, and then the three women were just holding Clementine and letting her cry. She had gone on a ramble about leaving home and going to LA and how she misses her dad and how her brothers are going to be so far away and are gonna forget about her. It was a lot for her at that time and the three most important women in her life helped her through it. 

She just leans her head on Geegs’s shoulder, before placing a kiss on her cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you too, sweet girl.” 

Geegs is about to say more before Jack starts incessantly tapping on Clementine’s shoulder. She rolls her eyes but catches Geegs’s knowing look before turning. “What?” Jack pouts at the snap in her tone and Clementine sighs. “Oh don’t give me that.”

“Why not? It works everytime.”

“What’s up?”

He just nudges her shoulder. “Just, I don’t know, wanna make sure you’re good.”

Clementine smiles, leaning her head on his shoulder as he rests his arm around the back of her seat. “I’m perfect.”

“You sure?”

She bites her lip. “Yeah. I just, I don’t know, not trying to bring down the mood but, I wish Dad was here, you know? He would’ve loved all this.”

Jack swallows and she feels him lean his head atop of hers. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “I was thinking that this morning, when we were all at the hotel and everything. I wish he was here too.”

She sneaks a look at Quinn, who’s chatting with his mom. “He would’ve been so proud.”

Jack hums. “Love you, Clee.”

It’s the second time she’s heard that from someone in the Hughes family in two minutes, but it still makes her emotional all the same. “Love you too, Jacky.” She breathes out and tries to gather herself. “God, can we get this show on the road? I’m getting antsy.”

Jack snorts. “Already? It’s gonna be a long night for you then.”

She narrows her eyes. “Careful. If you want me to sneak you a sip of alcohol later, you have to be nice to me.”

Jack huffs. “I can’t wait until the day I’m legal. The drinking age being 19 here is ruining my vibe.”

“Got a couple more years until that, buddy.” And then the arena lights start dimming and a tribute for the Humboldt Broncos tragedy starts. 

It begins. 

When Quinn’s name gets called seventh overall to the Vancouver Canucks, Clementine jumps out of her seat and immediately starts crying as she watches him hug his brothers, before hugging her tightly.

“I’m so proud of you, Q.” She mutters into his shoulder.

“Thanks, Clem.”

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” And she lets go to let him hug his grandmother. 

Clementine catches Ellen’s gaze right after Quinn hugs his mother and they share a watery smile, as she watches Maeve squeeze Quinn and kiss him on the cheek. As she watches him go down the stairs and give Brady a hug — she cheered extra loud when Ottawa called his name out earlier — she takes a deep shaky breath but laughs when Luke urges her to take Quinn’s seat. She sits down and squeezes Ellen’s hand, before Ellen kisses her on the cheek. 

Clementine is so overwhelmed and proud and excited for what’s to come, while also being very emotional about how much hard work it took for Quinn to get here. She’s had a front seat on seeing him grow up and it’s been the most incredible ride. 

Later, when they finally all meet up with Quinn again at one of the suites in the arena, she’s about half a vodka cranberry in and just watches all his admirers greet him, the Canucks jersey and hat adorning him nicely. When he finally comes up to her, she beams. 

Quinn laughs as he hugs her, “Already starting to drink?”

“It’s a big day,” she says, pulling away to look him up and down. “Holy shit, dude.”

“Careful. I’m mic’ed up.”

She rolls her eyes. “They can bleep that out. I’m so happy for you. How you feeling?”

“Good, good.” That’s all the words they exchange before other family members rightfully step in to offer their congratulations.

She knows it won’t fully sink in until later, probably when he makes his NHL debut. But what a special day that will live in Clementine’s memory forever.

(It’s not until they’re transferring the celebration to a nearby restaurant / bar does Clementine remember. She literally stops in her tracks, and Quinn, who’s walking beside her and was talking about all the media stuff he had to do, looks at her, confused. 

“Everything good?” He asks. 

Clementine digs into her purse to pull out an envelope. “Yeah. I just almost forgot.”

He takes the envelope, still confused. “What’s this?”

“It’s from Dad.” Quinn blinks at the familiar scribble of his name. “I’ve been keeping it safe this whole time.”

“Fuck, Clem. I-what’s in it?”

She shrugs. “Whatever he wanted to say to you during this moment. I got one when I graduated high school. I’m almost certain your parents probably got theirs today or will eventually from my mom.” She smiles sadly as Quinn sniffs, still staring at the envelope. “Read it later,” she urges softly. “It’ll still be there tomorrow.”

Quinn nods, putting it inside his suit jacket as they continue walking. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.” He pauses for a few seconds before hugging Clementine the tightest he’s hugged her today. “Thank you.”

“I’m just the messenger,” Clementine says, but she hugs him back. “I know he’s so proud of you, wherever he is.”

Quinn just nods into her shoulder and Clementine feels like they’re kids again)

2019 - los angeles, california

you’re the only friend i need

sharing beds like little kids

and laughing till our ribs get tired

but that will never be enough

- “ribs” by lorde

Clementine’s trying to stifle a yawn as the speeches start. At least they got over the majority of the speeches yesterday during all-university commencement. 

She knows her mom, Ellen and Jim are in the crowd somewhere, from the selfie she got from them as she was waiting to walk to her seat. Thankfully it’s not that hot out, especially for LA, otherwise she’d be more restless than she already is in her lace white dress. Having a ceremony outside is kinda nice, actually, especially with the wind brushing around her legs. 

She walks on the stage, shakes the dean’s hand, gets her diploma and doesn’t faceplant at all, so she takes that as a win. She cheers for her friends when they walk across, and she’s still trying to wrap her head around the fact that four years have gone by so slowly yet so quickly. It’s been filled with great and tough moments, but she’s grateful despite it all. 

They throw their hats up and she embraces her friends, thinking about how they’re all gonna be spread out around the country in just a few months. Clementine’s staying in California, at least, heading to Stanford for medical school in the fall, but it’ll be so different. 

But that’s the beauty of it all, right?

After exchanging a few texts with her mom to establish a meeting place, she briskly walks over to the area, eager to see her family. But she stops in her tracks when she sees Quinn, Jack and Luke. 

They’re not supposed to be here. She blinks, wondering if she’s imagining it. But she hears Luke scream her name and it’s real. All in various colors of a button up and slacks and they’re fucking here. 

“Oh my god,” she says to herself before running over — as fast as she can in these heels — and absolutely crashing into Luke. Her cap falls off but she can’t even care. Jack’s next and hearing his laugh so close to her ear makes her fully start sobbing. By the time Quinn is swaying her side to side and handing her a huge bouquet of flowers “from all three of us,” she’s afraid her eyeliner is ruined. 

She quickly hugs her mom, Ellen and Jim, accepting two more smaller bouquets and turns back to the boys. “You guys are not-how are you here?”

“This was the plan all along,” Quinn laughs. “Come on, Clem. We weren’t gonna miss this.”

“B-but you’re supposed to be, I don’t know, somewhere! Jack, you’re supposed to be doing whatever the hell people do a week before their draft. And Luke, I swear you told me you had a tournament.”

Everyone’s laughing at her disbelief. “Just a few white lies here and there,” Jack says with a proud smile. “Quinn’s right. We wouldn’t miss this.”

“Congratulations, Clemmy!” Luke beams and Clementine wants to squeeze his fucking cheeks. “You didn’t trip walking across the stage.”

“And isn’t that a relief,” Jim jokes. 

Clementines points at the parents in mock accusation after adjusting her hold on all the flowers and her diploma. “You guys knew about this all along, didn’t you?”

“Of course we did,” Maeve rolls her eyes with a grin. “They’ve been planning this for months. Jack literally said he wouldn’t go to Worlds if it was at the same time as your graduation.”

She whacks him lightly across the back of his head with her diploma. “Stupid.”

“Hey!” Jack whines, rubbing the back of his head. 

“Okay, pictures! Before Clem completely cries her makeup off.” Ellen exclaims as they all laugh. Pictures take way too long but Clementine can’t even complain, even when Jack blows raspberries on her and she wants to strangle him. 

As they all walk around campus, Clementine giving an unofficial tour, she points out her old residences, where she used to study, where she’s cried, where she’s laughed. This campus means so much to her and houses so many memories that they’re not a part of. She also gets updates since the last time she saw them over her brief winter break. Luke officially committed to the NTDP, Quinn made his debut with the Canucks that she’s still upset she couldn’t make it for, both Quinn and Jack went to the World Championships, not to mention that Jack’s draft is literally in a week.  

They’re so interested in hearing about her last semester of college and congratulate her officially on Stanford even though Clementine thinks that’s nothing compared to what they’re accomplishing. She voices that, and Quinn immediately gives her a disapproving look that is kinda funny coming from someone younger than her and Luke rolls his eyes with the bold sass of a 15 year old.

Maybe that’s a good thing, Clementine thinks as Jack starts saying how he always talks to his friends about how his “smart, cool older sister” is gonna be a doctor and go to one of the top schools in the country. They all have their talents and they see each other’s accomplishments as the coolest thing in the world. 

She knows not everyone has that kind of support system. She is so blessed that she does, especially today. 

She’s surprised even more when she’s told her mom booked a reservation for one of her favorite farm to table places nearby for dinner, and she indulges herself with two glasses of wine, turning a blind eye when Quinn sneaks a sip. She glares when Luke tries though. Quinn’s at least closer to legal age. 

As she gets healthily tipsy, giggling at every single thing being said and Quinn subtly filling up her glass of water, a tear slips out again. Luckily, no one notices because she wipes it away very quickly.

Everything’s moving so fast. She wishes it would slow down. 

2019 - vancouver, british columbia 

slow down, you’re doing fine

you can’t be everything you wanna be before your time

although it’s so romantic on the borderline tonight

- “vienna” by billy joel

Clementine likes to think she’s more prepared this time around. But deep down, she asks herself if she really is. 

The vibe leading up to this draft compared to last year has been a bit different. While there was a good amount of focus on Quinn last year, it’s ramped so much higher this time around for Jack. She’s heard all about the hype. The draft of the Americans. The draft where Jack’s projected to go first.

And she really applauds Jack for handling it as well as he has. Clementine turns 22 in two weeks and she doesn’t think she could be as collected as Jack is at 18. But then again, all three brothers have been preparing for something like this their whole lives. 

Her and her mother are sitting with the family again with the draftees and this time it’s not a surprise. Maeve once again bought Jack’s suit and Clementine gifted him a watch this morning, and also gave him the letter from Miguel because she vowed to herself that she wouldn’t almost forget like she did for Quinn’s. Jack had just given her the longest hug. 

Jack’s been smiles all morning, confidence radiating off his skin. Clementine knows that most of that is genuine  — Jack has always worn his fearlessness the most outwardly compared to his brothers. So when he says he isn’t nervous, she believes him.

At least this time she has a clearer idea of where Jack will be. It’s either going to be New Jersey or New York. She, and everyone in the hockey world, would be shocked if he ended up in Chicago. 

New Jersey would be extra special. Her dad grew up there. So she hopes all the prediction articles she’s read are correct.

So now here they are. A different country and arena this time around. She’s sitting next to Luke and Geegs and there’s a lot more media that’s paying attention to them. Like right now, where it’s only her and Geegs at their seats because the entire Hughes family is doing media. Being on the bus with them this time around instead of driving to the arena herself, Clementine got more of a look into the behind the scenes stuff before the draft starts. She watched with pride as Jack walked down the carpet, signing autographs and probably charming every single person out there. 

As she walked into Rogers Arena, she got more nervous, smoothing down her olive green dress with her sweaty palms. She’s wearing the same white sandals she wore last year because of some sentimental thought she had in her head while figuring out her outfit. Friendship bracelets are on, hair is fully up this time in a high curled ponytail and her head’s all over the place.

But she also is distracted as Jack has wanted to introduce her to everyone. She’s met a lot of the kids in the program at least once, but it’s been awhile and it feels like she’s meeting them again. Everyone except for Alex, who has crashed some of Jack’s FaceTimes with her since he’s lived with the Hughes’ the last two years. Because of that, she’s inadvertently adopted him as another younger brother of sorts. Cole has the widest smile on his face and Clementine just wants to put him in her pocket. Trevor’s laugh is so contagious that Clementine understands why Jack always says him and Trevor are almost the same person. 

As she watches all of them together, she feels sad that she’s had to miss out on stuff like this, watching her younger brothers find their friends and their way and her only appearing in the stories the boys tell but not actually being in the stories. But what can she do? She chose to go to California for school. She’s choosing to stay in California for school. All with their full support and encouragement. 

That doesn’t mean she can’t be sad that she’s missing things back home. Wherever that is.

She snaps herself out of it though, those pangs of sadness she’s felt throughout the morning. It’s not fair on her emotions that she literally just packed her own stuff up from UCLA a week ago and now is here for one of Jack’s biggest moments. He’s so excited. She doesn’t want to cloud that. 

Jack’s ability to be so happy and excited is one of the best things about him.

Once everyone’s back to their seats, she’s bouncing her leg. Without looking, Quinn just puts a hand on her thigh to calm her down and she wonders for the 100th time in the last week when the fuck he got so observant and mature. 

(He always has been. Clementine’s just in a state of constant denial lately.) 

Jack gets picked first overall to the New Jersey Devils and Clementine, to no one’s surprise, starts crying. 

“Let’s go, baby!” He practically screams into her ear as he hugs her.

She laughs through her tears. “Congrats, Jacky. Love you.”

“Love you more, Clee.”

Jack walks down and makes his way onto the stage and Clementine is having the most intense case of deja vu in her life. Maeve hands her a tissue and she knows that some camera is capturing her wiping her eyes carefully. Hopefully the camera captures her whacking Quinn as he makes fun of her as well. She puts her hands over her heart watching Jack shake Gary Bettman’s hand. She can feel her dad’s love and happiness as if he’s here. 

And maybe he is, even if not physically. He’s here somewhere.  

(Hearing “Coming Home” by Diddy - Dirty Money and Skylar Grey playing as Jack walked down had Clementine wanting to slam her head through a wall. She knows Jack probably didn’t put too much thought into the song, but as she hears Skylar’s voice crooning on about letting the rain wash the pain away and coming home and forgiving mistakes, what else is she supposed to feel?)

She watches one by one as Jack’s friends get drafted with a big smile while enjoying the quiet commentary that Jim is offering. She’s still trying to wrap her head around the fact that Jack will probably be playing in the NHL this year and she still clearly remembers him hiding her shoes when they were younger. 

Clementine laughs as Jack launches himself at her when she sees him later, laughs even more when he and his buddies are being stupid and so boy-like that it makes her heart ache. At some point, someone has control of the aux and “The Spins” by Mac Miller starts playing and Clementine feels fond. Quinn appears beside her and she leans into him. 

“Is this how you feel all the time when you see us?” He asks. 

She breathes out. “Yup.” 

“I don’t know how you do it.”

“Me neither, Q.” 

He chuckles. “The curse of being an older sibling.”

“You have no fucking idea.” 

“The first thought I had when his name was called was that Miguel would’ve screamed.” 

She snorts. “Probably true. I gave Jack his letter this morning.”

“I know. I accidentally walked in just as he was finishing reading it.” He pauses suddenly. “Will you come watch when I come to play the Sharks?” 

She looks over at the vulnerable look in his eyes. “Of course.” She realizes then where Quinn’s fears are going. Michigan is only an hour and a half away from Jersey by plane, while Vancouver is four hours away by plane. She’s gonna be the closest to him out of the seven of them. “Of course I will, Quinn. Always.”

“Thanks,” Quinn replies, voice a bit rough. She just presses a kiss to his cheek.

…..

The next morning, Clementine’s woken up by a knock on the door. She groans, but the knocks keep happening so she kicks herself off the bed, throws on a UCLA sweatshirt over herself and opens the door. Jack’s standing at the doorway, hair all over the place and t-shirt and shorts wrinkly. 

“What the fuck, Jack?” She asks bluntly. 

“Sorry.” At least he looks apologetic. “Shit, sorry. I’m just a bit restless.”

“Get in. Quietly. We can talk on the balcony.” Jack gives her a thankful smile as he follows her into the room. They tiptoe past so that Maeve doesn’t wake up, Clementine grabbing her phone along the way. 

She groans as he closes the balcony door and she sinks down into one of the seats. “Jack, it’s 8 in the goddamn morning. Did you not see Ellen and I knocking back shots yesterday?”

Jack snorts. “Who didn’t? I’m pretty sure at least 10 people were filming.”

“What can I say? Your family and friends think I’m entertaining.” She yawns. “What’s up, superstar? What’s got your mind racing at this ungodly hour?”

He shrugs and Clementine wants to roll her eyes. But her semi-awake brain reminds her that this is how all three of them, but especially Jack, has always been. When there’s something bothering him, she always gives him time and lets him come to her. 

A few minutes of silence, before:

“I’m not in over my head, right?”

“About?”

“Everything.”

Clementine blinks. Frankly, she’s too tired and hungover to be a big sister right now. But she’ll try her best. “Jack Rowden Hughes. Don’t tell me you were just drafted number one in the National Hockey League, which is something that had been predicted for at least two years now, and are telling me you’re in over your head.”

He flinches. “Don’t full name me. It’s too early for that.”

She kicks him in the ribs. “You’re a good player, Jack. Which is honestly probably an understatement. I’ve seen you play since you were literally a child. It’s almost freaky how good you are.”

“But you have to say that.”

“I don’t have to say anything,” Clementine says. “I don’t have the time and energy to be bullshitting people anymore, especially you.”

Jack looks down at his hands. “I guess the expectations have always been there, especially recently. But it’s so much more now and that’s kinda scary, Clee.”

“Everything new is always gonna be scary,” Clementine says softly, the breeze waving with her words. “Always. I don’t care how ready for it you’ve been. I’ve been wanting to be a doctor since I was 16. You think I’m not scared to go to Stanford in the fall?”

He furrows his eyebrows. “B-but you’re so smart. You’re gonna be fine.”

“And you’re so talented. So you’re gonna be fine.” She says pointedly. “Realistically, no one can predict the future. Of course I hope that you and Quinn have a great rookie year and a long, successful career ahead of you. Same with Lukey when it’s his turn. But inevitably, there’s gonna be hard moments. That’s just life. You and I both know that. Hell, we’ve been through that together. Will people talk shit about your hard moments more than mine? Yeah, unfortunately, which I hate and wish I could change. But those people, you need to remember, don’t know you. The people who do know you and who love you whether you have skates on your feet or not? Those are the people you should be listening to. And we all love you and are so, so proud of you, Jacky.”

He scooches his chair over and leans his head on her shoulder. “How do you always know what to say?”

“I think I’ve known you all long enough just to know what to say so that you’ll listen to me.” She plays with his hair, staring out into the harbor the hotel borders. “You got all the time in the world to be who you want to be, Jack. And maybe sometimes that requires being in your head a bit. But you’ll come out okay in the end. You always have.”

She swears she feels a few of his tears drip onto her shirt. “I love you, Clee. I know I say it a lot but I mean it everytime.”

“I know you do.”

“I cried when you got your diploma last week.”

“I know. Luke told me.”

“Traitor,” he says with no heat. He throws his legs over her lap and tucks himself into her. “I-I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she parrots back.

He looks up at her from where he’s tucked his head under her chin and Clementine smiles sadly. He looks so young when he does that. He pouts. “You look sad.”

“I’m not sad.” 

He gives her a look. “Clementine Ana Sandoval.”

“Hey. You can’t do that,” she protests weakly. He waits. “I’m not sad, really. It’s just been an emotional week. In a happy way.”

“You can still be emotional in a happy way and be sad.”

She smiles. “I guess you’re right.” She kisses the top of his head. “I am so proud of you, Jack. Truly. I love you so much.”

“I love you the most, Clee. I’m serious.”

She looks at him with a smile, because she knows there’s just no way. He smiles back brightly in the morning light. 

His lips quiver and she frowns. “We’re gonna be so far apart now.” He whispers.

“We haven’t lived close to each other in awhile.”

“But it’s gonna be even farther.”

“Like I told Quinn, whenever you come play at San Jose, I’ll be there. I promise.”

“And what if I need you other times?”

“When have you called me and I haven’t picked up? Or haven’t called back within the hour?” Silence from him, because he knows she has a point. “Doesn’t matter how far apart we are. I’ll always be there for you.”

He nods, once to indicate that he heard, twice to inject those words into his veins. He kisses her cheek and she bites her lip. She’ll always love him. 

(They end up dozing off. Maeve wakes up and is very confused when she looks to see her daughter’s empty bed. Her gaze shifts to the balcony beyond the glass door and she smiles, watching Clementine and Jack’s chests fall and rise in sync. 

Maeve snaps a picture and sends it to Ellen, before getting out of bed to shower. She’ll give them some more time to rest.)

2021 - canton, michigan

laugh until we think we’ll die

barefoot on a summer night

never could be sweeter than with you

- “home” by edward sharpe & the magnetic zeros

The second her mom pulls into the Hughes’s driveway after 13 hours of being in the car, Clementine immediately runs to Ellen, who’s standing by the doorway waiting to greet them.

She breathes in Ellen’s familiar citrus perfume and melts into her arms. A year and a half into the pandemic has felt like 30 years, and Clementine just feels lucky that she can be here. She steps aside to let Maeve and Ellen embrace, getting the luggage from the car. 

“Where are Jimmy and the boys?” Maeve asks as they all gather in the kitchen and Ellen starts reheating some lasagna.

“Playing golf. They’ll be back soon.”

All three of them are collectively a bottle of white wine in deep when they hear a call pull into the driveway. Clementine can hear the moment the boys see the Massachusetts license plate because she hears Luke scream “Maeve and Clemmy are here!” and three car doors slamming before they barrel into the house. 

Clementine just waves her fingers and giggles. Quinn reaches her first, hugging her and lifting her off the stool as she laughs into his neck. Luke’s next — has he grown even more? — and she places three consecutive kisses on his cheek. Jack’s smile is as bright as ever and she threads one hand in his hair as he spins her around. 

Then finally, Jim, who’s been patiently waiting his turn. When she hugs him, she turns her cheek so that it’s against his chest. He places a fatherly kiss in her hair and she feels like a little girl again. 

In her wine drunk stage, she happily listens to the boys babble on about whatever, Maeve chiming in from time to time with stories about what it’s like trying to teach ten year olds over Zoom. At one point, Jack spits out a mouthful of beer and Quinn’s grimacing while Clementine grabs a paper towel without missing a beat in her retelling of how she should’ve gotten an A on a final paper she submitted last semester. 

(Jack had rolled his eyes, muttering “fucking overachiever” under his breath which Clementine glared at him for. Mr. Number One Pick shouldn’t be talking) 

It sucks that Luke won’t be able to get the same draft experience his brothers did, but in a way, it’s a wonderful compromise. He gets to be at home surrounded by his family and friends. Sure, media is still somehow finding their way in because it’s the draft and because he’s a Hughes but it won’t be nearly as much as it has been before. 

Clementine finds a bit of comfort in knowing that Luke won’t immediately jump into the NHL like Jack did. Not that she doesn’t want him to. She wants them to get everything they want in life. But Luke is her baby. He’s perpetually eight years old in her mind. 

And this isn’t the time to dwell on this, but Jack’s rookie year was so tough on him. She’ll never forget getting a call at 2 am his time, absolutely hyperventilating over the phone. After that, she demanded he call her once every week for at least two months after. Luckily, Quinn had a great rookie year and Jack’s second year was better, but goodness, she needs a bit more time to prepare before she starts getting middle of the night calls from three Hughes brothers involving a world she’s still learning about day by day. 

The next week is relaxing and lovely, Clementine having nothing to do for the first time in awhile having taken two weeks off from her summer job at Boston Children’s for this. She lets herself sleep in, takes naps in the backyard and on the boat, moves around slowly in the kitchen to help prepare dinner and cherishes the sounds of Quinn, Jack and Luke’s laughter echoing through the house. 

…..

The night before the draft, Clementine feels a bit restless. She tosses aside her blanket and tiptoes downstairs in a Michigan sweatshirt that she’s stolen at some point this week. Wiping her eyes, she quietly opens cabinets and pokes through the pantry, concluding that the Hughes household has all the ingredients she needs to make brown sugar cookies. Luckily, sound doesn’t travel much in this house, she’s learned. Clementine starts to get to work. 

By the time she’s waiting for the oven to finish preheating so she can put cookies into the oven, she hears footsteps coming down the stairs. She’s about to open her mouth to apologize but snaps it shut when she sees Quinn, all cozied up in a black t-shirt and gray sweats, hair absolutely all over the place. 

He blinks. “Why are you awake?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Quinn scans over the three trays of cookies waiting to go in. “Didn’t both our moms bake a gigantic cake today?”

“Yup.”

He hums. The oven beeps and before she can react, he slides the trays in. As he shuts the oven door, Clementine pours him a glass of water as she sets a timer on her phone.

“Why are you awake at this hour, Quinny?”

Quinn shrugs. “I was up to use the bathroom. Thought I heard something downstairs and wanted to check it out.”

She yawns. “Yeah, sorry.”

“I didn’t know you baked.”

“Newer habit. One of my roommates, Allie, you’ve met Allie over FaceTime, she’s a stress baker. Whenever exam season hit, there were baked goods all over our apartment. Picked up on a thing or two.”

Quinn hums. “What’s Allie up to this summer?”

“She just started her residency in Florida.”

“So she graduated?”

“Yup. Now I’m all alone.” Quinn rolls his eyes because he knows that’s not true. It isn’t. Clementine still has two other roommates as they continue looking for a third. 

“I still can’t believe you had time to do med school applications as well as a full course load,” Quinn says. “Like, I know you said that’s kinda normal. But how did you have the time?”

Clementine snickers. “I’m not sure how I did. Pure rage and fumes? ”

“I mean, you’re superwoman. You always have been. But damn. There are really no breaks for you, eh?”

“Coming here is a break.”

“Good,” she ruffles his hair. Quinn sighs. “Can’t believe it’s finally little Lukey’s turn.”

“Yeah. I’ve been having a crisis about it all summer. Makes me feel old.”

“You’re only 24?”

“Exactly,” she deadpans. “Old.”

Quinn rolls his eyes. They both look up as someone else comes down the stairs. Alex, who came in just a few hours ago, rubs his eyes with his fists. “What the fuck are you two doing up awake?”

“Clem’s making cookies.”

Alex blinks. “And you are?”

“Keeping her company.”

Alex just shrugs before sitting down across from her. He nods in thanks when Clementine fills up a glass of water for him. “Haven’t really gotten the chance to catch up with you. How’s Stanford?”

Clementine snickers. “Good. Well, as good as it can be in a pandemic. School’s school. First two years were mostly by the textbooks. Next two will be textbooks and clinicals so I’ll be in the hospital. Hopefully.”

“Clinicals?”

“Like, actually working with patients. Or like, observing in the hospital with a supervisor. The good stuff.”

“Sounds smart,” Alex hums. “How do you feel that all your babies will have been drafted 24 hours from now?” 

Fucking asshole. She doesn’t know why Ellen has a soft spot towards Alex when he’s clearly a nuisance. He just laughs at her pout and Quinn shakes his head with a close-lipped smile. “Don’t get her started. It’s 1 a.m.”

Her eyes roll so hard they might as well fall out of her head. “Don’t you have siblings?” He nods. “Are they younger or older?”

“Older. I’m the youngest.”

She huffs and Quinn grins. “That makes sense,” she says. “You don’t get it.”

Alex gets up and pulls Clementine into a quick side hug as he gets more water. “I only got to hear about how you were crying when Quinn and Jack got called. Now I’ll get to see for myself.”

“Careful,” she says wearily. Careful of what, she doesn’t know, but she needs to instill some sort of dominance as the oldest here. Quinn snickers into his sweatshirt. 

Her timer beeps a few minutes later and she shuts it off. Quinn ushers her aside while he grabs the trays and sets them on the counter to cool while Clementine digs around for a large tupperware container to store them. Alex just stares at them hungrily and she can’t even be annoyed. She sees that look in all the Hughes brothers’ eyes all the time in the kitchen. And Alex might as well be a Hughes. 

Once they each finish a cookie, Clementine shoos them both upstairs as she follows behind them to try and go back to sleep. Tomorrow’s a big day.

…..

The next morning comes quickly. She’s sharing a room and bed with her mother but she’s nowhere to be found. Instead, Clementine gets woken up by Jack jumping on her bed. Thankfully, he avoids anything that could really hurt her, but she still grunts, whacking him in the stomach and shooing him out of the room before beginning to get ready. She can already hear various family and friends coming through the front door downstairs.

She gets dressed in a cream romper she found on sale a month ago and pulls out, of course, the white sandals. She rummages through her backpack to find the letter — the final one she’s in charge of — and quickly debates on when she’ll give it to Luke. 

Now, she decides, putting it on the bedside table. Before the cameras turn on. She slips her phone into the pockets of her romper — she’s pumped they even have pockets — and walks down the stairs. Immediately at the front door, she’s met with Emily. She’s nine now and Clementine just goes on her knees and holds her tightly. Clementine then quickly runs into Ellen, who wants to introduce her to some people — some she’s met a handful of times, some she hasn’t met once.

It’s lovely, in a way, knowing that while their lives are so intertwined, there’s always someone new to meet or someone to reunite with. The support system for all of them is so much larger than she could’ve ever dreamed of, as she grins when Sophia, who she last saw at Quinn’s draft, hugs her tight like they just saw each other yesterday. She’s in her second year at Michigan on the lacrosse team and so smiley and lovely.

Once she spots Luke, she taps his shoulder and he excuses himself from talking to one of Jim’s old friends. Luke’s constant smile this whole week has been small but genuine. As his eyes drift down to the envelope in her hands, she sees him swallow. 

Clementine hands it over and claps a hand on his shoulder. “Later, yeah? When you have a minute.”

Luke just nods expectantly. Like almost everything in life, his brothers have gotten their letters before him. If Clementine sometimes thinks too much about it, it makes her almost sad that Luke’s always had someone do something before him, whether it’s her or Quinn and Jack. But it’s also a blessing, in a way, she thinks, because in her eyes, Luke is the best out of all of them in pretty much every single way possible because he’s seen how the older three have messed up and can take from that. She knows Quinn and Jack agree. 

“Thanks for being here.”

“Of course.” She pulls him into a hug and breathes in. “Is that the cologne I gave you yesterday?”

“Yeah.”

“Cute.” Clementine gives him one last squeeze before pulling away. The house is filling up more and more and she knows her time is limited. “If I don’t catch you before, just remember that I love you, okay? And I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Clemmy.”

“I’ll look at the schedule soon and try to come down to see a game when I can.”

His eyes light up. “Really?”

“Duh. I gotta put all this Michigan merch I have to some use.” 

Luke shrugs. “I don’t know-I just figured, you saw Quinn at Michigan and you’ve seen Quinn and Jack in the show. Why would you come to see something you’ve already seen, you know?”

“Because it’s you, Lukey.” She squeezes his arm. “You’re always going to be my baby brother.”

She feels him relax as he folds himself into her arms again. 

The day passes by in a blur as Clementine is enjoying catching up with everyone. And there’s a feeling of gratitude in that everyone can gather with each other again after so much isolation in different parts of the continent for so long. She sees Josh for the first time in literal years and happily spends time catching up with him. 

For most of the day, she forgets that it’s draft day. She’s just bouncing around, sipping casually on her cider and snacking. The cookies she made the night before are gone very quickly, which makes her laugh to herself. 

Once Luke disappears upstairs to get dressed, she finds herself leaning against a doorway, staring out into the living room that’s filled with people but not really looking at anything. 

“You okay?”

She turns to see her mom, pearl earrings matching her deep red blouse. Clementine grins. “Yeah. Just zoned out for a minute.”

Maeve lets out a heavy breath. “Last one.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s weird. I always knew he’d get here. All of them. But then it happens. And you think you’re prepared, but you’re not.” Clementine perks up. Her mom doesn’t often get into these types of moods, always the fun-loving, energetic woman. Her dad was more the outwardly perceptive one. Maeve just continues with a small smile. “From the most adorable little boys to incredible young men.”

Clementine laughs. “They’ll always be little to me.”

“Take how you feel and multiply that by three hundred and that’s where I’m at as I’ve seen all of you together this week,” Maeve says with a snort. She hooks her chin on Clementine’s shoulder. “Love you, Clementine.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

Soon enough, everyone’s gathered in front of the TV, with a few cameras around and someone on standby who’s gonna do an interview right when Luke’s name gets called. On the couch and chairs at the front, from right to left, are Geegs, Ellen, Quinn, Luke, Jack and Jim. Her and Maeve are standing right behind Jim and Alex and Josh are next to Clementine. 

This time, it could be Anaheim or Columbus or Detroit. Maybe San Jose. 

Or it could be New Jersey. 

She knows Jack has been pretty outwardly casual about it — he knows nothing, he’s just hoping. But she knows Jack. He wants his younger brother with him. And it would be lovely for those two to play on the same team. What are the odds? 

(Apparently, pretty good.)

Luke gets drafted to New Jersey fourth overall. The whole house explodes with cheers. She’s never seen Jack so excited. Maeve puts her hands on Jim’s shoulders as Luke is hugging Quinn and Jim turns around, eyes wet. That’s what sets Clementine off crying. When it’s her turn to get a hug from Luke, she rises to her tiptoes and throws her arms around his neck. 

“Congrats, Lukey. Proud of you.”

“Thanks, Clemmy. I love you.”

She smacks a kiss on his cheek. “I love you too.” Luke then hugs Maeve, Alex and Josh before continuing down the line. 

From there, there’s media to be down and they quickly set up. Most of the family stays in the room as the three boys adjust themselves on the couch, ready to answer some questions. After Geegs gives her a big hug and Luke throws on Jack’s Devils jersey, Clementine bites her lip and suddenly spins on her heel, feeling overwhelmed. 

Alex notices, furrowing his eyebrows as he lightly grabs her arm. “You okay?”

Clementine nods with a smile. “Yeah. I’m just gonna get some air.”

Alex just nods. “Okay,” he squeezes her shoulder in a side hug. “Don’t be too long or we’ll all come looking for you.”

“I won’t,” she promises, before quietly slipping out the screen door in the backyard. 

She takes a deep breath, wiping her eyes and deciding to take a little walk around the block. She stares out at the sky, currently painted in hues of pink and purple as the sun is starting to set. Michigan is beautiful. She can understand why they all love it. She fiddles with the three friendship bracelets and her vision blurs as she starts lightly crying again. 

It’s been a long time coming. All of this always has. But like her mom said, it doesn’t mean she’s ready for it. 

After a nice walk, Clementine sits down on the swing in the front yard. She can hear the commotion happening inside the house and in the backyard, but she’s not quite ready to go back in yet. She watches the sun continue setting, thankful that it’s just windy and cool enough to not have the mosquitos attacking her. 

Quinn’s in Vancouver. Jack’s in New Jersey. Both of them are looking to stay long term. Luke will be going to Michigan for at least a year. If Clementine’s inkling is right, it’ll be two, just like Quinn did. And then Luke will be in New Jersey. She’s in California for two more years. And then who knows where for residency afterwards. Ellen and Jim are mainly based in Michigan and her mom’s out in Massachusetts.

Will they ever all live close enough to each other again? Will there ever be more than just the holidays, which started already looking different ages ago when the boys started having tournaments at that time of the year? Will there ever be a time where they’re all able to be together for more than two — maybe three if they’re lucky — times a year? 

She’s accepted by now that no, they probably will never live near each other again or see each other more than they currently do. But she can hope, right? 

Because she’s made a home for herself in a few places now. Massachusetts, where Mom is. California, where she’s been for six years, She hasn’t lived in Toronto for six years now, but that will always be home too. 

But home, Clementine realizes, as she hears Quinn’s contagious laughter filter from the house, is this. Home is Quinn’s subtle loyalty and kindness that knows no bounds. Home is Jack’s contagious vivacity and love that envelopes every room. Home is Luke’s steadfast resilience and empathy that pulls everyone in. Home is Ellen’s warm hugs and Jim’s proud eyes. Home is her own mother’s…everything. 

Home is the way her father lives in all their memories, even six years after he’s gone. All the people he loved the most. That’s home. 

The front door opens. She looks up as Luke walks out and immediately smiles. He looks good in Devils red. “Hey.”

He grins. “Hi. I was looking for you.”

“Just needed some air. Are you done with media and interviews?”

“Yeah,” he slides in next to her. She watches his handle fiddle with the envelope, “Luke” written unmistakingly in Miguel’s handwriting. “I wanted to read this with you.”

Clementine shakes her head. “Nope. I was given very specific instructions. Your-”

“Eyes only,” Luke finishes. “Yeah, yeah. I know. But could you stay here while I read it to myself?”

She softens with a smile. “Of course I can.” 

She watches as his shaky hands carefully tear open the envelope, biting her lip as he unfolds the paper. She then purposely looks away as Luke leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes scanning the words. She places a hand on his back, rubbing small circles to let him know that she’s here. Once she hears the sound of him folding the paper, she turns to look at him. His lips are quivering and she corrals him into a hug. 

“I wish he was here,” Luke chokes out through tears and Clementine tilts her chin up to the sky to try to hold back her own. “I miss him so much, Clemmy.”

“Me too, Lukey,” she whispers, letting him place his head on her lap. “Me too.”

“It’s so unfair how little time we had with him,” he says and well, Clementine’s fully crying again because yeah, she was 17 when her dad died. But Luke was 11. Not even a teenager. “All I could really think of when I got picked was that Miguel’s from Jersey.”

Clementine smiles. “Yeah.”

“Kinda feels like fate, maybe?”

“Fate sounds good,” she says softly, stroking his cheek with her thumb as she smiles at him. “I really like the sound of that, actually.”

There are footsteps coming closer and Clementine turns behind her to see Quinn with Jack behind him. She gives them a bittersweet smile and nods at them to come sit. Quinn slides in next to her and Jack sits on the other side of Luke. 

“You okay, Moose?” Quinn asks softly.

“Yeah,” Luke says in a scratchy voice. “I’ll come back in in a few minutes.”

“Take your time,” Jack says, exchanging a look with Clementine as she starts playing with Luke’s hair. “No rush.”

“Did all your letters make you feel like this?” Luke asks. 

“Yup.” Jack snorts.

“Yeah.” Quinn sighs. “It still does.”

“I had to reapply my mascara before my grad party,” Clementine says lightly. All four of them chuckle. She swallows, “I love you guys. So much.”

Quinn kisses her on the cheek as Jack reaches out behind Luke to squeeze her shoulder. “We love you more, Clem.” Quinn mutters. 

They stay out on the swing for a little while, just the four of them. Only when the sun sets do they make their way to the backyard to rejoin everyone. Before he gets pulled away again, Clementine holds Luke one last time. 

bonus - 2028 - new york city, new york

ya no quiero que llores

the universe is gonna give you muchas flores

quitate ese miedo

you’ll be a lot more, trust me, yo te entiendo

- “a letter to my younger self” ambar lucid

Clementine really didn’t need everyone to be here. It’s only a lunch after all. 

But “it’s not like we have anything going on anyways,” Quinn had said, the lunch NYU is throwing to mark the end of people’s residencies taking place at the end of June during the off season. So when NYU said she could bring up to eight guests, she didn’t really have a solid argument. 

And here they are now, sitting in a small but beautifully decorated ballroom. Clementine’s wearing a dark purple jumpsuit as she looks around the table. Nico’s to her right, talking happily with Jim on his other side. Then it’s Jack, then Luke, then Quinn, then Ellen and then finally her own mother on Clementine’s left. They’re all dressed up a bit, the guys in button ups and Ellen and Maeve with nice blouses on. It makes Clementine smile.

It’s really not a formal thing. But she’s grateful to have them all here anyways.

“Okay, real talk.” Jack says across the table, grabbing Clementine’s attention. “Your attending physician who stopped by earlier? I would hit.”

Maeve snorts. Ellen sighs and just says his name in disappointment. Jim takes a sip of his beer trying to hide a smile. Quinn and Luke roll their eyes and Nico scoffs. 

“Really?” Clementine says dryly. 

Jack, like the menace he is, just smirks. “Absolutely. I mean, I know you’re engaged or whatever, but if you weren’t…”

“The person she’s engaged to is right here,” Nico says as Jack cackles. 

Clementine rolls her eyes. “Well, Dr. Butterfield is happily married with kids. Sorry to burst your bubble. Though I’m sure Amelie would also not be thrilled.”

Jack waves her off at the mention of his girlfriend. “Amelie would probably agree with me.”

“I don’t know how Amelie deals with you,” Nico shoots back. 

“Settle down,” Clementine says in a monotone voice. Even after so many years, Nico and Jack love finding anything to bicker about off the ice. “Let me eat my pasta in peace.”

“Better listen to Clem, boys,” Jim chuckles. “It’s her day.”

“It’s her month,” Luke clarifies, elbowing Jack. “Are you trying to get uninvited to her wedding?”

“Clee would never!” Jack exclaims. Which is true, but Clementine’s glad Luke is backing her up. 

“Nico would,” Nico grumbles. Good thing they’re not seated next to each other right now or she’s sure Jack would be smacking him. Which is hilarious, considering Jack is one of Nico’s groomsmen. 

Five years. Five years since she walked into Langone for the first time. Five years since she moved into Hoboken with Jack and Luke. She may not live with them anymore, but sometimes, with the amount they’re over her and Nico’s house, it feels like she still does. 

Five years of great moments and really, really tough ones. Five years of highlighters in her mouth, pencils twisted in a bun atop of her head, dark under-eye circles after overnight shifts, delirious conversations with her fellow residents and so, so much coffee. And before that, eight years of school, sometimes forgetting what it was all for. But here she is.

Doctor Clementine Sandoval has a nice ring to it. 

She’s brought out of her own world when she feels Nico squeeze her thigh lightly. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

“You zoned out again.”

She hums lightly. Nico always knows when to bring her back to the present. “Thanks.” He just kisses her temple. 

Along with eighteen other new doctors, Clementine’s called up on the stage to receive her certificate. Dr. Butterfield says a few words about her in front of everyone that she thinks are far too kind and she can’t help but laugh when she hears her whole table cheering as her picture’s being taken. 

“You have a lot of loud supporters,” Dr. Butterfield jokes as he shakes her hand. 

She snickers. “You have no idea.”

“They seem lovely. Keep them close.”

“They are. I will.”

“Enjoy your time off. You deserve it. We’ll see you back at NYU in September.”

Clementine beams. “Thanks Doc. I’m looking forward to it.”

After lunch is over, they go outside and take pictures right by Battery Park, where the lunch was held. Unlike the three brothers, she doesn't complain about the amount of pictures Ellen, Jim and Maeve want to take, just grinning and laughing as Nico pokes her side. They split up to drive back to Nico and Clementine’s in Jersey — Ellen, Jim and Maeve in one car and her, Nico, Quinn, Jack and Luke in the other. Nico is somehow roped into driving and Clementine knows he probably regrets that. You put five 25-31 year olds who see each other simultaneously too little and too much in the same car when there’s an annoying amount of traffic and it’s an interesting ride. 

“Someone must be throwing a party,” Clementine comments as they turn onto the cul de sac, cars lining up the curb. She squints at her and Nico’s driveway at two familiar cars. “What are Dougie and Bratter doing here?” Nico just gives her a shrug. The brothers in the back don’t respond either. “What are you guys not telling me?”

“Chill, Clee,” Jack says. “We have no idea what’s going on either. We’ll find out in two seconds anyways. 

She almost believes him. Instead, she falls in step with Nico, who locks the car. “What’s going on?” She mutters.

Nico just smiles, hand on her lower back naturally. “It’s all good. Just trust me.”

And the thing is, she does. She trusts Nico with her life. 

The second she walks through the door, she jumps as a chorus of “congratulations” echoes through the home. She scans the room quickly. The house is decorated with streamers and balloons, there are food and snacks all over and their home looks so filled. 

Maeve, Ellen and Jim beat them here, all looking very proud. Next to them are Quinn, Jack and Luke with big smiles, next to their significant others — Amelie snapping pictures with her camera, Jordyn leaning back into Luke’s chest, and even Grace is here, Quinn’s arm wrapped around her waist that’s starting to show her small, beautiful baby bump. Grace is supposed to be on tour singing in front of a sold-out crowd in Florida right now.

And then there’s Dougie. And Jesper and Nicole and their toddler son. And Timo and Steph. And Erik and Kristen and their kids. And Seamus. And Jonas. And Ethan. And Nate and Dawson and their significant others. And seemingly almost every other Devils player, most present, some past. And then there’s Trevor, Alex and Cole and Clementine feels like she’s 21 again.

Then there’s her family, blood related and not. Her Uncle Thomas and Aunt Mariana — Thomas is Miguel’s younger brother. Her Aunt Aoife, who was in California literally two days ago. Those are the only blood-related family members who live in the US, and they’re all here. Then there’s Lara and John and Emily, who’s somehow 16 now. Other various members of the Hughes extended family who she’s always loved are dispersed around. 

And then a smattering of her friends from UCLA, Stanford and NYU, all cheering enthusiastically. The ones who made all those years filled with light even in the darkest crevices.

The house is filled with so many people she loves. As she turns back to look at Nico, she feels overwhelmed. “What’s all this?” She chokes out.

“To celebrate you,” Nico says with a twinkle in his eye. 

“His idea, by the way.” Emilia calls out with a grin. Clementine has to laugh. Because of course it is. 

“I love you,” she whispers to Nico, pecking him on the lips. 

“I love you.” He repeats back. “Now go celebrate with everyone.”

And celebrate with everyone she does. As she does that, she can’t help but steal glances at Nico from wherever she is in the room. Because she’s been blessed with having a wonderful support system — the people currently in this house prove that — but there’s never been anyone quite like Nico who just loves her so wholly and wants to celebrate her all the time. 

Later that night, after she bids goodbye and a gracious thank you to Jesper and Nicole, who stayed to help clean up, she lets out a deep breath. It’s just her and her brothers and all the significant others now, Ellen, Jim and Maeve having retired up to bed half an hour ago. She collapses on the couch next to Nico. She stays quiet as she listens to Luke and Grace arguing about something that really reminds Clementine that Grace may be married to Quinn, but Grace met Luke first at a bar in New York years ago and has refused to stop making fun of him since then.

It was just her and the boys for so long. She’s so happy that they’ve all found their own counterparts throughout the years. 

“Thank you for today,” she mutters to Nico. “Seriously. It was…thank you.”

“Of course,” Nico says, his thumb going over the ring on her left hand. “You’re so loved, baby. Any chance to remind you of that is worth it to me.” She just leans up to kiss him. 

“Ew,” Luke says, ruining the moment. Jordyn slaps him for that one. 

Clementine scoffs, “Fuck off. We’re literally getting married next month.”

“Okay and?” Even at 25, Luke is still her annoying little brother. “I know today’s your day and all, but sucking face with my captain is not something I really want to see.”

“Then look away.”

Quinn snorts under his breath. “You guys are impossible.”

“Learn to deal with it, Quinny,” Jack smirks. “You have a child coming soon. If they’re anything like Grace, they’re gonna be fighting you all the time.” 

Grace reaches over her husband and shoves Jack. “Watch it, Hughes. Unless you want your backstage pass taken away when you come to my show in two weeks.”

Jack gasps dramatically. “But I haven’t gotten to see you perform in ages!”

“Exactly. So zip it.”

Amelie makes eye contact with Clementine and Nico with an eye roll. “They exhaust me.” And Clementine has to laugh, because they’ve all made the choice to be exhausted by each other.

Soon after, everyone’s tired out from the day’s festivities and starts heading to their respective rooms for the evening. Clementine trails behind everyone, shutting the lights off and making sure the doors are locked. 

She’s about to shut the light off in the living room when she stops, catching sight of a photo frame hung on the wall opposite the couch. They don’t have many frames hung up around the house, but the photos they do have hung up are important.

She stares at her father’s face. The picture was taken when Clementine was fifteen. The three of them were about to go to Thomas and Mariana’s wedding, Maeve in a long blue dress, Miguel in a dashing suit with a matching blue tie and Clementine in a glittery pink dress. They’re all smiling at the camera in front of a sunset. It’s one of Clementine’s favorites. 

Suddenly, her throat closes up as her father’s voice echoes through her brain. “The universe is gonna give you muchas flores,” he always said. All the flowers, he would say. She thinks he said that on the hospital bed on his last day. She’s long forgiven herself for not remembering every word from that day anymore. 

Nico comes from behind and his hands wrap around her shoulders as she grabs his wrists. She then turns her head to the picture right next to it and smiles. It’s of her and Nico almost two years ago on New Year’s Eve, four hours before Nico would get down on one knee and ask her to spend the rest of their lives together. And then lastly, to the right of that picture, a frame with three pictures in one. Her, Quinn, Jack and Luke all during their respective drafts. The same photoset is hanging in their homes as well. 

She feels Nico kiss the back of her head and she smiles, before turning and heading to bed, Nico’s arm around her shoulder.

long live the walls we crashed through

i had the time of my life with you

[gifs-of-puppets]

The 92nd Annual Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade (2018)

Source: NBC

[animenostalgia]

News - Goku has been part of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade since 2018, and this year he'll be back with a new look! He'll be sporting his Super Saiyan form for the parade's 98th year celebration on November 28th, 2024.